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#RIP to the legacy post editor. you will be missed. while queueing this post and the last one it's removed the option for me to switch to the#old one and is making me use the new one. which is like not bad. it's not a bad editor. i just don't like change as most tumblr users don't#it also just appends the post you make directly to the top of the currently-displayed posts behind it even if it's not meant to go there#which is a little bit scary when i'm on the queue page and i click “add to queue” for a post that's supposed to go up on august 18th#to see it immediately appear above mega metagross. the legacy post editor didn't do that. it made you refresh the page if you wanted to see#your own new post on the dashboard. which i think was better!! honestly!! i've never Made a post using the new editor to see how it behaves#only ever queued up FFP using this thang. but that's also bc i feel like i don't post very much. i need smth Interesting to say when i post#on my main blog i mean. i don't make extraneous posts on here (usually) unless i'm answering an ask or something. which. still have yet to#miss one to this day. going strong#bibarel#can you tell idk what to say about this guy. what are they‚ water-type? big chance i'm fucking wrong and they're just pure normal#OKAY i was right. normal/water. semi-interesting typing and i get why they're a water-type. but. i never use. bibarel. even as a kid who#didn't understand or care about competitive. i knew bibarel was not very strong. it's a route 1 normal-type fucker. and maybe it's like#better than i think or something but tbqh it's a sinnoh 'mon and i already have another sinnoh water-type that has my heart. buizel#so bibarel was not so much in the cards for me. bro i should do like. a mono-type run of a pokémon game one day. that would be fu#do folks do that? is that a challenge run that actually exists? nuzlockes exist so i don't see why not. okay i'm doing it. my next replay o#any pokémon game is hereby decreed to be a water-type mono-type run. i may or may not liveblog it on my main blog#and it may or may not be nuzlocke. we shall see#hell maybe i'll stream it. maybe that could be fun. i don't know of *anyone* who would be interested in that but it tends to help me#actually go about completing games when i have someone there like. waiting for me to do so
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could you write fem!BAU!reader x spencer, where reader finds out she’s pregnant while they’re on a case, like maybe she takes a test when she’s at the hotel and spencer hasn’t come back yet
(lack of) convenience | S.R.
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader category: fluff content warnings: pregnancy, nausea, vomiting, spencer reid is unfortunately perfect. vertigo. fun pregnancy symptoms. word count: 2.04k a/n: and so, the spencer reid dilf agenda continues. this is my legacy.
It came over you just after Spencer and Rossi had left to investigate a lead. This case was going nowhere fast, and the morale in the FBI field office clearly displayed it. “Are you alright?” JJ asked from right next to you, blonde hair curtaining around her face.
You nodded tightly, enough to show the newly minted profiler that you were, in fact, not alright. Nonetheless, you were motivated to push through. People were being murdered, you could brave a little vertigo to bring their killer to justice, right?
“Hey, you look a little pale,” Emily said, walking into the conference room with Hotch trailing close behind her. “Are you feeling okay?”
Rolling your eyes dramatically, you huffed at both of your coworkers. “I’m fine,” you insisted while your head was spinning. You lowered yourself down into an office chair, hoping that being sedentary would prevent your dinner from coming up.
Emily looked over at Hotch before saying, “Maybe you should head back to the hotel, it’s been a long day for all of us.”
Furrowing your brow, you frowned at your colleague. “I’ll make it through, we have work to do,” you insisted, flipping open a file as your stomach churned.
“You’re no help to anyone if you’re sick,” Hotch told you authoritatively, and you knew from his tone that he was going to send you back to the hotel. “Get some rest, we’ll start taking breaks in shifts,” he instructed, turning back to the evidence board.
It didn’t feel like shifts, especially considering you were the only one being cast off. You mumbled an acknowledgment while you stuffed your things in your bag. JJ offered to drive you, so the two of you exited the field office.
The two of you spent most of the ride in silence, just the fuzz of the SUV’s radio as background noise while you tried not to hurl in the government vehicle.
Once you were in the hotel parking lot, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get your bearings before heading inside. “You know, I used to get sick in the evening when I was pregnant with Henry,” she said offhandedly.
It felt like a pointed comment, even if she didn’t mean it like that. You started fishing in your pocket for your room card, “But I’m not pregnant.”
“Are things good with you and Spencer?” She asked, looking for details on your relationship like an older sister. JJ killed the engine before turning to face you.
Sighing, you looked at her, “Things are great with Spencer.” You wanted to scold her for prying, but you knew it was an occupational hazard. It had been seven months, and all you had been telling anyone was “great” or “nice.”
The both of you knew that the more details you gave them, the more they’d want to pry. Penelope especially. “You know he wants kids, right?” She pushed.
You frowned at her, “Jennifer.” She put her hands up in surrender as you hauled yourself out of the SUV, “I just want to go to sleep, I feel awful.” That much was true, as you stood up outside the car, your stomach started to roil again.
“I’ll check in on you later,” she said, recognizing that she had begun to pry. “Let me know if you need anything,” she urged you, the mom in her coming into play.
Nodding, you shut the door before poking your head in the open window, “Thanks, JJ.” You said, turning around and walking to your hotel room.
Luckily, the team was already checked in, so you didn’t need to waste time trying to explain the whole ‘I’m an FBI agent’ thing to the front desk. Once you got into your room, you immediately dropped to your knees in front of the toilet, eyes burning as you upchucked into the toilet.
While you were digging through your go-bag for your toothbrush, you found yourself thinking about what JJ had said to you in the car. You couldn’t be pregnant. Well, you supposed you very well could be pregnant.
Sighing, you returned to the bathroom and started brushing your teeth, having needed to take the toothpaste out of Spencer’s bag. You made a mental note to buy more for your bag – you had been using his for the last four cases.
You silently cursed JJ for planting the thought of a baby in your head as you stared out the hotel window to a convenience store on the corner. At the very least, you could get some saltines and a Gatorade. At the very most, you could get a test.
Begrudgingly, you changed into more comfortable clothes and walked across the street to the convenience store. Grabbing a sleeve of crackers and a drink before stopping in the family planning section.
Why were there so many options?
Not wanting to draw any attention to yourself, you grabbed a digital test off of the shelf and tossed it into your basket. Your shoes squeaked on the linoleum floors as you elected to use the self-checkout, not needing to provide anyone with a front seat to your misery.
Other than the nausea, your trip back to the hotel was uneventful, and thankfully it didn’t look like anyone else on the team had made the trip to your lodging.
After you took the test, you set a timer on your phone, tossing it onto the bed before you sat on the edge of the mattress, sitting on your freshly washed hands. The timer scared you when it went off, not expecting the two minutes to go by so quickly before you returned to the bathroom.
Flipping the test over, the wind was knocked out of you as you read the results.
Yes +
You didn’t know how long you had stared at the test, but the sound of the lock on your door engaging pulled you out of your stupor. Thankfully, you had done the latch on the door, so you had a few extra minutes to toss the test in your go-bag before you went up to the door and let Spencer in.
“Hey, love,” he greeted you, dropping a kiss on your forehead. “How are you feeling?” He asked caringly, someone must’ve told him you weren’t well. You hoped that was all they had told him.
Humming, you leaned into his touch for a moment before he herded you to the bed. “A bit better, but not much,” you were slightly less nauseous now, possibly because there was nothing left in your stomach. There was a dull ache in your chest though, likely a result of the information you were now aware of.
He hooked a finger under your chin and studied your features for a moment, “Were you crying?” He whispered with concern-filled eyes.
You shook your head, “I threw up.” You informed him, the lack of oxygen had caused your eyes to water – similar to a yawn. Meanwhile, your head was spinning as the words balanced precariously on your tongue, I’m pregnant.
Spencer pouted sympathetically, smoothing your hair away from your face before he felt your forehead, checking for a fever. “I’m going to take a shower,” he announced softly, “do you need anything?”
Pathetically, you gestured over to your Gatorade and saltines, silently letting him know that you were all good for the night. It was only about eight in the evening, but you were exhausted. Letting your head flop onto the pillows, you sighed before shutting your eyes.
“Hey, Y/N,” Spencer spoke up in an unfamiliar tone. “What is this?”
Crinkling your nose in frustration, you propped yourself up on your elbows, looking over at Spencer as he held up your test. Your positive pregnancy test. “Would you believe me if I told you it wasn’t mine?” Clearly, in your panic to hide the test, you had tossed the blue stick in Spencer’s bag. Your subconscious must’ve recalled that you had gotten the toothpaste out of that bag, so you thought it was yours.
Any confusion fell from his face, and in that instant, he knew exactly what was going on. “You’re pregnant?”
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, you couldn’t tell how he was feeling. “I-“ you swallowed thickly, the roiling in your stomach picking back up again. “Yes,” you answered in a small voice.
“When were you going to tell me?” He asked, there was no accusation in his voice, just pure curiosity and wonder. When you stayed silent, his eyes narrowed, “You were going to tell me, weren’t you?” He said, his volume raising from a whisper to a normal speaking level.
Pulling yourself up into a sitting position, you protectively crossed your arms in front of your stomach. “Oh my god, yes, I was going to tell you,” you clarified quickly. He didn’t seriously think you were going to hide this from him, did he?
He shook his head in confusion, “Then why hide it, angel?”
Shrugging, you thumbed the soft fabric of your sweatshirt, “I wanted time to think about it.” The admission hung in the thick tension of the hotel room.
“Okay,” he said slowly, walking over and sitting across from you on the mattress. It was clear to you that he was dealing with this situation delicately. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you about this, but I excel in thinking,” he told you.
His implications were clear to you, he wanted you to talk it out with him. “I want kids, you know I want kids. I know you want kids,” you blurted. It was something you had talked about early on in your relationship. Spencer had been very upfront with you about wanting children, he told you he needed to be with someone who also wanted that.
Spencer tilted his head to the side, “but?” He said gently, taking both of your hands in his, holding on to you.
“It’s too soon,” you whispered, feeling vulnerable on the bed with him.
He smiled at you softly, “Have I ever told you about the first time I knew that I was in love with you?”
The question left you understandably confused, “What?” You breathed, silently pleading for clarification.
Spencer nodded, “We were on a case in North Dakota, and there was this little girl who had just lost both of her parents.” The case did sound familiar, the more brutal ones involving children tended to stick with you. “We were waiting for a social worker to come stay with her, but they were stuck in a snowbank across town. Instead of working on the case, you sat down with her and taught her how to play cat’s cradle.” His voice was soft, almost placating you.
You hadn’t even realized you were crying until tears fell onto your intertwined hands, “Spence, that was years ago.”
“Two years, nine months, and thirteen days ago. I fell in love with you while watching you put a smile on her face despite the fact that it was the worst day of her life,” he said, skimming the pads of his thumbs over the backs of your hands. “I fell in love with your ability to make people feel good when the world is against them,” he murmured.
Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at him through bleary eyes, “What if we can’t protect them?”
Gathering you in his arms, Spencer let you tuck your face in the crook of his neck, “I’ll do whatever you want, Y/N. We can leave, I could be a professor and you could be a stay-at-home mom. If you want, I could stay with the BAU and you could stay home, or you can stay with the team, and I’ll stay home. Whatever you want, Y/N.”
Silently, you absorbed his words as you caught your breath, “I’m scared” you whispered.
“I know,” he murmured, “that’s okay. It’s okay to be scared.” He tightened his arms around you and rocked back and forth.
Allowing yourself to lean into him, you breathed him in, “You’re going to be such a good dad.”
He dropped a soft kiss on the crown of your head, “You’re already such a good mom.”
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#written by margot#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid angst#criminal minds angst#spencer reid hurt/comfort#criminal minds hurt/comfort#margot's requests#spencer reid dilf agenda#anon
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what kind of muse are you? ✮˚.⋆
one → two → three
REVIEWS ☆ MASTERLIST ☆ FREE READING EVENTS
how to read this pick a pile reading? ♡ the images above are your pick a pile options - see which pile immediately pulls you in. If nothing stands out right away, take a moment to look at each pile/image. the one your attentions keeps coming back to is likely your pick. if more than one pile calls to you, trust that too. you can read both and take what resonates. and hey, if none of them feel like a match, no big deal. not every reading is meant for right now. come back another time — this reading isn’t going anywhere.
pile one
note : the they/them in this reading is the person considering you as their muse. slightly n f s w so take care plz
you’re not just the muse that lives in a painting.
you’re the muse that lives in a family photo, in bedtime stories, in the way they looks at their child and sees you.
so yeah, you are going to be more than a muse that exists to fulfill fantasies or inspire fleeting art. people will actually want to build a prosperous home, a life with you when you connect with them.
i'm imagining a scene where the elevator is opening and you being an absolute girl boss (btw u don't have to be a girl to be a girlboss) steps out, do you get what i mean?
you have the the energy of someone who stands still and the room tilts in their direction.
literal infinite aura.
also, you'll be destabilizing people's focus. this is the main point of this reading & you don't literally get the intensity of how intensely you are going to do that. out of the six cards I pulled, THREE of them were reversed knights, which is HUGE. like people on intense personal journeys - self discipline, no-nonsense, no-relationships, high-focus mindsets are going to be shaken by you. they'll sort of break their focus for you. they are going to re-orient their inner trajectory just to be aligned with you. you know, you're the kind of life partner that they had been working hard for, making themselves worthy of deserving. you're the person they've been working hard to achieve. your not just a muse, you are their dream.
i'm getting this story of how this guy was sailing the world on the sea all alone and suddenly he met an African girl. after meeting her, he gave up roaming the world everywhere for one place, and that place was her.
as a muse, you inspire them to build something that breathes, to make art in motion (make love) with you.
your co-creation creates the mess and magic of legacy.
pile two
ugh slight n f s w themes, uncomfortable themes. please do not read if you are the kind of person that can't do with dark romance and stuff.
also note : the they/them in this reading is the person considering you as their muse.
I am getting line's from this book I read;
.... yet his straightforward, uncompromising good looks were almost magical when repeated, with only slight variations, in her. She was a living reverie for me: the mere sight of her sparked an almost infinite range of fantasy, from Greek to Gothic, from vulgar to divine.
that's is going to be you, but here's the catch, you are going to be nothing more than that.
you are just going to be a living painting babe.
treasured peacocks in a garden.
you're the muse who is going to be elevated to near-divine status by others, admired like a gemstone.
a living jewel on display, admired but ultimately trapped, not free to just be themselves.
the person who considers you their muse will want you serve their need to possess and keep you frozen in a beautiful moment or image.
have you guys read 'the butterfly garden'? you know, there's this man who's sort of like unhealthily obsessed with these beautiful girls. he traps them in a garden. you're are those butterflies. it's a very dark macabre book.
or you know, a better example would be that story of the photographer named masahisa fukase, who only saw his wife through the lens of a camera, and not a person. ykwim? (she left him after a decade of marriage)
im sorry, this pile might be a little dissapointing for some of you to hear. some of you want such things for yourselves, but babe this is nothing to romanticise.
so yeah again, the person who considers you their muse will just want you to themselves in a very unhealthy way.
i'm getting that, you know, you won't be sort of allowed by them gather the wood sticks and make the fire to move forward. That's the analogy for how he's not gonna allow you to pick yourself up, and purposefully make you stay fragile, losing autonomy and your self-agency.
gah my cards literally sighed in relief after i moved on from you guys in pile 2 to pile 3.
pile three
MONA LISAAA.
you, your pain, your imperfections, your body, your soul, your way of thinking, everything about you is sort of an inspiration for art. when people are going to be in a slump, you guys are going to inspire them to create art, make art.
your very essence - pain, beauty, struggle, even silence - becomes the catalyst for others to create. there's so much love here, not necessarily in the traditional sense, but love that witnesses you, and transforms you into art.
oh btw, there is going to be such a healthy relationship between the artist and the muse. what a nice change of pace of things after the bullshit pile 2 & pile 1 were pulling. people will be very respectful of your boundaries. they won't try to woo you and make you their life partner, like pile 1. they aren't going to be unhealthily obsessed with you, like in pile 2.
also there's such a beautiful energy of co-creating and dependence here. it's so beautiful.. yeah. you're gonna intimately create art together.
you are gonna be the one that leaks into the trenches of the artist's mind, inspires them to pick up the brush again, and heal through creation, make them pour their energy into something that transcends the both of you.
i just had a realization, like i was just thinking about how I want to keep channeling pile 3 forever, and it suddenly hit me… that i am getting entangled in your ensnare too. ykwim?
pile 3, you echo so loudly, people have to reflect that back through creation.
that's it for this reading. take care of yourself.
with love, Ananya ♡
#cextile#daily tarot#tarot cards#tarot deck#tarotcommunity#spirituality#tarot reading#tarot witch#pick a card#pick a pile#18+ mdni#pac tarot#tarot#tarotblr#pick a picture#intuitive reading#pac reading#pick a photo#tarot reader#tarot card reading#future spouse pick a card#free tarot readings#free tarot#paid astrology#intuitive tarot reader#pac#pick a deck#tarot pick a card#pick a card reading#tarot tumblr
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DAA 2025: Legacies Product Previews!
It's almost time! Our 2025 shop opens in just five short days on October 1st. Check out the product previews below for a sneak peek at the amazing creations on offer!
All proceeds from 2025 sales will be donated to War Child UK.
👉 Follow us on itch.io to be the first to know when our shop opens 👉 Subscribe to our newsletter for spoiler-free DAA news! 👉 Give back to the Dragon Age community by donating toward a Community Copy! More information coming soon.
Dragon Age Annual 2025: Legacies
A Dragon Age Annual classic! We're excited to say that this year the calendar comes with a pre-punched hole so that you can easily hang and display the beautiful creative works inside. Our calendar celebrates your favourite characters, stories, and all there is to love about Thedas. With designs that span the entire Dragon Age franchise, there's sure to be something you'll want to see!
Keep reading to see previews for Sagas: A DAA 2025 Zine and our merchandise pack, including art prints, mini tarot cards, stickers & sticker sheets, magnets, and a wooden charm!
Sagas: A DAA 2025 Zine
Featuring 4 full-length fanfics, 2 comics, and 7 art pieces, this booklet celebrates even more of Thedas' myths, legends, and heroes. From Grey Wardens to The Qun to ancient and Dalish elves, you won't want to miss out on this one-of-a-kind anthology!
Prints
Decorate your home and make sure your guests know you'd rather be in Thedas with these art prints featuring our favorite Seeker, Cassandra Pentaghast, and the fabled Emerald Knights! Keep an eye out for our stretch goals to find out how to get these prints upgraded to A4-sized 👀
Mini Tarot Cards
Divine your Dragon Age destiny with our set of four mini tarot cards! Featuring the new DAA logo on the back, flip the cards over to find that your future holds four brand new fanart designs.
Stickers
Water bottle looking a little bare? Or maybe you need to decorate your new laptop? Either way, we have a sticker extravaganza to suit your needs! *Unlock The Broken Arrow for all physical orders with one of our stretch goals. **Unlock Iron Bull Planner Stickers for all physical calendar orders with one of our stretch goals.
Magnets
Satisfy the demands of the Qun by picking up this magnet set! Featuring Qunari legends, Sten and The Iron Bull, these button magnets will make sure no space on your fridge—or wherever you display them—is wasted.
Charm
Purchase of this charm includes a golden bead ball-chain, so it can easily be used as a key chain or zipper pull! If a necklace is more your style, simply pair the conveniently sized and lightweight charm with your own chain or cord and wear to show off your Andrastian pride!
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I can't help but giggle how Ron and Harry in LH both doubt Draco's feelings for Hermione when it's, like, the complete OPPOSITE of what they think. Harry's being all big brother-y like about Hermione and how Draco should treat her right and respectfully or ELSE whilst Ron in the latest chapter assumes he's playing around with the poor girl.
And in reality I'm pretty sure Draco is envisioning his and Hermione's wizardesque wedding for the past 2 books.
Can't help but love the boys' obliviousness in regards to feelings here.
Also goes to show how Draco truly opens up only to Hermione in the most profound-est way. I love them.
Oh, yeah. I think I wrote this in a reply to a comment on AO3, but Ron and Harry are very good people afflicted with Teenage BoyBrain, and in Harry's case, Brother Instinct wherever Hermione is concerned. So they assumed that if Draco and Hermione like each other but aren't together, it's because Draco's not being an upstanding young gentleman, not because (as is the case) Hermione's indulging in a bit of age-appropriate emotional terrorism.
There are also broad gaps between (1) what Draco reveals via narration, (2) what he reveals to Hermione, and (3) what he reveals to Harry and Ron. They know each other very well, but Draco plays his cards so close to the chest — especially when it comes to the whole "if you're important to me it means I'd firebomb a hospital for you" thing. He has this unspoken idea that the moment he admits he cares for someone, they're immediately going to get snatched away by the long hand of the universe, which in fairness to him is informed by certain events that make him not totally wrong. (You might also attribute this to his taste in people, however, which trends towards the reckless and the driven; cue moth/flame metaphor, etc., etc., you all know.) So that's why there's about a half-year lag between whatever Draco recognizes in his own emotions and what everyone else in the story seems to believe: that's about how long it takes Draco to get comfortable broadcasting his feelings.
By the middle of fifth year, both Harry and Ron are full aware (as the chapters reveal!) that Draco cares for Hermione, but I think both boys project themselves onto him, to the detriment of their understanding (as most teenagers do). Ron reads a little more into Draco's possessiveness and jealousy, which are the traits they have most in common (cf. Ch.73). Part of that judgment is Ron's emotional straightforwardness: he sincerely can't imagine any reason that Draco wouldn't be dating her properly if the feeling was reciprocated, so he assumes that there must be some obstacle somewhere, and because he's a bit in love with Hermione in his own right, he obviously assumes the obstacle is Draco. What's Draco's number one problem? He's got a bucket of daddy issues and hangups over his family legacy, especially vis-a-vis public displays of affiliation. And Ron doesn't maybe think Draco's being actually prejudiced here (otherwise, he would have been much, much harsher with him in their argument) but he does think there's a degree of shame or uncertainty on Draco's part that's in the way of them getting together.
Harry, meanwhile, reads the whole situation as a communication failure: he thinks Draco doesn't realize what he's doing, because if it were Harry, messing someone around sincerely would be a cognition failure. It's not outside Harry's frame of possibility that Draco could end up in a romantically charged situationship by accident. And he probably rates higher the possibility that Draco would deliberately maintain a relationship like that to avoid losing Hermione's attention. Notably, Harry doesn't assume that Hermione's particularly hard-done-by in this situation; in fact, his default assumption is that she's where she wants to be, and if she didn't like it, she wouldn't be there. His trust in her is helped by the fact that he regards her as a pseudo-sister, and doesn't have any stake in the love triangle except that everyone treats each other well. For that reason, his final comment on the matter is a plea for Draco to consider how Ron might feel: he wants to remind them that they're friends, because he watched the group fall apart last year over an argument similar to this one (jealousy, possessiveness, and a torturous litigation of in-group favoritism). Harry is provoked to intercede because he thinks there's a danger of the situation blowing up due to miscommunication and leaving all of them isolated when they need support the most — which is naturally something that the increasingly isolated and angst-ridden Harry thinks should be top priority.
Anyway, I love them, too.
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Apple II (June 1977)
The original Apple II was one of the first highly successful personal computers, released by Apple Computer, Inc. (now Apple Inc.) in 1977. It was designed by Steve Wozniak, while Steve Jobs handled the business strategy. The Apple II played a pivotal role in launching the personal computing revolution.
Key Features:
Release Year: 1977
Processor: MOS Technology 6502 at 1 MHz
RAM: 4 KB, expandable up to 48 KB
Storage: Initially used cassette tapes; later supported 5.25" floppy disks (Disk II)
Graphics: Color graphics support — one of the first home computers to offer it
Display: 24 lines × 40 characters text or low-res color graphics (40×48 pixels, 16 colors)
Keyboard: Built-in QWERTY keyboard (initially no lowercase support)
Expansion: 8 internal slots for add-on cards (e.g., sound, memory, network)
Innovations and Impact:
One of the first PCs sold fully assembled in a case with a keyboard and video output — no need for DIY assembly.
Its color graphics and sound capabilities made it popular for games and multimedia software.
Widely adopted in U.S. schools during the 1980s for educational purposes.
Supported BASIC programming, business software, and early video games.
Legacy: The Apple II series (including the II Plus, IIe, IIc, and IIGS) remained in production into the early 1990s. Its commercial success was crucial for Apple's growth and helped pave the way for the Macintosh.
The Apple II is still considered a milestone in computing history, and it is admired for its innovation, accessibility, and influence on the PC industry.
#apple#apple ii#retro computing#retrocomputing#retro gaming#retrogaming#steve jobs#steve wozniak#mos 6502#computer#vintage computer#technology#tech#retro tech#vintage computing#computer history
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Shamelessly Smug!Ethan Landry x Sunshine!Reader
i was actually GEEKING while writing this. hopefully it makes someone else laugh too!
Warnings: Suggestive content/humor, talk of ethan's tip color, chad being a menace, ethan being unbearably smug
You were on a mission as soon as you stepped into Sephora. A mission to find a certain...shade.
The shade if you will.
That very specific, slightly flushed, warm pink that matched a very...intimate part of your boyfriend. Were you being dramatic? Absolutely. Would some people say it was weird? Probably.
But you were completely committed.
Swatching ten different shades, asking for samples, you even googled undertones. Undertones.
And then you finally found it, gasping like you just discovered a precious artifact. "Yes! That's it. That's the shade!" The employee blinked slowly. "...Of?" You only smiled and threw your debit card down on the counter.
Ethan was sitting on the couch when you planned to show him your surprise. He was completely unsuspecting. He looked like a golden retriever eating his post gym protein bar. You climbed into his lap slowly, a cute but mischievous smile on your face. "i bought something today." He raised a suspicious eyebrow, "And what would that be?"
Lips glossy and slightly pouty, you lean in and place a quick kiss to his mouth. "I got a new lip kit. Wanna guess what-" You pause and a teasing smirk forms, "Or rather who inspired the color?"
You watched the realization dawn on to his face. He blinked first. Then smirked. Hard. "No way." You grinned back. "Mmhmm."
"Baby. You color matched me?" You nod and place another kiss to his lips, "Specifically the tip."
The next time you wear your new shade of lipstick is out at brunch with Ethan, Chad, Tara, and Mindy.
"That's a really good shade on you Y/N/N." Mindy said it so casually, so casually you barely thought about the next thing that came out of your mouth. "Thanks! It matches Ethan's-" You choke on air. Ethan chokes on his orange juice. Chad leans in like you're about to spill a dirty secret. Which to be fair, you almost kinda did.
Mindy grinned like a cat at you, she knew. Of course she knew, she's Mindy. "Matches Ethan's what?" "Nothing."
"Oh no no no. Matches Ethan's what, cupcake?" You glance at Ethan for help. He wipes his mouth, and smirks smugly, "It matches my tip."
"THE TIP?!"
"LIKE...THE TIP TIP?"
Tara and Chad yell at the same time and Mindy just starts crying from laughter.
Ethan has his arm wrapped around you so casually, almost like nothing happened. "You know he's gonna be unbearable now." Tara mutters.
"HE ALREADY IS!"
Chad hasn't shut up laughing his ass off since he found out, "Dude, thats some powerful stuff. Your shit is so good it's anatomically inspired lipgloss." And then you watch as your boyfriend and Chad high five, causing you to smack his chest. "I'm sorry, baby! We'll stop."
It did not stop. At least for Chad it didn't.
You and Ethan were having such a wonderfully peaceful day, cuddled up on the couch, you were half asleep from his fingers lazily tracing circles on your thigh. And then your phones start to ping. It was the group chat. Specifically, it was Mindy.
'What the hell is Chad doing at Sephora asking about Ethan's tip gloss?!'
You freeze, "You're actually lying to me right now." Ethan laughs, "WHAT?"
Another message gets sent in the group chat, this time from Chad. 'Trying to match the legend🍆💋' Followed by a photo of him standing at a lipstick display.
Immediately you call Chad. He picks up on the first ring. "I hate you." "This is for science!" "CHAD! Did you actually say the word 'tip' to a Sephora employee?" Ethan chokes on air at you questioning Chad.
"I told the guy helping me that it was inspired by a very personal shade, and then he said 'Sir this is a Fenty Beauty counter.'"
Next thing you know, you're receiving another message from the group chat. This time a video from Mindy of Chad being escorted out of the Sephora by management.
"My legacy lives on." Ethan, of course, is thriving. "You're disgusting."
"You started it." You scoff at him, "PRIVATELY!" He only shrugs at you, "And now publicly. Internationally, maybe?" "Ethan."
"Baby. I'm a brand now."
And then Chad sends the tiktok he made.
He's whispering to the camera like he's reporting from a war zone. "They said I couldn't, that I shouldn't do it. But here I am...trying to match the shade of Ethan Landry's tip to a Fenty lip gloss. For science of course." He holds up a few different swatches to the camera. Then it cuts to him holding a lip gloss tube up to a tube of concealer.
"The woman at the counter just called security. We're doing amazing!"
The final shot is of Chad being physically escorted out, holding his fist up in the air like he's demanding justice. "I REGRET NOTHING! TELL ETHAN HE"S AN ICON!"
Ethan watches it three times. Then turns to you, dead serious, "I'm buying him dinner." "He got banned from a Sephora...asking for lip gloss in the shade of your...manhood!"
"Exactly, he got banned for me. That's loyalty." "I think that's actually insanity."
"He's a visionary! He's the Rosa Parks of tip gloss rights!" "WHAT?!"
Two days later, you get an email. From the Sephora Corporate Office.
Attached is a $50 voucher, and a very polite, and professional note. 'While we admire the confidence your boyfriend has, please do not bring his friend Mr. Meeks-Martin into our stores again. Have a great day.'
You actually die. Like die on the carpet, in front of Ethan's smug little feet. And Ethan frames the goddamn email. Hangs it up like it's his diploma from grad school. "Ethan, we ARE NOT keeping that up." He turned to you grinning, "You started a revolution with your mouth, sweetheart. Own it." You aim a pillow at his face, that he effortlessly dodges and crawls over you with a smirk.
"You gonna reapply your 'Landry Pink Tip Gloss'?" "I don't have it anymore. I gave it to Chad so he would quit getting band from makeup stores." Ethan's face falls for a split second, before another smug smirk takes over his ridiculously handsome face.
"Guess I need to remind you of the shade then."
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Opinions on copycat heroes? As in people that take up abandoned mantles.
I always found facinating how you can take over the name of someone you have never met, but my buddie thinks is kind of morbid, specially when the hero is dead.
I think "copycat heroes" is the wrong nomenclature in this case, unless we're talking about something specific. I'll give you a broader example of the kind that I'm mostly sure you're talking about and then a second example of the more...strict case.
Now, what I THINK you mean when you say "copycat" in this case are heroes who take names that have previously been used by others without having a direct relationship to that hero. Especially if said hero has passed on. Without some kind of acknowledgement from the original hero to pass on their names. Excuse me for a semi-repeated example but I just answered another ask on this heroic legacy so it's on my mind.

(The most famous photograph of the 5th hero to call himself Starman, The Arizona Daily Star)
This Starman is a famous and beloved hero in his hometown of Tucson, Arizona and the surrounding southwest. As far as we are publically aware he has no relation to the Knight family or either of the previous aliens who held the title in the interregnum between Ted Knight's retirement and Jack Knight's temporary assumption of the mantle.
Despite having taken this title for himself, while Ted Knight was very much living, this Starman is remembered as having bravely faced menaces like Bolt and Doctor Polaris, even stepping up to the challenge of the Dominator invasion and eventually giving his life in battle against the villainous Eclipso.
When asked about this very thing, I think Jack Knight put it best in his VERY long final interview. "I didn't know the guy personally but no one I've ever met who did has ever said an unkind word about him. I read some of the things he did, some of the fights he took, even how he went out...Connected with his family pretty deep after I found out about him too. No names you understand, even for the dead but the bottom line is that he was there when people needed him and he died with his colors on. Hell, probably a better Starman than I ever amounted to."
Now the OTHER example is much rarer and shows a facet of this part of the superhero community that I think throws things into a stark enough relief to be understood.

(An image of Nicki Jones as "Jade", taken from her "Infinity Inc" trading card, the image is of her first appearance at the Metropolis Thanksgiving Parade)
Nicki Jones was not the perpetrator of the crime on display here, we can lay the entirety of the blame for thist "Infinity Inc" farce at the feet of Lex Luthor and we all know it, but the example is demonstrative.
The entire effort was an affront to the good name of heroes who, living or dead, had sacrificed and struggled directly in the legacy of their JSA predecessors and names they made their own. Scooped out through a dubious buyout of the Pemberton estate (which is why its now the law that superhero names and images are not under business copyright as characters but as the good names of individuals). Lex Luthor using his money to rub the JSA's noses in it. But this "fake Jade" was a step too far, as the real Jade, Jennie-Lynn Hayden, the daughter of the original Green Lantern had recently perished in a battle during the 2nd Multiversal Crisis. Her brother, Obsidian, famously inflammatory in nature confronted her in front of the public and was only barely restrained from violence by the very curt intervention of his father. The entire enterprise would be very quickly revealed as a shit show from top to bottom and none of the "heroes" within it worth the paper their stickers and endorsements were printed on but that's neither here nor there.
The deciding factor here is intent and respect.
Superheroes do not view themselves, nor do they act as if they are copyrighted beings. There is no officially enforced code of conduct within their community. There is simply a mutual understanding that that community self enforce for the sake of the public trust and their bonds with one another. The Arizona Starman was a hero, by all accounts and in every sense. He wore the name he chose well and acted with all heroic intentions. Had he ever met a member of the Knight clan I'm sure they would have worked it out amicably over coffee and a handshake.
The Infinity Inc "project" trotted out the corpse of a woman who wasn't even a year dead as if she was the newest iPhone to replace. When confronted by the people who loved and respected Jade in life, both their intentions for that name and respect upon it were found wanting.
If you are found to be dragging someone else's name, especially the name of a departed comrade through the mud. The superhero community will not settle the matter in intellectual claims court.
#dc#dcu#dc comics#dc universe#superhero#comics#tw unreality#unreality#unreality blog#ask game#ask blog#asks open#please interact#worldbuilding#starman#jack knight#will payton#jade#jennie lynn hayden#nicki jones
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niskala suaka
Abdul Murad bin Abu Yamin was a young soul with strong desires.
He knew his purpose, knew his legacy.
More importantly, he knew how to keep his cards close to his chest.
Which is more than what he can say about Beja.
For all that he can honestly say about his adorable baby brothers (a moniker that never failed to make Beja glare venomously while Kahar-sweet, unsupecting Kahar would giggle softly), they were much too soft—yes even Beja was deemed too soft.
Beja was idealistic—enamoured with the idea of legacy and tradition. Too believing of the rehearsed sanctity of old lores. Worse, Beja couldn't even see pass their own father's hypocrisy.
Beyyad was all for filial towards their family, and as reluctant as he was, he played the role of obedient son far too well. But unlike Beja's blatant dedication, Beyyad was merely biding his time.
He's seen all that lies beyond Kudrat walls, knows the necessary evil that exist within its tainted walls. Call him a hypocrite but he knew well enough which battles to wage and which war to conquer.
He had expected Beja to share the same sentiment (he does worry for Kahar—fuck it, he'd be lying if he didn't twitch each time their father's temper flare when it came to Kahar) but Beja seemed to toe the line of blind loyalty and thinly motivated self-assered motivations.
Case in point, the fucking reason why Beja even deigns to associate himself with Megat Shah so much.
Initially yes, Beyyad technically did push them together for a partnership but it wasn't by choice really.
Megat Shah came from old money—he embodied Kudrat's foundations, golden spoon and the coonections he forged not only through his heritage but the kid knew how to play a crowd like a fiddle.
He had no prospects though—Megat Shah, for all the advantages he had was simply a fool (or an asshole). Just another rich kid playing the rebellious card too much.
Murad had assumed Beja would grow to despise him enough to steer clear of the kid once he's learnt how astonishingly mediocre Megat was.
What he could never predicted was that a year later, he'd still have Beja spouting some new facts about Megat in the spare time all three of them got to spend together at home.
Sure when he finished his SPM he did noticed how Beja and Megat never really parted ways—they were in the same batch and quite possibly the only ones who actually rivalled each other in terms of lineage and adequacy. Murad had brushed it off then.
But not when he noticed the frequent texting, the occasional foreign clothings ("Jaa, bilo mu beli hoodie ni?" "Ohh, tu bukan aku punyo. Tu Shah punyo." "Shah?") In hindsight, maybe his sharp tone was a bit hasty, considering that Beja had clamped up immediately afterwards, perceptively concealing his relationship with the other.
Luckily enough, Kahar was easier to pry information from, slipping about how the whole school practically recognizes the partnership between Reza and Megat—dubbing the two as some sort of dynamic duo.
Murad refused to admit that it grated on his nerves a bit when Beja brought Megat over, claiming that since it was only a short break, Megat and him had some work to do together.
Megat Shah's sheer presence unnerved him—not because he was languidly draped against one of their father's precious mahogony sofa like a cat, reading a damned comic, of all things—but the way both his baby brothers seemed to accept the integration into their household.
Kahar seemed to like Megat's easygoing crude jokes (he supposes at times he and Beja can get kinda serious *cough* boring *cough*) but Beja himself, though outwardly displaying his distaste ("Oiii, asal kau buat macam rumah kau, setan—" "Ehh Jaaa, kau yang ajak aku sini. Kene laa layan aku macam raja~") seemed to enable Megat's blatant callousness (Murad would've kicked him out if it wasn't for the sharp glare Beja sent him)
And it wasn't an isolated incident either.
Somehow, there's more and more remnance of Megat Shah in the Ab Yamin household—some Led Zepellin CDs left there in Beja's room, the ugly cheap silver rings that 'Shah' claims were trending. How apparently Megat Shah is a huge history nerd in spite of his emo cool kids facade.
The things he's forced to know about Megat Shah has been apparently itemized in alphabetical order with 80% of it came from what Beja had slipped/allowed Murad to read off of him.
Effectively the kid pisses him off and it's not just because he once very stupidly told Murad, "Tahu laa kau dulu Kapla besar kat Kudrat tapi tengok ahh nanti kitorang kalahkan batch kau—" ( the only reason why he didn't immediately punched the kid who was five years his junior was because he'd noticed the particular pronoun he used.)
Kitorang
Him and Beja.
Abdul Reza and Megat Shah.
As if they were a package deal—inseperable, tackling a legacy they couldn't even fanthom.
Serumpun bak serai, sesusun bak sirih Macam ombak di pantai bersama pasir berkasih
But waves can easily wipe out entire lines in the sand. So out of pettiness Murad calls Beja out on it.
"Buat gapo mu beriya simpan budok tu jadi saing rapat mu? Tok cukup kuat ko mu nak berdiri sendiri, sampai keno guna tongkat?"
It's a cruel dialogue, something their father would spout and he sees Beja bristles.
For a fleeting second, Murad almost wants to backtrack.
He is the oldest son of the Abu Yamin family, the heir apparent. It is his job to watch over his brothers.
Kudrat is not a sacred place where the last real Malay men are created.
No, Kudrat is a viscious, cuthroat aquarium where boys equipped themselves with the ability to make allies, to forge pacts that is easily severed.
A place where you either sink or swim.
Murad hates it with every fibre it woul serve a purpose to prepare his brothers for the real world, once they've realized the ridiculous state of their nation.
While he expects that Kahar would struggle a bit but he expected that if Reza could soar then Kahar could stand a chance.
His father had sold him an ocean And Murad was almost lost in the flood
Beja scoffs, "Mu toksoh sibuk pasal aku. Aku tahu jago diri aku."
It's a hard decision, but Murad loves his brother.
And he knows this exchange was enough for Beja to cut Megat off.
A throne could only seat one king.
Tiga warna tujuh jiwa sumpah setia Putih merah sifat niskala suaka
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I always like playing the irony card in the "Sephiroth suddenly aquires a child" AUs.
During Crisis Core, avoiding Nibelhiem entirely and becoming a fix it: Sephiroth's child has silver hair, pale skin, and round mako blue eyes. All Sephiroth ever wanted was a normal life, to be like everyone else, to fit in. But even when he risks everything to give that life to his child, they hold all the traits that stick out like sore thumbs.
The end of FF7, where Sephiroth attains godhood and claims the planet: The child has brown hair, fair skin, but glowing red eyes. Every time he looks at the simple test of his ability to maintain life for the future he builds, those eyes are the only thing that bring him the slightest segment of joy. That Jenova's legacy somewhat exists in that pathetically human form.
Crisis Core, but Nibelhiem still occurs, and his goal of claiming the planet remains: his child has his slit eyes, but a codominate display of silver and black hair. Black from Hojo. Silver from Jenova. This child doesn't fit in anywhere, but satisfies both human and extraterrestrial characteristics. They can almost be normal. But those dreams are forgotten when Sephiroth learns the truth in Shinra manner.
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The Sims 4 Life & Death Expansion Pack is Now Available For Pre-order
You can preorder The Sims 4 Life & Death Expansion Pack now to start playing immediately when it launches on October 31, 2024 on PC via EA app™, Mac® via Origin, Epic Games Store and Steam®, PlayStation®5, PlayStation®4, Xbox Series X|S and Xbox One systems. The expansion pack will be released on October 31, 2024, and costs $39.99.
EA and Maxis have just dropped an official asset pack for their upcoming The Sims 4 Life & Death Expansion Pack.

The screenshots showcase the new Grim Reaper Career, brand new World called Ravenwood and unique ghastly interactions coming in this DLC set.
Peel back the veil to uncover the secret to richer Sim lives and beyond in The Sims 4 Life & Death Expansion Pack. Achieve your dreams in life by ticking items off your Bucket List or pursue them as a Ghost with Unfinished Business. There is a ghastly new world to haunt, a career that’ll bring you closer to Grim, Wills to write, Crypts to explore, and even ghostly skills to master. There are no real endings — only transitions — as you move between life, afterlife, and even rebirth.
Official Description and Features
An Endless Journey
Build your Bucket List by collecting goals throughout your Sim’s life, starting as a Young Adult. Items will appear on your list based on your Sim’s traits and family relations, and you can also choose your own. Removing items is possible, but completing them yields powerful rewards. If a Sim’s life ends with items still on their list, they can devote their afterlife to completing their Unfinished Business. The ultimate reward for experiencing everything on their list is the option to be Reborn, though you can still choose to Move On or remain on this plane as a Ghost.
A Ghastly, Gorgeous Life
Make death your life’s work with a career of reaping souls, helping Ghosts, dispersing hauntings, and more as a member of Grim’s team. Or, you could become a Mortician and deal with death more from the perspective of the living. Outside of work, you might spend your days exploring Crypts and building your Thanatology skill for the new Ghost Historian Aspiration. These things – among other dark diversions like bonding with your Pet Crow (careful, provoking it could be deadly) or collecting and reading the lost Tarot Cards of Lady Ravendancer Goth – will have a special appeal to Sims who are Macabre, one of 3 new traits.
Goodbye (For Now)
Different Sims will grieve in different ways. There are 4 types that will tie in with both Sims’ personalities and their relationships with the deceased. Grieving Rituals are customizable and unscripted, allowing you to hold whatever type of event (or events) fits your story. In life, Sims can create Wills which can be used to pass down Heirlooms, assign guardians for surviving dependents, distribute their Simoleons, and more. Sims can honor the departed with a memorial display featuring their portrait, and by interring their urns in Crypts or with Custom Caskets and Gravesites.
Friendly or Fiendish?
Linger on as a Ghost and spend your afterlife helping or terrorizing the living. Ghosts will grow in their abilities as they do everything from assisting with household chores to levitating living Sims and hanging them upside down (fun AND profitable - they may drop Simoleons!). Their interactions with the living can earn them Fear or Goodwill essences, which can both be sold for Simoleons. There’s a lot to do after death; Ghosts can even pair up for a special, spectral Woohoo.
Official Sims 4 Life & Death Screens





Life & Death Pre-Order Bonus
If you purchase The Sims 4 Life & Death Expansion Pack by December 12th, you’ll receive the Macabre Mementos Digital Content set! This three-piece set contains two new Build items and one CAS item, including:
Lasting Legacy Family Portrait

Mournful Melodies Music Box

Plumed Elegance Mask


Macabre Mementos Digital Content —Wonder at treasures that have endured time’s passing, witnessing the come and go of generations with ghastly grace. Look upon those who came before in the Lasting Legacy Family Portrait, listen to the haunting lullaby of the Mournful Melodies Music Box, and masquerade in fowl finery with the Plumed Elegance Mask, available when you order through December 12**.
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Gravity Falls Tarot - Part 1 of 3
Assignment of every Major Arcana to someone/something in the Gravity Falls Universe! Broken into parts for coherence.
In this section we cover the first eight cards from The Fool to The Chariot.
Part 2 | Part 3
0.) The Fool - Soos Ramirez
Keywords: Innocence, idealism, curiosity, gullible, and silly
The word Fool conjures images of clowns and jesters delighting those around them or undercutting the seriousness of a situation. Soos as a character is the comedic relief of the main cast yet still gets a charming narrative.
As a young adult Soos still carries a childike sense of wonder, admiring the Mystery Shack and equating it to 'a place of dreams'. He's also shown enjoying various media ranging from comic books, to anime, and video games. Together, these display the value Soos places upon stories not just as entertainment but as inspiration.
The Fool is the beginning of the Journey and Soos' Journey began when he wandered into the Mystery Shack. Ultimately, he ended in the same place, transitioning from inspired to inspirer. Through his genuine commitment to himself and his ideals Soos is rewarded by inhering the legacy of his father figure, Stan Pines.
1.) The Magician - Grenda Grendinator
Keywords: Desire, willpower, manifestation, proactive, and skilled
To many, the word Magician conjures figures both esoteric and scholarly - traits that one wouldn't normally associate with Grenda. However, in tarot The Magician actually embodies one lesson; As Above, So Below. To shape ones surroundings one must work with intention.
Despite her youth Grenda carries a self assurance that many adults would envy. This nature brings her success in courting a partner many would see as out of her league, the Prince Marius. Marius is quoted as loving how 'bold' Grenda is, as her straightforward personality cuts through the pageantry he's accustomed to.
When others change, Grenda remains strong in muscle, and heart, without doubts in her worth.
2.) The High Priestess - The Oracle
Keywords: Intuition, magic, duality, patience, and mystery
The High Priestess is a guardian of mystery, one who safeguards secrets both tempting and corrupting. The Oracle assisted Ford during his time in the multiverse, installing the metal plate that kept Bill from the scientists mind.
As a(n implied) former henchmaniac, The Oracle has inside knowledge about Bill Cipher and his schemes. She willingly turned from his group and sequestered herself in a mountaintop shrine to bide her time.
For the role she plays in Fords story, the undoing of Bill Cipher, and reverance for the Axolotl, The Oracle does well to embody the lessons of The High Priestess.
3.) The Empress - Abuelita
Keywords: Motherhood, nurturing, beauty, generosity, and support
The Empress evokes a woman who is both mother and ruler. Abuelita is the matriarch of the Ramirez family having raised her children, outlived her husband, and gone on to raise some of her grandchildren.
Having entered her later years, she has overcome the trials of motherhood and applies those lessons to raising her grandson Soos. While he has trouble speaking to women his own age, Soos expresses a clear respect for his grandmother, spending quality time with her and taking her advice to heart.
When Soos inherits the Mystery Shack she immediately moves in, not out of selfishness, but an understanding that where her family goes she goes.
4.) The Emperor - Manly Dan
Keywords: Fatherhood, focus, protection, routine, and power
The Emperor is a stoic figure, steadfast and disciplined. In his youth Manly Dan was called 'Boyish Dan' an indication that his epithet was cultivated over time. As head of the Corduroy household Manly Dan raises four children, one daughter, and three sons.
We're shown time and again that Manly Dan's strength is incredible, and garners him great respect from fellow townsfolk - particularly Tyler Cutebiker the towns current Mayor. When Dipper doubts his own masculinity Manly Dan is one of the figures he feels compelled to emulate.
Importantly, despite how he stresses her out with his 'intensity', Manly Dan has imparted practical skills that serve his daughter Wendy during moments of crisis.
5.) The Hierophant - Blind Ivan
Keywords: Conformity, education, religion, cults, and tradition
The Hierophant is a religious figure with dutiful acolytes and an unyielding scripture. As head of the 'Society of the Blind Eye' Blind Ivan is regarded as one of the most principled members. When the citizens encounter weirdness he guides them through the process of forgetting and conforming into blissful ignorance.
At the end of his debut episode Blind Ivan has his principles bastardized, forced to forget all that he was, becoming a blank slate. Interestingly, this makes him conform alongside the other citizens of Gravity Falls, blending into the background like any other.
In a way, by losing his mantle, he imparts the lesson that underneath it all we are all human.
6.) The Lovers - Dipper Pines
Keywords: Union, harmony, relationships, romance, and love
Didn't expect this twin here did you? Don't click away! - ahem -
The Lovers depicts a union of opposites who compliment and create something grander together than apart. Dipper is the twin of Mabel and their relationship as brother and sister is integral to the narrative of Gravity Falls. When the allure of going off with Ford presents itself Dipper ultimately decides that to journey without Mabel would be a journey not worth taking.
Dipper is also strongly defined by his relationship to Wendy. While Mabel experiences multiple crushes over the summer, Dipper only ever has eyes for one. In a moment of vulnerablity he is turned down as romantic partner, and then later has his importance as platonic friend affirmed when Wendy switches hats with him at the end of the summer.
As a testament to the value he gives towards his relationships, Dipper says the following; "But looking here at all of you I realize that every wish came true, I have everything I wanted."
7.) The Chariot - Gideon Gleeful
Keywords: Ambition, direction, force, destination, and control
The Chariot depicts a rider with two steeds both stronger than themself and yet bound to their control. Gideon is the antagonist of the first season, wielding powerful influence over many of Gravity Falls' citizens.
Even after his imprisonment Gideon's charisma draws in the support of nearly all his fellow prisoners. When Weirdmaggedon hits he travels around on a monster truck, enforcing chaos and disorder in the name of Bill Cipher. With Dipper's help, Gideon realizes that not only is he getting further away from his destination, Mabel, but that he is in fact the one on the leash.
While Gideon's determination is commendable, his story is also a warning to avoid growing obsessed.
#gravity falls#tarot#tarot cards#soos ramirez#grenda grendinator#the oracle#abuelita#manly dan#blind ivan#dipper pines#gideon gleeful#dipper and mabel#feel free to disect#would love others perspective#part two to follow in two days#the book of bill
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Life on the streets as a starving artist is not all the movies make it out to be. Allison was just lucky that on most nights, San Myshuno had a festival somewhere that offered regularly cheap food, access to plants for seeds, and places with enough people to busk and yes even find a spot and beg for. Another form of money came from being one of the human statue performers, which her upbringing as the child of famous magicians helped tremendously with.
Even so, she felt a small comfort in finding the free posters and cheap snow globes. She kept these as small luxuries. They made her determined to find a home as a place to display everything she found.
She was extremely lucky that over in Evergreen Harbor they had recently opened a Rec Center and Library as a community outreach program, it was there were she spent most of her days, mostly by writing listicles and such that payed 100 simoleans an article. This eventually earned her enough for a set of tarot cards as another way to earn some money, a sleeping bag (No more sleeping on benches or in dumpster when the homeless shelter had no beds!), and even her own laptop she bought at a pawnshop.
She made a few friends, even someone she guessed she could all a boyfriend. She didn't really know how she truly felt about Knox but he seemed to genuinely wanted to help her out of her current situation.
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The Rhode Legacy is a combination of the Homeless rags to riches and the Whimsy Stories legacy by @kateraed. I thought these two went well together!
Unlike the founding story in the Whimsy stories legacy, Allison is actually one of those nepobabies that was trying to live like being a poor starving artist until she was actually cut off for pursuing that. Now she's actually homeless, and not just pretending to be for the "aesthetic" (I guess that's the english for it).
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fall: book II of the rise series
Chapter 34: “Still Running S—t”
The Nike collab dropped on a Wednesday morning. No warning. No pre-tease.
Just a post from @ Nike that read:
“For the women who carry the world and still make it look fly.” The IMANI 1s. Power. Performance. Presence.
The image? Imani, seated on a white block, fresh-pressed mom-jeans cuffed at the ankle, her own signature black-and-gold 1s laced tight. Tattoos on display, fresh manicure gripping Sade’s little hand as the toddler stood proudly in her own matching mini pair—grinning with her grills showing like her mama.
Within 2 hours, the shoes sold out. ESPN, Bleacher Report, even Forbes Women reposted.
“First single mother in Nike history with her own line. Legacy in motion.” “Mom-boss. Market disrupter. Game changer.” “From heartbroken to household name—IMANI is writing the blueprint.”
Back in Georgia? It was a different scene.
Jey went live at 1:17am.
Eyes red. Waves frizzy. Hoodie pulled low. The live started with silence, just him pacing.
300 people joined. Then 800. Then 3K.
“Y’all actin’ like I ain’t love her,” he mumbled, voice cracking. “I made mistakes, yeah… but she got the whole world clappin’ like she ain’t never been no problem either—”
He sniffed, stopped pacing.
“A sneaker line, bruh? For real? Like… damn.”
“She let another man hold my daughter and now y’all wanna put her on a billboard?”
Chat blew up:
“Yup.” “Cry harder, dog.” “You fumbled the entire bag AND the baby.” “She Imani Jordan now. Keep it pushin.”
Then came the final straw.
A fan dropped the link to her new commercial, playing on repeat now on Nike’s story—Imani walking into her center, Sade on her hip, smiling.
Voiceover?
“I didn’t just lace up for the game. I laced up for my life.”
Jey ended the live mid-comment.
But the screen recordings? Already viral.
TMZ’s headline the next morning:
“Jey crashes out over ex-fiancée Imani’s Nike deal—‘She got the shoes, the baby, and the crown.’”
—————
Post: @ Imani.Walks
It went up 24 hours after Jey’s Instagram Live meltdown.
No captions. No explanation. No emojis.
Just a photo of Imani standing on a sunlit patio somewhere in California, skin glistening, locs freshly done, her arm wrapped tight around Sade’s little waist as the toddler laughed in a ruffled white sundress. Imani wore a soft yellow one, a fresh grill shining as she smirked slightly into the camera—head tilted, eyes calm but cold.
At their feet? The unreleased IMANI 1s: “Sunset Soul” edition. Her feet. Sade’s feet. Matching again.
Underneath the post in a soft but vicious cursive:
“Y’all out here screaming her name… but you don’t even know her shoe size. You couldn’t walk in mine if your life depended on it. Put up or shut up, bitch.”
1.3 million likes in 2 hours.
Drake commented: “Lace me when they restock. That’s queen behavior.” Keke Palmer: “Mothering while motherin’. Love to see it.” Sza: “Poetry.”
Jey? Turned his comments off. Again.
———-
Chapter 35
It had been a long road back to himself. No cameras. No family. No fans screaming his name. Just blood, sweat, and quiet humiliation.
Jey had disappeared from the public eye after Imani left. The headlines had buried him alive. The internet ate him up and spit him out, memes and all—“The one who fumbled Imani,” they called him. Every IG comment was a knife: you deserve that pain, you should’ve worshipped her, bum. Even his own brothers looked at him different, stopped laughing with him, stopped covering for him. And Solo? Solo barely spoke.
So he shut it all out.
Moved into a private loft hours outside the city. No distractions. Just fists and footwork. Joined a secluded training camp. Fought in silence. Twelve months of getting his ass beat in sparring sessions, learning how to breathe again, how to hit harder, smarter.
And now it was his time.
His professional boxing debut wasn’t heavily promoted—just a mid-card on a Friday night fight stream—but the people who saw it? They felt it. His body was leaner, tighter. Neck still tatted, grill still shining under the lights, and his cut? Sharp. Tapered sides, curls on top, lined up crisp with the waves dancing in the fade. He looked like a new man. He was.
He walked into that ring with a silence that shook. No wild entourage. Just him and his coach.
Three rounds in, and the crowd changed. It started with murmurs. Then gasps. Then full-throated roars.
Jey was surgical. Fast hands. Heavy hits. He dropped his opponent in the fourth with a body shot that made the whole arena groan. By the sixth, it was a technical knockout. Jey stood over the ropes, sweat glistening under the lights, chest heaving, arms raised.
No smile. No taunt. Just eyes burning into the camera as the announcer yelled his name.
The clip went viral within hours.
“Jey Uso makes a violent debut in the pro boxing world—Redemption Season?” “The one who lost everything comes back swinging.” “Imani’s ex-fiancé drops man like he dropped the bag.”
Even ESPN couldn’t ignore it. Highlights flooded TikTok. His name hit trending. People debated in the comments if this meant he deserved another chance at life… or love.
And somewhere, Jey sat alone in his locker room, hands wrapped, staring at his phone. No message from her. No sign of her watching.
Just silence.
And maybe he deserved that too.
But he was coming.
—————
Chapter 36 “What they meant for my downfall, only built my kingdom.”
The streets talked different now when they said his name.
No longer just “that twin,” or “that ex.” No more echoes of scandal clinging to his skin like smoke. They were talking about him. Jey. No gimmicks, no shadows, no brothers at his side to soften the fall. Just a man who'd burned in silence and came back blazing.
It started with the comeback fight, but the wave didn’t stop there.
Two fights in, both knockouts. Training footage went viral. That slow-motion video of him cracking his opponent’s ribs with a clean left hook had damn near 10 million views. People followed him just to figure out who he was when the gloves came off.
And Jey made sure to show them.
Photoshoots dripped with luxury—his skin bronzed and glowing, outfits clean-cut, tailored, grown. No chains hanging low, just designer black shades and bold suits that made him look like he belonged in GQ. His hair stayed trimmed and shaped, the thick curls on top sculpted and perfectly defined, the taper fade sharp enough to draw blood.
He’d started showing up to community gyms with cameras trailing behind—not for show, but for the kids. Throwing clinics in neighborhoods that reminded him of where he came from. Quietly covering tuition fees, buying cleats, rebuilding lockers in forgotten high schools. No speeches. Just a nod and a check with his name on it.
His Instagram was clocking half a million now. Each post more calculated than the last—him alone in dim locker rooms, shirtless with gloves slung over his shoulder, cuts healing slow over his tattooed torso. His captions were subtle. "Built, not begged." "Earned every bruise." "Silence taught me louder lessons."
But the ones that made people pause? The ones that hit millions of likes?
The ones with hints of her in them.
Like the picture of him leaning against his new blacked-out truck, same model she used to drive. Or the charity post tagged in Memphis, even though he had no fights scheduled anywhere near there. Or the IG story clip, half a second long, showing him scrolling past her viral Sports Illustrated cover—then closing the phone and looking out the window.
She never responded.
Never liked, never viewed, never said a word.
But his motive was unshakable.
He wanted to be great. He wanted to be whole. He wanted to be seen—by her.
—————
Chapter 37 “He had everything but the one thing that mattered.”
The glow-up was loud. But the silence afterward? Deafening.
Jey was everywhere now. Talk shows, post-fight interviews, panels with other rising athletes. The public had started rooting for him again—young boys wore his merch, grown men reposted his knockouts, even women who once clowned him in comment sections were spinning the block, saying things like:
"He just needed to grow up." "I always knew he had it in him." "A redemption story in the making."
Hashtags trended. #JeyComeback. #FromTheMudToMainStage. #GirlYouBettaWatchOut.
They said maybe he just lost himself for a while. Maybe the breakup turned the boy into a man. Maybe, just maybe, he deserved another chance.
But none of them knew what it was like when the cameras cut off.
None of them saw how his eyes locked on every little girl with brown curls at his charity events—how his whole body would pause when a toddler yelled “daddy!” only to turn and run into someone else’s arms.
Or the nights he sat in his penthouse in silence, replaying the video of that red sundress and Sade’s smile. The caption still burned behind his eyelids:
"You don’t even know her shoe size. Put up or shut up, bitch."
He hadn’t slept that night.
There were messages he never sent. One was just her name. Another was a voice memo he recorded four times and still never finished.
His phone? Full of old pictures. One of Sade drooling in her high chair, messy curls and two teeth showing. Another of Imani asleep on the couch, baby on her chest, ring still on her finger.
He scrolled those every night before bed. Sometimes with whiskey. Sometimes with tears.
His brothers had stopped asking if he was okay. They knew the look now—how he clenched his jaw when her name trended, how his hands balled into fists when fans tagged her in his fight recaps like she was the muse to his pain.
Even Solo had muttered under his breath one day, “Should’ve never played with her like that, dawg.”
The internet kept comparing them. “Power couple turned plot twist.” “Imani thriving, Jey surviving.” But it was the comments under her posts that hit hardest. “He fumbled THEE bag.” “She upgraded spiritually, emotionally, and financially.” “You lost her and the baby. Now you just swole and sad.”
Still, he trained harder. Fought cleaner. Smiled wider in interviews.
Because one day, he thought maybe… maybe she’d look back and say, “He did change.” That maybe she’d see he wasn’t the same man that tossed everything they built into the dirt for a cheap thrill.
But every time he picked up his phone to text her—he’d freeze.
Because how do you explain throwing a diamond away?
How do you come back from burning the bridge that led to your whole future?
And what if she was already too far gone?
—��-
Chapter 38 “You never know who’s watching… until they walk in.”
The lights in the arena burned like glory. A sold-out crowd. Cameras. Paparazzi already snapping outside the tunnels. Tonight was the fight that could flip Jey’s entire career into global orbit.
It wasn’t just another match—it was the match. Endorsements on the line. Major title potential. Legacy-defining.
He was back in the prep room. Gloves half-laced. Sweat already glistening across his bare chest as his coach went over strategy for the last time. His team buzzed around him, hyped and locked in.
Until it hit— That sound.
That familiar, innocent squeal that made his heart drop straight to the soles of his boots. “DADDYYYY!!”
The whole room shifted. His body froze. He blinked like he’d imagined it.
But she was there. Wobbling in her little designer sneakers, curls bouncing, tutu peeking out under a varsity-style hoodie. His name stitched across the back.
Sade.
She crashed into his legs full force, arms wide, smile even wider. “I saw you on TV! I saw you fighting!” Her voice was so pure, so proud.
He dropped to his knees—his gloves forgotten—and held her close, forehead pressed to her curls. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even look up at first.
And then he did.
Past her tiny shoulder, leaning cool against the wall like time hadn’t touched her at all, was her.
Imani.
Arms crossed. Shades on. Face unreadable.
That red pout sat firm, cheekbones sharp, not a trace of warmth on her expression. She was everything elegant and untouchable. A walking vision of growth, healing, and quiet power.
The room grew hushed.
Jey’s chest rose and fell harder. He couldn’t even pretend he expected this.
Someone had snapped a photo from the hallway already—Sade in his arms, Imani in the background, shades on, arms folded like a headline waiting to happen.
It would hit the blogs before the bell ever rang.
He cleared his throat, standing with his daughter in his arms, still staring at the woman he broke. “You… y’all came?”
Imani just gave a slight nod. No smile. No words. Like she was here out of responsibility, not support.
Maybe she was.
Maybe Sade had begged.
Maybe she wanted her daughter to remember what it looked like when her father won. Or maybe she wanted him to remember what he lost when she left.
His coach whispered something, but it didn’t matter. The whole world outside could wait.
Jey looked back down at the little girl hugging his neck like he was everything. For a moment, he wanted to believe he still could be. But when he glanced up again, Imani had already turned her head—scrolling her phone like he didn’t matter at all.
That was the real KO.
Before the gloves even touched.
————
Chapter 39: “Victory in His Eyes”
The crowd roared, their collective voice like thunder, but all Jey could hear was the faint whistling of his daughter’s giggles, her squeals as she tugged at his gloves, trying to get a piece of him.
The fight was brutal, grueling. He took punch after punch, but he dished it out even harder. The stakes were high, and tonight, he felt every ounce of the pressure.
But when he looked up, when he saw her—Sade—running toward him, his heart squeezed in his chest. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought. None of it. The bright lights, the cameras, the winning streak, or the fact that he was about to make history. Nothing mattered more than the sight of her.
Sade giggled, her tiny body rushing toward him, tugging at his gloves like they were the coolest things in the world. “Daddy, I want to fight like you!” she declared, making a wild jab at the air. Jey’s heart nearly stopped. She was his world.
His moment of glory hit right then, in the form of his daughter’s pure joy. Maybe it was seeing her so excited that pushed him past the exhaustion. Maybe it was the thought of how far he’d come—not just in the ring, but in proving to her, to everyone, that he could be something more.
The final bell rang. He’d done it. He was the champion now. His coach shouted something about the knockout, but Jey’s gaze never wavered from Sade.
He lifted her high, spinning her around with a grin on his face that couldn’t be more genuine. His gloves were a little tighter now, but all he could feel was that joy. She had no idea what this moment meant—what she meant. She had always been his true prize.
But then his eyes flicked to the back of the room, to where he had hoped she’d be—Imani.
She wasn’t watching from the stands like he imagined. Instead, she was seated in the VIP room backstage, her fingers moving over her phone as if everything was a distant memory to her now.
Her dark shades shielded her eyes, but the stiff, unfazed posture told him everything he needed to know.
She wasn’t even looking at him. Not yet. Not after everything that had happened.
Jey let out a breath, knowing he needed more than this moment. He needed her. But more than anything, he needed her to see the man he had become.
Post-fight, backstage:
Sade continued to run circles around him, her joy contagious, but Jey couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. His eyes kept darting to Imani, who remained distant, scrolling through her phone. She was checking her social media. He could only guess what she saw—the viral photos, the interviews. The world was watching him in a way it never had before.
But what was the point of all that recognition if the woman he wanted to share it with wasn’t looking at him? Didn’t care to see it?
“Daddy!” Sade tugged at his glove again, snapping him back to reality. “Come on, let’s go. I want ice cream!”
Jey chuckled softly, kneeling down to meet her at eye level. “Alright, little champion. Let’s go get that ice cream. But first, I’ve got to say hey to someone.”
Sade nodded, eager and bouncing around with her own excitement. “Can I help you get ready?”
Jey grinned, ruffling her hair. “You’re my lucky charm, kid. You’ve already helped me more than you know.”
He walked over to Imani, his heart racing just a bit, uncertainty creeping in.
She looked up from her phone as he approached, meeting his gaze with a neutral expression. The space between them felt like a mile.
“You came,” he said softly.
Imani didn’t immediately answer, her eyes cold behind the shades. But he could see the flicker of something behind them—maybe curiosity, maybe something more.
“I’m proud of you, Jey,” she finally said, her voice betraying no emotion, just words. “But I’m not here for us. I’m here for her,” she gestured to Sade who was still jumping around.
Jey’s chest tightened. “I get it.” He wasn’t expecting forgiveness. Not now, not yet. But it hurt all the same. “But I’m here, I’m ready. For you. For her. I’m a different man now.”
Imani didn’t respond, just tilted her head a little as she pulled her phone back into her hands.
It was like she didn’t even care about the glow he had right now. Or maybe she just couldn’t see it—couldn’t see him.
Later:
Jey and Sade left the arena that night with his team, the win still fresh, but the silence between him and Imani echoing in his chest. He had thought this moment, this victory, would feel like redemption.
But instead, it felt like just another fight he had to win—one that wasn’t over yet.
She was still walking her own path. And while he had earned the title, the spotlight, the applause—none of it mattered unless she looked his way.
And for the first time, Jey realized the hard truth. The battle wasn’t just in the ring. It was with himself. It was winning back her.
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How Black women shaped Tim Walz’s politics after the death of George Floyd
From inside Minnesota’s executive mansion, Gov. Tim Walz could hear the grieving woman’s bellows..

Toshira Garraway’s voice quavered as she spoke to the hundreds gathered outside the residence in St. Paul. It was a sunny Monday in June 2020, just days after George Floyd had been murdered in Minneapolis.
Protesters across the world had been shouting Floyd’s name, but Garraway and other speakers — almost all Black women — were invoking the names of men who hadn’t garnered as much attention after they died in encounters with Minnesota law enforcement. Hardel. Kobe. Justin.
The lifeless body of Justin Teigen, Garraway’s boyfriend, had been found in a recycling bin in 2009. Police had said they were chasing Teigen and lost track of him when he hid in a dumpster, where he remained when the trash was compacted. Garraway was convinced police had killed him.
“They didn’t throw him in the river! They didn’t throw him in the woods!” Garraway shouted. “They threw him in the trash! That’s what they think of our people.”
“I could hear her pain,” Walz recalled in a 2021 interview with a Washington Post reporter. Walz, who is now the Democratic nominee for vice president, stepped outside the residence for a closer listen.
When Garraway heard that Walz had joined the crowd, she stepped away from the microphone to meet him. She asked for his cellphone number.
“I had been calling and writing the governor and attorney general for years,” she recalled telling him. “I want you to meet with our families.”
He promised he would.
At the most critical juncture in Walz’s tenure as governor, with the world pointing to his state as an example of gross injustice, he found insights and counsel from Garraway and a group of Black women who pleaded with him to do more to address systemic racism.
This story is based on years of interviews with Walz and those women, starting 11 months after Floyd’s death as part of research for a book on Floyd’s life and legacy.
Walz’s last interview was in May, two months before he was selected as the running mate of Vice President Kamala Harris, the first woman of color to be the Democratic nominee for president. During the discussions, Walz offered the most expansive, personal accounts he has ever provided about how Floyd’s murder changed his worldview — and about the women who helped shape it.
The women cried with him, prodded him, prayed with him. They admired his ability to listen without interrupting them, and appreciated the get-well cards he sent when they were sick. When it comes to supporting a Black woman who is already facing racist attacks in her bid for the presidency, they think Walz is ready.
But even more than his empathy, the women relished the opportunity to help Walz craft legislation that specifically addressed their concerns. That’s when the relationship became more difficult.
“He makes political calculations in terms of where he’s going to put his energy and spend down political capital, which any responsible person or elected official will do,” said Nekima Levy Armstrong, a former head of the Minneapolis chapter of the NAACP. “But because of his nature, you always have in the back of your mind that he will go the extra mile. … That’s when you get disappointed.”
Beyond Walz’s reputation as a folksy liberal, likely to be on display when he speaks Wednesday at the Democratic National Convention, the women saw a politician trying to navigate uncertain terrain. The national zest for police reform would eventually slow, and Walz’s national profile would begin to soar. And now, some in the group say he has lost interest in them.
Walz declined to comment for this article, but a spokeswoman wrote that Walz “deeply values the friendships, what he’s been able to learn from them, and the reforms they worked together to pass. He continues to meet with them and looks forward to their continued work together to improve Minnesota.”
Garraway has not heard from Walz in more than a year. When friends started texting about his becoming Harris’s running mate, she didn’t fully know what to say.
“I don’t want to bash the man, but all I can do is speak from my heart, and I’m conflicted,” Garraway said. “I cannot say that empathy was not there. But, as time went on and this was no longer the headlining topic, we became less and less important. Our families are pushed to the side and, basically, ignored. It is painful and hurtful.”

Philando Castile's mother, Valerie, holds flowers during a demonstration outside the governor's home in St. Paul on July 7, 2016.
Before Floyd’s death, Walz had been warned about the insidious threat of racism in Minnesota.
The prediction came from Valerie Castile, whose son Philando had been shot and killed at a traffic stop in a suburb of St. Paul in 2016. “Mark my word, if it keeps on going in this direction, something really bad is going to happen,” Castile recalled telling him.
“That was back in 2017,” she said.
At the time, Walz was serving in Congress and preparing a bid for governor. She told him she had dedicated her life to finding a way to bring honor to her son’s name. She spoke about Philando’s generous spirit — the school cafeteria worker would dig into his own pocket to help a student who couldn’t afford lunch.
And then, Castile quizzed Walz on why he thought Black people disproportionately die at the hands of police.
“I’m going to be brutally honest with you,” Castile recalled telling him. “We know it’s a racist factor that’s the underlying problem within law enforcement.”
The two formed a tight bond, calling themselves “friends.” Walz said her honesty showed him how “the basic joys of life are always clouded by” racism, and illuminated “the day-to-day, year-after-year systemic issues and microaggressions that people endure.”
“It just permeates everything,” he told The Post.
Walz, who grew up in Nebraska and moved to rural Minnesota as an adult, said he knew he had a blind spot when it came to the Black experience, “being a middle-aged White guy [from] a town of 300 … with no people of color.” In Minnesota, where only 7 percent of the population is Black, politicians often note how easy it can be to miss the struggles of the African American community. So many of the state’s bragging points — its high incomes, its healthy residents, its high-performing students — disguise some of the country’s widest disparities in wealth, life expectancy and education between Blacks and Whites.
After Walz became governor in 2019, Black lawmakers and activists said, he and his wife engaged with Black communities immediately. Walz said that they were eager to learn — and that they were surprised by what they discovered.
During one event, a Black woman told him she had moved to Duluth from Arkansas. Compared with racism in the Deep South, she said, she found Minnesota’s to be “quieter — but meaner.”
On another occasion, Levy Armstrong, the former NAACP official, told him that state lawmakers had a history of “admiring the problem” — acknowledging that disparities existed but not working hard enough to eradicate them.
Then a police officer knelt on Floyd’s neck in May 2020.
As video of the brutal incident spread, Walz reached out to Castile.
“What do you think they’re going to do?” she recalled Walz asking her.
“You better get ready,” Castile said. “They’re about to tear this motherf---er up.”
Castile was right. Although most of the protests were peaceful, large businesses were looted, windows were smashed and a police station was set aflame.
Not long afterward, the Floyd family asked Walz to remove the county attorney from the investigation of the killing. Walz agreed to assign Keith Ellison, the state’s attorney general, who had a history of working against police brutality. Walz told The Post that he was thinking of Castile when he made the decision.
“She was adamant, and groups of folks who had talked to me even before George Floyd [died] believed that we needed to have an independent prosecutor’s office,” Walz said. “That there’s just too close a connection between the police and the county attorneys.”

Walz, center, joins protesters in front of the Minnesota Governor's Residence on June 1, 2020, after the murder of George Floyd.
A few weeks after Walz spoke with the Floyds, he met with Garraway and the other women on a Zoom call.
Garraway spoke again about her boyfriend, referring to his death as the “2009 version of Emmett Till.”
The police account of the events had always seemed fantastical to her. But in 2009, there were no body cameras or Black Lives Matter movement — and few people took her seriously. After three years, only one lawyer said he would be interested in taking the case. By then, it was too late — the state had a three-year statute of limitations for investigating officers.
Amity Dimock told Walz the story of her autistic son, Kobe Dimock-Heisler, who was killed in 2019 by police during a wellness check. Police said Kobe had lunged at them with a knife, but Amity said she believed the officers reacted so quickly because they were ill-equipped to deal with mental illness.
Del Shea Perry spoke of her son Hardel Sherrell, who died in a jail cell in 2018. Officers ignored Sherrell when he said he wasn’t feeling well. Security camera footage over eight days captured him falling hard off a bed, going limp and dying in a pool of his own waste, never receiving medical attention.
As the women recounted their pain, Walz’s eyes welled with tears. He told The Post that he, like many in the state, needed to do more soul-searching on why it was so easy to look past the trauma of racism that Castile assured him existed.
“This is a great state if you’re White, not so much if you’re not,” Walz later recalled thinking. “And that pains me, but it has to be said. And it’s the truth.”

Amity Dimock, right, is comforted by another woman during a demonstration outside the Governor's Residence on June 6, 2020.
After the conversations with the women, Walz said he went back to his staff and asked, “What can we do? What can we change?”
They encouraged the women to work with racial justice organizations to craft legislation, and by 2021, more than a dozen police reform bills had been introduced. Some followed national trends. They asked for the state legislature to limit the use of chokeholds and no-knock warrants. They asked that the state allow police officers to be sued directly for actions taken in the line of duty, ending a practice known as “qualified immunity” that shielded them.
Other bills were directly inspired by the women’s stories. One would have ended the statute of limitations for wrongful-death suits related to police killings — potentially giving Garraway the chance to find out what had happened to Justin. Another would have referred 911 calls to mental health crisis teams when appropriate — which Dimock thought could have saved Kobe’s life. A third would have mandated wellness checks in jails — which could have led to an intervention for Hardel.
The women set out for the State Capitol to lobby lawmakers, but struggled to gain traction. About a year after Floyd’s death, conservatives were nervous that such measures might deplete the morale of police departments, which were losing officers.
“After Minneapolis started burning, the Republicans immediately went to blaming Governor Walz and Mayor [Jacob] Frey, and [saying] the Democrats will let the city burn down,” said Jeffrey Hayden, who was a Democratic state senator. Hayden said Republicans appeared hesitant to act, arguing that Floyd’s death had been “an isolated incident.”
The women said they found it difficult to find advocates even among rural Democrats, who they said would stare at them with blank faces. They asked the governor to leverage his authority, and he tried at first. He threatened to keep the legislative session open until lawmakers passed police reform, and he negotiated with Republicans, who were in control of the state’s House.

Del Shea Perry cries as she marches with demonstrators near the Governor's Residence on June 6, 2020. Beside her is a photo of son Hardel Sherrell.
The legislature agreed to pass a bill in honor of Sharell, to make changes to police training and to limit the use of chokeholds. Walz used executive action to add $15 million for violence-prevention programs, and then required that police provide body-camera footage to families within five days of incidents involving a death. But the legislature rejected the toughest measures, such as strengthening civilian oversight of police departments and ending qualified immunity.
And the measure to lift the statute of limitations also failed, meaning there would be no chance to get to the truth of what happened to Garraway’s boyfriend.
On the last day of the session, Garraway and the other women held a news conference. She pleaded with her new friend, the governor, to try to do more.
“You listen to our stories. You watch us break down. You watch us cry,” she said. “How can you make a deal to say this is okay?”
A few months after the legislation failed, Walz put his disappointment plainly: “I feel like I failed Toshira.”
Walz told The Post back then that he had learned that White men like him wanted to probe the details while Black women like Garraway sought swift action because the lives of their families were at stake.
“This is a complex issue. It’s nuanced,” Walz said. “But in the midst of this are people who say, ‘I don’t have time for nuance.’”
He wondered if the country needed a truth and reconciliation commission — like the one in post-apartheid South Africa — that would allow people to truly listen to the stories of pain and exploitation he had heard.
After the 2021 legislative session, Walz said he felt the chance to have an honest conversation about racism in America — and then work to fix it — had probably passed him by. He worried that, between the pandemic, the protests and the unraveling of the great American reckoning on race, the country was not “healing.”
“I don’t know if we’ll get another shot at it,” Walz said. “I’m worried about this. … I’m worried [about what] I’m seeing at the national level. I’m seeing our democracy under threat, and I’m seeing the community here that’s losing faith.”
Back then, he also recognized how not addressing the problem would mar his political legacy.
“One way or another, I will be associated with this,” Walz said.

Valerie Castile speaks at a Minneapolis rally on June 16, 2023, after the release of a U.S. Justice Department investigation into the Minneapolis Police Department.
Valerie Castile had not lost faith.
After a jury in 2017 acquitted the police officer who killed Philando, she spent years seeking another route to honor her son’s legacy.
She started a foundation to clear the balances of grade-school students who couldn’t afford to pay for school meals, then began pushing the state legislature to make breakfast and lunch free for all students. In 2023, with a Democratic majority in all three chambers, the bill passed.
It became one of Walz’s signature pieces of legislation, and the photo of children hugging him after he signed the bill has become an indelible political image. Watching proudly in the back that day was Castile.
“Oh my God, we finally did it,” Castile remembered thinking. “Congratulations, Phil.”
After the police reform bills were rejected, Walz tried other routes to deal with racial disparities, at the behest of Democrats eager to avoid bills that could be deemed as anti-police.
Walz worked with lawmakers in 2023 to invest more than $70 million in workforce training for manufacturing and tech jobs. After the NAACP filed a lawsuit alleging that the child-welfare system disproportionately separated Black families, they approved proactive steps to keep families together. They passed laws barring discrimination based on hairstyles and establishing an office to investigate suspicious deaths of Black women that have become cold cases.
In May 2024, Walz told The Post that these policies have helped to close some of the state’s racial gaps. For example, the median household income for Black Minnesotans has jumped 70 percent since 2011, the seventh-fastest growth rate in the country, according to the state’s Department of Employment and Economic Development.
“We’ve stopped admiring the problem,” Walz said in the interview. “We’ve learned not to do the Minnesota thing, which is to look at disparities, say ‘Oh that’s too bad,’ then go and eat pie.”
He also said he was wrong to wonder if the country might have missed its chance to eradicate racism.
“That was a part of my trauma speaking,” Walz said.
The women he met in 2020, though, still wonder if they will ever experience any relief from their trauma, a smidgen of which Castile felt when Walz signed the school meals bill. They accuse Walz of giving up on police reform too quickly. Perry, whose son died in the jail cell, continued trying to persuade Walz that they needed to do more work. In 2018, when Hardel Sherrell died, there were nine other deaths at county jails, state data shows. Last year, there were 20 deaths.
Her phone calls, though, were being returned much more infrequently. Perry’s advocacy didn’t even get a hearing during the last legislative session. When she met Walz earlier this year, he asked if she had been in touch with the Rev. Al Sharpton. Maybe some national attention would help, he suggested.
“Maybe he should call him,” Perry told The Post. “He knows him. I don’t. I’m a grieving mother.”
Still racked with pain, Garraway said there are bigger matters on her mind than Walz’s potential vice presidency.
When county prosecutors decided in June to drop their case against a state trooper who killed a Black man named Ricky Cobb II during a traffic stop, she called Walz to see if she could get answers from a man she thought she understood. Walz had supported dropping the charges, saying it would be impossible to prove that the officer used excessive force.
But after introducing Walz to so many grieving families, Garraway was desperate to know why he could side with the police in this case. She trusted his judgment. So after his big speech accepting the nomination and all the balloons and the pageantry of the Democratic convention, she hopes he’ll answer her calls again. She longs to hear his voice.
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