#my header is just because i thought it sounded good and relatable

[stalkiwi]

Wym '' life used to be simple'' are you okay???

nah. life sucks bro. those moving png on my screen are all that keeps me alive. dont fall at my level. 'tis my last advice

[cloud9gojo]

salt & the sea

consider this a one-shot for now, i really just wanted to get this prologue style chapter for my self-infsert suguru fic out there it was eating me alive. this is so on a whim, i don't have a header, nor do i expect anyone to actually read this lol. if you do like it, hmu @peachygf

pairing: geto x f!reader if we ever make it there

words: 4.2k

warnings: sfw they're kids bro, sign language, synesthesia, kid awkwardness, me being awkward, there ya go

also made a playlist for this but it's on apple music 😭 lmk if you're into that and i can convert it or smth

______________________________________________________________

December 1997

The morning of December 27th in the Inumaki household was chaotic.

Some months prior, it was decided that the disgraced, elder Inumaki son, Miharu, and his family would be offered redemption through certain means. During July, in the southern part of Japan, a sorcerer with the potential to become a special grade was discovered. They had no family lineage and the powers-that-be would have your family introduce them to jujutsu society. The order had been passed down that they would train alongside the son's eldest child, in both theory and practical study, until they attended Jujutsu High at fourteen years of age. That is if they survived that long.

So when your parents sit you down and make you promise to be on your best behavior, to not antagonize, make fun of, or laugh at your guests or there would be consequences, dirty dishwater-related consequences, you say yes. You promise them you will be good, nice, and welcoming.

At first, it was easy because it was exciting! Everyone (except Akari, who was drooling in her crib) was bustling with frantic energy, cleaning, and then going over the entire house. Making sure everything was in its place; flowers in the foyer, record playing in the living room, new sake ready to be opened on the counter. You even tolerated your little sister's incessant babbling and following afternoon tantrums with a great attitude. Granted, you couldn't hear her cries at full volume, but still, you were a good sport about the whole thing. You were more focused on the idea of training with another sorcerer your age and what gifts your parents might bring back from their visit to Jujutsu High in Tokyo next month. It was going to be a good new year.

When your guests arrived, your family had arranged themselves at your home's entrance. A poised, respectable sorcerer family welcoming a newly awakened sorcerer and their parents. Who you knew from peaking at your parents' signing during movie night, were normal humans, not a trace of cursed energy on them. (Your parents should really be more careful where they sign.)

Greeting the couple was nice and normal enough, you were bright and of course, the perfect host. You interpreted for your parents perfectly, like you had been doing for the majority of your life, "The Inumaki's are honored to be coordinating your child's sorcerer training."

"The honor is ours, thank you for allowing us into your home. Why, it's so beautiful!" Mrs. Geto's voice was soft to your ears, but the color of it radiated a light pink that settled neatly in the air around her. Her smile was sly, but inviting. She reminded you of a fox, especially with the way her updo gave her two bumps on her head that looked like little ears. You pursed your mouth to match hers and decided to keep that happy little thought to yourself.

You spared a glance at their son who had at first sight seemed ordinary like you. His bow was short and curt, his name lost to your wooden flooring. Only when prompted by his mother did he repeat it, "Geto Suguru. Pleased to meet you." The sound waves around him bent the light strangely, making the shadows curl around him even though the foyer was well-lit.

His voice sent a shiver down your spine, soft like his mother's but not at all like the soft pink she gave off. The color of his voice was deep indigo and unnerving. The waves refused to settle, creating a dark corona around the boy. It had you straightening your back, setting your shoulders up, back, and then down at attention.

"Inumaki. Pleased to meet you." Your bow wasn't as low as it should have been, but you had your eyes trained on him, making sure you saw every single movement.

The Getos, you're sure, were impressed with you either way. Especially with how grown up you were for a child your age (it's what every other adult seemed to say after meeting you). It was only natural, you were a jujutsu sorcerer after all. Or at least on your way to being a first-grade one. Right now though, all you were was a seven-year-old being told to make nice with some stranger.

"Go play, try to be friendly. You're going to be spending more time together soon." Your father's usually composed signing was rushed as he ushered you both through the backdoor and hurried to get back to where your guests were seated in the living room. His anxiety was visible, he had been going on and on about this day for a month straight. Finally, he would be respected again. (Or something like that, you tried not to peer in on your parents' private conversations in their bedroom. Most of the time.)

You were pretty sure he was happier to share his special sake and show off his vintage record collection than to talk about jujutsu society, those poor, poor people. They would have to get by on pen-and-paper conversations and charades with your tipsy parents while you were exiled outside with their son.

Alarm bells start ringing in your head finally being alone with him. He was just a little kid like you, all knobby knees and awkward limbs, but you could tell he was powerful. You don't know whether to run from him or fight him. You struggle, momentarily stuck to your spot, but ultimately decide against fighting. You would be going in blind and set a bad first impression.

Both of you stand apart, facing out into your backyard. A small garden that your mother keeps up is in the center, while the rest grows tall and wild around an old patio set towards the far right corner. A desire path is starting to form along the edges from your many trips back and forth from the beach that was just beyond the green belt of tall grasses at the end of your property. You let your eyes trace it as you chew on your lip, considering how to befriend this boy beside you.

You don't know what he can do exactly, only seeing your parents discuss it once in passing; Cursed Manipulation. What things he could manipulate was a mystery, all you knew was that you didn't want it to be you. Your mind screamed danger! but you had to get to know this strange boy, now that you were going to start training with him in the new year. After your eighth birthday, so you could still have time with your family before getting serious.

You pout and think of how your father had made you promise to be nice this morning. But you didn't feel like playing outside with this weird, jittery kid now! You wanted to cry, it was either this or dish duty for a month and you would rather die than touch nasty dishwater. So you make down the steps into the yard two at a time, in a huff, only partially caring if Geto follows you or not. (He does, with his hands in his pockets, taking his sweet time.)

Walking into the garden, you watch the air ripple with little bursts of color in every step. When you reach the patio set, you plop down facing the tall grasses at the back. It gives you a view of the sunset peaking through the blades, pale yellow into a muted blue sky.

Geto wiggles his chair out from under the table and positions it to face the same way as yours. He all but falls backward into it, releasing a long sigh when he settles. You sneak a peek at him from the corner of your eye. He's slouching so much, you're surprised he's still on the cushion, but he looks content to be watching the sky. You turn to watch little bugs flitter through the evening air. The beating hum of their wings gave off tiny warm yellow waves. At least they were a nice distraction from your present company.

"So, are you going to tell me your name?"

His voice almost makes you jump out of your seat. When you face him, he has his cocked to the side, a bored expression on his face. You masterfully pull yours into a kind expression, no dirty dishes for you. "Inumaki, remember?" You say it sweetly, to make up for the fact that it's not the answer he's looking for. You're not dumb, you know what he's asking you, but you don't want him to know your first name. Not yet, at least.

Geto scowls before turning away from you once again.

You sigh in frustration, you had been looking forward to having a friend, someone like you who wasn't three, stinky, and drooling. (Sorry to your sister, but she was just not very fun right now.) You were fighting an uphill battle of social awkwardness with Suguru Geto and losing. You weren't used to failing, ever. If this is how it's going to be between you both, then what would training look like in the spring?

Your parents believe you're being a good host, so that's some good-daughter points for you. Ugh, but if you don't try, then nothing is going to change between you both and you'll be stuck with your stinky sister your whole life. Yuck! You conclude that you can't rely on him to make the first move. You're the host, you make the conversation. It doesn't mean that Suguru Geto is going to be your best friend, but maybe you can get a powerful ally out of him. You perk up in your seat, yeah, you could make that work!

Working together with other sorcerers is important long term, if you're going to persevere in and preserve the jujutsu world. Maybe, if you tell him about when you first got your cursed technique, it'll make him feel more comfortable.

The thing is, you don’t really remember when your technique manifested.

You remember the heat and stickiness of the day. It must have been late summer, in the rainy season. A rare sunny day, no clouds in sight, spent at the park near your home. Your very pregnant mother sitting down watching you, laughing along with your high-pitched giggles. The red of the picnic table was a streak in your vision as you flew through the air on the swings, pushed higher and higher by your father. Silent, wearing a mask to cover his clan markings, but happy.

It was so, so hot that day, and the humidity had turned your hair into a frizzy mess. Sweat caused it and your clothes to stick to you uncomfortably, but you didn’t care. The sky was so blue and clear, and the air so crisp. You could see the expanse of the horizon at the top of your swing and the urge to jump was too great, you were weightless when you threw yourself from the seat.

You remember how the sky burst into color halfway down, how everything thrummed with color and strange vibrations. It was so pretty that you screamed with joy at the sight of sound waves emanating from everything. It was exactly how your mother described how she saw the world through her technique. The overload of visual information then clouded over the fact that everything was quieter. Like the volume set at full was dialed down quicker than your little brain could register.

You were only four or five when that happened. Suguru Geto, seven, is a late bloomer by jujutsu standards. The thought makes you want to laugh, but you hold it in and then calmly release it as a breath of air. Whew, that was close.

The evening was turning into night and the wind was cold against your arms causing goosebumps. Pieces of your hair were flying around your face, getting caught in your glasses and mouth. You sputter and push it back behind your ears for the hundredth time, even now it refuses to stay in place. You notice the indigo of Geto's sneaky giggles more than you can hear them.

"Are you laughing at me?" Geto, looking unashamed about being caught, meets your eyes only once before turning to watch the swaying grasses. You frown and follow his gaze, yup, still grass and sky. Beyond that was the color of the distant sound waves from the water crashing against the sand, although you know Geto can't see them like you could. You turn to face him once more, wishing he would at least try to keep eye contact with you. Or make conversation. Or do anything besides stare at stupid beach grass!

"You sound kinda funny." He tells you this very casually, like it's not the first thing he's said that wasn't a greeting or a question.

You blink at him, incredulous. "I don't get to use my voice that often." You're fully facing him now, bracing yourself on the patio chair's arm.

"Is it because your parents use their hands to talk?"

Did he really just ask you that?

"Yes."

"Oh."

Be nice, be nice, be nice. "My father can't speak because of his technique and my mother and I have some hearing loss from our own so it just makes sense for us to use sign," you manage, after a lengthy pause.

“Oh.” 

He’s still not facing you, have you done something wrong that you missed? Your family wasn’t exactly the most social, maybe it was you. Were you the one being weird? You can’t tell if he's being mean or not, but you also don't know why he would be mean to you in the first place so maybe you're overthinking it. You've never made a friend before, but surely it can't be this hard.

"When you see curses, are you afraid of them?" When he says it he doesn't face you so you have to read his lips to make out the parts you miss.

You take a moment to mull it over. "No, I already know some defensive techniques so I think I could protect myself. Low-level ones I feel like I could kill easily." You smile at that, remembering how your parents said your barrier technique was very strong for your age. It made you happy that you had a sound-related technique like your mom. You liked being like her, strong and beautiful, but also kind. (You were still working on that last part.)

"What about the stronger ones? Would you run or fight?" This time when he says it, Geto's gaze is so steady, you couldn't escape it if you wanted to. His pale face was open and honest.

"I'd fight." You try to keep your face earnest and keep eye contact, you want him to know you're being truthful. When you focus on them, his eyes are a dark amber framed by straight, long eyelashes. (Annoying, how boys always got pretty lashes without even having to try.)

Geto presses his lips into a thin line before casting his eyes back to the horizon past the grass. "I'd run."

You giggle at that, trying to imagine this string bean of a boy running from some scary curse. "I guess we'll have to work on that when we see each other again in the new year. Right?" You smile when he looks back at you. If you relax and keep making conversation, then training will go well the next time you meet. Having him warm up to you also means a boost to your strength, in the end.

Which means you have to be good at this making friends thing. You want to be good at it, for your parents who rely on you to carry on their legacy. For your sister, who will look up to you as you both get older. And for this new kid, who has no one else in his family like him. Who was assigned to the closest sorcerer family available so that he's prepared for jujutsu society—your family. Maybe, you think, you could be good for him and whip him into shape by the time you both attend Jujutsu High and start taking missions.

He blinks a few too many times before slouching even more than you thought possible, (looking at his posture was making your neck ache) and giving you a small, "Sure."

Another beat of silence, and you think he's going to let this one stretch out before he asks another question. "So why can't your dad talk?"

You laugh at his bold line of questioning this time, "My dad comes from a long line of cursed speech users. That's why his mouth has those little markings, even though they're a little faded. They're the symbol of our family, the Inumakis." You decide not to tell Geto why your father's marks are faded or why he jumped at the opportunity to sponsor him. That's all stressful, adult stuff.

"And your mom? She can talk, but doesn't?" Geto arches his eyebrow at you and you wonder, does he know that it lets you know he's asking a question? He's already good at nonverbal communication, you don't have to think too hard about what he means when he's facing you.

You shake your head and lift yourself up from your seat with great effort, ready to head back towards your house. "My mom and I can talk, but it's easier when we can all just sign what we mean, together." It's a simple explanation, you hope he accepts it.

Geto pulls himself from his seat to follow you, this time side by side. "What's her technique like?"

You suck air into your cheeks, making a big show of contemplating your answer. "My mother has control over sound and pressure waves at the molecular level." You take your time sounding out the complicated words, you don't actually know what pressure, let alone molecular means. "She can create barriers with sound the same way I can. We can also see the sound waves in the air. My brain is so used to it though that I don't even focus on that anymore. Like when your brain ignores your nose, you know?" You crinkle your nose at him, twitching the tip of it like a bunny. It makes him laugh and you smile, you like the color of it much more than normal conversation. "But because we can see all that stuff, our hearing isn't as strong as other peoples. It doesn't feel any different though, I don't remember a time before it."

You've never had to say all these big words out loud before, you catch Geto laughing at the way you're pronouncing some of them. You tut disapprovingly at him but laugh with him also. You probably do sound a little funny.

He hums and swings his hands back and forth, the effort making his t-shirt sway on his frame like a big pillowcase. "Is it only barriers you can make with sound?"

You hum, thoughtful. "I haven't really tried anything else, but that's why I'm excited to train with you in the spring!"

"Is that what you think we'll be working on when we see each other next?"

You focus on the way he shapes his vowels, how they stretch and flow, before looking back at his eyes. "Mmm, probably not. My dad will make us start with the basics of cursed energy and breathing techniques. Prepare for lots of meditating, my dad loves to put on his jazz music every morning for stretches and quiet time, it's awful. Let's see what else..." You tap your chin, thinking. "Then we might move on to basic fighting forms, which I've barely gotten to practice." You see the familiar notes of your father's records seep from the house as you get closer to the steps of your porch. When you reach them, you each take a seat next to each other.

Geto smiles at you, like his mother it's sly, but more smug than anything. More music escapes into the air behind him as faint swirls of color. Pretty, you think. "I'm already pretty good at fighting, I take after-school lessons. Or, at least I used to." His brow furrows at that last sentence. Suddenly displeased, he turns to stare at the ants crossing near your feet.

You note the shift with a frown. You've never been to a regular school, you've been taught by your mom and dad your whole life. Math, science, reading, all that boring stuff. You've never experienced public school, so you don't know exactly what it is that Geto might miss.

This is an exciting opportunity for you and your family, something you were looking forward to and happy about. Getting to introduce someone to jujutsu society is a great honor, but it doesn't seem like that's how it is for Geto. You lean forward to try and catch his eyes again. "Are you going to miss it?"

He eyes you from behind his dark hair, debating his answer. "I'm going to miss my teacher and my friends. I thought we would all be together until high school or something like that." He closes his eyes and takes a breath. You see his lip shake more than you can hear the quiver in his voice. "I didn't ask to be a sorcerer."

Something hard has formed in your throat watching this boy you were just laughing with almost cry in front of you. You force it down and take a moment to think about what it was like moments after your technique manifested. Chaotic, too bright all at once, and then quiet. You definitely started crying at some point after your joy turned to fear. But your parents had never hid their culture from you, so curses and cursed energy weren't anything new. It was more overwhelming than scary.

Before you can try to comfort Geto, the backdoor slides open and a flurry of color fills your vision. Your mother stands in the doorway, jovial and laughing until seeing Geto's expression.

"What's going on?" She steps forward, displeased.

You jump up to try and rectify the situation. "We were just talking about his school!"

Your mother purses her lips and looks between you both now that Geto is standing on the step above you. "We'll discuss this later. Come inside and say goodbye."

You whine and hang your head in defeat knowing you can't sway your mother. "Yes, ma'am."

You look at Geto and motion for him to go inside first. "Mom says that they're finished. Let's go."

You suck in your lip, chewing on your unspoken words, and trudge into the house behind him. You watch the trail of indigo his footsteps leave behind, he must scuff his feet along the floor. Something pangs in your chest, you don't want him to leave you sad or mad at you. Before that mess about school, you started to get along.

Before he can get too far away from you, you reach out to tug on his shirt. "Geto, wait."

His hands are in his pockets and he's slouching so much you're surprised he's still upright, but he gazes you over his shoulder with an arched brow, a silent acknowledgment.

You drop your hand back to your side, letting go of his shirt. "I just wanted to say that I'm looking forward to seeing you. Next time, you know? This is all new for me, I've never trained with anyone my age so I want this to go well. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings asking about your school." You cringe at how it all spills out. Much too fast and eager, you're not used to speaking out loud so much. But, it gets him to turn fully towards you before entering the foyer.

"I know, Inumaki-san. I'm happy to be training with you too, but leaving my friends and everything else behind isn't easy. Not for me, anyway."

You stare back at him, wanting to comfort him all over again, but all that comes out is, "Okay." You want to smack yourself, you are so lame.

For some reason, he lets a hint of a smile come over his face. "Okay." He nods before continuing, "I'll see you in the new year." 

With that, both of you enter the foyer to be with your parents. You skip past Geto so you can be by your parents' side to interpret their goodbyes. You preen as your father smooths your hair back with his hand. Its warm familiar weight settles on your shoulder. You did a good job tonight, making Geto feel welcome to the best of your ability. However socially awkward you were, you got him to have a solid conversation with you. Next time will be even better.

The three of you walk them out and down the steps of your home. It's later than you thought it was and you're starting to get sleepy. You return Geto's little wave through the glass window of his parents' car.

When you get back inside, you make your parents wait with you until you see the lights of the Geto's car fade from view before you turn off the porch lights. Your father carries you to bed, and your mother tucks you in and sings you a lullaby. Your sister is already asleep in her bed next to yours. It was a good night, you think before letting your heavy eyelids rest.

When you finally drift off into sleep, your dreams are full of inky indigos and soft pink clouds, with little foxes jumping between their misty hiding spots while you giggle watching them.

[darksideofthemamon]

I got tagged by @radellama ! Thanks, Rads!

1. why did you choose your url?

I thought it sounded catchy ^^" I'm honestly not good at thinking about these things. Titles too.

2. any sideblogs? if you have them name them and why you have them.

I have 3!

@janusofguardia for my Chrono Trigger AU (Janus gets taken in by Guardia instead of the Mystics)

@lila-chantilly for my Kingdom Hearts OC/s

@the-journey-was-the-point for all Tolkiem-related things, including OC's and LOTRO!

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

Uhh 5 years? I only started in 2019 ^^" I wasn't here for its heyday

4. do you have a queue tag?

No! I don't really queue, I only sometimes schedule posts for the timezone.

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

I wanted to post my art and interact with fandoms! I ended up being active here the most because it's really fandom-centric, accommodates a lot of post types (art, long text posts, asks), and isn't subject to the same algorithms and commercialism the other social media sites are. It's much quieter here, and the only ones who stay are like-minded people, so I really like it. It's all about having a space to creatively express myself.

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

It's my KH OC! She has her arm in brace, and I recovered from an injury just last year, so I felt it represented my inner self.

7. why did you choose your header?

I wanted to show off my best works XD

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

Fanart of Asami Sato from Legend of Korra!

9. how many mutuals do you have?

Uhhh I don't know how to count that... I'm gonna guess 10-15????

10. how many followers do you have?

89!

11. how many people do you follow?

311!

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

Hmm I think I sort of did? It's a joke on the ending of KHUX, and one of the few times I've drawn Eraqus

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

Often! I check it all the time, honestly ^^"

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

Nope! And anyway I'd be happy to block.

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts

b y e

16. do you like tag games?

Yeah!

17. do you like ask games?

Yeah, I also sometimes reblog prompts in my sideblogs!

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Hmmm I'm not sure if any are? @_@

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

Nope!

20. tags

ok so no pressure obviously!

@undeadrabbit-reblogs @loremastering @angbands-last-hero @tambermizukiart @chirithy564 @saephrond @lanthanum12

and whoever else wants!

[ugly-anastasia]

Thursday, November 16 – Character #Inspo: Find five existing fictional characters who remind you of your character (or who inspired your character). Post two pieces of inspiration from each character (A gif, a quote, a video clip, a screenshot) and write a little bit about how that character relates to your own.

someth wrong with her <3 an annie manifesto

(spoilers for Glass Onion, Such a Fun Age, Yellowjackets, Succession, and The White Lotus below)

It's no secret that I love unhinged women like this is barely scratching the surface of my favorite characters that inspire Annie but I tried to narrow it down for this.

Birdie Jay from Glass Onion

This is kind of a goofier one, but I loved this character in Glass Onion. I read something once about how Knives Out is about criticizing old money rich people and Glass Onion is about criticizing the new-money-hustle-culture-opportunist type of rich person. I think that's very true, and a lot of Glass Onion is about exposing the lie that these people have something very special and genius about them when in reality they are often employing a combination of luck, good looks, charisma, useful connections, and a willingness to screw people over at times.

Birdie is less sinister and more... kind of stupid. And while I do think Annie is very smart in her own way, she can be very ignorant about things that get her into a lot of trouble. I thought the "sweatshops" thing was hilarious and so Annie— a girlboss building an empire in the fashion space, but she doesn't even know what a sweatshop is. As for the header image, I thought that scene was very fitting as well! Like Annie, Birdie deals with criticism by telling herself this story that other people simply don't understand, that she's just misunderstood and someday they'll all see. I do think that Annie is misunderstood by her peers at times, but that doesn't excuse her behavior and it definitely doesn't make her a visionary lol.

2. Alix Chamberlain/Alex Murphy from Such a Fun Age

This is one of the characters who inspired Annie to begin with. (As a side note, I think it's wild that this book came out in 2019 and now in 2023 the influencer girlboss protagonist shares names with 2 Internet it girls of the 2020s lol). For those who haven't read it, the plot of this book is kind of complicated but it's basically about the misguided ways that white people often respond to racism and sometimes appropriate dialogues about race for their own ends which often undermines movements. It's also largely about hustle culture and liberal white feminism and so all of these things were percolating in my brain when I wrote Annie.

As you can see from the heading, the protagonist, Alix, who is the influencer girlboss in question, changes her name from Alex to Alix, and "Chamberlain" is her husband's last name when she gets married. This is part of what inspired me to have Annie go by Annie instead of Anastasia; Alix did this to try and seem more unique and sophisticated while Annie did it to try and sound more American.

I also wanted to address the quote I put in the header, which is more of a general thing about the character than a specific moment. Like Birdie, Alix is a character who tells herself a lot of stories to protect herself against criticism. In Alix's case, it's also about denying that she's harmed people, because even to herself she can't handle that guilt.

3. Misty Quigley from Yellowjackets

Misty <3 We're moving into real Unhinged Lady territory here. I actually got Jackie on that character quiz, which you would expect from a character who's kind of a queen bee, but I think what's important here is that Annie isn't a queen bee, she's just trying really hard to be. Misty is the prototypical nerd, but she fights her way into the spaces she wants to be in through sheer force of will. She doesn't play soccer, but she gets on the team by becoming the equipment manager. And in the wilderness, she makes herself indispensable through her medical knowledge.

I chose Misty's Citizen Detective moment because I thought it tied in with Annie's arc on the Squire, how both of them are nosy but it's mostly because they are lonely and want to be a part of something. I also wanted to highlight this moment because Annie can be quite aggressive and borderline violent sometimes lol and I think she gets a lot of joy out of "coaching" someone the way she sometimes gives Toby pep talks.

4. Siobhan "Shiv" Roy from Succession

Look you knew I was gonna talk about Shivvy didn't you? The scene I picked is from a really intense fight she's having with Tom, they're like literally on the verge of breaking up because due to complicated plot things Tom has betrayed Shiv and they just weren't talking about it but now they're finally airing all of it out there. And they get to the end and Shiv, who has been saying really horrible things to Tom, just breaks down and says, "Well, that's not a very nice thing to say, is it?" It's in response to Tom saying she wouldn't make a good mother.

And I think this moment is so Annie because she really does put on this tough girl energy, and once in a while she even fake cries to get what she wants, but deep down, she is just a sensitive, wounded person and if you hit her in the right place and at the right time she will break down. Which leads me also to point out episode 4.1 when she is scheduling breaks in her schedule to cry and insisting to her brothers that she is fine meanwhile her husband and father are conspiring against each other together to screw her over further if she goes through with divorcing Tom. Because she is that averse to show people her true feelings! And yet she cannot push them down forever!

5. Daphne Sullivan, The White Lotus

The thing I loved about the Sullivans is that when you meet them, you think they are just your typical vapid rich people, and then you realize they have an incredibly fucked-up relationship, and then you think maybe they're kind of onto something in a weird way (is that bad to say lol). Daphne continues this thread of the tough-girl-who's above-needing-love, and I think her weird little jealousy game with her husband is the perfect example of that.

But I also think, like the other examples, deep down under the surface of Daphne is a sad, romantic person who does want love, and I think in the iconic moment before she leads Will off to the cave where they ostensibly hook up, her heart does break to learn that her husband may have slept with Harper. Partially because Harper has betrayed her, but also partially because maybe she thought this time would be different. But she holds her tears in and gets her revenge, and that's kind of Annie's whole thing.

[idv-sunsxin3]

Hi Hi! I have a small Glamrock!Bonnie Request! I hope you don’t mind! Sorry if you’re request aren’t open!

What if Bonnie had a Crush / S/O who’s like the Puppet/Marionette & Ballora? Like, they can do shows from magic tricks from their box to ballet dancing! Have a good day/night/evening friend!!

Love,

~🎩🐇

Glamrock! Bonnie with a Glamrock Puppet-Ballora! S/O

Header’s art by FNAF Security Breach Official Game

{Headcanons/Scenarios}

Gender Neutral! S/O

Note// Oh yaaay- I REALLY LIKE THIS IDEA!!! Makes me want to draw something related to it,,, qwq🌸✨

___

Description of Puppet & Ballora! S/O

On stage mode, your voice box sounds like a music box as you do ballet. Of course, you speak normally enough for kids to understand! (You’re most likely will sound like Ballora but in a Rockstar Bonnie speech as the sound of music box is heard in you).

You can do two things besides serving cake for birthday kids! You are a ballerina in the day, and then a magician in the night!

Your schedule for birthday parties often changes since for example, some birthday boys want to see magic tricks in the morning or some birthday girls want ballet classes in the night.

The staff workers seem to find you as an important asset in the Fazbears entertainment company because of your abilities.

As a stage performer, you also have a green room. Unlike the Glamrocks, yours is a little bit bigger and spacious since you’re the only performer who dances as a part time job. You need enough room to practice!

The room would have the blue/purple color schemes and has a big box in the center with posters, balloons, and kid’s drawings neatly pinned on the walls. One side of the wall has a big mirror which is part of your dance practice area. While a chest full of magician tools are in the other side of the room.

You can freely roam around the pizzaplex, but there are times the staff manager prefers you to stay in your green room when your performance is about to start or there’s some lockdown drill, etc.

You’re quite opposite to Roxanne, as you don’t have a very good sight. You even sometimes get a little lost due to poor sense of direction…

Headcanons

At the first time he saw you, Bonnie was very friendly to you and felt eager to have a new friend in the pizzaplex!

He curiously saw the workers install your stage, he even found more workers filling furniture into an empty green room…

NEW FRIEND??? That’s what he was going to figure out-

As a reliable animatronic who obeys the manager and also because he doesn’t want to trespass boundaries to disrespect you, he patiently waits until you’re ready to be released.

It took a few months for him to realize that he’s taking a BIG liking to you,,,

It also make him have insecurities to confess, since he also thinks is just a crush; something that can temporarily appears and then leaves.

He admired your graceful movements you constantly show when walking, dancing, talk and play with children.

He likes the way you like to learn new things, seen your reactions as he teaches you how to play bowl amuses him… But he’s always kind and patient to help you!

It was a not-so-good idea to teach him ballet since he’s a giant and nearly broke the practice room’s mirror,,, x’3

But he’s a quick learner when you teach him and give him magic tips!

Whenever you catch him glancing your way, you always give him your famous closed-eyes smile and wave at him. Which would make him melt slowly,,,

Some kids would be curious enough to ask every animatronic about their thoughts and opinions on each other. When they ask you about Bonnie, you simply said:

“Bonnie? He’s a lovely gentleman and a nice partner to work with…! you have no idea how many times he helped me when I got lost in the pizzaplex since my first stroll around this place! I’m very grateful that I’ve met him…”

The kids eagerly told what you said to Bonnie, they got to see him freeze as electric fans can be heard from him by the overheating…

“What do you think of Y/N, Bonnie?

“Yeah, you seem to like them! We saw you talk to them very often! ;D”

“W-Well, kids! Y/N is an incredible fella! I look up for them since the time they stepped into the pizzaplex… They impress me with their magic tricks and I always look forward to see their next dance performances! Heh,,, It would be a terrible lie that I don’t like them…”

Other kids were mischievous enough to pair you two up, which pushes Bonnie on the verge to faint by embarrassment. X’D

Bonnie ended up confessing after months of getting to know you and spending time with you.

It was a little messy due to his nervousness, but you warmly accepted him anyway... 🥺💕

[saltydumplings]

First I want to send some appreciation for your header gif. I love it. I’m not quite sure what it is, but I love it. And second we’re gonna need a cont of snippet 9 pleaaaase. And thank you <3

Snippet #9.1

Part 1

Omg thank you! My header gif is Draco from A Very Potter Musical because Lauren Lopez is a queen and I love her. Also sorry this took a lil while - I had quite the busy week. <3

Cw: vomiting.

When the hero awoke it was to soft sheets and a warm bed. Their body felt completely numb - even opening their eyes was a struggle - but they managed a small movement after a while, some weak attempt at rolling over. They groaned as they gained more consciousness, suddenly aware of the massive headache that made them feel like their skull might just split in two. Not only that but their throat was dry and their stomach churned warningly, the hero fumbling to get up and onto their feet but standing too fast - a wave of dizziness hitting them before they could so much as take a step whilst their vision blacked out and they began to fall.

Strong arms wrapped around their waist and caught them. The hero found themself being pulled up again and slowly maneuvered forwards, the warm chest that was now pressed against their back giving them the balance they needed to walk.

Everything around them seemed hazy. The hero didn't recognise the room they were in, or the corridor that they were guided down a few seconds later - the sound of someone talking to them just barely distinguishable in their disorientated state. The first truly cognizant thought they had only came when they caught sight of a toilet, the hero surging forward and down within an instant - knees smacking audibly against the hard tile but they barely noticed as they proceeded to throw up the contents of their stomach.

It was horrible.

The hero had never felt so sick in their life - their skin was hot and sweaty, body shaking with the force of every heave and gag whilst tears streamed down their cheeks. The only small comfort they had was the soft caress of hands combing through their hair, their touch so gentle and cautious - like they feared the hero might break should they press too hard.

Minutes passed this way. Eventually the hero had nothing left to throw up though they still heaved, their body still trying to expel something that was no longer there. But after a while that stopped too, and the hero finally felt aware enough to have a thought that wasn't related to their urgent need to vomit. They blinked a couple of times, trying to clear the tears from their vision as they looked about, still confused as to where they were. Whoever had brought them here was still behind them, rubbing slow circles into their back.

"Better?"

They knew that voice, but they couldn't place it just yet. It was a good voice though - a safe one. That much they were sure of.

The hero's eyes wandered over towards the sink and they reached out for it, the person helping them stand so they could rinse out their mouth - desperate to get rid of the horrible taste that lingered there. When they were finally content they looked up, catching a glimpse of their own pale reflection before focusing on the figure behind them.

"Villain?" The name came out in a rush of breath, the hero more confused now than before.

What had happened to them? How did they get here?

"You scared me for a second there," the villain said.

More questions entered the hero's mind - millions of thoughts and fears all racing around their head - and yet the first thing they asked was: "Did you move?"

The villain let out a short huff of breath, though it was more like a sigh of relief than a laugh. Their hands gripped the hero a little tighter, still intent on holding them steady as they spoke.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did," they said. Then they paused, eyes shining with concern as they looked down at the hero. "Do you remember what happened?"

The hero shook their head, still feeling somewhat hazy. Things were starting to become clearer though, and as the final remnants of the nausea passed they became more aware of the smaller pains they were feeling: their knees felt freshly bruised - likely caused by their hasty fall - and they were acutely aware that the villain's soft touch at their waist was somehow painful. They ignored it though, finding too much comfort in the other's embrace to possibly tell them to stop.

Reassured that the hero would no longer throw up, the villain led them back down the corridor and to their bedroom, the hero going along quite happily and allowing themself to be guided back down to sit on the bed. The villain came to sit opposite them, hands retracting to rest in their own lap - the place where the hero had lost the contact now feeling cold.

"So...what happened?" the hero asked.

In front of them, the villain seemed to go through a range of emotions - first angry, then upset, then livid. Whatever it was it wasn't good, that was for sure.

"I didn't realise you followed me last night," the villain began. "If I had known I - I'd have never let you step foot in that place."

The hero frowned as they thought, trying to recall just where they'd followed the villain to. They sensed something coming back to them then - remembered trailing the villain's path from a distance, watching as they finally entered...

"The...bar?" the hero said uncertainly.

"Not just any bar, Hero: a bar for villains."

Oh. Oh no.

"Oh god I - I didn't realise, what did - I mean did I just walk in or...?"

The villain's expression turned pained, fists clenching in the sheets as their regret showed plainly on their face. "I don't know," they said honestly. "Hero, I'm so sorry I - I was in the back for half an hour, I had no clue that you'd... I don't know what they did in that time."

The hero reached forward to take the villain's hands into their own. "It's okay: it's not your fault. Whatever happened, I don't blame you for any of it, okay?"

"But you don't understand - I should have checked: I know you follow me sometimes, and I should have made sure that--"

The hero held their hands tighter. "It wasn't your fault," they insisted. "Just, tell me what happened when you did find me."

The villain's gaze shot off to the side - clearly still unwilling to forgive themself just yet. Their eyes narrowed as they thought, some memory or other bringing the anger they'd shown earlier back full force.

"They drugged you," the villain explained. "It's probably why you don't remember - you were barely conscious. You couldn't fight, couldn't speak, could barely sit up straight. When I found you I...it was clear that Assassin had taken a liking to you. They had you sat on their lap and they... God, Hero, if I'd left any later then I - I think they'd intended to..."

The hero felt sick again. They remembered absolutely nothing of it and perhaps that was what made it so terrifying. The idea that someone could just control them like that - strip down their defenses and leave them completely vulnerable, not even able to speak or call for help.

Their fear must have shown because the villain suddenly pulled them forwards, wrapping their arms around them and letting the hero bury their face in their chest - their hold tight and protective. The hero practically melted into it, trying to pull the villain closer still until they felt as though the other encompassed them fully.

"I'll never let it happen again," the villain said, something in their tone so dark and possessive that the hero couldn't help but shiver. "As long as you're by my side, I won't let them so much as touch you."

The villain's hands slid down the hero's back and to their waist, the other hating the sudden flinch of pain the movement invoked in them. The villain froze before recoiling instantly - eyes wide as they scanned the hero over, not sure what they'd done.

"I'm sorry I - does it hurt? Are you hurt?"

The hero tried to dismiss their concerns, stopping the villain's hands when they moved to try and pull up their shirt. They had an idea of what the other would find and they didn't want them to see - knew the villain would simply blame themself for it.

"I-It's nothing really, I swear you - you don't need to, it's fine, really," they said.

The villain didn't believe them. They moved their hands foward again, slowly grabbing the hem of the hero's shirt. Then they waited - waited for the hero to allow them to continue, and eventually the other did: putting theirs arms at their side and letting out a shaky breath, knowing the villain wouldn't step down until they'd seen what was wrong.

Gently, the villain lifted the material, and what they saw was enough to make their blood boil.

There were bruises. Tons of them, scattered and littered over the hero's sides - some the size of fingertips whilst others were larger, as if the assassin had purposefully pinched the skin until it left a mark.

The hero let out a small whimper at the sight - their idea on the cause of their pain proved accurate but they couldn't believe the scale to which they'd been right.

The villain, however, said nothing. They let the material drop back down and brought the hero close to them once more, mindful of the bruises as they held them. Slowly they leant down, placing a soft kiss upon the hero's forehead.

"Never again," they muttered against the other's hair, too quiet for them to hear.

Never again, never again, never again...

Part 3

[duhragonball]

Intro

I keep hearing about this influx of Tik Tok users (Tokkers?), and that sounds like a weird prank.  Like, I thought Tik Tok was the cool thing all the young people do now, so why would they want to come use Tumblr, the hottest social media platform of 2011?  But I’ve been seeing an uptick in people liking my old posts, so maybe this is a real thing.  

I won’t bother telling new people how to use this website.   It’s a dumpster fire, and half of my followers have empty blogs that just say “Sem Titulo” in the header.  You can pretty much do whatever the hell you want, as long as it doesn’t have nipples in it.  I suspect a lot of users just signed up so they could see all the content, which is why they use default pfps and they never reblog anything.   They want to be spectators, not participants, and I can respect that. 

I am thinking that maybe I should make some sort of introduction to this particular blog, because it’s been almost ten years and I’ve never really spelled out what I’m here for.   I mean, yeah, it’s Dragon Ball content, with a little JoJo and Hellsing on the side, but I also overanalyze stuff, while refusing to take the thing too seriously.  That’s a tricky balance, and I probably don’t always get it right, but I like to think the “duh” in my username helps set the tone.  Dragon Ball is a show about silly cartoon characters beating the shit out of each other.   It’s very dumb but also very clever and poignant at the same time.  

I did a liveblog of the entire anime in 2019, which is probably the most popular feature I have.   You can check that out here, here, and here. 

A lot of my more popular post are replies to asks.   The tag #ask duhragonball would cover them all.  You can feel free to send me a question of your own, but be advised that I turned anonymous asks off last year.   I used to take anon asks, but they gradually got stupider and less relevant over time, to the point where it just became unpleasant on multiple levels.   The last one was some guy asking me about a direct-to-home-video Popeye movie, no explanation given.   I have found that the quality of the asks goes up when people have to take accountability for their questions.   I get a lot fewer asks these days, but the ones I do get are 100 times better than the crap I used to see.  PROTIP: If you’re worried about getting on my good side, ask me about my OC.  This seems like an obvious strategy, but someone out there decided to ask me about Popeye instead, so maybe I’m putting out the wrong signals.

Speaking of my OC, I write fanfic, which I tend to cross-post to this blog.   The main feature is this epic-length story featuring my take on the Super Saiyan who lived one thousand years before Goku.  I made her a girl because it would piss off people who deserve to get pissed off.   She wears yellow pants and she’s sad a lot and she beats the fuck out of bad guys.  Is this my magnum opus?  Well, it might be.  The fic itself is tagged “#lssjluffafic” and the related material is tagged #luffastuff.  I think.   I’ll have to double check.  

That’s about it.   At some point, I need to formalize this a little more and make it into a proper pinned post, I guess, but it’ll do for now.  

[quinintheclouds]

Hey, I just read your post on ADHD/EFDD and was just wondering if you have read any research articles on this and if you have, could you tell me which ones because it all sounds super interesting and I need to choose a topic for my psych lit review and I’m thinking about doing something to do with all the stigma around and misconceptions about different mental health disorders.. it’s totally okay if not tho, I know it’s a big ask, but thanks anyway

That sounds like such a great topic!!! I would be HONORED to help :D 

The first person I think of when discussing the term EFDD is Dr. Russell Barkley. He’s one of the leading ADHD experts, and has been a spearhead for studying executive dysfunction in people with ADHD for decades. Very much ahead of his time compared to the DSM. I’ve had his book “Taking Charge of Adult ADHD” recommended to me so many times, but have yet to read it.

Here’s some free stuff, though! 

[reblogs appreciated because Tumblr hates posts with links and I wanna make sure this anon sees it!]

I tried to include some short stuff and longer stuff, some articles, images, videos, and comic recs, so you can choose based on your current energy and focus level :) I’ve also bolded links and key points of each source if you like skimming. Let’s go!

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Here’s an interesting article/study on EFDD! They found that “ADHD [is] associated with deficits in inhibition, managing one’s attention, self-directed speech and rule-following, self-motivation, and even self-awareness [...] ADHD therefore involves deficits in self-restraint, [...] selfsensing and imagery, self-control of emotion, and self-directed play for problem-solving.”

Thank you for motivating me to look up some articles, because I learned some new things, too! For instance, they assert that ADHD could also be called SRDD (Self-Regulation Deficit Disorder), but conclude the article by saying either SRDD or EFDD fits better than ADHD, and that the terms could be used interchangeably, because SR (self-regulation) and EF (executive function) are effectively talking about the same things. So his assertion is that even if the name ADHD never changes, it can still be scientifically classified as either of the other terms. I believe in recent years he’s preferred EFDD more and more.

[note that the above article/study is from 2011, back when we were on the DSM-IV, so a lot of research has been done since then]

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If that article’s a bit wordy or you want something more visual and up-to-date, here’s a really detailed PowerPoint presentation used during the 2018 ADHD Symposium! It’s long but well-organized so you can just read the big headers or you can read all the bullet points explaining it. Keep in mind this was a lecture, so some of it probably made more sense in person. I’m glad I read this, because I realize the terminology I’ve used is slightly off: according to the Symposium, there aren’t “subtypes” of ADHD, but the different names (ADHD-PI, ADHD-PH, and ADHD-C) are really just used to show the prevalence of certain symptoms in that individual. So they’re all terms for ADHD, but “subtype” was poor word choice on my part. 

Oh! I just found a video of him giving a lecture in 2012 using many of the same PowerPoint slides! Here ya go! It’s a bit longer than the other videos I’ve linked below (13min), but it might make the slides easier to interpret :)

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If you want a really short and basic overview, here’s a video explaining 5 main ways executive functions affect the brain and how they work differently in people with ADHD. [I put the video below as well if you wanna stay on tumblr] It’s from 2010, but it holds up. It only covers 5 big ones, so remember (if you can) that executive function affects EVERYTHING and the symptoms will affect everyone differently and at different levels. 

This is just the most basic overview and a good place to start:

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Here’s one where he talks about our Time-Blindness! (below) I was going to pick a couple favorite quotes to give you an idea, but that’d wind up being a transcript of the whole video because HE GETS IT. This is from 2014, but I CANNOT recommend it enough!!! He mentions that ADHD doesn’t have a deficit of attention, but rather a deficit of intention. He describes us as having a near-sighted sense of time, and talks about deadlines, “laziness,” etc.

 ALSO he talks about how our brains DON’T CONNECT our knowledge to our performance (back of brain to front) like everyone else’s, so we have the same level of knowledge and intelligence, but can’t access and use it the way others can. This is why teaching skills and organization/memory/time-management tips isn’t helpful -- we can learn them, but our knowledge and action centers are separated, so actually doing them/sticking with them is just as hard as before. 

If you don’t watch the whole thing, at least skip to 3:29 cause that part’s really funny and relatable (ok the whole thing is relatable):

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And of course, I highly recommend the YouTube channel How to ADHD! I have a couple friends who work on it, and they REALLY know their stuff! (They’re the ones who taught me during a game night that RSD isn’t a real term and it should be called “rejection-sensitivity” as part of the emotional dysregulation umbrella) 

I went looking and found this video (below) has the BEST explanation of it that I’ve seen in such a concise, entertaining way. I hadn’t seen this one before, but it even covers some of the things I mentioned in that post your ask is about! Especially the Internal Restlessness that I mentioned as the true “hyperactivity” we all share; even though some of us also express outward hyperactivity, both presentations come from the same restlessness in our brains.

^^^This has some great examples, visuals, animations, and different ways of explaining and thinking about our symptoms! If you want more about this, the description has a bunch of links to their sources! Jessica and everyone else who works on this channel is great at making the videos watchable for people with ADHD (even if we have to rewind sometimes)

Here's Jessica's official Twitter @HowtoADHD! (I was today years old when I found out that she follows me)

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And if you want something REALLY short and simple, here’s a 2 minute animation comparing living with ADHD to trying to film a movie with a director who keeps falling asleep [below]

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If you like comics:

My favorite ADHD comic artists are: ADHD Alien [@ADHD_Alien on Twitter and @adhd-alien on Tumblr]; Dani Donovan [@danidonovan on Twitter and @danidonovan on Tumblr -- we’re somehow twitter mutuals and she is such a sweetheart. She has some really good infographics, too!!]; ADHD Bri [@AdhdBri on Twitter and @adhdbri on Tumblr]; and dreamadept [@yume_dango on Twitter and @yume-dango on Tumblr]

They’re all well-researched, funny, genuine, intelligent, insightful, talented artists who depict ADHD in a very accurate and relatable way. Go check ‘em out and support them! :D

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I’m gonna stop there for now, but PLEASE feel free to add on to this with other sources, questions, videos, thoughts, comic artists, etc.!!! Hope this helps someone out there!

[staticscreenwriting]

Wonderful tonight // F.M.

Synopsis: Reader is Pope’s sister and her and Frankie have been dancing around each other for years. Now Pope is getting married and emotions are running high and Frankie and Reader are both single at the same time for the first time ever. It’s all about the longing, the yearning. 

A/N: This entire thing was inspired by that picture of Pedro in the header and how handsome he is. This is my first time writing for this fandom and I rewrote this story about 5 million times. If you like it let me know if you don’t then you can also let me know if you want. I did run this through spellcheck but it’s not really edited. I don’t have the time, honestly. Just ignore mistakes, please and thank you. Hope you enjoy.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

“ One day I’m gonna stand right over there. I’m gonna wear an expensive suit and shiny shoes. I’m gonna get my hair done real nice, and probably have a flower pinned to my jacket. My hands will be clammy and my heart will be racing. There will be flowers, lots of them, all over the garden. We'll have a musician playing acoustic guitar. All my friends will be there, and — and our entire crazy family. And I’m gonna get married to the love of my life. Right here. And things will be good. People will be happy.” 

“ Mom will probably be crying. “ 

“ Oh for sure. “ 

As she steps out into the garden, (Y/N) can’t help but let her mind wander back to that one summer night a long time ago. Pope was fresh out of high school then, about to move out and start the rest of his life, away from home. Nights like these, sitting in the garden of their childhood home and sharing silly stories and hopes and fears, were numbered. That’s the thing about having siblings, it really only occurs to you how important they are to you when you’re faced with the idea of a life without them. So they sat there, on the steps of the porch, ice-cold cans of coke in hand and hearts open and vulnerable. Pope had never shared any of his dreams with her, not like this at least. But maybe him leaving home made him feel nostalgic too. 

Her eyes meet his across the aisle and he smiles at her with his signature Santiago Garcia smile, the one that’s gotten him out of so much trouble when he was younger, the one that looks so much like their mother’s. An ocean of flowers surrounds him, just like he said it would. And their entire crazy family has taken their seats, ready to watch him get married to the love of his life. (Y/N) has always been proud of her brother's achievements, in and outside of the army. But she’s never been more proud than today. 

Will softly links his arm with her’s as they walk down the aisle to take their respective places as bridesmaid and groomsman. The air is filled with the soft melodic strumming of an acoustic guitar and the perpetual scent of peonies. The rational part of (Y/N)’s brain knows that life isn’t like the movies but maybe, she thinks, sometimes life grants us a little moment in which we get to relish in a bit of that magic that makes those films so enchanting. 

Just as she’s predicted all those years ago, her mother is crying. Big happy tears roll down her blushed cheeks. If we’re being entirely honest, neither (Y/N) nor their mother had really believed they’d ever see Pope up there, wearing an expensive suit and shiny shoes and waiting for the love of his life to walk down the aisle so he can marry her and start their happily ever after. Then again, ever since he was little Pope always found a way to get the things he wanted if he only set his mind to it. The sky was and still is the limit for her brother and that is something (Y/N) is infinitely envious of and wonderfully amazed by at the same time.

As they reach the front, Will lets go of her arm and walks right to stand with Pope and the groomsmen and she walks to the left stepping up beside the maid of honor.

It all goes so fast from then on, one more bridesmaid and groomsman, the flower girls, then the bride. She looks gorgeous and she’s smiling the biggest smile. It’s one that just radiates with pure unfiltered joy. And there’s love in her eyes. So much love. The way she looks at Pope leaves no doubt about her feelings for him. It’s the most basic of all human emotions and yet the most complex to grasp though at that moment, in her eyes and his, it’s so clear to see and so easy to understand. 

(Y/N) feels her heart do a little stutter as she allows herself, for the first time that day, to let her eyes wander towards the row of groomsmen. This is, by all accounts, a bad decision that’s only gonna hurt. Self-destructive behavior is something she’s pretty good at though.

Frankie stands next to Pope like a rock, sturdy and determined and ready to catch him if he were to stumble or fall. That is something so enigmatic about Frankie. As flimsy and unpredictable he can be when it comes to himself, he’s incredibly loyal towards his friends and loved ones. He does not falter, does not shake. Not for his loved ones, never.

The dark blue suit looks good on him, it fits him like a glove and it must’ve been expensive. Though (Y/N) can’t help but feel like something is missing. This isn’t the Frankie she knows. The one she —. Granted, it’s been years but still, there’s something funny and peculiar about Frankie in a fancy suit. 

His lips are pulled up in a small, gentle smile. One that makes a comfortable warmth settle in (Y/N)’s heart. This man is both so familiar and yet so complicated. He’s been a constant in (Y/N)’s life for a long while now, ever since the first time Pope brought him around for dinner. Even without any blood relation, those two are brothers through and through. Will and Benny too. Those four, forever bound to one another by the horrors they’ve seen, the pain they’ve felt, and the family that developed along the way. 

(Y/N) loves those boys, they are as much a part of her family now as they are of Pope's and yet, something about Frankie always felt different. From the first moment, their eyes met, the air filled with a strong magnetic pull. Invisible but palpable. It was always special. Always. Frankie is the kind of guy one can call at 3 am because you’ve heard a scary sound and don’t feel safe and he’ll jump into his car and come check it out for you and protect you, no questions asked. And he never wants anything in return. He just gives because that’s what his heart tells him too. The world, (Y/N) thinks, needs more people like Frankie.

He’s not without his issues, far from it really, and (Y/N) can acknowledge that. But the sum of his faults does not undo the size of his heart. Somewhere along the way of their friendship things changed. It was a gradual change, slow and steady like water down a stream. Glances lingered, hands kept brushing more frequently and the air held a perpetual sizzle of static. Though neither of them ever admitted it, they both knew it was there. Hell, even the boys, foolish and naive as they could be, noticed. It was a well-known secret.

If life really was a movie, the two of them would’ve gotten a happily ever after by now. A dance on a rooftop, a kiss in the rain, a soft indie song leading them into the end credits. A gentle epilogue to a slow burn romance.

But life really isn’t a movie. Everything seems to be working against them. Mostly time and cultural conventions. This man is her brother’s friend. Her brother’s brother. You don’t date your brother's friends, that’s like an unwritten rule. But time is probably the worst of their enemies. It never seems to be on their side. They’ve never been single at the same time. Frankie went through several more or less serious relationships and while (Y/N) hasn’t found anyone to settle down with permanently, there’d been men she lent her heart to.

Last year, just a few weeks before Pope swept his band of merry men off on their suicide mission to Colombia, (Y/N) moved back home after ending a 3-year relationship. Dave was — he was nice. Nice and secure and stable and boring. Something about him felt too squeaky clean. That night, looking at old pictures of herself and the boys that were proudly displayed on the fireplace in her parent’s living room, it became abundantly clear to her that Dave wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Dave wasn’t Francisco. She’d really set her mind to it then, to pull herself together and muster up the courage to finally seek a conversation with him about the elephant in the room they both had refused to acknowledge for so long. She’d been determined. Then Pope dropped a bomb on her.

“So Frankie and his girl are having a baby.” 

And from that moment on she refused to let herself entertain any thought of her and him having any kind of future that went beyond being friends. It hurt, god it hurt like hell. But dreaming of things that could never be wasn’t doing her any good either.

Seeing him now, looking all snazzy in his suit and smiling, it sends a familiar shive through her body and makes the moths in her stomach go crazy. If only life was a movie. If only.

The ceremony passes in the blink of an eye. There’s happy tears, lots of them but love shines brightly through it all. Every glance, every touch, every word spoken. As her brother and his new wife make their way down the aisle, (Y/N) dares to take another glance towards Frankie and, for the first time that day, he’s looking back.

The world doesn’t shift or shake right then, doesn’t spin out of its axis. Nothing fundamentally changes but the air feels different. The electricity is back. The magnetic pull. The undeniable attraction. Just like that, they are both thrown back into this everlasting limbo of what-ifs.

(Y/N) looks away before her heart can break further, knowing what could’ve been and what can never be.

Weddings have this strange side effect of making you think about your own romantic entanglements. It’s not necessarily a bad thing or a sad thing. It’s just a fact. Seeing other people’s love being displayed so prominently, being celebrated, it makes you wonder. Will I ever find this kind of love? 

“ You know, I think you and I gotta have a talk.” Pope’s voice holds a certain edge to it, a teasing tone she’s heard so many times growing up.

“ About what? Shouldn’t you be dancing with your wife right now? “

“ Ah, she got caught up in a conversation with her aunt, something about corgis. Once that woman starts going there’s no stopping her. It’s — it’s a lot.” 

“ And you left your wife behind to fend for herself? What a way to start life as a married couple.” 

Pope gives her a chuckle and their silly banter makes (Y/N) feel like a kid again.

“ So I’m gonna need you to talk to Fish. “ 

“ Huh? “

“ Oh don’t play dumb. I’ve known you your whole life, kiddo. I know when something’s going on with you and something is definitely going on.” 

“ What’s my emotional turmoil got to do with Frankie?” 

Her older brother raises his eyebrow in mock offense. As if to say “you really think I’m that dumb?” 

“ You two have been throwing looks at each other all day whenever you think the other isn’t looking. Subtlety really isn’t either of you's strong suit. “ 

That, (Y/N) thinks, must be absolute nonsense. Frankie’s got a girl and a baby, there’s no reason for him to sneak glances at her. Clearly he’s gotten his happily ever after already and it doesn’t involve her. Pope must be delusional. Must have a head filled with cotton candy and all things rose-colored.

“ You’re on a wedding high, my guy. There have been no looks. “ 

Her words are met by Pope shaking his head in frustration. “ Look, I just — just please go talk to him. This dancing around each other is very high school drama and I love you both which is why I can’t watch this going on any longer. “ 

“ What are you saying?” 

“ That if there’s something there worth um — worth exploring, you don’t have to worry about me or my opinion on it. “

If anyone had ever told her those words would ever leave her brother’s lips, she would've called that person crazy. Not that they change anything, he’s still got a woman at home and a baby. But still — it’s nice to know that if things had worked out differently, Pope would approve.

“ Are you saying that if I wanted to date Frankie — which I don’t, but like let’s pretend I did. Hypothetically. You’d be okay with that? “ 

“ (Y/N), “ Pope says and his voice dips lower as his expression grows more serious “ I love both of you. I just want you guys to be happy. “ 

Before either of them can continue the conversation, the bride steps up beside them, throwing her arms around Pope’s middle and facing (Y/N) with a big, radiant smile on her face.

“ Sorry I had to interrupt but I needed to get away from aunt Lisa and her Corgie stories.”

“ Nah it’s okay, don’t worry I uh — I gotta go talk to someone. “

Pope smiles at her in return and a silent understanding passes between the two. Maybe the story wasn't all that hypothetical after all.

Much to (Y/N)’s delight, Frankie sits alone at the table. His suit jacket is lazily thrown over the back of the chair and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows. This looks more like the Frankie she knows. The one she loves. Effortlessly cool and yet so undeniably charming. 

Sliding onto the chair next to his, she can feel her heart speed up with anxiety. She shouldn’t feel this way around him. Underneath all the feelings, this is still her Frankie, one of her best friends, a member of her little family of misfits.

“ Hey, you. “ her words are soft, delicate, almost as if she’s afraid of saying them. And maybe she is. A little bit at least.

“ Hey, stranger. Long time no see.”

His voice is dark and soothing but there’s an edge to it, a hint of teasing. 

“ Mmh. It’s been a while. “

“ Yeah, and with the way you’ve been avoiding me all day today, it makes me wonder if I did anything wrong. “ 

Oh god.

“ Dude, what’s it with everyone thinking I’m avoiding you? I’m not. “ 

“ You sure about that? “ Frankie asks and raises his eyebrow in question.

“ Yup. Just been a — a busy day. I’d never avoid you, I missed you. “ 

At least the last part of that statement is factual. She’s missed him terribly. 

“ I missed you too “.

There’s a truth in his eyes, a grounding honesty that is so hard to come by in people. Whatever words fall from his lips they are deliberate and he means them 100%. It’s something (Y/N) has always admired and appreciated about him. 

“ Sooo … I was hoping you’d bring a plus 1 today. “ 

“ Huh? “

“ The baby ! “ 

“ Oh. Oh, I think it’s way past her bedtime by now. She’s uh — she’s with her mom. “ 

“ Do you have a picture? “ 

Frankie scoffs, “ One? I got a bunch of ‘em. How much time have you got? “ 

As he pulls out his old battered leather wallet, (Y/N) can’t help but let a smile take over her face. It’s so fitting that he would carry the pictures around in his wallet instead of having them saved on a phone. Frankie was never the guy to get all obsessed with having the newest technological gadgets. Though he was smart as hell and good at navigating any and all electronic devices, he never felt the desire to own a smartphone himself only having caved and bought one a year ago when his old phone died on him. 

“ That’s her. Just celebrated her first birthday. “ 

The girl in the picture is undeniably Frankie’s daughter. She’s grinning up at the camera with his exact smile only she’s missing a few teeth still. Her eyes are the same soothing shade of brown and are rimmed by the same thick black eyelashes. She’s gorgeous and something about seeing her sends a pang straight to (Y/N)’s heart. What if …

It was one thing knowing that he was a dad but actually seeing his baby and realizing that’s his new reality, it’s strange. And while (Y/N) is happy for him, a part of her has a hard time coping with that realization. What if things had worked out differently, could that have been her life too?

“ She’s adorable. “ 

“ Yeaaah, “ Frankie replies and shrugs his shoulder casually, “ guess I did a pretty good job there. ‘s the first time in my life. Only thing I ever did right. “ 

Though he tries to shake it off and veil his words with a tone of mockery, (Y/N) can see right through him. The self-depreciation has always been a point of contention to her. How he can not see how wonderful he is, how loyal and sweet and loving, is beyond her.

“ Shut up, Frankie. Except for my brother, you’re the only guy I know that would drop everything to help me paint my kitchen at 1 am on a Tuesday. You’re so sweet and funny and I have not a single doubt in my mind that you’re an amazing dad. Stop selling yourself short. “ 

For a moment a quiet settles upon them that is neither comfortable nor awkward. It just is. And then Frankie looks into her eyes again and the moths are back going haywire. If only her future lay in those eyes, oh how wonderful yet foolish of a thought. 

“ Ah, I don’t know. Her mom doesn’t seem to think so. Left just before her first birthday. I mean — “ he sighs and takes a sip from his bottle of beer “ things between us hadn’t been good for a while and a breakup was inevitable. It’s just that I wish I could see the kid more. She’s my heart. She’s my everything. I want to be good enough for her, you know? So one day she can be like that’s my dad and he’s a pretty alright guy. Not that’s my dad, the ex-addict unemployed pilot. “ 

“ Frankie. That kid's gonna love you so much, now and forever. Because you love her. That’s all that matters. When you think about your childhood, do you think about your parents’ jobs? No. You think about how much they loved you and the good memories you had with them. “ 

Frankie stays silent for a moment, just looks at her with his big brown eyes, and then — then he smiles. 

“ Can I tell you something? “ 

“ Always.” 

“ When she was born. When the doctor let me see her and hold her for the first time. I wanted to call you. You’re the first person I wanted to talk to about her. I was so fucking terrified at that moment because she was so tiny and the world is so big and scary and I don’t know how to not fuck things up for her and how to protect her from it all. And you, when I’m with you I never felt scared, ever. You’re so good at making me feel like I can do everything and at making me forget about my own shortcomings. I wanted to call you so bad. “ 

“ Then why didn’t you? “

He averts his gaze for a moment, as if it’s a secret that weighs heavy on his heart. One he hasn’t told anyone before. One he isn’t sure he’s ready to share.

“ Didn’t wanna bother you. “ 

That’s not the truth. She can tell immediately. Frankie is a lot of things but he’s not a very good liar, at least not to the people that know him very well. Though she doesn’t push the situation any further. 

“ Pffsh. Bother me …” 

“ Didn’t think your boyfriend was gonna be okay with me calling you in the middle of the night. “ 

“ Well fuck him. “ 

Frankie raises his eyebrows in surprise. “ Huh “

“ Yup. “ 

“ Didn’t work out? “

“ Nope. “ 

“ Why’s that? “ 

Cause he isn’t you. That’s what she wants to say. That’s what rests on the tip of her tongue just waiting to be spoken. She doesn’t say it though, doesn’t have the guts. There’s an overwhelming sadness about getting your heart broken at a wedding and it’s not something she wants to experience today.

“ Just didn’t work out. Realized he wasn’t who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. “ 

“ So you’re not gonna be the next one inviting me to a wedding and making me wear a stupid fancy-ass suit? “ 

“ No way. First of all, you look hot in this suit and you know it. Second of all, nah. I feel like this isn’t in the cards for me. I want —  I want a guy that I can call at 3 am to get chocolate chip pancakes at the diner and that will run through the garden sprinkler with me when it’s hot outside and that will ask me to slow dance at a wedding even though the song that’s playing is super cheesy and overplayed. Dave was sweet and he was secure but I always felt like something was missing. I loved him but we were never friends. I think that’s what I was missing. “ 

Their eyes meet again and a shiver runs down her spine. There’s a tension in the air so thick one could cut it with a knife. And for a moment, just a fleeting moment, one that passes in the blink of an eye, there’s the courage she’s been looking for for so long. The one that helps her push the words from the tip of her tongue and speak them. For the first time. Finally.

“ Frankie, he wasn’t y— “ 

“ (Y/N), Darling. It’s time for your speech. “ 

At that moment she wants to strangle her own mother. That courage? It’s never gonna come back. This was her one chance and it’s not gonna come back ever. Oh god, what is Frankie gonna think? What’s gonna happen to their friendship ?! 

“ Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll just. Okay yeah. I’m coming. “ 

She doesn’t dare even as much as glance back at Frankie. Though before she makes her way over to her seat where the mic is already waiting for her and the speech she’s so meticulously planned, she hears him call out to her.

“ (Y/N)! “ 

“ Hmm…? “ 

“ I lied. I didn’t call you when the baby was born because I thought It was extremely inappropriate to call the woman I’m in love with while the mother of my child is recovering from giving birth. “

The moths in her stomach are gone now. There are bats now. Maybe a swarm of birds. Something bigger than moths for sure. Her whole body feels like it’s on fire and simultaneously being splashed with ice-cold water. Her heart is beating faster and her hands are clammy and all she can do is stare and get lost in his eyes and his smile and this moment that seems unreal.

“ Honey? “ 

Her mother’s words break the spell and (Y/N) follows her to take her place at the table. The mic feels heavy in her hand though everything else feels weightless. Maybe, she thinks, this is what love should feel like. Weightless. Easy. Magical.

There’s a piece of paper in her sparkly clutch with a long and sentimental speech written on it all about love and finding your soulmate and all that stuff that, until today, she always felt like she didn’t really know anything about except for what they tell you in the lovesongs on the radio or the rom-coms on tv. And yeah maybe it’s still too early to feel like the world is an entirely different place now but those words he said, she’s been waiting for those words for over a decade. If there was ever a moment to romanticize her own life, to relish in the feeling of being loved, and to celebrate her own successes, it’s today.

The pre-written speech stays in the purse. Instead (Y/N) takes the mic and starts talking. Straight from the heart.

Across the room, her eyes meet Frankie’s and all she can do is smile, for it’s the first time in a long time where her future isn’t so scary. It’s exciting. Maybe everything else that came before was just the prologue and her story is just now about to really begin.

“ Hi. I’m (Y/N), I’m Santiago’s sister, and uh — I wanna talk to you about love. “ 

Weddings are hectic and busy affairs. There’s something going on at all times and it’s impossible for (Y/N) to find even a second to have a proper conversation with Frankie about — well everything. So much time had been wasted between them, on keeping their feelings locked up and trying to find the right moment. Now the moment is here and the conversation doesn’t seem so scary no more. Now the only thing that stands between them is this wedding. There are speeches then food then cake then more speeches then a picture slide-show one of the bridesmaids put together then then then. It’s never-ending and though it’s fun and (Y/N) enjoys celebrating her brother’s love, she wishes time would pass quicker right then. If only for once, time could be on their side. 

Only when the newlyweds have left the venue to spend their wedding night at a fancy hotel nearby and most of the guests have cleared too, (Y/N) finally finds time to sit down and just relax for a moment. No speeches to listen to, no uncles who insist on getting one dance with her, no bride who needs help holding up her dress while she pees. Just calm and quiet and —

“ Can I have this dance? “ 

His hand is reaching out to her and there’s a nervous smile playing on his lips. There’s something quite intoxicating about it all now that she knows he feels the same. All the anxiety is gone and replaced with hopes and dreams of a future that now seems like it might actually happen. One that’s been a “What-if” for so long.

“ It would be my pleasure. “ 

Neither of them is a particularly good dancer but it doesn’t matter right then. All that matters is that they get to exist together at that moment and in their little bubble. That they get to be close and sway left and right as Eric Clapton’s “Wonderful tonight” echoes through the room.

“ That song is so cheesy and overplayed, “ (Y/N) exclaims, “ I love it. “ 

Frankie places a soft kiss on the top of her head and it sends her heart into overdrive. Is this what the lovers in a Jane Austen novel felt like when their hands locked for the first time, just a fleeting whisper of a touch?

It feels exhilarating and (Y/N) feels alive and like nothing is missing. Everything and everyone is right where they’re supposed to be.

“ You ever thought Pope was gonna end up actually getting married? I didn’t see that one coming to be honest. “ 

(Y/N) leans her cheek against his chest as they keep softly swaying to the song. A tiny content smile settles on her lips.

“ Actually, yeah. It was always part of his plan and you know him, if he sets his mind to something he usually ends up succeeding. “ 

Frankie nods in response. “ Talking about your brother, we had a uh — a conversation earlier.” 

“ Now why in the world would you do such a thing? “ she jokes though not for a second does she lift her head off of his chest. He’s warm and soft and she can just about make out his heartbeat. This feels too comfortable to disrupt it for even a second.

“ He kinda implied that he wouldn’t mind if you and I — “ 

He stops, considers his words, rearranges them. 

“ If we what? “ 

“ Started dating? That sounds wrong, that makes us sound like teenagers. “ 

“ You know, it’s funny because he implied something awfully similar when I talked to him earlier. “ 

“ Huh. weird. “ 

“ Ya think that maybe this, “ she says and gestures between the two of them “ is also part of his plan? “ 

Frankie shrugs and moves his hand to her jaw, softly stroking her cheek with his thumb.

“ He always gets what he wants, guess we can’t break the chain, huh? “ 

“ Guess not. “ 

They’re so close. So unfathomably close. His warm breath falls onto her skin and he can smell the flowery scent of her perfume. The air around them sizzles with electric anticipation. 

Back when she was a kid, (Y/N) was obsessed with the Disney Cinderella movie. Everything about it felt so magical and wonderful and life held the sweet bliss of childlike wonder and innocence. And then she grew up and witnessed her heart breaking over and over again. 

Now that she’s standing here, in the arms of the man she’s loved for so much longer than she can remember, she thinks that maybe the movie wasn’t all wrong. Yeah, maybe it’s an overly sugar-coated fairytale where happy endings are guaranteed and things get fixed with a song and the help of some critter sidekicks. But the underlying message of them all, the most fundamental truth of them all is that love is worth believing in even when life gives you so many chances to lose hope. 

Just like the fairy godmother has said: Even miracles take a little time.

This kiss, warm and gentle and passionate, is a miracle in itself. If only for the fact that it has taken over a decade for it to finally happen. His lips meet hers and the world spins faster and slower all at once. If this was a movie, they’d probably show a montage of all their happy memories throughout their years of friendship, all the longing glances, and flirty touches. But this isn’t a movie. This is real life. She’s really dancing with him. He’s really kissing her. 

She doesn’t have to imagine any of it anymore because it’s happening right here and right now and life is so much better than any movie or romance novel or cheesy pop song. They can never live up to the real thing.

Neither of them wants to pull away though eventually their lungs demand oxygen and they reluctantly detach their lips. 

“ You think we should, give this thing a chance? “ 

Once again there he goes being so casual. As if this is not a decision that’s been in the making for such a long time now. An accumulation of years of longing and wishing and hoping and constantly missing the right moments and bottling up feelings.

“ Francisco Morales, I’ve loved you for a long ass time now. I am not letting you go anytime soon. Ain’t no getting rid of me, buddy. “ 

“ Good, I’m not planning on it. And I love you too, by the way.“ 

They seal it with a kiss and life feels like it always did only — better. Everything feels so damn right. The what-ifs are gone and in their place now stands a future worth looking forward to. One filled with adventure and happiness and love.

“ Hey, (Y/N)? “ 

“ Hmmm ? “ 

“ You wanna go get pancakes at the diner around the corner? “ 

“ With chocolate chips? “

Frankie scoffs “ Duh. What a question. “ 

There’s a lot of comfort to be found in romantic media though as they walk outside the venue, hand in hand and matching smiles on their faces, (Y/N) thinks that every once in awhile life itself makes for the best movie, the most magical moments and the greatest love stories. 

[melsie-sims]

check in tag ✔️

thank you for tagging me, @cyazurai!

why did you choose your url? 

my irl nickname is mel and the first initial of my middle name is c. smooshed together it sounds like “melsie”. i thought it was pretty clever at the time, and i still really like the username.

any side blogs? if you have them name them and why you have them. 

not at the moment. i used to have a blog i rarely ever used back before i made a simblr. it hasn’t been touched in over a year. 

how long have you been on tumblr? 

my blog anniversary was at the end of last may, so a little over a year!

do you have a queue tag? 

i don’t think so? what does that mean? xD

why did you start your blog in the first place? 

i was posting some casual, unedited screenshots on my “main blog” (the one that hasn’t been used in forever) and realized i liked storytelling and sharing my content. i wanted to make a blog that was way more organized and actually completely sim-related... so melsie-sims became a thing!

why did you choose your icon/pfp? 

i change it pretty frequently. right now it’s just a random sim i made posing in sulani. it’s supposed to be summer-themed. 

why did you choose your header? 

same as above.

what’s your post with the most notes? 

ummmm probably part two of my dog bandanna cc with 217 notes. it’s hilarious because part one only got 16 notes and they’re basically one big set.  

how many mutuals do you have? 

am i supposed to count them all? probably at least 100 since i follow a lot of active simmers that follow me. 

how many followers do you have? 

379.

how many people do you follow? 

355.

have you ever made a shitpost? 

depends on what qualifies? probably. i won’t say no.

how often do you use tumblr each day? 

depends? i try to keep my queue pretty long (at least a week or two in advance if i’m good) so unless i get burnt out on the sims for a considerable amount of times, i’m at least active once a day. do i check tumblr every day? probably not. maybe once every few days i’ll go on a huge binge of liking shit and getting back on track with stories i’m following. 

did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won? 

lol i’m way too awkward for that shit. i keep quiet and move on if i disagree. i will reblog things sometimes that could result in some fights but so far i’ve been pretty lucky with a nice, supportive community.

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts? 

idk? depends on what they are? 

do you like tag games? 

they’re fun!! personally i love getting tagged, but i hate tagging other people because i feel like i’m being annoying. XD

do you like ask games? 

yes, same as above!

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? 

idk? honestly i have no idea. i don’t keep up with the amount of notes other people have.

do you have a crush on a mutual? 

maaaaybe ;) 

--

if you’ve done this already just ignore me. i always feel awkward tagging people so i’ll just tag the last few peeps that liked my shit. 

@micrathene-w, @dresdendarlin, @kbeefinds, @daisydezem, @thetiasaan, @bordelinski, @skywardoasis, @liwia-sims 

[vivilove-jonsa]

Young at Heart at Oldstones

Since we have some lovely Jonsa-themed WIP Wednesday headers for Modern and Canon fic both, I’m going to share a couple of different things that have been sitting in my big Maybe file collecting dust.  (You can find the Modern AU Headers here)

I don’t see much fic of Jon having a relationship with his grandmother so that was partly what sparked the idea for this one.  Someday, I’ll get enough of it done to start posting on ao3 but here’s a good little bit of it.  

****

“I don’t know about this, Mom.  We’ve not spent much time together since I was a kid.  What do I even say to her?” Jon asked as he had the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder, searching for a clean shirt.

“Just talk. She’ll be happy you came to see her.”

“Yeah but it’s going to be awkward after about five minutes.”

“You can handle a little awkward, can’t you? You’re not a kid anymore.”

She was right. He wasn’t. He was twenty-three and a graduate student at Riverlands University. He could give an hour or two of free time to his grandmother and not whine about it being a sacrifice. “I’m going…once I find a clean shirt.”

Lyanna laughed through the phone, making him smile to hear it. “I know it’s thirty minutes away but it’ll mean so much to her, Jon. I call her here and there but you know it’s…well, it’s awkward with us.”

He knew that. How could it not be awkward? Considering the circumstances of his conception and birth and the strained relations that had arisen between more than just his mother and father, he felt his mother was quite thoughtful for even bothering to call his paternal grandmother.

Speaking of which…

“You know, she has three kids who could visit her.”

“Yeah, she does and none of them visit. Your Aunt Dany is young…”

“Barely younger than me!”

“But she’s always been her father’s daughter at heart and she still blames your grandmother for the divorce.”

“Oh, yeah because Aerys is such a gem,” he said sarcastically.

“Families are complicated, Jon.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Anyway, Viserys can’t visit.” No, his sociopath of an uncle wouldn’t be visiting his mother.  Hard to do when you’re behind bars.  “And your father…”

“Is a self-absorbed asshole who found a retirement community for his mother four hours away from where he lives.” He heard his mother’s sigh and felt guilty for dredging up hurtful things. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. You’re not wrong. She’s so excited you’re coming, Jon. I hope you can enjoy the visit, knowing that at least.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be okay. Love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

** 

Oldstones Retirement Community was not a nursing home although he’d thought of it as one. He’d pictured some old depressing building resembling a hospital with blank eggshell white walls, dingy tiled floors and musty-smelling, hospital-style rooms.

Therefore, Jon was pleasantly surprised to see it was indeed a community, a neighborhood for the elderly with rows and rows of neat individual bungalows with their own little postage stamp yards spread out in an arch around a larger one level ‘community center.’

However, in order to get a pass to enter the gated section where those bungalows were, you had to check in at the center first.

Parking out front, he walked inside the center to get his bearings, the whoosh of the automatic doors giving him a blast of air conditioning on the exceptionally warm autumn day.

He caught sight of a young woman in navy blue scrubs holding the arm of an elderly man as they walked along. Thinking she might be an employee of the center, he approached.

“Hi. I was wondering if…”

His words and his train of thought were effectively stopped in their tracks when she turned towards him with forget-me-not blue eyes and waves of auburn hair.

“Oh, hello,” she replied, a musical lilt to her voice as she looked at him expectantly.

Damn, she was beautiful. She was around his age, maybe a couple of years younger. Could she already be a nurse? Or just an assistant here? 

There was a pattern to her scrubs, cartoon characters he recognized from childhood including Wiley Wolfe. It was cute. She was stunning.

The old guy beside her cleared his throat irritably and Jon realized he was just standing there staring at her and her scrubs.  It’s not like he didn’t know how to talk to women but he felt his mouth going dry while he was drowning in those eyes of hers.

Her expectant smile began to morph into one of concern as the silence stretched on. Say something! Use your words, you idiot!

So unfortunately, Jon blurted out the first words that came to mind. “I’m here to see Gamma.” 

Those were not the words I had in mind.

The beauty’s lips twitched and Jon felt heat flooding his face. Of course, he’d fall back to what he’d called Rhaella when he’d been two (not that he’d ever stopped calling her that when it was just him and her.)

“I mean, I was looking for my grandmother.”

“Oh, well…do you know which bungalow she’s in or…”

“Reception’s over there, kid,” the old man interrupted curtly. “My granddaughter doesn’t have your gamma hiding under her top either.”

“Grandpa!”

Jon’s red face was getting redder but now.  Hers was, too.  “I wasn’t looking!” Well, his eyes had lingered on her top for a minute there. “I was just…I like the wolf bit,” he said, nodding towards her chest. “Wiley was always my favorite.”

The wolf bit?!  ‘Wiley was always my favorite?’  Gods, you are such a dumbass, he thought, rolling his eyes at himself.

The old guy with his shaggy grey beard shot through with hints of red continued to glare at him.  He had a cane and Jon wondered if he was about to use it on him.  At least, she was smiling.

“I’m sorry for assuming. I just saw the scrubs and thought…”

“No, it’s okay. I’m a nursing student, thus the scrubs.  I just came by to see my grandfather today after my classes were done.”

“Checking up on me for your mother, you mean.”

“You know I want to see you anyway, Grandpa.”

She was still smiling but there was an edge of hurt feelings in her voice, too. Jon didn’t like the idea of anyone hurting her feelings although he didn’t even know her name. Yet.

The old man took the hint though and grasped her hand. “I know, darling. Sorry. They’ll help you out at reception, kid.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“Who’re you seeing anyway?”

“Rhaella Targaryen.”

“Rhaella?” he said, his bushy eyebrows raised. “Well, that’s swell. I’m her neighbor, Hoster Tully.”

He held out his hand so Jon shook it.  “Jon Snow.” He looked hopefully towards Hoster’s granddaughter, unable to hide his grin.

“I’m Sansa Stark,” she said, shaking Jon’s hand as well, her cheeks still flushed a lovely shade of pink.  “And I’m glad you have such good taste in cartoons.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, grinning wider.  “It’s nice to meet you both.”  Especially you.

“Have a nice time with your gamma, Jon,” Hoster chuckled. Never living down that introduction then.  “The sweet shop’s open. You wanna ice cream, darling?”  

Jon smiled, thinking his grandmother would likely ask him the same question.

Sansa cocked an eyebrow at him and put a hand on her hip. “Do I want an ice cream or is it you who wants one, Grandpa?” she asked, clearly amused. 

“I’m sure you’ll be reminding me of the doctor saying to watch my sweets, huh?”

“Maybe.”

“I've been a good boy, I swear.  I also remember when you couldn’t say no to mint chocolate chip,” he added in a slightly pleading tone.

“I still struggle to say no to it,” she laughed. “Maybe they have a no-sugar alternative." 

"Blech.  Help me out here, Jon."

"I, uh..."  He looked between them both, Mr. Tully with pleading puppy dog eyes and Sansa with her hand still on her hip.  "I mean, one little scoop’s not so bad and I'll bet they have a variety of options with, um...different sizes and calories, sugar-free and...you know I've never been here before in my life, right?"

They both started laughing and he was mesmerized by the tinkling sound of Sansa's as her eyes sparkled.  

"Well, maybe we'll check out the varieties available, Grandpa," Sansa relented, giving Jon a wink.  Hot damn!  "It was nice to meet you, Jon. I hope you enjoy your visit.”

“Thanks. It was nice to meet you, too,” he replied as they continued down the hallway.

Sansa’s a pretty name. Where do you go to school? Riverlands?  Please, say Riverlands. They've got a nursing program there...I think.  Do you come here often? Can I buy you both an ice cream? Can I have your number? Do you have a boyfriend?  I really do like the wolf bit.  

Naturally, he’d think of a dozen things to say as she was walking away, not that he could say most of those things when they'd just met.

With a sigh, he headed towards the reception desk as Sansa and her grandfather disappeared from his view.

“Can I help you?” a woman wearing pink scrubs, a friendly smile and a name tag that said ‘Yaya’ on it asked.

“Yes, I’m here to see my gamma.” He groaned inwardly as her smile widened. “I mean, my grandmother. I want to visit Rhaella Targaryen.”

“Oh, Rhaella! What’s your name, honey?”

“Jon Snow.”

“Okay, Jon Snow, let’s take a look.” She opened a ledger to nearly the back page, her finger tracing downwards. “Do you have an ID on you, Jon?”

“Yeah.”

He grimaced as he pulled out his wallet. It was possible they asked this of all visitors but he had to wonder if his grandfather and uncle didn’t make this necessary for his grandmother. There was still an Order of Protection in place for his grandfather and Viserys wouldn’t be welcome lots of places, particularly around a potentially physically vulnerable population. Well, I’ll bet Old Hoster with his cane can take care of himself alright.    

Yaya looked it over and then smiled, passing him a slip of paper with a word written on it.

“Hippie?”

“Yeah, that’s the gate’s passcode.  Just use the alpha-numeric keypad to enter it and you can pull your vehicle through.”

“Okay but hippie?”

“The residents vote on it once a month.  They tend to go with something that gives them a chuckle.”

“What was last month’s?”

“Prunes.”

“No shit?”  Yaya’s eyes widened before she threw her head back and laughed.  Jon hadn’t meant to curse in front of a stranger but when he thought about the meaning there…  “Sorry,” he said, failing to stifle his answering laughter.

After they’d settled down again, Yaya asked, “Does she know you’re coming?”

“Yeah, she does.”

“Great. I know she’ll be happy to see you. She doesn’t get…” Yaya trailed off, a soft melancholy settling in her warm brown eyes.

“Many visitors, I know,” he said, shifting guiltily. He’d moved here six weeks ago. He could’ve come sooner. “I…maybe that’ll change.”

“I hope so, Jon. Have a nice visit.”

[mangoofthesea]

Took me a week but I'm here! I was tagged by @abstract-moth

1. Why did you choose your URL?

I decided to do a revamp of my blog last year after having the same blog url and set up for a few years.

I was really into this podcast called You're Wrong About at the time and they had a series on Jessica Simpson and during it they talked about some joke relating to her being made fun of for questioning why a can of tuna had the brand name Chicken of the Sea and i liked the sound of 'of the sea' as the name of something and subed in 'mango' because I really like mangoes and I thought the name as a whole had a cool vibe to it (made these choices all in about 10 minutes the same day I was setting up my new laptop)

2. Any side blogs?

Technically 2 but I don't pose much to them :supernatural-art and spacewordwasaimingforozai, both from different eras of interests

3. How long have you been on Tumblr?

pfffft uhh I wanna say since about 2014 since I've had an account which went unused for around a year then started using it from the beginning of 2015

4. Do you have a queue tag?

sometimes I use q but I will just occasionally queue things really

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

I saw loads of screenshots on fb and pinterest of tumblr posts and they made me laugh and I wanted to get in on that, as well as hearing it was good for fandom

6. Why did you choose you icon/pfp?

It was when I was doing the blog revamp and I had the picture saved in a 'to draw' file and thought it was a good vibe

7. Why did you choose your header?

same reason as above but a meme folder

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

This one that I made before falling asleep and woke up to find a lot of people could relate then its just kept going up

9. How many mutuals do you have?

At least about 20 I think, some I don't interact with or see active anymore so probably more like 15 that I see regularly

10. How many followers do you have?

694 wow nice c'mon guys get me to 700

11. How many people do you follow?

398. I honestly thought it would be more

12. Have you ever made a shit post?

Probably????

13. How often do you use tumblr?

Basically every day minus when I delete the app from my mobile for whatever reason for a couple days and only use it sporadically on my computer and am active less

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog?

Had an argument briefly with someone on a post of mine a few years back about an opinion I had for a show (supernatural) and what they were doing with the plot. I think I technically won it mostly by not getting aggressive and just repeating it was an opinion I had that could maybe happen, but I found it so stressful I deleted all reblogs I had done with the discussion on lol

15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog” posts?

I think its nice to do and personally I really like reblogging basically everything but get that other people don't. It's something that can be nice to do and feels very tumblr exclusive which is why I like it I think

16. Do you like tag games?

I love them! So thanks @abstract-moth it's been fun getting tagged in stuff again as it's been a couple years since that's been consistent for me

17. Do you like ask games?

Also love!

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

I think maybe akaashiscupofwater as they seem present in the hq fandom quite a bit and I got super excited when they followed me

I’m tagging @wonderlandmoonrose7 , @gats-puckish-rogue , @flannel-wearing-warrior (absolutely no pressure though), and anyone else that wants to do this :)

[rpbetter]

Urgh. Okay, full disclosure, I haven't been on tumblr much over the last week or so, because I was one of the people that Raven initially called out after the COAR mess, and it was in the interest of my own mental health to fuck off for a while so I didn't stress myself out into oblivion. So I'm scrolling through most of this stuff for the first time, and talking to other people who were targeted. And pardon my French here, but I'm fucking disgusted at the lengths Raven has gone to assert themselves as a victim, how many people they've affected, and the waving around of something as serious as suicide for brownie points.

I have sympathy for people who overinterpret things in a strictly emotional and mental sense (actual reactions aside) because they lack the maturity. There's always a reason for that, and it's not their fault. And I have sympathy for people if they legitimately feel suicidal. That, too, isn't their fault. If I hadn't been blocked, I would've reported Raven in case their claims were true as well, because yeah, I don't mess around with that stuff either. But what's unacceptable is how Raven acted on those sentiments and behaved towards others, even after people tried to provide perspective. How Raven claimed to be done with the drama, but continued inciting it; how they claimed to be suicidal and had left tumblr, but wrote what amounts to a "fuck you" in their header and were still putzing around on their blog, and were apparently still editing their posts until as late as today; how they claimed to have deleted but only changed the url; how they weaponized all of this stuff and used it as a tool for guilt-tripping. Like, come on. It's okay if you're down in the dumps, but it's not okay to treat innocent people like garbage, and carpet bomb half the RPC. To me, it really feels like there was an intent to weaponize all of their hurt, offense, anger, and suicidal ideations, despite the possibility it did come from somewhere genuine, and that's so harmful to anyone who is actually struggling with depression.

Every time someone weaponizes mental illness in this way, it just makes people more and more apathetic the next time someone is genuinely just hurting, and saying they feel like they're at the end of their rope. And it makes people suspicious of whether those words are being used maliciously, or legitimately. That suspicion and that association is now there, unconscious or not. And every time this kind of stuff happens, the association gets stronger. What happens if Raven does this again? Some people will still report, but some people might just scoff and walk away - people who might've actually acted before. So in a way, that kind of behaviour impacts Raven as much as it impacts other people.

And you know what? They're not the only one dealing with serious shit. I've been suffering from MDD for the last fifteen years, and I've been in the process of changing medications and having little success for months. I've been going through hell offline. I have a shit list of people I want to yell at because they're dragging their feet on really important things I need to function; I'm constantly running a deficit on spoons. Until a week or so ago, roleplay was one of the only ways I could unwind. So for Raven to bully me by sticking that stupid post in my tags, because they needed to make a scene on COAR, which I was obviously going to comment on (like many other people), then to "like" an unsubstantiated callout about me and other innocent people related to that mess, it's only worsened my own mental health. It sounds melodramatic, but really. Someone else mentioned this too, but the fear of being in another callout, and the fear of that first callout somehow exploding, was in the back of my mind all week, despite being away from tumblr. So that was a little anxiety-inducing, much as I tried not to think about it.

And I'm debating whether to return now, or take more time off, and I have no idea what to do. Because that callout post is still in my blog's tag. I'm freaking out because I was planning on approaching some people to roleplay, which is something I rarely ever do, but now I'm concerned that I'll contact someone, they'll look at my tag to get an idea of my writing/partners/who I am, and see the callout post, and immediately dismiss me because even seeing the word "callout" on its own will send up red flags, by unconscious association with more impactful drama. And as long as that callout is up, these fears are going to be there.

That's just not fair.

And Raven's "apology" is completely unacceptable. Like you and others said, it doesn't reach anyone who needs to hear it, because they've all been blocked. I would fucking love an apology if it came from a place of honesty, but am I going to receive one? Probably not. And even for the followers who can still see that apology, it doesn't address anything. It isn't directed to anyone in particular. It doesn't mention the specific behaviours that were wrong on their part. And miss me with the "my intentions were good" part. No, they weren't; going around blocks and sticking shit in peoples' tags is vindictive and entirely intentional in all the worst ways, and shame on them for pretending otherwise, and by leading with such a poor example for many roleplayers, some of whom are in their teens. One of the people who tried to message Raven (they, too, were called out on Raven's blog) was speaking to a nineteen-year old who was completely clueless about the extent of the manipulation Raven was pulling. They thought all of it was normal and acceptable behaviour. That genuinely terrifies me. And while I imagine if Raven was genuinely apologetic, they would've gone to the callout blog and ask them to delete the callout post (attempt it, at the very least), somehow, I don't think that would've happened given all of their prior actions. God forbid something else is going on there.

Phew. Yeah, I'm angry. Maybe I'm just biased and tired. But honestly, I have a right to be. Raven's apology is a handwave, and they know it. It's a slap in the face to me, to you, and to everyone else who was involved in this clusterfuck. They're not the center of the universe. They affected real people, with real problems of their own. Anyways, I am so sorry for this, argh. Really had to get this out, and I didn't want to dump it on discord or somewhere else; I sure as heck didn't want to go to COAR with it. But hey, maybe people here will feel less alone if I added my own account to the mix. The more, the merrier? In a sense, anyways. Sometimes if you feel like you've been singled out, it's nice to know you're not actually the only person it's happened to.

Sorry for saving your reply for last, Anon. It's such an important one, I wanted to be properly thoughtful!

I think that it is going to make some people feel less alone, and there is always some relief in sharing one's trials. That might be especially true when one has been unable to share them anywhere else. It's not like you can address this on your own blog right now, COAR is definitely not a safe place to do so, it's a very isolating feeling that is made worse for having done nothing.

Coming back and being required to wade through this shit was really damn disgusting to me as well, but at least in my case, I had neither been obliged to distance myself for the sake of mental health nor was I treated to the sickening display of drumming up ideas of victimization from someone who victimized me. What I experienced was just incredulity and disgust, I cannot imagine how incensing this must be for you, I am so very sorry. If it makes me angry having a degree of removal and watching in it real time? What you're experiencing...there really isn't a single word to adequately encapsulate that, I'm sure.

You've still expressed so many of the things I've thought and felt. I found all that initial behavior uncalled for, shameful, yet another display of what's actually wrong in the RPC, but it was increasingly upsetting to me the more I looked into it because it did feel a little (a lot) too reminiscent of the sort of bullying experienced in person. It's really something else to be viciously picked at by someone who keeps upping the game until such point as it begins to cause them trouble, then get to be painted the wrongdoer and punished in some way for it because they're presenting as a sympathetic victim. A more sympathetic victim than you, that's really what I mean, I'm just going to say it.

And that was already in swing by the time I got from the launch point to the smoking crater of then current events. I got to Raven's again after bouncing back and forth between their interactions with others, largely from COAR, yes, and the shit on the callout blog...to see...everyone else being blamed in increasingly drastic ways.

Because on tumblr, unlike reality, if you throw out enough times ahead of time that you have disorders people can get behind, you're more sympathetic, not less. So long as one has set that foundation and has others to broadcast it once convenient, any horrible action one undertakes is given a pass. Anyone disagreeing, anyone not tolerating the abuse, is in the wrong now. In the worst possible way, of course.

This whole thing began with incredibly unnecessary bullshit and every, I mean fucking every, further action taken was a new level of fucked up, but the trivializing of and damage done to the perception of mental health and differences is quite possibly the worst. Are those things that need any more of that? It's already such a problem! I already see suspicion and fatigue with this, every time it's given validation, it grows.

Even if I wasn't mentally ill, with one of the disorders that gets vilified even on tumblr, even if I were not autistic, even if I never knew a single person who suffered worse than I do from the the complications they won by way of being born, hadn't anyone I loved that took their lives, this would be extremely upsetting to me. Using the idea that "whatever I do, it's got to be acceptable because I am X" while not caring that anyone else is X, Y, and/or Z. Weaponizing it for bullying and sympathy simultaneously. Way too much. Incredibly gross and harmful, legitimately fucking problematic.

I want people to be taken seriously when they choose to speak of the boundaries their mental health requires, I want muns to be able to say that they are having a difficult time without it coming off (even to the rest of us with mental health conditions) as a ploy for attention/guilting for whatever action they desire be taken by partners, and I want people to take threats of oncoming, serious harm seriously. How are they to do this, when it is continually used as tool or weaponized against others? At very best, it becomes another thing to ignore and scroll by on the dash.

As we've all had the misfortune to experience or witness so recently, once it is weaponized, it's a problem of priority. I've said in damn near every message I've gotten that Raven isn't the only person involved here who has serious shit going on, but like the absurdity with trying to spin an accident as transphobia, or having the audacity to attempt speaking from a place of peace in a way that might benefit everyone, Raven included, resulting in a callout about being against ND people...it doesn't matter. Doesn't matter that any of us are neurodivergent, have serious chronic mental health complications, or are not cisgender. Raven was swinging that around like a flaming sword to drive off bigots real and imagined before we ever got their attention.

Attention they fucking asked for.

Reblogging that post from COAR was just like posting those rules. The intention was to get attention, and it was asked for with extreme hostility. I have no idea how that is coming off to anyone as simply them defending themselves. It was a great moment to either not out themselves as the person in the confession at all, not engage with it, quietly remove the post, or to reblog it and take responsibility in a meaningful way at that point. Can you imagine what a difference that would have made then? If Raven had chosen instead to reblog it and apologize for doing what they had. Just that. No shitty, snide little comments about how they're sorry, but still absolutely correct and here are five reasons why everything they've misconstrued won't be tolerated. Just an acknowledgment of wrongdoing, an apology for doing so, and awareness gained moving forward.

Their decision to interact with that post in the way they did wasn't just more of the same nonsense, it was actively upping the game. I don't really care if it was intentional bait or just continuing to let malicious impulse run free, it was used as bait. Everyone who interacted with that post was effectively consigning themselves to harassment, and if they happened to interact on literally any other topic that group held a passionately opposing opinion on, they were attacked for it. Curiously, it became necessary for them to be harassed by way of the callout blog, but that is getting a little close to off-topic, so, I'll leave it at that.

So, while I initially really wanted to have the appeal to Raven work because their expressions of regret that I was greatly on the fence about being genuine, I'd say those flags were accurate. I cannot believe that someone who took every opportunity to do the wrong thing is genuinely sorry. Sorry for themselves, absolutely, sorry for anything they did, not so much. This constant narrative I got of "they SAID they were sorry" and "they apologized again and again and took the posts down," including from Raven, is incredible. On that last one, they, yet again, couldn't actually address me.

Appropriate response: messaging me or reblogging that post (you know, the rules snippet I found right the hell there still, despite the claim of it being deleted and the final catalyst of me needing to say something after I saw that, nope, surely was not) with the acknowledgment of a single thing I said.

Extra appropriate response: ^ plus going to everyone who could still be located that they harmed with a genuine, individual, private apology.

Inappropriate response that was had: new post, shitty, childish tone like they at once wanted to argue with me and didn't want to drop the act, restating of this apology that had already been deleted and meant exactly shit while it existed, restating of how they deleted this post and couldn't control reblogs, ignoring that I literally reblogged the original copy from their blog.

Apology neither believed nor accepted. Just as it wouldn't be if my nephew came to my house, broke a bunch of my things, said he was sorry while throwing the pieces at my pet, then threw himself on the floor screaming that he said he was sorry when I told him to go have a time out.

(Yes, I absolutely did just make a comparison to a child, y'all can shit yourselves again. It's not my problem if you want to misconstrue "this person's actions are not befitting of an adult" as "Vespertine said autistic people are children!" Fucking miss me with that. I'm an autistic adult who pays my bills, apologizes, doesn't treat people like shit while trying to excuse it by being ND. You're offensive with that shit, and contributing to the negative perception people have of those on the spectrum. Be a good ally today! Don't valid that! Free ninety-nine offer!)

Again, sorry for yourself does not equal being sorry for what you've done. The former can contribute to the development of the latter, but as I said in a response yesterday, there has been no display of that beginning to transpire. I genuinely hope that will eventually be the case because that would be the best outcome, the only "best" outcome at this point. Even if it was two years from now, if it did happen, I certainly would not be kind to people refusing them any such growth in peace, and I hope that, by some distant chance, I get to prove that.

But...stating "my intentions were good" over any part of this is not remotely promising. When? Where? At what point? Oh, right, when you took it upon yourself to label a random mun you took issue with. That's when your intentions were good. Then, when you vehemently needed to defend that point by callouts and individual attacks under the guise of it definitely not being about your pride, no! It was the defense of everyone else! Defending the community by carpet-bombing it, yes. This is not a "the path to Hell is paved with good intentions" situation.

I am so disturbed about the nineteen-year-old mun, my god. I'm telling y'all, my anger and disgust almost reach what I think is a pinnacle, then there's something new like this.

I don't even subscribe to tumblr's ideology that anyone under twenty-five is an actual infant who needs be kept in a protective bubble and forgiven for all bad behavior with infinite kindness, nineteen-year-olds deserve the agency of the adultier adults they are becoming, but it is a transitional age. Especially today. Most socialization and formative ideas take place online, and by the time younger RPers are entering the adult sphere of RP here, they've already got some really unhealthy ideas. About themselves, about others. There is such a demand for rabidly performative action that gets internalized, it shouldn't be being heartily fed by people in the community they might look up to.

At that age, someone like Raven is going to be a person looked up to. They espouse all the right ideas, and it's an age in which aggressive interaction over those things is seen as amusing and correct, no matter how wrong the actions taken are or the basis upon which they are founded. When these people foster an environment of cruelty for questioning, of course, that is not going to be the natural response. The response is now going to be the requirement of being told otherwise with adequate proof.

I have suspected that many of the hateful anons I've gotten were from Raven's even younger followers who feel like it's normal, acceptable, and that everything they're being told by Raven's sales team over at the callout blog is absolutely true. Of course, they're now morally obligated to come harass me for the things they were told I did! I think it's likely that several of the anons people got were from actual minors, which is so many levels of scary and irresponsible. Really great example all around, yes!

Because whether it is one's intention or not, that is potentially exposing minors, or muns who are still close enough to be more negatively impacted, to who even knows what. As well as violating the rules of blogs who do not interact with minors for good reason, setting those blogs up for yet another callout for treating someone they didn't know was a minor the way they did or having "freak shit" on their blog. Setting up the other party to be treated with full hostility as an adult would be. Very cool, very responsible.

There is just so much here that is unacceptable, I don't think people who were not directly impacted or have never had a callout against them understand the results, and that is one more unacceptable thing you've been good enough to talk about.

Even while taking a break from the RPC, it affects you negatively. Wondering what you're coming back to, your blog is no longer a safe feeling space, and there's nothing you can do to "cultivate your blog" to change that. They've taken away the ability to simply block and avoid others, the thing that keeps all of us comfortable here as well as allowing that to be all of us no matter how disagreeable we might be to each other. Callouts negate adult behavior. Callouts mean that one doesn't know where more potential for harassment might be coming from, or how long we might have to be worried about that.

It would be a major concern for me as well about what putting myself out there to new writing partners might bring. What the success of that might be. It's incredibly unfair that they've made finding new people precarious and more unpleasant than it can be anyway. That puts all of the future of your RP here in question, and if you're like me, just dropping a muse, picking up another, and moving to a new URL isn't going to be a good choice for you. It isn't that simple if you dedicate time to a muse for a long period of time, when that's the case, that's the RP you want to do and have laid the groundwork for.

I don't know if it will help at all, but it has seemed to me, over the past several days, that there are fewer people in the RPC who are inclined to believe or support callouts than there once was. I was hoping that was the case, since there is always so much interaction on my posts against callout culture, but until this crap went down, I had no idea just how many people are not positive toward it. It has seemed to be that the people who are inclined to listen to callouts are just louder.

I've also noticed that those people have the same set of red flags, so maybe sharing that will help you or others?

They don't have simple, basic, reasonable Do Not Interacts. It isn't simply asking that minors don't interact because the mun is over eighteen, that muns writing a triggering topic not interact, or that sort of thing. No, it's URL dropping of specific muns, outright links to callouts or "receipts," and an accusatory tone about any topics or types of muns who shouldn't interact. Such as "nasty ass proshippers" or "pedo apologists shipping incest."

Their rules are reflective this as well. A statement cannot be made that they do not write, let's say, toxic ships and left at that. There will be some morality wank present about normalizing or romanticizing toxic/abusive relationships.

There are less assured flags, but literally, anything that stands out as an interest in RPC or fandom-based activism as opposed to an interest in writing, their muses, or even their friendships with a variety of muns. I don't mean a rounded-out interest in things, I really do mean a glaring predominance of buzzword-laden reblogs and PSA's while they've not written a reply, headcanon, or answered a meme in months.

I'm not saying any of that because I feel like you, or anyone else's, judgment is terrible or that you're oblivious to warning signs! It's just that when we've experienced bad situations, it can compromise our ability to see clearly. It becomes easy to see a potential threat everywhere, and maybe that seems contrary, but it's then easy to fail to see real threats from those we're blowing up. We question whether we're being just as judgmental as the people who wronged us, putting words in other muns' mouths and thoughts in place of their own as was done to us. While we still are afraid to be wrong in giving someone an in to ruining our time again.

So, please, don't feel like I'm questioning your intelligence or speaking from a place of ultimate knowledge, never making mistakes in such a choice! I just really hate that you, and many others, are going through this, and anything at all that I can think of that might help you move forward from this utter bullshit you've been through, I've got to try to grab it.

Because, Anon, like all those sharing their experiences these last few days, you sound like the kind of mun we need in the RPC.

You're someone willing to share with others for the benefit of others. You're being honest about your feelings of anger and even the hopeless sensation of whether it's even worth it to try to return, having your progress on and offline stomped on, while still maintaining a sort of fairness and calm that I know is not easy. Because that's the mature thing to do, it's the right thing, and unfortunately, those are usually the harder things to do as well.

You did the right thing in expressing your opinion and doing what people like Raven's group love to be on about, can only do through bullying: not tolerating it. I'd hate for the RPC to lose someone like you!

Just as your message matters to more people out there than myself, I have no doubt that your choice to not quietly allow this behavior mattered to more muns than you'll ever know. I'm sure that none of them would have wanted this result for you, but so many muns have experienced such toxic, bullying behavior over the years in which not a soul spoke up.

Many of you proved something very important with challenging Raven and the callouts blog, that unlike them, it isn't necessary for good people to even know each other to do the right thing. They have to dogpile and engage in cliquish behavior, what they do isn't coming from a place of inner ethics and strength, but what you all did? It's the opposite.

So, not only do I thank you again for sharing and providing the important support of simply not being alone to others, I thank you for being the example to the RPC that people dealing in callouts and generalized shaming cannot be, no matter their platform.

I hope that, whether you choose to remain, leave, or take a very long break, everything you've been dealing with starts to look up. I know it's easy to say things made hollow for their repetition and flippant use, like telling you not to let them win, or that their bullshit just isn't that important. So, I'm not going to say them.

It doesn't work that way when you're dealing with mental health concerns! You can logically know that this is just petty bullshit not worth being run out of something important to you, but that doesn't stop the worry, frustration, or depression. You can have all the determination in the world to hang in there, even the spite to back it up, but neither is a match for the things you cannot control coming from your brain. That is the cruelty of mental illness on the very best of days.

You have all of my respect, support, and genuine sympathy that this happened to you. No one should be allowed to continually and unapologetically go out of their way to throw a wrench into someone's hard-won progress. You did nothing to deserve this, and the people out there worth interacting with are going to be the same ones who will have no question of that.

Lastly, I also hope that some of the anons sharing their experiences have helped you feel less alone, or like you're not just irrationally upset. Please know that you're seen and supported as well! And that you are always welcome to talk more, vent, share successes here.

Thank you, Anon.

[jinterlude]

More Than Enough

↳ Header is made by yours truly, and the photo used can be found here.

—Pairing: Namjoon x Reader (female OC) —Genre(s): Angst, Romance, Fluff, & Slight-Humor —AUs/Tropes: Haikyuu!!Verse, Shiratorizawa Volleyball Captain!Namjoon, Field and Track!Reader, Hyung line are all 3rd years, Taehyung and Jimin are 2nd years, and Jungkook is a 1st year (awe baby) —Warning(s)/Rating: None / G —Word Count: 1,374 —Summary: After blowing their last chance at Nationals before moving on to that University life, Namjoon decides to blow off some steam by running on the track, however, the last person he expected to see showed up and brought a group of friends—and a wheelbarrow?

—A/N: Good morning party people! I am back fulfilling two different drink requests because why not?! Anyway, the first request was made by @jintobean​ who wanted Namjoon + Whiskey & Wine + Wheelbarrow and the second request was made by @ihavetitanium (I can’t tag you uwu so I linked your blog instead) who wanted Namjoon + Hot Chocolate! Talk about a combination of an interesting drabble! I had fun writing this, to be honest! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this! As always, feedback (constructive and/or positive) is always welcome! 

Also, this is written for @bangtan-dreamland‘s Drinks + Drabbles game! Thank you Eris and BHQ for creating this fun net game!

“And that’s the match! Karasuno goes on to Nationals for the third consecutive year!” 

A faint growl emits from Namjoon’s lips as the bitterness from his team’s complete and utter defeat returns. 

His hands ball into a fist. His knuckles practically turn white from the intense pressure. 

Namjoon’s tears well up as he doesn’t want to end his volleyball career on such a sour note. Shiratorizawa’s defeat isn’t how he desires to hand over the team to Taehyung, Jimin, Jungkook, and the rest of the younger players. 

The intelligent captain has planned every detail of their victory until their match against those lowly crows. 

And now? 

No longer will Karasuno be known as the “Flightless Crows.” Now, Shiratorizawa will take that title. The title of being called the “Flightless Eagles.”

Namjoon can’t help but snort at the mere thought of a majestic bird like the eagle becoming flightless. 

“I know that goofy grin, Joonie,” A friendly voice penetrates his entertaining thoughts, “So, what smart joke got you smiling like that?” Asks the voice, who Namjoon registers as his close friend—yours. Well, you’re his non-male close friend. Yoongi will have a heart attack if he hears Namjoon even remotely think that you’ve taken his spot as his number bro. 

Bromances are strange, and a concept that he will never quite grasp. 

Stopping in the middle of his sixth lap around the field, Namjoon stands in the middle of the lane, panting heavily. You quickly jog up to the volleyball captain. 

“___, what brings you out on the field this fine evening?” Namjoon asks, dodging your earlier question. 

You hum in response, grabbing your ankle as you begin stretching your leg muscles. 

“Well,” You pause, gesturing around you, “This is technically my territory since I am a member of the track & field club.” You state proudly, smirking. “So, let me turn that question back to you and ask what brings you out on the field this fine evening?” You ask, smiling sweetly.

Namjoon slowly nods, completely lost for words as that freaking smile of yours causes his heart to skip a beat. Talk about a cliché.  However, the speechless boy swiftly composes himself, clearing his throat as he maintains his usual stoic expression. 

Your quick and witty remarks are one of the many reasons why he harbors romantic feelings for you. 

Well, your witty remarks and the fact that you actually manage to outrank him during exam season. 

For crying out loud, you’re basically his dream girl. Now, if only you’ve chosen to join the girls’ volleyball club. 

Oh, well. 

The track and field club is an excellent second place sports-related club.

Shaking away his inner thoughts, Namjoon rakes his hand through his hair, ignoring the fact that some parts of his hair contain sweat. 

You grimace, “Okay, remind me to ask you to wash your hands before you touch me.” 

Namjoon arches his brow and then looks down at his hand. A short, “ah,” escapes his lips as he quickly wipes his tainted hand against his sweatpants. 

You giggle softly as you playfully shake your head. 

“Well, since you seem kind of jumbled, I’m going to take a wild guess and go with that you sadly lost in the finals against Karasuno. Shiratorizawa will not advance to Nationals.” You say, quickly alarming Namjoon. 

He begins fumbling over his words—a rare sight for the school’s resident Brainiac. Well, one of them. 

Your eyes widen, unsure what to say or even do next. Though, you take a few moments to relish this adorable sight. Unknown to Namjoon, you’ve actually developed a little crush on the scheming captain of Shiratorizawa. You somehow develop this strange infatuation over your high school career. At first, you’ve tried to talk yourself out of this silly little crush. However, that’s proven futile after your track and field announced to the entire club that they’ll be attending one of the volleyball team’s games. 

God, you remember that afternoon so vividly as the game has taken place during yours and Namjoon’s second year. 

To this day, you still recall the intense amount of focus and passion on Namjoon’s face as he relentlessly went after each ball, making sure that it remained in the air. After that day, you finally understand why your classmates say that Namjoon treats each match like a rousing game of chess. 

He is calculating…

He is intelligent…

And he knows how to ensure that Shiratorizawa maintains victory after each match. 

Now, imagine your surprise when word of their defeat reaches your ears. Hence, why you are currently standing next to Namjoon, checking up on him and hopefully cheering him up in the process. 

You don’t need telepathic abilities to know that today’s loss completely crushed Namjoon and the rest of the third years on the volleyball team. 

Not wanting to worsen that mental wound, you suggest a fun race between you and him. 

Namjoon eyes you strangely, “A race? Why?” 

You simply shrug, “Well, I know how competitive you get, and I always wanted to see who was the fastest between us.” You explain with a warm smile. 

Namjoon slowly nods his head, and as he opens his mouth to accept your challenge with a smile so wide that reveals his dimples, you guys hear panic shouts. 

The two of you turn towards the direction of the shouts and see six volleyball club members running down the ramp. It also appears that two of the members are pushing something. 

Wanting to get a better look, you squint, but soon your eyes go wide. 

“Those guys…” Namjoon mutters, suddenly embarrassed to call them teammates. 

You chuckle, “Uh. Do you want to tell me why your friends stole the gardener’s wheelbarrow and are now running as if their lives depend on it?” You question the poor volleyball captain, releasing a few more chuckles that bubble within your chest. 

Namjoon points towards another figure chasing after his good friends, “I’m guessing it has something to do with the fact that said gardener is threatening him as he runs after them,” He slightly shakes his head, “Poor gardener though. He can’t keep up with those six, especially the youngest of our little group.” A long sigh leaves the exhausted captain’s mouth. 

You shift your focus away from the comedic scene, though, you want to keep watching. 

It’s not every day you see a bunch of fellas steal a wheelbarrow. 

“Are you gonna help them?” 

“I mean a good captain would, but since the season is officially over, I’m no longer captain since I passed the title over to Jimin and—” 

“RM! Look, we did what no other team has done and stole the gardener’s prized tool!” One of his friends interrupts Namjoon. You recognize the voice, knowing it belonged to the school’s resident sunshine boy. Jung Hoseok. 

“Oh, wait! Is this girl you like, RM?” questions another friend of his who is exceptionally handsome. Then, you recognize the pretty boy as Kim Seokjin. 

However, his handsomeness doesn’t faze you. What does disturb you is the sole fact that Namjoon may or may not return your feelings? 

Oh, dear lord. 

Crossing your arms, you give the bright-red faced captain a knowing look. 

The shy boy averts his gaze and then narrows his eyes on his close friends. 

“Don’t you guys have to run away from the gardener or something?” 

“We will, but we want to first witness you asking out ___!”

Namjoon growls, but just as he’s about to threaten his buddies, you come to his rescue. 

Lucky for them…

“Tell you what, how about you guys resume your comedy skit and I will tell you what your dear old captain says to me asking him out. Deal?” 

“Say no more! See you later, guys!” The youngest shouts before ordering Jimin and Taehyung to resume pushing the wheelbarrow. 

You and Namjoon stare at their retreating bodies, patiently waiting for the nosy group to be out of earshot. 

Once they are, Namjoon turns to you and asks, ruining your so-called plan, 

“So, how does this Friday night sound?” 

“Sounds perfect. Now, please go save your friends before the gardener hurts them, especially Jungkook. He looks too adorable, and I don’t want him injured.”

“As you wish.”

More Than Enough is copyright 2020 by jinterlude, all rights reserved.

[hillaryschu]

Chapters: 9/9 Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth Characters: Jaime Lannister, Brienne of Tarth Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Pining, Baseball, Coaches, little league, Alternate Universe - You've Got Mail Fusion, You've Got Mail - AU, Twitter, Online Relationship, a boatload of GoT/ASoIaF characters that I didn't want to tag individually, Fluff, Fluff and Humor Summary:

to be read in 90s Movie Trailer RomCom Voice

Meet Jaime. He used to be the most infamous player in Major League baseball but a career-ending injury brought him back into the family business. He hates it. What he doesn’t hate is coaching the best Little League team in Kings Landing.

Meet Brienne. After her father’s death, she left behind a successful career in women’s competitive fastpitch to start over. She’s trying to balance life and love in a new city, all while coaching a down-and-out Little League team.

In a world where everyone is looking to connect, Jaime and Brienne discover the best way to meet someone is to never meet at all. What they don’t realize, is that they already have.

This fanfic exchange season, follow along with Brienne and Jaime as they take to one another on Twitter and battle on the ballfield. Then find out what happens when those worlds collide.

(a You’ve Got Mail AU) -------------------

This is the piece I wrote for the @jaime-brienne-fic-exchange​, a gift for the awesome @the-world-unseen. I was excited to get her because I feel like we have very similar tastes (I could have written her likes/dislikes list). If you haven’t read her work, go check it out (especially Bad Ideas 😍).

I chose two of her three prompts:

any riff on a you’ve got mail AU (we hate each other IRL but are anonymously communicating and actually love each other!)

anything even slightly involving baseball

I have never written ANYTHING this long and it was a huge lift. Having little kids at home means that not only do I barely have any time to write, but also that I can hardly have more than three coherent thoughts in a day. (I also newly think I have ADHD and am going to start working with a coach) POINT BEING this accidentally ballooned into something 10x longer than anything I’ve ever written and 42x the minimum word count. 

Anything in here that is more than slightly above average baseball knowledge was either researched or comes courtesy of my incredible beta reader @brynnmck​​ who not only edited this insanely long piece (the fifth longest), but did a good bit of it last minute, editing while traveling and ALSO while writing the THIRD LONGEST PIECE (and beta’ing other works in the exchange). I’m in awe and so so so so so thankful. 💗

Thanks to @seaspiritwrites​ who was a major cheerleader through writing this. I was immensely buoyed by her squealing. Also: her piece in the exchange is my favorite that I’ve read so far (I’ve read very few): The Shooting Party. Thanks, too, to Cloaca/Laihiriel for being a friend and sounding board.

I have a few pieces I cut from the fic that I’ll end up posting, probably just here on Tumblr. I made this little retro Topps baseball card header. I think I’m going to make J/B baseball cards, too, when I get a chance. Lastly, here’s Jaime’s power ballad Spotify playlist: ✨ GoldenGlove's Solid Gold Hits ✨  Thanks to all of you who were reading along and commenting while I posted chapters, especially @the-world-unseen​. I’m glad you like it! 💕 EDITED TO ADD (because I’m running on no sleep and also a jerk): thank you thank you thank you thank you to the amazing organizers of the exchange. @firesign23​ @nire-the-mithridatist​ and @slipsthrufingers​ (aka Slipso). I am thankful for all of your hard work and nagging and support! ❤️

[raendown]

Pairing: KisameSakura Word count: 1205 Soulmate au: The one where you can take the form of your soulmate's favorite animal at will

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 215

“Have you seen this man?”

Sakura leaned in close with one finger tapping at her chin, giving the poster held out to her a thorough inspection. The rendition was a good one and she was tempted to ask if the man holding it had drawn it himself. Instead she stood up with a mournful shake of the head.

“I’m afraid I haven’t,” she told him. “But if I do I’ll be sure to mention it to someone.” 

“That would be appreciated. I won’t scare you with all the details, madam, but this man is wanted on some very serious charges. Please make sure to alert the authorities as soon as you can if you see him and stay well back!” 

Nodding with a solemn expression seemed like a better response than pointing out that Sakura had never been so cowardly as to run for the authorities in her adult life - it wasn’t very often that she met a problem she couldn’t punch her way through - but that wasn’t something she could expect this man to know. If he hadn’t recognized her on sight then she wasn’t going to risk whatever reaction would come with revealing her identity. 

As he turned to leave the man paused with an expression of great intrigue. “That’s quite a unique cat you have there,” he said. 

“Mn, the truest love of my life,” Sakura told him. The fluffy beast in her lap gave a monstrous purr, beady yellow eyes fixed on the one bothering their peaceful afternoon and then hissing when his glare did little more than elicit a laugh. 

“You sound like my daughter. She got herself a dog a couple years back. Now she says there’s no need for her to find a husband because no man could possibly love her as good as that dog!” 

“She sounds like she knows her own worth,” Sakura hummed. “I prefer cats myself but I can relate to her on the rest.”

The man tipped his hat and waved the rolled up poster in her direction. “Women. You’re all the same. Ah well; if you do see this man I’d advise you to keep as far away from him as possible for your own safety. He’s quite dangerous. But I can see that you’d rather keep to yourself for the rest of the afternoon so I’ll bid you goodbye. Keep a weather eye if you’re planning to travel!” 

With a smile on her face Sakura watched the man go, stroking down her companion’s spine until he was out of sight. Then she looked down at the shopping bags at her feet with a light sigh. 

“I guess I’ve rested my feet for long enough. Shall we go?” A rumbling yowl was her answer, the massive blue cat in her lap jumping down to shake himself out. He wound between her legs pointedly when she started walking until she huffed and shooed him away. “Unless you want me to drop all these bags you’ll fuck off, mister, or else next time I won’t be picking up any fish for you. And you know as well as I do that the market sells fish you can’t pull out of the river yourself so don’t even try that excuse with me.”

After a few more yowls that sounded incredibly close to some very human swear words the cat fell silent, trotting at her heels as she made her way out of the marketplace. Sakura hummed to herself on their way to the edge of town. One of the men standing guard at the flimsy village gates looked at her askance just as he had when she passed him going the other direction a few hours before, squinting his eyes like he couldn’t quite place where he recognized her from, but neither of them asked her to stop and so Sakura continued on her way. By the time he remembered why he knew her face she planned to be long gone. 

Barely a couple of miles in to the deep forest past the gates she stopped to watch her massive blue cat bound ahead, alighting on a knot of drying tree roots. When the cat’s form began to warp and grow she only smiled. 

“Couldn’t you at least try to have a different favorite animal?” Kisame demanded as he shook off the rest of the fur still clinging to his skin. 

“After seeing how cute you look with those little ears? Not a chance.” 

“The next town we stop in I’m buying you a dog.”

Sakura very carefully did not laugh, kind enough to spare what was left of her partner’s tattered ego. It was a monumental effort to choke down her giggles when she reached out to stroke her fingers through Kisame’s hair only for him to butt in to the touch instinctively. He might not like them very much but he was certainly more feline than a man with such shark-like features had any right to be. 

“I don’t think you have any room to judge me on my favorite animal, mister.” Affecting a scolding frown, Sakura set down the bags she had carried all the way from the market and waggled a finger. It was even harder to hold in her smiles when Kisame spun away from her to hide his embarrassment. 

“Sue me, I like fish. Is that such a crime?” 

“You know as well as I do that they’re not fish. They are mammals.” 

“They’re smart. Smarter than most idiot humans. That’s why I like them.”

Lifting one eyebrow, Sakura inched away towards the nearby river. “Oh really? And here I thought they were your favorite because they’re just so cute.”

When her partner spun around again with hands already reaching out to snatch her up, probably to throw her over his shoulder and throttle her bottom as he was wont to do in playful punishment, Sakura leapt in to motion. Before his hands could reach her she threw herself bodily in to the river, trusting the speed of her own transformation to keep her clothing from getting soaked. The fresh water wasn’t actually all that good for her. Her species was one that preferred the ocean salt water. A quick dip just to tease her soulmate wouldn’t cause any damage, though, and so she used the shallow water to build what speed she could then breached the river’s surface with a quick spray and a lengthy chittering sound. 

“Dolphins are badass!” Kisame hollered from the riverbank in a particularly defensive tone. 

He could protest all he liked but Sakura, crashing back in to the water and cutting elegantly downstream, knew the truth. The sharks he had signed a summoning contract were just as much for show as the teeth he’d had filed down in to points for a more gruesome smile. Her soulmate was as gruff on the outside as he was soft on the inside. And only she was lucky enough to be matched with him. She may have been declared a missing nin for following after him once they discovered their bond but day after day, month by month, she grew only more convinced that she had made the right choice. Kisame would always be worth it.