#16 years worth of love with nowhere to go

[jarebear20]

One of the last pictures of Rufus (March 2022) & today's picture of his son (August 2022)

[queers-gambit]

Blue Moon Wreckage

prompt: your husband can often lose his temper and resort to the man he was before you. you grow tired of lashing your tongue, and learn your husband responds better to silence.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!wife!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 4.3k+

note: another stand alone, no sequel

warnings: cursing, talk of child abandonment, vulgar dialogue, old-fashioned views on marriage (maybe idk), not edited. small angst, small comfort. author probably missed some warnings.

The entire city cleaned up in preparation for Princess Rhaenyra's nuptials to the heir of Driftmark, Lord Laenor Velaryon. It was refreshing to see citizens rejoicing in a common theme and going around to hang different decorations; chandeliers of strung florals, wreaths woven and hung, lanterns set all around to create an ambiance in the street.

Romance was in the air.

It put people in jolly spirits, brought them elation, and gave the ability to decompress from the woes of life. Wine tasted sweeter, the food saltier, and many merchants came into town for the week-long celebration of Rhaenyra and Laenor in the hopes of selling enough wares to pay for three of their month's expenses. Every room at the inn was filled, brothels hosting the leftover stragglers; money was simply made in an abundance after taking advantage of the citizens come to celebrate.

And yet, deep within the halls of the Red Keep, not all were so at peace with the state of things.

Maids and servants all skidded around the corridor that housed your bedchambers shared with your husband. The walls almost vibrated with the sheer force of the yelling that took place, and while the sun shone on the rest of the Kingdom, there was a dark shadow over the Red Keep.

Rarely, and it was the truth, rarely did you and Daemon ever fight. He was your best friend, he was the love of your life, you've known him for years, and had long since developed an effective way to communicate. Daemon wasn't easy to deal with, in fact, even to those who knew how to handle him, he sometimes pushed past boundaries and threw curveballs into the mix. You were not immune to his sharp tongue and wicked-fast wit, but in reality, Daemon never actively sought conflict with you, so fighting was incredibly rare - though, not totally unheard of.

Like a blue moon - not totally unheard of, but still considered rare. And in pale moonlight, the ship you and Daemon found yourselves sailing on seemed to crash into a set of cliffside jagged rocks, all but imploding the balance you had found yourselves in.

A shipwreck during a blue moon.

Before you, Daemon was violent and volatile. He was irresponsible, impulsive, stubborn, hotheaded, and blood thirty. Many Ladies all vied for the Prince's attention, but as he grew older, he became more and more reckless and more Ladies started keeping their distance. Expect you. You heard rumor his grandmother, the Queen Alysanne, meant to marry him off to Rhea Royce but your father was almost too smart for his own good. He devised a tantalizing offer that the Crown would've been foolish to refuse - thus binding you and Daemon to fate.

Before you, Daemon wasn't a man. He was just a second son trapped in a shell of his body, full of anger with nowhere to expel himself. A boy with a temper. A lad with attitude. He was knighted at 16, an impressive feat, and not a full moon cycle later, you and Daemon wed. He wasn't easy to love, but that was because he was so defensive in his life living in his older brother's shadow.

Before you, Daemon never believed in love or acceptance. Yet everyday he spent with you, he was reminded of his value and worth as a person - not just a Prince, or a Targaryen. You worked every day for his trust and confidence, and once you had it, it was an unshakeable foundation. Daemon was everything to you, and before him, you were shy and awkward and overwhelmed in the glaring eyes of court. Now, you were confident, humble, and weeping with power.

You kept Daemon balanced in his head and heart.

Before you, he was like a wild dog. Now, he was domesticated for you and you alone. He realized how much his recklessness hurt you and never wanted to be the cause of your pain, so, Daemon cleaned himself up. Most days, he was perfectly content in life, and others, he was still as stubborn as ever, but every so often, Daemon loses sight of himself and resorts back to who he was before you.

Fighting with Daemon was always difficult. He wasn't accustomed to losing, so, when you two went toe-to-toe, he was out for blood. He loses himself in his anger, fueled only by the need to cause the most harm with his sharpest words. Daemon jumped to conclusions faster than a grasshopper hops from blades of grass because he was vastly insecure, and it took most of your will to restrain your anger enough to soothe him of his worries.

Daemon hated fighting with you, and you hated fighting with him. There was never a true victor because you both hated it so much. Perhaps that was why your once-in-a-blue-moon fights turned so gruesome and emotional; you both hated fighting that it made you fight even harder.

How you came to this, you didn't remember. One moment, you were enjoying a morning feast with your husband, and the next, you were locked in your chambers, lashing at each other's throats with hateful words.

"I do not understand!" You sobbed. "You agreed to this - "

"No! No, I did not! You did not consult me on this matter, you just accepted responsibility. For the both of us!"

"He is my little brother, Daemon!"

"He is not our responsibility!"

"He is now!"

"Because you took action without a word to me!"

"I did not need to consult you; he is my blood."

"But not mine."

You scoffed, "For fuck's sake, Daemon, do you hear yourself? You are whinging over a child - you're bloody jealous of a child! Where is the man I married?"

"I have done all I am expected and required as a husband, it is you who refuses my seed. Who refuses to grow our family!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Now you want a baby!? Married ten years, we are, and NOW you want to whinge about babies!? I am busy in case you've not bothered to look around every once in a while," you snapped, "and I understand having a baby is not ideal right now!"

"So, you will not take my seed because you are busy raising another man's?"

"He was my father - oh, Gods be good, why're we fighting over this?"

"You need to understand, he is not mine," Daemon seethed. "He will never be mine and I do not wish to treat him as such. The life and luxury we live in are not meant for a child that is neither of ours."

"What would you have me do!?"

"Send him to your brother."

"Oh, spare me this notion, Daemon! I will not hear of it! No! We are not discussing this again and again!"

"You mean to disobey me then, wife?" He snapped, making your mouth snap shut. "Huh? Think you're immune to the duties you must uphold as a woman? Think that allows you free rein? You are luckier than most that I allow you to have a fucking opinion; do not abuse my generosity. You want the child to stay, fine, I hear you, but I say he goes. Guess who's want will triumph?"

You blinked several times, unable to find words.

"Nothing to say?" He taunted. "That is a first, wife, you surprise me. In your moment of silence, do well to listen to me now: the child goes, or I do. You either get rid of the child or I will remove myself from this sham of a marriage."

"I do not recognize you, you are not my husband," you finally sighed. "Do me a favor and figure you may speak to me again once you're ready to apologize. If not, I assume by week's end, we will be celebrating both Rhaenyra's wedding and our annulment."

"Too much time has passed for such - "

"I know a Septon that will forge documents. Now," you eyed him up and down, "once more, do not think to speak to me unless to grovel for my forgiveness."

"You will die before that happens."

You nodded slowly, then shrugged and dodged around him to exit the room. You could not bear to be around him any longer, storming away to where your small brother was being looked after by a Septa. You did not speak to Daemon the rest of the day, feeling yourself brimming with anger as you replayed his words.

How dare he find insult in your desire to do "the right thing" by caring for your brother after your parents met their untimely demise? How dare he cite "wifely duties" to you? Just how dare he!

The day was supposed to be merry. It was supposed to be lighthearted and fun and romantic and exciting and gossip worthy. Yet now, you were feeling annoyed, frustrated, weighed down, and plain stupid. You felt alone. You felt tired and worn thin. Your little brother, Jamie, always put a smile on your face, but now, you were simply ready to cry just by looking at him. This planted the seed of resentment towards Daemon, and through the day, only festered.

"My Lady?" You glanced in the mirror to see your hand maiden, who was doing your hair, humming in question. "Alyria has arrived, she will watch young Lord Jamie for the evening."

"Good, thank you," you sighed. "Has Daemon come around?"

"No, my Lady."

"Hmm."

Not 30 minutes later, you were walking towards the decorated throne room with your hair braided back, make-up laid perfectly, and your dress a dark grey, black, and Targaryen red.

However, before you could walk in, someone called your name. You paused, letting Daemon approach you, his eyes raking you in as he realized you dressed to match him. "You look beautiful," he complimented, but you just stared; then sighed through your nose and straightened up. "What? You're not speaking to me?"

"I told you the terms in which you should find it acceptable to speak to me again."

Daemon scoffed, "You're still on that?" You did not answer, just stared forward. "Fine, be that way. Come," he offered his arm, but you brushed past him to finally enter the throne room. Your names were announced, albeit begrudgingly because most in the castle harbored ill-will towards Daemon. They just felt bad for you, not knowing of the man you had grown to know and love unconditionally.

You took long strides to shorten your journey, but behind you, your husband just sauntered in as if the center of attention. However, no matter where he was, Daemon was always the main character, and he was quite the peacock in flaunting himself. You bowed to the King and his daughter, heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra. You took your seat beside the Hand of the King, Ser Strong, as Daemon climbed the stone stairs with a smug expression before taking the seat beside you at the very end.

Needless to say, Daemon was not accustomed to being ignored. You did not look at him, did not speak to him, ignored his direct questions, even went as far as to slapping his hand away when he reached for your thigh. When your hand rested on the table and he laid his over yours, you pulled it back.

It drove Daemon absolutely up the wall.

"And how fairs your brother, my Lady?" Ser Strong asked gently. "How does he like life in the Capital?"

"He adores it," you hummed with a nod. "He is learning so much and loves watching the boats in the harbor."

"How old is he now?"

"Just shy of 4, my Lord."

"Well, what would the little Prince like for his nameday?"

"Oh, uh, no, he's not a Prince," you spoke gently.

"No? Well, I suppose until Viserys recognizes him."

"Well, Daemon's made it clear that if I do not give custody of my brother up, this marriage is null and void, so," you clicked your tongue cheekily, sipping your wine, "no use in titles."

You knew others heard you and smirked to yourself. Another gulp of wine and you were standing, excusing yourself, and moving onto the dance floor. Rhaenyra giggled when you gave her a playful twirl before taking your place with a partner, falling into rhythm with those around you. The entire time, you felt Daemon's eyes burning into you.

You didn't care. You carried on as if there wasn't a ring on your wedding finger weighing like a full fish net, like you weren't burdened by your marriage.

You danced with a Tully, Stark, Frey, and Lannister boy, all who looked at you like a delectable treat but were being effectively ignored, just like your handsome, white-haired husband. It was a lively time, twisting and turning and leaping and being lifted in ture with the instruments playing. Rhaenyra caught your eye a few times, grinning and giggling as she, too, let herself destress in the glee of the festivities. However, when the Frey lad spun you around, you had thought of the devil so much, there he bloody was.

Your husband smirked down at you, "You look startled, little bird."

You scoffed and moved to go around him, but Daemon's hand was darting out to grab your upper arm. He pulled you further into the crowd to use them as a layer of protection, turning sharply to leer over you. He snapped in High Valyrian, "What're you playing at? Hmm? You mean to embarrass my entire family by being so cold and shrewish?"

You scoffed, glaring at him for a moment before he reached forward to grab your neck and cheek in a possessive hold. "I dare you to raise a sharp word at me," he sneered quietly, keeping you in place. "You have ignored me all fucking day, these games are at an end. I have always known your voice to be a sweet remedy, do not deprive me of it longer."

"Then apologize," You snapped.

"For what? Speaking the truth? That you refuse to sire my children because you are too occupied with your wee brother? For taking in a child without so much as asking me? Tell me, what am I apologizing for?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, and swatting his hand from you. However, just as you meant to walk away from him, someone gasped and yelped from the people around you. Daemon brought you into his chest as a sudden crowd thickened, two bodies hitting the floor in a gruesome fight. This encouraged others to get rowdy, and before you could comprehend his actions, Daemon was stooping low to hoist you over his shoulder and stride away.

When out of the fray, Daemon slowed himself enough to set you down at the base of the stairs leading to the Royal banquet table, both his hands going to your cheeks. He panted lightly, looking you over, "All right? You hurt? They touch you?"

"No, I'm okay," you sighed gently, reaching up to hold his wrists in a brief show of affection. However, the crowd only grew in size and aggression; the Royals all taking refuge on the elevated landing to take a headcount. Not a moment later, Ser Harwin Strong, the Hand's eldest son, was emerging from the crowd with Rhaenyra hoisted up his shoulder.

But your attention was drawn elsewhere. You parted Daemon's side to get under Viserys' arm, lifting him up slightly as he coughed into a handkerchief. You frowned when you saw the blood, his eyes meeting your wide ones. You asked the only question you could think of, "Does Daemon know?"

"No," he matched your tone in a whisper.

You nodded and assisted him into the closest chair. After the death of Ser Laenor Velayron's paramour (Ser Joffrey, was it?) the hall was cleared of everyone to only leave the immediate family. In hopes of avoiding future turmoil, it was decided that the Realm's Delight, Rhaenyra, was to wed the Sea Snake's son, Laenor, now instead of at week's end. Viserys asked his brother to stay but you were quick to bow out, promising it was a family affair and you should get ready for bed anyways.

Daemon looked close to protesting your departure but was unable to utter a single word, only watching you scamper out of the throne room as the High Septon finally arrived.

Rhaenyra and Laenor married in front of his mother and father, Rhaenys and Corlys, and his sister, Laena. King Viserys was there with his brother Daemon and wife Alicent, leaving only the Hand present to pose as "unbiased witness".

Further into the castle, you collected your brother, Jamie, and quickly got him ready for bed. Your heart felt heavy with guilt as you looked at him, understanding on a deeper level that if it came down to it, you'd do anything to keep Daemon in your life... And if he said your brother had to go or he did, well, you feared to find out if he was serious.

Jamie fell asleep on the long bench at the base of your bed with a fire crackling in front of his face. He had fallen asleep listening to you read, your emotions catching up to you to let you finally sob quietly while preparing for bed. You hated the idea of losing either Daemon or Jamie, and the fact that you had to choose? It felt impossible. So, once ready for bed, you tied on your dressing robe and bent at the waist to kiss Jamie's forehead. You then found yourself standing at the floor-to-ceiling window, wine in hand, staring out into nothing as you were wrecked emotionally from considering Daemon's ultimatum.

You were overwhelmed.

The door opened behind you and your eyes screwed shut. You took an even breath in, heard the door shut quietly, and then turned to spy your husband already staring at you. His face was neutral, passive, and you knew he was sizing you up just as you were him; both waiting for the other to make the first move.

Your resolve crumbled.

As if your minds were connected by a string, you surged forward as Daemon took a few steps toward you, meeting in the middle, and wrapping your arms around one another. Daemon held your waist tightly as yours tied around his neck in a vice grip, breathing in his scent that seemed to mingle permanently with the smell of dragon. He felt gentle trembling from contained sobs, soothing you with hushed cooing; hand petting the back of your head.

When you pulled back, it was only just enough to find his lips; drenching yourself in sheer relief at the familiar taste and feel of your husband. Just before you could whimper you were sorry, truly being unsure what you were actually apologizing for, when he beat you to it.

The space between your lips was filled with Daemon's rushed words, both his hands cradling your cheeks as he spoke, "I'm so sorry, my love. I am. I am truly so sorry. I hate fighting, I hate us fighting, it just feels so fucking wrong, I'm so sorry."

"No, it is I who am sorry, husband."

"Nothing to apologize for," he rushed, forehead glued to yours as he moved you backwards to the bed. "You do not apologize to me; you have done no wrong. It's me, I am the one who should grovel. I do deserve your kindness; I am so sorry for what I've said." He took a long breath, just holding you carefully, "I was out of line."

"No, you were right. I did not consult you; I should have. It is not just you or I in this, but the two of us together. I shouldn't have acted without so much as a word."

"It is okay," he assured softly, "it is more than all right by me now. I just," he sighed, "I needed to think, process a little. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, I should've listened to you and been a supportive husband, but instead, I just fought with you." He frowned, petting down your face with a dainty finger. "We fight because we care, but Gods do I hate it."

"I do, too," you whispered. "Can we just," you sighed, "go to bed or something? I'm exhausted."

He nodded, glancing at the foot of the bed before looking back at you, "One more thing."

"Hmm?"

"We will talk to Viserys in the morning about recognizing Jamie."

You frowned, "Well, hang on, I think I understand your point, too, Daemon. Listen, yes, I want us charged with Jamie's care, but I do not wish to replace his parents."

"He should still have a title, a place at court. Access to tutors and such."

You smiled fondly, whispering, "That is the man I married."

Daemon prepared for bed as you check Jamie, finding him fast asleep still. Your husband came to bed after blowing out all candles, leaving the fire simmering and you both under a single linen sheet. He laid on his back with you flush against his side, both hands holding your form and tracing idle patterns.

Every so often, he'd squeeze you tightly and kiss your forehead, but otherwise, you both just laid in peace. However, Daemon broke the silence, "I did not mean to cause you harm. I just felt panicked, I think, after the war."

You nodded with understanding, "Our time is on the horizon, Daemon, I promise, I just needed to find balance with Jamie. I've never been a mother before, 's very odd."

"Perhaps we can learn together, I've never been a father," Daemon offered softly. "I fear I have not been entirely welcoming."

"You've time to remedy it," you urged softly. "But you are not obligated."

"He will be our shared responsibility."

You smiled against his chest. "So, tell me of the wedding."

"Nothing special," he sighed. "Viserys fell ill. And I do mean literally fell."

"What? Is he all right?"

"Yes, he's being seen to... But I was thinking..."

"Of?"

"Us. Our family."

"Hm, and what of them, my love?"

Daemon sighed, reaching for your cheek in order to find your lips in the dark. "We will leave," he whispered, licking another kiss to your lips. "We'll go across the Narrow Sea together, raise a family away from the politics and chaos."

"You would miss your family."

"I would rue staying in this city. Away from here, we'd have liberties and freedoms Kings Landing does not offer us, nor our kids."

"I will think on it."

When morning broke through the window of consciousness, Daemon realized you were still sound and dead asleep, but there was something or someone poking his arm in an annoying repetition. When he blinked awake and looked to the culprit, he smiled slightly at Jamie. "What's wrong, little lad?" He asked quietly, voice heavy and hazy with sleep, seeing tears fill the kid's eyes.

"I-I didn't mean to."

"Mean to what?"

"I wet the bed," he frowned, looking at the lounge he slept on all night. "I didn't mean to. It was a scary dream."

"It's okay," he whispered, glancing at you before standing from bed. "C'mon, it's all right, we can clean it."

He nodded and let Daemon sit him at the bottom of the mattress, some two full feet from touching you. Jamie watched Daemon work, gathering any linens to set aside to be washed before plucking the child into his arms. He took his to the washroom and got him cleaned up before redressing him for the day, Daemon quickly doing the same, and then the two left for the day.

You slept while Daemon took Jaime to breakfast. You slept while the two ate and made merry; getting to know each other. You slept while Daemon answered little Jamie's questions. You slept while Daemon offered to introduce him to Caraxes, his dragon.

By the time you were awake, dressed, and approaching the mess hall, Daemon and Jamie were leaving to head for the Dragon Pit. When they saw you, Jamie grinned and squealed, "Sissy!"

You grinned when he rushed for your legs, greeting him with enthusiasm. You hoisted him onto your hip as Daemon approached you, pausing to lean in and kiss you. "Where are you two lads off to?"

"Dragons!"

You chuckled, "Yeah? Uncle's taking you to see the dragons? You're very lucky, not many people get to see them up close."

"Would you care to join us?" Daemon offered.

"No, no, that's quite all right. Thank you, my love, but perhaps this is best kept to a boy’s trip," you quipped, pecking Daemon's lips. "Bring him back in one piece, please."

"Of course," Daemon agreed, taking Jamie's hand when you set him on the ground. He stole one last kiss before leading Jamie away; where you watched them walk away and felt something stirring in your gut; suddenly come alive with tingling electricity. Instead of venturing into the mess hall, you instead continued your way to where you could meet the Grand Maester for a series of tests.

Learning you were pregnant was surreal, but incredibly elating. You were humored by the fact that, just hours ago, you and Daemon feuded for this very reason. However, after simply seeing your husband and little brother get along so effortlessly, you had no doubt in your mind you could handle this. Worrying about having Jamie and a newborn so close together was valid, of course - but it wasn't something you actually needed to worry about now.

Plenty of families had children with shorter age ranges, but none of that matters now - not when you were so explicably happy. All that was left to do now was tell Daemon and Jamie.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[tsibeyantiger]

I had the inconvenience to read a post where it said that percabeth was a bad ship because they don't seem to LIKE each other and I'm like??????????? How can anybody not get THAT? Like seriously, think about it for just a minute.

Imagine you are Annabeth. Your family pretty much abandoned you. Your newfound sister died so you could make it out alive. When you were just seven years old. It is hard for you to trust anyone because you keep on losing who matters to you. And you know about the prophecy and that you won't leave camp until the kid from the prophecy shows up (if Chiron hasn't said that, I'm sure Annabeth was able to connect the dots). The kid who's gonna die when he turns 16 to save Olympus OR destroy it. So you're NOT supposed to like him, even though you know your pathes will cross. You expect him to be a son of Zeus, which would be fine. You can be his deputy in battle, just as your mom is Zeus', and when he dies, it's gonna be "Farewell, my lord, it was an honour to fight under your command". Not very delightful, but you are used to worse.

Then Percy shows up. And he is a son of POSEIDON. Not at all what you expected, yet it's your destiny to interact somehow with him. What if he turns out evil? What if you're the one who HELPS him destroy Olympus? Okay, no, no, no, stop. You are NOT SUPPOSED to like him AT ALL. But- he is kinda charming. Not the arrogant, wrath filled rowdy you'd expect. A troublemaker, yes, but he's trying to be nice to everyone, always roots for the underdogs, doesn't care about your parents' rivalry and is incredibly skilled yet totally unaware of it. You go on the quest. You safe the world. And you realise he is kind and brave and just and will never turn evil. This is the hero who will die while defending Olympus. And you're the fool who couldn't avoid falling in love with him.

Fast forward. Percy keeps on doing annoyingly cute and noble stuff you wish you never saw because it makes you like him even more. The photo. Tyson (you don't like him, but it IS wholesome that Percy chose to be his friend when no one else was). The moment he gave Clarisse the fleece. Then you get kidnapped and he travels across the whole country to save you, even lifts the sky for you. And then he says he chooses the prophecy and you give up all hope (you've spend hours and hours thinking whether you'd want Thalia to die or Percy, and you feel so guilty for it). He doesn't even know the full meaning, but you are just sure he'd make the same choice if he knew it means death, all to protect a little boy he hardly knows.

And you're like: Fuck this. Too late to run from your feelings. You're already in love. Your heart's gonna be broken anyways. So, you decide to try your luck. If you're gonna miss him for a lifetime, it shall be worth it. And THEN, suddenly, Rachel shows up. Like, this is no average teenage love triangle drama bullshit. OF COURSE, Annabeth explodes like a volcano. Any of us would.

Meanwhile, Percy doesn't know shit and is just hella confused. He doesn't know the content of the prophecy, doesn't know much about Greek mythology and whenever he does, he doesn't care. He just gets the impression that Annabeth hates him, yet somehow seeks his company. Percy has close to zero confidence, due to him also being often abandoned and ending up as a failure and an outsider, so it's probably the second part that's harder to understand, but he tries to make the best of it. He is kind and patient, offers Annabeth his friendship and ultimately, she accepts. Not for a second he'd imagine she might be in love with him, Because This Is Not How People Behave. From his perspective, Annabeth tends to act like a bitch out of nowhere, sometimes she pushes him away, sometimes she wants him to come closer. He accepts this somehow, but of course he gets frustrated sometimes. Who wouldn't?

But still he never even thinks about going low contact. He never questions their friendship, he always wants Annabeth as close as possible. And people say they don't LIKE each other? Please!

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 11/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

I'm sorry if this feels a bit fast-paced but I am not writing 1 month's worth of Luci's journey on Earth alksjdlas

Everything is tying up very nicely.

The ending is already being written and this chapter has a lot of clues on what will happen next.

To any ARTISTS or WRITERS who want to make something based on this AU, you have my full permission! All I ask is I want to read/see it!

Your reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated.

And feel free to chat with me if you have any theories or AUs or this AU of your own!

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

The thing about being immortal and whose existence started since the beginning of well- everything- is that it is literally just a concept.

Centuries feel like minutes. Days into seconds. Seconds into basically nothing.

Hell, the only reason why Lucifer knew 7 years had passed since Lilith left was because he was counting. He wanted to be reminded of the pain of losing the first person he ever loved.

Call him a bad father but he genuinely doesn't know how long since he has seen Charlie.

He knows it's been a while but he didn't realize just how much longer it was. He missed out on so many years of his daughter's life because he couldn't stop being fucking sad.

Charlie probably has something to say about that mentality but he can't help it.

So when Lucifer takes a whole month of scouring Earth before he finds what he's looking for, he curses himself.

Didn't he just arrive on Earth a few hours ago? Now that he thinks about it, following that wild duck chase (it's goose, dear) should've been a dead giveaway that he was taking too long.

He should've known seeing the sun and moon appearing at that many intervals meant days were flying by.

It's not entirely his fault. Pride's days and nights are basically the same- plus it's not like he needs sleep. It was bound to fuck up his body clock.

Judging by how there are no effects in the human world yet, they're still probably keeping the Roo situation at bay. He's grateful for his siblings but it only makes him move more urgently.

Lucifer arrives at a grassy field on a hill in the middle of nowhere.

It was warm, but the wind is making sure the skin doesn't burn by the sun's rays. He looks around and spots a woman-like figure under the shade of the line tree- her short hair dancing with the wind.

Lucifer walks loudly to her but she doesn't acknowledge his presence. Only when he is standing in her line of sight does she react.

Unknown: Hello, Lucifer.

Lucifer: Goodie.

The Good of Humanity. The being he unintentionally corrupted by his actions.

Goodie: To what do I owe the pleasure.

Lucifer: I need your help. It's about your sister.

Goodie: Hmm? Well then. Come sit. It appears we have a lot to talk about ~

Lucifer sits and takes a deep breath.

Lucifer: Roo- Roo is breaking out. It's only a matter of time before she fully escapes and we are not strong enough to seal her back up again with her stronger state. Hell will-

Goodie stops his rambling by placing a hand on his.

Goodie: Calm now, angel.

Lucifer:… sorry.

Goodie: You say my sister is coming back?

Lucifer: Yes. She's eating her way out of hell and if we don't stop her soon, my people- my family are going to die. I am never above begging so please- help us.

There was a pregnant pause before Goodie spoke up again.

Goodie: I do not have the power you are looking for.

Lucifer: But..

Goodie: But! I never said I would not help.

Lucifer: you'll help Hell?

Goodie: I am the embodiment of good. I can see how much of it someone has inside their heart and right now… your heart is as full as it is pure.

Lucifer: Then how can we-

Goodie: I can lend you something that shall be enough to contain her. But for this to work, I need one thing.

Lucifer: What is it?

Goodie finally meets his eyes. He felt like he was looking at everything he destroyed- the failed project that is humanity.

Goodie: You.

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

What to look forward to in Part 12:

Luci comes back to hell with Goodie in tow.

Some conflicts started by the overlords

The Lucifer finally gets involve in the ritual

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

I woke up this morning and saw I had a message in my inbox on AO3, presumably about by new fic, and was excited to see the feedback.

When I read what they wrote it was a small comment that said "stop using sudowrite".

Had no idea what that even means, so I had to look it up and found out it's some form of a writing AI.

Absolutely fuming.

I want to make something abundantly clear right now:

I have not been hand writing and editing all of my own stories, hundreds of pages worth of personally hand written or hand typed content for the past 16 years, only to get accused of using any form of lazy ass writing AI now.

This is what I love to do. For fun.

I put in a lot of unpaid time, creativity and energy into my writing and editing. The only thing I ask for in return is participation from the fandoms I love, be it via thoughtful feedback or valid criticisms.

But this is neither of those things. This is just an outright, baseless lie against the art that I have worked so hard to make myself, and I won't be undermined or discredited.

There's anger, and then there's whatever space I am occupying well past it right now.

It's infuriating to pour hours of my love, thought and creativity into original content only to have someone come out of nowhere and try to tell me I've been having an AI do it, especially 16 years deep.

Bitch please.

I also found out that app came out in 2020 . . . As I mentioned, I published my first K/S story in 2008 as Ruby JW on the K/S archives, and my first fanfic on fanfic.net was published in 2007 as luigi_is_stellar.

I invite anyone to peruse my decades-long collection of independent content that I have single-handedly accomplished well before such an app even existed, then come back to me and try to tell me that what I do here isn't authentic.

I don't usually get spicy, but when it comes to the art I spend hours writing and drawing independently with my own blood sweat and tears, yeah. I'm going to get spicy.

I do far too much unpaid work out of passion and love for this fandom to have such a serious accusation flung my way out of nowhere.

It's the first time in my 16 years of writing for this fandom that I've ever been accused of plagiarism, and you best trust and believe that I don't take that accusation lightly. I work too damn hard to let someone discredit the work I do personally in such a baseless manner.

Anyway, that was discouraging AF. I am boggled to learn that AI writing is even a thing, no less someone coming out of the woodwork to try to accuse me of using it 16 years into story publishing when I literally teach academic honesty and writing ethics in my line of paid work as an English professional.

Genuinely: Do you know who you're talking to?

A bit of background on me:

I come from a not-so-wealthy family who could not afford to pay to put me through school -- I paid for that all on my own. I had to earn my University English degree, one of four University degrees I hold on my own work and pay alone, without so much as a tutoring session or handout from home.

Not once would I have jeopardized everything I worked so hard and paid for out of my own pocket as a poor ass uni student working two jobs and doing night classes just to phone it in plagiarizing, not on one ounce of my work.

That was all me.

I've handwritten 3 MLA essays in under three hour exams BACK TO BACK, immediately followed by back-to-back Biology exams & a final lab where I ALSO had to write multiple essays and switch from MLA to APA mode within the span of 6 hours.

Those were all bound in handwritten yellow booklets well before we ever had Google Docs, Grammarly, formatting suggestions, or even regularly brought/had access to laptops in UNI. I did my work by hand.

I earned my degrees in English and Biology AT THE SAME TIME before I even turned 24. I earned a double major handwriting my own work papers like my life depended on it, and you actually think I'm about to phone it in now?

Step to me like that again, young blood. I ain't the one.😂

Anyway, I digress.

Ya girl ain't here to fight BC y'all know I tend to be very easygoing, full of humour, and I love to joke around in the fandom. I'm pretty wide open to opposing opinions or even criticisms. But this is unfounded slander, and I won't be taking that on the chin.

When it comes to my work, I take that very seriously, and I don't play around. My late father once told me that "The work you do and the degrees you earn are yours and yours alone, they can never take that education from you." I live by that sentiment, and have done so by putting forth honest work.

Be it paid or unpaid work, it's my work. Periodt.

It is an unfathomably disheartening and insulting message to receive as someone who writes all their own stuff themselves, draws all their own fanart themselves, does their own photo edits themselves, edits their writing themselves, and has never even used so much as a single outside beta reader/editor for my work. Not once. The art, the writing, the editing -- It's all me.

Bottom line:

Say you do or don't like my work, that's cash money and we good, whether it's your cup of tea or not.

Butt know that it is my work.

I will not put all of this free time, effort and love into my work only to be accused of lazily ripping the content that I have spent hours writing and personally editing from somewhere else.

And on that note, consider my PSA rant ended.

[adancedivasmom]

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader (no physical description, however it is implied she hasn’t lost her baby weight)

Rating: Explicit 18+ (By proceeding to read beyond this warning, you are agreeing that you are 18 years or older)

Content: Lactation kink, smut, frottage, mention of abandonment, body insecurity, pet names and name calling (slut is used once), Dave York is his own warning

Word Count: 2K

Summary: After a hectic morning and barely making it to work on time, you realize you forgot your breast pump at home. You haven’t nursed or pumped in 16 hours and worry you won’t make it through your important afternoon meeting. Luckily for you, a certain handsome DIA agent knows just what to do and offers his assistance.

(This takes place before the events in The Equalizer 2 and Dave is divorced in my au.)

A/N: A huge thank you to @toomanystoriessolittletime for posting this idea on Discord and for not minding that I took and ran with it (this is all their fault really). Thank you to @ozarkthedog and @firstofficerwiggles for reading this over for me, offering their kind words, and telling me to go for it and post this. Also, special thanks to my fellow Dave York Nasties for their encouragement. I love you guys!

This is the first fic I've ever written, and I'm nervous. Please be kind. 💝

REBLOGS WOULD BE LOVED AND APPRECIATED

No, no, no, no, no…

This can’t be happening.

For the fifth time, you look underneath your jacket in your office.

It’s not there.

Your breast pump bag is not there.

You think back to your crazy morning. Somehow you managed to turn the volume down on your phone alarm. You never heard it and slept in.

Your son, bless his heart, had just started sleeping through the night a couple of days ago.

After throwing on your blouse and favorite flowy skirt, hastily brushing your hair and teeth, you flew to your son’s room.

He was still sleeping as you rushed into his nursery to get him dressed for the day. He greeted you with the biggest smile, kicking his legs and reaching for you.

It was times like this that made the challenge of raising him on your own worth it. His father had skipped out on you a month ago after informing you he no longer felt attracted to you.

No, none of that, you told yourself. You did not have time for self-pity right now.

Once you finished changing your little bean’s diaper and dressing him, you tried to feed him, but he fussed and refused to latch on. 

Most likely, he could sense how stressed you were.

Not a problem, you told yourself. Your mom had extra bottles and an ample supply of your breast milk in her freezer. Everything would be okay.

After dropping your baby off at your mom’s house, you drove to work and made it there at 9 am.

You threw your jacket and purse on the extra chair in your office and barely had time to unlock your computer when the HR supervisor knocked on your door. 

“Brian called off. I’m going to need you to give the morning and afternoon presentations,” she briskly informed you and quickly walked away.

Great, just great, you grumbled to yourself. You had one hour to prepare for the staff meeting to review the new health care benefits package the DIA was changing to at the start of the new year.

You bolted for the conference room and managed to be ready in one hour when your coworkers started filing in.

The meeting went well, and you answered everyone’s questions and addressed their concerns efficiently and cheerfully.

Which was shocking because, at this point, your breasts were hurting, really hurting. It had been almost 16 hours since you last fed your son before you put him down for the night.

Thank goodness it was your lunch hour, and you could close your office door and get some much-needed relief pumping.

This brings you to the present, frantically looking all over your office for your breast pump that’s nowhere to be found.

Maybe you left it in your car?

You grabbed your keys and took off. Not watching where you were going, you bumped right into him.

Dave York.

Of all the people to run into, it had to be him. You’ve been secretly obsessing over him since your first day of work at the DIA.

He was gorgeous. You couldn’t help but notice his large hands, the way his dress shirts seemed to strain to cover his large shoulders. Goodness, he was deliciously broad. One day in the lunchroom, Dave had his sleeves rolled up and caught you staring at the veins in his forearms. He looked at you with piercing brown eyes and knowingly smirked at you, the bastard.

You offered a hasty, “I’m sorry, Mr. York!” and sprinted for the parking lot.

Unfortunately, today was not your day. Your breast pump bag was not in your car either.

You were practically in tears by the time you made it back to your office.

You struggled for a solution to your predicament. Maybe you could soak some paper towels in warm water to ease the pain. Women hand-expressed in the past before breast pumps were invented. Surely that would work, right?

It had to. There was no way you could give the afternoon presentation in your condition. You don’t remember your breasts ever being this sore and full before. You were amazed you hadn’t started leaking through your nursing bra and blouse.

Having that happen during your next session was out of the question. You would be humiliated.

A gentle knock on your door brought you out of your thoughts. 

It was Dave again.

“Are you alright?,” he asked with genuine concern.

“It’s nothing,” you replied. “I’m just having an awful day.”

Dave responded, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, not unless you have a breast pump in your office,” you answered with a little more attitude than you meant to.

“Hmmmm,” he hummed as he slowly walked towards you.

“You may be surprised to learn I know little about what you are going through right now. Your son’s about three months old now, isn’t he? He probably just started sleeping through the night. I remember when my ex-wife, Carol, was nursing. She was relieved when the girls started sleeping through the night, but not so much when her milk production didn’t slow down right away.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, how do you know this? How do you even know how old my son is? I’ve never even talked to you except to say hello in passing.”

“I notice everything about you,” he admitted as he touched your cheek.

“Let me offer you my… assistance,” Dave said as he held your gaze.

“There was something I always wanted to do with Carol,” he continued, “but she never wanted to try.”

“I think you’re different, though. I think you know what I can do to help ease your pain,” he whispered in your ear. “And you want it, don’t you?”

Goosebumps erupted on your skin as arousal spread through your body. You clenched around nothing and fought to keep yourself from moaning.

Was this really happening?

“Shut your door and lock it,” Dave ordered darkly.

You never moved so fast in your life.

By the time you turned around, he had already moved your purse and jacket to your desk and was sitting on the extra chair in your office.

“Now be a good girl for me and let me take care of you,” Dave said as he held his hand out to you.

You walked to him and took his hand as your heart pounded in your chest.

“What do I...” you began.

“Sit on my lap,” he commanded softly.

Feeling self-conscious, you quickly argued, “But I’m too..”

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say. You are beautiful. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Now, sit.”

You straddled him, your legs on the outside of his, facing him.

Eyes blown with lust, Dave stared at you like a man starved.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. You worked in HR for goodness sake. It would be the end of your career if someone walked in on the two of you.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when Dave looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. You would do anything to please him at this point.

“That’s my good girl,” he breathed. “Now unbutton your blouse.”

Powerless to resist, you undid your buttons and exposed yourself.

“Fuck,” he growled out. “I knew your tits would be spectacular.”

He slowly unclasped the right side of your nursing bra and glanced down.

You knew what he saw. Your breast was engorged and started to leak almost immediately.

Dave gently massaged you and gave your nipple an experimental lick, causing your milk to start squirting from your breast.

He quickly opened his mouth to catch the flow. You could hear your milk landing and pooling in his mouth.

Dave groaned and latched on. You could feel the familiar pull and sighed with long-awaited relief.

Dave continued to massage your breast while he gulped down your milk enthusiastically.

It took a tremendous effort to keep quiet. The reality of what was happening right now made you dizzy with desire. 

Once Dave felt he had taken enough from the right side, he stopped and turned his attention back to you.

“That ex-boyfriend of yours is an idiot if you don’t mind me saying,” he told you candidly.

“You are a goddess. If you were mine, I’d make sure you were told that daily.”

Before you could think of something clever to reply, Dave had already uncovered your left breast and latched on.

At this point, you were incredibly turned on. You could feel your arousal leaking through your panties, and you desperately wanted to rub your thighs together for relief.

Sensing your struggle, Dave grabbed your hips and pushed you down until your core rubbed against the now rather large bulge in his trousers.

Mortified, you heard yourself moan out loud.

Dave put his hand over your mouth and hushed you.

"I know, I know. That feels good, doesn't it," he taunted. "But you need to keep quiet otherwise your co-workers will discover what a filthy little slut you are."

“Now take what you need, gorgeous girl,” he instructed as he returned to your breast.

With his help, you started to rub your core over his clothed erection. Need coursed through your body, and you lost yourself to your pleasure.

With every second, you become acutely aware of how much of your slick was dripping from your cunt, soaking through your panties and making a total mess of his lap.

Dave did not care in the least and only encouraged you.

“That’s my good girl. Just like that,” he moaned and quickly resumed gulping your milk like a man dying of thirst.

Faster and faster, you moved against him, whimpering while you felt your crest quickly build.

Dave released your nipple with a pop.

He held your chin and forced you to look into his eyes.

“Come for me,” he demanded, his voice dark as sin. “Be a good girl and come for me...now.”

That was all it took to push you over the edge. You came with a silent scream. Not taking any chances, Dave kissed you to make sure he would swallow any of your noises that might escape.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it was the most erotic thing you had ever experienced.

When you slowly came down from your high, you opened your eyes to see Dave gazing at you fondly.

“You look so beautiful right now,” Dave said reverently. “You did such a good job for me.”

You shyly replied, “Thank you, Mr. York,” and tried to look away.

Dave was having none of that.

“Don’t look away,” he said, forcing you to meet his eyes again. “We’re both consenting adults. You needed help, and I was happy to offer my assistance.”

Before you could respond, Dave reminded you of the time and your upcoming afternoon meeting.

You slowly and reluctantly removed yourself from Dave’s lap and tried to look presentable again. You smoothed out your skirt, closed up your nursing bra, and started to button up your blouse.

Anxiety crept into your mind. Did anyone hear what the both of you were doing?

Dave quickly took over buttoning your blouse.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl. No one heard a thing,” he promised sincerely.

You met his eyes and knew he would never lie to you.

“Next time, you’ll have to come to my office," he offered. "I have a couch in there. You’ll be much more comfortable sitting on my cock while I drink from your gorgeous tits.”

You must have had a shocked expression on your face because you heard Dave chuckle softly.

"Does that sound good to you?" he teased.

You shook your head yes immediately.

You didn't know what you had gotten yourself into with Dave York, but you were excited to see where this was going.

You left him in your office to sort himself out. Thinking about his promise of a "next time," you walked to the conference room smiling softly.

[mysweetgeo]

Could you do 14 and 16 off of list three for the Valentine’s Day prompts with John please? 👉🏻👈🏻

hello love! i am soooo so sorry about the very very long wait for this—i found myself quite busy and in quite a writing slump. i hope this is worth the wait !

Cupid's Arrow

Request: Could you do 14 and 16 off of list three for the Valentine’s Day prompts with John please? 👉🏻👈🏻

14: “I’ve been hit with Cupid’s Arrow.”

16: “Why? Because I’m in love with you, that’s why!”

Pairing: John Lennon x Reader

Warnings: Only a bit if swearing, dare I say a bit mild for good old Lennon.

Not written with an extremely specific era in mind—sometime after George and Pattie married in January 1966.

You and John Lennon hardly had a conventional relationship—if you could even call it that. 

Yes, that John Lennon.

You were currently one of the many personal assistants to Brian Epstein, therefore making you an assistant to The Beatles.

You’d ‘landed’ the gig when the lads had first taken off in Liverpool—you had worked at NEMS for Brian ever since you were able to work as a teenager.

While you loved your job, you did find many aspects of your work incredibly stressful, you had to make deadlines and phone calls like any other assistant.

But worst of all—you had make sure that any food orders were perfectly correct or else you’d never hear the end of it from John.

You got on perfectly well with all four of the boys, in fact you’d gone to school with George up until he’d been placed at Liverpool Institute for Boys.

Each of them had your heart in one way or another:

Paul (an endless flirt) always greeted you first thing with a smile that would make any girl weak in the knees and a very chipper, “Good morning, love. How’s it?”

George was very kind and always asked about you and your family and if you’d heard about one craze or the next—always in the know and wanting to make sure you were up to speed. 

Ringo was the friendliest, he always would offer to walk you in the building if you arrived at the same time and you were always invited to his home for tea. You and Maureen got on wonderfully and it was always such a joy to be invited to the home of a Beatle even if you saw the lads nearly every day. 

John, on the other hand was always pulling anything and everything he could on you.

He always seemed to have a wise remark to say in response to anything you said or did, no matter what it was. 

It didn’t seem to end with him, and nearly everything was a joke—at your expense, not that you particularly minded.

You’d had some indifferent feelings towards John in the nearly 6 year span of your acquaintance.

Today was no different, it was Valentine’s Day and it seemed that each of the boys had their plans set out with whomever they were taking out.

You knew most of the ins and outs of each of their personal lives, Ringo and Maureen were married with yet another kid on the way, George had just married Pattie Boyd not long ago and they were very much still in the honeymoon phase, and Paul had been seeing Jane Asher for quite some time but it seemed to be going nowhere.

You couldn’t quite read John. He never liked to open up about those things with you, but you did know that he was single—at least that’s what Paul had told you the other day. 

You’d put these thoughts far out of your mind while you had a friendly chat with all four of the boys in the canteen when you had all arrived, you were sat beside Ringo at one of the small tables while John and George grabbed a tea. 

George sat to your other side and John had sat across from you, passing you a cuppa across the table with a wink.

You smiled as a wordless ‘thank you’ while George soon began chatting your ear off about his plans with Pattie for the evening—you often wondered how anyone could even faintly consider him the ‘Quiet Beatle’ when you’d never had a moments peace while in his presence. 

George was soon interrupted by Paul, and then Ringo and soon you knew of all three’s Valentine’s plans. 

John remained silent while you engaged in conversation with the remaining Beatles, seemingly taking it all in or perhaps feeling a touch of jealousy at the fact that he didn’t have any plans for the evening. 

The coziness of the conversation was soon over and the lads began working on a quick take with just Paul, George and Ringo—which proved to be a very rare occurrence—and you found yourself lounged on a couch in the control room with John. 

“It’s Valentine’s Day, y’know,” John’s voice broke you from your thoughts.

“Oh, is it?” You asked, playing coy. “I’d have never known. Say, that must be why I was calling for reservations for you lot a month and a half ago!”

John snorted a laugh and gently nudged you with his shoulder, “Oi, not me I’ll have you know!”

You pushed back with a nudge of your own, “Well I know that much—I’d be pretty dim if I thought I was makin’ you a reservation when George is the one who asked!” 

John only gave you a closed mouth smile as he draped his arm on the couch behind you, allowing a comfortable silence to encroach upon the two of you once again. 

A familiar warm feeling in your stomach began to set in, a feeling you felt nearly any time you were alone or in close proximity to John. 

Another take was done before the other three decided to call it a day, it was early in the afternoon and they all likely had other things planned for their loved ones. 

Once your duties were done for the day, you bid farewell to Brian and George Martin before popping your head into the canteen to tell the boys goodbye and wish them a happy Valentine’s.

Upon doing so you only found Paul and George, who thanked you for the regards and for helping with their plans. 

Ringo and John had seemingly already left so you decided to concede and walk back to your car. 

What you found waiting for you proved to be very interesting.

John projected a casual ‘coolness’ as he smoked a cigarette and leaned against your car, a sly smile on his face when he saw you approach. 

“Hey, I was looking for you inside but thought you’d already left—to what do I owe the pleasure of John Lennon leaning against my car?” You asked, mirroring his cool demeanor. 

He let tendrils of smoke release from his mouth before flicking his cigarette to the ground and clearing his throat. 

“I think I’ve been hit by Cupid’s sparrow,” he said in a very serious tone, eyes meeting yours. 

“You mean, ‘I think I’ve been hit by Cupid’s arrow’?” You asked, huffing a laugh. 

John’s face immediately burnt a bright red at his jumbled words, “Well—yeah! It’s not my fault, I’m nervous!”

“Why are you nervous, John?” You asked, tilting your head because you couldn’t understand why John would be nervous, especially when he was speaking to you. 

John threw his hands in the air, exasperated, “Why?” He asked, huffing loudly before continuing, “Because I’m in love with you, that’s why!” 

You knew your mouth had dropped open the moment John had finished his sentence, but you were frozen in place, unsure of what your next move should be. 

“Fuck—I knew I should have waited. I didn’t mean to—“ John cut himself off with a shake of his head, “I thought you felt something similar, sorry I’ve read this wrong.”

John turned to walk by you and back into the studio, but you’d already reached a hand out to grab his arm before he could get very far. 

His head whipped back in your direction, eyes searching yours for anything that could clue him in to what you were going to say. 

“I like you, John. I’m not sure if what I feel is what you could call ‘love’, but I do get a warm feeling inside whenever I’m with you,” you moved closer and placed your other hand on his opposite arm. “I’d like to explore that feeling, if you’ll have me.”

John grinned, his hands coming around your back and pulling you close to him for a hug. 

“That’s better than any Valentine’s present I could have ever received.”

[promptful]

can you come up with some cutesy mushy love prompts?

Cutesy Mushy Love Prompts

Is this mushy enough?

WARNINGS: Mention of crime. Cursing. Mushy, mushy stuff.

SCENARIOS

1) Noticing that whenever your spouse walks into the room, your eyes track them, noticing every little thing about them. You find a new appreciation for how their eyes light up, and their lips stretch into that intoxicating smile. 

2) I have music playing in the background–something soft and sweet, just like I know you like it. Being honest, I only turned it on hoping that you’d come in here and dance with me. Even if the dishes aren’t being done/the food might burn. 

3) If there’s one thing I do before bed every night, it has to be calling you. Letting you know that I miss you, and that I can’t wait to be back in your arms. Even if there’s a thousand other things on mind, I’ll never forget you. 

4) Picking a flower from the grass, I notice it goes with your eyes/clothing/hair. The smile that graces your lips and the sparkle in your eyes as I slide it behind your ear makes it all worth it. 

5) I never thought that proposing would be something I’d get to do in life. Maybe I’d never find the right person, or the timing would never just feel right, but there’s no other way to describe you. There’s only one thing left to do. 

6) It’s our first dance, and I’m trying not to cry into your shoulder/hair/chest, and I don’t know how you’re keeping it together, but I’m just so happy. 

 7) It’s raining, enough to where inch-deep puddles keep popping up all over the concrete. We should really be inside, but you take my hand and start to sway in the rain, cold fingers against my cheeks, wrists, chest, hair, anywhere you can get a hold of. There’s not a single other person in the world I’d do this for, I hope you know. 

8) Hell, I don’t know how to bake, and everytime I have in the past, it’s turned out to be an absolute disaster. But, it’s your birthday/promotion/other big event, and I just have to make you a cake or something. As long as nothing burns down. 

9) I’ve got a headache that just won’t go away, but you’re content with curling up into my side–making sure that I’ve got painkillers on my bedside table and perfectly decided snacks. Every time I try apologizing that we couldn’t make it out today, you press your finger against my lips. 

10) It’s already twelve o’clock in the morning and you’re still working. Patience gone, I go and try to find you, and–oh. You’re sleeping on your desk, drooling with a pen still loosely falling from your grip. After wiping the grin off my face, I manhandle you into a hold to drag you to bed/the couch. 

11) It’s my birthday–nothing special really. Just a passing day where nobody remembers anything and everybody pretends they care for one day, right? After work, I expected the usual–dinner on the couch, and curling up in bed, but you took my spare key and placed a damn cake on my counter, sitting behind it with a cheshire grin and a happy birthday on your tongue. 

12) Some say growing old is a bad thing, but I think it’s beautiful. Waking up every morning with you and seeing the way you’ve changed over the years, whether it’s the different light in your eyes or the crinkle at your eyes that wasn’t there before. You’re beautiful. 

13) I know that we said that you’d do the dishes, but at least I can give some moral support here with my hands wrapped around your waist, your back to my chest. 

14) Agonizingly, the sun’s streaming through the curtains straight into my eyes. But before I can curse it out, I notice that it’s highlighting your features. The slope of your nose and the soft parting of your lips as you snooze. Maybe the sun can do this some more, actually. 

15) Rain might be soaking my hair and making my shirt cling to me in all the wrong places, but there’s hair in your eyes and you’re grinning so electrically. There’s nowhere I rather be–even inside, dry, and warm. Not when your laugh’s ringing through the night sky like this. 

16) You want a pet. I don’t want a pet. But when you look at me like that with those big eyes and clasped hands, I can’t say no. I really need to get better at this. 

17) We’re at the altar and my hands won’t stop shaking; there’s a knot in my throat that won’t disappear no matter how hard I try to swallow it away. You grin and reach out, fingers wrapping around my own, and like tangible courage, the words just come like that to me. 

18) You want to compare our hands after someone commented on how small/big your hands were. It’s not my fault that my first idea was to lock my fingers with your own, okay? 

19) Remember yesterday when I told you that staying up until the birds sang their God-awful song was a bad idea? Yeah, now I can see that you’re really regretting it. Well, here’s a coffee? I hope it makes up for the way that I’m pretty sure your eyebags have eyebags. 

20) I never knew what it was like to be loved, at least, not like this. But you make me realize what I missed out on in all the little things you do; making me breakfast, not because you have to, but because you want to. Picking out little things that you’d think I’d like. Delivering lunch to me at work because I stupidly forgot my bag in the kitchen. Pressing kisses to my cheek, and curling up next to me at night.

DIALOGUE  

21) “I love you.” 

22) “You make me feel loved.” 

23) “I never knew that someone could make me feel so… happy.” 

24) “You’re beautiful, you know?” 

25) “There’s no other place I’d rather be, okay?” 

26) “I’d do anything and everything for you.” 

27) “Can I help?” 

28) “Dance with me?” 

29) “You know it’s raining, right? Why do you want to dance?” 

30) “That’s awfully close for someone in dish-water-flinging distance.” 

31) “Never thought I’d be one of those people who dance in the kitchen. Guess I was wrong.” 

32) “I’ll be home soon.” 

33) “Wait for me?” 

34) “Just close your eyes, and I’ll be there before you know it.” 

35) “Let me worry about you.” 

36) “Please go to sleep early tomorrow.” 

37) “Did– did you break in? To sing me happy birthday?” 

38) “I’m willing to be a felon for you.” 

39) “Oh my god, you’re serious.” 

40) “This is… for me?” 

41) “You look good in that.” 

42) “Here, I got something for you.” 

43) “If you start crying, I’m going to start crying.” 

44) “My makeup will start running, please–” 

45) “Oh, here come my waterworks.” 

46) “I’m sorry, you’re just so beautiful.” 

47) “I think my brain’s turning off because of you.” “That a good or a bad thing?” “Good. Definitely good.” 

48) “I love it when we cuddle, you know?”

[dogtoling]

amber!!! 🧠 ✂️ ❤️

EXCELLENT TASTE

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

She's honestly such an all-rounder too but mostly she's just VERY FUN. both to draw and to just imagine. Some OCs are more difficult to simulate in your brain than others and Amber is just always fun. she has a very spicy personality!!! she was one of my first OCs!!! she was THE first cuttlefish OC i made what's not to love!!! she's very lovable and I look up to her to be honest. she has a lot of stuff going on and that's admirable honestly

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

wow ok the tonal shift. Uhhh well. LOL honestly?? She's generally a pretty optimistic person and doesn't let stuff drag her down, so that's hard to pinpoint. I feel like people would expect something generally traumatic which arguably would be losing her eye, and that's up there, but it's not *the* worst? (She doesn't even consider the injury part the worst part of that memory.) I feel like most of her actual worst memories come from her teenage years when she used to play solo Turf competitively and generally wasn't a very nice person.

Her WORST memory definitely is, or used to be, cutting off the rivalry between herself and Peppermint back in the day and completely crushing her because she felt she had better things to do and it just wasn't worth her time and energy to keep 1v1ing some desperate squid who loses every time anyway. That caused Peppermint to temporarily quit ink battles altogether back in the day, and when Amber heard about that, something clicked and she just felt like the scum of the earth. She ended up quitting herself almost immediately following that because she realized nothing she was doing was actually fulfilling and it was actually kind of nice having "human" connection with somebody on the field, which she fucked up, so. THAT whole conclusion had to have been her worst memory and ate her up inside for literal years afterwards until she reconnected with Peppermint and learned that she actually didn't drive her out of the sport, she just came back a bit later with a fresh mindset. But it doesn't change that she crushed her spirit even if just temporarily. So y'know. A MAJOR personal failing.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

On account of being pretty optimistic, Amber has a lot of nice memories actually. I think some of her favorites have to be personal milestones, like the decision to open the bakery and workshopping the menu with her friends. But the majority of them are likely of the smaller nice things in life, like going to get ice cream with Peppermint, or just walking home from the grocery store and holding hands, or a particularly smooth work day, or reading on the couch while there's a typhoon outside (instead of having to be outside). Some of her most recent ones from the last year are mostly centered around archeology, since she went out to the Splatlands desert to dig for bones and human artifacts, and that was FUUUN. And very taxing, but so so worth it.

A recent top memory for her has to be her first Turf War since like ten years or so, back when she and Peppy were over at Splatsville and decided to give it a go. It was ROUGH given that she was nowhere near the athletic status she was at 16 let alone prepared for the chaos of Turf War, with a completely different environment and all kinds of new mechanics (back when she played pretty much everyone had a Splattershot! What is going ON!). But she had a fantastic time regardless because it was more or less her first time actually going into a Turf War NOT with the goal of outperforming everyone else and winning, but going into it to have fun and enjoy a battle experience with the focus on it as a team activity. Most importantly because it was also her first time ever entering a Turf War on the SAME TEAM as Peppermint, so honestly no matter how poorly the battle would've gone she was just super excited to get to play together and synergize. (It went well by the way. They're an overpowered team even if they're washed up.)

thanks for the ask!! here's the little guy version i made of her for her page the other day...

[bettsfic]

(Love on Display is the series name for ASE and its sequel)

okay so for this commentary i went through my ASE tag to read the asks i'd gotten about it because i can't really remember the whole process, and found this response i'd written:

you know how like when you read or watch something, you kind of look for the character you relate to most? when i was rereading the hunger games last month i was thinking, i don’t relate to a single one of you bitches. and then annie shows up like “nope nope nope i can handle exactly 0% of this bullshit” and i was just, ah there i am

looking back on my mental health issues, the irony is that i was writing about madness in a time i was actually pretty stable, despite the pandemic being in full swing. i remember writing ASE throughout summer, sitting on my grandma's porch swing and admiring her garden, going inside only when it got dark enough for the fireflies to come out. at the time, i was approaching my third year of rejections on the original fiction front; i'd been querying agents for over a year and submitting short stories, and i felt like i wasn't getting anywhere. i was also about to start a phd program, which i was apprehensive about, to say the least. i wish i'd listened to that "i have a bad feeling about this" instinct.

tbosas had just come out (to almost no attention or acclaim; even now with the film coming out in a couple weeks, the gifsets i've been reblogging don't get a lot of traffic and the tag only has 250 fics in it) and so i read it, loved it, and immediately re-read the hunger games with the new lens of snow's origin story.

the hunger games is one of the few things that i think is completely worth the hype. it's a beautifully written series and i really admire it. tbosas i thought was even better, because it felt like suzanne collins had full creative control. it's not easy writing a villain origin story and i think she really managed to thread the needle with coriolanus as a POV character who is really the antagonist of two protagonists whose POVs we don't have access to.

anyway as soon as i finished re-reading the hunger games, i went back to read the one thg fic i'd written after the film series concluded, the baker's son. it wasn't as bad as i remembered it, because 2015-16 were the years i was really starting to figure out how to write, so everything from that time in my memory is hand-wavy at best. but i remember thinking, this could have been really good if i'd just taken my time with it.

back then, i never took my time with anything. i had so many ideas that i had to churn through them in order to get to the next one. when you're just starting out writing, you haven't followed through on enough ideas to know how to sort through them properly and find the ones that have legs. so i was still learning how to control my attention.

and so ASE marked a huge change in the way i viewed my own work and the reception thereof. i was getting nowhere in publishing, i was no longer in one single fandom and so i didn't really have a community, and i finally realized the only guarantee i would ever have is my own joy. that changed everything.

i know i'll always love the hunger games, because i genuinely believe it's good. it's engaging and entertaining and meaningful. before, i'd written for canons i actually didn't like, because communities had formed around them and i was inspired by what i felt was unmet potential in canon. but i know i'll never rewatch supernatural or the 100. in fact i didn't finish either of them. with big fandoms, sure, i get more traffic and comments. but i'd stopped writing for traffic and comments. i wrote ASE because it was fun, and i knew in 10 years i'd read the hunger games again, and i would want my perfect fixit fic. and i would want it to be long, and well thought out, and something i could be proud of.

i've kept that "i'm writing for my 40 year old self" mentality for all my writing. at 40, i want to look back at what i wrote at 30 and know it was time well spent because it made me happy during a hard time in human history. it's a lot easier to make creative decisions when you're writing for an audience of your future self.

with tbosas coming out soon, i'm hoping to finish the coriojanus fic i started in 2020 (i think it's 7k?). and looking back through my ASE tag i also saw how many ideas i had for finnick POV and i could see myself fiddling around with a few of those prompts eventually.

[nycnomad]

So it was a couple of weeks into December when we decided that moving to Poland was probably too big a step for us. At the same time, I found out that my company would pay me $20k to move out of NYC, but I had to do it by December 31st. Obviously, we were like, “Should we move to Florida immediately?!”

I would get paid 15% less if we lived outside of NYC, but there’s no income tax in Florida, and the cost of living is of course much cheaper. Like, our condo in NYC costs about $1250/sqft, while our condos in Florida cost about $575/sqft. A cocktail in NYC is $16 at the very cheapest, while I can get a cocktail in our area of Florida for $10. Plus, whatever stock I get from my company while I live in NYC, the state will collect tax on it when I sell it even if I’m living in Florida at the time. It doesn’t make sense to earn money in NYC!

So we really, really started to talk about moving down to one of our Florida condos. We went out to dinner with J’s two best friends and told them what we were thinking, and I kind of thought they’d freak out, but they were actually like, “Good for you! Go live by the beach!” 

We talked to my cousin, who’s a realtor, about selling our NYC condo. How much we could get, if December is a terrible time to sell, if he would interview some NY real estate agents for us. We considered officially moving our address to Florida but hanging onto our condo until the spring when buyers are more motivated.

J told his parents what we were thinking, and I emailed a former boss of mine who recently moved from NJ to FL to ask what I would miss and if he regrets anything. I asked my current manager, who left San Francisco during the worst of COVID and bought a massive house in New Orleans, what to expect when moving from a huge city to the middle of nowhere. She said to expect a much better quality of life. 🙂

We were so serious about selling! But then J started having second thoughts. He’s lived in NYC most of his life, and he doesn’t feel comfortable around smalltown things like I do. Like, to me, there’s nothing more homey than a strip mall sushi bar with ample parking and all-white decor that stays white because 8.5 million people don’t live in the area. To J, it’s stifling.

He started thinking about how we’d never have any true friends in Florida, because everyone in our area is old and conservative. Our neighbors are all super nice, friendly for sure, but we’re just never going to be really close with people who are worried about trans people in their bathrooms or don’t think black lives matter. I, of course, said that any of our friends from back home will jump at the chance for a free stay at the beach whenever we offer. And that his parents would love to host us in NYC whenever we were willing to visit. 

I didn’t actually hate the idea of visiting NYC a few times a year and doing all of our favorite things. What fun to have a whirlwind week of lavish dinners and fancy drinks with our closest friends and maybe even do touristy things we never did while we lived there! 

But the final straw for J was that when we go on international trips, we always go on tours (mostly food tours, let’s be honest) where we meet people from all over the world. And there will always be someone in the group who’s lived in NYC or loves NYC, and I’m going to be honest, it feels like we usually get special attention because of it. And J said he just couldn’t imagine telling people that we’re from FLORIDA. 😂 It’s so funny, because he doesn’t usually like the limelight at all, and yet he apparently likes that a Berlin tour guide might take a shine to us! 

So to him, the $20k wasn’t worth it to have to say goodbye to New York RIGHT NOW, and I understand where he’s coming from. All this to say, I still officially live in NYC. But you can bet I’m enjoying the month and a half we’re in Florida this winter!

[aphrogeneias]

𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒊𝒂𝒔' 𝒑𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆

to celebrate rock and roll's softer side — and this blog's most recent big milestone! — i am hosting my first ever writing challenge, inspired by my favorite hard rock and heavy metal love songs. from back in the day where record labels obligated the world's heaviest bands to write at least one love song, and they came up with the cheesiest, sappiest music ever made. after all, those leather and spikes-clad men had hearts too.

RULES

you don't have to be following me to join, though you are welcome to.

deadline: september 30.

any genre is welcome, just make sure to tag your warnings appropriately. if your story is over 500 words long, please use the read more feature.

i will not limit the characters or fandoms you can write for, just follow your heart and have fun! reader inserts, original characters and character x character stories are all welcome as well. wlw/mlm ships are more than encouraged.

when you post, make sure to tag me and use the #power ballads writing challenge tag.

the prompts are not limited and more than one person can use the same prompt, they can be used as dialogue, inserted in the narrative or just used as inspiration or theme for your story.

happy writing! and for those about to rock, we salute you <3

also, here's the challenge's official playlist.

PROMPTS

1. "i never opened myself this way" (nothing else matters — metallica)

2. "i know how you feel inside, i've been there before" (don't cry — guns n' roses)

3. "try to trust in my love again" (still loving you — scorpion)

4. "when you wake up, will you walk out?" (love bites — def leppard)

5. "i've always been a fighter, but without you, i give up" (always — bon jovi)

6. "love's a game of easy come and easy go" (every rose has its thorn — poison)

7. "we're partners in crime" (cryin' — aerosmith)

8. "it's been a long year since you've been gone" (fall to pieces — velvet revolver)

9. "reach out your hands and touch me" (more than words — extreme)

10. "two strangers learn to fall in love again" (faithfully — journey)

11. "love is blind and love deceives you" (prisoner of your eyes — judas priest)

12. "i've got nowhere left to go" (heaven — warrant)

13. "you said i love you without a sound" (i remember you — skid row)

14. "i can't come home right now" (beth — KISS)

15. "don't look back, but think of me" (thunderbird — quiet riot)

16. "your love is a dagger" (close my eyes forever — lita ford)

17. "i want to hurt you just to hear you scream my name" (poison — alice cooper)

18. "i can't wait to see you again" (is this love — whitesnake)

19. "the passion and the pain are one" (sleeping in the fire — w.a.s.p)

20. "i wanna walk but i run back to you" (i hate myself for loving you — joan jett & the blackhearts)

21. "please, don't ask for more" (carrie — europe)

22. "i've seen your face a hundred times every day we've been apart" (mama, i'm coming home — ozzy osbourne)

23. "makes me wonder if it's worth it to carry on" (the price — twisted sister)

24. "everybody dreams of angels" (the ballad of jayne — l.a. guns)

25. "you can't hide your heartache away" (givin' yourself away — ratt)

26. "it's a game that you lose" (runaway — riot)

27. "we can share a life together" (amanda — boston)

28. "do you wanna see me begging?" (don't know what you got (till it's gone) — cinderella)

29. "i know a thing or two, i learned from you" (love hurts — nazareth)

30. "you're the reason the sun shines" (without you — mötley crüe)

31. "tell me all your thoughts" (if i knew — helloween)

32. "i meant every word i said" (keep on loving you — reo speedwagon)

33. "this time i want to be sure" (waiting for a girl like you — foreigner)

34. "i would give you both night and day" (feel like makin' love — bad company)

35. "let me be the one to hold you" (to be with you — mr. big)

[kitausu]

Kit's MM *Spicy* Book Rec List

Because I need basically zero encouragement to make a book rec list, and @thepixiepaige mentioned that a rec list would be appreciated, here is a rec list of some of my favorite MM spicy books that I've read in the last few years.

*Note: Please check content/trigger warnings as needed. Not all, or even most, of these will be everyone's cup of tea. Many contain kink, age gaps, and some contain sibling relationships.*

Cara Dee's The Game series

Forever and always my go to spicy rec. This series has me by the throat and there's just so many of them and they're all amazing! There are currently 16 and counting...

The Game Series is a BDSM series where romance meets the reality of kink. Sometimes we fall for someone we don’t match with, sometimes vanilla business gets in the way of kinky pleasure, and sometimes we have to compromise and push ourselves to overcome trauma and insecurities. No matter what, two things are certain. This is not a perfect world, and life never turns out the way you planned.

Other Cara Dee Books

Nora Phoenix's The White House Men series, Perfect Hands series, and Kinky Boys series

Nora Phoenix is often hit or miss for me. Sometimes I love the books (like the ones pictured here) and sometimes they're a little meh. She writes daddy kink though in a way that consistently hits, so if that's your thing, these three are excellent reads and can be mostly read as standalones (although The White House Men series less so)

Avon Gale's Scoring Chances series

Below is the blurb for the first book. Each series deals with different players on the team. This is my go to hockey romance and I read all of these SO quickly.

Drafted to play for the Jacksonville Sea Storm, an NHL affiliate, twenty-year-old Lane Courtnall’s future looks bright, apart from the awkwardness he feels as a gay man playing on a minor league hockey team. He's put his foot in his mouth a few times and alienated his teammates. Then, during a rivalry game, Lane throws off his gloves against Jared Shore, enforcer for the Savannah Renegades. It’s a strange way to begin a relationship.   Jared’s been playing minor league hockey for most of his career. He’s bisexual and doesn’t care if anyone knows. But he’s determined to avoid another love affair after the last one left him devastated. Out of nowhere a one-nighter with rookie Lane Courtnall gives him second thoughts. Lane reminds Jared why he loves the game and why love might be worth the risk. In turn, Jared hopes to show Lane how to be comfortable with himself on and off the ice. But they’re at different points in their careers, and both men will have to decide what they value most.

N.R. Walker's Thomas Elkin trilogy

Each book is only about 100ish pages, so really this is just one book broken up into three parts. Just very sweet and indulgent and architecture as a setting feels very unusual!

Even the strongest of buildings start out as plans on paper, and every architect knows that sometimes plans need to change. Sometimes, these lessons are learned on the job. A successful New York architect, Thomas Elkin almost has it all. Coming out as gay and ending his marriage before his fortieth birthday, he needed to start living his life. Now, four years later, with his relationship with his son back on track, and after a few short-lived romances, this esteemed traditional draftsman thought he knew everything about architecture, about life. Cooper Jones, twenty-two years old, is about to take the architect world by storm. Talented, professional, driven, and completely infuriating, Cooper is the definition of Generation Y. Starting an internship working with Thomas, Cooper is about to knock Tom’s world off its axis. Tom can teach Cooper about the industry, but Cooper is about to teach Tom a few things about life.

Annabeth Albert's Out of Uniform series

Listen, I wouldn't rec a Navy SEAL series if it wasn't great, and these are GREAT. The blurb here is for the first one, but I loved them all.

After trading the barracks for a fixer-upper rental, navy SEAL Zack Nelson wants peace, not a roommate—especially not Pike, who sees things about Zack he most wants to hide. Pike’s flirting puts virgin Zack on edge. And the questions Pike’s arrival would spark from Zack’s teammates about his own sexuality? Nope. Not going there. But Zack can’t refuse. Pike Reynolds knows there won’t be a warm welcome in his new home. What can he say? He’s an acquired taste. But he needs this chance to get his life together. Also, teasing the uptight SEAL will be hella fun. Still, Pike has to tread carefully; he’s had his fill of tourists in the past, and he can’t risk his heart on another, not even one as hot, as built—and, okay, yeah, as adorable—as Zack. Living with Pike crumbles Zack’s restraint and fuels his curiosity. He discovers how well they fit together in bed…in the shower…in the hallway… He needs Pike more than he could have imagined, yet he doesn’t know how to be the man Pike deserves.

Keira Andrews

Another author who is often hit or miss for me, but these are really fun! She does the age gap romance that I crave.

Specific Books

All of these are standalones, although many are part of a "series," and all of them are kinky and spicy af.

[festeringfae]

A part of my brain wracked with C-PTSD is yelling at me not to "jynx" it by making this post, but: I've never been completely confident that two women who are explicitly, canonically lesbian and bisexual are going to survive and/or not be completely fucking miserable by the end of the finale of a teen show in my entire fucking life. And for all the misognoir and anti-Native bullshit towards and in the way Toni, and by extension, Choni, is written....I don't think I've ever, and I do mean ever, seen First, Most-Characterized love interest of the same gender get to be the endgame in a teen show.

I think about Willow and Tara, and how the first sex scene between women on broadcast TV was between Willow and...Kennedy. I think of Pretty Little Liars, how nothing I'd ever seen before was as electric as Maya and Emily, how it was so tender and alluring and full of longing even just in the commercials that at 18 I remember being surprised that I liked the show itself, because that wasn't what I was here for, I was here for Maya's doe eyes coaxing me out, gently, the way she did Emily. I think about how I don't even know who killed Maya, or if they ever confirmed it on the show. How they sent her away first, to a camp. How Emily's other two main interests were white, and abused her, and tried to drown her. How I don't remember much of anything about Emily's Black love interest, Samara, but I remember her name and the thrill of learning it in some scene in a coffee shop, or a mall kiosk. I remember she was beautiful and later on they revealed she was deceitful and pining after an abusive white girl. I remember she died both off stage narratively and off a literal stage, no discretion given to the image of her splayed across the floor-- a narrative distraction from the real plot of the episode. No funeral episode for her. I remember how the lesbian of the titular Pretty Little Liars was the only one who did not end up with her first love interest-- even though one of the other first love interest's was a high school sophomore's English teacher.

I think of how these were the two most generous depictions of lesbians available to me, as someone whose teenage years were 2005-2010.

There were others. South of Nowhere, a show that despite the utterly mind-blowing focus on a girl realizing she likes not only A Girl but Girls, was sabotaged out of a final season worth watching, of a final season that wasn't too patronizing for even a 16-year-old lesbian with Literally Nothing Else to keep watching. There was Literally Nothing Else because Paige and Alex had already broken up on Degrassi (again), even though they'd only gotten maybe 6 episodes focused on them across multiple seasons, even though I still know exactly what clip from The Lexicon of Love played in the commercials because my 15-year-old self found herself completely drawn in, focused, compelled, impatient for the new episode to air, every time it played. "Ever feel drunk without drinking?" "Is that when your shoes went AWOL?" [Jay somehow makes his presence known] "Ew! VIP does not stand for vastly icky poser. What are you doing here?" "My boy Mic did security on the movie," point at Mic Mic nods at the camera, some snide comment about the girls [in hindsight, incredibly chaste], snide in a way that asks Alex if Paige is why she dumped him but he doesn't say "Paige," Alex UP IN HIS FUCKING FACE IN A PHYSICAL THREAT you do not call her that. Ever." The close-up of Paige's arched brow, her glittering, pleased eyes. Alex will later hold Paige during a panic attack and she will be a lesbian who tells Paige "the word is bi" when Paige is making identity needlessly complicated and Alex will have a weird plotline about a strip club where everything is status quo by the end of the two parter except, conveniently, their relationship status.

Paige's actress will admit fondly that she forgot Paige and Alex ever dated, and that it meant so much to people. Naya Rivera, God rest her soul, will fight for joke-lesbian Santana to become a real girl, but not before I leave for college. My last year as a true teenager, there was so little of Santana and Brittany that the one-off joke that would inspire Naya Rivera to fight for their humanity made my friends and I cheer like it was an epic high of high school football, a touchdown after staring hungrily, longingly, defiantly at those damned pinkies for months.

I stopped watching Glee the moment they finally let those girls kiss. It was never going to get any better than that, I declared. Actually, what I said was that I can't watch Glee anymore-- because that was as good as it was ever going to get. And better to only have the dollop of affirmation I longed for, and live in purposeful denial, than face what I saw as the inevitability of their being broken. Not just separated--broken. Sabotaged. Punished. Thwarted.

(When I stopped watching Glee, I watched for gifsets of them. Youtubed their songs. Threw quiet tantrums in shitty apartments whenever I saw them with other people. Dropped everything and grabbed the remote when I heard they were getting married in the episode currently playing. Recorded myself watching it, because it felt like history, because I needed to see what it looked like-- finding out that we could make it real. I had to WATCH, because if I didn't I WOULD NOT believe it-- SOMETHING would happen, no matter what the episode previews had said. Something ALWAYS did.

When they made it through the episode unscathed, I cracked the champagne that had been meant for New Years Eve. I cried my eyes out. I still didn't watch any more of the show. They'd still had to share their ceremony with two gay boys jumping on their coat tails last minute (Kevin Keller: thank you for 7 years of atoning for Klaine's sins).

I don't know what the fuck is going to happen in the Riverdale series finale. But I know despite the appalling misogynoir she faced, and having a baby, Vanessa Morgan still decided to come back and not only keep Toni alive but keep her kissing Cheryl in scenes where it wasn't originally written that she would. I know Madeleine Petsch looked at a character I looked at and went "that's a high femme" and fucking agreed, and fought for it. I know we went from "it's okay because it's self-aware" faux-lesbianism and creepy stalker lesbian trope to being soulmates in multiple dimensions without even having to die and if you DO die you're resurrected. And you get to have sex. And you look like me and my high school crush-- something I'd never thought to want to see in high school.

I'm not worried about Toni Topaz or Cheryl Blossom dying or being intentionally tragic in the Riverdale series finale. I just really wanted to let you know that. I want to be brave enough to jynx it. We all deserve the feeling of crying on the couch with a bottle of champagne-- safe, no take-backs.

[kittenmogu]

life update 2023

I started this tumblr when I was 16, which is crazy. I'm 29 now. Life has continued to take me infinite miles away from where I was before. I still remember being essentially a severely depressed shut-in at 16. I remember craving love, understanding, and joy. Craving geniune human connection. I remember intense loneliness. Often I was so lonely it was physically unbearable. I truly believed I was defective. Now I understand. Looking back on 16 year old me is like looking at a complete tapestry. What a gift hindsight is.

Last I updated, I was living in NYC during the start of the COVID pandemic in 2020. I think I came back to Tumblr at that time because it was sort of like being a depressed shut-in again, haha. Since then I've found love. Real love. I've been with my current partner for just over 3 years, living together since April 2021. She has made many of my dreams come true. There are so many wonderful things I could tell you, but they are my little treasures that I won't share. Just know that there is someone who I can reveal all my tenderness and softness to, who makes all my joys 10x more colorful.

I'm not on speaking terms with my parents. I hadn't been speaking with my father since our falling out in Dec 2018. Then I had a falling out with my mother in Jan or Feb 2022. It was very painful, but it has ultimately given me great peace to be away from them.

I lost Kali. She passed in my arms at the vet, May 26, 2023. She was 19. A long, good life. Never long enough. I knew death would come one day, but it didn't stop me from wishing she would be here forever. There is no healing. To heal would mean to let go. I cannot let go of the love I had for her, and the love she had for me. It is all I truly have left of her. No platitudes comfort me. We move on from break-ups, mistakes, and disappointments. Kali wasn't any of those. She was my baby and my angel. A fool would say she was just a cat. A fool could not fathom what I know.

I want children. I've wanted children for a long time now. I think I had pangs of desiring a baby since I was around 20 (quite young!). Obviously I was nowhere near ready enough to seriously consider it at that time. But I've always wanted to meet my child, and to know them. To see who they could become. I have so much to share, but also space in my heart for what they have to share with me. I have ears waiting to listen to them, arms waiting to hold them, eyes waiting to watch them go through this world.

I spent so much of my youth wishing that I could find life to be worth living. It took me a long time, but I don't regret being born and struggling to find value in my life, because eventually I truly came to be glad to be alive. Depression and loneliness wasn't a death sentence. Hating myself wasn't the end of my story.

[also-fours]

power rangers has been going thirty seasons strong, or at least it will have been by the time cosmic fury makes its debut in fall, where the longest running team of rangers since mighty morphin return with (almost) completely original suits, the shortest episode list to date, and facing off against one of the original big bads of the show, lord zedd

in the same year, mighty morphin power rangers returns for the once and always special, where quite a few of the rangers from that team's roster face off against a robotic doppelganger of rita repulsa

there were some interesting set photos for once and always, showing an "S.P.A." while in cosmic fury, the rangers go to space to chase after lord zedd

i think its time for a change after we're done here

we're getting very close to closing that gap in the timeline, making a full series worth of ranger teams that lead to the one at the very end of the timeline, that being SPD

...technically hyperforce is at the end of the timeline because that takes place 16 years after time force, which was in the year 3000, but i wanna be realistic and say we probably wont get yearly power rangers seasons for the next a little under one thousand years

so realistically, this is the best place to close the gap on everything

i feel like now is a good time to end live-action power rangers and start going animated

believe me, i love the show the way it is, and i love dino fury so far, i'm quite a few episodes in as i write this, but i think it's time for things to change

yes, they can technically keep going with what they have now, adapting sentai zords while making new suits for the american audience, they *could* do that

but i feel like live action is a bit too restrictive for a series like power rangers in terms of the budget that these shows usually get

im guessing cosmic fury is gonna be a cut above the rest because they have less episodes to work with and said they wanna take risks, but i feel like power rangers could really benefit from going animated, preferably 2D

that eliminates the problems of having to fly your actors everywhere, not being able to bring back characters because they couldnt make it or didnt want to go or are dead, the amount of places you can go being restricted by the sentai footage or the very fact that all of the original footage is filmed in new zealand, *and* you can hire professional voice actors to put in work for this

we absolutely could've gotten an accurate adaptation of shattered grid, but only if it was animated because there is no goddamn way they'd be getting back that many actors to reprise their roles, or put that much money into the amount of battles or set design, unless they gave the show a huge budget like game of thrones or something

i feel like, with power rangers seemingly closing the gap on its timeline, bringing back original cast members and the like, it's time to put an end to the story that quite a few of us have been following for almost thirty years

give us an animated adaptation of the comics, or an anthology animated series that has different arcs about different ranger teams, or a completely new ranger team, with animation, there's nothing you *can't* have your characters do or nowhere you can't have your characters go

granted if they're not given a good budget it could look similar to one's ass, like modern marvel cartoons, but if we're lucky, we could get something like rise of the tmnt or invincible in terms of animation quality

yes, i know, making it animated would take away what makes power rangers such a stand out show in the midst of TV nowadays, but i feel like tradition shouldn't be kept simply because of uniqueness or because it's been that way for so long