#I am so sorry for how disjointed it's

[rhaenyra-first-of-her-name]

This is kind of a long rant against HotD and not structured at all so you might want to avoid it if you like TG or Alicent. Or even Daemon, sorry, I don't like him much either.

I was always skeptical of HotD even before it started but I had never expected that it would be so much worse than the source material which is, mind it, a very pro greens, biased, misogynistic spiral by some dead maester.

I don't enjoy F&B as a book and the Dance wasn't remotely my favorite part of it. Like the whole Dance of Dragons reads like a misogynistic spiral sometimes but HotD just took a biased source and dialled it to a 100.

You would think they would try to do the opposite bcoz the source is acknowledged to be biased but nope, they just had to make it worst. The Greens get to be whitewashed, they can literally not commit to any actions (Alicent committed treason by mistake, Aemond murdered a child by mistake, like wtf? Wtf are these fucking uwu passive characters and writing. Fucking commit to treason if you are gonna do it. Who half asses treason? Book Greens would gobble up Show Greens for breakfast. The Lannisters would have a laugh.) The Blacks are villainized and all the Velaryons are sidelined (which is worst with the show changing their race intentionally and then doing this).

Like the Greens have no redeeming qualities, just the narrative framing them as the good guys on their sides and I always hate how the narrative is trying to shove it down my throat. I can't stand it.

Like I don't even like Daemon but the show is stripping all the depth from him. I seriously don't like him but it's like the show can't stand anyone on the TB to have anything good or significant.

They literally showed Aegon to be a rapist onscreen and want me to root for him? Wtf are they smoking? The amount of cognitive dissonance you need to like TG is too high. Ik the show doesn't expect much from its viewers but it's like they expect the viewer to be stupid.

Show Alicent is so passive, they make me prefer the book Alicent and I hate the Evil Stepmother trope. The show acts as if Rhaenyra wasn't supposed to be the Good Mother and Good Stepmother counterpart to Alicent.

And F&B and George isn't subtle about who won the Dance. It's the Blacks. Rhaenyra might have died but her fraction won the war, her sons and descendants sat on the throne. Daenerys is her direct descendant and she brought the dragons back from death (especially given that the Dance was the main reason for their downfall and even the Targaryens' powers thanks to TG).

TG has the same fate as all the usurpers in the series- Maegor, Larys Strong, Robert Baratheon - the end of their line. Alicent 's line all dies before her eyes. The current Higtowers have nothing to do with Alicent and her line, they're not even worthy of remembrance and mention in the main series so far. Margaery is a half Hightower and despite the Tyrells' obvious efforts to make her queen and have one of their own on the throne, no one remotely mentions the only Hightower Queen ever. Imagine how embarrassing is that. You know if Alicent was a decent queen in any right, it would have been mentioned by now, the Tyrells aren't one to not use every advantage they have given that their Bannerman have more royal blood than them, which was again mentioned in the series.

Anyway, Alicent 's line dying and going to oblivion for all purposes is their ultimate defeat. I can't stand the TG stand trying to make it anything else.

And yes Rhaenicent is just queerbaiting and terribly at that. As a queer woman, I don't want them as any sort of a representation. An evil step mother aged down for a pairing where she plots treason and murder for Nyra and her sons? No, God, Daemon is a better option than that and I can't believe they made me say it.

Also, Laena was right there if they wanted to have a sapphic pairing.

When I said I wanted more morally gray female characters, I didn't mean totally irredeemable ones. There is a fine line in what characters, or crimes, you can redeem, starting a civil war out of personal greed and misogyny is not one of them. And yes, TG are all misogyny even if Alicent plays the uwu victim of patriarchy all the time. And funny how she never does anything to help any woman, not even her daughter Helena; does nothing against the man who actually harmed her and actively wants to put her rapist son on the throne instead of the rightful heir but her stans act as they or she is some kind of feminist when Alicent is no woman's friend.

And canonically, which are the books btw, not the badly written fanfictions (I am so sorry, this is an insult to fanfiction tbh) of the producers: GoT and HotD, Nyra had her mother's sigil on her flag, not Aegon the Rapist+Usurper.

(Can't believe the show tried to make some kind of gotcha moment with Alicent in that green dress. Idk why the characters even stood up. They only do that for the ruling monarch, not the consort and Alicent literally did nothing to deserve that kind of reaction. She just wore a green dress so what? Once again, the show is giving TG credit for doing nothing.)

On the last notes:

Cole is an incel.

I can't believe people ship Aemond and Luke. The former is his murderer and a war criminal while Luke was just a child. Leave my baby boi alone.

Otto is a cunt. Idk why Alicent stans don't crucify the man who arranged her marriage (and the bane of her existence) more.

Daemon is somehow better than all the men in TG which is an accomplishment especially since I dislike his character.

Once again, Aegon is a drunkard rapist.

Helena deserves better than her family.

I never liked Jaehaerys I and this is all kinda his fault. For the best king ever, he singlehandedly roped his daughters and all the Targaryen women of all their rights. Rhaena I should really have been the queen.

Viserys I, you tried but you should have done better. Aemma would have been so disappointed.

[mae-i-scribble]

tonight i was thinking about orv’s theme about how yjh as a character, and to a larger extent people, will in some ways always be unknowable. (orv spoilers following, read at your own risk)

i feel like i’ve seen a few posts on here that somewhat take this theme to an extreme, leaning *hard* into that “kdj doesn’t actually know yjh like at all” which while on the right track, i feel completely misses the point. Orv goes out of its way to showcase that kdj actually understands yjh to a scary degree, even once they’re out of the early scenarios and the gap between kdj’s knowledge and yjh’s personhood grows larger, there are still things about yjh that *only* kdj can fundamentally understand. And I don’t think that the novel does anything to discredit that understanding, only says that there is much more to yjh. In the same manner, even if you’ve known someone for years, spent all your time with them, there can and will always be new things for you to learn about them. The danger that orv speaks of is trusting in that assumption, that your understanding will be enough and you don’t have to keep an eye out for more developments. That the person you know will forever stay the same. And this isn’t a kdj problem either, fundamentally a lot of the big disagreements that happen between kdj and yjh in the latter half of the novel are born from both of them misconstruing what the other is thinking, trusting that their understanding of the other is deep enough to base their judgements off of. (Post first murim destruction, divorce arc, yjh thinking kdj scattered his soul on purpose, etc.)

As always with orv’s themes, we can view it in a meta sense as well. Kdj’s understanding of yjh as a character is so complete that it’s nearly flawless- until the story begins to deviate and a yjh grows outside the parameters that kdj’s judgements are based on. Even before then, there was always more to yjh- but as readers, we can only understand a character as much as we see them. What you come away with from a story is your complete understanding, there is no growth outside of those boundaries because then it wouldn’t be an understanding of *that* character, you would be putting your own ideas and such into it. But talk to another person, and suddenly the same character you understand so clearly becomes someone else. Talk to the author, and they say something completely different. And can one truly claim to understand a character when the story will never talk about them in every conceivable way? What does it take to truly understand such a thing? Learning that 1863rd round hsy wrote ways of survival with such limited resources and knowledge on who yjh even is, and yet despite it all, still manages to write a story that captures so much of his essence. As orv readers, we know it isn’t everything- it could never encapsulate all of yjh, but the idea that even when one knows nearly nothing, you can still put on a facade of understanding.

We can get into a chicken or the egg argument with this, as 1863!hsy dictates how yjh acts with her writing, and that yjh in the 1863rd round is the one she comes to know before ever starting this story, but when it comes to this theme of the unknowable in the people around us, I don’t think this sort of debate is worth much. We know that yjh exists outside the story written, and how much of him is determined by hsy’s writing is negligible because no matter what, he always grows beyond it. Whether as 1864 or secretive plotter, it all comes back to that same point of there is always more to see within a person.

I don’t know quite where I want to go with this, only that I wanted an outlet for some of these thoughts inside my head, but one of the best things about this theme for me is how it answers itself. When the people around you become unrecognizable, what should you do? And orv says to reach out. To try. To understand. Kdj loses access to omniscient reader several times but always, always gains it back in orv (as far as i remember), because at the end of the day, he is not someone who stays trapped in his idea of who he knows yjh to be. Yjh too, even at the end of orv, is trying to learn more and more about kdj. Only when you are willing to hear out the other person, to learn about them every day, does this unknowable aspect become something less daunting.

[hplonesomeart]

Wohoo animation update I guess wow cool fast paced camera pan stuff wowwww

[oc-cinematic-universe]

thinkin about death being a teacher in the school. in a lot of ways hes kind of just a joke. like haha yeah the god of death just works here. nobody knows why. hes just chillin and he wont leave. what are you gonna do about it? hes god.

but also like. hes very close friends with dara. theyve known each other for decades and he wont leave. death never leaves her. keeps following her. and he just wont let her die. people have died around her for so long so many times and yet shes still here the same as she was. her lack of aging was not his doing but he does try so hard to keep her going, keeps pushing her to keep waking up every day and moving forward. he wont let her die. i dont think he would know how to let her die if it came down to it.

death doesnt know a thing about grief. he sees other people experience it but he doesnt know what it is really. hes never lost someone hes known. but would it matter if he did? he'll just see them again in the underworld. he doesnt get to care, his entire job is to take them to his house after theyre gone and let them hang out its not a big deal right? but he doesnt let dara die. its just a habit at this point maybe. he doesnt know. he cant examine that. its just the right thing to do, to help her keep going, hed feel bad if he didnt. so the god of death stays in the school because of 1 person that he cant bear to leave

[gachaparadise]

ahhh the Penacony leaks are really coming in now.

*chuckles* I'm in danger.

[ngc-5194]

lem lemon What are ur thoughts on trigun so far

put that silly littleguy in a Situation

[obitv]

man i dont know im not a guy who does shit. ok. im a guy who talks to his friends and thats why i get followers bc im funny and likeable and NOT AN ASSHOLE OK IM NOT. whatever. but see for that i need to actually.. make posts. but i just like to diaryblog bc i cant make real words that make sense

[undyinglantern]

then again i tend to immediately look up anything i don't understand when i come across it. watching a movie? hit pause and look it up. reading a story? stop reading story to read up whatever was mentioned that i didn't understand. something references something i'm unfamiliar with? look up -at the very least- a synopsis of what's being referenced

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Weird Strange Warmth, Thailand

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Sept 2024 Week 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 1 of 12 - Oh it’s fucking great. What a fantastic start! It’s a fun cast too. I adore seeing all of the familiar faces. This is a lot more fun than Kidnap (sorry GMMTV, do better). I mean both shows are serving the same kind of concept but with completely different energy. I love that War is playing phi in this series. I think it suits him much better. In fact. I really like these rolls for this pair. I think they’re gonna knock it outta the park. I am so happy this is good. I wanted it to be good. And it’s good!

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) ep 8 of 12 - Oh no! He read the journal. No snooping! Well I guess they needed to get some tension for these 2 from somewhere, otherwise they are too good to each other. Meanwhile, I’m not sure about the sides in this particular series. I don’t hate them. The laundry jealousy moment was pretty well done. But I'm not sold, either.

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 5 of 10 - I forgot that we were already on the ICONIC kidnapping section of the narrative. I miss Gu Hai's OBEY sweatshirt from the original. (Someday I will own that sweatshirt.) Hero should at least be wearing an OBEY T-shirt. Frankly I miss the harshness of the original too. Johnny Huang was just so massive, August doesn't have the physicality to carry this scene off. Nor does Thailand have the guts to push it into the creepy obsessive territory that made the first version so thrilling to watch.

The thing about the original kidnapping bit was we could feel Gu Hai's vibrating need to possess overriding everything else (including his sense of humor and frustration with himself). Gu Hai KNOWS kidnapping was an over reaction, he KNOWS he is being absurd, he just doesn't care. Because he doesn't just want to fuck Bai Luo Yin he wants to consume him.

We didn't get any of that from Hero. Hero, as a character, just isn't edgy enough to carry off a kidnapping, he's been softened too much in this new Thai form.

And then... An around the back of head not-kiss? Interesting choice. (Checks to see if BoomPeak are hanging out nearby.) Is that because the actor is under age? We in that head space for this whole show? (Pun intended.) Not sure how I feel about any of it.

It’s a much milder confession this time around, because it’s Thailand, but it’s still warped. So I’m still here for the weird strange warmth of this damn show. I did laugh a lot during this episode. 

Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 2 of 12 - Oh I am very much enjoying this.

"You’re the worst kidnapper I ever ever met" is an apt accusation.

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 7 of 12 - I kinda enjoyed the little side romance story (wealthy writer intellectual + poor local salt-of-the-earth boy = Love Seaing all over my damn screen). It came outta nowhere but... okay.

I honestly have no idea what’s going on with this show. But the kisses are nice. And I pretty much like all of the couples. It’s wild how disjointed it is but simultaneously how pretty. It’s like Star Hunter got hold of Mame’s budget and aesthetic. 

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 9 of 12 - Boyfriend era to the max. Production is still ignoring the whole "dreaming the future" POINT OF THIS SHOW.

The Trainee (Sun YT) ep 11 of 12 - Jane is VERY COOL. Like tay-style cool… as it were. I like their dynamic when they're given one to play with. It’s the rest of this show I don’t enjoy. 

Live in Love (Sun Gaga) ep 2 of 5 - It cute. Bit odd but cute. I like the language play, of course. It’s an interesting pair to watch flirt because it’s all language play so that's fun but otherwise, I'm not convinced.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) eps 7-8 of 12 - This BL doesn’t drink from the water bottle to show off its neck. It quietly hands you the water bottle and expects you to understand that is not an act of generosity but of polite distancing. It's about the delicacy of the messaging, and the way themes are conveyed with such nuance.

This story is entirely about the two of them figuring out about each other, and then trying to be what the other person needs based on that information. It means they (and therefore we) are on this journey of discovering affection together. It's brilliant.

I must talk about the physical acting of these two for a second. That scene where they’re fighting over the book and then fall into the pool. That was one take. That’s amazing. These two are really fucking stellar not only at acting but hitting their marks. And let's be clear, that is NOT the same thing. I bet they both have stage training.

Define irony: watching two abandoned kids counsel their respective parents through abandonment issues.

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 6 of 10 - It is stupid cute and utterly charming. They are total boyfriends. It’s just that one of them wants to be and one of them assumes they already are. Actually, nevermind boyfriends, they’re married.

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 12fin - It made me whimper a lot because they’re both hurting so much. But in the end it was... fine.

Summation

The compassionate story of a college kid going deaf and the one boy he can hear. I love this manga and was let down by the first adaptation (Silhouette of Your Voice), so I was expecting a lot from this BL. I expected the soundscapes in this one to be fantastic, and the were, but I didn’t expect the filming to be something special too. But it really is. The acting is great too. But the story? It was just fine. They spent far too much time on the build to a relationship, then wallowed in their separation and a problematic girl character, when they should have been showcasing Taichi's character arc and his capacity for connection. Perhaps Japan should pass this one off to Thailand, It's a soft story centering on "food as love" so they might do better with it. I am, yet again, disappointed. 8/10 but I want to give it a 7/10

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 9-10 of 12 - It’s fine. it’s cute. I enjoyed getting some backstory. More of the sides, please.

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 7 - Honestly, why don’t they just call this entire series The Cheating Diaries and have done with it? I’m only watching it because there’s basically nothing else from Korea right now. But I’m generally mad about it. Including the fact that everybody is so pretty and the acting is so good in the series, but the stories are so terrible.

It's airing but...

The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai being converted into a café. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.

Happy of the End (Japan Tues Gaga) - A boy is disowned for being gay, dumped by his boyfriend, and ends up in a dysfunctional co-dependant relationship with his would-be kidnapper. We were due for another messy JBL and it's exactly as expected. I do not like it at all. And ya know what? There is plenty airing. DNF 

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever (Korea iQIYI & Viki) 6 eps - Side couple from Unintentional Love Story, HoTae & DongHee, return for a spin off backstory show.

It started out fantastic. And it was a relief to have a good Korean BL finally back on my screen, even a high angst one. But I did spend a lot of time trying trying to figure out whether they’re going to rehash or reboot from the previous series. Are we in Between Us territory or Don't Say No or (heaven forbid) To My Star 2?

None of the above, it turns out.

This was a pure prequel about lost first love. As such, it has no real finale beyond what we got in ULS. Which, for this pair, wasn't satisfying. Putting my disappointment over this aspect aside, it is enjoyable on the strength of the characters, actors, and chemistry (if not story). Yes I said chemistry, the kissing is fantastic, sometimes KBL can do that. This one featured the "teach me to kiss trope"!!!! Plus language play. Both favorites of mine. It is all angst, ache, repression, and miles of subtext. It did fudge the ending by not skipping forward and over the events in ULS to depict what happened next (what, no year long time jump when we actually need it, Korea?) It's a worthy companion piece, but should be watched BEFORE ULS for maximum satisfaction, and even then you're going to be left feeling like HoTae & DongHee's relationship was never adequately discussed or depicted in order to achieve resolution.

The little cameo of my baby in ep 5 was much appreciated. But the motorcycle should’ve been set up a little bit more. Of course I wanted it to be about them getting together after the events in the first series. But this was all backstory from start to finish. And while it was good backstory, it wasn’t ultimately satisfying for these characters. Still it’s a good little series. 8/10 

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging. It's just taking me some time. This isn't really a bingable show, not for me anyway. It's A LOT to take all at once. No new one this week.

4 Minutes (Gaga) Ended - Spies reported in to say the ending was not-exactly-unhappy and mostly lackluster. I'm torn over whether to watch. My natural disinclination to binge, meets my dissatisfaction with wishy-washy, is going up against my love for fabulous high heat and pretty pretty men.

Mitsuya-sensei no keimakutekina ezuke finished and it’s reported to be solid. Age gap treated with respect. I'm curious, so I'll check it out. Not doing very well on binging and catching up but it's on the docket...

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Still Coming Sept 2024:

9/15 Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) 15 eps - Remake of the original. I'm scared too.

9/15 Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) 10 eps - Assistant to a player boss who is in love with that boss decides to quit to save himself. The boss then makes a move. (A gay What's up with Secretary Kim?)

9/17 Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 10 eps - Lawyer and a con artist meet at a bar, pair up, fall in love.

9/28 Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YouTube) ?? eps - oh I don't know just Ba Vinh doing his thing with pretty boys again.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Love a teach me to kiss, teach me to fuck, whatever moment. (I Saw You In My Dreams sides)

Not gonna lie. I laughed. Addicted.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many at-ings.

[minustwofingers]

cool about it teaser

pairing: closetedfem!reader x ellie

request? yes, by @gold-dustwomxn (:

summary: life in the apocalypse is hard enough. the last thing you need is unrequited feelings for your best friend—who is very much off limits. so you'll just be cool about it. really cool about it. set in a loose interpretation of canon where i toy around with the timeline and storyline just the slightest and this is also a bit of a slowburn

warnings: ur closeted asf, queer angst, gross men, explicit language, substance use

a/n: hey guys i haven't really been posting much recently, but i wanted to at least post two scenes from this series so u guys have an idea of what to expect...also so u guys can tell me which one you want me to work on more (love is a laserquest or this one). i hope u enjoy...sorry this one is a little disjointed! (there are many events that happen between the two scenes im sharing w u as a little treat)

I. (opening scene)

The revelation that your feelings towards your best friend had become complicated arrives with the dead of winter. It’s strange, really, how something within you came to life just as the rest of the world began to die. 

If you were wiser, you’d find ways to explain it away, to rationalize all the weird thoughts in your head. You’d cite the chill in the air. The holiday spirit running through Jackson. The desolation that came with your only outdoor companions being the brown corpses of deciduous trees and infected that hadn’t frozen in the winter storms that kept battering Wyoming. 

But with age came wisdom, and both of those virtues were in short supply in a post-apocalyptic world. So, you resign yourself to cataloging away these feelings and pretending like everything was absolutely normal and cool. 

The bad thing about having good things, you think to yourself bitterly one day as you watch Ellie’s eyes light up as she rambles in her room as you sit on her bed about a comic book Joel had found her, is that they’re risky. High risk—high reward. Ellie was special to you in a way that no one else was. And using this logic, losing her would bring such an unforeseen devastation that you weren’t sure that you could go on. 

So, normal. Cool. Chill. Because you cannot afford to fuck this one up. 

“I love when you tell me about your comics,” you tell her in a way that’s definitely not sappy sweet and gooey. 

She smiles crookedly back at you. “You’re such a fucking liar. I know you couldn’t give a shit about these.” 

“Am not!” You throw a punch at her arm, feeling your heart twist as she just grins wider. “For the record, I do give a shit. Many, actually.”

“That sounds gross.” 

“Your words, not mine.” 

And it’s absolutely gut wrenching how she can just smile at you like that, like she’s not holding your heart in her fist.

“So, uh, Cat,” you blurt out. You’d been staring at her for too long. “Dina said that you two were—uh…” 

You wave your hand around in the air like you’re sifting through thousands of possible word combinations. In reality, you know exactly what you need to say to get the answer you’re searching for. You just don’t want to ask. 

“Well…” She blushes. Her eyes drop to her hands, where her fingers are toying with the bits of cuticle she hasn’t already torn off. 

“I knew it!” you croon, hoping that the boatload of dread that just dropped in your stomach isn’t as obvious as it feels. “Tell me everything.”

“Nothing to tell,” she says. “Nothing yet, at least. It’s stupid but—I just noticed that she hangs around me a lot, you know? And, like, touches me more than she needs to. Shit like that. I dunno.”

The wound deep inside you splits like the fake grin on your lips. “Wowwwww. Look at you!” 

Ellie rolls her eyes. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I mean,” she says, her eyes twinkling conspiratorially, “What about Eddie? Jesse told me that you spend a lot of time with him.”

“We’re patrol partners,” you offer. It’s not a lie. You’re just choosing to omit the part where Eddie spends half his patrol staring longingly in your direction while you pretend not to notice. 

“I know that.”

“It’s…” You gnaw on your bottom lip. “I don’t know how I feel about that right now.” 

That’s not a lie either. Eddie is…nice. All the other girls like him, except for Dina (she has Jesse) and Ellie (she has another very obvious reason). He’s attractive. At least, that’s what Bonnie tells you. Apparently the buzzed hair and heavy bluntness found in all of his features is considered hot. 

But just because you’re not into him now doesn’t mean you could never be. That’s what your mother used to say about your father—she hadn’t liked him upon their first meeting. But it changed with time, and you’d rather have someone than be all alone. 

Ellie hums, picking at the cuticle of her thumb. “He likes you.”

“So I’ve heard.” 

“Well,” she says, “I heard Jesse’s putting on another bonfire tonight. Want to walk there together after dinner?” 

You spend another evening staring across the fire at your best friend, watching the warm glow of the flames warp and distort the shape of her and Cat, pressed up against each other and smiling wide. You aren’t sure why it makes you so uncomfortable to see them together. Homophobia? No. Maybe? You recently learned that that was a thing, but you don’t consider yourself bigoted, and being a homophobe is more of an opt-in situation, right? 

But when you try to reach deep inside to find a more plausible answer, there’s nothing. 

It’s your detachment from reality that lets Eddie drape a heavy, hard arm over your shoulder. 

“Hey,” he whispers into your ear. His breath is hot and warm. 

“Hey,” you whisper back, wanting nothing more than to get away. Thankfully, Ellie is too preoccupied with Cat to even look your way. You’re sure that you’d die if she saw Eddie touching you like this. 

“You look really pretty tonight.”

“Thank you.”

It’s like someone shone a spotlight on you, hung a sign on your neck that said, I am perceived and desired by men. You don’t know why this makes your skin crawl so much. 

Eddie’s fingers are tracing patterns on the flesh of your arm. You find that you’re grateful for the extra layer your sweatshirt sleeve provides. You don’t want him to touch you—don’t want to know what it’s like for him to deliberately make contact with your skin. 

The next time he speaks to you, it’s in a murmur that you suppose is meant to sound seductive. “You’re quiet today.”

“Just a little tired.” And now you feel guilty, because Eddie really hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s you who has an issue with a boy who’s perfectly nice and clearly likes you. 

He laughs like you’d said something funny, tightening his arm so you press into his side. His body is blazing hot like a furnace, and it feels hard and foreign.

II. (scene from somewhere in the middle )

“Sorry!” You titter at the crowd of your friends who formed at the sliding glass door. “Um—sorry.” 

It seems to be the only thing you can say. 

“Cat,” Ellie says, an edge of desperation in her voice. “Cat, please, it’s not like—”

“I’m pretty fucking sure of what I saw,” snaps Cat. She turns to Eddie, a vicious glint in her eyes. “Didn’t know your girl swung that way.” 

And then she shoves past the mass of people, Ellie kicking off from the deck railing with a stream of apologies falling from her lips as she follows behind. 

Eddie walks forward, confusion the dominant emotion in his wide face.

“Uh—I didn’t—”

“I’m really drunk,” you say to him, feeling the tears begin to spill down your cheeks. “It’s not like that. I promise it’s not like that. I don’t know why I did that.”

“Hey,” he says, opening his arms. “Come here. Why are you crying?” 

“I don’t know,” you sputter, stepping into him and pressing your snotty face into his shirt. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Fuck.”

“It’s really okay.” His hand finds the flat part of your back between your shoulder blade and rubs circles. “It’s just a chick. If it were, like, I dunno, Jesse, I would’ve been angry.”

“You’re not mad?” you ask, pulling away to look up at him. Maybe there’s something tonight you didn’t ruin. 

He smiles down at you. “‘Course not. Some guys find that shit hot, you know. Two girls kissing like that.”

The smile that seemed so innocent at first sends a sharp, chilling pang through your chest. He doesn’t seem to notice your hesitation in the way your face falls as his head dips to kiss you, doesn’t seem to register the disgust you exhibit until you have to shove yourself away.

“I’m really drunk,” you repeat, looking anywhere but his face. “I want to go to bed.” 

“I can come—”

“No.”

final a/n: like i said so sorry about how disjointed this is. i just want to get a feel for what my readers are more interested in for now!!

[deenabeck]

Scoutguest

I want to talk about an episode of Craig of the Creek that I’m so so thankful and proud to have been able to do: “Scout Guest”

I’m just gonna go through bits and pieces of the process, and I apologize if it’s a little disjointed or messy as I do.

Back in 2020 I made these tweets:

I was so simultaneously happy and saddened to read how much this resonated with so many people. But also I’ve been thinking about these things… my whole life! Trying to navigate the messiness of childhood, family dynamics, love, nurture, care and self worth. Everyone on Craig of the Creek has always been open to listening and exploring people’s stories that they wanted to tell and this was a topic I wanted to talk about, it just took a while to figure out a way to do it that made sense for the show and our characters. I think I pitched a couple ideas here and there but nothing was quite working out yet.

Then I finally pitched an idea revolving Jason, one of our characters I got to play around a lot with in previous seasons. They liked it, and asked me to write up a little run down of what I envisioned the story would be. This is what I sent them:

The amazing writers took this idea and ran with it and when the time came for the outline to be handed out, I was so thankful I also got to board this story as well. They brought in the super talented Danny Cragg which I was so thankful for, too ‘cause I really felt like he’d be able to handle this kind of story with care.

Here are my original boards from that episode most things stayed the same but it’s fun to see the little bits that got changed or cut.

Boards_ScoutGuest_part1.pdf

from

DeenaBeck

Boards_ScoutGuest_part2.pdf

from

DeenaBeck

It took me a while to figure out how to frame a story like this while also maintaining the POV being with one of our main characters. So I thought about a time in my life from the perspective of a kid outside looking in and having to interact with the messiness. I shared a little bit of that over on twitter as well:

 So, in a way, through Jason, I got to tell a little bit of my story. I know when we did the first pitch of the boards one of the things that came up was the question of what IS the reason Jason can’t be at home that night? And I purposely wanted it to be unanswered. I wanted to cast as wide of a net as possible for anyone that maybe didn’t have the same story as me, or someone else, but that we all could understand the FEELINGS that Jason has. I wanted as many people as possible to be able to see themselves in Jason in that moment. 

Again, I am so glad and yet so saddened to know so many of you resonated with this story. I’m sorry it’s a story that needs to be told, but I’m so very thankful we got to tell it.

[0kayblue]

Choices

Choices 

A drunken kiss, unspoken feelings, and a nasty argument leaves Leon in a cracked state. Painfully stuck in the crossroads of realization that nothing is going to get better until he starts talking and actively takes the steps to come to terms with his past and his disjointed emotions. 

Word count: Almost 5k (not throughly proof read)

Angst. Language. Gun mentioned. Drinking mentioned. Happy ending. Partners to friends to lovers? The timeline is a little funky so let me explain: the events of Raccoon City take place in 2004 and that places this story towards the start of 2011.

A/N: Long time no see, huh? Things got heavy and they got heavy fast. Between vacation, moving, and the holidays; I’ve kinda fallen off the face of the planet. But it is what it is and I’m back for a minute or two. 

As far as requests are concerned I’m working on them, but I get distracted with other ideas. My google doc is full of rough outlines and unfinished works in progress. I don’t have any idea when things will come out, they just will. I apologize, but damn, life is stressful. 

Anyway, I hope you all are having a lovely day, week, month, and year. Please enjoy!!

“Hey. . .” Leon starts, his voice low and like gravel with uncertainty. A sense of deprecating self-consciousness following in the silence, before he lets out a frustrated huff. “You didn’t pick up, not that I’m surprised. . .but still, it hurts.” He admits as his grip on his phone grows tighter before it loosens and a conflicted sigh leaves him. 

“I’m. . .sorry.” He struggles with the apology as he shuts his eyes and another exasperated sigh leaves him, “Truly, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did and I shouldn’t have pointed the finger at you. It’s not your fault and it never has been. I need you to know that, I need you to know that I know how I’ve been acting lately is stupid and. . .” He stops as he opens his eyes and looks around the dim space of his empty living room, the loneliness of this moment threatening to swallow him whole. The numbing silence of the room mixed with the silence on the other end of the phone became too much to handle causing him to swallow the confession on the tip of his tongue. 

He licks the dryness from his lips as his other hand goes to massage his forehead in a stiff and irritated manner. He sucks his teeth as his hand falls while he lets out a disheartened sigh as the words fall from his lips, “I can’t do this without you here.” He admits with frustrated sorrow, “I need to see you. I need you to look at me. I need you to. . .I just need you.” 

The static of the other empty line cuts through silence like a rusted combat knife through brittle sheet metal. Leon’s lips part for another sigh to escape him, but it never does. The air stays lodged in his throat before he painfully swallows. 

“Look,” The word came out dry and somewhat short, before he clears his throat. “I’ve got some things I have to deal with, but if you could come over just for a moment—or at least call me back– it doesn’t have to be tonight; but sometime.” He can’t stop it from sounding like a desperate ramble; a plea for your silence to be broken.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back, but it probably won’t be until the early hours of the morning so if you could just at least call me back tonight. Let me know you’re okay. You don’t have to give me any other information and I won’t ask, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He explains softly, biting his tongue to keep himself from making the accusations that scream at him. 

He opens his mouth to say more, to at least say ‘bye’; but he can’t, so he pulls the phone away from his ear and he ends the call. A frustrated grunt leaving him as he peers down at your contact photo, his gaze softening as he studies the smile on your face. The photo one that he cherishes with every heart string he has; a moment he was able to capture without you knowing. The rarity of being able to capture a genuine smile on your face. He recalls the day fondly and for a moment a smile curls at his lips until he eyes glance at the time in the top left corner of the thin device. He locks his phone as he stands from the loveseat you often perched yourself in whenever you were over, the seat cushion practically molded to only sit your frame comfortably. 

Putting the phone in his pocket he makes his way through the kitchen and to the door that leads to the garage; grabbing his car keys from the key hooks by the door and opening the garage door. 

The dark of night not holding its usual tranquility as the earthy smell of the heavy rain floods his nostrils. It’s eerily fitting given his current circumstances and it makes his skin crawl slightly as he gets into the driver seat and starts the car. Putting the car in reverse he backs out of the garage, his ears starting to ring slightly as the quietness of the night floods the car. A slight scoff leaves him as he goes to shut the garage door and he heads north towards his destination. 

—------------------------------------------------------------

Leon drives for hours in silence trying to put his head together. Trying to string together what exactly he wants to say while also remaining focused on the road ahead. All his thoughts scattered and disorganized; any sense of pulling it together immediately wiped out whenever his phone buzzed. A thin line of hope is always shattered when he glances at it and it’s just another notification about god knows what. It didn’t matter and he didn’t care because it was never your name on the screen. 

It felt as if you were playing this silent treatment thing as if your life depended on it and it was killing him. Suffocating him. Each ping brings him above the tidal wave for just a moment before being dragged back under by the force of the freezing crisp waves. He could almost taste the bitter salt water with each defeated sigh of disappointment. 

His glare on the road sharpens as he sees the abandoned gas station, slows, and makes the sharp right turn into the parking lot. The sound of stray gravel gritting against the tread of the tires as the car reaches its destination, Leon on the other hand still has another hour until he reaches his. 

A single unmarked cruiser awaiting him parked perfectly in between two faded and barely visible white lines. He parks his own car a couple spots away from the cruiser before he shuts it off and steps out of the car, grabbing his phone and keys sliding them into his back pocket as he takes calculated steps to the cruiser. The rain only becomes more intense as he tries not to be affected by the cold laced into every drop that hits him, soaking his clothes slightly. 

“Should’ve brought an umbrella.” He mutters to himself as he opens the driver’s side door of the cruiser and gets in. He shakes slightly in an effort to get any excess water off before running a hand through his damp hair, the water slicking it back for just a moment before his bangs fall back into place. 

He leans over the center console and gets into the glove compartment on the passenger’s side. A single car key and a beretta 92fs pistol sit exactly where they were supposed to be. He opts for the cool metal of the hand gun as he picks it up and inspects the weapon briefly, leaving the safety on before he sets it in the passenger seat. He then takes the car key and starts the car, whereas his car was quiet the cruiser engine debates on whether or not to come to life and he almost took it as a sign to give up despite not being a superstitious man; but he digresses as the old cruiser decides that Leon is worth the ride. 

Just as he goes to put the car in reverse his phone pings and he immediately takes his hand from the gear shift and fishes for it with a grunt from his back pocket. A moment of relief leaves him as this time the contact that greets him is yours. Quick to unlock the phone he is greeted with a text of only one word:

 ‘Maybe.’ 

“Maybe?” He grumbles, “What the hell does that even mean?” He asks no one but himself and yet is met with the low rumble of the cruiser’s transmission. Before really thinking he goes and types a reply, staring at the message with a puzzled expression. 

‘Maybe what exactly?’ 

Surprisingly he barely moved before he got a reply.

‘Just maybe.’

He takes in a deep breath before letting it out in a shaky manner. Stubborn, you were always so stubborn. Of course he was too, but he was the one actively trying not to be this time. He was the one trying to get you to open up and not the other way around. Trying to get you to communicate with him, trying to get you to be vulnerable with him, trying to repair the rift between the two of you.

‘Can I get more than maybe?’

‘Please.’ 

He knows it’s his fault. He understands that regardless of how you left he still hurt you and you still had every right to be upset with him. Neither of you made anything official, never committed to anything, and he was a fool to think that a drunk kiss meant that his feelings were reciprocated and defined you both as an unit. He should have known that your avoidance of him the next day meant that something was off, but he convinced himself that you understood everything. That you knew everything he’s wanted to say for months. So, when he was informed of you being around someone who clearly was no good for you; he snapped.

‘I’ll be by.’

It wasn’t much, but it was something. A crumb that would subside the ache he felt. He lets out a sigh of relief as a small and soft smile finds his face. It was confirmation to him that he hasn’t lost you completely. He hadn’t lost you. 

‘When?’ 

‘Tonight. Please.’

He stares at the screen waiting for a reply he doubts he will get; so he isn’t surprised as agonizing seconds turn into minutes. Glancing at the time he knows he needs to move, and he will. Just a minute more. 

A minute passes, then two, and still no reply. He runs a hand through his hair before it finds the steering wheel, gripping it with force. Trying to let out some of the agitation he felt in the least harmful way possible. He tosses the phone into the passenger seat before taking his leave. 

—------------------------------------------------------------

Leon pulls up to the agreed upon meeting spot, the headlights of the cruiser reflecting off of the multiple ‘WARNING’ and ‘DANGER’ signs. All signs informing the public to stay clear of the abandoned wreckage that was the nightmare that started his adult life. 

He clenched his teeth as he parks the cruiser and before killing the engine he scrutinizes the rusted, faded, and graffitied sign that read: 

‘Welcome to Raccoon City

Home of Umbrella’

He can’t help the cold unforgiving glare that hardens his features as he stares intensely at that damn sign. A sign that he once was looking forward to seeing, a sign that was supposed to harken in a new beginning for him. A chapter of his life that he never got to write the way he intended too. 

He forces himself to look away as he kills the engine. All that anger and contempt in every movement he makes; the emotions barely subtle as he grabs the pistol and makes his leave from the cruiser. Uncleaned debris crunching under the harsh step of his sturdy weight. The former storm subsided to a gentle drizzle. As if the weather was deciding to be gentle towards him, to be kind as he faced the location of so much of his trauma. Dulled screams and flashbacks of all the things he saw that night flashing throughout every corner of his brain. He grits his teeth as he slams the door of the cruiser shut, the heavy bang ceasing the noise. The memories. 

He keeps his focus trained ahead as he strides closer to the steel chain fencing with sturdy steps, the dim yellow light from aged street lights illuminating his path with a dull hum. Unclenching his jaw he puts the pistol into the tight waistband of his jeans as he starts to climb the rusted fence that murmurs whines underneath the weight of his body. 

Getting to the top he throws one leg over before deciding to make the jump to the other side. A grunt leaves him as the soles of his shoes make contact with the pitch black pavement, a sharp yet brief pain shooting up his legs. Standing up straight he pulls the pistol from his waistband, shuts the safety off, and proceeds forward. Acutely aware of his surroundings as his stomach starts to turn and bile threatens to creep up his throat. 

Luckily he doesn’t have to travel far as the person he is set to meet waits in the shadows, the click of her heels against the damp pavement making Leon fully aware of her presence as he points the gun at her out of fear. It isn’t until she steps closer that he lowers his weapon. 

“Leon.” Ada says as she looks at him intently. Giving him a once over before she speaks again, “Someone is jumpy, I see.” 

“Yeah, well, it’s the location.” Leon says as he stands up straight, his shoulders remaining tense. Ada nods in a sense of understanding. 

“You went through it to track me down and I’ll admit I’m impressed; but I have to ask: why?” Ada’s voice is smooth and low, clearly guarded. 

“There’s something I have to talk to you about. Something I need to address.” He admits. 

Ada studies him, the tension he carries nearly slapping her across the face; and she knows all the blame can’t just be put on the location. The rubble on the street is a physical representation of the crumbs of trust that was shared between the two of them. 

“So, then why go through the trouble?” She inquires, her brow raising slightly, “I’m certain whatever it is you are here to-.” 

“No, I need you to hear what I have to say.” He says cutting her off. Clearly uncomfortable, unfamiliar, and direct with her; this whole situation reeking of a rotten smell that they could practically taste. 

“Different.” She simply states, very different from their previous meeting six months prior in the rural misty mountainous region of Spain. A change that was lost on her is now clearly present. It’s rough, jagged; and not something she is used to when it comes to him. 

The two stare at each other in silence, trying to piece each other together. A clear lack of communication ringing out into the night, something that wasn’t uncommon between the two. 

“Do you-.” Leon starts but suddenly stops the question in its tracks. He knew the answer and it was pointless to even ask; so he opts for the next question, “Why didn’t you try and reach out?” 

The question takes Ada aback and it shows physically as her eyes widen just slightly before returning to that uncaring gaze. She ponders on how to approach this. On what to say. Coming up short she decides not to say anything regarding the subject; so she changes it. 

“Is this about them?” She asks and immediately Leon plants his feet. Knowing that her them meant you; and the feeling didn’t settle well in his bones. His teeth gritted together as his jaw locked. Yet, the fact of the matter remained: she was partly right. 

“It is, isn’t it.” Ada states as she crosses her arms, a sense of pride finding her as she figured him out so quickly. 

“And if it is?” Leon asks, hoping in vain to throw her off the scent by playing this with a harsh coyness. 

“You’re still hung up over a kiss?” Ada asks, the question slipping from her lips without thinking. A rarity from her, so much so that it takes her aback as the harshness of her words hits Leon with a pang of disappointment. 

“That’s not what I’m hung up on.” Leon answers, bitterness clinging to each word, “I’m hung up on the fact that after everything I—everything we—went through you didn’t even try to tell me you survived that fall. That you survived and you didn’t bother to at least leave me something to show you were still alive; and don’t even try and say you couldn’t find me. You could have. Easily.” His voice grew stronger with every word he spoke, his conflicting emotions present in each syllable. 

Ada is stunned by his candor, the hurt that she caused him present leaving her baffled and grasping for straws. He was being raw here, he was showing her his cards that he held so tightly to his chest. 

“That night was the ending to so much. That night—to me— was an unimaginable horror I was not prepared to face; and you…you were right there. You knew so much more than I did and you remained cryptic.” Leon states with a defeated and heavy breath, “It’s easy to direct my anger there; but I know that’s not where it belongs. That isn’t where my heart places it, even though it probably should be because you played it like a fiddle; but that’s not it. Not the way you used me. Manipulated me. What it is in all honesty is the fact that I couldn’t save you. That you slipped from my grip, but yet you still cling to me.” 

Silence falls between the two again, but this time it’s different. It’s not a burden even though it remains heavy.  

“So you tracked me down to tell me this?” 

“I tracked you down so you can let me go.”

The statement left Leon in one breath as he looked at her with a softness to his eyes. A vulnerability in his gaze that swallowed Ada whole. The lack of light behind his eyes shadowing her in a darkness she never expected to feel from him. Her own emotions are becoming hard to keep in check, as her insides start to simmer with an almost forgotten feeling. 

The silence clings to their clothes as the night time air becomes lodged in Leon’s throat. Nearly choking him as he examined Ada intently, trying to guess her next move. Trying to put himself in her shoes long enough to figure out what she might be thinking; but all of this was so foreign. So he retreated back into his own head and just decided it was best to let her move from here. He decided it was best to just stop; and that decision flooded his body with relief. His jaw relaxing, his shoulder falling slightly, his knees no longer locked; the utter relief he felt just voicing how he felt was something he least expected.

“Okay.” Ada said, breaking the silence. This newfound development changed something in her that she couldn’t pinpoint. Something half of her refused to pinpoint. This growth she sees from him changes her perception of him. 

“Okay.” Leon repeats with a small nod as the subtle rain drops that have been hitting him start to increase. They stand in a tense awkward silence as the wind starts to pick up and begin to howl a broken howl that wavered like a gasped sob. Leon turns to leave before the rain starts to heavily pour again, but the question that falls from Ada causes him to stop. 

“Are you doing this all for them?” She asks, crossing her arms. While Leon looks at her with confliction, still not pleased with her need to keep you in the conversation. 

“Not completely.” He answers; and that is the truth. He needed this for himself, he knew that; but it would be a lie if you didn’t inspire him to take the leap. That you didn’t assure him that he didn’t have to constantly be fighting this inner turmoil, that he could form some type of peace with it; and most importantly that he didn’t have to do it alone. He deserved to care for himself, something he never considered until he felt the gentle warmth of your care. 

“I’d prefer if you would leave them out of it.” Leon says, a protective pitch in his tone that packed a subtle bite. It didn’t catch her off guard, it was him she was dealing with; and she knew that regardless of the strengths she had briefly seen from you in Spain that Leon would still be protective of you. 

So, Ada just nods, turns, and takes her leave,“Goodbye, Leon.” Ada says as Leon watches her walk back towards what he assumed was her entry point was located. 

As her form disappears into the black of night Leon lets out a deep breath with a slight shake of his head; his limbs heavy from the strain of the stress he carried in them.

“Goodbye, Ada.” 

———————————————————--------------------------

It was nearly four in the morning when Leon pulled into his garage. Your vehicle was nowhere in his line of sight as he pulled up to his house. Not that he was surprised, your answer was just a maybe, and he didn’t want you to push yourself out of the realms of something you weren’t comfortable doing just yet. At least he let you know that you weren’t ignoring him completely and that was enough for the time being. 

He shuts off the car as an exhausted sigh leaves him while his hand runs down his face. His head starts to gently pound as he pinches the bridge of his nose. The emotional rollercoaster he has been on starts to churn his stomach, reminding him why he didn’t bother with this stuff for so long in the first place. It hurt. Everywhere. 

He closes the garage as he gets out of the car and makes his way inside. Placing his keys back on the hook, kicking off his shoes, and starting to remove his jacket he stops as he hears the muffled sound of a sitcom laugh track coming from the living room. His chest swells with hope as he quickly disregards his jacket and shoes and with large gentle strides he makes his way into the living room. His heart nearly stops when he sees you asleep on the couch. 

Stopping in his tracks he watches the soft rise and fall of your chest, you were completely and utterly lost in what he hoped was a peaceful slumber. Your arms tucked close to your chest. Your hair fanned out over the couch cushion and the arm of the couch. He fought back how he wanted to run his hand through your hair. How tempting it looked, how he knew nothing brought you more comfort than the feeling of gentle fingers working their way through your hair. He wanted to do that for you, he wanted to comfort you. He wants to give you whatever your heart desires. 

His breath hitches in his throat as he carefully sits on the edge of one of the couch cushions. His heart swells with so much love that it is overwhelming and for the first time within all of this his eyes start to glass over. Tears threatening to spill as a shaky hand slowly makes contact with the warmth of your scalp. His fingers intertwined with your hair as his thumb gingerly brushes the top of your head and a small breath of relief leaves him as he watches your body relax. He stifled a sob with a scoff as a smile found his face while he fixed his gaze on you. The person he holds the most dear. The person he would do whatever it took to just have by his side. 

A craving to show you the utmost love and affection, a craving to care for you so much deeper than what the two of you already had. He hoped with everything that you wanted more. That the ghost of your past hadn’t swallowed you up. That you would choose him. 

He finally sniffs, the sound of distress pulling you from sleep as your eyes open and find his piercing blue ones glassy with tears. You move to sit up as even in your groggy state your arms wrap around him to comfort him.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You coo as your torso presses against him while one hand rubs his back and the other makes its way into his hair as you rest your chin in the crook of his neck. “It’s okay.” You soothe while Leon takes in a strangled breath his arms wrapping tightly around you as he pulls you into his lap. 

“You came.” He utters, his voice breaking slightly. 

“You called.” You answer softly. 

Leon’s grip on you tightens as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, fresh hot thick tears starting to roll down his face. You gently mumble sweet reassurances as you rub his back, allowing him to cry, allowing him to let go of all the shit he has been holding onto. The fight. The end. The struggle. He’s letting go of all of it as he keeps a firm hold on you, clinging to you as if his life depended on it. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed anything and I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you for- for being with them. I- I shouldn’t have yelled. I should have told you how I felt. I should have-.” He chokes out his apology, the saltiness of his tears finding the pallet of his tongue.

“Shh, Leon, it’s okay.” You coo rubbing his back, “Don’t force yourself to speak when you aren’t ready. Take your time.” He fists the soft fabric of your shirt as he wonders what he ever did to know the comfort of your patience. 

As Leon begins to calm down his grip on you loosens, his breathing returning to normal as his chest no longer hitches with quiet sobs. You feel him start to relax and in turn your body loses its own stiffness. You continue to hold him to you, trailing the tips of your nails gingerly up and down a patch of his back. You had no idea where Leon had been, but whatever he did has obviously left him worse for wear. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask in a quiet whisper, concern ever present in your soft voice; and Leon can’t help himself.

“I love you.” He responds as he places a strong hand in between your shoulder blades keeping you pressed against him as he screws his eyes shut trying to commit this moment to memory. The feeling of your body pressed flush against his, the addictive pleasant scent of your perfume, the soft gentle flesh of your neck pressed against the scratch of his stubble. 

“I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have yelled. I should have talked to you directly. I should have seen everything.” He says as he regretfully pries himself away from you to look at you fully, his hands moving to cup your cheeks and hold your face gently in the palms of his hands. He watches the gears in your head start to turn through sparkling big doe eyes and his heart starts to melt. The realization that he wasn’t the only one that needed improvements becoming ever present as he brushes the side of his thumb over your cheek. 

“I love you and I am unbelievably sorry. Please, please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads as he studies your face, noting the way your bottom lip quivered ever so slightly. 

You both sit there in silence as he admires the sad beauty that are your features in this moment. He allows you to just sit there and feel, and think, and breathe. With all the patience in the world he waits for you. 

“I love you too.” You finally say quietly, the words falling from your lips in a hesitancy before you speak up again; but with more strength and convection, “I love you too.” 

A soft wide smile finds Leon’s face as he brings your lips to his in a soft, but desperate and passionate kiss. The taste of your lips are so much sweeter without the bitter taste of alcohol on them. Your arms snaking their way around his neck as you kiss him back the way you wanted to the first time he kissed you. His hands move to your waist to pull you closer to him as his tongue ghosts over your bottom lip. 

You part your lips allowing him access to explore the warmth of your mouth while crooking your head to the side as his tongue makes its way into your mouth. His tongue runs briefly over your teeth before it coils with your own and he sucks slightly causing a deep moan to reverberate from your chest and up your throat. 

The sound causes a smirk to curl at the corner of his lips as he parts from you regardless of how badly he wants to continue. He couldn’t help it, he had to see you; and the sight was worth it. The blissful peace on your face as you opened your eyes to look at him was worth it. A smile plastered on his face as he noted the tiredness in your eyes, the slight bags underneath them, and his hand finds your cheek as he places a kiss on your forehead. 

“Let's save the rest for tomorrow, okay? Let’s get you to bed.” He says as he moves to pick you up bridal style. He stands from the couch as your grip around him tightens as he makes his way to his bedroom.

“Leon.” You scold him slightly, but with no real seriousness to it. 

“Tomorrow.” He assures with a little nod, a playful smirk on his face. 

“Tomorrow.” You repeat with a little roll to your eyes.

[allastoredeer]

HIIIII your Just Kiss Already series has consumed me!!!! I’m OBSESSED! Do you have any idea how long it’ll be in total? I adore slow burns but also the painnnnn of waiting. I totally understand if you don’t know but I am constantly refreshing for updates even though I know this stuff takes time! Do you happen to have any recs for radioapple fics that are similar or you’d recommend to hold me over?

Hello! Sorry for the late response.

I'm still doing a bit of reading myself, I haven't gone through all the fics I've wanted to read, but here's some of the RadioApple I've found so far that I enjoyed:

Lucifer and His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Relationship by keelywolfe - A series following the overall dysfunction and strange terrain of Lucifer and Alastor's relationship...of sorts. There is smut involved. I really enjoy the fun, disjointed dynamic between them, especially with Lucifer having to learn/figure out how Alastor thinks to get a grasp of how to interact with him. Do mind the tags, there is some unhealthy relationship in there, miscommunication on both sides, lots of dysfunction involved, and smut, but I really enjoyed their interactions and how they're learning to read each other. Also, it has bottom!Alastor which is my favorite :3

My Kingdom Come Undone by literalmetaphor - Charlie roping Alastor and Lucifer into doing trust exercises to help them get along. Heheh I really like the humor in this one. Both Alastor and Lucifer are such petty little bitches, and it amuses me to no end. They do not hold back their verbal punches. I also really like a lot of the author's descriptions. They're fun and scratch my brain in just the right way. I haven't finished it just yet because I've been busy, but it's still open in my browser so I can get back to it whenever I get time.

Unhealthy Attachments by keelywolfe - More dynamic between Alastor and Lucifer, and what Alastor gets out of having sex with Lucifer (Rated E in case that wasn't obvious). Alastor and his strategic brain, and how that bleeds into the dynamics he builds with other people. I love getting insight into his brain like that. (Another bottom!Alastor fic because 😫👌 I love that shit).

And...huh, that's it, actually. I have a few more pulled up in my browser that I'm gonna get around to reading, but as for RadioApple these are the ones I bookmarked. LOL I'm actually just noticing how many RadioStatic fics I bookmarked.

Hope you enjoy these! I love fics with a fun, bitchy Alastor and a deep-dive into his brain and social interactions with other characters. It's my bread and butter.

EDIT: I forgot to answer your question at the beginning of the asks XD Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the series! I'm not sure how long the series is going to be just yet. I know, at the very least, they'll have to kiss, per the name. My brain loves developing plots though, so it may span longer and REALLY deep dive into Alastor and Lucifer's relationships and the trials and tribulations that put it to the test.

Hopefully, I can get around to writing the next part soon!

[cactus-cuddler]

The Witch's Throne

❀❁❀ Chapter 3

Series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

* ˚ ✦ Word count: 2 k

* ˚ ✦ Warnings: none

* ˚ ✦ Author's note: English isn't my first language so sorry for any mistakes!

The next morning, you awaken to find Natasha seated in a chair near the window, her gaze fixed on the horizon as she watches the sunrise with a serene, almost wistful smile.

“Good morning, Lady Romanoff,” you murmur, your voice thick with sleep as you try to adjust to the soft light of dawn. Natasha turns her head toward you, her expression gentle.

“Good morning, my queen,” she replies smoothly. The air between you feels thick with unspoken words, yet neither of you moves to fill the silence. Natasha soon returns her attention to the view outside, her presence both comforting and disquieting.

Minutes pass, the stillness in the room only broken by the soft rustling of sheets as you remain curled up in your large bed. Natasha stays rooted in her spot, unmoving, her thoughts seemingly miles away. You feel a pang of uncertainty—should you say something more, ask her how she is, invite her to join you for breakfast? None of these options seem to fit the delicate tension lingering from the previous night. The memories are disjointed, fragments of sensations more than clear recollections. You remember the cold thrill of the iron dagger, the metallic tang that lingered on your tongue. Natasha had spoken then, hinted at something deeper about your nature, a truth that still eludes you. Were those words merely in passing, or did they carry a weight you’ve yet to understand? The uncertainty gnaws at you.

Unable to resist the pull of curiosity any longer, you finally rise from bed, the silk sheets slipping off your body. “Lady Romanoff,” you begin tentatively, “could you step out for a moment so I can change?"

Natasha’s response is quick, her voice laced with playful teasing. “And who do you think dressed you in your nightgown after you passed out in my arms?” The corners of her lips curl into a mischievous smile. Her words send a flush of heat to your cheeks, surprising you with their boldness. Until two years ago, it was customary for your ladies to undress you, to help you bathe, to see you at your most vulnerable. But the thought of Natasha having handled you in such an intimate way stirs a strange unease within you.

“A queen who’s embarrassed to show herself?” she continues, her tone light, but her gaze is sharp, watching for your reaction.

You struggle to maintain your composure. “Of course not. Stay,” you reply, though the words feel hollow against the truth you wish you could voice: Yes, I am embarrassed. Please leave.

Slowly, you slip out of your nightgown, letting the soft fabric fall away, revealing your curves to the sunlight that spills into the room. Natasha’s eyes remain fixed on you, a heat in her gaze that makes your skin prickle with awareness. Feeling exposed, you finally ask, “Would you mind turning around?”

Natasha sighs, a touch of regret lacing the sound, but she obliges, turning her back to you with a lingering slowness that sends a shiver down your spine.

You dress in a long gown with balloon sleeves, but as your fingers fumble with the zipper at the back, you feel your resolve falter. “Can you help me?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with a shyness you don’t quite understand.

“Of course, my queen,” Natasha replies, her voice soothing. She steps closer, her right hand resting on your hip to hold the dress in place while her other hand begins to tug the zipper upward with deliberate slowness. Each movement of the fabric against your skin is agonizingly intimate, and the warmth of her touch sends your heartbeat into a wild rhythm, your breath catching in your throat. You struggle to maintain your composure, every sense heightened under her careful attention, as if her touch is unraveling more than just the fabric of your dress.

“If you’ll excuse me, my queen, I have work to attend to. We’ll discuss last night’s events later,” Natasha says, her tone clipped, as if holding back something more. You nod, watching her retreat with a mixture of curiosity and unease. Once she’s gone, you push the lingering thoughts aside, feeling the stirrings of hunger more keenly. Training can wait. You need sustenance.

“My queen!” one of your ladies exclaims, appearing at the threshold just as you exit your room. “I was coming to inform you that breakfast is ready.”

You offer her a nod of thanks and follow her to the dining room, where the solitary setting has become a familiar, if unwelcome, sight. The expanse of the table only accentuates your isolation, a throne of emptiness where once there was warmth.

As you take your seat, a messenger steps into the room, bowing quickly before speaking. “My queen, King Rogers has sent ambassadors who wish to speak with you.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Show them in and have the cook prepare something for them,” you instruct. The messenger bows again and swiftly exits.

Moments later, three men stride into the room, their clothing immaculate, marking them as men of high standing. They bow deeply before taking the seats you offer with a gracious gesture.

“Forgive the intrusion, Queen of Veloria,” one of the ambassadors begins, his voice smooth and practiced. “Our King, Steve Rogers, sends his deepest regrets for not being here in person. We have come with a proposal that we believe could benefit both our kingdoms.”

“Go on,” you say, your tone measured, though your mind races with possibilities.

The ambassador continues, his voice careful and diplomatic. “As you are aware, there has been no love lost between King Rogers and King Stark. Tensions are high, and any misstep could lead to a full-blown conflict. We are also aware of your recent agreement with King Stark, which, while advantageous for your kingdom, could present challenges for ours.”

You interrupt, leaning forward slightly. “My agreement with King Stark is non-negotiable. However,” you add, your voice taking on a more conciliatory tone, “I believe I could serve as a mediator between King Rogers and King Stark. A truce, or even an alliance, would be in the best interest of all our kingdoms. Don’t you agree?”

The ambassadors exchange glances, the tension in their posture easing. “You are right, Queen of Veloria,” one of them finally responds, his enthusiasm barely restrained. “We will relay your suggestion to King Rogers and seek his willingness for peace negotiations under your guidance. We will send word of the king’s decision as soon as possible. If you could also ascertain King Stark’s interest, it would strengthen our position.”

As they begin to rise, you gesture for them to stay. “Please, remain for a meal before you depart. It’s the least I can offer after such a journey.”

The ambassadors smile, a genuine warmth breaking through their formal demeanor. They settle back into their seats as the servants bring out dishes, and the room fills with the quiet clinking of cutlery and the rich aroma of a well-prepared feast.

As you finish your breakfast, your thoughts are a storm of strategy and diplomacy. Persuading these two kings to avoid war will be no simple task, but the stakes are too high for failure. The future of your kingdom, and perhaps more, hangs in the balance.

Natasha is still training your soldiers, and since her arrival, the ranks have swelled with eager young recruits. The sight of them, determined and resolute, brings a quiet sense of pride to your heart. Though there are no immediate threats on the horizon, these men and women understand the need to protect their families and homeland, a duty they embrace with fervor.

In a bold move, you’ve announced that women, too, may take up arms and receive training from Natasha. While the response was modest, those who have stepped forward train alongside the men with equal vigor. Natasha has taught them to exploit their natural balance—a skill often superior to that of their male counterparts. In hand-to-hand combat, they’ve proven their mettle, employing unconventional but effective techniques, such as sharp, well-placed kicks that leave their opponents winded. Each time you witness these women asserting themselves, standing tall and confident, your heart swells with pride.

Your kingdom adores you. They sing your praises, though you know there are still some who would prefer a man on the throne. Yet, those voices have grown quieter since you instituted free public schools, accessible even to the less fortunate. In these schools, children learn practical farming techniques, mathematics, and the works of poets and writers. You’ve noticed a shift, a gradual enlightenment among your people, and it strengthens your resolve.

Now, you find yourself in the castle library, a sanctuary of books and knowledge. You sit in a comfortable armchair by the window, a steaming cup of tea resting on a small table beside you. The warm light filters through the window, casting a gentle glow on the pages of the book in your hands—a collection of love poems by a local author. The words stir something within you, an ache for a love you’ve never truly known. You love your people, yes, but it is not the same as the love these poems speak of.

“Where our sighs meet

Where our heartbeats become one

Where my hands touch your body

And yours make me rejoice

Our love binds us together

Like our lips

this is where I want to stay forever:

your heart.”

You read the verses aloud, your voice tinged with the yearning embedded in the words. Each line makes your heart flutter, the emotions of the poet resonating deep within you.

Just then, Natasha’s voice breaks the reverie. “My queen,” she says as she enters the room. You look up from the book, surprised by her sudden presence. Natasha’s gaze falls on the empty chair across from you, and you gesture for her to sit.

“What are you reading?” she asks, her curiosity evident.

“A poem,” you reply, your voice soft as the words linger in the air.

Natasha listens closely as you recite the lines, her eyes never leaving your lips. There’s something intense in her gaze, something that mirrors the depth of the poem you just read.

“Beautiful,” Natasha murmurs, her voice low, almost reverent.

You close the book, the connection you feel with the words dissipating as you focus on her. “You’re right,” you say. “These poems are all beautiful.” There’s a pause, a tension in the air that wasn’t there before. “Is there something you need to tell me?” you ask, sensing that her visit has a purpose beyond casual conversation.

“You might not like it,” Natasha warns, her tone shifting from soft admiration to something more serious.

“Tell me anyway,” you insist, the curiosity now turning into concern.

Natasha rises from her seat, moving with a deliberate grace to the bookshelf that lines the far wall. Her fingers dance over the spines of the books until they stop on one in particular. She pulls it out, the movement slow and deliberate, before placing it on the table in front of you. “The Legend of Veloria,” you read aloud, puzzled by her choice. The title alone stirs a familiar sense of dread, a tale of old that everyone knows, but no one truly believes.

“You know the story, don’t you?” Natasha asks, her tone probing.

“Of course I do. I’m the queen—I have to know it!” you reply, a touch defensively. Even if you weren’t queen, it’s a story everyone grows up with. A tale told to frighten children, a bedtime warning. “If you don’t behave, the wicked witch will rise again and reclaim the kingdom,” your mother used to say, as did every other mother in the kingdom.

“The story you all know is false,” Natasha says, her voice taking on an edge as she slams her hand down on the book. The sudden force makes you jump, your breath catching in your throat.

“I think everyone knows it’s so absurd it can’t be true,” you counter, trying to steady yourself.

But Natasha shakes her head, her expression darkening as she opens the dusty tome. The pages are yellowed with age, brittle and torn, bearing the weight of centuries. This book is older than your grandfather, older than any living memory.

“Let me tell you the real story,” Natasha says, her voice dropping to a near whisper as she settles back into the chair across from you. There’s a gravity to her words that makes your pulse quicken, as if you’re about to uncover a truth long buried.

Thanks for reading!♡

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[speedierthanasubmarine]

Finished heaven official’s blessing and I really enjoyed writing an analysis on helluva boss I want to make this a regular thing because it’s fun so here’s my thoughts on

Heaven Official’s Blessing

Spoilers (duh)

I think it’s incredibly impressive when someone can make an overarching narrative in which different seemingly disjointed events are significant without A) putting a giant exclamation mark on top saying “REMEMBER THIS IT WILL BE IMPORTANT LATER” and B) Significantly over or under emphasizing the importance of the scene in the moment. Each event stood on its own and I liked that.

There were several janky sentences and word choices but that’s a translation issue, this writer clearly knows what she’s doing.

Characters were a lot of fun and distinct, my favorites were Feng Xin, Pei Ming, Qi Ying, and Ling Wen whenever they were on the page I was like Ah yes, these pages are gonna be enjoyable and I was right, they’re all delightful (cept the brocade immortal stuff, but like I don’t care, Google assistant is fun) Xie Lian and San Lang are delightful, love them, and San Lang is so effed in the head it’s enjoyable to try and imagine what unhinged thing he’ll do next

Tbh there isn’t much plot breakdown I want to do with this series because it knows what it is, it’s a fanfic ass book with good times, trauma, gay fluff, and fights. Need I say more? That’s not a detractor, it’s a strength. Be what you are and own it because a house with a house’s foundation is a great house but slap a building on that house’s foundation and it fails in both regards.

The only aspect I’m going to analyze is the narrative voice the books are written in because holy crap is it super impressive. Xie Lian is a super mature (or ditzy, depending on your point of view) character, he doesn’t dwell on things, doesn’t hold grudges, doesn’t really care that much about people’s histories or even their present, doesn’t focus much on externals and it comes through in the way the book is written. I noticed this when throughout the books San Lang would do fucked up stuff like make it rain blood and kill a pit’s worth of people and Xie Lian kinda didn’t really seem to care and at first it pissed me off, why isn’t the author letting consequences occur because of these peoples’ actions, but then as it held consistently throughout the book and other people kept being super concerned about stuff, like Pei Constantly asking after Shi Qingxuan (I don’t know how to spell their name, it’s so hard to keep track I’m so sorry) or people bringing up Banue, I realized this is just Xie Lian, other people in the book are regular people like me, this one guy is just experiencing things, going “Well, ain’t that something” and then just moving on. Honestly iconic, but also I was halfway through book six when I realized. Especially since whenever they do flashbacks Xie Lian does all normal stuff. He describes settings he’s in, he mentions events that happened a few pages ago, he tells the reader how he feels, it’s after he experiences all his shit he goes through that this all kinda slips away. In “present” scenes he’ll reference things as they come up but like in the flashback after Mu Qing leaves they talk about it a few times and I find that aspect of acknowledgment to be noticeably absent in the “present” scenes. After the black water arc there is a complete lack of discussion about the frankly trauma inducing event that just transpired but sure Cie Lian, you and San Lang have to not hold hands for the billionth time. At first I thought is this author high but then I realized what shes doing is characterizing through prose which is IMPRESSIVE AS HELL. This may be a point I noticed and am now misremembering the entire series just to bolster my take and if that’s the case then I shall sheepishly shrug and say I’m sorry. I’m not rereading 8 books to write a tumblr review. Maybe if I ever start a YouTube channel

I don’t know, I just find it to be an incredible feat of actually good writing when a story is being told through the lens of the main character and you can characterize that character by simply reading the story and seeing how it’s written, not even through dialogue and action. It’s kinda like the Great Gatsby or a Separate Peace, and it’s super cool that a book like this can accomplish the same thing that makes those classics great. There isn’t as much symbolism or analytical potential but those books wouldn’t be nearly as impactful as they were without great execution, which this book pulled off in spades.

[jewish-vents]

trying to find an opening to mention to my friends that zionism is a very personal thing, a very jewish thing, and how the media's portrayal of zionism is very skewed. i consider myself pro palestine in that i am horrified by the suffering the israeli govt is subjecting them to and hope they can one day be free people, regular civilians; i also consider myself a zionist because i believe that a jewish state is important for the safety of jews, a belief that i learned from my jewish israeli mother, who learned it from her jewish israeli mother, and so on and so forth.

its difficult because they are pro palestine as well, and while i do agree with much of what they are saying, sometimes they throw out a take so rancid i feel unsafe bringing up the issue. i feel if i mention zionism or talk of israel in a positive light they'll gang up on me until i just give in to their opinions. i mentioned once that my mums side of the family was israeli and they were like 'oof, yikes' which just felt plain mean.

i dunno, maybe im making a big deal over nothing, but i feel like a lot of people who see themselves as zionists, esp jews, are being demonized for beliefs they don't hold.

sorry if this was a bit disjointed and rant-y, and thank you so much for running this blog <3

(plus don't forget to be kind to yourselves and to your brains, and know that i am mentally gifting you copious amounts of the rugelach i baked yesterday ❤️❤️❤️)

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