#ever heard of old fashioned VALUES

[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

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon #daemon hotd #house of the dragon daemon #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd x you #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon x reader #daemon x you

[rustycopper4use]

Ok, uhm....I've seen someone make a request for poly Ozzie x Fizz x Reader in which the reader is Blitzø's brother, but I got a better one for you! How about (poly ofc) Ozzie x Fizz x Male Reader who is Striker's older brother? Like, maybe he heard about what happened in greed ring and came to apologise on his brother's behalf and maybe offer his services as bodyguard?

Fizz x Ozzie x Male reader!

sorry I went a little bit off the rails but I hope you like it!!

At the beginning you were close to fizzaroli as kids.

 you first met him at one of his shows, and you would try to see all his shows. And ended up dragging your younger brother striker to them, much to his protests.

  You would spend hours with fizzaroli, him being the only sense of affection in your life. Giving your family’s old fashioned values. His was the escape from it all.

 Your father resented the wasted time spent with some lowly circus clown, he would try every thing to make you to stop seeing him. After awhile he even turned Striker against you, which in retrospect wasn’t hard he idolized him. 

 In the ended up with you sneaking out the house everyday to see the goofy imp.

 However that was until the fire. You had been only been able to talk to him when you actually came to the circus.

 So one day you went to see him, with a small birthday gift you’d be able to pay for.

 only to met with ashes, and burnt remains of childhood memories, it was hauntingly void of life still fresh with smoke.

 And you never heard from him again.

  You left the gift in the remains. It became a regular thing, you’d leave a small gift every year on his birthday.

  A way to remember him, maybe you’d just like the sadness that came with it rather than the bitter empty feeling in your cold aching chest. 

 Or you’re still in denial, waiting for the day he’ll somehow come back and it’ll be some big cruel joke.

  After that you replaced that time with meaningless jobs, helping dad around the farm. 

  While your younger brother took up kill for hire, you would be along aside for protection, an extra set of hands. 

 This new attitude brought a sense of pride to the rest of the family.

 Your relationship wasn’t the same with your less than functional family. You weren’t ever close to your father or brother but, it got even more distant. Opting for only talking when needed.

  One day striker came back from a job beaten bruised, and burned.

 As you fixed him up, he whined about his failed attempt, he brought up an all to familiar name.

 “Y’know that lowlife clown was such a brat to deal with, and his pathetic friend Blizto-“

 “Are you talking about fizzaroli?”

 “-Wait no, Fizzaroli’s alive?.”

 “Look I don’t care if you had a soft spot for that thing, I had a job and I’m gonna go through with it.”

 “You never thought to tell me he was alive!”

 “Of course I didn’t, Dad and I knew you were going to act like this, you became a better demon because of us.”

 “Get out.”

 Striker gets to door before turning back towards you.

 “Im not gonna give up this job because you’ve grown weak.”

 “Oh I know you won’t.”

 He left.

  You weren’t sure what to do now. Striker was a stubborn person, he wouldn’t give up till Fizzaroli’s head was on a stick.

  Luckily for you. you were just as petty as the snake.

 For the next few days you looked for opportunities to work at Ozzie’s. You came across for a listing for a personal bodyguard for Fizz. 

 You got scheduled for an interview, part of you dreaded seeing him again.

 You headed down(up?) to the lust ring. The gorgeous neon lights, against the calming rain.

  The Ozzie’s club was nothing short of a spectacle. And the start to your new life.

  Ozzie was apprehensive on hiring someone with relations with the demon that kidnapped Fizzaroli in the first place. 

 But Fizz reassured his worries, he knew you weren’t like him.

 The start of this job was- not exactly awkward, but there was this weird air around you three. A few weeks in and you’ve finally settled in, you grew comfortable with the duo and life finally felt back on track.

 You still felt guilt for what your brother did, you would always give gifts to fizzaroli as a form of an apology, a better change than what you did for 15 years. You also get into the habit of going above what was asked for even at your own expense.

 Even when Fizzaroli explained he didn’t blame you, it was your brother’s actions after all. You settled for buying him flowers every other day.

  The two would flirt with you, fizzaroli being more bold, knowing exactly what makes you tick and that special spot that makes you melt.

  Ozzie on the other hand, had a different approach. He took on a more romantic strategy, he learned very early on that his voice was your weakness, a few praises and you were a goner. 

 When striker found out he was pissed. His own brother fooling around with blue blood, how did you turn out like this.

 Every time he would show up you always up lovey-dovey just to rub salt in a wound.

  Fizzaroli adored it when you’d get riled up and your southern accent would slip. He would purposely push your buttons lovingly just to hear it.

 Every time Fizzaroli would want attention you’d always make sure to hold his face given it’s the only part he can really feel now.

 Ozzie was the only one that Could cook, and that still didn’t change with you around. Sure you weren’t as bad as Fizz but still.

 Fizzaroli would call you a cowboy (affectionately)

#x reader #lgbtq #gay #lgbtqiia+ #fizzaroli x reader #fizzmodeus #fizzarolli #fizzaroli helluva boss #helluvaboss #hb spoilers #fizzarolli helluva boss #helluva boss asmodeus #fizzmodeus x reader #Fizzmodeus x male reader #helluva boss #striker #reqs open #request

[searchingforserendipity25]

An old draft resurrected for @feanorianweek! Inspired by last year's Back to Middle Earth bingo board option - gift giving. Some humor and some angst. In which Maedhros is a defiant prisoner, but not the most infuriating of his siblings.

-

Gift-Giving

In Valinor, there had been certain expectations from musicians - the minstrels, those few that devoted themselves fully to the Song. 

Every noble house ought to have one among their members, and the noblest the best; Maglor had been very obliging in that regard. Maglor had been the example to follow, the prototype, the trend-setter.

Maglor, Maedhros had thought even then, had chosen the Song as much as it had chosen him. For its own sake; and also so that he did not have to choose anything else less great and mighty. 

Minstrels were for rites, time-keeping, celebration and beauty. Minstrels were for the blessing of the fields. Minstrels were an honour to their kin, and an adornment. 

Beleriand changed things. In Beleriand, Song was power, and Songs of Power needful weapons used beyond the value of their beauty alone.

Unfortunately, kingship was also power, and not one that could lightly be set aside. Fortunately, Macalaurë had always been very able at managing a number of tasks, as long as he could accomplish them in the most impressive and aggravating performance possible. 

For thirty years he ruled singly, second-born of a great house in exile, making Siege against one of the Powers, he that first Sang discord into the very matter and memory and making of the world. 

Morgoth was besieged. Maitimo might be prisoner, hostage, slave and victim, but there was some satisfaction in knowing the manner of his binding.

Treachery there had been, and foolish anguish - but he would not have chosen other. He could not have chosen otherwise; and at least this time, when he suffered the consequences of one of his brother’s irreverence, there was a bitter pleasure in the paying of it.

No gift could be sweeter to him than the memory of the song borne over the great dark stillness of Thangorodrim. The voice soaring to the heights, saying, 

HAIL DECEIVER, SACKER AND THIEF, FROM ANOTHER MURDERER: HOW IS IT TO BE LOATHED AND REGRETTED BY ILÚVITAR, THY VERY OWN KING AND FATHER - 

“Alas for what you have wrought, fell lord,” called Maitimo Nelyafinwë. The laughter wound the chains more treacherously still on themselves, but it was worth it, and frankly necessary to defiance to laugh sometimes. “Once he is started, the true challenge is to close his mouth.” 

AND KNOW THOU HAST BEEN MADE TO FAIL AND FAIL AND FAIL EVER AND EVER UNTO THE VICTORY OF THE HEAVENS AND INDEED THE FORCE OF ELVES IN WRATH AGAINST THEE -

Morgoth roared, and shock the mountain, and thundered at the skies. 

There was a pause. The echo rang, and then the silence; it set, and settled. Morgoth’s immensity blotted out the stars, and grew to match his complacency. 

Maitimo waited. His brother held passionately to a theory, regarding the counting of time in silence as a mark authorship, from which every composed could be identified with enough familiarity, and his thesis presentation had gone something like this:

Somewhere in the far, far distance, there was the familiar sound of a harp being strummed in a uniquely obnoxious fashion. 

GIVE ME BACK MY BROTHER THOU AVARICIOUS CUR-FACED DULL-WITTED  CRAVEN -

For a moment, a terrible abyss of an instant, the full force of Morgoth's loathing filled the air in a silence made of many dimensions and many strains of incredulous rage.

“You heard him,” Maitimo said into it. Teeth-bared, words round and smiling in his mouth. “Cur.” 

The chains were really quite dreadful, where they bit into flesh to lash the bones; but he wouldn't have said they weren't worth it, for the look on Morgoth's face just then.

#maedhros #maglor #morgoth #feanorianweek #the silm #silm fic #silmarillion #my fics

[wing-ed-thing]

Kisame Hoshigaki Friendship to Lovers Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Fluff

𓆃 It's about the only way it's going to go. Kisame isn't exactly the type to seek out a romantic relationship off the bat. He just isn't very interested, but unlike some of his peers, he hasn't sworn off the potential of a partnership.

𓆃 And yes, to him it's a partnership which is why the friendship to lovers pipeline is so smooth. Because in any potential professional partnership, you'll grow closer and more personal until you've ended up in a place where you don't know what you are per se.

𓆃 Will Kisame ever answer you? Hell no. You shouldn't even ask because he'll laugh you off, mess up your hair, and move along.

𓆃 He's weird about labels, but that doesn't stop him from being territorial.

𓆃 Rather, he expects for your relationship to be just be understood. That any special relationship or importance or any other sappy title doesn't need to be said nor should it (because that's the line of work your in).

𓆃 While he doesn't really stick to the old-fashioned shinobi codes, they are very deeply ingrained in him. The Hidden Mist was a very rough village and used draconic methods for longer than a good number of other shinobi societies.

𓆃 So while Kisame doesn't swear off close friends or other valued individuals, he's prone to keeping other's at an arm's length. The underlying value also being that he wouldn't hesitate to cut down anyone for the sake of a mission.

𓆃 It's likely best if you understand that to a degree. Not to say that you would have to agree, but being in the shinobi world should allow you to understand his attitudes.

𓆃 Although, this doesn't differ too much from other shinobi values.

𓆃 An ideal partnership would be most possible with someone Kisame hits it off with. He likes the kind of person who is willing to go along with impulsive ideas and keeps things interesting.

𓆃 Not to mention who will make a great sparring partner. It's how he likes to have his fun, so if you have good stamina and take pride in your combat abilities, you're sure to build a close relationship.

𓆃 Kisame likes to roughhouse and that will make up a significant chunk of your banter.

𓆃 And you'll carry on just like that, not even noticing the exceptions you make for each other because you're together all the time.

𓆃 And one day, maybe he'll surprise you.

𓆃 "I've had my fill," Kisame might say, heaving a heavy sigh the last of his opponents falls to the ground.

𓆃 You might snort, jesting that you had never heard him say that before or a snide remark about how you fought more than he did.

𓆃 And when Kisame tells you, "I think I'm retired," he doesn't blame you when you laugh at him. He snickers along with you at the ridiculous thought.

𓆃 Because he never truly is retired. But if turning in a bounty to get the fighting itch out of his system before coming to your secluded spot by the shore to start dinner is his version of retired, you supposed you should give it to him.

𓆃 You'd throw your headbands and cloaks off a nearby cliff. You'd build your little cottage yourselves, your two weapons next to the door as if they were umbrellas.

𓆃 A little dock would be nearby where you'd continue to spar, and a thick, fortified kitchen table for when you're stitching each other up later that night.

𓆃 You supposed nothing really changes in Kisame's version of retirement other than no longer having any allegiance to a nation.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: I'm still recharging but since it's taking so long I wanted to throw y'all a bone.

#kisame x reader #kisame hoshigaki x reader #akatsuki x reader #naruto x reader #naruto #akatsuki #kisame #kisame hoshigaki #naruto headcanons #naruto headcanon #naruto x you #naruto x y/n #reader insert #x you #x reader

[blackgirlfariy]

Lick Back Pt1

This is taken place after that wonderful video surfaced of Letitia and Kehlani- lol

Paring: Letitia x F!reader

Warning: 18+ please

Summary: You and Letitia have been messing around on the low a little before BP2. To the public you’re her best friend but when it’s just you two she’s the love of your life. After an interesting video appear on twitter you were sick of waiting so you decided to get your “lick back”.

*Ring* *Ring* *Ring* *Ring*

“Hello-”

“Bitch go look at what I sent you on twitter.” Your best friend, Mimi, told you.

I rolled my eyes at her for cutting me off but go look at it anyway. My eyeballs popped out of my head when I saw my so called “girlfriend” letting the singer Kehlani grind on her. I don’t if it’s my crazy eyes but if I’m not mistaken, I see a smile on her face.

 “Girl, you want me to cut her or you gon’ do it?” Mimi said after my long silence on the phone.

“Nope. I want you to come over and we’re going to go out and have fun and forget about these nothing ass men and women.” I said before walking into my closet trying to find the perfect outfit for tonight. 

“Ouu bitch, I like when you get like this. Makes me remember our old college days. I’ll be on my way and better have bottles ready for our pregame.” She hung up after that and I sprang into action. 

I’m a famous songwriter and singer who worked with big names in the industry. I wrote songs for Beyonce on her lemonade album, I wrote songs for Ariana Grande and many more artists. I have a few awards under my belt. With my background in writing music, I was asked to write a song for Black panther 2, Lift me up, it was such an honor. I met Letitia through my childhood friend Ryan who is also the creator of Black panther 1 and 2, I was a fan of hers since watching her episode in Black Mirror. 

The moment I looked her my heart flutter and I wanted her to be mine right then and there. We went out to dinner during one of our breaks from the famous world and we’ve been close ever since. Until one night I ended up in her bed with her head in between my legs. Ever since the two of us have on the low with each other. My only complaint in the way she acts when the two of us are in public, she treats me like a best friend would. I would understand it if we weren’t fucking each other brains out every night. 

It hurts to be in a position like this, in a position where you have to go out the way to show someone who you thought valued you that others can do and feel the same. Simple. I wasn’t planning on going crazy tonight but every time I see that video; I get upset and start thinking who was going to this ass thrown back on them. 

After I got out of the shower, and I walked to my vanity to give myself a beautiful beat face and once I was done with that, I walked to my room where my outfit laid on my bed. I put on my outfit and turned around in the mirror looking at how my ass sit just right and how my boobs sit in the dress. I wore a short black dress that was a little higher than my mid-thigh and wore black heels from LV. 

I heard the doorbell ring which alerted me Mimi have arrived. I walked down my spiral staircase walking up to my front door opening it seeing Mimi looking fine but what’s new. She was always the fashion friend. 

“Soooo you trying to get fucked up tonight huh? You look good girl.” Mimi said walking in giving me hug.

“If I’m getting fucked tonight it’s by somebody else because she acts like shit sweet. You beautiful by the way.” I responded leading her to the bar in my house where all my favorite liquor is. 

Time skip

By the time my driver dropped us off at the club we were beyond tipsy. I had to hold on to her in order to make inside. I was giggling about everything I looked at, when we walked in, I heard my favorite artist Megen Thee Stallion playing. We walked up to our section where I saw some of my other friends Mimi must’ve invited. We all grabbed shots and took them with a lime right after. 

“All right y’all like I told y’all Y/n is supposed to be getting her lick back tonight because her lil boo got her out looking a stupid. So, we gotta go all out tonight because if she gets caught, we might not see her again, okay?” Mimi laughed while we cheered and agreed. 

After some time, my friend Toni went to get us more shots while everyone else stood on the couch shaking ass and rapping lyrics obnoxiously. Before I knew it, I was on the dance floor with a homegirl dancing to twerk by the city girls. I’m throwing it back on her and she was keeping up with me the whole time. Mimi found her a man to the same. I at this point and time the last thing I was worried about Letitia at all. Honestly fuck her, it’s not fair that she can act the way she does but if i do it, it’s a problem.

I was still dancing with my home girl, when I glanced up to one of the top sections and saw the one and only… Letitia Wright. I thought I was seeing things so I just ignored it and walked to the bar for a water. I felt the club energy shift drastically, I looked over my shoulder and I saw her standing in the middle of the club floor. I could feel her eye on me even with her dark shades on. I didn’t want to pay her any mind but her aura is suffocating.

“Here all alone?” I heard a women’s voice on the right of me. I looked over and saw this tall dark skin women. She was beautiful and she wore a jumpsuit and she smelled vanilla, I was mesmerized.

“No I’m not. Im here with some friends. You need some company?” I asked with a smirk on my face.

Now my plan for the night was just to get a couple of dances and get some videos to post. I didn’t expect to maybe go home with someone.

“I would love some of your company. Let me order something- “ the sexy women was cut off by you know who.

“Y/n how you been? I haven’t seen you in a while it’s nice to see your back in London.” Letitia said making her presence known.

“Well I called you and you didn’t answer. I just assumed you were too busy.” I responded with a little attitude in my voice. I’m not weak in the knees for her right now because I’m mad so I’m not afraid of what she could do to me.

“Well I’m about to go. You wanna come with me?” The women said, I didn’t get her name but hey.

“I was hoping you would come with me. I was hoping we could catch up with each other.” Letitia said while sneaking her to my ass and giving a squeeze.

“Uhh well your right Titia we haven’t talked in a while. So we’ll um… can I have your number so we can talk and get to know each other?” I asked the women. If Letitia want to be petty so can I.

After I got her number me and Titia walked out the club. I didn’t miss the looks all my friends gave me. They can’t judge cause my situation is no different than mine. Expect Mimi, she gon’ be a hoe until the day she die.

We walked outside getting slightly blinded by the excessive flashing lights. I wasn’t worried because like I said she treats me like a best friend on the outs. Her car pulled up and she opened the door for me and she got inside herself.

“Imma fuck you up.”

To Be Continued

A/n- hey you guys so with the growth in the Letitia Wright fandom I wanted to take a stab at it. Please be nice it’s been a LONG time since I’ve written. I do take requests for her and the characters she played.

#Letitia Wright #shuri x f!reader #black pather fics #black panther x f!reader #shuri imagine

[hollowboobtheory]

okay as a person who was raised on new wave but has gotten into goth recently. how the ever loving fuck did tiktokers think rock lobster was goth. how??? they out there listening to love shack and own private idaho and somehow thinking that was goth???😧

couple factors

tiktok kids do not seek out context generally. this is how we got any/all pronouns cartman. they engage with south park based only on the sound clips that become memes on tiktok. similarly, i think they just heard the song and accepted it at face value and didn't look into who the b-52d are or notice that these are the same people who made love shack.

goth is a very broad (group of) genre(s). rock lobster admittedly sounds like it could have been made by the cramps.

goth dad (@awfullysinister) has admitted to playing it at the clubs he djs for years

there are a lot of bands whose goth status is contested like strawberry switchblade and even the fucking cure.

in my opinion rock lobster on its own is goth purely because a lot of goths like it. same with strawberry switchblade even tho stylistically they're more like an early ancestor to vaporwave.

goth classification in general is quite complex tbh there's a lot of nuance. imo its more of a vibe check. and rock lobster passed the goth vibe check to those kids.

the blind leading the blind is kinda the guiding principle of tiktok and none of those kids talk to people older than them.

now now it turned into drama. hot takes coming.

i think a lot of them have tricked themselves into thinking that gothery is objective and easily quantifiable and not largely vibes-based.

they've tricked themselves into thinking that "music based subculture" means the music itself IS the subculture nothing else that grew out of the goth scene is important (they do this while stanning elvira and collecting bones and ofc wearing tradgoth apparel but ignore that doublethink is at play here)

i'm blaming the influencers with amazon affiliate links here. they're seeing girlies posting their looks plus a shopping list for how to replicate their life exactly plus affiliate links (or worse, tiktok shop links ew) and it doesn't pass the sniff check for them, but because they don't talk to people older than them and because the version of goth that's presented in mainstream media is stripped of its anticonsumerist ideals, they only way they can think to counter it is to parrot "goth is a music-based subculture" back and forth forever

not thinking about how the fashion being antique and vintage and reused and diy and gloomy and spooky are extensions of the ideals put forth in the music, as applied to a more everyday form of self expression.

they get that goth isn't something that you can buy but they don't know how to articulate that

um in case you haven't noticed, tiktok, a highly trend-based and consumerism driven platform, yanno with all its influencer shills and brand accounts and ads disguised as content and clones of each other and viral song of the week and they've recently baked shopping right into the app itself and every other video you see has that damn "eligible for commission" badge under it, where everybody is copying each other to sell shit or as an audition to sell shit, just might not quite line up with goth ideals.

which imo is more important than the music but obv the platform itself doesn't really lend itself to putting that into practice. again frankly tiktok as a platform is fundamentally incompatible with the goth subculture.

ok back to rock lobster bc the politics have been cut out all these kids have to back up their sense of gothenticity is music based subculture. meaning when they find out they've been dancing to a song that isn't even technically goth, that's really fucking embarrassing.

cue one zillion identical "um we can still listen to other genres and still be goth" tiktoks. which, like, true. still funny that you were preaching that shit while dancing to the boomer equivalent of like. idk old town road. what does the fox say. i don't fuckin know.

anyway now everybody's having a damn identity crisis calling each other posers and elitists and the influencers are laughing all the way to the bank. also setting their makeup haul videos to rob zombie who while liked by many goths is DEF not goth.

oh yeah and dollskill have been making the sponsored content rounds too. because this wasn't already enough of a shitshow

#beck rambles #gothtok #also i'm not exactly an insider in goth shit ok #i'm a damn hermit i'm not chatting about this with all the other grownup goths so this is genuinely just my read on it

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Five dating someone who's insomnia is always kicking their ass so he pops up at night to make sure they're in bed and asleep and when he sees they arent he lovingly threatens them to go to bed lmao

He would so do that too I love him sm I swear

Late Bedtime (Five Hargreeves x reader)

Warnings: reader suffers from insomnia, swearing, references to assasin! Five, slight sexual innuendo, slight angst maybe I guess?? Idk, better safe than sorry

It was late at night, and you were curled up on the couch flipping through the channels to see what was on the television. There wasn't much worth watching, just infomercials and reruns of old sitcoms. Sighing, you settled on some random trashy reality show as you wrapped your blanket tigheter around you.

"Darling, why are you still up? You're supposed to be in bed," you heard a voice suddenly ask.

Normally, a random voice talking to you in the middle of the night would have given you cause for concern and understandably freaked you out, but you knew your boyfriend well enough at this point to know he didn't care too much about using doors. You'd tried to introduce him to the concept of knocking before in the past, but after awhile you figured it wasn't worth the fight and gave up.

"Couldn't sleep," you replied, turning to face him. He was in his usual Umbrella Academy uniform, one that you often teased him for, saying that he looked like he went to a private school for rich kids. He detested it, though he agreed you weren't far off the mark. "What are you doing here?"

"I just thought I'd pop in to make sure you were asleep, which you clearly are not," he said accusingly, narrowing his eyes at you.

"I told you already, I'm not tired," you said, the ending of your sentence cut off by a sudden yawn.

He raised his eyebrows at you in an "I told you so" fashion.

"Alright, that's it. Bed, now."

"But Fiveee," you whined.

"No buts. Now, go get ready for bed, unless you want me to use some of my knowledge in disabling targets to get you there."

You gasped mockingly. "Five, are you threatening me? Your loving partner, who would do anything for you?"

He smirked. "Isn't it obvious?"

You put your hand over your heart, and began to fake cry for good measure. "How could you? Just when you think you know a person."

"I used to kill people for a living. It's pretty naive of you to think I wouldn't threaten you with acts of physical violence just to get you in bed."

Perking up, you gave him a knowing look. "Oh, so you're trying to get me in bed now, are you? In what ways?"

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Okay, look, first off, you know that's not what I meant, and second, I'm just trying to make sure you don't wake up tomorrow morning utterly sleep deprived."

"You wake up every morning utterly sleep deprived, so I really don't see what the big deal is here. In fact, I'm quite certain you've never actually gotten a full night's worth of sleep before, have you?"

You questioned him with such certainty because you knew it was true. Five did as well, even if he didn't want to admit it.

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, knowing he'd been beat. "That's... not the point. If you don't go to bed soon, you're not going to get enough sleep, which means you're going to be really pissy when you wake up; and I, for one, hate when that happens, so would you please just go to bed?"

The last part came out as less of a question and more of a plea, which caused you to realize that, as much as he loved staying up late with you, trash talking his family and drinking coffee as the sun came up, he valued your mental health and stability more.

Obviously, it wouldn't do anything to help his agenda in stopping the apocalypse and saving the world if you were constantly dozing off from lack of sleep; but more than that, he cared. He cared about your general wellbeing, far more than you ever did. It wouldn't do you any good in the long run if he let this behavior continue, and he knew that.

You knew that too, as much as you hated to admit it. Which is why you gave in to his requests, surprising him in the process.

"Okay, fine."

He appeared to be in shock, as it took him a couple minutes to process what you'd said and a few more to actually respond. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I said fine. It's over, Hargreeves; you win," you said, throwing your hands up in defeat. "I guess I'll just go to bed, like you wanted."

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you. "That's it? You're not going to protest anymore, or give me a hard time?"

"Yup."

"You're going to go to bed, just like that?"

"Just like that." You nodded your head in agreement, turning off the television while you got up and stretched. "It's just not worth it to argue about, y'know? Especially since you're right."

"Um, do you think you could repeat that?" He asked, a smirk appearing on his face. "Because it sounded to me like you just said I was right."

You groaned. "God, you're such an asshole. Yes, you were right, okay? Can I please just go to bed now?"

He shrugged his shoulders, still giving you a cocky look. "Go right ahead, I'm not stopping you."

You playfully rolled your eyes at him as you made your way into the bedroom. He followed you, watching as you got ready to go to sleep. Once you'd finished your nightly routine, you climbed into bed, slipping under the blanket.

Finally satisfied, Five turned to leave, but not before you spoke.

"Five?"

He turned back around, raising his eyebrows as he silently urged you to continue.

"Will you stay? Please?"

Letting out a soft sigh, he walked back over to the bed. "Scoot," he commanded, gesturing for you to move over.

You did, making sure he'd have plenty of room as he laid down next to you.

"Is it okay if I cuddle with you?" You softly asked, knowing how unfamiliar he was with physical intimacy and not wanting to make him uncomfortable by accident.

He didn't say anything at first, but when he patted the space beside him, you took it as an invitation to move closer.

You cuddled up beside him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him close as you buried your face in his chest. "I love you," you sleepily mumbled, causing him to smile.

Once he was sure you were asleep, he responded. "I love you, too," he whispered into the dark of your room. "So much."

~

Taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @your-next-daydream

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagines #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy fic #tua #tua imagines #tua x reader #tua fic #five hargreeves #five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves fic #the umbrella academy angst #the umbrella academy fluff #tua angst #tua fluff #five hargreeves angst #five hargreeves fluff

[curdledmelk]

We all have heard about Werewolf!Steve but may I please bring forward Witch!Steve to the conversation:

Alice Howe did not want to talk about her childhood or the family she distanced herself from after marrying Richard Harrington. When asked she would mention finishing school and growing up with old fashioned values, never giving more details and certainly not mentioned the talents her and the women of her family possessed. It was not that she gave up magic all together, of course not it would be foolish to not use all tools at your disposal to keep the life you have made for yourself, but she keeps it around in small ways. Using spells to keep her house tidy and in order, potions she can pass off as home remedies secrets sthat her mother taught her. And if she was being honest, she was relieved to find out that her first born had in fact been a son. She swears that she would have loved the baby either way but she was hoping for a boy. A boy meant her secret could be safe, Magic was rarely passed down to boys (something about dominant and recessive genes) but then Steve grew. When the boy was about three Alice started to notice him imitating her movements as he watched his mother cast wordless spells that moved dishes around the kitchen into the cabinets, evaporating water off the recently washed plates. At first she thought nothing of it, there was little chance that anything would come of it but then when Steve was about five, she realized she was wrong. It would turn out that by some strange twist of fate that Steve was born with the gifts that so many of Howe Family had possessed, evident in little ways like teddy bears and blocks levitating an inch above the ground before falling back down and it is after witnessing that does Alice make the chose to stop using her powers in front of her son. She chooses not to tell him about the power he was born with, thinks if I don’t teach him he won’t learn and the problem will go away and in someways it does. Steve doesn’t learn any true spells and yes, sometimes things will happen when the boy gets emotional but nothing too out of the ordinary. Sometimes there’s a little zip of electricity that feels like a static shock when touches something while too excited, a lamp might flicker slightly when he stubs his toe.

But then Steve turns ten and it’s the first time his parents decide that he’s old enough to be left alone while they attend a conference over a long weekend. The boy doesn’t know why he’s looking around the basement, it just felt like something was calling to him and packed away amongst the holiday decorations, old camping gear, and snowsuits, he finds this old wooden chest. He feels weird looking at it, like if he were to open it would alter the course of his life forever, but there’s a voice in the back of his mind telling him that he should. And so he does. At first glance the contents of the chest seem to be just old Halloween decorations, dusty leather bound books of spells and potions with a small blacken and tarnished metal cauldron, but then Steve opens one of the books and sees in a crooked version of his mother’s neat looping penmanship “Property of One Miss Alice Howe.” He can’t tell you why he starts to read them, maybe it’s to feel closer to the mother that seemed so distant or maybe it was just because they looked cool or maybe some third option, all he would be able to tell you is that it just felt right. Then one day while Steve is home alone during that stretch of time where school has ended but his parents have not returned home from work, he tries one of the spells he read about in his mother’s old school books just to see what would happen. And it is then, sitting on his bed with the door locked shut does Steve learn that his mother has given him more than he could have ever thought. Steve was able to use Magic, like actual magic. Steve was a Witch.

He wants to talk to his mom about it but he wasn’t supposed to find these things and who knows how she would react, so he hides. Hides the leather books on his shelf in the dust jackets of old hardcovers, hides the cauldron with a carefully stacked wall of folded clothes in his closet. He teaches himself in secret, he makes rules for himself. Only reading the books in his room so no one can read over his shoulder, only practicing spells in the house when he’s sure his parents won’t be coming home, and during those stretches of time between business trips he sneaks into the woods, out to skull rock and practices under the cover of the forest at night. Steve never thought that he was smart when it came to school but this made sense, he finally feels like he gets something.

As his skills grow over the years he becomes more sure of himself, more confident, and he starts to bend the rules. Using magic in subtle ways to mess with the other team during sports, making a player on the court stumble so his team gets the ball after an unfair call, makes sure the right fielder when the bases are loaded and it’s the bottom of the ninth, add a small amount of a potion that allows him to breath underwater to his water bottle for swim meets not enough to make a huge difference but just enough to not phase him when he accidentally inhales some of the chlorinated water when his lung capacity fails him. He’s not hurting anyone and the books are useful, especially when it comes to the idea of crafting an image. Potions for hair and skin care, spells that cover your imperfections. So while he bends his rules, he adds to them as well. No magic to cheat on tests, nothing that can change other peoples’ appearances. But sometimes he wonders what would happen if he stopped… if he didn’t use magic to keep his images King Steve, Steve “The Hair” Harrington? Was his charming personality real or just an illusion?

Then he meets Nancy, and Barb goes missing, his parent’s business trips go on longer and longer, the fight with Jonathan, and then the Demogorgan. And so he starts honing in on anything he can find for protection, for healing, for defense and he just wants some normalcy back in his already weird life. So yeah it’s Halloween, he wants to be a dumb kid and go party and have fun. He accidentally makes Nancy spill the red punch on herself and if she would just let him help her he would have been able to get the stain out but he’s stumbling and trying to be discreet about the spell and then “It’s Bullshit, all of it. Bullshit.” And he doesn’t want to break, not there in that bathroom in that house with all those people, it’s to dangerous to risk. So he gets out, he leaves, makes sure Nancy can get home safe but he leaves. Parks his car by the quarry and lets himself break, the man made pool of water rocking with unnaturally violent waves that crash against each other as the boy cries.

And then he’s protecting the kids from the demo dogs, every incantation of protection, defense, and god forbid healing that he’s ever learned flutter at light speed through the back of his thought like a Rolodex attached to a power drill.

And he meets Robin and he feels like she has this beacon about her that he can’t put his finger on but mistakes for a crush. And he tells her while sitting on that men’s bathroom floor, she tells him about Tammy Thompson and later notices a sort of amber glow to her eyes in moonlight as they drive the convertible and just chalks it up to drugs and last parts of his brain still switching from romantic to platonic love. But he notices it when they work the late shift at Family Video and during movie nights till one night he asks about it. And she tells him about being a werewolf and for the first time Steve tells someone that he’s a witch.

And then he meets Eddie, not Eddie “The Freak” Munson but Eddie. And then Eddie dies, and Steve has to get Dustin to leave, to get him safe. It is in the lull of the days after the Battle that Dustin finds out about Steve’s gifts and begs for Steve to find some way to bring Eddie back. And Steve wants to break, not in the way he did on Halloween two years ago but in a different way, a way that he doesn’t know that he can recover from. He can’t promise Dustin anything more than he’ll try. Necromancy is not for the faint of heart but, after everything the nineteen year old has seen, he would assume he’s not included in that category. The young man ventures into the Upside Down to find the fallen party member, no clue of if his plan will even work but he’s going to try and try like hell. He finds the older boy’s body, his eyes welling up with the tears he had refused to shed and he apologizes, for everything, for being an asshole in high school, for leaving him here, for him having to get mixed up in this, for not being there to protect him, and as he lets the tears fall, he promises that he is going fix this, that he will fix this. The ritual is performed, Steve brings a man back to life, and Eddie is the third person to learn Steve’s secret.

Something must have gone wrong with the spell though. Eddie is back and while he is still Eddie, he’s just different now. His senses are sharper, he’s stronger, he’s…. he’s a vampire. Not that Eddie minds, says that it was a sort of consolation prize for, you know, dying. Steve however, does mind. Blames himself for messing up the spell, for turning Eddie into a monster and is sure that Eddie only hangs out with him because of some fucked up power imbalance that comes with bringing someone back to life. But he hasn’t turned Steve away yet, so like a stray that has been fed, he keeps coming back.

The truth is that Steve likes Eddie, likes hanging out with him, likes showing off the stupid little tricks he’s learned to do with his powers, likes how he comes alive onstage with his band, likes that he’s a little too loud when he’s excited and talks with his hands and has issues with personal space. He likes being with Eddie and one night it hits him. They’re hanging out, watching a movie when Steve looks over at Eddie, profile illuminated by the glow of the screen giggling at the way a background actor is apparently trying so hard not to stare at the camera, and he thinks “god I want to kiss him.” The boy freezes, his eyes wide at his own thoughts and as if he can sense the stutter in Steve’s heartbeat, Eddie turns to face him when something in the other boy snaps. Next thing Steve knows he’s kissing Eddie and Eddie is kissing him back and he doesn’t want the moment to end. But the light from the tv goes blue and Steve yawns into Eddie’s mouth which causes the older boy to call it a night, carrying them off to bed. In the morning, Steve wakes up curled into the other boy’s side and smiles softly cuddling closer as he drifts back to sleep.

#steddie #witch!steve #werewolf!robin #vampire!eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #well fanfic like musings #I was going to expand but I don’t want to think about the angst I was considering

[magicalgirlfia]

Some Dome Octarian Society Headcanons

Honestly we only see the military side of the dome dwelling Octarians and it really makes me wonder what their society must be like.

We really don’t see much about what life is like outside of just stuff about the army and I wanted to base this off the fact that nobody is in the wrong and that “everyone is just doing their own thing”.

The most valued occupations are STEM careers, especially those who work in engineering and technology.

Militants and medical professionals are a close second followed by musicians, composers, and artists, most of whom receive support from the government to create music and art for them (ex; Turquoise October making Octotronica and the propaganda we see in the sunken scrolls)

Most octarians are pushed to and do chose their careers from a very young age. After or during their equivalent to middle/secondary school octarians usually do internship style programs instead of a traditional schooling, thus why there are so many child soldiers.

All schools are funded by the government and so they are where a lot of propaganda and nationalism are instilled in people.

Marina is a special case and was able to skip most/all of the required schooling and go straight to an internship program due to her intelligence.

Many of the octarians who live in the domes as of around ME2022 have chosen to be there for one reason or another. For example, while some octarians are still conditioned to be loyal to the army, some have genuine loyalties to Octavio, some are pressured by tradition or a feeling of obligation, and some people just don’t want to leave because they have lives there. Nevertheless, post ME2018 the Octarian domes have many fewer inhabitants than usual.

Lots of their infrastructure is built off of the skeletons of the formerly flooded old human dome cities which have been built upon almost beyond recognition.

Octarian anthologists know a lot more about about human society due to this and they became so advanced due to the fact that they could somewhat build off already existing technology. This is why the Sunken Scrolls contain so much information about the Splatoon universe pre mollusk era- they’re written by the octarians.

Biological family is not something with a big focus, especially when many of the members of society have been created through asexual reproduction. They raise kids with a “it takes a village to raise a child” mindset.

Although there are special cases where children will be raised by one specific person or multiple people, they aren’t necessarily the kids biological parent(s)

Later on in life this applies to the group that someone chooses to work with, as they usually have to live and work in close proximity to each other and form strong familial friendships with one another.

Blackouts are a regular occurrence and most of the population keeps a lot of candles at hand for emergencies. It’s very difficult to create renewable energy due to the fact that things like sun, wind, and weather have to be artificially created.

This is due to the amount of electricity that is presumably used on Octavio’s weapons. And also raves. Like chill out dude.

But I digress. Due to that, power eggs are some of the only sustainable and reliable energy sources which is why keeping good relations with the Salomonids is absolutely essential.

Due to their close relation, a good chunk of the population knows the salmonid language or have at least heard terms in it before. It’s not the majority of course but it’s more than you’d expect, especially considering that not many will actually ever interact with them.

I think that styles based off of poppy/preppy ME2017 inkling fashion are very popular with rebellious teenagers.

That’s all I have right now. Maybe I’ll come up with more in the future and also maybe I won’t.

#Splatoon #does this make any sense #I honestly doubt it but if I don’t get it off my chest I will explode #[splatoon]

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Thank you, Mr Chairman, I’m Jeff Cleghorn, sixth generation Georgian, live in Butts County, army veteran, retired lawyer, and have been a gay rights activist for the last three decades.

I served on the board of directors of Georgia Equality and Lambda Legal,and am a past president of the Stonewall Bar Association. I have long advocated for the equal dignity of gay and lesbian Georgians and Americans.

SB88 is necessary because queer, gender identity transgender activism, and the transgender medical industry, are aggressively targeting children of all ages including inside school classrooms. This is a belief system that many people, me included, do not believe in.

The gay rights movement succeeded because we changed hearts and minds, and we did it the old-fashioned way: by telling the truth about our lives. And today, gays and lesbians live in every Georgia county happy and content to love our families and be good citizens. I have long known and worked with many transgender people, and I know that they only want to live their lives in peace, free from mistreatment by anyone. And I’m glad trans Americans and Georgians now have every legal right as the rest of us with the Supreme Court recently expanding Title VII to include workplace protections for transgender.

But, as a result of piggybacking transgender activism on the gay movement of yesterday, transgender activists never did the work. They skipped right over the changing hearts and mind part. Instead, they stridently declared the “LGBTQ+ is now a single identity," and that some people can be both sexes at the same time, while other people are neither male nor female, and some people are born in the wrong body, and some women have a penis. and there are 58 different genders, and as many pronouns.

SB88 is necessary because the former gay rights movement has been hijacked by those pushing this dishonest gender ideology on children. This is about much more than helping kids with gender dysphoria, most of whom will grow up to be gay or lesbian if left alone, according to every study ever conducted on the subject. This is about indoctrinating kids into a belief system that is not real.

Tens of millions of dollars are spent each year by groups like GLSEN and the Trevor project specifically targeting kids with this ideology. And queer activists push this belief system that gender and sex and sexuality can mean whatever someone says they mean, and there should be no boundaries.

Parents have every right to know if this stuff shows up in their child’s school. No one had ever heard of a transgender child until recently and today we see tens of thousands of young females soliciting GoFundMe donations online to amputate their healthy breasts or to have “gender affirming hysterectomies."

15 years ago, there were only two or three so-called gender clinics. Today there are hundreds, including more than 50 paediatric. The skyrocketing thousands of percent recent increase in kids claiming a trans identity is not by accident and children are being harmed.

There are more than 52,000 members of a Reddit transitional group, mostly young lesbians, and gay men with gutting stories of regret, sterility, loss of sexual function, early onset osteoporosis, and vaginal atrophy as the transgender medical industry is laughing all the way to the bank.

SB88 is needed because they are proselytizing this queer, sex, sexuality ideology to children. Activists and schools have no business interfering with the parent-child relationship.

Do not let schools teach kids to keep secrets from their parents. These are not Georgia values. Thank you.

#Sara Higdon #Jeff Cleghorn #SB88 #gender identity ideology #queer theory #gender ideology #indoctrination #child indoctrination #childhood indoctrination #pronoun culture #pronouns #gay rights movement #gay rights #gay conversion therapy #gay conversion #medical corruption #medical scandal #medical malpractice #religion is a mental illness

[okayto]

Mini-Review: My Happy Marriage

Miyo's abusive family deems her worthless without a magical gift, and her betrothal to an infamously cold man has everyone—including herself—expecting that she'll be thrown out into the streets. With no home to return to, Miyo resigns herself to her fate—and soon finds that her pale and handsome husband-to-be is anything but the monster she expected. As they slowly open their hearts to each other, both realize the other may be their chance at finding true love and happiness.

I was super excited when I heard earlier this year that My Happy Marriage was getting an anime, because I had coincidentally picked up the first volumes of the manga on a whim from the library and was immediate hooked. First, the manga covers that caught my eye are gorgeous, and while obviously things change in adaptation, this is still a very pretty anime.

It's set in an alternate Taisho era (circa 1912-1926; I'm guessing this takes place sometime in the second half of the era, considering we see some flapper fashion) where magic exists. Miyo is enduring a Cinderella-esque nightmare that's lasted a lifetime: despite both parents coming from strong magical family lines, she's powerless. Her mother died when she was young; her father immediately remarried his old flame, who takes delight in beating Miyo down, metaphorically and literally.

Normally in a Cinderella-type story, the father is dead, gone, or oblivious, but here her father is absolutely complicit in the physical and emotional abuse hurled at Miyo. Her mother's belongings are stolen, she's kept malnourished and inadequately-clothed. To her father she's nothing more than a tool to marry off, and abuse is a great way to make sure she doesn't have the energy to try doing literally anything other than what she's told. To her stepmother and half-sister, she's an object of ridicule for her lack of powers, and a target for the crime of being born from a political marriage rather than the love match that they're related to.

Even when told she's now engaged to and going to live with an infamously-cold man who has driven off multiple fiancees already, Miyo just accepts the situation, because what else can she do? She fully expects to be thrown out at some point, and just hopes that she can manage to put that day off as long as possible by being as invisible and inoffensive as possible.

Kiyoka, the man, for his part is a little prickly, but mostly annoyed at having to deal with a string of upper-class socialites, and rapidly comes around when it's clear that Miyo isn't that.

In fact, Kiyoka realizes what's going on, and also recognizes his feelings, faster than she does--a lifetime of abuse isn't easily healed by a few weeks of respite, and Miyo is essentially waiting for the other shoe to drop the entire time. She's survived abuse, but if she lets herself actually want things, and enjoy her life, then it will feel so much worse when it inevitably gets ripped away like every other nice thing she's ever had.

It's easy, as the viewer, to get a bit frustrated with Miyo sometimes because she won't say when she really wants something, but that's the point. This isn't just the story of a young woman escaping her abusive family for someone who values her, it's also about her having to come to terms with that fact that she has value, and that she's allowed to want things.

Overall, this was a great series, and I'm hopeful it'll get another season at some point. The original light novels, and the manga, are still ongoing (I can recommend the manga; haven't tried the novels) so there's more story. And it's ripe for more: the Cinderella story is the beginning, but the magic of the world and Kiyoka's role in what's essentially an anti-demon military unit of all supernaturally-gifted soldiers gets a good amount of screentime and has its own tantalizing mysteries (and exciting action sequences).

Honestly, the only thing I disliked about the series was this scene near the end when Kiyoka and Miyo are attending an event wearing western-style clothing...those aren't ~1920s clothes, right? I'm not crazy? What Miyo is wearing doesn't matter (I'm still dubious about it but far less so), but the background women... are those gowns with bustles like it's ~1884? Why are there Victorian ballgowns??? This scene lasts for less than 3 minutes in a single episode, it doesn't matter, but I can't stop thinking about it.

Verdict

English dub? Yes!

Visuals: Very pretty. It's a pleasure to watch!

Worth watching? Absolutely. The Cinderella story aspect is great if you like those types of stories, but that's not the only thing going on. The magic here, and politics surrounding it, are intriguing and I can't wait to dive in deeper, whether than manga or anime. Plus, who doesn't like a cool character who can set things on fire? I LOVE a cool character who can set things on fire.

Where to watch (USA, as of December 2023): Netflix

Click my “reviews” tag below or search “mini review” on my blog to find more!

#My Happy Marriage #Watashi no Shiawase na Kekkon #anime #reviews #recommendation #like I'm willing to be wrong about the dress thing in case Japan did keep wearing Victorian-style gowns into the 20s. but. seems weird.

[mpregandproud]

Isaac (Part 6)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9]

Although we met in the city while studying at the university, Sandra and I were born and raised in two small towns that were less than an hour apart. Coming to the hospital for our little girl was the perfect excuse to confront my parents once and for all and tell them the truth. Their son was dating a man, was already the father of a girl and was carrying three babies in his belly. I knew my mother would take it well because she would see me happy with Isaac, but I had more doubts with my father. Esther and Alfred, supported me when I told them, was it going to be different with my parents?

We parked in front of the house where I lived before moving to the city. The garden was impeccably tended, my father put hours into it, and the house, inside, would be sparkling, just the way my mother liked to have it. I didn't come from a wealthy family, but I never lacked for anything. It was a nice house and for me it meant bringing back a lot of memories.

I walked up the steps to the door and knocked on it three times like I did when I was little and forgot my keys when I left the house. I heard a commotion inside, I know my mother had recognized my knocking instantly. A clatter of footsteps came to the door and opened it. It was my father and mother on the other side. A chubby little woman with rosy cheekbones and curly hair. My father was taller, balding by now, though you could guess that as a young man he looked just like me right now. He was also sporty as a young man, but now he sported a big beer belly.

They hugged me, ate me up with kisses and ushered us inside. I'm sure they didn't notice Isaac and little Sandra, their attention was directed only to me. We sat in the living room and my father offered us beers. "Two guys as big as you have to have a good beer," he said. Typical comment from my father. He poured us the beers, while my mother put on some iced tea. My father and Isaac drank beer, but mine was untouched. "You're not going to drink?" he asked me in surprise. "Dad, I can't drink beer. I think it's time for us to talk," I said. My parents looked at each other in surprise and stood mute giving me their attention.

"Dad, Mom, this man who came with me is Isaac, my current partner," I dropped the first bombshell. Surprisingly there were no negative reactions, although my father didn't seem entirely comfortable. He was an old-fashioned man, yes, but I think he knew that Isaac made me too happy to blurt out an off-hand comment. "We've been together for almost five months now, I met him when I divorced Sandra. You could say I was introduced to him by cousin Alfred, and for me it was love at first sight. He's the man of my life, he's the one who makes me happy, who makes me feel safe, no one else understands me like he does. And he is the father of my children", it came naturally to me, without thinking about it, without giving it any more thought. It was one of those comments that sometimes you make and until you have not done it you do not value the consequences. Everything was going great, but I had to say it so bluntly. "The father of your children? Is this child your daughter?" my mother asked.

I told them the whole story of little Sandra and the sad passing of her brother and her mother, my ex-wife Sandra. And, of course, I told them that I was pregnant with triplets. They had taken it for granted that I had put on even more weight than the last time they had seen me, shortly after the divorce. My mother hugged us and started playing with little Sandra. I don't know if she understood everything, but for her everything was fine, her child was happy and she was going to be a multiple grandmother. My father was slow to react, but he did. "Are you happy like this, my son? Does this man make you happy?" he asked me. "Yes, very much, more than ever in my life," I replied very sure of my answer. "Then I have nothing more to say. I love you very much son," and he gave me a hug. Our bellies collided, it was already difficult to hug my father before I got pregnant, but with two prominent bellies in between it was complex, but we did it. "Isaac, welcome to the family. Thank you for making my son happy. I have never seen him so convinced of anything as he is now, not even when he told us he was going to marry Sandra. Today, finally, I saw him in love. I may not understand many things about gays, but I do understand my son's happiness, and for me that's the only thing that matters. Give me a hug!" he said and the two of them embraced each other tightly.

We decided to stay with them for a couple of days, so I could also take the opportunity to see my friends from high school and the soccer team and update them on the new Dan. My parents set up my old room for us, where dozens of my girlfriends passed through. Now there I was, lying in bed next to my boyfriend, pregnant and with Sandra's crib next to the bed. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined such a scene for my adult self.

That first night Isaac and I talked a lot, he told me how important it was for him that my parents welcomed him into their family as one of their own. When he came out when he was 18 in front of his family, they rejected him. He had a really hard time and since then he has no relationship with them. He went to the city to live, to study literature. He paid for his studies by working in bars where he met Bruce, Ken, Tom and Justin, his chosen family. He shared an apartment with them for many years and they were his emotional support to overcome the trauma with his parents. That night I understood better why his friends were so important to him. As for many gay teens, friends are the safe place when your family pushes you aside. I felt closer than ever to Isaac after that conversation, and also reconciled, in a way, with the image I had of my family.

The next few days I hung out with my soccer friends. Gary was now the coach of the local team, Lucas had moved back to town where he started a tech business, Samuel was working on his parents' farm, and Frank, who was a teenage father with Stephania, one of the prettiest girls in high school, opened a grocery store and was already the father of three girls. They were among the few players still in town. I met them for beers. Again, turning down a beer was the perfect excuse to tell my story. Everyone congratulated me and wanted to meet Isaac.

The surprise came when Lucas confessed to me that as a young man he was in love with me. Lucas, the most handsome boy in the whole team and the one who rejected one by one all the girls. When we were young we didn't understand why he said no to them, but now it all makes sense. Lucas had fallen in love in college with another guy and together they set up the tech business in town. They were engaged and would be married in a few months. "If we ever want to be parents, will you be our surrogate?" he asked jokingly. "You'll have to negotiate that with my lawyer," I told him.

Spending four days eating my mother's food was not the best thing for my belly. In four days I gained 10 more pounds. I already weighed 268 pounds. I had to buy new clothes in town because the ones Isaac packed in my suitcases were only good for him to get horny watching me expose my huge belly. My parents also gave us a lot of things for little Sandra, a crib, toys from when Esther and I were little and a lot of my sister's tiny clothes.

A week after we left home we were back in the city. Now we were one more, the house looked fuller than ever, but this was just the beginning. In just over four months I was due to give birth to our triplets. Our family was growing, and nothing made me happier than seeing it together.

To be continued...

#mpreg #mpreg story #pregnant man #pregnant guy #male pregnancy #pregnant #man pregnant #gay #Isaac

[not-a-puzzle]

Why the "pick-me" insult is sexist and transphobic, and why it needs to stop being tossed around like rice at a wedding.

I can't hide it; I've hated this insult ever since I first heard it come out of a snobby teenage girl's mouth. Something about it fired up my instincts, it got under my skin like salt on a snail's underbelly where it scratched and burned until I had to get myself to address why I hate it so much.

Well first off was the way I first heard it used, in a snobby, holier than thou tone said in a very mean girl type way, y'all know what I'm talking about. The Blaire White type tone. Judgmental, derogatory, like the way Fundamentalist Christians say slurs against trans people.

And that brings me to my next point, the term is undeniably transphobic, or at least, regressive to non-binary expressions of gender. Ya'll might think it's an insult used towards a certain attitude or behavior, but alas, I've seen this term used against tomboys or any girl who doesn't express herself in a hyperfeminine way enough times to know it's really sexism fueling the sheer amount we hear this term flung about now. (And I suspect there's actually a right-wing element to this.)

But on top of that, it runs under the assumption that any thing girls do is soley to catch the attention of men. Wear a crop top? You're doing that for men? Showing your shoulders, OH YOU WHORE! So by assuming a girl is a tomboy or likes video games or whatever that they're just screaming, "OMG BOYZ PICK ME OMG!!" you are making a judgement based off fucking nothing, often by people who do nothing but yell the second they turn on a camera, or want a reason to bully someone, cause a guess life is too boring for y'all if you're not harassing someone at least once a day?

What makes it worse is that most girls aren't super feminine. Lots of girls like things boys like too and vice versa, and yet our society is still so segregated based on gender that we STILL gender things from color to hobbies to clothing. Isn't that so old-fashioned you can smell the rancidity??

My point is, GOD FORBID WOMEN DO ANYTHING!

And do you ever consider if she's trying to not be like other girls, maybe it has nothing to do with her not liking girls, but with the rapid capitalist fueled consumerism and shallowness and unwritten social rules girls are being brainwashed with. (I mean, look at the 10- and 11-year-olds making a mess of Sephora and tell me that's how girls are meant to act naturally. No, they've been brainwashed by social media, and sadly, they want to grow up far too quickly and don't value their childhood, but rant for another day.)

And to round out this rant, I will say a lot of tomboys are girls on the autism spectrum, thus they may find it easier to befriend guys than girls (at least when they're all young) because guys generally (note I say generally here) are less prone to enforcing unwritten social rules and confusing figurative language than girls are. And guess what? A hallmark autism is a more literal mindset than a social one.

And besides, in the situation that a girl takes on a new way of expressing herself to attract guys, what's actually wrong with that? Don't you know how often I've seen girls dress up and fake act like a guy's jokes are so funny so they can start a relationship? Because someone wants to loved or horny or both. (Which there's nothing wrong with.) So, why is it wrong to use the technique of wanting to attract someone by being interested in things they're interested in? Or worse yet, not running around shouting about how "all men are pigs." So, oh dear, pick me isn't just sexist against women, it's sexist against men, because I also often see it used against women who don't hate all men.

Or say it's an incel type situation, JUST FUCKING CALL HER AN INCEL? WTF is up with gendering our insults. Why do guys and girls need different terms if it's actually the case for showing the same behaviors? Call women simps, call them incels, stop reserving insults for guys until you want to assume a girl is just doing something for guy's attention for which you want to shame her for that aspect. (Because it's wrong to be horny all the sudden? This not only pisses me off, but it also confuses the hell out of me.) But hey, you judgmental bitches out there, maybe she, a girl a woman, LIKES SOMETHING!! OH NO!! How dare she, she's a femiod! (Do I need to point out the last few sentences are sarcasm?)

And remember girls, pick-me is not an insult against loser-type, blaming everyone else for their mistake's behavior like incel is, it's a direct insult against a girl DARING to go against pre-established gender roles. Who are the people actually putting boys and girls in boxes, affirming established gender roles by implying other types of behavior is against the norm? Is it the simple tomboy, or the jerks who continue using this insult without realizing it's an insult created specifically to force traditional femininity upon women instead of letting them be who they are.

(A lot of these "dreaded pick-me's" are probably non-binary too folks.)

Don't get me wrong, this gif goes both ways. Obviously when girls have been boxed in all their lives, they're gonna get obnoxious about it when they aren't inside the box anymore. Yet, those who fling around the pick-me insult are calling attention to the breaking of gender roles all the more, and in the way that actually enforces them rather than the thing I think "pick-me's" actually do, and that's desperately trying to build a unique personality and find themselves in a world that still limits women so much. Can you blame someone for trying to fight against something, even if they are doing so in a sloppy way?

Well, I'll leave off this long rant post with saying this was inspired when the Misery Machine posted a video of a woman who fucking murdered people, but instead of actually focusing on the crime, they focus on the aspect of her being a pick-me. Why? She was goth. Yup. I bet you're pissed too now. Her being a pick me had nothing to do with being a murderer, so why even bring it up?

I'm not trying to language police, I'm just trying to call out attention to quite frankly might just be a new slur, which people will look back on in shame. There's so much hatred against a lot of today's slang, so why isn't the worst slang getting more hatred than words like gyatt or fantom tax, which are harmless at the end of the day.

My main point, LET PEOPLE ENJOY THINGS and MIND YOUR OWN BUISNESS!!!! Let's be aware of all the little things designed to degrade people and bring them down while the corporations profit off our insecurities they created in us, and we can start by not using insults coined by Grey's Anatomy of all things.

#pick me #trans rights #fuck misogyny #fuck misogynists #fuck sexist insults #tw sexism #tw transphobia #fuck abelism #tw abelism #fuck conservatives #autism #mental health #lgbtq #lgbt #lgbt rights #gender nonconformist #neurodivergent awareness #nonbinary #stupid shit #pick me is a bad insult

[hiroshotreplica]

also can u infodump about ur agents

hi i will but its kind of a lot. Putting a break on this cause its long

Alister's a chill but still serious guy. He used to play turf war and ranked a ton as a kid while also working as agent 3 for the new squidbeak splatoon. His parents are missing. Cuttlefish took care of him cause of that, kinda treated him like a grandson. He almost outranked callie and marie in terms of skill before he was partially sanitized. He's a bit bad at taking care of himself. The only medication he's willing to take is his antidepressants. He loves the squid sisters and has so much merch of them, mainly from his youth. He has no fashion sense and will walk out of the house in the worst outfit you've ever seen thinking he did ok. He renamed the nss to neo squidbeak splatoon when he was promoted to captain. He loves his boyfriend josh a lot, ignore the fact they tried to kill each other in their first encounter. They live together.

Zara is cheerful and seemingly confident. But she thinks of herself as a fraud and is worried about people finding that out. She's good at her job as agent 4 and more but she focuses on her mistakes a lot. She is really good at building and using computers and the like. Her laptop is enhanced by octarian technology, she has reverse-engineered it. She prefers making friends more than splatting enemies, but knows when she needs to stop being friendly. She used to have a celebrity crush on Pearl and Marina when she was young. It didn't stick but she still loves the two. She has worked with them and still does as a social media manager. She is a lot less involved in agent work than she was as a kid due to her job + being with her girlfriend but she still loves it.

Josh is really mysterious, but still very talkative and nice. He has a lot of repressed memories. He's glad he can't remember some of them. He used to be a trainee in the octarian military. The calamari inkantation changed his life. He used to be a lot more daring and reckless, but he'll never remember. He's agent 8 of the new squidbeak splatoon. Something's wrong with him, but he's okay. He has a special interest (inkling culture) that he studies a lot. He isn't the best at socializing sometimes. He's loved alister since the two were stuck in the deepsea metro. He likes wearing most clothing, except for things that are tight. He loves loose, baggy sweaters. It took him awhile to do agent work, but he's good at it. He still can't play turf war matches with pink and teal as the ink colors without feeling dread. Ink bombs scare him a little.

Orion is a bit of a loner. He was recruited as agent 7, by his own request mainly. He's an old friend of josh, though josh doesn't remember that much, and josh seems like a completely different person. He worked in the octarian military until the domes stabilized. He mainly did it for his family, who he still visits often, no matter how awful travelling conditions are. He values connections the most despite insisting on going on missions alone often. He has a bit of an ego due to his experience. It won't ever hurt him though. He wants to train the new agents, though they're hard to work with. He doesn't mind.

Violet is the most energetic of the group. They feel a lot of pressure being neo agent 3, they have a feeling captain alister did a lot as agent 3, from what they've heard. They were an orphan that learned to survive in the wilderness with their best friend, scope. They got help from another soon-to-be close friend, too, and want to repay them by secretly letting them explore alterna (that will definitely go well). They love alterna. They hate the fuzzy ooze. Theyve been partially infected by the fuzzy ooze, though this doesnt show too much. Mr. grizz considered them partially mammalian when the two first met. They hated that. They want to be a pro splatterscope player when theyre older. They love the z+f one in particular. They do aim drills with their friends. They love their friends dearly.

Scope is quite rowdy but still well meaning. He had gotten lost from his family while on a salmon run, and violet had found him. He couldn't have asked for a better friend. He doesn't know his original name, he feels bad about it, he wants to learn about his culture. He's agent 5 for the neo squidbeak splatoon. He helps out violet on missions. He was apart of a family of stingers, and strives to be one himself. He really wants to work with violet as snipers some day.

I have an agent 6 in the works, but ill talk about them later

#long post #Sorry for any errors im tired lol #oc: alister #oc: zara #oc: josh #oc: orion #oc: violet #oc: scope

[profanepurity]

Wait so sister imperator gave birth to copia, but he’s still the son of Lilith and lucifer, but lucifer also implied C is a son of nihil? Is this because luci and nihil did the do? And does that mean Lilith and Seestor did the tango as well? Is that how it works?

KIND OF!

Copia’s existence is wild in Praeteritum guys lol I’m so sorry.

If I could attempt to summarize it, yes, part of it involved all of them sleeping together… in the name of Satan, of course. Just imagine the “How I Met Your Mother” promo with them all in a bed, but it’s Lucifer, Lilith, Nihil, and Sister lol. So Sister finds out that Nihil is cheating on her at the same time that she discovers she’s pregnant. Sister and Nihil were open to polyamory, as you can see in my Ghost Riders fic lol, but the issue was Nihil went outside the circle of consent they had established. Lucifer had consent, random girls at rituals did not. At the time, she was planning some shit with Mr Saltarian behind closed doors, and decided to use her baby as a tool to fuel her ambition. I like to think that all the sisters of sin, which would include imperator technically, really value Lilith in the Pseudomonarchia Daemonum- which I know is an actual book, but in this case I’m using it as a general term for the actual monarchy within Hell. So Imperator proposes to the unholy mother that she wants to offer her child as a vessel for hers.

This sounds awesome, right? So the Kings of Hell see this as a perfect opportunity to conceive the antichrist. I should probably mention that Lilith and Lucifer are not technically married in this AU. In fact, the circle of kings that I’ve introduce are all pretty much together, with Lilith being the glue (bc you fall in love with the people that fall from heaven with you, I don’t make the rules) But that’s the reason she chooses Lucifer to be the father, so their son can usher in the end of the world and junk. And also, they’re in love of course. It’s a win win.

So what do they do? They do some ritual shit with blood! Lucifer and Lilith combined their blood into one and infused it into Sister, by extension Copia as well. Lilith, Lucifer, and Sister then“consummated” the ritual afterwards 😏. It probably wasn’t necessarily in the books, but Lucifer was looking at both these hot ass women, and with all his wisdom, our fallen angel says, “I think we should do it the old fashion way too, just to make sure it takes, sweet girl” (ooooh God that’s such a soft pet name. You can only imagine his regret in ever calling her that. You can only imagine how Lucifer was protective as fuck over sister for nine months, went out of his way to keep Nihil in the dark, how HAPPY he was to see Lilith so full of life and excitement after he found her so broken and hurt in that cave, how he genuinely wanted to be a father and create a perfect life as he envisioned, and his ‘sweet girl’ was going to give that to them. All of Hell mourned when Copia was born)

This is why Copia looks a little bit like Lucifer, but also has that Emeritus jaw line and nose (pre surgery). I guess technically, Copia has two moms and two dads lol. It’s a shame Salty found that Solomon pendent and he used Lucifer’s and Lilith’s blood to bind them in such a way that prohibits them for coming into contact with the antichrist as they truly are. Lilith can only offer him kind smiles in passing and gift him food she would bake on occasion as her only way of caring for Copia, knowing how badly her son needed to be told that he was valued.

Lucifer can only watch from a distance as Bishop Stell, seeing his son grow old and bitter that he’s always felt so out of touch with his own religion. Why is he the only Papa that has never heard the voice of Lucifer? Perhaps he was really never meant to be Papa. Perhaps Lucifer hates him, and that’s why he took all his brothers away.

This is derailing horribly but I have to add just one more thing on that note. Lucifer did not take the other Papas away. It was not their time. It was not in his plan for them to pass yet, but he was ready to welcome them with open arms and tell them how proud and pleased he was in their service as prophets. He held their hands and heads as the poison took its course through their bodies, invisible as the unholy master.

“You did great kiddo, I’ll see you in a minute” he smiled at Primo as he watched the light leave his eyes and his heart stop. And he waited…. And he waited…. But they never came to Hell. Bishop Stell spends a lot of nights standing over the other Papas in their caskets. He doesn’t know where their souls are. He thinks they’re stuck inside the glass caskets, but he can’t break them open.

Lucifer looked at all four of the papas as his sons, and his church took all of them from him. But this wouldn’t be the first time Lucifer was betrayed by his own people. No wonder he’s such an evil son of a bitch.

#owwwww I made myself sad with this one #guys I suck at summaries I’m so sorry #fuck man why do I write such sad shit #the band ghost au #praeteritum au #asks answered #asks are always appreciated

[goldenkwilde]

wait, is that KITTY WILDE? they kinda look a lot like SYDNEY SWEENEY, don’t they? i heard the TWENTY-ONE year old is known as the SOCIALITE around mckinley. it seems like they auditioned to be in THE TROUBLEONES which is so lame? people at campus have said they’re BEAUTIFUL, but don’t be fooled since they’re also CRUEL. rumor has it, you can find them at CHEERIOS AND CELIBACY CLUB when they aren’t belting show tunes. their entire vibe revolves around AN IMMACULATE SOCIAL MEDIA FEED, ICE-COLD EYES THAT CAN FIND AND EXPLOIT YOUR WEAKNESSES WITHIN SECONDS, THE PERFECT CHERRY RED LIP GLOSS but no one pays attention to that here in ohio.

HEADCANONS

All of Kitty’s life has revolved around being perfect. Her father was an extremely successful entrepreneur, and her mother was your typical trophy wife, so Kitty was expected to be the immaculate trophy daughter. She largely took it in her stride, and her mixture of familial wealth, inherited ruthlessness, and the most devastatingly beautiful face her small town had ever seen was the perfect concoction to be mutually adored and feared throughout her adolescence.

(Sexual assault TW) When Kitty was eleven years old, she was assaulted at a sleepover by her friend’s older brother. Being generally maladapted to deal with her own emotions, as well as wrestling with a lifetime of religious shame, Kitty never breathed a word of it to anyone, choosing instead to pretend that it hadn’t happened and enacting her indirect revenge on her abuser’s sister. She tells herself that it’s fine and that she’s moved on, but the truth is that she’s never been further than a chaste makeout session, and it’s not because of the cross she wears around her neck as armour.

Despite this, Kitty has a reputation, and not one that most people would be happy with. It doesn’t bother her though, and she’s never found herself in a situation feeling pressured to engage in any activities she wasn’t enthusiastic about- not that any guy who valued his face remaining intact would ever try to pressure her. She’s never attempted actual dating; her romantic involvements have been sporadic and commitment-free, despite some genuinely trying otherwise. Any desire for a relationship is spurred on by her image than any genuine feelings.

The need to be perfect still permeates Kitty’s entire existence- at least, that is, the need to appear perfect. She wakes up at 5 am every morning to complete her 18-step skincare, haircare, and makeup routine as well as squeeze in an hour at the gym before class. Her flawless GPA has never wavered for a moment, despite a manicured Instagram feed that shows her at every party within a 20 mile radius of Lima, occasionally also taking private flights to LA and New York for more exclusive events. Kitty’s life is the stuff of legends, but you’d be hard-pressed to hear her describe herself as ‘happy’.

BASICS

full name: christina “kitty” elyse wilde pronouns: she/her nicknames: k hometown: sun valley, idaho birthday & age: october 7th / 21 years old relationship status: single sexuality: straight, but not narrow occupation: student at mckinley arts college sports/clubs: cheerio, celibacy club glee club: the troubletones major: fashion design

CONNECTIONS

bree brown: they hate each other. not much else to comment on.

hunter clarington: he wants to get into her bed, she loves hearing how much he does, there’s enough tension to fuel a rocket, and absolutely 0 chance of anyone catching feelings. right? right??

quinn fabray: the candle on kitty's altar bears the holy image of quinn fabray.

kurt hummel: he keeps her grounded in reality - a place she is not used to being

jacob ben israel: that gossip blog he runs is excellent for her purposes, and he'll take all the dirt she can give him.

dottie kazatori: kitty’s charity case, but she’d be lying if she said she felt total disdain for the girl.

ryder lynn: you know when your situationship ditches you because they're talking to someone else who ends up being a catfish and then it's super awkward and upsetting? yeah.

sugar motta: sugar cheered her on while she poured sand over aaron tomson's head in kindergarten. they've been joined at the hip ever since.

noah puckerman: she might be a prissy wasp from a gated community and he might be the hustler from the wrong side of the tracks but they were siblings in another life.

sebastian smythe: friends, but if you ever see a knife in kitty’s back, check sebastian’s kitchen drawer first.

jeff sterling: when kitty joined sterling silver she’d hoped for a slightly more chilled-out frontman.

open to any other ideas for connections!

#wmacintro #about