#bel moor’s

[felinefractious]

Bel-Moor’s V & Bel-Moor’s Vimmy

🐱 Toybob

📸 Bel-Moor’s

🎨 Seal Sepia, Seal Mink

[yankeeblue]

[thedisdainfullysilentvisitor]

If I were to do a photomanip of iconic tv show women, I honestly can only think of like, four of them. And google showed me Mindy Lahiri being one and I do not agree with that (cause of her gloating about assaulting a cast member and threatening to fire a crew member for pointing it out to her.) Most of the rest of them I don't know anything about;

Brooke Davis,

Leslie Knope,

Hillary Banks,

Olivia Benson

Lucy Ricardo

Blair Waldorf (I did watch Gossip girl but I don't know that she's a positive female icon)

Really I consider a woman icon of a tv show being a powerful woman that lifts other women up and in their show, paves a way of goodness in example. So the ones I DO know are;

Dana Scully

Xena

Gabrielle (from Xena, although she wasn't listed)

Buffy

Olivia Pope (now, google reminded me of her)

I consider Elena Gilbert and Emma Swan to be as well.

And then Google said the tv personality of Mary Tyler Moore, Mary Richards. Does she fit that narrative?

[ultraericthered]

Precious Sinnamon Rolls In October, Long Overdue Third One

[randomrichards]

BEL CANTO:

The Opera Singsr

Guest held hostage at party

Seeing perspectives

[opera-ghosts]

Grace Moore sings Casta Diva from Bellini's opera Norma. From A Lady's Morals movie.

Remembering Grace Moore on her birthday:

b. December 5, 1898, Del Rio, Tennessee d. January 26, 1947, Copenhagen, Denmark

[lavoixhumaine]

Angela Bassett lending her voice in a short film for Architectural Digest featuring Ryan Murphy’s reimagining of Richard Neutra’s 1955 Brow House in Bel Air

▶️ full video

[xxnashiraxx]

WIP Whenever 🩸

@khywren tagged, and so I shall heed the call. 😌

I'm way too excited to leave all this angst behind- so much, that I'm halfway done with Chapter 20! And it's going to be a TREAT 😏

Here's a little snippet for everyone!

On one hand… it’s almost enough. Something’s missing- his words are pretty, but still… lacking. It’s nothing more than a feeling- one she can’t quite put a name to as it flits, elusive, just outside her periphery. When she looks at him, she tries to search for it in his eyes, swallowed by the darkness that eclipses his claret irises. Her heartbeat thunders in her ears, a deafening roar that tries to drown her insight with tantalizing images of his lips on her skin, siphoning salvation from her artery like a man at the altar. It clouds every space in between, leaving her leaning slightly forward, hair falling behind her shoulder. “I want to start over,” He repeats his earlier appeal, lids drifting softly, crowding into her space with barely an inclination of his head. “My name is Astarion. I’m a vampire from Baldur’s Gate.” The spell lapses for a moment, and she snorts. “Nice to meet you,” “Stupid,” She mutters, though she can’t hide the smile trying to break free. Either she’s the fool, doomed to repeat her mistakes over and over, or he is. And if it’s the latter, he’ll be sorry. But not now… now she’ll reclaim that crown to a kingdom of ignorance- population one. “I’m Ofelia,” She says, breath catching when his fingers cover hers, mooring her to the stone beneath and keeping her from drifting off. “I’m not from Toril… and I’m possessed.” His lips twitch, trying to cover his amusement. “Hope that’s okay,” “More than, darling,” She cradles him in her eyes, oblivious to the powerlessness of her hold over him. It burrows like shrapnel, creeping closer and closer to ending his tireless charade- one she too knows nothing of… Though she’d tried to latch onto it, now it slips through her fingers into obscurity- buried where even he hopes he won’t find it. Maybe… it’ll never see the light of day again- maybe, they can both share her throne. Together. “Drink,” She petitions, more of a declaration than a question. He spares her from further objection, rising to his knees to tower over her. It’s as if she can see the moon behind him again, blue flora illuminating him with ethereal silver. “Like this?” He questions, hands hovering over her shoulders in an impression of laying her back. She shakes her head, unwilling to fully relive the experience, before turning completely from him. If… they try something different, maybe she won’t linger on memories that now hide away from the light he’s relit within. “Behind me,” She murmurs, feeling him settle around her to pull her close. A thousand emotions bubble up through her skin, flooding the surface in gooseflesh and stilted anticipation. She feels almost trapped, yet at the same time freed- the blade reflecting her acceptance and willingness to help him while flashing the side of hesitance and fear for what he may say or do in the future… The sharp edge of her wariness to trust again, coupled with her desire to surrender to it. Give in, give in, give in… But that’s how she got into this predicament in the first place. “Astarion,” A bitter taste, settling at the back of her tongue, and she sucks a breath in when he brushes the hair over her shoulder to expose the right side of her neck. “Make it hurt.”

No pressure tagging my beloveds (you can ignore if you've already been tagged in these the last couple days! I'm trying to narrow my list and not be genuinely unhinged with tags): @pinkberrytea @caffeinatedmunchkin @andromedaancunin @bby-bel-art @nerdallwritey @lanafofana @vividiana @heylittleriotact @inkymoonbunny @roguishcat @obsessedwhyyes @bloodinwine @hellethil @verbenaa @alwaysmauria @deadly-diminuendo @marlowethebard

[reapersmarch]

look before you leap

If you had to pinpoint the exact moment your hearing up and abandoned you, you would have to say it was about the time Ricardo stated: “That’s one of the things I love about you.”

You heard it in a delayed echo initially, barely registering what was being said as another off-hand comment or joke or story for the evening. You even chuckled along and uttered out a soft, yeah, in agreeance to a statement you hadn’t even comprehended properly yet. You couldn’t fathom why your heart was beating so quickly and so loudly, or why your face suddenly grew hot, and all you were catching was the shrill ringing in your ears.

Before all of that, before Ricardo blindsided you with something you think neither of you anticipated unfolding before you, the evening was actually quite pleasant. It almost felt ‘just like old times’, whatever that means. The days of yore, you suppose, when you spent all of your time attached at the hip, fingers hooked into each other's belt loops to keep yourselves pressed in close. In retrospect, it’s a wonder you couldn’t see it then, how close you really were. What he was saying without ever saying it.

The difference tonight, however, is that you were letting yourself enjoy it. You didn’t even realize just how much you were enjoying it to begin with until you moved to the living room and your cheeks were sore from how hard you’d been smiling. It was all so domestic. Domesticity hardly suited you as you know it now, but you wanted that once. It feels like an eternity ago that you were denying yourself the opportunity, forcing an issue that didn’t need to be there.

You were young, stupid. Played cold and distant to keep yourself safe, trying so hard to isolate yourself while he kept trying to thaw your worst parts, and when that didn’t work, you turned to what would: commitment. Ricardo wouldn’t commit to a damn thing and you knew that. So you asked for it. You asked him to put a label on the fun you were having and he behaved the way you expected him to—he balked and said he couldn’t. Not that he didn’t want to. He just couldn’t.

But he didn’t even really say that, did he?

If you trawl through the hazy mist that is the moors of your memory, what did he actually say?

You asked: In another life, in another universe, if you weren’t you and I weren’t I, could this have worked?

And he said: Yes.

He said: You deserve more than what I can give you.

He said: I like having fun with you, but—

And it was the but you clung to. It was the but you used as an excuse to deny yourself an ounce of the personhood you so desperately craved.

You won out in the end, but the cost was high.

Tonight, though.

Tonight, you’ve let yourself smile and reminisce and laugh with reckless abandon. You’ve cracked jokes, shared kisses, let him sit close to you and fiddle with the earring you still wear after all this time. You let his arms encircle your waist and his chin settle on your shoulder while you washed the dishes, and didn’t bat an eyelash when his face found the crook of your neck.

It’s a little surreal, just how open you’re allowing yourself to be. 

Then he said it—that’s what I love about you—and everything pulled hard to port.

Thus, bringing this full circle.

Ricardo joins you on the couch, where you remain frozen, thoughts stuck in a rotating gyre of total confusion and chaotic elation.

“Earth to Bel,” his voice cuts through the mire, soft and teasing, “have I lost you for good, space cadet?”

Not yet.

Your mouth falls open and you suck in a sharp breath as if to speak, but nothing escapes you, each word scrabbling over the other to be the first that claws its way out of your mouth. The sides of your vision are beginning to blacken—oh, fuck, you really are going to faint, aren’t you? Reflexively, you grab his hand, clutching so tightly you think you might cut off the blood flow to his fingers.

He gently but firmly squeezes your hand, grounding you again, calling you back down safely from orbit.

“Ricardo, what…” you blink and shake your head a few times in a desperate bid to clear it. “You… what?”

It isn’t that strange a thing to say—you love Danny’s enthusiasm, for instance, and have said as much to him before—and in any other context, that might be true. But you and Ortega have never even admitted to ‘like-liking’ one another. Never mind indirectly saying—well. You aren’t entirely sure what he’s saying. You surely know what you want him to be saying, but whether or not that’s the case… you’ll have to stop being a coward to find out.

“Hm?” he gives you a quizzical look and you aren't sure if he’s faking it, but you’re surprisingly annoyed about it anyway. It’s the birds cawing in your stomach, making you this way. It’s the raw primal fear that you imagined it, that you’re about to be rejected again and again and again for the single worst sin you could possibly commit—wanting.

So, you pry open your mouth and begin to speak: “You—”

“I love you,” he says. “Yeah.”

There it is.

He knew exactly what you were trying to ask after, and he didn’t need to be able to read your mind to do it.

“Took you dying for me to fess up to it,” he continues. “I always knew. I was just…”

Afraid.

He was afraid, just as much as you were. Scared of such big feelings that you couldn’t be sure were really yours or not, and that you didn’t know how to contain. Scared that it would all be taken away from you. Scared that there was something wrong with you for wanting more, wanting affection, wanting love of any kind.

And then you found it in him. In the way he made you feel so normal. Years you spent feeling like a Martian, struggling to acclimate to the societal rules of a world you didn’t know; being told what to feel, how to feel, when to talk, what to say, how to say it. It took a practiced effort day in, day out: raise your inflection here. Tilt your head like this. Laugh this way. No, not like that. Try again. Try again. Try again.

But then you met Ricardo Ortega, and it all came so naturally. He looked at you like you were anybody off the street, without knowing you, what you really are. The heinous orange lines marring your skin didn’t matter, he didn’t know. To him, you were just Niall. And then you were just Bel, and then just Red, and then just you. It didn’t matter whatever else you had going on, you were you, and that’s all he saw.

He made you believe it, too—that you were a person. That you were human, and worthy of being loved. You latched on to him like he was your salvation, and part of you still believes that he is. 

But a small, gnawing corner of your mind insists that when you tell him the truth, he’ll hate you. He will hate you, and all of this will have been for nothing, and there is nothing that you can do or say to fix that, but right now, he loves you. And, Christ, do you ever still love him.

You haven’t the foggiest fucking idea what to say, but he squeezes your hand again, looking at you with an expression that falls somewhere between concern and fondness, and you do the only thing you can think of: you kiss him.

You kiss him, and hope it says enough. You kiss him, and pour every ounce of you and the way he’s made you feel into it, and hope he understands what it is you’re trying to say: I have loved you for seven years. I still love you. I don’t know how to stop. I don’t want to stop. I’m sorry for what I am about to do. Please forgive me. I still love you.

At some point, you stop, and Ricardo wordlessly takes your hand, leading you back to the bedroom. 

“I’m not trying to start anything,” he promises when you get there. “I just think… we should share a bed again?”

It’s asked sheepishly, in the smallest, unsure voice, and your chest constricts. The first time you ever shared a bed was because you put him in the fucking hospital. That shouldn’t count. So you nod, your arms snaking their way around his waist without waiting, and he draws you in closer and closer still, until there’s no space between you. You bury your face against his shoulder, breathe him in, and do your damnedest not to start weeping. It doesn’t have to be this hard all the time, does it?

At some point, it gets easier, surely, navigating whatever the hell this is.

You put it out of your mind, compartmentalize it for another day, and let yourself sink into how tightly he’s holding on. 

“I keep thinking you’ll disappear on me,” Ricardo admits softly through a laugh. You know, though, the thinly masked fear in his voice. He can’t hide that. “And I don’t want to, I don’t know… waste more time worrying over the stupidest shit. I don’t want to lose sight of you again and have to hang on to all of—” he gestures broadly with one hand, you can feel it leave your waist momentarily before the warmth of his arm settles there again “—that with nowhere to put it.”

Your fingers clutch at his shirt, your eyes squeeze shut. How long has it been since you’ve said anything? Minutes? An hour? A decade?

“I’m sorry,” you manage, swallowing thickly. “I—”

“It’s fine,” he soothes. “Hey, it’s fine. You haven’t done a thing. And—you don’t have to say it, okay? Not if you don’t want to.”

“I do,” you say quickly, lifting your head. “Want to. Feel the same. I just—need time.”

You’re not sure ‘time’ is a currency you’re rich in.

Should you be wasting it?

“But I do,” you repeat. “Love you.”

It makes your stomach churn, how much you love him.

It’s selfish, you know it is, but you’re willing to face the consequences of your own confession as long as you can have this. A single night, a few sleepless hours, lying face to face and giggling over nothing. Ricardo looks at you like he’s greeting the sun after a long winter, and you can scarcely look at him without burning up, but it’s different this time.

Tonight, you’ll set it all aside. You’ll let yourself bask in the warmth, bottle that up, and let it fuel you for whatever comes next. 

[felinefractious]

Bel-Moor’s Maserati

🐱 Toybob

📸 Vakulenko Yuliya [Bel-Moor’s]

🎨 Seal Sepia with White

[yankeeblue]

[kwebtv]

John Allen Amos Jr. (December 27, 1939 – August 21, 2024) Television and film actor. He was best known for his role as the adult Kunta Kinte in the landmark miniseries Roots and for portraying James Evans Sr. on the CBS television series Good Times. Amos' other television work includes The Mary Tyler Moore Show, a recurring role as Admiral Percy Fitzwallace on The West Wing, and the role of Washington, DC Mayor Ethan Baker in the series The District. Amos has appeared on Broadway and in numerous films in his five-decade career.

Amos was nominated for a Primetime Emmy Award and an NAACP Image Award.

Amos became well known in his first major TV role, playing Gordy Howard, the weatherman on The Mary Tyler Moore Show, from 1970 until 1973. Upon the death of Betty White, Amos and Joyce Bulifant (who played Marie Slaughter) became the last surviving semi-regular cast members of that show (not counting child actors). In 1971, he appeared with Anson Williams in a commercial for McDonald's.

In 1980, he starred in the television film Alcatraz: The Whole Shocking Story. Amos played an Archie Bunker-style character in the 1994 sitcom 704 Hauser, a modern spin-off of All in the Family, but it was canceled after only five episodes (in the series he played a different character than he did in the All in the Family spin-off Maude). He also portrayed Captain Dolan on the TV show Hunter from 1984 to 1985. He co-starred in the CBS police drama The District. Amos was a frequent guest on The West Wing, portraying Admiral Percy Fitzwallace, who serves as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff for most of the show. He played Buzz Washington in the ABC series Men in Trees. Amos co-starred with Anthony Anderson in the short-lived TV series All About the Andersons in 2003.

In 2010, Amos also appeared as recurring character Ed on Two and a Half Men, and in 2016 as another recurring character, also (coincidentally) named Ed, on the Netflix sitcom The Ranch. He has guest-starred in a number of other television shows, including Police Story, The A-Team, The Cosby Show, The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, In the House, Martin as Sgt. Hamilton Strawn (Tommy's father), Touched by an Angel, Psych, Sanford and Son, My Name Is Earl, Lie to Me, and Murder, She Wrote. (Wikipedia)

IMDb Listing

[imasradiantasthesun]

Hey!!!

I’m interested in your thoughts: how many living Victors do you think each District has at the time of the QQ reaping?

omg hi!! thank you so much for the ask, i love talking about the victors!! iirc there were 59 victors still alive shortly before the quell, so here's what i think:

1: 11 total, 8 living: Jasper Montgomery (2nd, dec.); Ruby Red Bird (6th); Mirage Dubois (17th); Luxe Cloud (22nd); Jade Crawford (30th); Onyx O'Hara (42nd); Amber Nova Astor-Moon (51st); Quartz Whitegrass (59th); Cashmere Davenport (63rd); Gloss Davenport (64th); Crystal Chanel Michaels (66th)

2: 14 total, 11 living: Rex Barnes (1st, dec.); Atticus Nader (4th, dec.); Diana Roseman (8th, dec.); Florence Malina (19th); Ace Robinson (27th); Violet Rashid (28th); Valerie Banks (36th); Brutus Kumar (40th); Emmeline (Lyme) Lin (46th); Leo Kalinin (52nd); Sebastian Kim (56th); Enobaria Moore (62nd); Augustus Braun (67th); Julian Stone (72nd)

3: 5 total, 4 living: Edie Faris (13th, dec.); Sofie Park (26th); Beetee Latier (33rd); Wiress Payne (48th); Gage Patel (54th)

4: 10 total, 9 living: Tomi Ando (5th, dec.); Magdalena (Mags) Flanagan (11th); Caspian Zhang (15th); Siobhan Sullivan (24th); Dylan Kahale (32nd); Estrella Williams (39th); Pearl Davis (49th); Halia Kane (55th); Finnick Odair (65th); Anemone (Annie) Cresta (70th)

5: 4 total, 3 living: Dacie Quinn (16th, dec.); Porter Millicent Tripp (38th); Wyatt Medina (44th); Vander Allen (61st)

6: 3 total, 2 living: Basma Ford (23rd, dec.); Adrienne Mercedes Hughes (43rd); Miles Horowitz (60th)

7: 5 total, 3 living: Phyll Thomas (9th, dec.); Olive Sato (20th, dec.); Grover Hits Back (41st); Blight Hackman (58th); Johanna Mason (71st)

8: 4 total, 4 living: Woof Dimatteo (12th); April Webber (21st); Sasha Travin (35th); Cecelia Balan (57th)

9: 5 total, 4 living: Malt Waters (7th); Robin Blue Ryan (25th, dec.); Maisie Olson (34th); Erika Miller (53rd); Isaac Mesteth (68th)

10: 4 total, 3 living: Vina Garza (18th); Aubrey Flores (29th, dec.); Paxton Bernal (47th); Bel Cuervo (73rd)

11: 6 total, 5 living: Cane Harrison (3rd, dec.); Honeydew Hayes (14th); Seeder Chapman (31st); Harvey McLean (37th); Chaff Santana (45th); Clementine Jones (69th)

12: 4 total, 3 living: Lucy Gray Baird (10th, dec.); Haymitch Abernathy (50th); Katniss Everdeen & Peeta Mellark (74th)

i think that the majority of the deceased victors passed away from old age, with the exception of a few (general TW because this gets dark):

Dacie Quinn (D5, 16th Games): died of cancer at the age of 53 (56 ADD)

Olive Sato (D7, 20th Games): died in childbirth at age 40 (42 ADD)

Basma Ford (D6, 23rd Games): died from a morphling overdose at age 27 (32 ADD)

Robin Blue Ryan (D9, 25th Games): murdered at age 37 (44 ADD) (imo he was a very unpopular victor in D9 because a) he was voted in, and b) as D9's first actual mentor, he didn't do very well, bringing home only one tribute in the 19 years he mentored)

Aubrey Flores (D10, 29th Games): drowned in his bathtub while drunk at age 40 (53 ADD)

Onyx O'Hara (D1, 42nd Games): died by suicide at age 26 (50 ADD)

anyways... thank you SO much for the ask, i'd love to hear what you think :3

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Black Femme Character Dependency Dark Skin Directory: A

A: The Characters

Abbie Mills Sleepy Hollow | Adelaide Wilson/Red Us | Adrienne Hunt If Beale Street Could Talk | Agent 355 Y: The Last Man | Agura Ibaden Hot Wheels Battle Force | Aleesha Morrison Upload | Alexa Brandt The Twilight Zone: Six Degrees of Freedom | Alexandra Crane Star | Allison Sawyer Those Who Wish Me Dead | Amanda Stern Detroit Become Human | Amari Peters Supernatural Investigations | Amber Bennett Invincible | Amie Sammuelson Conde Eagles | Amina Ramsey Star Trek: Lower Decks | Amy Bellafonte The Passage | Anaya Imanu Tomb Raider | Angel Dynamite Scooby Doo | Angela Abar Watchmen | Angela Goddard Lost in Space | Angela Moore Boy Meets World |

Angela Vaughn Our Kind of People | Anissa Pierce Black Lightning | Anita Friday the 13th pt 4 | Annalise Keating How to Get Away with Murder | Annie Keller Monsterland | Annie Pearson This Is Us | Antigone Domina | Aphasia Glee | April Sexton Chicago Med | Apocalypta Dead 7 | Arabella I May Destroy You | Artemis Wonder Woman Amazons | Ashley Banks The Fresh Prince of Bel Air |  Ashley Collins Here and Now | August King The Kings of Napa | Ava Coleman Abbott Elementary | Aya Al-Rashid The Originals | Ayo Black Panther | Azima Kandie The Last Ship

39 Tags 03/09/2025

A: The Entertainers

Aaron Rose Philip | Abbey Mag | Adelayo Adedayo | Adele Oni | Adella Afadi | Adepero Oduye | Adina Porter | Afton Williamson | Aïssa Maïga | Aja Naomi King | Ajak Deng | Akiima | Akon Changkou | Alexandra Arboleda | Alfre Woodard | Aliet Sarah | Alisha White | Allison Dean | Alysia Rogers | Amanda Warren | Amandla Jahava | Amber Riley |  Amber Ruffin | Andrea Bordeaux | Anesha Bailey | Angel Haze | Angel Theory | Angelica Joy | Angelica Ross | Angelique Noire | Angely Gaviria | Aniela Gumbs | Ann Ogbomo | Ann Wolfe | Anna Diop | Anne Amari | Antoinette Robertson | Ashleigh Morghan | Ashleigh Murray | Ashley Blaine Featherson | Ashley Romans | Asjha Cooper | Assa Sylla | Aube Jolicoeur | Aunjanue Ellis | Awar Mou | Aweng Chuol | Ayisha Issa | Ayo Edebiri

At some point, I decided to separate the BFCD DSD by alphabet.

Updated: 11/30/23, 12/10/24, 12/16/24, 87 tags 03/09/25

[opera-ghosts]

Grace Moore - Vissi d'arte from Puccini's Tosca.

From the 1937 film 'When You're in Love'

Remembering Grace Moore on her birthday: b. December 5, 1898, Del Rio, Tennessee d. January 26, 1947, Copenhagen, Denmark

[hazyaltcare]

Names for a Buddy Holly (Weezer) kin.

Mod Haze (🕹Zampanio)

Name meaning(s) and/or reason(s) for their inclusion under the cut.

Arnold - A masculine name after “Arnold's Drive-In,” which is the location in which the “Buddy Holly” music video portrayed the band to be playing from.

Beloved - An androgynous-feminine name meaning “one who is loved.” Can be shortened to “Bel” as a nickname.

Buddy - An androgynous-masculine name found in the song “Buddy Holly” by Weezer.

Holly - A feminine name found in the song “Buddy Holly” by Weezer.

Mary - A feminine name found in the song “Buddy Holly” by Weezer. This name is also associated with love as a concept.

Moore - A surname found in the song “Buddy Holly” by Weezer that could be repurposed as an androgynous first name.

Paean - A word for a song of praise or triumph that has been repurposed as an androgynous name.

Rivers - An androgynous name after Rivers Cuomo, who is the front man of Weezer and who wrote “Buddy Holly.”

Spike - An androgynous-masculine name after Spike Jonze, who directed the music video for “Buddy Holly.”

Tyler - An androgynous name found in the song “Buddy Holly” by Weezer.