#but also I'm not sure how else that could have gone without adding at least another chapter

[quesocane]

A'ight. I see what y'all mean about the end of HoH being a bit of a cop out.

[unreliablesnake]

Hold on tight (Vincent de Gramont x reader)

Summary: You keep your end of the deal and return to Paris to visit Vincent.

Note: I'm not happy with this. / previously on... / The title comes from this song. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

Warnings: smut(ish)

“It's been more than half a year,” Winston noted one night when you couldn't sleep and decided to join him in the bar. “The Marquis is already looking for you.”

“I know.”

He was right. Rumor had been flying around that he was paying some people to come to the Continental just to check on you in these past months. And all along, Winston did his best to shield you, keep you away from having to face the possibility of meeting him again. But lately things had gotten worse, you knew it.

“You know,” you began once you took a sip of your drink, “I thought time and distance would help me. That I would feel better. That I wouldn't feel the need to be near him. But it's not working, I still want him,” you explained sadly.

“Then go and meet him,” he offered the solution as if it was that easy.

Because it wasn't easy. You were fighting your emotions so hard for a long time, but that emptiness from being away from him just kept crawling back. “And if he somehow convinces me to stay with him?” you asked since it was a possibility. You might get weak and stay if he asked.

“Is that what you're afraid of?” Nodding, you leaned back in the chair and crossed your legs. “He's a bad man. We're not saints either, but at least we follow the rules.”

“How is this supposed to help me? I already knew he's a jerk.”

Winston let out a heartfelt laugh. “What if he can change for the better because of you? What if he would change if that was the price of being with you?”

“I'm not so sure about that.”

“I am,” came his reply that took you off guard. You gave him a questioning look then waited for the explanation. “He's been sending you handwritten letters, and tries to call you almost daily… This man is in love, sweetheart. Who knows how far he would be willing to go to get you.”

You shrugged. “Maybe he will kidnap me again.”

“That didn't work out the first time,” Winston pointed out.

“True.”

“Also, he's not known for his patience, yet he's been waiting long months for you to keep your end of the deal.”

He was right again. Vincent was surprisingly patient with you, he didn't start harassing you through his men, instead he kept his distance and kept an eye on you without saying a word. And while you didn't even want to think about it, Winston pointed out this difference.

The man who was so used to getting whatever he wanted and whenever he wanted it was waiting patiently for a woman. He could have gone out to pick up someone else, but no, according to rumors he was waiting for you. It was hard to decide whether it was flattering or terrifying.

Your boss let out a sigh as he glanced down at the notebook on the table in front of him. “You should go to Paris. However long it takes,” he added before you could say you didn't want to be away from this place in case he needed your help.

He didn't even have to look up to know you were about to object. But you kept your mouth shut, and so you ended up buying a ticket and packing your suitcase in the following hours. “I'm an idiot for doing this,” you told yourself as you collected some items from the bathroom.

Thirteen hours later you once again landed in Paris, although this time you were on your own. Or so you thought. At the airport you were greeted by a man Vincent sent there to pick you up and take you to him. You followed him without asking questions, knowing full well it would be futile to resist and insist on traveling on your own to the hotel where you reserved a room for yourself.

Unlike the last time, the mansion didn't look cold and threatening. No, it was warm and welcoming, a place where you could feel safe right away. Safe. With him. You didn't think these two things would ever be connected by the same sentence. While you'd been here the last time, you were always on the edge, feeling like you didn't belong.

But now? Now you had a feeling you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

A staff member came to help you with your luggage, assuring you that they would take it straight to your room, while a woman came to accompany you to the room Vincent was in at the moment. Your eyes scanned the paintings on the walls as you passed by, the familiar sight making you feel at home.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come,” you suddenly heard the familiar voice say. You looked up and noticed him standing in the hallway, hands folded behind his back as he watched you. He sounded unsure, a quite shocking experience compared to the authoritative Vincent you had met the last time.

You waited until the woman was told to leave and the two of you were left alone before you said anything. “Me too,” you replied quietly. “But someone convinced me to come here and keep my end of the deal.”

Vincent’s jaw tightened and you wondered what made him do it. Was it because you said you were only here because of that deal? It could be the reason.

“I’m glad I’m here,” you added, surprising yourself with this sentence.

Because if you wanted to be honest, you were glad to be in Paris again. To be with him. All those months of thinking about him while your brain tried to warn you forget him had its toll on you. You were tired and doubted your feelings all the time. But now that you were here with him, you began to see clearly.

This man had managed to get under your skin despite being a kidnapper, planting the seeds in your brain that then turned you into this mess eventually. But it worked. You were here, you were yearning for his touch, and you had to fight your instincts to keep your distance for now.

Let's see what he does. You shouldn't throw yourself at him as if he had done nothing wrong. Having a spine is a good thing.

“I got your room ready,” he spoke up again, sounding surprisingly awkward. “I thought you might want to get some rest first. I have a dinner reservation, but if you'd rather stay here, I can have something made for us.”

“We can go out, I guess,” you replied as you nervously swept a strand of hair behind your ear.

Vincent nodded. For a few moments you both stood there in silence, but then he cleared his throat, excused himself, and went back into the room he had previously emerged from. After letting out a long sigh of relief, you headed towards your room, ready to get some well-deserved sleep.

A few hours later you put on a nice dress and did your makeup properly, ready to head out with him for the evening. Because you were sure it wasn't just a dinner he was planning for the two of you. A play? An opera? Maybe a museum? Whatever it would be, you wouldn't object.

As it turned out, you knew him perfectly well, because you were right about his plans. He was hesitant the whole time, as if he wasn't sure how to approach you anymore, but he managed to stay in charge, and that was a good thing.

Because you were too focused on your own needs, on his beautiful green eyes, on his lips, and on his suit. It was just too much to handle, and when you were in the back of the car on the way back to his home, you slowly reached out to take his hand.

He looked surprised, but he wrapped his fingers around your hand, then raised it to his lips to place a soft kiss on it. “I really missed you, my love,” he said.

“Don't think that kidnapping me all those months ago is completely forgiven. But in all honesty, I missed you too. I really did,” you added with a smile before resting your head on his shoulder.

In the next two days, Vincent made sure you felt comfortable in his company. He was nice, and sweet, and things eventually got as intimate as they used to be. You found yourself in his bedroom after a wonderful afternoon in the Louvre, your body pressed to the wall as his lips traced your skin.

He explored your body like this was the first time he had seen it without clothes, and he kept you from moving around, pinning you down to make sure you didn't start removing his clothes. No, he wanted to take his time with you, driving you crazy by not giving you exactly what you wanted.

But a sick part of you loved every second of it, it craved the physical pain not being able to touch him caused. Because you wanted to lay your hands on his body, feeling the smooth skin under your fingertips before moving down to tease his cock.

Vincent could tell you were silently suffering by now, so he kept praising you, even as he got on top of you in bed and leaned down to kiss your collarbone before slowly moving up to your neck. This is when you began to beg him to fuck you, to skip this stupid teasing and finally give you what you needed so badly.

“Would it be weird if I told you I loved you?” you asked him while you were lying in bed together, both of you on the brink of falling asleep.

He let out a quiet, uncharacteristic laugh, then kissed your forehead. “I feel the same way, mon amour,” he told you. “What do you think about staying here for a while? For a few months, maybe.”

You let out a sigh as you thought about his suggestion. Winston had told you to stay as long as you had to, but did you really want to leave him alone for that long? “That's a lot of time, Vincent, I'm not sure. I have responsibilities back home,” you said, more to convince yourself than him.

“Don't you want to be with me?”

“Why don't you come to New York for a week or two? I could show you around,” you offered with a laugh.

He watched you silently for a while, carefully thinking about this idea. Sure, after what had happened the last time he was there, it was understandable if he was a little hesitant.

Maybe it wouldn't be weird to stay in France after all. After leaning over to give him a soft kiss, you rested your forehead against his. “Okay, fine, I'll stay here.”

Little did you know at the time that you wouldn't stay for just a couple of months. You stayed here for good, eventually marrying the man who had almost destroyed your life at one point.

[drabbles-mc]

I Said I'm Fine

JJ Maybank x F!Reader

For Day 14 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: false smile / holding back tears / "I said I'm fine"

Warnings: 18+, language, angst

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I've been wanting to write for JJ again for a while now and these prompts just seemed to good to pass up for him. Hope you enjoy!

OBX Taglist: @garbinge @passionatewrites (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

The pogues all getting back to the Outer Banks was the biggest news on the island since they’d all gone missing. It was funny to you how much people had switched up about them once they were missing. People that you knew for a fact had never said a kind word to any of them were suddenly saying how worried they were, how they hoped that they were all okay wherever they were. It was all bullshit, and you knew it, but it wasn’t worth fighting with them over.

You almost wished that any of it had been sincere, because at least then it wouldn’t have felt like you were suffering alone. But, as it stood, you had no one. The more time that went by, the less people even pretended to care, and the more alone you felt.

But then they all came home.

There was nothing else in your life that could’ve compared to the feeling of relief that came when you found out that it was true, that they really were all back on the island. All of those weeks with absolutely no news, and now you were going to be able to see them all again. It felt like your heart was going to leap clean out of your chest.

You didn’t really know what you expected, but when you stopped by the chateau to see everyone, the only person that you saw there was John B. It made sense that everyone would’ve gone off in their different directions, but part of you was hoping that you would be able to see them all together before they split off.

It didn’t stop you from hugging John B tight enough to you to risk cracking his ribs. “I’m so glad you guys are okay,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes.

He laughed but you could hear the heaviness in it as he said, “Yea, me too.”

Pulling back, you quickly wiped the tears from your face. “Where…where is everyone?”

He shook his head, looking as bewildered as you felt. He didn’t know what else to do besides shrug. “Not sure. I think that everyone went…went home. Sarah went to get some stuff from Tannyhill but then she’ll be back here.”

“What about JJ?”

John B shrugged again. “He didn’t say where he was going exactly. Just figured he was going back to his house.”

Your heart sank at that. His house. His house that you knew for a fact was now taped off and slated to be seized by the bank. His house that he had been dying to get out of for years before all of this, and now it was only going to be worse.

Trying to get your feelings under control, you nodded. “Right. I’m, um, I’m gonna go see if I can catch up with him. I’ll try to track down Pope and Kie tomorrow.”

John B nodded. “Sure thing.”

Pulling him into another hug, you told him, “I’m so fucking glad you guys are home.”

He eased into the hug, squeezing you back for a moment. “Thank you.”

Without wasting another minute, you took off from the chateau back to your car and started towards JJ’s. You’d been stopping there on your rounds while everyone had been gone. You’d been stopping by the chateau too, on the off chance that they all appeared again and were just trying to lay low like the last time they dropped off the radar.

Practically jumping out of your car, you started making your way towards the front door. You saw the tape across it, but you also saw the way that the front door had been opened anyway. A heaviness settled in your chest as you realized that JJ had to come home after so many weeks away, to this. You’d been spending all of those weeks alone, but JJ had to come back to loneliness. That was an entirely different kind of pain.

Letting yourself in the house, you called out for him. “JJ?”

There was the sound of something clattering to the ground followed by the heavy footsteps that let you know that while a lot of things might have changed, JJ still hadn’t lost his boots. Any of the comfort that you found in that realization, however, was lost when JJ emerged from where his bedroom used to be. The lost look on his face broke your heart, but what made it worse was the fact that he tried to paint a smile on over it as he said your name.

“What’re you doing here?”

You wanted to step in closer to him, but it felt like your feet were glued to the floor. “I just, um, I wanted to come and see you.”

He held his arms out, the fake smile growing sadder by the second. “Here I am.”

Something about the sadness in his face got your feet to finally cooperate with the rest of you. Crossing the room in what felt like two long strides, you landed yourself right in front of him. “I missed you.”

“I—” his sentence was cut short for a moment as you wrapped him up in a hug. He settled into it, but you could feel the way that he was beginning to shake as he said, “I missed you too.”

The two of you stood like that for a long time, wrapped up in the middle of the dirty living room of Luke’s abandoned house. You were making up for lost time, all the days and nights that you’d spent worrying about him, about all of them. Every day that went by it felt less and less likely that you’d ever get the chance to hug JJ like this again. But he was here now, and you didn’t want to let him go.

JJ, on the other hand, was holding you tight in the hopes that if he held you tight enough, held you long enough, that the world around him would somehow change. As long as your arms were squeezing around his middle, and his eyes were shut tight as he buried his face into your shoulder, the sad reality of all that he had to come back to on the island wasn’t something that he had to deal with.

You could feel it as he started to shake more, could feel how he was trying desperately to hold back his tears. Running your hand up and down his back, you said, “You can talk to me, you know.”

That snapped him out of the sad but wishful state that he’d been in. Pulling away from you, he sniffled and shook his head, trying to blink his tears back into submission. “Talk? What’s,” he forced a laugh, “what’s there to talk about?”

“JJ—”

“No, no,” he waved you off, taking a step back, “I’m fine. Really. Why,” he let out a sad laugh as he held his arms out, gesturing to the room around you, “why wouldn’t I be good? I’m home! All those weeks away and I’m finally fucking home!”

You felt your bottom lip starting to quiver. “I’m sorry.”

Heat crept up the back of his neck—he could feel the anger threatening to roll over him. It wasn’t about you. None of this was your fault. But the longer he stood there, looking at you and the sad, sympathetic look in your eyes, the more he felt like he was going to take it out on you anyway. It wasn’t fair. But nothing about any of this really was.

“What do you have to be sorry for? I said I’m fine. I’m back,” he kicked an empty beer can to the side, “back in paradise.”

You knew that there was nothing to say that was going to soothe the pain he was feeling. Everyone else was coming home to things that were theirs, coming home to families of some kind. But not him. He had an empty, foreclosed house and that was it. John B had the chateau, Sarah had John B, Kiara had her parents, and Pope had his. Everyone had someone to lean on, something that was waiting to welcome them home. JJ had you, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t what he was looking for.

“You don’t gotta stay,” he said after a long stretch of silence. “I’m all good here, if you couldn’t tell.”

“I want to stay,” you told him, hoping to make him realize that he wasn’t as alone as he felt.

He scoffed. “No one wants to stay here. I don’t want to stay here, that’s for damn sure. Luke didn’t wanna stay here either! Hell, I didn’t even want to come back at all!”

The tears that were lingering at the edges of your eyes finally started to spill over. “JJ…”

“No, no,” he waved you off, “don’t do that. Don’t look at me like that, say my name like that.”

“I’m not—”

“What are you even doing here, anyway?”

Wiping at the tears on your face, you asked, “Is it not obvious?” You could tell by the look on his face when he opened his mouth that he was going to have another sarcastic comment for you, so you cut him off before he could start. “I’ve been worried sick about you for well over a month, JJ. You were missing. I, I was worried that you were dead.”

“Well,” he threw his hands up, “I’m not. I’m good. So you can—”

“You’re not good, JJ! Stop saying that!” You took a step towards him, erasing the distance that he’d tried to put there. “You’re not good. Nothing…nothing about this situation is good. I, I get that.”

You didn’t get it fully. But you were at least in a place where you could see it more than anyone else had been capable of. That’s why you were standing there with him while everyone else was gone. You were expecting JJ to throw it back in your face, though, the way that you couldn’t possibly understand it all. You braced yourself for a tirade, but it never came. The anger that was beginning to flood his eyes slowly started to drain, the sadness and loss creeping back in its stead. You saw the way he tried to keep his tears at bay as he shook his head at you, trying to figure out what to say next.

All you wanted to do was pull him out of that god forsaken house and never let him go back. Your mind was already racing, trying to come up with a plan for it all. But you also knew that the best plan in the world wasn’t going to matter if JJ didn’t agree to it. It all hinged on him being willing to let his guard down, let someone help.

“Please come stay with me,” you finally said.

He froze, clearly not expecting that to be the next thing you said. “What?”

“Come stay with me. At least for a little while, until we figure out what to do next.”

He shook his head. “No, no I can’t…you’re just…no. I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

He stepped back and started to pace. “Just because you feel bad, doesn’t mean—”

“This is just as much for me as it is for you,” you said, cutting him off.

It wasn’t a lie, either. You didn’t want JJ to be squatting in Luke’s house for a multitude of reasons. You knew that nothing good was going to come of that. However, you would’ve been lying if you tried to say that convincing him to stay with you and your family didn’t have some selfish ulterior motives to it. All those weeks of not knowing where he was, it would be nice to know that he was just down the hall.

He could see the sincerity in your eyes. Part of him knew that he wasn’t going to end up winning this argument, but another part of him wasn’t going to let him give in without a fight.

“What about your parents?”

You laughed and shook your head, wiping at the tears on your face. “I’ve been telling you for years, JJ, my parents actually like you.”

He never believed it when you said it. You didn’t exactly blame him—most people on the island didn’t like JJ simply because they knew his last name. That, and he had a hard time not feeding into the animosity of it all once he found out that people didn’t particularly trust him. But your parents hadn’t ever treated him poorly, hadn’t ever made him feel less-than. You knew that some of it came from pity, but it was better than them treating him poorly.

It'd been a long enough stretch of silence to allow him to think when you finally spoke up again. “Please?”

He hesitated for another moment longer, but then gave in with a nod. “Okay.” He wiped at the tears on his face. “Just, just until I figure out something else.”

Relief flooded through you as you nodded. “Of course.”

Stepping in, JJ wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, finally allowing himself to fall apart for a moment. “Thank you.”

You held him tight. “Of course.” Hooking your chin over his shoulder, you let your hand trail up and down his back. “I love you, you know.”

You felt the way he nodded as he kept you clung close to him. “I know.” He let out a sigh of relief. “I love you too.”

[kooki914]

What would you think about a Spade King rematch encounter, and how do you think it would go??? (I personally think he could use a rematch fight, it sounds like SO cool!!)

I agree!! It sounds dope as hell and it's something I've been sorta thinking about for my Kingdomrune AU.

Essentially, I think it'd be post-semi-redemption. Like, Spade begrudgingly has to accept that he can't thwart the heroes and (if) they didn't leave any Darkner behind, he aids them in what little ways he can. The rematch would be in a "I'm totally beating you up to make you stronger" kind of context. Like he still doesn't like you and is using the excuse of "helping" to take his anger out. This is what I'm planning to use for the aforementioned AU, (specifically Spade teaming up with the other suit kings in order to offer a formidable challenge to help you hone your combat skills), HOWEVER.

There's also a considerable... consistency issue in trying to re-introduce him as a fight, optional or not (which is why I added the other suit kings into it, actually). Because Spade King is kind of really weak, mostly on account of the fact that he's the First and Simplest boss. If Queen is anything to go off of, it seems all bosses after Spade are going to have at least Some kind of gimmick that makes them unique and intimidating, which means that Spade, in turn, will just... seem kind of basic.

Like, on a lore level, I kind of vibe with that, because he's the twisted up and "gone too far" embodiment of Lawful Evil, it makes sense that the guy who kinda just waited patiently for the heroes to march onto his doorstep would do everything like an old-school villain would. But... the bosses are only going to get progressively more difficult with each chapter, so the protagonists will also get their stats buffed, and if Spade comes back the exact same as in chapter 1, he's gonna get fuckin bulldozed!

I don't think he should be on par with Jevil or anything, and god I REALLY don't want another mecha fight a-la Queen's weird second phase, but there's gotta be Something to explain why he was such a wimp in chapter 1 if he EVER comes back for a proper rematch down the line. One route to take is retroactive, essentially find a way to explain how he was underpowered when he fought the kids originally (kind of like how Susie was constantly established as being underpowered due to hunger in chapter 1, as a means to explain why she's comparably weaker than someone like fuckin. Berdly.) On the OTHER hand. We could give him a power UP.

I think it would be fun as hell if he came back with a vengeance. Like a real, spite-fueled, "I'm going to fuck up your life" kind of vengeance. Either as retribution for some perceived slight against Darkner kind (snowgrave, maybe? but that seems a bit over the top and specific imo), OR, due to the Knight getting thwarted/defeated/unmasked (as the knight is undoubtedly a Lightner, finding that out might send Spade into a rage). It's a little less interesting on a characterisation level because it'd kind of flatten his already limited range of traits he's exhibited, BUT it would make for a very interesting fight, both through gameplay and through the consequences of it.

Cause like, coming back with even more vitriol and hatred than last time would imply something REALLY bad's going on with him. It was confirmed that the fountains somewhat *change* the monarchs they influence, so to get the same, or even WORSE behavior out of Spade WITHOUT his fountain...? It'd be hell to deal with. I'm not sure how redeeming Spade would even work after that, if it'd even be possible.

Getting him to making peace with the Knight, or making Spade reevaluate his decisions in a more meaningful way? Making him realize he's been hurting his darling son more than anyone else? It *could* work, but it could just as well backfire if he's been shaken into the same fervor as when he was under the influence of a fountain, without anything to even ground him anymore. So, you gotta beat him up again, but... What do you do after that? If he was given chance after chance to change and learn and grow and simply... refused to?

... On the OTHER hand, in the "helping you get stronger" scenario, redemption is kind of a given. You trust this asshole enough to Not Kill You if given the chance to (aka if he beats you), which means beforehand he must've somehow earned that trust. Either it's by being just barely nice enough to get a passing grade from the local Fluffy Boy to let him out of Dad Jail, OR by earning LANCER's forgiveness specifically, earning him a much better reputation with the rest of the fun gang as well (though Susie's gonna be hard to convince).

Really, he'd need to change in at least SOME way for him to be a viable "lighthearted foe" for you to take on in the Dojo, but I hope it won't be at the expense of his existing character. There's a fine line to walk between making someone redeemed naturally or unnaturally, and while Undertale had a lot of good redemption stories, Deltarune's handling of Darkners in chapter 2 kind of leaves me... uneasy at the prospect of a full and proper redemption for Spade. Hence why I call it a semi-redemption at the beginning of this unreasonably long post, I think it's the best possible scenario.

It's either "I don't really trust this guy but I wanna get better at fighting and beating up his former lackeys only goes so far", OR, "he's actually reached the point of criticality and there's no coming after this fight, let's take him out with a bang".

[20dollarlolita]

Did you know that sometimes, you do something totally normal in the tumblr editor, something that you could accidentally do very easily, and it decides to eat your entire post? It just deleted over an hour of work? Did you know that it does that?

Isn't that swell?

THE RANDOM LOLITA 30 DAY CHALLENGE, DAY 10: 10 THINGS YOU CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT IN LOLITA.

We're doing a challenge from 2011 and we're doing it very slowly. We're actually doing it even slower, because we wrote half of this post, hit ctrl+z, and tumblr just fucking deleted it with no way to get it back. Glorious. 10/10, fucking hate it.

This challenge number was a little weird for me. I've been doing lolita since 2011, and the answers that I would have given in 2011 are probably very different than the ones I'm giving in 2023. Having that framing makes me feel very nostalgic.

Let's get into it. If tumblr eats this again, I will be throwing the entire website out the door.

Number 1) A comfortable petticoat that stays the right shape, and that I don't have to worry about crushing.

Back in my early days, one of the first things that I bought for lolita fashion was a real petticoat. One of the most critical elements of a lolita fashion look is the shape, and having a foundation that gave me the right shape helped things that I was making look a lot more like real lolita.

(Early 2012)

My first ever petticoat, which is under the red dress, was made out of muslin and some walmart tulle. I believe it used this tutorial. While that dress wasn't ever going to look really lolita super well, the petticoat issue sure isn't helping.

These days I have a Wunderwelt petticoat that I got in 2016, and it's so very enjoyable to have a petticoat where the only concern is that it might be too big for a dress. I love how little work it takes to add the proper shape to a coord.

Number 2) Definitely lolita shoes.

When I wear lolita out and about, I've noticed that one of the things that changes stranger's reactions is the shoes. If I've got some distinctly lolita shoes, like RHS, people tend to ask if it's a fashion. If I'm wearing lolitable shoes that could also work in a non-lolita outfit, I get asked what costume I'm wearing.

(Late 2013)

Baby lolita me had a pair of black Mary Jane pumps from Target, and those were my lolita shoes for several months. In my first ever Bodyline order, I got some brown tea parties, and about a year later I bought these pink RHS and white flats.

And that was it. That was what I owned for lolita shoes from 2013 to 2016. Coords were black, brown, pink, white, or else I wore shoes that didn't match. Occasionally I'd go crazy and get some short boots into the mix, but this was my lolita shoe collection.

I have at least four tutorials in this blog about how to fix shoes, because I don't let my shoes die until they're absolutely dead and gone. Those brown tea parties are now painted gold and have been turned into very dangerous roller skates. I had to take a five-ish mile offroad hike in the white ones, which destroyed the bottoms as well as permanently staining the ribbon frill brown. These are, to this day, the only lolita shoes that I've ever thrown away. The other two pairs of shoes I still have.

My closet doesn't look like a BTSSB show room because I have to keep the rubbermaid tub of skulls somewhere, and the closet seems the best place.

In the seven years since I started buying lolita shoes again, I've collected several pairs. A lot of these pairs were in the $5-$30 price range, and none of them have been disposed of. This is just seven years of collecting shoes.

Number 3) Little details that are fast to add to a coord.

So, TJ Maxx sells these little clip on ribbon bows in their baby department, and they're my new favorite fast and easy accessory. They can go in your hair. They can go on your dress. They can go on your shoes. It's wonderful.

I've said a whole lot that making a lolita coord is about adding all the details that you think you should add, and then adding 3-5 more details. It's very easy to underestimate how detailed a handmade lolita piece should be.

Something that I didn't fully appreciate until recently, at least not to the extent that I currently appreciate it, is how much your overall coordinate can benefit from the same thing. If you CAN throw on some little extra bows and bracelets, it generally looks better if you do that.

I have very small wrists (both wrists together cannot hold a 4-week old kitten) and jingling loose bracelets often drive me nuts. I finally found out that stretch bracelets meant for kids will fit on my wrists, won't jinglejangle, and also won't pinch. As a bonus, they're like $1 for a 2-pack, so I went a little bit nuts stocking up on them.

I've got a couple of tutorials on making your own cheap, small details that you can just plop onto as many coords as you'd like.

Number 4) Sewing machine.

(Feb 2011)

My first lolita dress was handmade. Making my own garments and accessories has always been an important part of this fashion for me. I don't have as much to say about this, because it's just so constantly present in everything that I do.

I've learned about lolita fashion by sewing it, and I've learned about sewing by sewing lolita fashion.

(October 2010)

I made my first lolita dress on a pretty basic sewing machine (the precursor to the Janome 3160QDC). I've since sideways-graded to a really basic 80's Singer. Despite having a very fancy embroidery machine, I don't sew on it. My last service said I've done 5 hours of sewing and 170 hours of embroidery on that machine. I know what I need, and I have what I need.

Number 5) Five Below's $5 bike shorts

They're $5. They come in every color.

Your tights falling down? Bike shorts. Your bloomers pretty annoying to wash and so you want to keep them off your skin to avoid having to wash our sweat stains? Your car a little bit funky and you might need to lie down on the ground to change your tire? Bike shorts. Little old lady in a wheelchair might pick up your skirt to see if you're wearing pantaloons? and you're not wearing pantaloons? You're never going to be more glad that you have bike shorts.

When I was new to lolita and like 12 years stupider than I now am, I had smaller petticoats, and always figured that high-coverage tights and standard underoos were modesty enough, with bloomers being necessary for coords with socks. Get a fuller petticoat, and you stop feeling like that. Bike shorts at Target were like $15 a pair, because they're designed to be comfortable to wear when you're riding a bike. I'm not riding a bike. I'm walking through walmart to buy some milk. I'm not going fast because I have 5" of fake wood glued to the bottom of my foot. I don't need your comfort features. I need $5 bike shorts.

These have pockets in them so that you can stash emergency money or a fortune you got from Panda Express in 2020 that says, "Be ready to take an important journey soon," on it.

Yes, the pantaloons thing happened to me, and I actually was wearing bloomers. Yes, the woman pushing the tiny old lady in the wheelchair clearly had never been more embarrassed in her life.

Number 6) Men's undershirts.

Call it a singlet, call it an a-shirt, please don't call it a wifebeater. These things are made of a ribbed knit that stretches to accommodate boobs and curves very well. They're meant to be washed the heck out of. I can't throw my dresses into the washing machine on the crazy hard cycle and throw them in a hot dryer and figure whatever happens happens, but these things are THREE. DOLLARS. EACH. A whole lot of not perfect things can be forgiven when the under shirt is $3.

The neck doesn't work on OPs or some blouses, but they're also three dollars each, so I wear them any time I can. Women's undershirts are $12-18 EACH so I can't just buy 30 of them. If you want some bonus armpit protections, men's t-shirt undershirts are only like $5 each.

Number 7) Oxiclean.

A lot of lolita fashion is about our super fancy, super detailed prints. These are prints that look lovely when you're up close to them, so it's important to not have dingy and dirty and faded prints, especially when you paid good money for that printing. All hail Oxiclean.

I went to go take a picture of the jumbo boxes of oxiclean that I buy, but it looks like someone threw the box on the ground and then went to lie in her bed like nothing bad happened. (She wasn't hurt and I cleaned it up so she couldn't get it on her paws and lick it).

Also yes, my cat has her own little personal heater. It turns off if it's tipped over, so she will turn it off whenever she gets too hot.

Number 8) Parasols.

First of all, it turns out that finding offbrand parasols for lolita is a super cool challenge. They're not very common, so when you do find one, it feels like a big accomplishment.

I love parasols for a lot of reasons. I was going to get coffee with a friend, and someone was acting kind of strangely outside the shop. I liked that I had something in my hands to potentially use to keep that person away from me if they decided to approach me way too quickly. My doctor and I thought for a while that I had a condition where if I went in the sun, my skin attacked my internal organs, so I started carrying umbrellas for that. It's very sunny where I live. Before I lived here, I lived where it was very rainy, and having a nice couple of ruffled RainStoppers was good to have on hand.

(May 2011 | Sept 2013) I've actually collected parasols for longer than I've really been into lolita. Pic on the left was pre-lolita times. I absolutely loved that parasol and took it everywhere that I could. Pic on the right is the earliest picture I could find of my white RainStoppers that I got at Target, which I still have somewhere in my car. Mostly that pic is there because of my cats. Also the pictures just felt like a nice weird little bit of symmetry.

Anyway, when someone's taking a pic of you without asking, you can block it with your parasol. My relationship with parasols in lolita is complicated, because I feel like I shouldn't need to have a weapon with me, but here we are.

Number 9) All the info that baby me chronicled. Everything I've learned and everything that I didn't used to know. I have so much fun looking at my old cringe coords and all of the things I did that I know are wrong now. I really miss the way I fearlessly tried things out and the rate at which I churned out new pieces. There's some pieces that I don't have anymore and I miss those things. I used to have some old school AP socks that I have no clue where they are. Seeing the way I used to have my bedroom set up so that I'd still have space to sew. Looking at the dates on pictures and thinking about what I was doing back then. Most of these pictures are from back when cell phone cameras were awful, and I've had to edit all of them to get better exposure before putting them up. There's memories I have of us all carrying around digital cameras to save things, because cell phones just weren't there yet (also some of us didn't have pix messaging plans and had to pay 25 cents per picture to get them to our computers). I looked at the bottom of my pink RHS the other day and the tread's all the way worn off. That's so interesting to me, that I've worn pink-shoe lolita enough that I completely wore the tread off.

Jan 1, 2014 "Sometimes the best thing ever is to walk into Starbucks and watch a five year old’s eyes go as wide as they can, point at you, and say loudly “Mom, is that a real person?” Sometimes the best part is watching the mom go BEET red."

I remember that event so specifically. It was one of the first times I'd actually worn the head-eating bow in public. It took me several years to warm up to the head-eaters. I remember exactly what the mom and the kid looked like, but also until I read this post, I'd completely forgotten about this whole incident.

Number 10)

This blog, and the people who read it, interact with it, comment on it.

I really cannot explain how amazing this community is to me. I think the first time I saw someone link someone else a tutorial I made was just a couple of years ago. It was so exciting. Every time i meet someone who is afraid to get into lolita fashion due to the expense, and I'm able to tell them that there's a whole COMMUNITY of people who want to do lolita for less, it's amazing. I started this blog because I felt like I could make myself some accessories for not a lot of money, and I just needed the motivation to do it. But now it's so much better than that. I'm still making things for me. I make things I want and things that I'll use and things that I can make. But I'm also making them for other people, who also need the same kind of help. I teach myself new things so that I can answer questions I've been asked. Every time I have to research an answer for someone, that person has helped me grow.

It's just amazing. Thank you.

[cebwrites]

oc x canon word count: 0.7k

They've always been in each other's periphery, finding reasons to pick fights or make fun - pushing and pulling one another like the tides. But I like to think of two specific moments where KakaHyou respectively had their, Oh shit I'm in love, realizations.

Hyou's was a little bit after they lost their canine companion.

Wounds were still fresh and they were still devastated, suffice it to say Hyou struggled to keep as usual while he grieved. The Third would have liked to give them time to process it but Konoha was short-staffed and needed every available hand to pitch in - or so he said.

Hyou was being berated by their ad hoc team leader for his missteps; one could say he looked to be on the verge of tears, but with how bloodshot their eyes already were from grieving Haiiro's passing, it didn't make much of a difference. Frankly, Kakashi thought they looked numb.

The man put in charge spared nothing, pointing out that they were all tired and frustrated from being away from home for so long, but that was no excuse to lag behind. The fourth member in their three-man cell hesitantly brought up Hyou's ninken in an attempt to potentially soften the blows, maybe appeal to their captain's empty because it was frankly hard to watch.

It didn't help. If anything, he got more vicious once they got to a neighboring camp with other comrades, almost like he wanted more of an audience as he chewed them out for all to see. Hyou was miserable. They wanted to go home. They wanted Haiiro.

The final straw was when their temporary captain spat that they should hurry up and get over it already, it was just a dumb dog.

Kakashi punched him out cold before Hyou could lunge at the man themself. Everyone watched stun in awe as that captain's cheek started to swell with red blood vessels. Kakashi's only response was a mocking, "sorry, thought there was a bug on you."

Hyou could only laugh at the absurdity, between tears of joy? Relief? They didn't know. What they did know was that they could hear their heart hammering in their ears and a tightness in their chest they hadn't felt in a while.

Kakashi was sent to the slammer once they returned to the village for assaulting his superior and suspended for three days but overall got a pretty light sentence; couldn't have one of Konoha's best shinobi wasting time in a jail cell while vital missions had to be carried.

Kakashi was met with Hyou waiting for him upon his release offering a free lunch, it was the least they could do for their little hero.

Kakashi's oh shit moment happened during a fever.

Bundled up in at least three layers of blankets and so delirious he hardly recognized Pakkun looming over his sweltering face. Gai dropped by periodically throughout the week and so did Genma, the latter mostly to make sure Hyou wasn't overworking themself but there was a little concern for the sick comrade in question. He brought pumpkin broth Kakashi had to choke down with a sore throat.

The bastard almost seemed smug about it, but Genma also helped wash the dishes and clean up while he was there so Kakashi didn't complain. Or at least he thought he didn't, his memory was foggy. God knows what else he said like that.

When Kakashi came out of his illness-induced fugue state, it was late. Everyone who'd visited throughout the week had gone home except for Hyou, asleep at his bedside, who'd been the one to primarily babysit him while he was out of his mind fighting off germs in his blood stream.

Carefully, he shifts out of bed without waking his companion from their slumber. Trained silent footsteps padding out of the room to inspect the rest of his apartment. Not a thing was out of place, kept to the controlled messiness that it always ways, if not a little tidier. No doubt there was a disagreement between Hyou and Gai not to touch anything. He smiled at the thought.

Kakashi returned with a clean, germ-free blanket for Hyou, brushing Hyou's bangs out of their face and disturbing an otherwise peaceful expression when they unconsciously scrunched their nose up at the intrusion. It might be rude, but Kakashi thinks to himself that they looked better with a scowl; felt more natural.

Sitting at the edge of his own bed, watching them get the much deserved rest they needed, Kakashi couldn't help but think about the ways he'd repay their kindness for the rest of their lives. Together.

[woolmasterleel]

Hello! You talked about Romirr in regards to the post about ascending to godhood being dehumanizing.... I'm curious, can you elaborate more about how it affects him and his feelings about going through that when he realizes it (if he does at all)? 👀

Absolutely!! This'll be a lot of get comfy (✿◕‿◕✿)

So about Romirr... Ignoring his obvious issues (his unrealistic beliefs and how he treats Pandora), he was a really good king. He'd listen to his people, he kept them safe, people liked him, and he cared for them. Until someone tried to pursue the art of magics, then he would have them exiled or executed. Romirr becoming an angel seems very out of character for him, given his constant rejection of the deities and the idea of becoming one, however him later becoming Mirror is meant to show how even he fails to stand for his beliefs. When he is menaced by what he thinks is a demon (it was Galvarium), he goes into hiding and prays to the angels. When he is faced with an actual demon threatening to kill him, he shrieks to the heavens, because he doesn't know what else to do.

Upon becoming an angel, Romirr, literally and metaphorically, dies. Mirror can be argued as not even being a person, rather a shell holding Romirr's absurd belief. This is why he is so cold and emotionless, why everything he does is to prove that Romirr was right- That humans do not need angels or demons, that they have their own power and are able to reach a higher existence without being affiliated with what he sees as dehumanizing magic. He is partly right, choosing to become an angel or demon after passing does remove one's humanity to some extent, but should the individual choose, they do not need to become a holier-than-thou being, a monstrous entity, etc etc. They can continue to be themselves.

I feel like I should make it clear that Mirror does not enjoy being an angel at all. Hence why he hardly uses any of his magic despite having powerful abilities. During the Rapid Corpus arc, he is somewhat happy to be taken to Limbo. At least then he is no longer an angel.

Throughout out the story, you can see Mirror becoming less and less put together. Failure after failure, the people who initially stood by him beginning to reject him, all of it adding up and leading him to snap and attempt to kill Alice when she was a child. But that was a distraction, what he really wanted was to get his hands on Kisaki, given that he was the reason for his biggest failure. The disease, it's creation, had allowed him to gather an impressive group of loyal supporters. Whatever science he announced that they would pursue, they would follow. He was so close to starting research on what would later become the Pseudo Humans... then all of it come crashing down when Kisaki (or mostly Mad Rabbit) destroyed their facilities. Any surviving researchers where told the truth of what Mirror was attempting, which, unsurprisingly, turned them against him. Mirror's breakdown started the arc before Rapid Corpus, when Yugami finally snapped and rejected his control, when Rukka, his lover at the time, turned his back and told him to get out. Any feelings of love or sympathy he had was for sure gone, so when Kisaki ruined everything for him, he could only react with anger. He didn't know anything else.

Him taking Alice hostage in order to kill Kisaki really shows how far gone he is, how dehumanized he's become. He has no morals, but more importantly, he lost his fear.

Mirror was absolutely horrified, and I cannot emphasize that enough, by Limbo and Galvarium's existence. He'd never show it though. So his move to try and kill Kisaki himself, knowing that it would send him to Limbo, shows he broken he is. On top of that, Mirror actively uses the knowledge of Limbo to try and scare Kisaki. Obviously this doesn't work. Side note so this makes more sense, Mirror did not know that Kisaki was a partial LAE. He assumed he was a demon, given that he looked like one, and because of his blue hair, Mirror also assumed he didn't know about Limbo.

When Galvarium shows up to take Mirror to Limbo anyway, Mirror does attempt to run, however when he is caught (which was very easily), he hardly reacts. He doesn't speak, he doesn't blink, he doesn't move. He shuts down.

It's when he comes a Limbo-Altered Entity that Mirror becomes less of a character/person, and more of a concept. Until the Gates of Limbo are opened, Mirror does nothing but stay in one place. When speaking now, Mirror doesn't use "I" or "me", now it is "us", "we", but sometimes "you". The final form of Romirr Kagami is called "Truth of his World" because at that point his presence is merely a manifestation of what Romirr wanted the world to be. The world at that point in the story is, in some way, what he wanted. There where humans, albeit fake humans, who could reach deity status without the use of magics. Truth of His World isn't Romirr Kagami, it is an idea, the concept of a better world he had all those years ago.

Romirr never noticed himself losing his grip on humanity. He promised himself he would never forget who he is, he vowed to continue to care and nurture mankind. He believed what he was doing was for the benefit of humans. Obviously, he lost sight of that.

Wowee I didn't mean to write so much hahaha oops! Romirr/Mirror is meant to be the big-bad, hated character of IV, but that doesn't take away from how much I love him! Writing his character to go from someone who was actually very lovable, to something so horrid is really fun, and I am super proud of him! o(*°▽°*)o

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons Bonus Chapter: Aemma Alone

This bonus chapter focuses on Aemma shortly after the disappearance of her mother and how she coped after that unfortunate night when she was still a toddler, while also showing the bonds she formed with the various characters and adding some depth to said characters (even the ones whom some feel may not deserve it).

Aemma groaned as the sunlight peaked through the window and shined on her face. She turned around and opened her eyes, stretching as she did so. She sat up on her bed, rubbing her eyes, looking around as she felt what had happened was nothing more then a dream. Or more like a nightmare.

She remembered her mother was in it as well as her father...along with her uncle Jaskier and some other figures she didn't recognize. Aemma saw the door open as one of the nursemaids came in, "Good morning princess," the maid greets with a small smile, "ready to start the day?" Aemma, barely past the age of three at this point in time, didn't quite notice the trepidation in her nurse's tone of voice. "I want to see mama," she simply says with childlike innocence.

The nursemaid said nothing as she helped the princess out of bed and guided her to get dressed. "Where's mama?" Aemma asked again, feeling confused. "I'm...afraid your mother is not here right now princess," the maid tells her as she gets Aemma's clothes on. "Where is mama?" Aemma asks again, and again the nurse did not answer.

Having barely just been put into her dress, Aemma breaks free and runs out of the room while the maid rushes after her, "princess, come back!"

"Mama!" Aemma calls out as she runs through the keep, "Mama, where are you?!"

"Mama!"

It felt forever for Aemma as she continued running, losing sight of her nursemaid, and checking every nook and cranny for her lost mother. She was wondering if she dreamed she had last night was actually real. Or was it a dream that had predicted the future and had come true.

"Mama?" Aemma calls out again, looking around in case she missed her. Not looking where she was going, she bumped into a pair of legs. Aemma looked up to see Otto Hightower staring down at her. "Princess Aemma?" Otto addresses the young girl, "What...are you doing here at this time of day?" "I'm looking for my mama," Aemma tells the man, "where is mama?"

Otto wasn't sure what to say. Aemma was just a girl, a child who had only just left infant-hood not much sooner then his grandson had. The man was there that night when the Lady of Larks and her brother had run off with the witcher and that...witch he supposed, the one who had cast that spell that had left everyone else in the Throne Room frozen in time if only for a short while. Running off and blatantly abandoning her only child, or at least that's what Prince Daemon claimed. It was a claim, however that even Otto had a hard time believing, after having witnessed firsthand how much the mother of the prince's child loved Aemma, much so that she initially had left everything behind and gave up her standing with the royal family if it meant raising Aemma in what she deemed a more suitable environment.

"Where is mama?" Aemma asks the Hand once more. Otto still didn't know what to say, but he knew the girl couldn't be kept in the shadows forever on this matter; sooner or later, she was going to have to learn that her mother was no longer in the Red Keep, or King's Landing, or anywhere in Westeros for all he knew. Otto leaned down slightly to address the young girl, "your mother, princess...I'm afraid she can't be with you any longer." "Why?" Aemma asks, feeling confused, "when will she come back?"

Otto merely shakes his head, not knowing what he could say without it being a lie or an empty promise. Aemma looked down to the ground, tears starting to fall, now realizing that her nightmare had been real; her mother was gone, and she did not know if she would ever return. Otto sighed a bit, feeling some level of sympathy for the young girl; it brought him back to the time when his own wife had passed. It was the same look and the same tears he had in seen in his own daughter when that day came; it reminded him of how much Alicent had mourned for the loss of her mother and how much time she spent in the Sept in prayer in hopes of being with her mother once again. 

Even though he was moved by these emotions, Otto also couldn't help but see an opportunity in what was considered an unfortunate event in Aemma's eyes.  Seeing how Viserys and Daemon had struck an agreement to wed Aemma to Aegon once the two came of age, in Otto's mind, this also meant the young princess would some day stand by his grandson's side as the new queen of Westeros.  Without her mother's influence, and also considering how young Aemma was, the girl was in a position to be molded and shape by external forces surrounding her. If Otto could plan out his moves, if he could execute them in a way that side steps Daemon, he could step in and mold Aemma into whom he believed would be a suitable queen for the realm.

By suitable, he was thinking as one who would do well to influence the future king to rule the realm as the Hand saw fit, and one who would look favorably on House Hightower.

Otto knelt down, placing a hand on Aemma's shoulder as the girl continued to sob, "dry those tears," he says, wiping her eyes, "they will not bring your mother back. You must remain strong, princess, she would not want to see you like this when she does return." Aemma sniffled some and nodded, having a sliver of hope that her mother would come back to her and to her father. 

"Come," he says, getting back on his feet, "let us go visit your cousin. He surely must be breaking his fast by now." 

Otto led Aemma to the nursery where young Aegon was sitting on his mother's lap and eating porridge with a cup of juice on the side. Alicent meanwhile held Aegon to her with one arm while the other she used to break her own fast with pieces of fruit along with a cup of tea. She gives her son a kiss on the head here and there while Aegon tried to figure how to eat his meal with a spoon instead of his hands. He was getting better at it, but as a toddler it was still a work in progress.

Alicent looked up when the doors open and saw her father guide Aemma into the room, "look Aegon, it's your grandsire," she speaks to the young prince, leaning close, "and your future wife."  Aegon looked over to where Aemma and Otto where. He cooed and babbled, reaching out to Aemma, hands sticky from the porridge. Otto led Aemma to the table and helped her up, "I believe the princess could use some company with the prince," he informs the queen, "it would appear she still grieves the loss of her mother."

Alicent looked over to indeed see the princess still had red eyes that were evidence of the tears she shed. She could empathize, knowing what that feeling was like. Alicent was still sleeping the night before, having only heard the news from her husband of what had become of the Lady of Larks. Worth noting she heard Viserys' version of events which involved the Lady Lark confessing her love to the golden eyed mutant that had been hiding in King's Landing waiting to take his lover and her daughter away to the Continent, only to have their plans partially thwarted when Daemon managed to 'rescue' Aemma at the very last moment.

For all Alicent knew, Aemma had no idea where her mother was, or if she was wondering if her mother was ever going to come back. "Yes, that would be most wise," Alicent agrees, helping Aegon eat his food some more, "this must be a very difficult time for you, princess." Aemma only look up to Alicent and then back to Otto, already taking to heart what the man had told her. She looks down, staring at the table, "mama will come back," she says in a small voice.

Alicent gave a small, sad smile in return, not sure if that was ever going to happen at this point. Since the Lady of Lark's disappearance, she heard Daemon had been up in arms demanding to be put in charge of the City Watch again with hopes of using the gold cloaks to help begin a manhunt for all over the Seven Kingdoms to look for the mother of his child and to put an end to the man who stole her away from the keep. And if, in fact, the three where actually on the Continent or Skellige or wherever in that region, Daemon had also requested, no demanded, to place a bounty on the White Wolf with a reward of 1000 dragons for the witcher's white haired head as evidence...or his eyes...or his medallion. Any proof to ensure the deed was done.

It all seemed extreme, but Alicent felt she could understand somewhat, given the parental extinct to protect one's children. She would do anything to make sure her own were safe and sound.

For now, Alicent gestured for a nursemaid to take Aegon and have him cleaned up while she took Aemma into her lap, "I'm sure she will return, little princess," she tries to assure, which Aemma gave the queen a small frown, "she loved you very much," Alicent tells her, giving Aemma a small kiss on the head, "not even an ocean could her apart from her own child, just as one could not keep me from my own children. You will be my good daughter one day, Aemma, do you know that?" 

Aemma gave Alicent another confused look, "you're going to be my mama?" Alicent nods, "If you wish, I can be your mother for the time being. You can be a big sister to Aegon and Helaena. Would you like that, sweet princess?"

Aemma gave Alicent a small smile and nodded. Alicent smiled back.

Otto gave a small, and slight sly smile at the interaction between his daughter and the little girl she held in her arms. Already the seeds were being planted in the princess's mind. Now if only the Hand could somehow manage to isolate the princess from her father, it would be icing on the lemon cake.

"Where is papa?" Aemma asks. Right on cue, the doors open and the aforementioned Rogue Prince walked in, scowling somewhat when he saw Otto sitting at the breakfast table and Aemma sitting on Alicent's lap. Otto turned his gaze to Daemon, scowling back like he was daring the prince to make a scene. "Papa! Papa!" Aemma squeals in excitement, wriggling out Alicent's lap so she could eagerly run to her father.

Daemon knelt down and let his daughter run into his arms, and he pulled her up giving her a bear hug, "my little dragon," he says, giving the princess a kiss on her head. "Did you find mama yet?" Aemma asks, feeling hopeful that her father had rescued her mother from the bad people who took her away. "*sigh,* I'm afraid not, princess," Daemon tells her, giving a small and sad smile, "worry not, little love, I will not stop looking for her."

As Aemma continued hugging him, Daemon looked over to see the awkward gazes from Otto and Alicent, "let's take you to the dragon pit," he suggests to his daughter, "I am certain Cirillia is eager to bond with her rider."

Watching the prince and his daughter take leave, Otto began to spin some ideas in his mind on how he could separate the father and daughter duo. It was certain Daemon will spin his version of last night's events to his daughter; contradicting such a story now would only add fuel to the fire that would risk burning Otto's relationship with the king along with alienating Aemma. He may need to put out some extra feelers in that little spy network operating in the bowels of King's Landing to keep an extra eye out on the prince. It may have been some years since Daemon left for the Stepstones, but the man was still known in the city and the Red Keep as the Lord of Flea Bottom; surely, there must be some dirt Daemon has further contributed to that title since returning. 

Meanwhile Daemon carried Aemma through the Holdfast and outside where a wheelhouse was waiting to take the both of them to the dragon pit.

"When is mama coming home?" Aemma asks once inside, looking up at her father once again. Daemon said nothing for a moment, merely stroking his daughter's hair, "I can't say for certain," Daemon admits to her. "I miss her," Aemma says. "So do I, Aemma, so do I," Daemon nods in understanding.

Aemma nods, leaning into her father's chest and resting there as he continued to hold her.

Daemon took a moment to contemplate silently on the events of last night. Internally he was angry; angry at his brother for denying his demands for retribution, angry at the Hand for trying to wedge himself into Aemma's life, angry at the White Wolf and that mysterious sorceress bitch for taking the mother of his child away...but most of all he was angry at the Lady of Larks. Angry at her for spurning his love and all he had provided for her, for spurning the life he had planted inside her, and for killing the Septon who married the two of them in cold blood, essentially nullifying their secret wedding that may as well have never happened.

Daemon was still not sure how he was able to break the witches spell that had him and the others frozen in place that night. Maybe it was his Valyrian blood, maybe it was pure rage, or maybe both. One thing was certain was that no way in any of the Seven Hells was Daemon about to let that ungrateful woman take his child away from him again.

In truth, Daemon still harbored anger with the Lady of Larks from leaving when Aemma was still in her womb. She should've tried to seek him out in Dragonstone the moment she found out. He would've taken responsibility, he thought to himself, he would've protected her, married her, legitimized their daughter. He would protected Aemma and when she came of age, he would've found her a suitable husband that would treat her with the respect she deserved. Now that he thought about it, if Daemon had been given the chance to be there when his daughter was born, he would've given her a different name. He had a thought up a few: Visenya had been one come to mind, as did Saera, Rhaella, and Daenys. The top name Daemon thinks he would've ultimately chosen was Alyssa after his late mother; Viserys always did say Daemon was their mother's favorite, though in truth, Daemon didn't have too many memories of her given he was fairly young when she died in the child-bed along with the son she bore. He did though have vague memories of princess Alyssa taking him out flying on her dragon Meleys, the Red Queen, whom was currently bonded to his cousin Rhaenys.  

Yes, that name would've been the more suited. At this moment Daemon was wondering if he could subtly change it now; Alyssa did kind of sound like Aemma, maybe it could work.  But on the other hand, the fact Aemma was given the name she had most certainly played a part in the king declaring her a true born Targaryen. No...his daughter's name would have stick now.

As they got closer to the dragon pit, Daemon roused his little girl from her restful state. He could only imagine the gleeful look on Aemma's face that would appear the moment she saw her dragon. It would be temporary, lasting only until they left and Aemma would be back to wondering when her mother would return.

Daemon promised he would do everything he could to find the Lady Lark...but he never promised she would be brought back alive this time around.

Cruel as it sounds, and is, Daemon's rage towards the woman who ended up spurning him and all he had to offer was not a rage that could easily be quelled with any punishment he could think of. The Lady of Larks had made her choice, he thought...if he couldn't have her then no one else will...

Especially not that sterile, white haired mutant bastard.

Bonus Masterlist

[callipraxia]

Writings from 3am

As the title indicates...sometime in the night, I got up, feeling compelled to write out a little scene that doesn't have a proper story to go with it. It's minimally edited for coherency here. If you haven't read my fic Interproximal Gradations (third in the For Want of a Jailbreak trilogy) on Ao3, then none of this will make any sense whatsoever, as Quattro and Stan are referring to events from the last three or four chapters of that story; specifically, this occurs sometime after the end of chapter 26, which itself takes place after a ten-year time skip. It...probably won't make that much sense even with that context in mind, to be honest, but it'll make marginally more sense than it would without said context.

All clear as mud? Great. Here's the thing:

Stan sat alone at the kitchen table, smoking a cigar and laying out cards for a game of solitaire. He didn’t look up when Quattro – carefully; he hadn’t yet gotten around to repairs to his suit since the shootout with the feds – sat down, but he did speak.

“No,” he said.

“No, what?”

“No, there’s nothing significant about me playing solitaire right after my brother’s funeral.”

Quattro nodded slowly. “Right,” he said, not bothering to attempt to sound sincere. He remembered the day his brother had died, and what he’d said after he’d finally been forced to accept the reality of the situation, at least as well as Stan did, if not better: I guess I should pick a different name now, huh? Mine doesn’t really make any sense anymore. I guess I’m just Solo. He would bet his best wig that the reference was deliberate on Stan's part. "Sure there isn’t.”

Seconds passed, and the sound of the kitchen clock ticking them away was the only thing that interrupted the silence.

"How's the leg?" Stan asked finally.

"A few minutes at the auto shop and it'll be fine." Quattro shrugged. "I've told you, I don't really feel things anymore. I'm not sure if I would even if I took off my suit...maybe. Who knows." Half his trouble had been that it had been so long since he'd consciously felt anything that the impact had thrown him for a loop; before that, he had honestly thought he no longer sensed contact with his person ‘naturally’ at all. He had no intention of taking his suit off just to test the limits of his probably-atrophied sense of touch, though. Instead, he cleared his throat and added, “you know I’m going to kill him, if I ever get the chance."

Stan grunted in acknowledgment, showing no signs he found this shift in topic at all strange. “Know you’re gonna try,” he conceded.

Quattro nodded and thought he might have smiled, bitterly, behind his mask. “Because we both also know you’re going to try to stop me.”

“Yep.”

“Even though it’s his fault we just buried the last family either of us has besides each other.”

“No we didn't. Mabel’s still out there, somewhere, and I’ve heard you call Soos your brother with my own ears.” Stan pointed to one of the ears in question to illustrate, as if Quattro could have possibly missed them. “Plus, Dipper’s still part of the family. He might not want to be, and you might not want him to be, and I might even ring his bell for being an idiot and a fed and especially a fedidiot if he walked in here right now, but he’s still family.”

“If you want to get technical about it, I guess he’s sort of my father,” Quattro agreed. “In a...weird, Dr. Frankenstein-y kind of way. Except he’s the one who’s gotten to wander around the world and do whatever he wanted to do all these years like the Monster, and I’m the one who gets to watch everyone I care about die whenever he’s around. You might outlive me, but Soos? Mabel? Everyone else?”

Stan’s hands had gone very still on his cards. “What do you mean, I might outlive you?”

Quattro looked at him closely for a moment to see if he was joking, but he didn’t look like he was. Did he really think, then, that Quattro somehow hadn’t noticed that….

“You haven’t aged a day since the end of the apocalypse, Stan. Do you really think anyone believes that’s a coincidence?”

The silence turned sullen before Stan finally removed his cigar from his mouth. "That damn lizard."

“Your friend the blind lizard god’s never spoken to me in my life,” Quattro assured him. “It’s just that I do have eyes. Sort of. See?” He reached up and removed his outer mask, revealing his real face for a moment. “Time’s been messed up in this town since the world un-ended, but most of the people kept getting older. Including your identical twin. But not me - “ he pointed to the perpetually twelve-year-old visage normally hidden behind his mask – “and not you.”

Stan squinted at him, clearly trying to tell if he was bluffing – and then, to Quattro’s surprised, laughed.

“Paper boys,” he announced, “have no business being as sharp as you, kid. Scissors are supposed to be one of your natural enemies, aren’t they?”

“Not so much while I’m wearing this,” said Quattro, gesturing toward his artificial body as he reattached his mask. “So – what did they do to you, anyway? And why?”

Stan sighed. “Bozo the Lizard God said that his brother made it hard for him – Bozo, I mean – to see me,” he said. “Said that looking at me made him feel like he’d gotten drunk on a trampoline. No-Eyes then said – something, I don’t remember exactly – but that it had something to do with Bozo spending too much time in the underworld. Nobody told me this, but I’m guessing...from that, and from some other stuff I've put together, I’m guessing that the way No-Eyes kept me alive was by making it...really hard for your standard-issue death gods and death angels and all those kinds of things to see where I am too clearly.” Stan chuckled grimly. “And I even think I know why he did it.”

“To save the world,” said Quattro. “Right?”

“Eh, yeah, that, too,” said Stan. “But I don’t think that’s why I’m still alive, ten years after I did that. I think that’s because of you.”

Quattro could only stare in response to this at first. “Me?”

“Yep – sort of. See, I punched him and Bozo both in the face.” Quattro nodded; Stan never tired of that story. Not that Quattro did, either; thinking too much for too long about Stan's former contacts on the Other Side had still made him angry, sometimes, even before Dipper had come back to town; now, after what had happened to Ford, he just wished he could time-and-dimension travel well enough to loan Stan his suit's gloves for said face-punchings. It was unlikely that even alloys that were nigh-indestructible by earthly standards would have made any difference, but a guy could hope.... “And I told ‘em some of it was for Tracey. The Lord of Jerks said I had no right to get upset after how I – was to you two – back then, and so I told him to shove it, because maybe Tracey wasn’t one of Bozo’s, but he was one of mine, and that therefore I could say whatever I wanted about him, unlike Bozo. So….pretty sure if I ever get a chance to ask if it was supposed to be a reward or a punishment, he’ll just say ‘yes,’ because again, jerk, but I think that’s about the time he got the idea to just...not help Bozo get over feeling drunk whenever I was in the room. Not yet, anyway.”

Quattro thought about that for a moment, and about everything that had happened since, and about how difficult he was to kill lately. "Yeah, it was definitely a punishment" he said. "If it helps, though - even in the absolute worst-case scenario, we'd get taken out in the heat death of the universe I guess, but it shouldn't take that long. Doing the math, thinking about how much air I have to let into this thing to talk...I'm guessing I'll dry rot or something in...probably not more than a hundred fifty, two hundred years, maybe. So if you're right, you'd be off the hook then, too."

Stan seemed to mull this over. "Well, guess it beats sticking around until the heat death of the universe, anyway," he said.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

It's been a while since I've done a Chortle headlines roundup. I used to do them more regularly, then I did a couple in a row where it was heavy on the post-documentary Russell Brand headlines, and that was so depressing that I cut them out for a while. Let's do a new one. I'll make this one shorter.

Oh for the love of God, Chortle. Please do not make me look at weeks of Ricky Gervais headlines in the leadup to/aftermath of the video release of Armageddon. He could not possibly need the publicity less, for so many reasons. Obviously you shouldn't be a cunt. Everyone who's going to think that already thinks it, everyone else isn't going to change, don't make us fucking read about it.

This looks like a headline that would appear on some sort of parody show. You know, if the BBC hadn't cancelled all its news/topical parody shows in the name of the exact balance mandate that I assume is the subject of that article, though I don't actually know, I'm not clicking on that.

You are doing New Year's Treat wrong, guys. It's supposed to be on New Year's and it's also supposed to have people who are famous (sorry, I'm sure it'll be fun and the people they've cast will be fine, I'm just still mildly annoyed that this year was their one chance to cast John Oliver while he was striking, the stars aligned with him having recently worked with Alex on the Horne Section show, it's gone forever now).

If anyone has the opportunity to see Pierre Novellie's Why Are You Laughing when he tours it next year, I cannot recommend it highly enough. I'm now wishing I had recommended other things less highly in the past, so I could lend more weight to this one. It's amazingly funny, and amazingly well written. It should... I mean, I was thinking it should be a strong contender for the best show (of Edinburgh 2023) award until I heard Ahir Shah's show, and I do now think they made the right choice in giving it to Ahir Shah. But it was the second best Edinburgh 2023 show, of the 40-ish I've heard. It should at least have been nominated.

Can I say something mildly sacrilegious? I'm not sure about this. I am obviously a devotee of Sam Campbell, and my view of Lucy Beaumont has wavered slightly as I've come to realize just how much she's maybe not kidding most of the time, but I do find her very funny. I just think... the proverbial straight man in a comedy group exists for a reason, you know? I don't know how well it'll work to put those two together without someone else to balance it out, they won't have anything to play off. It feels a bit too heavy on Avalan throwing together two fan favoruites from a popular TV show, more than thinking about what pairings would actually work well together. Especially since there doesn't seem to be a planned format or anything. I also don't really think they're as similar as people have suggested.

Having said that, obviously I'm going to listen to this, and I can absolutely picture a scenario in which I finish the first episode and write a glowing post about how I've been proven wildly wrong and concede that I should never have doubted their brilliance. I hope it happens that way.

I know I'm mildly annoyed at him right now, but this show is very good and people should see it if they can. One of my favourite things out of all he's ever done. He did a little preview of bits he's added to it on the latest Bugle episode, and I enjoyed that a lot.

Oh fuck off. No, come on, fuck off. You are not going to force me to engage with whatever the fuck VR is by having Mae Martin do it. It won't work.

...Having said that, is there a way to take a VR set and turn it into nice normal 2D video so I can watch the Mae Martin set? I have no idea if that's possible and I refuse to Google it, no one needs to encourage Mark Zuckerburg. But obviously I want to see what Mae Martin's doing.

I quite enjoyed this little clip. I've never been to Scotland, but this is exactly how I imagine the Edinburgh Festival, I'm currently planning a probably-actually-for-real-this-time trip for Edinburgh 2024, and I will be wildly disappointed if the festival isn't exactly like this.

Weirdly, there was nothing on the Chortle front page about Benjamin Zephaniah dying. He wasn't a comedian or anything, but he had connections to British comedy. I can't lie and say I was incredibly familiar with his work, but I really liked the poems of his that I'd heard and read (I did seek a few out and read them after seeing him on TV, as I quite liked him), and thought he came across very well every time I saw or heard him. And, obviously, 65 is too young and that would be a tragedy even if he weren't a very talented poet.

[da3dm]

i saw a tiktok that reminded me SO much of vara & irza so it got me thinking

do we get a "i had nowhere else to go" and/or "who did this to you?" scene???? if that makes sense

i crave that

THERE IS

It just comes wayyy later in the story!

I've been gatekeeping this ask for a LONG time and idk if you even remember sending it lol

I'm going to shove this into the fake fic titles bc I've absolutely adored being given a chance to write this but didn't want to accidentally give spoilers to the story

I made this slightly more romantic than intended and Irza isn't 100% in character bc idk what he was doing before it and I didn't dive into his thoughts too deeply to avoid going too far...I also cut it off at the end bc everything after is a spoil...and this took me maybe twenty minutes to do? Probably ten to fifteen, really

Vara also isn't 100% in character either but it's the exact same deal with him as with Irza. Idk what they were doing and adding too much detail on his worries and fear would have pulled the focus off Irza's pov

TW: Injuries

Word Count: 888

Fake Fic titles: I had nowhere else to go/who did this to you

It was his usual day, selecting a random abandoned house to take a break at in-between fights to avoid the heroes tracking him. He used his shadow to enter like he usually always did when traveling. Most of the time he would have avoided using it so much after fights, but for some reason the only hero that tracked him with it just…wasn't there today. It was odd and it rubbed him the wrong way, but normal people did have lives. Especially those who played hero…they probably hadn't seen even half of what he had. Normally he wouldn't care about the disappearance of a hero, seeing as it could only help him, but this was different.

This hero meant something to him that…he wasn't entirely certain what it was. All he knew is that this situation haunted him…the hero always showed up without fail. He was always there and telling him to stop what he was doing, to please not hurt anyone. That’s what made his entire day better, getting to interact with that completely flawed cat hero. Weak and pitiful man that couldn't fight worth a dime, and yet had managed to become a hero. It was questionable, sure, but he didn’t care much. All he cared about was the fact it was night, he had used his shadows excessively to draw him out, and the cat still wasn't at his rest point.

As it was starting to both bore him and create more worry than he ever cared to admit, a knock sounded at the otherwise silent door. He glanced over, wondering how he’d missed it, but too busy grinning to ponder for too long. He knew that shadow…the hero had finally come after him. What a pleasant development. This brought him to his feet smoothly and he walked to the door without a sound, taking a moment to bring the smile down at least slightly. It would be boring if the cat thought he was actually happy to see him. All of those games would instantly be wasted and he’d never change the guy’s mind again.

He pulled the door open once his smile was under control, not even fully looking before he started, “Well, well—” He was cut off with a surprised lilt to his voice when the hero instantly fell against him limply, almost lifelessly. His tail flicked and he frowned, automatically raising his hands to support the hero and…noticing the blood. Immediately, he was on edge, his tail lashing behind him as he narrowed his eyes at the cat. With a quick scan, he noted that his magic reserves looked forcefully depleted, he was covered in both magical and physical wounds, and was barely staying awake, his breathing far too labored with his head hung.

Before he could really say anything, the cat reached up and grabbed his shirt almost desperately, clinging to the villain like the man was his last lifeline. “I…I’m sorry…I know I shouldn't have gone to you, but…I had nowhere else to go.” The last bit came out as a weak sob, the hero finally turning his face upward to look at the villain. With a face covered in bruises, scrapes, and filled with streaming tears, he gazed pleadingly at the person who was usually his enemy, his ears droopy, tail limp, and every last drop of his bright light gone. He'd been stripped of his joy and was broken.

His blood boiled intensely, his eyes sharpening into a dangerous glare when he stared at the hero—his hero. His precious, joyful ball of fur wasn’t even standing on his own as he lay crumpled against someone that he thought was an enemy. They’d pushed him far enough he’d gone to a villain. With a tone full of murder and as icy as the arctic, he snarled, “Who did this to you?” No-one, and he meant no-one, was allowed to hurt this hero. Not his hero. He still held patience for the weak man, but his mind already raced with the many ways he could retaliate, that he could crush those that hurt his hero.

The cat hero was shuddering slightly under that gaze, but merely buried his face in the villain’s chest and prayed the anger wasn't his fault. “I-it…I’m sorry…” He could only sob out another apology, losing more and more strength as he began to fully rely on the powerful and firm grip of the villain to stay on his feet. “I shouldn't…I shouldn't have come to you—”

With a growl, his long, serpentine tail came up under the hero’s chin to the pleas and force him to look at the villain. Both frustrated and hurting for his hero, the dangerous villain looked this hero in the eye without any lies. “Who. Did. This?” He bit back some of his more aggressive responses and knew that he’d be answering questions for helping the hero, his hero, but he didn’t care. In any other situation he may have just knocked the cat out and let him rest, but for him to have been broken like this? For that constant sunshine he had even when fighting villains to just…be erased? He wasn’t going to ignore it.

Eventually, the hero stopped looking at the villain with so much fear from being forced to look up, choking out, “I-it was…”

—

End

After finding out, he got the hero settled down on a bed in the abandoned house and went out to absolutely destroy the culprits...of which I won't name bc it's actually a spoiler. I'm considering using this again later for that timeline, it would just be a little different bc the circumstances leading up to it would be different than in my head atm.

Anyway, hope everyone liked my first fake fic!

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 53

Fresh Blood/Army of Ghosts

"Fresh Blood"

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: no one died in the Bella and Gordon meetup, but if you’re asking if I would survive a vampire attack….not without Sam and Dean there

Wait…do we get Bella AGAIN?? Thank you. Thank you so much, writers. Don’t like that Gordon’s ambushed her

“Sam Winchester’s the antichrist” is just a sentence that’s said with utmost seriousness in this show. I love it here

Bestie is not just morally gray. She’s morally gunmetal. Morally charcoal. (And yet I still think she’s not truly going to betray the boys, but she sure is gonna look like she is)

Nah, I’m with Sam here, that was too close, Dean. You can’t be….if you get turned into a vampire, will the hellhounds have any affect on you?? Asking for a friend

I want this vampire to be lying so badly. I want her to absolutely fool them. Why do I want this??

And immediately taking that back “there was this guy. He was old. Like, 30.” Girl, you are at LEAST 25

How does JPad give the coldest, deadliest stare and also the saddest puppy dog eyes? He’s done both in this scene.

Man. I know Dean just threatened to kill Bella with all the seriousness in the world, but I’m still holding out hope for something else

Wait…is this how/when we lose Gordon as an antagonist? OH SHIT. Gordon got turned into that which he hates most. Maybe don’t taunt a vampire who has you captive….I dunno. I’d like to read a paper on the treatment of Gordon in the show, though. There’s probably a lot of commentary that could be made about him

Vampire Gordon is even more terrifying

Mmmm, original vampire should have killed Gordon when he had the chance. Mourning the loss of your new vampire daughters was the price he paid. It’s no wonder he’s begging Sam and Dean to kill him

Maybe it’s that this season is particularly short, but every single episode has had a monster or victim really twist the knife on what what the Winchesters are feeling about the deal Dean made

Oh that was pure tragedy watching Gordon kill his hunter buddy.

I’m glad Sam’s FINALLY confronting Dean about this. About how Dean’s been acting like his life doesn’t matter at all since he’s only got a year to live (less, now). Catch me crying in the break room. “I wish you would drop the show and just be my brother again.” I can’t do this…(because I’m having Todobros feelings about it)

Gordon…you didn’t have to bring innocent people into it…(I can’t wait to try to find some good writing on Gordon)

RIP Gordon. You deserved better from the writers room.

Not handling it particularly well that this is genuinely the best Dean can do to just be Sam’s brother again: teaching him how to fix the impala because he’s gonna need to learn how to…

"Been On My Mind...": Nah.

"Army of Ghosts"

I'm...not ready to say goodbye to Rose.

Also, it's downright CRUEL of the Doctor to ask her how long she's going to stay with him. He knows the answer isn't forever. He knows it CAN'T be forever. So asking is just mean for both of them.

I don't know how long Rose has been gone for, but...it feels like the world got really comfortable with "ghosts are real and we are going to treat them like nothing happened" REAL QUICKLY.

It's times like these I miss Mickey. He never would have put up with this.

OMG they moved from "ghosts are real" to integrating them into everyday life to WRITING TV EPISODES WHERE GHOSTS ARE DISCRIMINATED AGAINST REALLY FUCKING QUICKLY. TWO MONTHS?? IT TOOK TWO MONTHS???

hOW...I'm not here actually complaining about Freema being in this episode, but it feels odd to have her here THIS CLOSE to when she becomes the next long term companion.

These episodes and the ones in the parallel universe are the biggest ads for wired headphones I've ever watched. They really make me never want to get a set of airpods, I'll tell you that much.

Ew, Jackie. No. Just because Rose has gone places, seen things, had life experiences you never got to doesn't mean she's not still HER. I'm sorry you miss your daughter and the person you remember her being, but THIS? is not it. Talking about how she'll be a strange woman in a marketplace some galaxies away in 40 or 50 years time, but she won't be Rose Tyler. As if we're meant to stay the same way our whole lives, never learn or grow.

All THAT said, Jackie and the Doctor should get to sass each other more often.

Ew. Really don't like Yvonne...

The sphere does not exist. It seems like it exists, like it's just right there when you look at it. And it's in a special room in Torchwood built just for it, so it would make more sense for it to be there than not. But it does not exist, according to Rajesh Singh and his team of Torchwood scientists. Existence is tricky.

(Related: Is watching Torchwood worth it? Or is it full of people like Yvonne? I never got into the spin offs for Doctor Who. I know Jack's in it and there's a guy named Iago(? something close to that, iirc) and...another person to round out a trio of main characters. This has turned into that "no I love all my children equally. There's [correct name], *looks at smudges on hand* [close but incorrect name followed by increasingly incorrect names]")

OMG I WAS JUST SAYING HOW I MISSED MICKEY!!!! AND NOW HE'S HERE!!!

Scary that it only takes three people to fuck up the entire operation. I'm not saying that the way Torchwood was handling this was right or that they actually had things under control (they didn't, but it looked like they did. and to them, it felt like they did). But it took just three people being somewhat turned into cybermen to bring the sphere into actual existence and then bring the rest of the cybermen along with it.

I'm loving this new confidence Mickey has. Love that he can be just friendly with Rose. He's not clingy anymore, he's not guilting her for going of with the Doctor anymore. He's his own man, and I'm proud of him.

WAIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAIT WAIT WAAAAAAIT!!! IS DOOMSDAY THE EPISODE WITH THE DALEKS VS. CYBERMEN EXCHANGE I LOVE SO MUCH??? Oh, not to wish my weekend away (especially with the everything else that happens in that episode), but...........

[sweetswesf]

Check In

What I Did Today

TOO much social media & online videos

Successfully fought the urge to get a new IG

Assigned people in my professional engineering squad their secret santa recipients

Fought urge to order out & actually ate what I had in my kitchen

Watched an AlgoExpert video

Got some sun & grocery shopped

Saw the girl who invited me to an event held by the only dudes I have slept with (one of whom is now engaged) was let go by sadi dudes; I offered her support and tried to relate without being like "I HATE THOSE GUYS TOO"...she kinda gave me a weird response...immediately regretted reaching out...seconds later, one of the said damn dudes reached out to invite me! I wanted to say, "So we just gone act like it never happened huh!?"...I don't know what to respond with...part of me is like, "let it go," the other part of me is like UGHHHH why can't I escape this!? I mean I could if I blocked them...I guess a part of me wants them to feel bad for what they did or apologize, which I know, from history, they'll never do...I could also just meet someone else there but idk...I've NEVER met anyone of promise at any of these stupid mixing events...I just always leave with a weird encounter...

Rented Alice & Wonderland...I've been trying to watch it for years...I may watch it in my "downtime" this week

First meeting w/my new therapist

Bought a gift for my secret santa recipient

My literal thought process ALL...DAY...LONG...: "Eat, then hop into work...okay maybe just watch a video...okay, one more and then get to it...okay, at least sit a the desk...*goes to YouTube, Twitter, etc.*...okay, find that series you like to watch...okay one more Great British Baking Show episode...what if you get tired while you're working...what if you're too cold...what if the heater is making you tired...okay meal time again...okay try to start again...*watches more vidoes*...what if I'm too old...what if I should try something else out...man I wish I had more fam support...what if I don't need to study this crap...am losing all the progress I've been building...UGH! get to work...will I be single forever...all these layoffs, if they don't have it, they'll be sure I don't get it...oh shoot...it's time to meet for the study group soon...you can't work, just start tomorrow...okay, it's after 7:30 PM, at least try to knock this one lesson out since she's doing it too, you don't want to be embarrassed again...should I work out tomorrow or just make up for lost time today..."

Added website blocker & time limits back to my desktop & phone

What I Learned Today

Linked lists...including doubly, circular, and doubly circular linked lists

Feeling

This staying focused thing is harder than I thought it would be...I need to build a bit more discipline

Fat

Apparently not scared enough to study as hard as I need to

Slightly paranoid about being vulnerable to YET another person who may not handle my feelings the way I need them to

Proud I did not NEED a nap today

Can y'all pray for me, please

Takeaways

I'm going to get there

I need to get up & move more during my day

I really appreciate the friend that took me out to Black Panther, suggested we start doing a bake exchange, and, today, encouraged me by telling me in our study session that she'd watch the same video I set out to watch...I wasn't going to do it, but that added pressure was just enough pressure I needed to do it today...mind you, she's going through a stressful time...we both are, but we are confiding in each other, helping each other along, and I am grateful...as someone who has been losing people left & right, I am grateful

How I Got Myself Out of a Rut Today

Confiding in a friend

Trying new creations

FINALLY finding a site that streams full episodes of the series that got me interested in Netflix in the first place years ago, The World's Most Extraordinary Homes...looking at that, I said, "Why NOT me!?"...then recommenced procrastinating for hours after that, but, it did get me up...I'm going to live in something like this one day:

Goals Completed

Found a therapist

Stopped listening to people worried about their own circumstances and remembering God works on his own time and that I am in no rush...

Got back on the ball

Being kinder to myself and stopping guilting myself if my energy isn't always on 100%

Goals After Today

Strengthen my relationship with God

Understand the main concepts I need to from Interview Cake, AlgoExpert, etc. in 6 months, NOT less than 3

Drop my body fat percentage to Marion Jones, Michaela Cole, or Jade Cargill levels

Consistently fight urge to fill up my time with social media/YouTube

Fully forgive my family & build a great relationship with them

Be more confident & faithful

250 steps/hour & 10k steps/daily consistently

Drink more than 64oz a day consistently

Go on a date with a guy I actually like who actually likes me too

[avaantares]

Going to expand a bit on the "or else."

I was at a group thing the other day and heard someone older (sixties-seventies, not sure of her exact age) asking another woman where she'd gone for vacation because she had such a nice "healthy tan."

I cringed just hearing that phrase -- an advertising myth from a bygone era, which survived longer than its contemporaries such as "cigarettes are good for you" and "children should eat more lard." I'd just finished sorting some publications for a sale, and I read an article in one of them that forcefully reiterated how there was no such thing as a "healthy" tan, all tanning is a sign of irreversible skin damage, and we should all be wearing sunscreen daily to stave off deadly skin cancers -- the diagnosis of which was climbing at record rates compared to other types of cancer.

This article was published in 1990.

We've known since well before the invention of the World Wide Web that unprotected sun exposure can actually kill you, and yet people are still going out without sunscreen -- or even deliberately tanning because "I just want to look good for the wedding," or "I'll get a little tan first so I don't burn," or whatever reason.

Everyone's skin can be damaged by the sun, regardless of skin color or pigmentation. The results of cumulative sun damage aren't just freckles or dryness or leathery texture -- it can be basal cell carcinoma, or melanoma, or squamous cell carcinoma, or even merkel cell carcinoma, which is the deadliest form and often metastasizes to other organs, such as the brain or lungs. (Even when treated successfully, it has a ~40% chance of recurring within 3 years.)

If it sounds like I'm trying to scare you... well, I am. I've had numerous family members and acquaintances diagnosed with skin cancer. Sunscreen (or equivalent gear; see below) is cheap insurance, and it could literally save your life.

Choosing a sunscreen

Not all sunscreens are created equal. Mineral sunscreens (those made with zinc oxide or titanium dioxide) are generally better choices; they're more shelf-stable than chemical sunscreens, and offer full-spectrum protection. They're also better for the planet -- most chemical sunscreens are actually toxic to marine life and coral reefs, and should never be used at the beach or around waterways. (Some sunscreens advertise "reef-safe" or "reef-friendly," but those terms are unregulated, so anyone can use them regardless of ingredients. Here's a guide to choosing a true reef-safe product.)

Chemical sunscreens that contain active ingredients such as homosalate, avobenzone and oxybenzone offer full-spectrum protection when new, but only remain at peak effectiveness for a few months in storage (and break down more quickly in high-temperature environments, such as a hot car). Chemical sunscreens should not be stored from year to year. If you have chemical sunscreen left over from a previous year, it's probably expired and will not provide full protection.

Both kinds of sunscreens come in a variety of forms, including sprays, creams, liquids, and solid sticks that you can apply as needed. Choose the type that works best for your own skin and convenience.

For daily use, it's a good idea to wear a sunscreen with SPF rating of at least 15. A lot of daily facial moisturizers contain a light sunscreen, so you can just put that on in the morning to protect yourself from casual sun exposure. If you're going to be outside for any length of time (mowing the lawn, watching a sporting event, going for a walk, shoveling snow), go with SPF 30 or higher. (I wear SPF 50+ any time I'm planning to be outdoors, because I'm pale and at high risk.) Be sure to reapply as directed.

Free/cheap sunscreen samples

If you're worried about the cost of adding sunscreen to your daily regimen (and yes, some varieties can be pricey), here are some places you can get free or lower-cost samples to get you started. (These are USA only, since that's where I'm based, but you can Google "free sunscreen sample" to check what's available in your region.)

LaRoche-Posay Anthelios Melt-In Milk SPF 60 free sample request form, no purchase necessary!

Suntegrity has lower-cost ($2-$7) samples of their tinted SPF 30 sunscreen products

PinchMe offers rotating free product samples such as this sunscreen that you can claim at no charge

DailyGoodieBox also has products on rotation, but they sometimes offer skin care boxes that include sunscreen

Sephora stores offer free take-home samples of nearly every product they sell, including a lot of sunscreen moisturizers; visit a local store if you have one. If you place an online order, you can also add up to three free product samples to your order (online sample products rotate, but there's usually at least one sunscreen product). They also periodically offer sunscreen sample packs that you can purchase at a reduced price to try new products.

Ulta Beauty has a free membership program that sends you a free gift and/or product samples on your birthday; they often have sunscreen available

LOTS of sunscreen companies offer free sunscreen wipes or sample packs at large events such as state fairs, concert festivals, sporting events, etc., so keep an eye out if you go to a big outdoor event!

"...But I HATE the texture/smell/whatever of sunscreen!"

If you don't like the idea of slathering your body in sunscreen, there are other sun protection options available. One of my go-tos is UPF-rated clothing. Whenever I know I'm going to be out in direct sun all day, I wear a long-sleeved, zip-up UPF 50 swim shirt that provides the same or better sun protection as wearing SPF 50 sunscreen. Because it's a thin, lightweight material designed for swimming, it's not hot -- I even wore it in the Sahara desert.

(It's a selfie, so you can't see much of the shirt, but I wore this thing all over Egypt, Jordan, Türkiye and Greece. I also wear it for, y'know, actual swimming.)

UPF shirts come in many styles, with and without zippers, pockets, or hoods:

UPF clothing is sold at sporting and outdoors stores (such as REI), as well as on Amazon and other retail sites. Depending on style and features, they run between $20-$60 -- or about the cost of two to four tubes of sunscreen. I paid about $25 for mine several years ago, and I've DEFINITELY gotten my money's worth out of it.

While it's still best to wear sunscreen on any exposed skin (including ears and lips!) when outdoors, you can also reduce direct sun on your face by wearing a broad-brimmed hat. Try to choose one that's solid material, rather than a straw hat with open weaving or holes that allow sunlight through.

In conclusion...

None of us enjoys thinking and stressing about all the ways our environment is trying to kill us, but using sun protection is a simple habit to get into, and it's an easy way to stay safe while still enjoying outdoor activities.

In short: Wear sunscreen.

be pro-aging but wear sun screen. sun protection is not beauty industry propaganda it will save you. wear it. or else.

[walkinthefairygarden]

A couple of a friends and I got into a pretty big "tussle" with other friend of our. I saw "tussle" because anything else hurts to much to say. But bascially the result of the end of it was her thinking she was not in the wrong (which she sort of was) and she just cut all of us off. I personally have been friends with her since we were in 8th grade together. And she somehow did it so easily, without any problem that I know of. I was hurt, I still am hurt. I seem to have a fear, I have realized over the years, or losing people. I was fine all day, angry even. But then I thought about it later, and it finally hit me. I was crying for hour, sobbing. I couldn't seem to stop myself. Because even though she made me feel terrible sometimes, the times she made me feel happy and myself, overruled that. And so I didn't know how to handle losing someone that I saw as my best friend. I don't know if she ever saw me the same way. I wanted to put something on my notes that might make her feel some way, so I put one of her favorite artist and the song "We'll Meet Again". I saw later that her note was changed to also a song by him, as you can see. I don't know if she did it because of mine. I want to tell her so many things but I'm terrified. I'm terrified that she won't care. I'm terrified that she will and I will just get thrown back into the same cycle. I want to tell her about the wall that I try so hard to build and how it gets torn back down every week. And every week when it gets torn down, I start it again. Because I can't handle anything when it's not at least partly up. I want to tell her that this event, tore it all the way down and I'm not sure how well it will stay up here on out. I want to tell her that I have thought about killing myself but refuse to say anything to anyone because I hate the sympathy that people get. I want to tell her that it makes me sick when people gush over you when you are upset but at the same time also makes me sick when they don't. I want to tell her that I wish I could just shut everything off. I want to tell her that so many times throughout the day, nothing feels real and it scares me and that I can't do anything to stop it. I want to tell her that I say these things and I make myself sick because I feel like I'm just saying them for attention. I want to tell her that I love her and I hate her. I want to tell her that I never want to see her again but at the same time am not sure what I would do without her. She doesn't care though. I know she is gone already. I know by saying any of this is just adding onto the problem. I want to tell her that I just want the world to stop. I want to tell her that she hurt me.

[ladambell]

Feelings are hard.

I've heard it said before that if you continue to like something ironically for long enough — a silly pop song, a movie with bad acting, an ideology, what have you — then it becomes an unironic appreciation of that thing. I think the same might hold true for adulthood: pretend you're a grownup long enough, and you become one. Tick enough boxes in the "responsibilities" column, and the rest — the ennui, the debt, the dread, the back hair — it sneaks up on you.

There was a time in my life that if someone near me was playing a video game, I was there watching them and trying to convince them to let me play, no matter what that game was. Now I'm often either too preoccupied or too burnt out to play games with my own kid. Live service games where you play with or against real humans intimidate me, and mobile games are stuffed full of inspid ads for even more insipid mobile games. Sorry, tangent.

I used to run a podcast. I had a Twitter alt account where I posted silly bits of old cartoons. I even occasionally went out with friends! Madness! Now I get excited by new clothes, appliances, new toiletries. I look forward to working on broadcasts of high school football games — for the money, sure, but also because I get to hang out with people from my last job that I dearly miss.

So all of that... that's how I've been feeling lately. With my thrice-weekly commute, work, cooking, chores, errands, and oh yeah, sleep... it feels like I have little time left for anything else. And with the confluence of those precious moments of free time, a tight family budget, mild social anxiety, and a more-than-mild addiction to social media, it's not hard to see why my interest in hobbies, conversation, and even recreation have gone completely by the wayside.

But now I'm struggling for a sense of identity, because so often it feels like all I am is a tool completing a series of tasks. Filling a space like an extra in a TV show, adding texture to a background without really contributing anything.

What do I even DO anymore? My job definitely serves a purpose in my organization, but it's hard to see anything outside of that. I don't see any product at the end of the day, something I can point to and say "I MADE THAT." When I was in a creative job, even a news editor, I could still point to a piece I cut and say "I MADE THAT" and feel proud of myself. Now, as long as the place isn't burning down and my inbox isn't blowing up, I can't get that feeling anymore. Pointing at a schedule and going "I MADE... sure that... there were... ⁿᵒ ᶜᵒⁿᶠˡⁱᶜᵗˢ" just doesn't hold the same sense of satisfaction for me. And what do I have to show for that, you know? I don't even have anything from my current job I could show to another potential employer and say "I MADE THAT." All I'd have to go on would be whatever praise my current boss has for me, and she barely even knows what I do.

I used this analogy when I gave a presentation to my current team a little while back — this quote from Futurama describes my job perfectly:

So I mean, sure, I get the occasional "attaboy" at work, and it's nice to be appreciated, to have your work acknowledged. But again, words are cheap and no one cares how much money you make. I have nothing of value to show for the time I've spent here so far.

Alicia astounds me. She has her job, AND she does a lot for the kiddo, AND her scout stuff, AND at least two friends she regularly chats with, AND she handles all the bills, AND SHE EVEN READS. Like, books. She's amazing. As useless and milquetoast as I feel sometimes, it's a wonder we're still together. I think the moments I feel surest in myself are the times she boosts me up — when she tells me about how a parent chatted her up at a scout event and asked her how she manages to do everything she does for scouts while also balancing a full-time job, and Alicia praises me: "I have the most wonderful husband, who supports me and helps with our kid, and takes care of so much of the house stuff..." Even now as I type it, I start to tear up. More than being appreciated, it's good to feel necessary. To have a real purpose. To be a pillar for someone else. That's why I keep doing all the adult things — because I know if I don't, I'll be hurting them. Hurting her.

I consider myself a very private person; I don't open up to people without seriously getting to know them first, and I'm fairly antisocial — I really only make friends when I'm stuck with other people in some situation I can't escape. If I were on my own... I'm not sure I could've made it this far. Despite having a degree in mass media, I'm still convinced I wouldn't have gotten the TV job if I hadn't been with her — her old co-worker's husband worked at the TV station, you see. He put in a good word for me. I don't know, I have very few friends and no clue how to network.

I have no idea where I'd be now if it weren't for her.

When he and his brother Justin announced that they were retiring from their jobs at Polygon in 2018, Griffin McElroy said:

It does not matter how happy your work makes you if work is all that there is.

So I guess if I have any sense of identity right now in my life, it's as a supporter, a provider. Life isn't about me, and whether I make things or not doesn't matter all that much. What matters is the family I support, the love I help create. That's more important than a hobby, at least for now. And this feeling of emptiness isn't forever, it's temporary.

I still like video games, although I don't have nearly as much time or money for them as others apparently do.

I still have ongoing games of Scrabble and Words with Friends with a trio of regulars (that I rarely ever talk to).

I still jot down potential Only Connect questions every now and then in the Notes app on my phone.

And I think maybe someday I'd like to find a way to do some more painting. The process never seems all that special at the time, but the results are usually pretty satisfying.