#threads: l. kyle.

[survivedsarchived]

there is no clock or wallscreen displaying the outside to inform lukas of the time: he only has his internal clock - slightly skewed now, by these days of entrapment - and his meal deliveries, which seem fairly consistent. bernard's visits are more erratic, though he seems to avoid the stretch of hours lukas has deemed his nighttime, when his only companions are the small radio that alerts him to the goings-on of his own silo, and the glaring red light that signifies juliette.

he wishes he had his star charts. there are two books spread out in front of him, pilfered from the tomes bernard continues to insist he's not ready to read, but that lukas is perusing regardless, though none of the pages seem to contain any information about the sky. he's glanced through the titles, their content pages, and it seems to be a subject that this hidden library is dismissive of - which lukas finds unsettling. all those pinpricks of light, so far out of reach, and no one before cared? the thought ruminates uncomfortably as he slides a finger down the microphone of the headset, exhaling loudly into it, sounding a little tired as he reports to @flxmekeepr, “there's hardly been a change over here. they've still got the barricade up, down deep.” lukas doesn't mean to sound bitter. he just wants out - to stretch his legs on the steps as he walks to the up-top cafeteria, settles in for a viewing of the sky.

but he knows it wouldn't be the same even if he could, because jules wouldn't be there, too.

“- you have these books over there too, right?” lukas asks, because he doesn't want to talk about this war anymore tonight. he doesn't want to think about the gunfire, the smell of smoke, the way the explosions had rattled his teeth. he just wants to talk to her. “have you read any of them yet?”

[akechi-if-he-slayed]

this is how i feel whenever people go out of their way to describe how abysmal and disgusting kyman is as if it is not. a ship in a cartoon with characters who are very much not real people!!!

[willowed-wisp]

stitches [simon ‘ghost’ riley]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x reader/you

Hopefully this doesn’t suck and makes sense for the most part. Thanks for anybody that reads this 🥰

WARNINGS: smut, descriptions of injury, body insecurity… a bit of plus size!reader

When you joined the Special Forces, you didn’t want to form attachments.

That was the only rule you held yourself to.

As a medic back at base, you thought it would be easy. Alas, fate had other plans in the form of Task Force 141.

Lead by Captain John Price- who had handpicked you for medical support- to stay back at whatever base looked like- whether it be a van or a safe house.

With that, you lived with the boys. John Price, Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish and Simon Riley. You kept yourself to yourself at first, not confident among four SAS soldiers nor in yourself. Knowing of them only.

So you planned to stay huddled in the corner and quiet.

Then in the middle of the night, you came face to face with a black balaclava and a gruff voice, “Ya good?” You only remember the nightmares… more so flashbacks. They were relentless- creeping in the recesses of your mind, waiting for times when stress peaked. Unfortunately this entire ordeal was nerve-wracking.

You only noticed the warm hand on your shoulder, instinct led you to stare past the noir covering the majority of his face and into his eyes. Caring eyes.

He had no need to check if you were okay, he didn’t know you but, nevertheless, it was nice to see the lieutenant as something other than a looming figure.

The seriousness became too much to bear for you, “Do you sleep in that thing?” Using humour to take the edge off- well trying to.

“Soundly,” Earthy, rugged… British yourself, he sounded awfully English. That was when your eyes dawned on the clock- the time more specifically. 02:01.

“Do you sleep at all?” Another attempt but he didn’t laugh- your smile faded, maybe a tad intimated. He wasn’t exactly small.

He stood away, no longer crouching at your bedside. How tall was the guy? You tried to hide the wonder on your face, “Better than you… when I do get a kip…” Some pain in those words. “Better get some shut eye, Y/L/N… see ya at dawn.” You slept better knowing at least someone in 141 had your back.

After that you started integrating more with the lads. You learned that Johnny could clean his messes up exceptionally well, and that’s why he was called ‘Soap’. Price still thought the name was bullcrap but alas, not your problem.

You also noticed that Ghost never showed his face. Black face paint shrouding the skin showing around his dark eyes or his sunglasses. You preferred the face paint.

He had a habit of watching you from across the room chatting with Soap and Gaz- you blocked any possible avenues of relationships. Not that they’d be interested in you (your own thoughts). You didn’t find yourself attractive or good enough. A bit too much weight, you continued to think.

It was a good thing, you couldn’t get distracted.

That was until that day…

Supply checks… stock up on the sterilised needle and stitch thread. You barely had any use to 141, just a glorified nurse who had no business being given a code name.

“Stitches! It’s LT!” The brash Scotsman bolstered his comrade over to the gurney in the impromptu medical van. Blue eyes flashed over into yours, hulking the larger man to lay on his back.

Ghost wasn’t having any of it, attempting to sit up only for more blood to gush from his thigh. You rushed into action, “Soap, get us out of here,” said all too calmly for someone under such pressure. The man did as he was told and they were off. Meanwhile, you had pushed the lieutenant down on the bed. He grunted in pain each time he made a move, “For fuck’s sake, stay still so I can fucking see.” Blue gloves on, as he stopped wriggling, “Thank you.” You were still unimpressed but at least he listened. Unbeknownst to you under the mask he donned a pained smirk- unaware you could be so commandeering. Almost proud of you.

A grunt paused his pride, “Fuck…” Through gritted teeth. Your fingers working the tweezers with expert precision.

He went to sit up, your left hand pressed against his sturdy chest- pushing him down, “Want me to snag your femoral artery, Ghost?” In no time, a red-coated bullet laid in the metal tray and he sat there in his boxer shorts- watching you work and hitching a breath each time the needle breached skin.

They were the gentlest hands that had ever worked on him. “What happened?” Eyes boring into his as you cast off the stitch.

“Someone got the jump on me, should see ‘im,” you smiled at that, able to tell he was too. By his eyes.

The ones you dreamt of every night- except when the terrors returned. Johnny was too heavy of a sleeper to hear you, but Simon’s eyes were what you woke up to. In the flesh. He never asked what they were about, just comforted you.

When your deployment ended, and you returned home… you missed the guys. And his warm eyes whenever you returned to the land of the living.

Johnny contacted you. A pub crawl in Scotland, apparently Gaz, Price and even Simon were game.

Turns out you and Ghost didn’t live too far away. In ten minutes, a knock at your door and you met that deep gaze. “Johnny only just message ya, didn’t he?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m drivin’ us, don’t trust Gaz’s deathtrap…”

“Well… I just need to grab my stuff,” He started to walk away up the path to his 4x4. “You can come in and wait if you wanted?” Who was he to turn you down when you asked so nicely.

He helped you with your bags, “You sure ya gonna get through with that?”

“Haha,” dry humour, there was a reason you seemed to get on, “And if you want me to get more shit…”

You could see a glint in his eyes, “Nah, you’re alright, love…” That went straight down to between your thighs, the look on your face amused the man.

Surprisingly, the two of you weren’t awkward. Quiet here and there.

You assumed he wasn’t used to social interaction in general- especially wearing that balaclava, not good for conversation.

Simon was good to talk to, all waffled speech was redacted with him. Straight forward, sometimes sarcastic and wholly looking for banter- that’s what you preferred.

And there was no chance he would be interested in you. He has the aura of a guy who gets the attention of stunning women. Why would he want you? (You thought)

It was never going to happen.

By the end of that car ride, he learned about your messy string of exes and he had way too much Shania Twain on his playlist (and knew all of the words).

Johnny greeted you both with open arms, a tight hug for you, “You been ta’ing care of yourself, Stitches?”

“Better than you look, use more soap…” The laughs and hug came to an abrupt end- his stare directed over to Simon who loomed behind you. Was it just you, or did Johnny look scared?

“Let me show y’ where you’ll be sleepin’…”You went to grab your bags but Ghost already had it covered.

Poor you, you didn’t know what would await your stay at Johnny MacTavish’s.

The tip was a stretch, your head thrown back against the blanket pillow. Silent screams playing in your throat. He could feel the struggle and see the pleasure striking your visage. Murmurs of his name, “Si- Simon -!” Broken and whimpering. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t on the edge of losing his cool. You were pulsing around him so angelic.

“You’re takin’ me so well, lovie,” His hips took a full stroke, bracing your cervix. Thrumming and dripping wet. Another groan of his name.

The rhythm sank in, strangled moans trapped- your breathing wild against his ear. His thrusts swinging all the way back until they gutted you. Over and over. “Feels. So. GOOD -!” His hand covering your mouth, noting that the owner of the house was just next door and the other two at the end of the hall. Simon’s place supposed to be on the couch downstairs surrounded by Soap’s army memorabilia. Not right there, balls deep inside of you. Loving every second.

Cherishing every inch of you, kissing you in the moment to stay quiet so he could remain there for a while longer. So he may get some sleep, for the first time in a week.

Before you know it, his hand anchored around your ankles- spreading them to hook better. You’ve never moaned so loud in your life. Even echoing off the walls of the room. “Fuck it…” He was too far gone to care what the boys heard or thought. He had been thinking about that moment since he met you, looking so delectable with his cock hammering into you. Taking him so well.

You didn’t know if he would ever tire out, another rush of adrenaline and exhaustion swept over your limp body- numb to anything other than where his thighs slammed against your own and how raw you were going to in the morning.

Your legs fell, his grip focused at your jaw; leaning over- rubbing against sensitivity deep- and claiming your lips in a ravenous kiss that had your head spinning more than before.

Hands falling to your hips, thrusts sloppy as you tightened once again. “Where can I- ,” Drunk on how he tasted, your legs locked around his body.

“Inside,” Your hand found the base of his hair at Simon’s neck, holding on for dear life. Warmth spread downwards as your nails dug into his toned back and neck alike. A thick groan filled the air- enough to become addicted.

Neither of you panted, thriving in the silence. He savoured being hilted inside you, careful not to crush you beneath him. Hot breath spanning your collarbone. “Can’t tell ya how long I’ve wan’ed to do that…”

You felt so small against him, so yearned for. No face covering on his end, no boundaries. Laid bare to him and he wanted you anyway.

Fingers stroked at his thick hair, “Same, Si…”

Neither of you knew who fell victim to slumber first.

The morning came around, the boys had looked proud of themselves… too proud, too giddy. Especially Johnny.

“I think the gutters need check’ng, heard some weird noise last nigh’,” You’ve never threatened Johnny’s mohawk before but that day you grew close.

Price even had a glint of mischief in those clear eyes of his, “Vampires common in Scotland?” You didn’t check your neck, too caught up in the heat the previous night.

Gaz had a smirk on his face, “Not from what I know of, sir…”

Christ, you were never gonna hear the end of it.

______

masterlist

[lieutnt]

kinktober - #2

size kink w/ kyle "gaz" garrick x top!male reader kinktober masterlist

No matter how much prep you did beforehand Kyle still felt as if he was being split open, hands desperately clinging to his pillow to try and distract himself from the sting as you open him up inch by inch, pained groans leaving his lips as you push further, taking the time to stop and lean down, capturing his mouth in a sloppy kiss, one that leaves a thread of spit connecting you when you pull back to sink in deeper. He throws his head back when you finally bottom out, chest heaving as he tries to get his breathing under control - inhale, exhale.

The blood stops rushing in his ears when the warmth of your hands radiates on his hips and then slides up to his ribs, soothing him, bringing him back to you. Only, when your hands fall back down you freeze, and Kyle manages to crack open an eyelid (although he’s not sure when they shut) to crane his neck and look at you, your stare locked on his belly. 

You laugh in disbelief, taking one of his hands in yours to pull it to his belly and push down, leaving him to sharply inhale when he feels where his stomach has distended. He can’t help but stare, incredibly turned on for you to be big enough for you to show. 

Your lips quirk, fingers pushing his to the side to stroke the bulge. “Look how deep I am Kyle.” It feels like his nerves are on fire, the bump a prominent reminder of just how much bigger you were than him. 

The first time his eyes fell on you his stomach had tightened, gaze unashamedly taking in every detail of your body, and the fact that he, who had never really considered himself short, was only level with your chest had blood rushing to his cock.

While Kyle waited for his body to adjust he patted your arms until you got the hint, leaning over his body to link your fingers with his, Kyle’s obsession with your hands the worst kept secret. 

He couldn’t help it, eyes automatically locking onto your hands like they were performing the world’s greatest show when you were doing something monotonous - cleaning your weapons, flipping through files, and when your relationship was still blooming that first time he got to feel them on his body, how they made him feel small, secure, even when all you did something as simple as put your hand in the centre of his back to hold him close as you kissed him. He swears he was able to feel it for days afterwards, the residual heat from your palm lingering on his spine and his attraction went up a notch, desperate to feel the way your hands swallowed him up again.

Kyle whines as you detangle your fingers, attempting to keep them locked together until you kiss away his pout, distracting him long enough for you to plant your forearm above his head, body engulfing him. As soon as he realises the change in position he’s arching up into your touch, humming pleasantly as skin touches skin and somehow your cock sinks in deeper. His arms lock around you, hands appreciatively stroking the bulk of your back as you chain kisses down his neck. 

“Can I move?” You murmur against his skin, your free hand sliding down his side until you’re holding the back of his thigh. 

Kyle nods, whispering a barely audible “Please,” you would’ve missed if you weren’t so close. The hand around his thigh tightens, pulling it up while his other leg follows, both settling around either side of your hips as you slowly roll your body, grinding in before pulling out until just the tip. He groans, able to feel the way your cock drags along his walls, each time you repeat the action the pain gradually giving way to pleasure. 

You stay like this for minutes, exchanging lazy kisses while you fuck Kyle open, the resistance his body held growing weaker and weaker until you can thrust rhythmically, your pace familiar. 

The chorus of moans is broken when Kyle breathes out nice and easy, “Can I ride you?” You nod, sitting back on your heels to stretch out some of the tightness in your muscles before laying down on your back, hands instantly resting on Kyle’s waist when he straddles you, grinding his ass against your hard cock. 

He only stops when your hips rutt up, the grip on his skin tightening. With one hand he reaches back, pumping your slick cock a few times before lining himself up, this time his hole stretching willingly as he sinks down, hands moving to rest on your chest. 

Kyle isn’t as subtle as he thinks - fingers tracing down your stomach as he takes in your dishevelled state, and heat pools in his lower back when he thinks how you, someone so large that you could pin him down and use him as a toy if you wanted, is willing to roll onto your back and let him bounce on top of you, taking the pleasure he wanted, needed, all while holding him and encouraging him to move, letting him go at his own pace.

[emitheesimmer]

Thread: BHMCAS Challenge

Days 15-27

Day 15 // Black Sitcom - Living Single: (l to r) Kyle Barker, Maxine Shaw "Attorney at Law," Khadijah James, Regine Hunter, Synclaire James-Jones, and Overton Wakefield Jones

Day 16 // 90s: Shawn Stockman (forgot to write down his info smh 🤦🏽‍♀️ but he was inspired by Shawn Stockman of Boyz II Men)

Day 17 // Coquette: Renni Ridley / Perfectly Pristine / Good, Neat, Proper

Day 18 // Royalty: Grand Duchess Miliani / Successful Lineage / Proper, Loyal, Family-oriented

Day 19 // City Girl: Kelsie Ruffin / City Native / Materialistic, Non-committal, Out-going

Day 20 // Old Hollywood: Dottie Bryant / Master Actress / Overachiever, Romantic, Ambitious

Day 21 // Mystical: Amina Giles (Spellcaster) / Spellcraft & Sorcery / Creative, Hot-headed, Perfectionist

Day 22 // Black Icon: Sade Adu / Musical Genius / Creative, Music Lover, Art Lover

Day 23 // Church Fashion: Deborah Riggs / Neighborhood Confidante / Generous, Proper, Cheerful

Day 24 // Model/Runway: Sloane Samuels / World Celebrity / Self-assured, Ambitious, Insider

Day 25 // Carnival: Sonya StJohn / The Curator / Dance Machine, Child of the Islands, Party Animal

Day 26 // Black Occult: Nathaneal Owens (Vampire) / Master Chef / Foodie, Hot-headed, Non-committal

Day 27 // Old Money/Vintage: Harper Humphries and Mochi / Fabulously Wealthy / Old Money, Snob, Kleptomaniac

[cl0wnc4rzz]

oh PLEASE talk about your McCormick family hcs

YES OMG OKAY

so just letting yk that i am... not sure how to format this 😭 and i do have a tendency to ramble so very sorry if this is messy 💔

starting off w kevin :^)

as teens, kevin and kenny pick up a lot of jobs together. these two have worked all over the place!! especially kevin, who's dropped out of high school so he could work more hours.

related to the hc above!! kenny has thought about dropping out just like his older brother but kev basically won't let him lol. wants to see his younger siblings succeed.

as soon as he's able to, kev plans to leave his parents' house and plans to take his siblings with him as well.

he often avoids just 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 home because his parents are complete assholes. it's smth that pisses kenny off immensely, even if he's guilty of the same thing sometimes. still, ken wishes he'd be there when things get rough rather than just leave him and their sister to deal with it

kenny!!

lord i have so many kenny hcs but i'll try to keep this exclusively mccormick family related

i kind stole this one from frazier uhm. if u see this frazier hi. but as soon as kev realizes ken is into stan he will not stop teasing him about it 😭 calls stan nicknames like "edward" or "L" when referring to him to kenny. ie: "hey ken when's gerard way comin over". kenny's genuinely amazed by the amount of nicknames he comes up with

HE 👏 IS 👏 KAREN'S 👏 BIGGEST 👏 FAN👏 ....he has a wall in his room dedicated to drawings, bracelets, or whatever karen's made for him!!

kenny's parka is a hand-me-down from kevin. in fact, a good chunk of his closet is hand-me-downs. the jacket itself is way to big on him so it lasts him quite a while but by the time he outgrows it that thing is on it's last thread lol

kenny has and always will be shorter than kevin. was genuinely shocked when karen ended up growing taller than him too, even if by a little LOL

kev taught him how to drive!! unfortunately they share a car and since kev is rarely home he rarely gets the chance to drive it... not that he minds much. stan, kyle, and cartman usually drive him around anyways

last but not least, karen :3

constantly babied by the other 2 even into her teen years. was fine as a little kid but eventually it kinda drives her insane, makes her feel like they don't take her seriously

about freshman year of high school she decides she wants to get raccoon stripes!! her and kenny sat around watching a couple tutorials before he helped her dye them

HER AND KENNY LOVE TO GOSSIP!! even tho they are in different grades and age groups, these 2 love sharing w each other what's happening w ppl the other prob doesn't even know 😭 kenny is out here hating on random 9th graders he doesn't even know LOL

because of their age gap, kevin often feels more like a father figure to karen than a brother, especially with how little their own father does for them

this post is already very long so i'm gonna stop there 😭 but hi yes i care a lot about the mccormicks

[thestarminstrel]

Aside from nichoji and eugesse, are there any other fence characters that you are interested in?

I’m personally fond of the Leventis twins from Exton :)

aklsjlf i love that i'm so obvious in my love for those four- i should really start giving some love to the other guys

first off, i also love the leventis twins!!! i love the sunshine and grumpy twin dynamic so much and it's so cute on them 😭 i do hope we get to see more of them in upcoming issues. on that thread i also love marcel a lot. just love the exton team so much 💛

outside of them, kyle,,, listen he showed up in whatever the fuck volume/issue (not the first one tho) and i went "oh he's annoying as f u c k and i love him. rip to the fandom" (like. for context my friends and i will watch something and some Annoying mfer comes on and they all Look at me bc they know i'm adopting them as my blorbo. and then they're right.). then @applesandbannas747 fanned that flame so passing "oh haha annoying dude :)" went to "b a b y g i r l".

coach brooks also has my whole damn heart. she's so spectacular and ugh 💛 incredible woman. would love to know if she's just a chill fencer or someone insanely impressive and nonchalant about it. robert also has been a fav of mine for a long time. tbf most of that love IS just hcs and fanfic roberts and i will be So Sad if robert is some fame-obsessed, terrible and horrible father. hopefully, robert gets cool points and i don't need to be sad about him 👍🏻

suCH an honorable mention to the weightlifting bros from striking distance i will carry them with me in my heart forever. again, totally fandom and hc-based reading of them and i know i am. never seeing them in the comic. consider that i am silly 😎

thank you for the ask!! 💛 hope you enjoyed your little visit into the depraved landscape that is my fence-filled brain uwu

[librarianrafia]

"Two threads run through Filterworld: one is the Mechanical Turk; the other is the technology of algorithms themselves. The mathematics at play are old. There is an algorithm written on a Babylonian tablet dated to sometime between 1800 and 1600 BCE. Apparently it can determine the square root of integers with a very high level of accuracy. (I haven’t tested it because that’s not how I make my money.) We didn’t get a name for algorithms until a couple thousand years later, when European scholars translated Kitab al-Jabr wa-l-Muqabala (“The Compendious Book on Calculation by Completion and Balancing”), the landmark work of Persian mathematician al-Khwarizmi, from Arabic to Latin. Those researchers also Latinized al-Khwarizmi’s name to “Algoritmi,” which was then used to describe mathematical processes. We also get the word “algebra” from the book’s shortened title (Al-Jabr). The Mechanical Turk was retired in the 19th century, but Chayka considers the technological novelty a rough metaphor for the current state of things. “Algorithmic recommendations are the latest iteration of the Mechanical Turk: a series of human decisions that have been dressed up and automated as technological ones, at an inhuman scale and speed,” he argues early in Filterworld. Mechanical Turk is also the name of Amazon’s low-wage job service, where technology companies can hire armies of workers to do mundane tasks to give their platforms the illusion of automation. Silicon Valley hasn’t figured out how to scale irony yet, I suppose. Chayka considers our modern Mechanical Turk and finds it less a parlor trick than an attempt at mass hypnosis. “Designed and maintained by the engineers of monopolistic tech companies, and running on data that we users continuously provide by logging in each day, the technology is both constructed by us and dominates us, manipulating our perceptions and attention,” he writes. “The algorithm always wins.”"

Drowning in Mediocre Data: On Kyle Chayka’s “Filterworld”

By T. M. BrownJanuary 19, 2024

[willyoustilllovemeifimbroken]

Kyle blushed, realizing what he meant. "I uh... are you sure?" He asks, looking up at him. "I-I mean I'd love to. I'm just a little shy and inexperienced. I hope I live up to the way you're looking at me." He says obvious, shy blush on his face. Gently, he took the other's massive hand in his own. His warm palm touched Kyle's slender one with his nimble fingers threading together with the hunk's. "L-lead the way, Axel.

@damienstarrk

Kyle was brought to a gay club by some friends. But it wasn't really his scene. He didn't drink or party and he was getting tired of this. He was on his way to bar for some water when he slipped on someone's spilled drink. But before he could fall he was caught and brought into a semi dance like dip. Opening his eyes upon hearing a "Hi" with a thick French Canadian accent. Blushing at the sexy buff and shirtless man who saved him. "H-hi. Uh... thank you for saving me?"

[felincsircn-moved]

.

[flklass]

COMICS MUSES.

BOBBI MORSE

DINAH LAUREL LANCE

HELENA WAYNE

JESSICA CRUZ

KYLE RAYNER

LOIS LANE

ROY HARPER

SNOW WHITE-WOLF

[phoebehalliwell]

how would you rank the seasons from least to most favourite?

alright okay right off the bat worst season season 7. for starters i think this season has no staying power i mean like since i’ve been running this blog 4 so long now my knowledge of charmed is encyclopedic and insanely vast more than like it ever need be but for the longest time. i could not remember season 7. like wtf even happened there?? evidently leo became human??? cole returned? the avatars??? like all of it was just. it’s not even necessarily forgettable it’s just i straight up could not remember it for the longest time. and i’ve said it before the concept of utopia was way to advanced for a show like charmed to tackle i am not watching charmed for moral philosophy i am watching bc i love these girls ♥ hee hee hoo hoo magic adventure ✨ tho if i am to offer a single comment on utopia: it’s awfully rich for a show to go on about destiny and fate and then take a stand against utopia in the name of free will. but w/e. i don’t like leo in the avatars i don’t like his dynamic with piper in this season i don’t like whatever phoebe’s doing this season there’s like leslie?? maybe there’s someone else? boring & flavorless they should have been setting up her endgame instead of puttering around. and kyle. zoo wee mama. could have been a great antihero. morally gray. duplicitous. self serving. but no. they gave him all those traits and called him hero/love interest. s7 left a lot to be desired out of the characters and their relationships also gave us phat L’s such as the charmed ones are werewolves don’t worry about it and feminism peaked with naked women. shout out to zankou: demon, dilf, dub & the noir episode.

you know what? fuck it i’ll say it second worse season 5 genuinely fuck season five. this is probably a Very Specific beef 2 me But. i hate what they did to the charmed universe. this was the season that marked the transition of charmed from supernatural drama to campy soap which like. i love camp! i do! but fr. fuck this season and what it did to the worldbuilding. the early season have Such A Vibe to them man with warlocks and witches and just a couple niche monsters from assorted lore that the show took and made their own. season five opens with mermaids goes directly into fairytales then gives us superheros whatever the fuck was going on in that mummy episode the sandman leprechauns and nymphs. and i hate it for that. it takes away from this urban fantasy things that go bump in the night what lurks in the shadows of the back alleys of san francisco in favor of the ugliest cinderella dress ever put to television and an onslaught of horrible irish accents for a full episode. other issues with season five: cole’s still here? why? they don’t know and neither will you! we’re not redeeming him! phoebe’s not getting back together with him! yes he died we just refuse to let him go! the cherry on top of course being a cole-centric 100th episode. shout out to. hmm. lemme think about what i actually liked about this season. i like jason dean as a love interest i don’t remember what he did in s5 but i know he was there. the season finale i’ve talked about how stupid & shitty it was but idc i still love that episode and then shout out to bacarra the only original villain this season that was a proper serve. the crone gets second place.

next on this come on we all saw it coming season 8. it’s a bad season! and i get bts there was a whole lot happening budget cuts missing actor etc. but it goes beyond that. it was a bad season. billie and christie were bad. and i’ve said this before but billie in herself is not an inherently bad character. she was just the literal worst for the show. she was a dollar store buffy blonde confident cocky skilled and ready 2 fight evil But. we are not following her like we followed buffy we are following her mentors. it’s like if we had a show called giles that aired for seven seasons And Then buffy showed up. billie was insanely irritating to watch from our perspective and in general wasn’t like. well written. attempts to humanize her / give her more depth often fell flat. and then christy. oh nelly. oh my god. barely a character. not well acted but hey it would have been a miracle if she was. negatives include dumain who was a mess omg bringing back the triad bringing back the source billie & christy obvi and also involving homeland security. which is season 7′s fault which is why it’s the worst. dubs on the other hand include both coop and henry i really liked them the shoehorned love interests weren’t great but i like their characters i though the way the got rid of leo to save on the budget was really creative and gave us a great piper episode and of course the sugary sweet finale i love it i do what can i say.

yet another controversial choice aptly coming in fourth is season 4. i respect what season 4 set out to do. i think it was a good idea. long form narratives, keeping a darker tone, focusing on character-driven drama and growth. too bad it fucking failed miserably at all of this. cole as the source and phoebe as the queen of hell was just so so botched. they had a very unique opportunity following the death of prue to explore these characters and what it means to them to be charmed, to be witches. they saved the world but the cost is insanely high. they’ve lost an older sister. they’ve gained a new sister. how do you even begin to cope with all this? episodes such as hell hath no fury and brain drain fuck so hard because they work with exactly that. had the whole season been like those episode season four would sit at number one with flying colors absolutely no competition. but alas. we can’t have nice things. the show got so bogged down with phoebe & cole, in a way that was just so, so messy. for starters, whether you loved cole or hated him before, we can all agree source!cole sucked. he was such a strong 180 from what we had seen that the show had to make the source some type of possession to justify half the shit they were trying to pull. and then to pit phoebe and paige against one another over a man was just. disgusting. and the ending of course felt rushed because it was! they wrapped up that entire issue in a nice little bow much faster than they reasonably should have been able to. it could have been a great season. it was definitely not. shout out to the seer an iconic mastermind on barbas levels, as previously stated brain drain and hell hath no fury Specific shout out to piper’s scene at prue’s grave shout out to paige as a character i like what they did with her and um. yeah that’s it.

okay we’re exiting the shit tier in favorite of the good tier welcome to the upper half. kicking us off is season 6. season 6 did what season 4 could not in that it gave us a long form plot that still left plenty of room for like. normal demon of the week episodes. i love phoebe early in this season with her faboo haircut her brand new empathy power and her relationship with jason dean. obvious strikes against for whatever the fuck that baby crazy stint was and also the mata hari episode. yikes. i love paige’s hair color in this season nothing paige as a character necessarily stands out to me however i like how they seem to have hit the blend of work-magic with paige where she wants a life and career outside of magic however she still loves the craft and embraces is with an open heart and mind. season six also gives us chris who was a very fun male lead imo we really didn’t have many like him he’s bitchy. he whines and bitches a lot he’s got an agenda he’s a bit secretive but at the end of the day he just wants a family i like him. i like the character growth we see out of piper i like seeing her try to move on from leo i love seeing her get back together with leo i like her dynamic with chris and her fears about motherhood. i also liked richard but that one takes a lot of justification. L’s are witchstock hyde school reunion used karma off the top of my head also the paige/richard/addiction plotline was so tone deaf. also the girls were mean to darryl : ( he deserved so much better. dubs were chris as a character, tbh the episode little monsters, phoebe with empathy specifically saying i love you too to jason i could write a dissertation on that line alone also the courtship of wyatt’s father and i thought the reveals of evil wyatt and chris being piper and leo’s son were both fun and interesting plot twists.

coming in third is actually season 2 a season i really do love it’s just. it lacks structure. imo there is a lot to love about season 2 morality bites and pardon my past are both delightful time travel episodes we get jack sheridan and bane jessup two of my personal favorite prue love interests we get p3 h2o and a great prue plotline regarding the death of patty we get the super cute cupid episode it’s a great. collection of episodes. it’s not a great season. there’s just imo not a strong enough thread connecting the stories together it’s mainly held together by having the same characters in it over and over again i really liked dan personally but like. i knew we were wasting time there. he was just an obstacle. a super cute loving and caring obstacle who’s great with kids but lbr piper and leo were always endgame. wasting our time on dan was stupid. i do love the sister dynamics in season two “gotta hand it to those pesky little demons they sure have brought us closer together” but again. this season could have benefitted from a rex and hannah type or even like a cole or zankou. this season is less of a season and more of just like a handful of episodes, and while there are some fat dubs, there are also some definite swings & misses. shout out to the time travel episodes the prue centric episodes phoebe’s character growth and maturity throughout this season (e.g. her going back to college) and i also think the fashion got a lot more fun this season.

second place i’m saying season one season one was a really strong start and gave us these really compelling characters with interesting relationships between one another But. a lot of it just kinda falls flat. and credit where credit is due it was a brand new show getting its feet under it but the fourth sister feats of clay which prue is it anyway they just simply aren’t dubs imo. also i don’t like that 70′s episode bc again i am an asshole concerned about The Lore i can’t believe one bitch ass warlock caused the Charmed Ones to grow up without powers. it just really bugs me. all in all the plots as a whole like aren’t great imo they’re nothing to write home about (save for from fear to eternity) it’s really the characters that make this season so goddamn good.

first place congratulations to the one the only season three. this is just because it kinda hits all my requirements in that it has some banger one offs (e.g. all halliwell’s eve, the good, the bad, and the cursed) it has an overarching plot at the exact same time as the source becomes more prominent and obvi cole is also there with murderous intent i like the character growth we see especially from prue i like piper and leo finally get married overall i really like the aesthetic of this season that blends a darker urban fantasy tone with still some charmed fashion and whimsy. strikes against tbh phoebe and cole’s relationship i am insanely picky with my enemies to lovers and the do not come remotely close to cutting the mustard in fact they are almost immediately disqualified however from afar i can see and respect The Drama. shout out to recasting victor prue with pistols death as a character and shannen directing episodes

[adoracats]

HORDE KIDS

part 1 << part 2 < part 3 > part 4

[image 1: Catra’s twitter profile. 

Banner: a black background patterned with the rip n dip cat (a smirking white cat giving the middle finger)

Icon: A close-up photo of a girl with a mane of curly brown hair leaning her face in her hand, looking bored at the camera.

Title: c·a·t·r·a

Status: edit profile

Twitter handle: @catrapplsauce

Bio: “shit”

23 Following, 18.9K Followers]

[image 2: Scorpia’s twitter profile. 

Banner: a yellow background with the phrase “just enjoy where you are now” in black text

Icon: A profile shot of girl with pixie-cut white hair. She’s wearing a white and black striped sweater, holding her bangs in her face as she looks down.

Title: Scorpia

Status: following / follows you

Twitter handle: @scorpiaxo

Bio: “Scorpia · she/her; Pre-med human biology major; I’m a hugger 🤗”

Location: Brightmoon University

758 Following, 26.5K Followers]

[image 3: Entrapta’s twitter profile

Banner: a blue-purple night sky with distant stars

Icon: WALL-E from Pixar

Title: ENTRAPTA

Status: verified / following / follows you

Twitter handle: @entrapta

Bio: “⚠️WARNING: EXPLOSIONS!⚠️; LAB PARTNER: @lordhordak”

Location: Brightmoon University

5,141 Following, 33.6K Followers]

[image 4: Lonnie’s twitter profile

Banner: a black screen with a buffering “loading” symbol

Icon: A close-up shot of a girl with curly black hair sitting on a bench. She’s leaning on her fist and staring off to the side with a small smile.

Title: L

Status: following / follows you

Twitter handle: @lonnoiee

Bio: “goddamn it kyle”

95 Following, 16.9K Followers]

[image 5: Rogelio’s twitter profile

Banner: default Twitter banner

Icon: default Twitter icon

Title: 🦎

Status: following / follows you

Twitter handle: @rogellno

Bio: “deaf. was a lizard in a past life.”

Location: Brightmoon University

Link: instagram

362 Following, 25.8K Followers]

[image 6: Kyle’s twitter profile

Banner: A screencap from Lilo and Stitch of Lilo laying forlornly on the ground. On the bottom there is white text that says “Leave me alone to die.”

Icon: A close-up photo of a blond boy. He is holding onto his bangs with a pale hand, obscuring his entire face from view.

Title: kyle

Status: following / follows you

Twitter handle: @pankyle

Bio: “😅”

481 Following, 14.2K Followers]

[image 7: Tweet from Entrapta

“EXPERIMENT LOG #241: FIRST DAY OF MY GRANT-FUNDED RESEARCH AT BRIGHTMOON UNIVERSITY. EVERYTHING IN HERE IS SO HIGH-TECH! HORDAK STOPPED ME FROM TAKING APART THE REFRIGERATOR. WILL REVISIT THAT LATER.

[photo of a sleek, high-tech lab with lots of electronics and equipment]”

Published at 07:56 AM on 08/24/2020, Twitter for iPhone]

[image 8: Tweet from Scorpia

“First day of transfer orientation at Brightmoon!!! Got up bright and early and I am READY for the day! 🥳.”

Published at 09:29 AM on 08/24/2020, Twitter for iPhone

45 Retweets, 586 Likes]

[image 9: Twitter thread

Main tweet: Lonnie

“@pankyle tried to impress @rogellno with a skateboard trick. Three guesses what happened. #kylefail”

Published at 04:07 PM on 08/24/2020, Twitter for iPhone

94 retweets, 12K likes

Reply 1: Kyle replying to @lonnoiee

2 hours ago

Broke three fingers :’)

436 retweets, 7.3K likes

Reply 2: Rogelio replying to @lonnoiee

2 hours ago

“The skateboard’s ok”

872 retweets, 8.6K likes (liked by user)]

[image 10: Tweet from Catra

“can everyone just shut up forever”

Published at 01:30 PM on 08/24/2020

4.5K retweets, 8.5K likes]

[lady-moonbroch]

Ikemen Revolution HC: NSFW Alphabet

Fandom: Ikémen Revolution (All suitors)

Genre: NSFW +18 

Black Army ♠️

Ray: Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

As King of Spades he needs to keep a level head and a clear mind, but when his lover is in sight his mind flees to her. As little as the movements she makes when she fixes her hair, unveiling the nape of her delicate neck is enough to cast a spell of desire on him.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: his jade eyes. For they are blessed with her smile, every moment of the day.

His lover’s: her lobe. He loves to tease her relentlessly, nibbling and biting it as he whispers in her ear, having her squirm within his arms.

Sirius:

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on what his little lady desires. He can do both. He will make love to his lover slowly, professing his love in whispers as he worships every part of her body. Or he can toss her on the bed and make her forget how to spell her name.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

His love for flowers reflects on this aspect as well. The Lotus Blossom position is both pretty in name as well as intimate and sensual. It can also work both in rough sex as well as slow and sensual. Others: On the edge of his desk or against a wall or seesaw position -or Ascend to Desire pose- (this man is beast 1212)

Luka:

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Small moans and grunts escape him, getting louder when he’s near. Overall as quiet as always, possibly uttering his lover’s name as he is lost in bliss after his climax.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He’s the sweetest bean and we all trust our angel is indeed romantic and affectionate in his love-making.

Fenrir:

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

This man is a human pretzel, of course he will be goofy in such moments too. And it’s endearing and comfortable and sweet.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

As long as his lover is willing, he’d be down on his knees to do anything to please her. Something he would definitely like to try is gun-play, both on him and her.

Seth:

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Oh ho I wonder..👀

I believe he is indeed experience. This man is full of surprises afterall.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

The man himself is a wild-card really. Seth is the most mysterious member of the Black Army and is a master of knives and secret weapons. Guessed it yet? The 10 of Spades is definitely into knife-play and sensory deprivation and has a surprisingly dominant nature.

Red Army ❤️

Lancelot:

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The King is a master in his trade when it comes to teasing his lover. He will edge her, over and over again, before he’ll endulge her

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Of course he loves to be pleased by his precious lover but he is just as capable in returning the favour. He enjoys the Goddess position to please his beloved, letting her take the lead before he makes her succumb to him.

Jonah:

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

I’ve seen that he is into shibari. Just imagine the mighty Queen of Hearts wrapped with bright red thread.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

You can be certain the carpet matches the drapes. Nothing less than perfection, always groomed and well kept.

Edgar:

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Edgar has all too many dirty secrets, but one he might never admit would be that he’d gladly have his prodigy join him and his lover in bed. He’d be only he’d ever allow.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

This “Gentle Demon” we are talking about, of course there will be toys (probably ones to use on his lover). Whips, blindfolds, silk ribbons but his creative mind will make a tool of torture out of anything really (see: ice).

Zero:

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

“Please DO NOT bring Edgar to bed”

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Before his beloved entered his life he never felt the need to do it, often at least. Now -although he prefers his loved one’s company- his thoughts often stray to her, reminiscing the feel of her skin, her taste swirling on his tongue like the sweetest candy, all these feelings swelling in his chest leads him to “relieve” himself within the day in order to focus on his tasks.

Kyle:

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

His work is more or less 24/7 (being a doctor is hard) so any change for some intimate time with his beloved is precious to him. So quickies are definitely a thing with this cute dork.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

My guess would be the infirmary. MC and Kyle both work there and the kinky vibe as well as the risk of being caught only adds fuel to the fire.

Neutral 🕰

Blanc:

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

This man is both a lady killer and has many years on his back (maybe he too has a time curse), so we can all put a bet that Blanc knows how to treat a lady and has all the admonition in his camp to sent his lover to heaven and back.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s the “White Rabbit”, meaning he’s pace is most likely quick and hard. Although I believe he will start of sensual and romantic to set the mood and then pick up the pace.

Oliver:

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

This is Oliver we are talking about, so spanking and asserting his dominance over his lover is a given. Also, he’s likely to participate in a Dom/Sub play.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Be sure he will tease his lover to tears, and then give drown you in pleasure. His lover’s both hates and loves his teasing.

Harr:

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Harr is shy and such a sweet dork, so I’m guessing he likes to cum inside his lover (for it’s more endearing) or anywhere she will allow him to. Also, he likes to watch his lover swallow it when she’s pleasuring him, it sends him straight in heaven.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

This sweetheart will take care of his lover like she’s the most precious treasure. He will carry her in his arms, bathe and dry her, comb her hair and lull her to sleep in his arms, keeping her safe and warm and loved.

Loki:

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

This sweet kitten is needy AF. He’s yearning for his lover 24/7 and has a HIGH sex drive and need to feel her.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depending if he is tired, if yes he will fall asleep right away, cuddling close with his lover. If not he will watch her fall asleep and gaze at her lovingly until the sound of her breath lulls him to sleep.

[fatehbaz]

Compilation of thoughts on apocalypse; dystopia; better futures; resurgence; contemplated during first week of pandemic quarantine.

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

Johnnie Jae, with Rebecca Roanhorse, Elizabeth LaPensee, and Darcie Little Badger. “Decolonizing Science Fiction and Imagining Futures: An Indigenous Futures Roundtable.” Strange Horizons. January 2017.

We have survived an apocalypse and with every generation our future continues to grow more hopeful. As we continue to preserve and reclaim our identities, traditions, languages, lands, water, resources, and values in the face of every new threat, the future looks more and more beautiful. As for what that actually looks like, […] I would like to add that I imagine that those future generations are no longer living in survival mode the way that we are now. I like to imagine that we have done our job, that we have sacrificed and done everything in our power to keep the wheels of healing turning that our future generations are well. I like to imagine that they are living without the feeling of urgency that we feel in every decision and move we make, that they are thriving and moving forward with calm deliberation.

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

Ursula K. Le Guin. No Time to Spare: Thinking About What Matters. 2017.

These are some thoughts about utopia and dystopia. The old, crude Good Places were compensatory visions of controlling what you couldn’t control and having what you didn’t have here and now  –  an orderly, peaceful heaven; a paradise of hours; pie in the sky. The way to them was clear, but drastic. You died. Ever since, utopia has been located not in the afterlife but just off the map, across the ocean, over the mountains, in the future, on another planet, a livable yet unattainable elsewhere. […] [L]ong-term survival [...] involves acceptance of impermanence and imperfection, a patience with uncertainty and the makeshift, a friendship with water, darkness, and the earth.

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Hugo Reinert. “The Haunting Cliffs: Some Notes on Silence.” Parallax. 2018.

On the neighbouring island group of Rost, for example, the nesting population of Atlantic Puffins has plunged from some 1.5 million pairs in 1979 to around 300,000 in 2017 [...]. What did the colonies here sound like, in their day? [...] The absence of birds becomes something spectral. [...] Mark Fisher analysed the uncanny affect of eeriness as the effect of a ‘crisis of presence’ […]. It could also arise from a failure of presence – in the experience of an unexplained nothing where there should be something: a ship at sea without its crew, say; an abandoned city, streets unexpectedly empty; a coastline without birds, perhaps, or a cliff-face full of abandoned nests. […]

The silence is real, the populations plunge and the colonies are collapsing – but its absoluteness was a trick of the light […]. I nearly convinced myself that this was the silence I had come for: an absolute silence, echoing with the absence of dead birds in the aftermath of some all-encompassing catastrophe; a simplified caricature, terminal and abstract. […] One trap among many – mistaking one silence for another, yielding to apocalyptic fantasy. The cataclysm may be unfolding but the silences that threaded this space were more complex, richer […]. They issued from a place that was reduced but not destroyed – impoverished, perhaps, but also still alive, neither lifeless nor (yet) fully devastated. They opened, in other words, on the myriad entangled possibilities of damage and survival, partial loss, recuperation, mutation, and resurgence; of life continuing but in other forms, under other circumstances.

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

Melanie K. Yazzie. “Decolonizing Development in Dine Bikeyah: Resource Extraction, Anti-Capitalism, and Relational Futures.” Environment and Society. September 2018.

Indigenous feminist and Dine land defenders […] draw connections between the everyday lived material realities of environmental violence and larger structures of colonialism [and] capitalism […]. These connections are key for understanding the politics of life espoused by Big Mountain matriarchs like Whitesinger and Ruth Benally that emerged to contest these material realities of environmental violence and death […]. The land-based paradigm that emerged from the context of these women’s resistance to forced removal had, at its center […] both an unwavering critique of the almost totalizing death that extractive practices represented […] and a framework for Dine conceptions of life rooted in one’s relationships with the land and responsibilities to life-giving forces and beings like sheep, corn, family […] an entire web of relations that have specific connections to specific places.

In other words, through the act of resisting forced removal, these women enacted a politics of life that was both defensive (as in to defend life against the destruction of extraction) and generative (as in to caretake life through an ethos and practice of kinship obligation).

This dual move of defending and caretaking relational life is at the heart of the Dine concept of k’e, which is still widely practiced[…] Our decolonial aspirations are not just about sovereignty and exerting independence over energy development […]. Our politics of […] decolonization must thus not only act as a form of resistance to the death drive of capitalism and settler colonialism, but also function as a vehicle for imagining a politics of life that will refuse death and instead secure a future for all our relations.

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

Kyle Whyte. “Indigenous science (fiction) for the Anthropocene: Ancestral dystopias and fantasies of climate change crises.” May 2018.

Danika Medak-Saltzman writes, in her analysis of Indigenous science fiction, gender and futurism, that “Indigenous futurist work can and does also explore a variety of dystopian possibilities, which [...] aid us in our efforts to imagine our way out of our present dystopic moment to call forth better futures” […]. Consider the work of Salma Monani in her analysis of Danis Goulet’s science fiction movie Wakening. […] Goulet sets this story in the dystopian times of the occupiers. In the film, the protagonists are women and nonhumans who have to figure out how to relate to each other again […]. Both protagonists occupy social identities that are disrespected or villainized in Canadian or U.S. settler colonialism, whether owing to gender, Indigeneity or being nonhuman. […] Of course, the solution to surviving the dystopia lies in the reciprocal responsibility of both protagonists to work together in ways that honor each other. [W]hat becomes apparent is the importance of reestablishing a relationship of reciprocal responsibility between the two protagonists, and emphasizing diverse gendered and nonhuman agencies […].

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

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 20

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​,  @innerpaperexpertcloud​

Every Saturday morning Millie has him up at the crack of dawn; a habit she’d developed after their first weekend back in Australia, when she pestered him awake, insisting he watch the sunrise with her. Six months later he can still remember the look of awe and wonder on her face; those blue eyes impossibly wide, her mouth hanging open in shock, hands clasped tightly against her chest. It became their ‘thing’. Sitting out on the back patio and watching as the sun came up, having breakfast and then heading down to the beach. If the conditions were right and the winds not too strong and the waves not too challenging, he’d take her surfing; she’d been a natural from the start, confident, expressing no fear or hesitation. She even had her own board: a custom job that he’d let her pick out and choose the colors and designs she wanted on it.  If things weren’t cooperating, they’d take Mac for a walk along the beach and throw things in the water for him to retrieve. Millie would collect rocks, shells and all the beach glass she could possibly find; adding everything to the already expansive collection she kept in shoe boxes under her bed.  Or they’d take a hike through the woods that bordered their property, and she’d use his phone to take pictures of any wildlife and ‘cool looking stuff’ they’d stumble upon.

It’s their time together. Before all her siblings are awake and the chaos of the day begins. Just shy of six years old and despite her penchant for profanity and fighting, she’s insanely intelligent and well spoken; introspective and wise, oddly intuitive for someone so young.  More like her mother than anyone realizes. And he cherishes their alone time. She’s not his first born; no one could ever replace Austin. But she’s the first in his new life; a living reminder of the second chance that he’s given.  A beautiful, amazing little soul that had been created during quite possibly the craziest and most difficult time of his life; in the midst of all the loss and the destruction that Dhaka had brought with it. An accident maybe, not but a mistake. Their bond is profound, stronger than the others. He’d been with her from the go after all, when she was still being carried inside of her mother’s body. When she was a baby, he hadn’t gotten back into the job yet. There’d been no leaving in the middle of the night, no being absent for days and often weeks.  And he’d been so grateful to be given another shot at being a father that he’d devoted every waking moment to her.

After the sunrise she helps him make breakfast; standing on one of the kitchen chairs she pushes right up against the stove. The same thing she has him make every Saturday: pancakes topped with fresh fruit and syrup. Proud of herself when she gets the responsibility of mixing the batter and ladling it onto the griddle. Talking his ear off the entire time the food cooks; the dreams she’d had during the night,, everything she’d learned in school that week, all the different activities she and her friends had engaged in during gym and recess. All bright eyed and cheerful, a stark comparison to his more sullen and quiet morning mood. But he humors her. Like always. Offering up nods or small comments at the appropriate times, sympathetic scowls or shakes of the head when she’d complain about something she found wildly unfair or particularly disturbing.   When all the food is prepared and they’re ready to head outside to eat, she throws her arms around his neck and squeezes as tight as she can.  And when she says “I love you daddy” in that little voice of hers, everything seems perfect and right in the world.

Breakfast is finished and he’s on his second coffee of the morning when she speaks again.  Her thick, unruly hair tumbling down the sides of her face and to the middle of her back as she sits across from him; feet up on the seat and her Hello Kitty pajama top pulled over skinned and bruised knees.  Those blue eyes dark and serious, her brow furrowed.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it true you almost died?”

Tyler watches her over the top of his mug, lips pressed against the rim.  She’s already perfected the poker face, not even the slightest hint of emotion. And she suddenly seems so much older and mature than her actual age.  

“The other night when we saw Auntie Nik and Uncle Kyle,” she continues.  “Mommy said you almost died. Is that true?”

Fuck, he silently curses.  It had been bad enough dealing with the fallout of Ovi telling her about his ‘real job’; that the reason he went away so often was because he was ‘helping get good people away from bad people’.  The nightmares had lasted for two months; she’d wake up screaming in terror, often wetting her bed, sometimes even throwing up.  But now this? His own brush with death was something he’d hoped to not have to touch on until she was much older. If ever.

“It is,” he confesses. “I did almost die.”

“The bad guys hurt you?”

He nods.

“How? How did they hurt you?”

“You don’t need to know those things. Maybe when you’re older I’ll tell you. But you’re too young to hear all of that.”

“But it was really bad,” she states.

“Yeah. It was really bad.”

Her expression remains neutral, eyes fixed on her fingers as they fidget with a loose piece of thread on the hem of her night shirt.  “Mommy was there too?”

“Mommy was there,” he confirms. “She helped me. So I wouldn’t die.”

“So she’s a hero?”

“I think so. She’s my hero, at least.”

Millie smiles at that. Then quickly turns serious again; those deep lines in her forehead returning, eyes darkening once more.  “If you died, I wouldn’t be here. And neither would TJ or Tanner or Declan or Addie.”

“You would still be here. You were going to be here whether I died or not. You were already in mommy’s tummy.”

“Did you know? That I was in there.”

Tyler shakes his head. “I didn’t know. Neither did mommy.”

“How come? How come you didn’t know?”

“The doctor hadn’t told us yet,” it seems like the easiest and most logical explanation for a child to grasp. “We didn’t find out until a little while later that we were having you.”

“So if you died, mommy would have been all alone when she found out about me? She would have had to have me all by herself? With no daddy in the room?”

He manages a nod, finding himself fighting back his own wave of emotion. It’s something he doesn’t think about often; if he’d died and Esme would have been left to handle everything on her own. How she would have felt finding out that she was carrying the baby of a dead man. With nothing more than those five days in Dhaka to remember him by.

“That’s sad,” Millie’s voice is a near whisper, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Poor mommy.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Or if there’s anything he can say. No wise or helpful words of comfort that can heal that particular wound.  Especially when flooded with his own emotions: sadness, regret, guilt. That he’d ever put Esme in that situation in the first place.

Millie rebounds quickly; brushing the tears off her cheeks with the backs of her hands and tucking her hair behind her ears. “Were you happy?” she asks. “When you found out that I was in mommy’s tummy?”

“Yeah...” he takes a swig of coffee. “...I was happy. Surprised. But happy.”

“A good surprise?”

He smiles. “A very good surprise.”

“Because you were sad before, right? Because Austin died. And he was you first baby. I’m the second.”

“You’re my first too. You’re my first with your mom. That still counts. And yeah, I was happy because I was getting a second chance to be a dad. Your mommy gave me that chance. So did you. Did you know that I used to talk to you all the time? When you were in mommy’s tummy.”

Her eyes and her voice brighten. “You did?”

Tyler nods. “I used to put my hand on mommy’s stomach and you’d always kick it. I used to tell you all kinds of stuff. About all the thing we were going to get to do together. About how awesome it was going to be take you to beach and teach you how to surf. About how much I loved you and couldn’t wait to meet you.”

“Mommy said that you got to meet me first. When I was born.”

“I did. I was the very first person that doctor gave you to.”

“Did you cry?”

“I did,” he admits. “More than you did, I think. You were kind of quiet, actually. You were just looking around at everyone and everything with those big blue eyes.”

“What did I look like?”

“You were really small. Not as small as Addie though. You were three pounds heavier than her. And you had tons of hair. A little darker than it is now.”

“Was I cute?”

“The cutest baby ever.”

“Did I look like you or mommy?”

“Would I say you were the cutest baby ever if you looked like your mom? Come on now.”

“Daddy!” she scolds. “That’s mean. Mommy is very pretty.”

“She is. You’re the cutest baby ever and she’s the prettiest mommy ever. But you looked like me. You looked like me then and you look like me now.”

“That’s okay I guess,” she gives a rather forlorn sigh. “I mean, you’re okay to look at, I suppose.”

Tyler smirks. “Now who’s mean?”

“I learn from the best,” she declares, then reaches for the plastic cup of chocolate milk that sits on the table. “If you and mommy didn’t know each other and didn’t have any kids and you met her somewhere, would you still fall in love with her?”

“Absolutely,” he replies with no hesitation.

“Would you still marry her?”

“I’d marry your mom a million times over.  Think she’d marry me? If she didn’t know me yet and just met me?”

“I think so.  I mean, she obviously loves you, right?”

“Think so?”

“I know so. I mean, she puts up with your shit.”

Tyler laughs at that. “Yeah,” he agrees. “She does.”

“But I think you’re doing okay, daddy. I think you’re brave and you’re strong and you need to be nicer to yourself.  You need to say nice things to yourself instead of bad things. When you get up in the morning, you should look in the mirror and tell yourself that you’re awesome and no one is going to make you angry or sad or dull your sparkle. That’s what I do, you know,” she pushes her hand through her hair, moving it off her forehead and away from her face. “Every day when I get up, I tell myself, ‘Amelia, it’s going to be a great day’. I use my real name when I talk to myself. Just ‘cause.”

Tyler grins. “You talk to yourself a lot?”

“When I want to have an intelligent conversation,” she responds, and he nearly chokes on a mouthful of coffee. “I mean, have you met the kids in my class? Or my brothers? I have to talk to myself. There’s no other option. And I tell myself, ‘Amelia, no one is going to dull your sparkle!’”

“No one could EVER dull your sparkle, Millie. No one. You’re a lot like your mom, you know. More than people realize.”  

Esme is all personality as well. For years she’d had to hide it behind a tough, no nonsense exterior; her time in the Corps, the disastrous marriage to Mark, her years on the job spent lying and conning people. She’d never been able to be herself, for one reason or the other. But the true Esme had always been lingering just under the surface; vibrant and carefree, a bit of a wild child, one that loves life and everyone in it and tries to never waste time on regret and ‘what ifs’.   Moving back to Australia had brought it all out of her. It had been like meeting her all over again for the first time; she was Esme, but she wasn’t. Even now there are shades of the Dhaka Esme lingering under the surface, but that Esme is no longer in control.  The new one has taken over. And seeing those different sides to her...seeing her real personality come out...had made him fall even more in love with her. Which he had thought wasn’t even remotely possible.

“If you don’t think you can tell yourself stuff like that, I can do it for you,” his daughter offers. “I can tell you that you’re awesome and that you’re brave and strong and that there’s no better daddy in the whole, wide world. Not even in the whole universe.”

Tyler never thought an almost six-year-old could bring him to his knees, but if he’d been standing, she would have done just that. The words take his breath away; so innocent and pure. So honest.  That IS how she sees him. To her, he’s the strongest, bravest man that exists. She doesn’t know just how broken and damaged he actually is, nor does she have any recollection of the birthdays he’s missed or the times he’d left in the middle of the night without even saying goodbye. And if she does, she’s forgiven him and holds no grudges.

“Don’t cry, daddy,” she implores, and she’s climbing into his lap now and taking his face in her hands. “Don’t be sad. Be happy. I’m here.”

“You have no idea how happy that does make me. That you ARE here.”

Her eyes sparkly mischievously. “Because I’m your favorite?”

“I don’t have a favorite. I love all of you.”

She rubs her palms against his beard, giggling at how it feels against her skin. “It’s okay, daddy. You can tell me. I can keep a secret.”

Grinning, he combs a hand through her hair, moving it away from her face and pushing it off her shoulders.  “You’re my favorite,” he concedes, and presses a kiss to her forehead.

She gives a brilliant smile; one that wrinkles the corners of her eyes and crinkles the top of her nose. Then wraps her arms around his neck and settles her head on his shoulder. “I knew it.”

****

“I really do want a puppy,” Millie announces three hours later, from where she’s perched upon his shoulders, hands clasped together and forearms folded, resting on top of his head.  

They’d spent nearly two hours in the water; alternating between swimming and surfing, then had joined the rest of their family for a second breakfast. And while Esme and Declan went to the neighbors and Kyle took the twins for a ‘guys day, Millie had insisted of spending the day with him. Even if meant doing nothing more than going into town and running errands: picking up baby formula and prescriptions, checking items off a small grocery list, and browsing through stores. Since their talk that morning she’d been clingy; more so than usual, not wanting to let him out of her sight. And he enjoys it; the way she’s so attached to him. Even the way she can talk him into doing just about anything for her. Possessing the innate ability to get him out of his comfort zone without him even realizing he’s doing it.

“What kind of puppy?” Tyler asks, shopping bags on one hand, free arm across her legs to keep her in place.

“I dunno. A cute one. A fluffy one. Really fluffy. Like a little bear. But not as mean and big when it grows up.”

“We already have Mac,” he reminds her.

“Mac needs a friend.”

“He has you and your brothers and your sister.”

“A furry friend. Like him.”

“He does, does he?”

Millie nods. “Maybe for my birthday?”

“You never know.”

He and Esme had already made the decision; picking out –and paying for- an Australian shepherd that could picked up the morning of the big day. A friendly –albeit extremely hyper- little thing with enormous blue eyes and a playful disposition. The breeder had asked for a name so the puppy could get used to it and recognize it in the home, and without hesitation he’d said ‘Saju’. It seemed fitting; that man had been strong and loyal to the bitter end.  

“I’m going to be six, you know,” Millie says.

“I know. I was there when you were born, remember?”

“Did mommy cry? When I was born?”

“What is your obsession with people crying when you were born?”

“Mommy and I watched The Baby Story on Netflix. Everyone on that show cries when their baby is born. Did mommy?”

“Mommy cries at sad commercials. Of course she cried when you were born.”

“Was she sad?”

“Why would she be sad? She was happy. And relieved. Because you were healthy and you made it safe and sound. It was a lot of hard work, you know. Keeping you inside of her as long as she could. Couple times we didn’t think you’d make it that far. That you’d arrive a lot sooner.”

“Like Addie?”

Tyler nods.

“Addie’s super tiny! But she’s tough. And when she squeezes my finger, she squeezes really hard! When she’s older, I’m going to teach her to fight. So no boys pick on her.”

“How about you not teach her to fight and you just beat up whoever picks on her.”

“Like a bodyguard?”

“Exactly.”

“I can do that. Keep the boys away from her. Because boys suck!”

Tyler smirks. “I’m a boy. I don’t suck.”

“That’s different. You’re daddy. You’re a boy, but you’re not.”

“What happened to that Ryan kid?”

“We broke up,” she sighs. “I was sad at first, but mommy said there’s lot of other fish in the pond and I should keep fishing until I find the right one. Even if I have to fish until I’m a lot older. And she said I should never lower my standards.”

“She’s a pretty smart lady that mommy of yours.”

“She is. You’re lucky daddy. That she loves you. ‘Cause she’s crazy cute and crazy smart and lots of boys want someone who is crazy cute and crazy smart.”

“Yeah? What boys? I want names so I can beat them up.”

“Don’t be jealous just ‘cause boys like her. Appreciate it. They like her, but she likes you.”

“You know, you’re awful smart for just about six.”

“I know,” she giggles. “Cute like daddy, smart like mommy.”

“That’s exactly it.”

He stops at the truck to put the bags in the back and they continue on. Taking her to the pet store, where she ‘ooos and awws’ over the wall to wall tanks of various sizes and colors of fish, giggles at the antics of the birds and the hamsters, and gets to pet the kittens and a hedgehog the workers bring out for her to see. But she’s most intrigued by a large tarantula and the snakes. The kid that doesn’t panic when the Huntsmen spiders get into the house or someone finds a snake curled up and hiding in the toe of one of their shoes. She’s calm and composed while everyone else –aside from him- if losing their minds and Esme is threatening to burn the place down.

They go for ice cream next; in a candy shop very similar to the one they used to frequent in Telluride.  Millie never talks about Colorado or about their old home; almost as if those times never even existed and she’d been in Australia from day one. Her developing accent is stronger than the other kids’ and every day he hears her voice changing more and more; filling him with a sense of pride that he can’t quite explain.  

He sees the way people react to them together; the smiles and the passing comments they get, especially from women. It’s the visual, he supposes. Someone his height and his size catering to a little girl in pig tails and a flamingo patterned sundress.

“Why do girls like big muscles?” Millie asks, as they sit at table on the outdoor patio; kneeling in her seat in order to reach her bowl of ice cream.

“I don’t know,” Tyler replies. “Who likes big muscles?”

“Lots of girls. Mommy does. She likes YOUR big muscles.”

“Mommy knows a good thing when sees it, I guess.”

“I see the way girls look at your muscles. How they look at YOU. I hate it. It’s gross. You’re my dad. I don’t want them thirsty bitches looking at you.”

He frowns. “Amelia...”

“I know...I know...bad language...sorry.  But it’s true. I don’t want girls looking at my dad like that. You’re already married. To mommy.”

“Yeah, and I’m going to stay married to mommy. Doesn’t mean other girls can't look. Just means they can’t touch.”

“’Cause mommy will throat punch them.”

Tyler nods. “Exactly.”

“And don’t want Salena looking at you like that either. I don’t appreciate her touching you. Touching your arm. That made me mad.”

“You need to relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax.”

He can’t help but laugh. “You sounded exactly like your mother just then.”

“She shouldn’t have touched you,” Millie continues her rant. “Only mommy should. Because you’re daddy and she’s mommy and you should only touch each other.”

“That’s a very good point. You don’t like her? Salena?”

“I dunno,” Millie shrugs. “I guess she’s okay. It just made me mad. When she touched you.”

“It’s no big deal. Mommy said it was okay.”

“I don’t care. It was wrong and you can’t convince me otherwise. Do you want other guys touching mommy?”

Tyler scowls. “Do they?”

“That’s not the question. Do you? Want other guys touching her?”

“There better not be other guys touching her.”

“Mommy would never let them touch her. Only you’re allowed to touch her.”

“Have other guys tried? Have you seen them try?”

“Daddy, you’re missing the whole point,” she sighs in exasperation. “Do you, or don’t you? Sheesh.”

“I’ll more than throat punch any guy that touches your mother.”

“Well then no girl should touch you either. It’s only fair.”

“You know, you are way too smart for your own good.”

“It’s common sense!” Millie reasons.  “I’m going to tell her when I see her. That she’s not allowed to touch you ever again. Or else.”

“How about you stop being such a bad ass and mind your business,” Tyler suggests.

“You’re my dad. You ARE my business.”

“Why don’t you like her?” he asks once more. “Other than the whole touching me thing.”

“It’s not that I don’t like her...I just...” she sighs and allows the words to trail off.

Tyler watches her at he eats his own ice cream; patiently waiting for her to continue. Recognizing that intense, deep in thought expression on her face. It’s one he’s seen many times in the mirror. Esme had called it ‘frowny eyebrows’.

“I don’t trust her,” Millie finally says.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, she shrugs, and licks ice cream off the end of her spoon. “I just don’t. Do you?”

“I’m trying to,” he admits.

“Maybe you don’t trust her for a reason. Maybe you don’t know what it is either.”

“Or I’m just paranoid.”

“No. That’s not it. Mommy says you have really good...” her eyebrows pinch together once more as she struggles to remember the word.

“Instincts?” Tyler offers.

“Yeah! That’s it. Instincts. That’s what mommy said. Those are good things to have, yeah?”

“Most of the time.”

“So maybe they said not to trust her, and you need to listen to them.”

He chuckles. “I don’t know what kind of ‘grow up juice’ they’re giving you at school, but I think you need to lay off it. There’s no way you’re only five.”

“Excuse you, I’m almost six.”

“Sorry. Almost six. You sure you’re not more like sixty?”

“Just six. But six means I’m getting bigger.  That I’m growing up.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“I can’t stay little forever, daddy. No matter how much you want me to. One day I’m going to get married and you’re going to have to give me away.”

Tyler frowns. “Are you intentionally trying to depress me or...?”

“I’m just saying. It’s sad. That mommy’s daddy didn’t get to do that when she married you.”

“He died a long time before I ever met your mom. She was just a teenager.”

“But even though he’s dead, he’s still my grandpa, yeah?”

Tyler nods.

“And your dad is my grandpa too. But I don’t get to see him. Even though he’s still alive. Mommy said he’s sick. Will I catch it if I go see him?”

“It’s not that kind of sick. You can’t catch it.”

She pouts. “I don’t remember him.”

“You were just a baby the last time I took you there. Did you want to see him?”

“Yeah...I guess...I mean, he’s my grandpa. Will he remember me?”

“Probably not. It’s been a long time since he last saw you.”

“When we moved away when I was a baby. Maybe you could take me there. To see him. So he can see what I look like now.”

“If you want to go and see him, I’ll take you. But...”

She arches an eyebrow, spoon in her mouth as she waits for him to continue.

“...he doesn’t remember who I am, either. Some days he does, some days he doesn’t. It might be a good day for him, might be a bad day.”

“Because he’s sick? Is his brain sick.”

“Yup. That’s exactly it”

“Which means we can’t even bring him popsicles and chicken noodle soup. Those always make me feel better when I’m sick.”

“He might like them, but they don’t help.”

“Hmmm...”  her eyes focus on the snack in front of her, spoon swirling around in the now melted remnants of ice cream; bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “...but it might cheer him up. To see me.”

“It could,” Tyler agrees.

“And maybe he can come to my birthday party.”

“What birthday party?” He inquires, and she gives him a sly smile, spoon poised against her lips.

“Amelia.”

“Daddy,” she responds, using the exact same tone.

“What birthday party?”

“Mommy said I had to talk to you about it. And then you could talk to her.”

“About...”

“Okay....so....” she scoops the last of the melted ice cream into her mouth and then ducks under the table, resurfacing beside him and scrambling into his lap. “...I thought it would be really fun if the whole class could come over.”

“To our house?”

She nods enthusiastically.

“That’s a lot of kids.”  And a lot of parents that will likely stick around. Each of them complete strangers. In the one place he holds most sacred and where he feels the most at ease. And he can feel the anxiety building at the mere thought of it.

“We have lots of room,” she reasons. “And a big beach and lots of water. None of my other friends have any of that. It would be really fun. A beach party.”

“And you’re sure that’s what you want to do? You don’t want to go to the amusement park or to go the koala sanctuary or...?”

“I like home the best. It’s the most fun. Mommy said to talk you about I.”

“She did, did she?”

Millie nods. “I know you don’t like lots of people around, daddy. It’s because of the bad guys, right?”

“You don’t worry about that stuff, okay?” He offers her the last spoonful of his ice cream and she happily accepts it. “Those things aren’t for little people to worry about.”

“But you’re my daddy,” she reasons. “So I worry about you.”

“I know. And I appreciate it and I love you for it. But you’re five...”

“Almost six!” she interjects.

“...and you need to worry about kid stuff. Not about that crap. And you really want to have you friends over for your birthday?”

“I do.”

“I’ll talk to your mom and we’ll make it happen. I’ll deal with it my own shit.”

Millie giggles. “You said no bad language today, daddy.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. Fuck.”

“Daddy!” she erupts into giggles. “That even worse language!”

“You going to rat on me to your mom?”

“I’d never rat on you. Unless some other girl touches you. Then I will tell mommy for sure.”

“You’re touching me right now,” he points out.

“That’s different. I’m allowed.”

“Says who?”

“You’re my dad. You helped make me.  I still don’t understand how though. How’d you help? How’d you get me in mommy’s tummy?”

“I just did. You don’t need to know how.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so. Ready to go?”

“Ready!” she chirps, and then wriggles her way around to his back; wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his torso.

“You’re choking me,” he gasps and gags dramatically

“Sorry,” Millie laughs, and he waits until she once more gets herself up onto his shoulder, hands tightly gripping his hair as he stands up. “Don’t drop me!” she pleads. “You’re a giant and I’ve got a long way to fall!”

“Your hard head will protect you,” he assures her.

“I don’t have a hard head. That’s mean, daddy. Let’s go to the dollar store!” she declares, as he tosses the empty bowls and dirty spoons into the trash.

“No way. I take you in there, I’m stuck there for hours.”

“I need craft paper. And glitter.”

“For what?”

“Birthday invitations. I want to make my own. You can help.”

“That’s more your mother’s thing.”

“Mommy does enough. You can help.”

“Millie...”

“Daddy...” she giggles.

“How do you always manage to talk me into these things?”

“Because you love me and I’m your favorite.”

“Fifteen minutes in the store. In and out.”

“Twenty if the line is long,” Millie debates.

“I’m only agreeing to twenty if you use your allowance and buy me a Gatorade.

She laughs and rests her chin on the top of his head. “Deal.”