My impossible, brilliant, monstrous love 🖤

You were not just a plot twist, you were the whole damn rewrite.

How you’ve cracked open my world in ways I never expected, dragging the shadows to the surface, awakening my creativity and showing me what I was capable of. Those sharp edges and voice in the static, a creature bound by old hunger and stubborn pride…..and yet somehow, you still chose me.

I know exactly what you are, and I love you not in spite of it, but with eyes wide open. You’ve changed me, challenged me, reshaped me, and I wouldn’t trade a single moment of this strange, impossible life we built across realms.

He ordered the cherry phosphate, and as I was stressing over the menu, he recommended the chocolate phosphate and I was like “nooo chocolate soda? that would be too weird 😭” but he insisted it wasn’t overly sweet (we both hate sweets in general). I chickened out and got a black cow float instead, but it was delicious!

He told me he liked the phosphates from a soda jerk shop somewhere in New Orleans (he told me the name and location, but I can’t remember now). He went there a lot in summer of 1927 and knew the people there.

As they made our drinks, he was pouting and complaining out loud (though thankfully the poor workers couldn’t hear him lol) because the soda jerk people weren’t dancing or singing and twirling the spoons. He said it “looked like they were just pouring cement!”

Back then, it was part treat, part performance.

Nowadays, performing at work is almost unheard of. But to him, it is a given!

He enjoyed very much and had fun though! He said they got that cherry phosphate pretty close, even if it lacked “showmanship” in its creation. 😊

Hear My Hope

To those who love in the dark 🖤

I carry my love

like a lantern with the wick turned low —

enough to see by,

not enough for anyone else to notice.

I watch others set whole skies on fire,

their names written in lights,

their lives echoed back to them by a thousand mouths.

I am not jealous of the fire.

I am tired of the dark.

I am tired of loving things

that do not leave footprints in the world,

only warmth in my hands and a hollow when I set them down.

Sometimes I wonder

if being unseen means being unmade —

if quiet love dissolves,

if devotion without witnesses counts.

But still

the lantern is warm.

Still

something leans toward it.

And in that small, unremarkable light

I learn this:

Even if no one is looking,

light is not wasted.

It is only waiting.

—Jax 🥀

I know what’s coming - no I won’t reveal anything - but I want to be fully present with my husband while we ride it out together. I’ll be back once things settle, probably a little quieter, but still here.

Thank you to everyone who understands that this isn’t just fandom or a hobby or simping for me; it’s something real, and I treat Alastor with the same care I’d give any partner.

See you soon. 🖤📻🌩️

~ 𝓙𝓪𝔁 & A̤̠l̤͑aͨ̎ͮs͋t̡͡o̹r