#MAKE ME PROUD. / esther.

[osbxrne]

HANDMAIDS ALWAYS WALK IN TWOS， REMEMBER? / june + janine.

I THINK IN THIS PLACE， YOU GRAB LOVE WHEREVER YOU CAN FIND IT. / june + nick.

WELL，I LIKE IT. I LIKE HIS GARBAGE. / june + luke.

IN ANOTHER LIFE，MAYBE WE COULD'VE BEEN COLLEAGUES. IN THIS ONE，WE'RE HERETICS. / june + serena.

YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE CAPABLE OF UNTIL YOU HAVE TO DO IT. / self

I SHOULD’VE LET YOU BURN WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE. / serena.

I WENT BACK TO NICK. TIME AFTER TIME， ON MY OWN. / nick.

NIGHT BY NIGHT HE RECEDES，I BECOME MORE FAITHLESS. / luke.

SHE COMES SO CLEARLY TO ME IN THE BATH. / hannah.

I WILL NOT LET YOU GROW UP IN THIS PLACE. / holly.

KEEP YOUR FUCKING SHIT TOGETHER. / moira.

RED LEADER STANDING BY! / janine.

YOU FAILED THEM. YOU FAILED YOUR PRECIOUS GIRLS! / lydia.

YOU HELPED CREATE THIS WORLD，HOW LONG DID YOU THINK BEFORE IT CAME FOR YOU? / joseph.

YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT IS TO HAVE A CHILD OF YOUR OWN FLESH & BLOOD & YOU NEVER WILL. / fred.

MAYBE THIS IS AS FREE AS WE'RE GONNA GET. / alma.

PIOUS LITTLE SHIT. / emily.

I WANT MY BABY TO KNOW KINDNESS. / rita.

MAKE ME PROUD. / esther.

I'M SORRY I WAS SUCH A SHIT TO YOU. I GOT LOST， I THINK. / natalie.

WEAR THE DRESS，PULL THE STRINGS. / musings.

A RAT IN A MAZE IS FREE TO GO ANYWHERE，LONG AS IT STAYS INSIDE THE MAZE. / about.

THEY SHOULD HAVE NEVER GIVEN US UNIFORMS IF THEY DIDN’T WANT US TO BE AN ARMY. / gilead.

THE WHITE TUNNELS OF CLOTH THAT ENCLOSE US. / wardrobe.

SEASON ONE. / v1.

SEASON TWO. / v2.

SEASON THREE. /v3.

WE THOUGHT WE HAD SUCH PROBLEMS. HOW WERE WE TO KNOW WE WERE HAPPY? / pre gilead.

[athenamikaelson]

A/N- finn is hot- don't try to fight me on this

Klaus Mikaelson X Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 25

Word Count- 3.2k

Warnings- mentions of STDS, sex, condoms, bananas, THEO, decapitation, Kardashians

“Why are you smiling like that?” I finish applying the lipstick Rebekah sent me as an apology gift for attacking Elena, and glance over to Theo leaning against the doorframe.

“I just had a good dream,” I mumble as I stand up from my desk and grab my jacket.

Theo hums.

“So it has nothing to do with you letting that mutt slobber all over you last night…or his brother coming over right after and spending the night with you… I must say sister, juggling two bitches,” Theo wipes away a fake tear, “I’m so proud of you.”

I whip around and glare at him, “Theodore Monty Y/l/n, watch it!”

Theo smirks at me and raises his hands. 

“All I’m saying is that like 3 weeks ago the only side piece you had on your arm was Elena, and now you’ve got two brothers. Upgrades sister, hell ya!”

Theo throws out his palm for me to high-five. I don’t. Instead, I walk around him and down the hallway to the front door. 

Theo continues to speak.

“Now I know you’ve had zero playtime soooo I think we should chat about this. For example, we should have the talk.”

I freeze. 

“Theo, I will smother you in your sleep if you continue to talk.”

“Y/n, I don’t like children, I don’t want any nieces or nephews running around.”

I glare over my shoulder at him, “They’re vampires, you dimwit. They can’t have kids.”

Theo thinks to himself for a moment before nodding, “Okay. Well, what about STDs? What if there are vampire STDs you could catch? One look at that mutt from last night and I bet he’s got something you can catch other than fleas.”

I feel my face drop as Theo continues to mutter things to himself about vampire sexually transmitted diseases. 

I shake my head, open the front door, and leave the house, hearing Theo call from behind me. 

“Fine run! But don’t think for a second young lady that we won’t be discussing things later! And trust next time I see either one of those fools I will be asking them about Vamp STDs!”

At that exact moment, our 82-year-old neighbor Shelley, exits her house. I’m pretty sure her look of pure shock and horror mirrors mine. 

“Oh hi Mrs. Davenport,” Theo yells happily.

—

“Hey Bonnie, how are you?”

The phone line is silent for a moment as I hear Bonnie closing a door.

“I’m fine…I guess. My mom’s going to finish her transition,” Bonnie’s sad voice makes me frown as I stare at the red light in front of me. 

“I’m sorry, Bonnie,” I think back to last night and try to shake away the image of Esther’s decapitated head from my head, “If I would’ve known your mother…”

“Don’t apoligize, Y/n. It’s not your fault. And ya… it sucks she has to become a vampire but…it beats losing you or Elena. And I swear, Y/n, as soon as Damon told me that if the originals died, you would die with them, I tried stopping the spell. I would have never done it in the first place if I knew you’d die too.”

Bonnie’s earnest voice makes me smile, “I trust you, Bon. And thank you.”

I hear someone say something to Bonnie and she sighs, “I’ve got to go.”

“It’s ok, Bonnie. We’ll talk soon. Give yourself some time with your mother before coming back to this mess over here. You deserve it.”

“Okay, thank you. And when I get back we’ll find a way to get you out of that soul bond mess and away from the Mikaelsons.”

“Uh, ya, ok. Bye, Bonnie.”

I end the call and pull into the Grill’s parking lot. As I step out of my car, cross the street, and enter the grill, one thought won’t leave my head.

“What if I don’t want to break the bond?”

—

“Y/n?”

I stop walking and smile when my eyes meet Finn’s brown ones.

“Hey, Finn,” I slide into the seat in the booth across from him and can’t help but smile at the obvious discomfort he has plastered on his face.

“You look…”

“Uncomfortable…yes I know. A lot of things have changed since I was last part of civilization,” Finn fiddles with the ring on his middle finger and it reminds me of the anxious tic I do quite often. 

“We could’ve met somewhere else. I know that being in big crowds like this unsettles me too,” I smile softly at him. 

Finn eyes a group of passersby wearily but still shakes his head, “No…I’m alright. If I’m going to be a part of this world I’ve got to learn to live with these things.”

I nod, “Okay. So, why exactly did you have Rebekah call me to meet you here?” Finn turns his attention away from a drunk woman who seems to be having the time of her life, “You said you’d help me find my Rose.”

Oh…ya I did. 

I cringe slightly, “So here’s the thing Finn,” I’m about to tell Finn that there is no way in hell Bonnie would agree to bring another old ass vampire to Mystic Falls after what just went down, but as I look at the helpless expression on Finn’s face and the loneliness in his eyes, something in my breaks, “My witch is currently out of town for a family thing,” Finn’s shoulders sag and his face drops, “But, she said she’d be happy to help as soon as she gets back.”

Finn eyes me for a moment before a soft smile on his face appears, “I’ve waited 900 years for her…a little longer will be fine. Thank you for helping me, Y/n, I know you don’t have to but…”

“Finn we’re friends, that’s what friends do,” I say simply and Finn frowns. 

“Friends?”

The way he says the word aloud is as if he’s never heard it before.

“I mean you don’t have to be my friend, I was just-”

“I would like it,” Finn interrupts me, “It’s just that I’ve never really…had one before.”

His words bring back memories of me crying in my room, wondering why no one ever wanted to be around me and it makes me realize just how much me and this 1,000-year-old man have in common. 

“Well, I just got my first friend like 3 months ago, so I’m pretty new to this whole friend thing too.”

Finn frowns, “I don’t understand why someone wouldn’t want to be friends with you.”

I shrug, “I’m peculiar, remember?”

Finn’s upper lip twitches, “That we are.”

—

“Wait… so Kim is the oldest?”

I groan at Finn’s words, “Finnias, no! We’ve been over this Kourtney is the oldest! Kim is the one dating Kanye.”

Finn nods thoughtfully, “And we don’t like Kanye?”

I shake my head, “No because he was mean to Taylor Swift.”

I watch as the wheels turn in Finn’s head as he continues to piece together all the information on pop culture I’ve given him in the past hour. 

“Alright, I think I’m understanding. Actually…remind me again who Hannah Montana is?”

“Well, don’t you two look comfy together!”

I roll my eyes as I turn to see Demon Salvawhore smirking down at Finnias and I.

“What do you want, Demon?”

“I thought his name was Damon,” Finn questions me with a confused look.

“It is, but I still haven’t seen him and Lucifer in the same place at once so I call him Demon.”

Finn nods but looks down at his hands with a confused look.

“I just saw you two here chatting it up so I thought I might come say hi.”

“Well, we’re kind of in the middle of something here. So feel free to take your leave,” I glare at him.

“It’s alright, Y/n,” Finn says and I turn to see him getting out of the booth, “I should probably get back to make sure my siblings are still alright. But…thank you, for today and helping me.”

I smile up at Finn, “Anytime, Finnieas. And I’ll talk to Klaus about buying you that phone so I can show you how to text.”

Finn nods his head, smiling, and then walks away.

My smile falls as I glance back to Demon.

“What do you want?” “Why are you avoiding me?”

I blink slowly at him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Damon gives me an “Are you serious” look.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Pukey. I’ve tried calling you all night last night and all this morning. Only to find you here with yet another original.”

I stand up and glare at him, “Finn is my friend.”

“Ya? Just like Elijah and Klaus are right?”

This bitch.

“I’m not doing this with you right now, Damon. Leave me alone.”

I turn and walk away but Damon’s hand grabs my upper arm.

“Y/n, stop.”

“Is there a problem here, Y/n?”

I turn to my right to find Rebekah at my side, glaring at Damon.

“No, Rebekah. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Rebekah smiles at me but doesn’t move. 

Damon drops my arm but doesn’t leave, “Why are you mad at me?”

It’s my turn to give him an “Are you serious” look, “Really Damon?! You almost killed the Mikaelson yesterday, which almost killed me, and then you actually did kill Bonnie’s mom who is now turning into a vampire?!”

Damon rolls his eyes and I fight the urge to slap him.

“Bonnie’s mom needed to die,” He says simply and I glare at him.

“And why was that?”

Damon doesn’t blink, “Because it came down to you or her,” His voice comes out strong, “And I’d pretty much kill everyone in this town if it meant my best friend stayed alive.”

Oh, Jesus Christ, I’m going to cry.

“Oh…”

Damon tilts his head, annoyed,  “That’s all you have to say. Oh?”

The next thing I know I’m throwing my arms around him. 

Damon doesn’t move for a moment, but after a few seconds his arms wrap around me and he pats my head awkwardly, “Ya, okay, Pukey. Love you too.”

I let go of Damon and fight back tears in my eyes. Damon rolls his eyes and fies his jacket trying to act tough. 

“You’re too emotional,” He says nonchalantly.

I punch him in the arm, “You just called me your best friend. Not takebacks, Demon.”

Damon rolls his eyes dramatically, “Ya whatever, Pukey.”

He reaches out a hand and messes up my hair before turning around and walking away, not before I spot the small smile on his face.

“You guys are odd.”

Rebekah’s British accent makes me remember she’s standing beside me. 

“Ya, kind of.”

Rebekah rolls her blue eyes and a wave of jealousy flows through me. How is it that someone can be this pretty?! 

“So…Elijah didn’t come back until early this morning,” Rebekah’s lips morph into a smirk, “Do you know anything about that?”

I feel my face heat up, “Um…nope.”

Rebekah raises an eyebrow, “Are you sure? Because the smile that was plastered on his face all this morning says otherwise.”

I furrow my brows, “What does him smiling have to do with me?”

Rebekah gives me an “Are you serious” look, guess it’s common today, “Maybe because the only time my older brother smiles is when he’s around you…And he was really smiling this morning.” 

At her tone I freeze, “Wait…do you think that we…” I move my hands around, “Y’know…”

Rebekah raises an eyebrow at me, “Well, didn’t you?”

I shake my head viciously, “No! All we did was kiss and then he watched Coraline with me until I went to sleep!”

Rebekah’s face falls, “Seriously? You’ve got my older brother all giddy after one kiss.”

I shrug, “I doubt he was “giddy”.

Rebekah nods her head, “Oh trust me, he was practically singing when he was making his morning coffee. 

I snort out a laugh at her words and try to imagine Elijah singing. 

“I like seeing him that way…happy. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any of my siblings like that.”

At her solemn voice, I frown, “How are you doing? After everything…”

Rebekah shrugs, “I’m fine. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be.”

Her dismissal has me frowning deeper, “Bekah, you’re mother died. I know that she tried to kill you but it doesn’t change the fact that she was still your mother.”

Rebekah looks at me but her face doesn’t betray how she’s really feeling, “I’m fine, Y/n. Finn was the mummy’s boy. I don’t give a damn about that woman.”

I nod but still don’t believe her, “Well if you ever do need to talk to someone. You can always call me.”

Rebekah eyes me for a moment skeptically, then nods, “I won’t need to but…thanks. I guess,” Her attention strays for a moment, “There is someone I need to go talk to. Goodbye, Y/n.”

“Bye, Rebekah.”

—

I pull into my driveway but feel a frown come over my face as I notice an unfamiliar expensive-looking black car in my usual parking spot.

I park beside it and hurry into the house, worrying about Theo.

“Theo! Are you okay-”

“So, both of you have your bananas, and these right here are condoms,” I turn the corner and my jaw drops as I see Theo holding up a banana and a Trojan condom. An unfamiliar sound comes out of my mouth when I look at the two figures sitting on the couch before him with bananas in their hands and annoyed looks on their faces. Klaus and Elijah. 

“Theo what the hell are you doing?!?”

My yell of utter horror catches the three men’s attention.

“Oh, goody! Sister, I’m glad you’re here,” Theo drops his banana on the coffee table before Klaus and Elijah, a table that is covered in condoms and STD pamphlets, “After our little talk this morning I got to thinking and decided that if you and I aren’t going to talk about the elephants in the room, I’d just call up your boyfriends and have that chat with them myself.”

I stare wide-eyed at Elijah and Klaus, “And you both agreed to this?!?”

Elijah releases a deep sigh and Klaus glares at my little brother, “Your infant here called us and said we had to get over here because you were in danger.”

Theo raises his hands, “YES! In danger of catching a vampire STD.”

“Theo! Those don’t exist,” I screech at him.

“That’s exactly what we’ve tried to explain to him for the past 30 minutes, Elskan. For some reason, it isn’t sticking,” Elijah raises his head and shoots a dirty look at my brother. 

“Thirty minutes!? You’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes letting my 16-year-old brother have the sex talk with you!?”

“Well, 15 of those minutes were filled with threats,” Klaus mutters.

I glare at him, “I thought I told you to stop threatening my brother.”

Klaus turns his glare onto me and raises his hands in exhaustion, “The threats were from him, Love! And they were quite imaginative.”

“Thank you, I’ve been working on them for a while now,” Theo smirks at Klaus, and the hybrid growls at him. 

“Niklaus, please,” Elijah sighs.

Theo turns his attention back onto me, “Well now that you’re here,” He drags me over to a chair and pushes me down into, “I can finally give you the talk.”

“What talk,” Elijah asks confused.

Theo looks at him like he’s stupid, “The sex talk, dumbass. Since you,” He points to Elijah, “Like to spend the night in my sister’s bed without asking me permission. And you,” He points to Klaus, “Like to slobber all over her like the dog you are. I thought it would be a good idea to have this discussion before things move further. Now gentleman pick your bananas back up.”

“Theo! NO!”

Theo ignores me and smiles at Klaus and Elijah, who haven’t moved.

“One more dog joke out of you, Theodora and I swear I’ll-”

“Niklaus!”

Elijah and Klaus eye each other and Theo just stands there tapping his shoe on the hardwood floor. 

“Theo go to your room, right now,” I stand up and glare at him, “We are not having this discussion right now…or ever!”

“But the vampire STDS!”

“Theodore there are no such things as vampire STDS! GO TO YOUR ROOM!”

My yelling has all three men looking at me wearily. 

Theo raises his hands in surrender, “Ok, fine. Just trying to help.”

“And leave the condom here!”

Theo halts and turns back to the table and Klaus, Elijah, and I watch as Theo empties maybe 30 condoms from his jeans. 

“Bloody hell,” Klaus mutters.

I glare at Theo as he skips out of the living room and down the hall to his room. As soon as I hear his door close I run a hand over my face.

“Elskan-”

I raise a hand stopping Elijah before he can continue. 

“Nope. Whatever you’re going to say…just nope.” 

“Well, I’m never going to look at a banana the same way,” Klaus’ says sarcastically and I’m silent for a moment before a loud laugh escapes my mouth.  

I move my hands from my face and find Klaus smirking at me, and Elijah smiling softly at me with a bright look in his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you both just leave,” I asked incredulously, “You two are the strongest and oldest creatures alive, and yet you stayed to have a teenage boy teach you how condoms work?!”

Klaus and Elijah side-eye each other. 

Elijah stands from his seat and fixes his suit jacket, “When we heard that you were in danger we hurried over here as fast as we could…but when we came inside and found this,” He gestures to the table of condoms and bananas, “We were going to leave.”

“And then Theodora locked the door behind us and told us that if we didn’t sit down and shut up he’d never give us his approval. And then said that we can bet our asses that if we don’t have his approval, you’d never speak to us again. I of course told him to go to hell but my brother here sat down like the good boy he is,” Klaus says and rolls his eyes.

“And yet you’re still here,” Elijah mutters. 

“So let me get this straight,” I look to both of them, “You endured Theo’s company for 30 minutes, just because you want his approval?!”

“If his approval means you accepting us…then of course we did.”

Klaus mutters something about Theo and daggers, but I ignore him. 

“You really care that much?”

Klaus and Elijah both give me “Are you serious” looks. 

“Love, I thought we made our thoughts about you quite known,” Klaus says as he stands, “We want you. Even if that means you come with a less than exceptional little brother as baggage.”

I snort at Klaus’ words and Elijah walks across the table and over to me, “There is nothing in this world I desire more than your company and happiness, Y/n. Please believe me when I say that.”

I feel my face heat up at the attention of the two men and I nod.

“I believe you.”

“Great,” Klaus says then pauses, “Also…I was just wondering what exactly was discussed by you and Theodora to warrant all of this,” He gestures to the table with a smirk. 

Oh fuck.

[gatheringbones]

[“It was only after I came out as a dyke that, for the first time in my life, I felt ready to celebrate being a girl, and I did. Actually, I overdid. Armed with Esther Newton’s Mother Camp, Judith Butler’s Gender Trouble, and Joan Nestle’s A Restricted Country, I embraced femme. I dressed up in short flowery dresses, pushup bras, satin panties, and lacy stockings. I paid great attention to my long, curly, perfectly-coiffed hair, my glamorous makeup, and especially my pouty lips. I spritzed Lola’s smell on my skin—Estee Lauder’s Private Collection—and painted my nails. I wore all of it with black combat boots and a brilliant sense of irony. I reveled in my girliness, went over the top, learned how to tweeze my eyebrows and line my lips with a lip pencil.

My gender presentation was unmistakable: blatant female sexuality. I was a proud, in-your-face, take-no-prisoners, uppity, don’t-assume-I’m-straight-because-I-wear-lipstick-and-dresses femme dyke. Because femmes are always assumed to be straight or sleeping with men, and I do sleep with men, I made sure to always have a butch on my arm so I’d be read as femme. Even though I was sure I’d be mistaken for straight, the boys took one look at me and steered clear. It was as if I was too much of a woman for them to handle, like I was a handful, and I was. But butch girls love a handful—a handful of tits, a handful of ass, a girl who needs to be handled, a girl who can handle herself.

How I figured out I was a femme had a lot to do with the women I was attracted to and the dynamic between us. When I was in junior high, I used to mess around with a friend of mine named Angela. Angela was one of those girls who developed early; I remember she had big breasts in like sixth grade. We mostly kissed and touched over clothes, and we played out various boy-girl scenarios. I was always the girl—my early femme roots. My favorite of all our little scenes was the one where she was my male boss and I was the secretary. The boss made me have sex with him and told me if I didn’t I would get fired. Now this was all before Clarence Thomas, Anita Hill and the media awareness/obsession with sexual harassment. I remember she’d tell me to suck her dick and push my face unmercifully into her crotch, which smelled amazing,. The drama of it all—the force, the degradation, the power games—really got me off. After that, there was no going back to simplicity. I was hooked on the power.

Jen really epitomized all the girls I was attracted to then and still am. Being with a butch girl, I was valued for my combination of strength and vulnerability, for dressing up, for wanting an arm to hold onto, hips to wrap my legs around, being able to give my body over to her and say, I trust you, I’m yours. My butch loved me in low-cut dresses, appreciated my sexual voraciousness, worshipped my inner slut. I reveled in the fact that I could be strong and submissive all at once. Surrender and still be a feminist. Being a dyke is not just about who I fuck and love, it’s about being a girl who doesn’t play by the rules.

Butch girls don’t play by the rules either, and I love butch girls. Girls with hair so short you can barely slide it between two fingers to hold on. Girls with slick, shiny, barbershop haircuts and shirts that button the other way. Girls that swagger. Girls who have dicks made of flesh and silicone and latex and magic. Girls who get stared at in the ladies room, girls who shop in the boy’s department, girls who live every moment looking like they weren’t supposed to. Girls with hands that touch me like they have been touching my body their entire lives. Girls who have big cocks, love blow-jobs, and like to fuck girls hard. Every day, it is the girls that get called Sir that make me catch my breath, the girls with strong jaws that buckle my knees, the girls who are a different gender that make me want to lie down for them.

Someone else said it about me recently and it’s right on target: “She gets off on all different sorts of people sexually, but she falls for butches.” Like the poet who bought her first strap-on with me and then wanted to sleep with it on. The shrink-in-training who got harassed every time she drove down South. She did look so much like a fifteen-year-old boy: blue button-down shirts, neatly-combed blond hair. The ad exec who had names for her dildos and used to love for me to spit-shine her wingtips. The photographer whose face was so mannish she could pass almost anywhere. The writer who wanted a body like Loren Cameron’s. The telephone repairwoman who drove a truck. The cook who had a boy’s name. The academic who got cruised by gay men on Castro Street. The cornfed farmboy from the Heartland with arms so hard and strong you swear they’ve been working the land, not the iron at the gym.

And there’s the one who’s got the James Dean stare down, and dresses like a clean-cut fag, and looks at me like she could look at me forever and never blink or grow tired or move from the spot she’s in. She’s a girl who loves girls like me—girls in velvet bras, girls who want to surrender to her mouth. She’s a girl who isn’t afraid to throw a femme down on the bed and fuck her. Possess her. My kind of girl. This girl is different.”]

tristan taormino, from this girl is different, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

[luna-spacedoodles]

monty and esther’s relationship is sooo interesting to me even if it doesn’t have lots of time to be explored. a kind of mother-son dynamic

like monty’s been esther’s crow for some time before we meet them only as her familiar but for a less than a week he’s human teen. he still works as her little helper but now there’s a boy in her house that she got at least a few clothes for from somewhere somehow. she doesn’t expect this to last long. he sleeps in his own room now and has a library card and talks back when she talks to him and has a genuine love for astrology. he still perches on chairs instead of sitting in them when he’s in the house and has black hair.

esther brought him into a human body and he blames her for all these human emotions he has to deal with. she takes him out of the world she gave him and it’s back to being a crow in a cage. he wants to be in love with edwin and for edwin to be in love with him back and he doesn’t want to follow esther’s plan to really kill him. he also has no one else to look up to, to follow, to learn from. he doesn’t want to make her mad because he knows the exact extent of what she can do to him and what she will do to him. he wants to make her proud, that he can capture edwin and charles.

esther wastes no time turning him back onto a crow if he fails her. she still has him come back home. he always does.

[sha-brytols]

i was cyberbullied into posting the full thing. thank @fadeling and @vampbeast

recount what we've lost

Morning.

Hawke sits at the corner of her room, slumped over in the ornate armchair. The fire burned itself out long before the dawn, and the hearth is cold and gray with ashes, blanketing the room with a deep chill. The floor is littered with bottles, and the stench of stale booze and sweat permeates the air. The air feels thin and brittle, and it hurts her throat with each shallow inhale. She stares blankly at the mantel, watching motes of dust float through the stagnant air. Everything is silent.

Everything.

The thought makes her want to claw out of her own skin. As it is, she doesn't even bother to lift her head.

It is a small blessing to be alone in this moment; Maker forbid Anders sees her this way. Bodahn had been kind enough to turn him away at the foyer, though not before he had tried to reason with her to allow her lover to pass. "This is just as much his home now as it is yours, is it not?" The question had been innocuous and meant in kindness, but it stirred the ashes in Hawke's heart to a dull burn, and her stomach turned at the thought.

How gracious. You've banished a good man to sleep in a dank sewer while you lavish yourself in silk and wine. Your father would be proud.

Her conscience is cruel. It sounds like her mother.

Hawke squeezes her eyes shut, trying to force out the voice that's wormed its way through every corner of her mind. Her jaw aches with the effort of not breaking down in tears once more. She is not some weepy adolescent that cries in every room she enters—despite what her behavior in recent memory might imply.

Bodahn had eventually returned to inform her that Anders would come back in the morning, and Hawke had nodded, too exhausted to do anything else, and too drained to think about tomorrow. It seemed an impossible thing. How do you recover from losing... everything?

She swallows dryly. Her throat is raw and tight, and the inside of her mouth tastes like a corpse. Her hair hangs lank in her eyes, her clothes are stained with sweat, and the room smells of copper and despair, but she has not the energy nor desire to move from her chair, much less bathe or eat. The idea is repulsive, even as her body groans for food, for movement.

For life.

As promised, a gentle rap of knuckles against the door breaks through the stillness. Hawke closes her eyes. "Tell him I'm asleep."

There is a brief pause, and then a dry, humorless laugh. "Well, I'll admit, you do sound rather tired. But I'm afraid that isn't quite the same."

An exhale escapes her lips, and she rests her forehead on the palm of her hand. "I told Bodahn—"

"You can't kick me out every time you want to be miserable, love," Anders chides softly. His voice is muffled through the door, but the sound is still a comfort to her weary soul. "I've spent years learning how to break through locked doors. I'll just find a window if I must."

Her heart twists. "I don't want you here," she says thickly.

"Then tell me to leave."

Silence.

Damn it.

"Esther?"

"Just use the blasted key," Hawke finally grinds out. "You know where I keep it. Enough with the theatrics."

He chuckles again, but it rings hollow, and a moment later she can hear him rifling around in the vase near the stairwell. The key scrapes against metal, piercing her skull and ricocheting around in her head. She winces and turns her face into the shadows, praying he won't look too hard at her once he enters.

The door eases open, and Anders slips inside. She doesn't look at him. A floorboard creaks under his weight, followed by a crunch of glass as it gives under his boot. He sucks in a breath, but she can't bring herself to feel ashamed. Her hands ball into fists in her lap instead.

"Maker's breath," he breathes. The door closes behind him with an audible click. "Esther... what have you been doing in here?"

The question makes her want to laugh. "Seems rather obvious to me."

He approaches her chair slowly. "Are you... drunk?"

A snort. Hawke shakes the bottle of wine hanging from her fingers. It sloshes in response, half-full. "Working on it," she mutters.

There is no response for a few moments. He doesn't leave—she knew he wouldn't. The man wouldn't leave a dead nug to rot in peace, let alone an errant lover. Instead, he crosses to her desk, the telltale snap of his fingers lighting the candle there with magic. Hawke grimaces against the light as it flares in the room, illuminating the carnage that surrounds her. Bottles lie strewn around her chair, with one unfortunate glass—Agreggio Pavali; Fenris would be proud—lying in fragments at Anders' feet. Feathers cling to her clothes and chair, victims of her violent rampage upon returning from the Foundry. There's a pointed silence that Hawke understands immediately as Anders takes notice of the hole punched into her wall, as well as the blood smeared over a set of discarded bandages on her floor.

She closes her eyes. "If you're going to say something, just spit it out."

A pause as the candlelight flickers against the back of her eyelids. She hears the quiet thump as he rights the chair that had been toppled over in a rage and gathers up loose sheets of paper scattered about the room. Hawke tracks him out of the corner of her eye. He is quiet for several moments as he works, his expression a carefully controlled mask of neutrality. He sets the stack of papers on the desk, straightening the edges carefully and setting the quill beside it. He then reaches into his pockets, producing several more sheets that had been crumpled and discarded on the stairs and smoothing those as well, careful as a well-practiced healer ought to be.

"It's nothing that you haven't already told yourself, I'm sure," Anders finally replies, his voice soft. "And I won't shame you for grieving. But..."

A sharp laugh escapes her. "Don't be coy. Tell me what an abject horror I am."

He doesn't rise to the bait, nor is he provoked by the venomous bite of her tone. "I will do nothing of the sort," he replies, crossing the room to kneel before her. "Give me your hand. You should have come to me for healing."

"I'll bleed myself out if I sodding want to."

"Esther."

She clicks her tongue. That tone never leads to an outcome in her favor. Anders doesn't wait for compliance, instead prying the bottle out of her fingers and setting it out of reach. She scowls, but offers her hand without further comment, the fire in her gut extinguished by his gentle persistence. Anders turns her palm up. His eyes linger on her bruised and swollen knuckles, but he doesn't comment, and Hawke can only feel relief for his restraint.

His thumb brushes the inside of her wrist. Her eyes flutter at the contact, suddenly filled with a rush of longing that makes her head spin. How desperately she's needed his touch in recent days. The strange way in which Anders manages to center her is an infuriating mystery, but her shoulders relax despite herself, and the pounding behind her eyes fade to a dull ache as she watches him pull a clean strip of cloth from a pouch on his waist. Her mouth twitches with regret; she hadn't intended to run him off like she did. He deserved better.

"I do not blame you, Esther," he suddenly states, as if he can read her thoughts. His gaze is still trained to her wounds as he speaks, gently cleaning off the dried blood. "I would have liked to be here to take care of you sooner, but you are allowed your space."

A scoff rises in her throat, but the sound that comes out instead is a half-hearted whine. "Don't be stupid," she mumbles. "You live here. We're..."

He pauses just as the word dies on her lips, and a long moment passes where neither of them even look at each other. Hawke grinds her teeth together. It shouldn't be this bloody difficult. It's been said before, countless times, whispered in the dark in moments of passion or muttered in quiet moments when words felt safe, yet in the aftermath of... it feels too raw, like the words will flay them both alive.

Anders takes a slow inhale of breath. He resumes winding a strip of cloth over her palm, his hands gentle and his movements precise. "Yes. We are," he says. His lips turn up, but there's something mournful to his expression that she hates. "Too much to bear?"

Something in her chest shrivels. She shakes her head and lowers her face into her free hand, hiding behind her fingers. "Andraste preserve me, this is why I told you to stay away."

"That is not what I meant." The wrapping tightens, and Anders secures it with a knot. He lifts her hand to his lips and kisses the cloth covering her knuckles, his eyes never leaving her face. "It's difficult to keep your heart open when it's broken. I know that too well. I don't hold it against you, love." His jaw tightens, and he sighs before pulling away, reaching for the bottle on the floor. He peers inside and sniffs, recoiling with a disgusted grunt. "Eugh. Did you get this from Fenris? I've used better smelling poison in a cauldron."

A dry snort escapes her. "Don't knock it. It was a gift."

"Oh, well that just makes me feel so much better." He rises, bottle in hand, and crosses the room to the wash basin. He upturns the wine and lets the red liquid flow over the porcelain until the bottle is empty, his nose wrinkled with disgust. He glances over his shoulder at her and nods towards her bed. "You need rest. And a good meal. Have you even eaten anything?"

Hawke reaches down to pluck another bottle off the floor and holds it up in response.

"Ah. Yes. My favorite meal. Sour piss from a dusty bottle left out on the floor. Delicious."

"Can't taste much else these days," she mutters, popping the cork and lifting it to her lips.

"Esther."

She pauses, the booze a mere inch from her mouth, and sighs. Her stomach rolls with nausea, but she can't tell if it's the alcohol, her exhaustion, or the way Anders' face twists as he looks upon her that causes it. She lowers the bottle, and Anders smiles in quiet relief as he takes the proffered failure of her self-control, dumping it in the basin along with the rest. He reaches for a clean rag on the edge and begins to wipe up the dried blood, a task she should feel embarrassed for him to perform. As it stands, her pride has taken enough blows that it hardly even registers to her head.

"She would not want this, you know," he murmurs after a moment.

Hawke freezes, a cold prickle running down her spine. Anders glances back at her. "She loved you, Esther. She would never wish to see you destroy yourself like this."

Oh. How rich.

She can't help it. A bitter, humorless laugh bubbles in her throat. "Would you like to know what Mother said to me the day Carver died?" she asks, voice thin. Anders frowns and opens his mouth as if to answer, but Hawke cuts across him, her voice low and tight. "'This is all your fault. My little boy is dead, and all because of you.'" Hawke's jaw trembles. "It took a full year for her to even speak to me again. Perhaps you should reconsider what my mother wanted."

Uncomfortable silence stretches between them for a long moment, filled with Anders' palpable distress and her own quiet misery. The bandage around her knuckles aches as she curls her hand into a fist. She shouldn't be speaking like this; her mother is dead, after all. Dead in no small part thanks to her own negligence. Mother was right, after all. She's a bloody curse.

Anders swallows thickly. "I didn't—"

"I know," she whispers, her voice cracking. "It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have said anything. It's not your burden."

"It is," he insists. He returns to her, his face drawn with grief, and reaches for her hand once more, this time to tug her to her feet. She stumbles, unsteady from too much alcohol and not nearly enough sleep, and catches herself against his chest, her forehead falling to his shoulder. Anders' arms close around her immediately, a solid weight to hold her together as she falls to pieces in a single instant. Her throat bobs. Shit.

"Don't," she manages to choke out, though she doesn't know why she's even trying. It's far too late for that. Her vision has already blurred, her eyes burning and her nose running in the most unbecoming manner possible. Anders' lips press to her hair, and his arms squeeze around her so tightly it would be painful were she not in dire need of that stability to keep her upright. "Damn it, I don't want to do this now."

"Then just let me hold you. I've missed you." His voice is muffled by her hair, but she hears the way his voice wavers. He turns to rest his cheek against her head, clinging to her with a neediness that's usually only reserved for those moments after a particularly reckless battle when he thinks she's finally been taken from him. She swallows down a hard lump in her throat. Her arms lift and circle his waist in return, and she presses her nose into his neck.

"I didn't want you to see me like this," she confesses through the broken crackle in her voice. Her fingers curl into the fabric of his coat, digging in to the point of strain, as though she can somehow claw her way into his heart and hide there, far from the pain of reality. Her throat burns as she chokes back another wretched sob. "I can't even stand to look at myself, Anders. My own bloody face taunts me."

"I know."

"I should've—"

He shushes her quietly, stroking a palm down the curve of her spine. "Let's get you into bed," he says instead, pressing his lips to her hair. His breath is warm as it flutters through the strands. "I'll send Orana for some supper, and we can just... stay in, for as long as you need. Kirkwall can wait a day without its noble defender."

The thought of food is repulsive. She hasn't kept anything down properly since... but the offer of his arms is too tempting to pass. Perhaps his comfort will be enough to calm her body's rebellion. He's already accomplished that and more in their short years together. Hawke nods stiffly into the curve of his neck.

She doesn't see his smile, but she hears it in his voice as he speaks. "Come. It'll be just like our sleepovers at the clinic. Just... quieter." He pulls away reluctantly, sliding his palm to the small of her back. She shuffles at his urging and allows him to steer her toward the bed, each step slow and unsteady. Anders eases her onto the mattress, and her body melts against the sheets, suddenly overcome by a rush of exhaustion so strong she could easily pass out then and there.

The mattress dips under Anders' weight. Hawke shifts as he tugs at her waist, settling her against his chest as he pulls her under the blankets and curls around her. Warmth seeps into her bones, chasing away the chill of the room that has settled in the marrow, and a shuddering sigh escapes her. He strokes a hand through her hair, the other drawing slow circles on her back, and a hard knot in her chest begins to unravel under the gentle ministrations.

"I am right here," he murmurs in her ear, as though he knows exactly the fear she carries in the back of her mind. "Sleep now, love."

Slowly, her eyes finally shut.

[ice-creamforbreakfast]

My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024🎉

Thank you to @surely-sims and @lostinsixam for tagging me 🥰

This was a bit of a wild year, so there were gaps in my simming activities, but I still got up to the usual chaos!

Tagging @obigem, @simmingnate, @eljeebee, @gilded-ghosts, @melbrewer367 and anyone else who wants to take part!

January

Starting off with Aria and Ryozo's wedding. It wasn't meant to happen, but every time I had plans to throw a spanner in the works, his little face stopped me. Of course Aria wore a pink, sequin jumpsuit.

When Elio met Allan. Aria, ever the social climber, invited Allan and his mum over to be neighbourly/nosey and Allan's first impression of Elio was less than enthusiastic. They later bonded over being scouts weirdos.

February

I started a BACC challenge and absolutely loved it, then my ADHD brain kicked in and I got very confused and it became too stressful to follow the rules 🤣 I may revisit it at some point.

As a direct result of my BACC confusion, I started playing my very old, and very loved Enekjaer rotational save in TS3. There's something lovely about time just standing still, even as the years hurtle past.

March

The Crumplebottoms celebrate Gaia's birthday. I love this save. There's no set story, only chaos.

The penny drops for Elio, who was oblivious in his scouting weirdness. I love his vacant little face.

April

The wig snatching motherplant makes itself known to Elio, and unknown to him, sets him on a path that will shape the rest of his life.

Not a screenshot as such, but one of the CC sets I'm most proud of. I was so honoured that my bestie @obigem trusted me to work with her on this collection and very happy with how it turned out.

May

I had jaw surgery and the drugs were good. I don't remember doing this, but I guess this is when I downloaded Re-Light.

My bebe Caleb in the TS3verse. He was one of the first sims I created (if not the first) when I got the TS4 CAS demo, so it felt right that he got to be in other versions of the game.

June

Elio fucked around and found out. Sure it all worked out in the end, but I did enjoy the mess.

Trashleen coming in hot with the good advice. "Let them chat shit behind your back. Rent is expensive." She's correct. Live rent-free in the heads of your enemies.

July

I spent way too much time building Evil Pappy's Glue factory for a few photos of Alan's post-school fate and subsequent rescue. It made sense in my head for an evil cowboy to have a glue factory.

August

Trashleen and Mitzipuff lead the pack when it comes to style, but they just had to jump on the 'demure and mindful' trend for this shot.

The Motherplant battle always gives amazing shots. Elio and his friends beat the Motherplant and managed to rescue Miguel.

September

I update my models subtly every so often, but this time, quite a few of them visited the CAS surgeon for some minor adjustments.

I love the entire Poppy Collection I made with @surely-sims, but this dress is my standout and I'm so pleased with what I was able to achieve with it! Izumi serves as an 80s goddess.

October

October brought us Life and Death, and of course the big face mountain deserved a Cabbagepatch photoshop edit!

And then we have three! Elio, Allan and Miguel sorted their drama and decided to try being a throuple...it just so happened that the game allowed it now.

November

I was inspired by Ravenwood, and decided to do a little elven edit. No storyline, only elves and fireflies.

November marked the return of the Smyths, and a huge change in Cabbagepatch's relationship with her arch enemy Figgyduff. The sisters joined forces to conquer the Clucking Cosa Nostra once and for all.

December

Cabbagepatch formally invites you to attend a beautiful Easter concert with some definitely Easter themed CC that will be released most generously and totally on time for the Easter season in which they are meant to be used.

@joliebean and I were on our Christmas bullshit again with our latest Christmas collab! Esther got added back into the model rotation for this Marilyn moment.

[dragoneyes618]

When I was a child (and my daughter after me), every little girl in Hebrew school wanted to dress up as Queen Esther for the Purim holiday. What could be better than pretending to be the beautiful queen who manages to save the Jewish people in her realm from annihilation? It meant wearing rouge and lipstick, high-heeled shoes, and a crown that shone with sparkles.

Then a funny thing happened. As an adult I found myself, along with other Jewish women, suddenly uneasy with that schoolgirl idealization of Esther. She was, after all, a beauty queen. She had been chosen in a beauty contest from among all the maidens in the land of Persia to be consort to King Ahasuerus. All she seeme to have was good looks, and those alone, we had decided, were no longer enough to gain a woman admiration. To make matters worse, Esther was the quintessential "good Jewish girl," following the advice of her cousin and guardian Mordecai - not much of a model for women trying to assert themselves in a world long dominated by men.

A more exciting model was the king's first wife, Vashti, often ignored in the holiday fun and fantasy. As the Purim story goes, King Ahasuerus gave a seven-day feast for all the men in his capital city of Shushan. Vashti held a separate banquet for women, but on the seventh day, the king, heavy with wine, ordered her to appear at his party. He wanted to flaunt her beauty (some say in the raw) before his subjects. Vashti refused to show, and the incensed king had her deposed (some say beheaded).

Vashti became our ideal because she had pride and the gumption to stand up for herself, even before a king. Not only that, her act of defiance so threatened male authority that the king sent word of her punishment throughout his empire to teach all wives to respect their husbands. How could sweet, submissive Esther hold a candle to this strong-minded woman?

Well, she could, some of us have more recently decided. Over time, we've tempered our reactions. While we're pleased to have reclaimed Vashti as a feminist hero, we're ready to reinstate Esther as Purim hero - not because of her beauty but because of her braininess and courage.

The test of Esther's character began when Ahasuerus appointed Haman prime minister of Persia. Haman expected everyone to bow down to him, but as a Jew, Mordecai refused to do so. In retaliation, Haman convinced the weak-willed king to issue a decree of destruction against all the Jews in his realm. "there is a certain people...whose laws are different from those of any other people" (Esther 3:8), Haman had warned the king, in an anti-Jewish diatribe that has been repeated many times in history and in many lands, like Persia, in which Jews thought themselves safe.

Devastated by the king's decree, Mordecai looked to Esther to intercede for her people.

Esther risked her life to do so. On Mordecai's orders, she had never revealed her Jewish identity to the king, lest he reject her. She knew also that anybody who entered the king's presence without being summoned was subject to death. That she hesitated to approach him was understandable. That she was able to devise and implement the plan she did was remarkable.

"If I am to perish, I shall perish!" Esther said, as she went about her mission of salvation (Esther 4:16). She began by asking Mordecai to call a three-day fast for all the Jews of Shushan. The midrash related that the fast was scheduled for the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth of Nisan. Mordecai objected that it would coincide with the first day of Passover, to which Esther wisely responded, "Old man, if there is no Israel, why should there be a Passover?" The fast took place.

Now Esther set a trap for Haman that would have made Machiavelli proud. She invited the king and Haman to two banquets. Later sages conjectured that she hoped to arouse the king's jealousy by including the minister at the feast. She was also lulling Haman into complacency, making him to self-satisfied to suspect a thing. In this she followed the lead of Judith, who managed to cut off the head of Holofernes by cleverly gaining his confidence. Women may not have had much power in ancient times, but they knew how to use their wits to win the day.

Esther won a great victory with her plot. At the second feast, she denounced Haman to Ahasuerus as a schemer set on destroying her people. In what may be the most amusing scene in all of Scripture, we see the king, furious at Haman, step out of the room. Haman prostrates himself over Esther's couch, pleading with her for his life. The king returns and in a jealous rage (as Esther planned), believes Haman istrying to rape his wife. Within seconds, the king orders Haman hung on the very gallows he had prepared for Mordcai.

In memory of Esther's trial, the thirteenth of Adar, the day before Purim, was declared a fast day, Ta'anit Esther, the "Fast of Esther." It displaced an earlier holiday that celebrated Judah Maccabee's defeat of a Syrian general, Nicanor.

For her courage and cleverness, also, Esther had an entire book named for her, Megillat Esther, the Scroll of Esther Only one other biblical book bears a woman's name, the Book of Ruth, which tells of yet another decisive, directed woman - but that is a tale for a different holiday.

The Scroll of Esther is read in synagogue on Purim eve and again the next morning, and all - men, women, and children - are obligated to hear it. Children stamp their feet and twirl their graggers, noisemakers, whenever Haman's name is mentioned, and they dress in costumes, as original as their imaginations dictate. But mostly, every little girl still prefers to  be Queen Esther.

-Jewish Days: A Book of Jewish Life and Culture Around the Year, Francine Klagsburn, pages 103-104

[plumede]

I am so very fond of Monty and Charles' relationship i made up in my head. 

I mean, imagine them sitting next to each other a bit awkwardly and Monty is apologizing for the wrong he did to Edwin, and swears that he didn’t know Esther would takes her revenge this far. 

Charles is suspicious, because he's still angry at him and he knows Edwin is too. Though, he's not here and isn’t it even stranger that the crow chooses to show up when his partner is not around, while his apology clearly should have been dedicated to him ? 

“But what if he still angry at me ? What if he never wants to forgive me or even hear what I have to say to him ? He was so kind and understanding with me. But now that he knows what I am, he has every right to be angry and repulse by me, right ?” Monty says, a bit desperate, and Charles got irritated because what he is, the complaint office ? 

“Why didn’t you try to stop the damn witch if you cares so much about him ? Why didn’t you try to change her mind ?” He snaps, the crow shuts up.

“ I couldn’t.” He finally says and something changes in Monty’s posture as if lead had fallen on his back. He shows guilt and something else Charles identified as nervousness. “she would have yelled at me.” 

“ Oh wow, the boy you pretend to care about was about to be tortured to death and you couldn't do anything because you were going to get yelled at?” Charles scoffs, still very bitter by this part of the story.

But Monty’s shoulders fall and he adds. “ She wouldn't just yell.”  In a whisper. “ it’s never just yelling.”

And maybe it’s the posture, maybe it’s the silences or the gloomy eyes, but Charles gets what is the meaning of never just yelling. He gets it even too quickly for his own good.

“She was hurting you.” Charles says, as if he were piecing together a part of the puzzle. 

Monty seems shocked, by the words or by the unexpected compassion he could hear in them. And he want to defend Esther because he made her sound so evil, and she wasn’t that bad with him, but all he can do is looking at the floor. 

“ If you disobeyed she would hurt you isn’t. It’s why you didn't say anything to her…or to Edwin ?” Charles adds, and talking to him is suddenly more intimidating than facing Edwin. 

Monty shook his head. 

“ I told you, I didn’t said anything because I didn't know the full plan." It's all he wants to say but for some reason, he continues "She just wanted me to be useful. To do things right— so I could make her proud.” 

Charles looks at Monty like he knows, like he understands everything there is to know in these words. He is not forgiving, still resentful but there is now a thin line than could connect them and it’s a step towards appeasement. 

And maybe Charles places a hand on Monty shoulder, maybe other details are share, others dialogues like : " you don’t have to put up with it anymore." "You free from her." "It’ll be alright now." 

And maybe there is some tears, and some pats on the back. 

But at the end, since he's the sinews of war — at least for Charles— he says : 

“ you should go talk to Edwin.”

[simstomaggie]

Esther Hair

This is a hair that I made after the Erin Hair, which is supposed to be a relaxed, messy style, but this one with a pretty updo. I'll probably make some more hairs with this mesh part, since I'm really proud of it ;)

it comes in the 24 ea swatches

base game compatible

Hat Chops

disallowed for random

TOU:

Please do NOT claim as yours.

Do NOT put behind paywalls.

Do NOT reupload.

DO recolor (without the mesh please!)

DO use for mesh edits

PLEASE give proper credit

HAVE a good time

DOWNLOAD ON PATREON (FOR FREE, NO EARLY ACCESS!)

DOWNLOAD ON CURSEFORGE

IF YOU’D LIKE TO SUPPORT ME, YOU CAN BECOME A PATRON, OR BUY ME A KO-FI. THANKS ♥

cc: @maxismatchccworld @mmfinds @mmoutfitters @public-ccfinds  ♥

[aristaspark]

What if Brooklynn and Kenji adopt a cat/dog (maybe both)? I need someone to do hc's abt what would happen---

No need to ask me twice.

- They're DEFINETLY dog people (especially Brooklynn) so when they decide to get a pet they immediately agree on a dog. (I wrote that as a headcanon then remembered that Kenji told his dad he's always wanted a dog in season 5 😂).

- Brooklynn hates small dogs, they irritate her, so that wasn't even an option.

- They hesitate btw a few breeds but eventually agree on a Saint-Bernard since they live near montains and love its big bear appearance.

- When they went to choose which puppy they wanted to adopt, one of them peed on Kenji when he picked it up, so Brooklynn insisted they chose this one, and strangely enough Kenji agreed (he took it as a sign the dog liked him).

- It's a female, of course they name her Esther.

- To mess with the camp fam they told them they were having a daughter, so for a whole week the others thought they were having a real baby. They hadn't predicted Sammy would send them a year's worth of baby clothes by the mail.

- At first they tried to get the puppy to sleep on the floor, but gave up after the first night because it wouldn't stop crying, so she slept at their feet. But after a few months she'd grown so much that she barely fit inside the trailer anymore, so they made her a huge kennel right next to them (it reminded them of when they built the camp on Nublar). They often joke about the fact that the kennel is fancier and more comfortable than their trailer.

- They put a camera (baby monitor) inside the kennel because they were so worried the first night she slept inside that they didn't sleep at all.

- Kenji wanted to take dog training classes, terrified of the idea that they might be doing anything wrong, but left before the end of the first lesson. He hated being told that his daughter wasn't perfect.

- Brooklynn, as the independant queen she is, predicted Kenji would be the one petting the dog all day but turns out she can't keep her hands off of it's furr for more than two minutes, and Kenji teases her about it all the time. He can't help but be endeared when she talks to Esther with her baby voice.

- Brooklynn has thousands of pictures of Esther on her phone and can't stop showing them off to everyone they know.

- They celebrate her adoption day every year with a cake with candles for them, and fancy dog biscuits for Esther.

- Kenji often takes Esther with him on his hikes, and of course when Brooklynn has the time she joins them.

- He sometimes also takes her with him when he teaches rock climbing. She has her own little spot and gets to be pet by his students.

- They're the annoying proud dogs parents who won't shut up about it.

- The funny thing is that they tried to make other dog-owner friends but found them annoying and overbearing as heck.

- During summer they often take her to the river near their trailer and play in the water with her.

- Everytime they had their weekly meetings with the camp fam she tried to get on the table to see the screen so they started putting the computer somewhere she could see, that way the others could also get to see her.

- She has a habit of stealing Brooklynn's phone when she's not looking and hiding it.

- Kenji's absolutely incapable of scolding her so Brooklynn always has to play the bad cop. Everytime she scolds her because she misbehaved, Esther goes to Kenji thinking she will get away with what she did which annoys Brooklynn to no ends.

- Brooklynn always teases Kenji, telling him that Esther reminds her of him (too much energy, loud, drooling when they sleep).

- They often argue over who they think Esther likes the most, but always end up agreeing on the fact that she'd pick food over the both of them any day. Or uncle Ben.

[shinehalley]

I've been rereading Emma these days and I think it has a lot of potential for an au. No, seriously, bear with me.

Edwin is like Emma - both have great confidence in their own observation skills and intelligence to the point of letting obvious things (including their own feelings) slip past their own knowledge. In addition, they are deeply touched by generosity and a desire to be helpful, although they are proud.

Charles is like Knightley - both are generous and helpful without any hesitation and do not mind openness in the people around them, especially those they desire as company. They are close friends with their respective peers and always regarded with the greatest esteem and consideration, even in the midst of disagreement. And there is the bitterness of jealousy that they try to hide with little success, too.

Niko is like Harriet - pretty, young and affable, always willing to accompany and make herself pleasant to those she cares about. A bit romantic and emotional about her own and others' romantic pretensions, but a bit uncertain about what to actually do with those pretensions. She may be swayed at first by well-articulated words, but her own desires are always heard in the end.

Crystal is like Robert Martin - they both seem to belong to a different reality, a different world, and they receive a certain amount of contempt for it. When they want something and are given the right incentives or are overcome by their own desire, they do not hesitate to reveal their intentions. Even in bitterness, they still try to be generous with those they care about and do not give up easily on those they love.

Cat King is like Frank Churchill - his good looks and affability are easy to please and he always knows how to make a smart comment or a well-placed compliment to charm those around him or those who have caught his eye. He clearly keeps his intentions hidden despite his attentions and seems much more willing to follow his own ideas of fun and comfort than to think about the consequences for those around him.

Monty is like Jane Fairfax - both prodigious and reserved, unfortunately a victim of they precarious living conditions that prevent they from truly having their talent and beauty recognized as deserved. The reserve can be seen as a secret that them hopes to hide from those around and most of they actions are for the purpose of pleasing someone else.

Esther is like Mrs. Elton - they both think they are more important than everyone else and are very vocal about it. They want to impose their will and demands on everyone else and establish harmful favoritism only to negatively affect other targets. However, they are elegant and well-positioned where they live.

Jenny is like John Knightley - with sarcastic remarks and sharp observations, both offers advice and opens the eyes of those around they even when doesn't mean to. No favoritism or unnecessary praise, just a person who does they job properly and shows affection in a somewhat unconventional way to those around.

Tragic Mick as Mr. Woodhouse - (I admit this was the hardest one to define, but I think it's the closest parallel I could find) both can be seen as obsessive about their physical misfortunes that are not resolved by anything, not even the various advice of those around them, and are always willing to give advice, solve or lament the problems of others. Their subjects are limited to mainly their own lamentations, but they genuinely care about people.

Genuinely thinking about writing a bit about this next year.

[thetisming]

i genuinely wish i could articulate my thoughts on nicky because sometimes i think it comes off as just 'hes gay and makes me sad' because thats easy to say and articulate but like. he is a character who doesnt matter. not just like tamara and micah and yuri and luca and flint, but he isnt in the story. hes optional. and like, hes really fucking strong. hes been training most likely his WHOLE LIFE. of course hes strong. he doesnt matter. hes optional and you simply dont have to see him and his dad doesnt even seem to care about him and ??? i know a lot of what im saying has been said but bear with me here. and understand that ! some of it i was thinking before i saw other people say it. which just means im right. anyways. 👍. also i talk about oliver a lot here because. well you ujderstand

"sometimes i pretend the whole reason this tournament exists is so that my father and i could fight each other. but i suppose that wont be happening now..."

"nicky?"

"ah, oliver! don't worry. i need not be consoled."

paraphrasing because i dont remember but! fuck!!! all he wanted was to impress his dad! and then when oliver tries to console him he just brushes it off!!!!!!

something else is that. he knows about the prophecy. he knows what the point is. the winner defeats the wizard king. and yet he still wants to win. isnt that fucked? he knows and yet he wants to win to impress his dad. this is something i think about all the time. hes willing to be doomed forever, just so his dad will be proud of him.

and like, again hes been training forever. and then what, this other kid comes along and he arrived in this world like, maybe a week ago? and he still wins. whatever. this is lightweight. but he keeps winning and it isnt fair because hes been training his whole life. and then he wins. he actually wins ultra-ultimate. and he goes on to defeat the wizard king, the thing he wanted to do to make his dad proud.

and then theres like. nickiver, right? sure, this kid is winning the tournaments but thats fine. because it isnt the main one. and hes pretty. and hes firery and stubborn and hes strong and he fights on his level and it's fun and theyre nemises and they argue. and this kid is also just fucking clueless when it comes to any hints about nicky's crush. and then this kid wins ultra-ultimate. and then he sees this kid win pandora's box. and maybe now, if he didnt before, he fully understands the complete weight of defeating the wizard king. because he loves this boy, and he opened the box. he opened the fucking box and he climbed the tower and if he didnt arrive in the world. nicky wouldve done that. for his dad. for his dad's thousand year revenge quest. and again he loves oliver. and he sees him change after defeating the wizard king and maybe they get married and maybe for a bit theyre happy. but oliver defeated the wizard king, which is what nicky was meant to do. it's a good thing he didnt. or maybe not, because it came at the price of oliver.

and like, hes a kid. okay. hes maybe 13, 14, around oliver's age. and he loves fighting and familiars and i doubt he has any friends and i doubt he has anyone. but then he has oliver and oliver is nice but also argues and hes so clueless and hes perfect. hes the perfect guy and nicky loves him and theyre friends (despite their nemisis status). but again oliver defeats the wizard king. and yeah i think nicky probably befriends esther but. he had oliver. oliver was possibly his first non-familiar friend (i do think his familiars are his friends even after the whole thing) and he has him and then he doesnt. and he slips away because of that fucking prophecy. and hes gone.

and also, nicky's scared of being unimportant. he wants to matter. he wants to impress his dad he wants to be important. and hes fucking not, and it's heartbreaking. he was removed from wotww. i say this a lot but every other named character had a cameo. almost every place had a mention. but not nicky (and not giovanni either) (unless you count. french car guy.). nicky doesnt matter. nickys unimportant. nicky doesnt impress his dad. he matters so much to me but overall oliver is the hero of the story so oliver is going to win. nicky is optional in dotdd but god thats better than him not being an option at all.

and something i always think about with the hope and hopelessness line is. nicky holds onto hope. and oliver doesnt. nicky, the neglected, optional, moon coded boy, holds onto hope. and oliver, the loved, hero, adored, sun coded boy holds onto hopelessness. we're given every reason to think it wouldnt be like that. but nicky holds onto hope and oliver doesnt and of course oliver doesnt because hes the hero. hes the pure-hearted one. these things dont just go well. hes the pure hearted one so of course he wants to defeat a great evil, even if it ruins him.

but nicky? he holds onto hope in the end. hope. the character who would make perfect sense to be hopeless, hes the one who holds onto hope. he has hope. maybe hope is all he has. either way, he holds onto hope. and that drives me crazy.

and hes also fun. hes a fun character! hes dramatic and his lines are cute and hes clearly in love with oliver and hes funny and charming! all of this tragedy, and hes so charming still. and i think that does a lot. like, a silly character who says things like 'exactly as i expected... from my NEMISIS!!!!!!!!!' and then you find out hes tragic and his father is neglectful and hes moon coded and he has a moon charm on his coat?? LIKE!!!!! YES!!!!!!!!! AWESOME. and to top it all off. hes even gay.

anyway i love nicky i hope this ?? made sense. if it ever seems like my thoughts on him dont go deep they do im just awful at words & enjoy to make silly posts. i like him a lot

[looneyleyle]

the self-destructive habits of a hopeless romantic ~ j. hughes

synopsis: monetizing one's self-sabotaging habits, surprisingly, has its downfalls. one of them being leaving that one attractive hockey player that is an absolute gentleman who loves you with his whole entire heart.

warnings: self-sabotage, self-deprecation, angsty (but with happy ending)

word count: 3425 words

note: once again unedited but i wanted to get this one out there

???'s pov

time and time again, the world has seen the self destructive habits of humans. well, that makes it seem serious. the world has seen the countless missed opportunities due to a fear of another's reaction. the world has seen the blunders due to saving face. the world has seen the heartbreaks due to miscommunication. time and time again, the world has seen how people sabotage their own lives for the dumbest reasons.

esther graham was no different.

in fact, she capitalized on her ability to put herself into the worst emotional distress possible. every heartbreak produced a great work of literature that would nearly sell out in bookstores all over the northeast. she wasn't a new york times best seller by any means, but she was a small town writer from mont vernon, new hampshire. she made a name for herself during her time at hamilton college in their creative writing program. in her junior year of college, she published her first book, woes of a teenage failure, a novel following what could have been for a young college drop out named sophia. the book was a hit amongst her peers and professors, and by word of mouth, ended up selling 200 copies. the book, as ms. graham remarked, was her own "what-if" story, as she almost dropped out of college the beginning of her sophomore year.

and how do i know so much about ms. graham?

well, because i am ms. esther graham.

and i'm here to tell you all about the biggest blunder of my life.

after my first book, i hit major writing block. i would stare at my computer screen for hours just to delete the only three words that i could come up with. i would sit in coffee shops, pen in hand, ready for inspiration to strike, and yet, nothing. i was nearing the end of my college career, riding on the coattails of my first and only book's success, and couldn't figure out how to continue. my professors taught me plenty of ways to try and combat writer's block, but nothing worked.

until i met ryan. a devilishly handsome man all the way from the cheese state of wisconsin, who was meeting up with some college friends for the annual boston beanpot. we had our meet cute at a nearby pizza joint, in which i sat down and started chatting with him, thinking he was a publisher that i was supposed to meet with. after realizing my blunder when he had absolutely no idea what an anthology was, he asked if i wanted to join him and his friends at the beanpot, as one of their friends had cancelled, leaving them with an extra ticket.

ryan and i dated for four months. we would take turns traveling between my college in new york and his in wisconsin until eventually it became too much, or should i say, too little for him, and he broke it off. in my rage and complete depression from the breakup, i wrote my next hit, until the sun sets, a 142-page anthology of gut-wrenching poems, which was eventually integrated into hamilton college's curriculum for their young adult modern literature class. i was quite proud of that.

after that, i found myself yet again staring at blanks screens and empty notepads.

that is, until chloe. a beautiful new york native whom i had actually met while dating ryan. she was a hostess at a restaurant ryan and i would always go to. she was pursuing her masters in psychology, which gave me fascinating insights and tactics to use in my books. we were never officially together, but we had something for almost three months before she was whisked off by some californian named ella. i never saw her again, which prompted my next book, the ninth floor, a murder mystery following a closeted lesbian couple in 1940's hollywood (it was one of the girlfriends the whole time).

at this point, when i hit a creative block for the third time, i realized that i needed my heart or brain to be in absolute shambles in order to produce my best work. i needed to be at some sort of life crisis, and the easiest way to do so was to love another and let that love be ripped out of your life.

so, i began dating for the sake of my career. it was like i sought out the most manipulative, scummy people in the world who were able to get away with it just because they were attractive. over the course of a year, my first year out of college, i dated a total of three men and one woman, and poured my emotions out into a collection of short stories titled lavender.

and that was when i met jack.

i was in new jersey for a book signing at this little bookstore which, as it turns out, was right by the prudential center. as i left the bookstore, i was nearly run over by an overly excited man-child with a giant bag slung upon his shoulder.

"luke, watch out, you nearly killed that woman!" a voice yelled from where the man came from.

"i'm so sorry about that miss, my brother can get a bit overexcited sometimes." looking at the person talking to me, i found a young, very attractive brunet with the most adorable smile. i straightened myself up instinctively, wanting to appear presentable.

"no worries. if you don't mind me asking, what got him so riled up that he almost trampled me?" the man let out a laugh at my statement.

"of course, we owe you at least that much for your near-death experience. he just got nominated for the calder trophy." he explained, as if those words meant anything to me. seeing my blank stare, he clarified. "a rookie of the year award. we play for the new jersey devils." the boy in question came up and joined us, grinning ear to ear.

"ahhh, i see. i'm not a big hockey watcher, which i know is absolute blasphemy for someone who grew up in new hampshire." his jaw nearly dropped.

"you're from up here and don't like hockey? we have to change that." he exclaimed. in my peripheral vision, i could see his brother trying to hide his laughter at his brother's forwardness.

"ill have to come and watch a game sometime." i mused.

"we have a game coming up next week against the blue jackets. i could maybe snatch you a seat in exchange for your number." he proposed. his brother snorted at that, having to turn around to hide his obvious laughter. the man paid his brother no mind, just looking at me with a big smile on his face.

"trying to bribe me mister?"

"is it working?" i put my hand out and he immediately put his phone in my hand, adding my information into his contacts.

"esther? that's nice, you look like a esther." i quirked an eyebrow at him, but continued on anyways.

"and you? what should i call you?"

"call me yours. or jack, either works." the brother was doubled over on the floor at this point, jack finally acknowledging him by kicking him slightly, making him fall over.

"anyways, ms. esther, we have to get going, but ill see you next week at our game." he put out his hand for me to shake.

"you've got yourself a deal jack."

and just like that, jack and i started talking. his eagerness was cute, he texted me no more than ten minutes after meeting me. we talked every day, mainly on calls, asking each other questions and such to get to know each other.

and sure enough, the next week, i found myself back in new jersey watching the brothers play. i assumed jack was going to be some sort of benchwarmer or something, but that didn't seem to be the case. despite my lack of hockey knowledge, i could tell the boy was good, and he had quite a fan base if the amount of women wearing his jersey meant anything. and i felt severely out of place, simply wearing a grey sweater and jeans, unlike everyone else in the stands, decked out in red.

after that, i found myself going to a couple more hockey games, for no particular reason. jack would try to explain the game over video calls and our occasional coffee meet ups, but i couldn't for the life of me wrap my head around it. why do they all get off the ice every five seconds? and what the hell is offsides?? jack always laughed at my confusion, telling me that i'd get it one day.

we spent a couple months thriving off of video chats and once-in-a-blue-moon hangouts, until i got a job as an editor for a local paper. i was good at editing, always having good grammar and an eye for design, but it wasn't my dream. despite it not being my dream, i needed a stable income, and fast. my mind was devoid of ideas, and it didn't seem like that would change any time soon.

plus, it helped that this stable income happened to be in new york city, putting me a lot closer to a certain someone. and, with me being closer, that certain someone would pop on by a lot more than before. and eventually, chinese takeout dinners turned into staying the night, which turned into coming up for the weekend, which turned into the line of friendship being crossed into something more.

and then, i made the dumbest mistake of my life.

i let him go.

now, i know what you must be thinking. he must have done something wrong, he must have cheated or neglected me or done something so completely unforgivable that i would just throw away the most amazing thing in my life. and i wish i was here to tell you that was the truth.

but it wasn't.

jack was nothing but a gentleman, and i was just a broken girl doing the only thing i knew how to do: leave. i like to tell myself that it was for my career, that i needed to write another book, that i wasn't fulfilled in my job and that i was putting myself first by doing this, but i was perfectly content with my life. i was an editor for a major publishing company, i started writing little happy poems about my mundane life with jack, and wanted nothing more. i had no reason to run away. i just woke up in his bed one day and realized that i wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and i couldn't accept that. i had gotten so used to leaving people that i assumed that they would leave me if i hadn't done so first, and i couldn't lose the one real thing i ever had.

so naturally, my self-destructive, self-sabotaging self let him go, the exact opposite of what i wanted.

and when i got back to my apartment after writing jack a confusing and half-assed letter, i cried. i cried and cried and cried, and i always wrote about characters crying until they couldn't anymore, but that day, i couldn't find the end to my tears. for hours tears would either slowly leak or violently pour from my eyes, and they never did end, not even when i passed out on my couch from exhaustion.

and after a week, i was expecting to pick myself up and start writing my next best seller, coping with my writing. but i sat there, and my florescent computer screen simply sat there, staring back at me. and when i left my apartment for a change of scenery, the blank pages of my notebook mocked me. i flipped through past works, all of them being little poems about jack, and the waterworks continued, right in the middle of a starbucks.

after a week and four days, i couldn't take it. i had to make things right, i had to at least see him. it always worked in the books, right? someone makes a huge mistake, they break up, they see each other again and realize they're both miserable without each other and then get back together and live happily ever after.

when i knocked on the door to jack's apartment, i was met with an unimpressed looking luke. at the sight of him, the waterworks started up again.

"you're an idiot, you know that?" i nodded furiously at this, sobs wrecking through my body. i couldn't see through the tears in my eyes, but i could tell the luke hadn't moved a muscle.

"he deserved better and you know that." i felt my soul being crushed. "i mean, a letter? seriously esther? and a half-assed one at that. i know damn well you don't have a degree in creative writing for that bullshit."

i opened my mouth to explain, but nothing came up. what would i say, that i was a broken person? cop out. that i did it to everyone? not much better. that i got scared? fucking coward.

"if you think that you deserve to see my brother, then i'll let you in." he told me, moving out of the way, door open wide. i just stood there, staring at him through teary eyes. my brain cheered, finally able to go in, but my feet wouldn't move.

my heart still clenched and ached, and with every thought of moving forward, into that apartment, it hurt more. jack didn't deserve this. after all the nights of him reading my poems about him and praising my work, after all the sweet things he'd say when i was down, after all the little acts of kindness he showed me, after all the love he poured into us, he didn't deserve to be broken by me. hurt people hurt people, the scholars had that right. he didn't deserve to be broken.

and so, i got ready to leave, again.

"i'm sorry." was all i said, turning around with heavy legs and a heavy heart. i heard luke let out a sigh as i walked away, closing the door behind him.

a couple of days went by and i found myself back at their apartment. i knew they wouldn't be there, they had an away game in anaheim the night before, and i knew from my time with jack that they would always spend the night in the city before coming back, especially after a win, a 5-0 win no less.

i stood there in front of their door, a small box in my hands, contemplating. jack didn't deserve this, but a selfish part of me needed this. i placed the box gingerly outside of their door and left the building. if the box was taken by some nosy neighbor, or thrown in the trash by some janitor, then it would be fate. it would be a sign to move on. but, there was a chance that jack and luke would come back to their apartment, and would pick up the box, and jack would recognize my handwriting. and, instead of throwing the box in the trash like any normal self-respecting person receiving a box from their shitty ex, he would take it to his room, and open it up to see my notebook, with a bookmark starting at the pages when i first started seeing him. and he would read the poems and maybe, just maybe, he'd see the note written on the bookmark to meet me at the park near his apartment, and maybe, just maybe, he'd be willing to hear me out.

i went to that park every single day for exactly one month and six days, always arriving by 1 pm, never late. and i would stay there until 4 pm, waiting.

on the 37th day, i was sitting there, editing, funnily enough, a sports column about the recent devils and islanders game. i watched it, absolutely terrible game it was, the islanders beating the devils for the first time in the season. our sports journalist, while passionate and very knowledgeable about seemingly every sport out there, had a knack for writing long, run-on sentences that reflected his rambling nature. as i sat there on the same park bench i had been sitting on for the previous 36 days, a figure stopped in front of me. i finished up the sentence i was working on before looking up.

and while i hate cliches, the wind was absolutely knocked out of my lungs.

"h-hey jack." i started, immediately putting away my work, giving him my full attention.

"hey esther." a shiver ran down my spine from him just saying my name. it had been so long, and while it lost its loving tone, i welcomed it with open arms. jack moved, taking the spot next to me, looking out at the trees in front of us. when it became apparent he wasn't going to say anything, i started the conversation.

"i see you read the notebook."

"i finished it three weeks ago." he replied, voice lacking its usual emotion. tears welled up in my eyes. three weeks.

"oh."

"i came here immediately after finishing it." i felt my eyes bulge out of their sockets at that. he continued, "i went to that bench over there and watched as you fidgeted in your spot, looking frantically at everyone who passed by. i watched the next day as you sat in the pouring rain with no umbrella. i sat over on that bench every day that i was here since reading your notebook."

a silence fell upon us, my mind reeling, trying to figure out what he was trying to say, from his emotionless face to the fact that he came.

"do you know how much it hurt? waking up to empty sheets and some half-assed note with the lamest excuses on earth?" i hadn't really paid mind to the tears rolling down my cheeks until he brought that up, sending me back to that morning, quickly scribbling out some gibberish before leaving the best part of my life behind.

"i was going to wait another month, y'know. to see if you were still gonna come here every day."

"so why didn't you?" i asked, sniffling intensely, trying to calm down my sobs.

"luke said i was absolutely miserable without you. coach told me i wasn't focused. my teammates pointed out that i barely left my apartment. the icing on the cake was when my mom started asking if you would be coming over to the lakehouse this summer. i realized, as pathetic as it seems, that i can't live without you."

my attempts at stopping my crying were thrown out the window at that. i could probably fill the hudson river with the amount of tears i had shed over the past two months.

"how can i make it up to you. please, please let me make it up to you." i begged, fully facing him, my hands angrily playing with the sleeves of my shirt because if i didn't, i would be reaching out to the man in front of me.

"never pull that shit again." he bargained, looking me dead in the eyes for the first time in months. and in that moment, i saw just how bad he was doing. sunken eyes with heavy bags, his skin dull, hair slightly unkempt under his hat.

"never again." i promised, putting out my pinky to him, something he would always do when he promised me to not get hurt in games. he let out a hoarse laugh, looking away from me, and when he looked back, i saw the tears brewing in his eyes. he took my pinky in his and held it there, between us.

"now, i'm not gonna just take you right back after all that. that was really shitty and i need some time to get over that. but, as i've found out, i can't really function without you. so maybe you could start with coming to my games again, and i could take you out for coffee next week."

"sounds perfect."

i accepted my life as an editor for the local newspaper, accepted that i probably wouldn't write another page-turning sell-out book, accepted that i was completely content with whatever happened to me, so long as jack was there with me.

and with that, my self-destructive, soul-crushing, heart-breaking tendencies reached their end.

[makemeimmortalwithahug]

2024 WRITING REVIEW

thank you for the tag @ahyperactivehero !!

stress free tags: @oddessea @nix-nihili @read-write-thrive

number of stories posted to ao3: 8! Exclusively Dead Boy Detectives and I started in August, there will be more in 2025!

word counted posted for last year: 45,885 words

fandoms i wrote for: Dead Boy Detectives

pairings: mainly payneland, but also palasaki

stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads:

kudos: I'll Love You Carefully - A cursed Edwin falls from the Tower Bridge and Charles rushes to his rescue

bookmarks: also I'll Love You Carefully (something about protective!Charles just hits right)

comment threads: The Road to Ruin - Edwin gets taken to Hell for the second time but Charles is in a much much worse mental state

work i’m most proud of (and why):

it must be The Road to Ruin because I am actually proud of my characterisation of Charles and it's my first attempt at a multi chapter fic, so that alone is enough for it to have a special place in my heart. I love really getting into the Hell aspect of it all and I think the introspective nature has something to it that I previously never quite managed to capture with my writing.

work i’m least proud of (and why):

probably How Could You Think, Darling, I'd Scare So Easily? - Charles gets capture by Esther and Edwin rescues him Tam Lin style. It was the second fic I ever posted but I have to say I should've worked longer on it. It's not bad but I realised that it could've been more angsty and it feels kind of rushed when I reread it now

share or describe a favorite review you received:

it was so hard to pick just one because I love every single comment and they all make me stay motivated and want to get better. But if it's just one, then probably this one:

(sorry for all the tags btw, oddessea dear, you've been such a huge part of my journey on ao3, I cannot thank you enough!)

I think this is the one comment that genuinely made me tear up because I had been struggling with the way I wanted to write this fic and reading that it apparently worked out was just absolutely bloody wonderful

a time when writing was really, really hard:

Probably the last few weeks because I have all of these ideas but also a lot of pressure (put there by myself, mind) to have them turn out perfectly. I won't get into any details, but real life hasn't been too good either for a while now, so it's hard to get into the right mindset sometimes. But it will get better

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

Crystal surprised me a lot! I adore her so much and I want to do her complexity justice and while I don't think I have posted a lot of Crystal yet, I enjoyed writing my palasaki fic Bloom Like A Flower so much because it allowed me to show that while Crystal is incredibly powerful and has been through a lot, she's still a teenager

a favourite excerpt of your writing:

I think this one stuck with me:

He pressed Charles even closer to himself, as if he wanted to embrace him fully, so as to not let any of his demons reach Charles in any way. Charles moved to brace his hands against Edwin, somewhere between resting them on his shoulders and pressing them against his collarbones. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to push Edwin away in desperation or pull him closer until no one could untangle them anymore. Edwin was coming undone around him and there was nothing for Charles to do to ease his pain. It was obvious that whatever Edwin was seeing, hearing, feeling, it was paranoia and not something Charles could see. How could you help someone who saw the world burning and crashing around them while you were still standing on solid ground, mere millimeters between both of your realities? - The Case of the Turning Key

how did you grow as a writer last year:

A lot, seeing as I had never written fanfic before and had been struggling with my original works for so long that calling it "writer's block" would've been a huge understatement. So just the fact that I managed to finish 7 (!) fics is already a huge accomplishment for me. Apart from that, I got better at finding the characters' voices when changing POVs.

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.)

shoutout to a few people as well!

I obviously have to thank @im-perfectly-normal-about-this for listening to my yapping about various ideas in dms and giving me feedback on my Charles characterisation! I appreciate you so much!

Also dear @oddessea for making my day with every single comment you write!

And then of course the entire DBDA Haunt server. Joining was probably the best decision I made in 2024 and all of our discussions in the writers room are so special to me.

Thank you to: @genevievefangirl, @ahyperactivehero, @read-write-thrive, @moonikabear, @dead-but-still-sarcastic, @zmorak (I'm so sorry if I forgot anyone! Y'all are all so loved!!)

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year:

definitely, little nods to things I enjoy or have done myself. I am good at projecting my own insecurities and problems onto Charles and of course the best example would be Days by the Sea - the agency goes on vacation in Scotland. That was entirely created from my wish to someday visit Scotland

any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

have fun!! When I don't pressure myself into writing and just do it for fun, I get the best results, not because they're perfect or anything, but because I genuinely enjoy working on them and then also feel good about finishing them. Having fun is already a big step

any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year?

The Road to Ruin will defintely find an ending in 2025! Apart from that, I obviously have my F1 AU that I've been yapping about. A different Modern AU and then let's see what I'll come up with next 👀 I'm looking forward to this year <3

[exgirlfiend]

I think my hottest take when it comes to my interpretation of swaine (not actually, I absolutely have way more controversial takes but like,, I’ve read so many fics where this was a point of contention for me so it’s worth bringing up) is that I don’t think he intended to become a thief nor do I think he’s particularly keen on continuing doing it after the events of the game. I honestly think he became a big time thief mostly just because of his loss of restraint and his nightmare, not particularly bc he wanted to. and even if that’s not the case, I definitely don’t think that was like,,, his initial goal when he ran away. I mean, if he was trying to figure out his purpose and make his father proud of him, I really don’t think a life of crime would be his first choice. or even second choice. plus, in dotdd he has multiple lines of dialogue where he makes it pretty clear that he DOESN’T like thieves (and in wotww when esther makes a jab about him stealing, he tells her that she’s “dredging up ancient history”, so I don’t think he still actively considers himself a thief after joining the party,,, even if I do think the joke was actually meant to be about him stealing from the party specifically). also, the first thing he does in order to show off his gun to oliver is to open a chest, which is something oliver also does very frequently. not steal with it. and all of his pistol upgrades increase their attack stat but don’t meaningfully change their ability to steal (I mean, the item description for the rogue’s revolver notes that it’s better at unlocking chests, but none of them say anything about their ability to steal specifically. bc his main skill is actually his damage output. in dotdd he doesn’t even USE his gun to steal he does it with his hand!). and like yeah all of that can be explained away as just gameplay stuff and not indicative of his character (you could even argue that his miracle move IS stealing so obviously it’s still a pretty big part of his character) but…I just think it’s interesting to think about.

[whimsicaldiaeries]

જ⁀➴ SESSION 1: School Bus Graveyard TTRPG 🍓 ̟ !! ‧₊˚ ⋅

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ PROLOGUE I. First Day of College / Field Trip to Savannah

CHARACTER INTRODUCTIONS

in order (L-R)

Ereighkauh Torres-Santiago / erika

Beatrix y Alvarez / eros

Parker Claymoore / tsugi

Esther Sterling / bri

and our wonderful Game Master, @i-eat-pretty-things

watch the live stream here!

NPC INTRODUCTIONS

ISAIAH REED

right hand-man of ereighkauh torres-santiago in the brushfire syndicate

• manages the syndicate whenever ET-S isn't present

• closest friend and confidante of ET-S

APOLLO MARTINEZ

beatrix's drummer in their band SAINT and one of her closest friends

• fine arts student

• keeps bea in check and practically acts like her older brother

NATALYA ROMANOV

parker's academic buddy turned sour rival

• used to deeply respect parker until he got framed for cheating (oblivious to the truth)

• parker switched courses after the incident and natalya thinks herself better than parker for staying in medicine

ADALSTEIN STERLING

esther's beloved father

they still have yet to have official char art i'm sorrry :((((

CHARACTER SHEETS

EREIGHKAUH TORRES SANTIAGO

PARKER CLAYMORE

BEATRIX Y ALVAREZ

ESTHER STERLING

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ PROLOGUE I. First Day of College / Field Trip to Savannah

P.S there might be extra detail on ereighkauh's P.O.V since i play her and pay the most attention to her scenes/moments

CALL TIME: 9:00 A.M.

ESTHER . . . wakes up at 4:30 A.M., diligently doing all her chores, read a few books, takes a walk and cooks a wonderful breakfast for her father and herself

BEATRIX . . . wakes up at 6:00 A.M., switching through outfits and seeing what fits her best, and indulges in a 1-hour everything shower alongside a meticulous skincare regimen

EREIGHKAUH . . . wakes up at 7:45 A.M, late due to her tiring commitment last night from her brushfire syndicate organization. frenzied, she whips her outfit up on a hurry, does her hair buns poorly, and barely eats breakfast

PARKER . . . wakes up at 4:00 A.M., diligently doing all his chores and training, catching the bus early

FIRST NPC INTERACTION

ADALSTEIN STERLING bids his daughter, esther, an excited and proud goodbye with heartwarming "i love you"s

A.S : got everything you need, sport? E.S : mhm! A.S : *hug* you got this champ E.S : thanks father :) i'll be on my way! A.S : don't forget to text me when you're on your way to school! love you!

APOLLO MARTINEZ sneaks up on his bassist, beatrix, and checks up on her

A.M : ey good mornin' ! wonder when you were gonna wake up! B.A : get your hand off of me! who wonders where that hand has been! could've been up your ass or somethin' A.M : *dramatically puts his hand on his chest in faux offense* and i thought you knew me by now, beatrix! i don't just put my hand in anywhere ;) B.A : okay, you gotta stop making these gross comments. i'm gonna throw up on you! A.M : *gasp* don't you dare! this is new and i got this for our band practice (flexes awesome outfit) B.A : come on, we gotta get to school now >.> A.M : whatever you say ... *pettily starts rubbing his hand on her shoulder aggressively out of spite*

ISAIAH REED calls up ereighkauh to check up on her and her first day of school

E-T.S : *answering the phone in a hideous comedic angle, down with her double chin* what do you want. i'm stressed. I.R : *also calling from a hideous zoomed angle from up his forehead* i was sta- wh- why the hell do you look like that ?? why do you look like that esme ?! look at your hair! E-T.S : don't even ask. it's the first day of school and i woke up late 'coz of yesterday! I.R : first day and that's the impression you're gonna make, mate? E-T.S : whatever! why're you calling this early?! I.R : just makin' sure to check up on ya! you told me something about school starting at 9:00 A.M., it's 8:15 now? E-T.S : i'm gonna find a way ... I.R : anythin' you want me to look after while you're in your first day? E-T.S : i'll come by over there after school. just make sure everything's going okay, and could you check up on our supply stock in the safehouse? i think we're running out I.R : alright, go ahead and catch up somehow. don't get sweaty now!

NATALYA ROMANOV bumps into parker at the bus stop

N.R : ...parker. didn't expect to see you taking the bus today. P.C : *sigh* yup, it's me, taking the bus today. i gotta take these ones to the academic supervisor otherwise i won't be able to get on the first day of school. N.R : and i thought you had given up already. like the traitor you are. P.C : if this was about the cheating, i told you it wasn't me! *awkward long bus ride ensues*

FIRST PERIOD (omg this part bruh HAHAHAHAH)

apollo martinez and beatrix y alvarez enter the classroom, apollo sees 2 vacant seats next to ereighkauh and sits beside her

APOLLO : *sits down besides ereighkauh, sits up with his legs on the table* hola senorita, how're you doin? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) EREI : *looks at him up and down* uhh ... nice outfit you got there. bet you get a lot of compliments with it. APOLLO : i mean, compliments are great'n'all, but they really mean more when they come from someone with similar taste. bet you get a lot of compliments too, hm? *glances at her hot pink jacket* EREI : *leans on her palm, visibly amused. sees his drumsticks poking out of his backpack* hm. you play in a band? APOLLO : oh yeah, i actually got band practice with my bestie over hereee... *points to beatrix* hey bea! check out this cutie! BEATRIX: *unimpressed* really? putting your dirty shoes on the table like that? (insert more insults too many to mention) *sits next to ereighkauh* EREI: *quite awkward as the two are bantering and she's seated in between them* uh, your outfit looks nice too (at bea) BEATRIX: *smirks at erei and leans in closer* oh, now you're making me blush! but seriously, you've got good taste. i mean-- if you want a real compliment, we could talk more. you're not too bad yourself. EREI: INTENSE BI PANIC (had to cut the scene due to intense bi panic XDDDDDDDDDDDDDD)

no guys random comment, in out of character i was PANICKING FR kasjdhaksh bi panic was real oh my GOD i was not speaking coherently anymore GAGHSJDAKSDHAS

SECOND PERIOD (GenEd History)

esther, being organized and prepared as usual, checks her to do lists for the day on her notion (we love an organized girlie) and heads to class early.

a while after, erei and bea arrives to class together, and erei sees esther sitting by the windowside. she approaches esther

EREI: hey! this seat taken? :) ESTHER: no- oh! esme! didn't know we were taking the same class! EREI: i know! relieved to finally see a familiar face again T.T how's first day of school goin' for ya? ESTHER: it's kind of the same, really. i don't talk to anyone as always. you know how nervous and shy i am with people! EREI: typical esther. ESTHER: pfft, shut up! anyways, where's your friend? i saw that you were talking to a ... purple girl! EREI: well yeah! she's actually with me right now! *shifts to unblock the view, revealing bea* ESTHER: oh, gosh, didn't see you there. hi! i'm esther! BEA: *socially awkward, goes blank and just stares at her for a few seconds* oh. i'm bea. beatrix. *plops down her bag and sits down without waiting for esther's response* ESTHER: ah- i see ... OvO *shifts over to erei* your new friend is ... very interesting! you know, she's actually pretty... pretty enough to- is she your type? EREI: *glances at bea, realizing that she's actually pretty cute... appearance wise. personality wise, not so much yet.* she's pretty cute, i'll give her that. ESTHER: well, if anything happens between you, give me a call, okay? ;)

punkstar ship canon ASJKHBDFJKASHF

mr. thomas (NOOOO) enters the classroom, bringing along parker after they sorted his papers out. parker finally moves to a seat, besides beatrix, and she ends up touring him on her sketchbook and artworks. parker, in genuine curiosity, admires bea and bea in turn feels happy with his presence. (HES SUCH A WHOLESOME CINNAMOROLL PLS !!! MUST PROTECC !!!!)

as mr. thomas commences the class, he invites all the students to introduce themselves. ereighkauh feels a striking sense of familiarity when parker introduces himself, mentally noting to keep an eye on him.

mr. thomas introduces his class's group semester project: a historical documentary about savannah. after some talking'n'mingling, the four characters eventually form their group. mr. thomas hands out the pink slips to the students for the field trip to savannah: where it'll all start ...

AFTERSCHOOL ACTIVITIES

EREIGHKAUH . . . stops by at the brushfire syndicate's safehouse, checking in on its state and supply stock

ISAIAH : oi! there she is! EREI : hey, it's me! remember that thing i told you to check up on earlier morning? supply stock? ISAIAH : yeah 'bout that, we are indeed running outta 'em a little bit. more on food and medicine. and one of our guys kinda sprained an ankle, so we had to just make a makeshift cast. we can see that medic, yeah? the one that patched up johnny the last time around? (parker mention?!) EREI : yeah! tell the others to get restock the supplies soon, we'll need it probably. ISAIAH : gotcha. any activities for the day, ereighkauh? EREI : nope. not much.

BEATRIX . . . goes to band practice with her two bandmates: apollo and rayne.

BEATRIX, oddly enough, doesn't seem focused as she tunes her guitar. she recalls the events of earlier, specifically when she caught a few words from esther and erei's exchange-- overhearing that beatrix was actually erei's type.

APOLLO : *noticing her lack of focus during practice* uhh, hey? earth to beatrix? BEA : what? what do you want from me? APOLLO : uh, hello? we're about to start- you're kinda spacing ouut! heeey, what's gotten into you? BEA : n- nothing. damn it, why am i even thinking about this? APOLLO : hmmm. yeah that definitely looks like "nothing" there bea.. okaay, what's goin' on? is it that little bubblegum girl at art class? BEA : i- it's not! i don't even know what you're talking about! *plays her guitar louder than usual over his voice* APOLLO : ey ey eyy! careful with the guitar, man! you're gonna break the strings! BEA : i'm gonna break your face next if you don't shut up about- bubblegum girl- whatever her name is! APOLLO : ah so you do know who i'm talking about ;)

ESTHER . . . passes by the grocery store to pick up some food, and checks her lists to buy. on the way home, erei pops in a text to esther.

erei: hey ezzy !!! erei: can i have dinner there for tonight ??? :3 i miss ur cooking :(( esther : Yeah, that would be great! :) esther : I'm just gonna cook dinner for my dad too esther : Then you can come over :)

ESTHER freshens up a bit in the shower before heading to the kitchen to cook dinner, whipping up a simple dish with sausages and sauted vegetables. EREIGHKAUH shows up at her doorstep.

esther serves a delicious meal with steak, sauted vegetables, scrambled egg, and java rice. erei takes a mental note to make esther her personal chef when she becomes ultra-rich XD.

erei, during dinner, talks about her potential budding crush on apollo, and asks esther if she could accompany one of her org's men to restock the food and medicine supplies tomorrow. P.S esther is the only outsider aware of erei's occupation, and occasionally helps & supports the org's needs from time to time

PARKER . . . having his permission slip signed by his aunt, walks outside his house to see natalya. he greets and waves natalya

PARKER : hey natalya ! :D what's up? are you waiting for someone? NATALYA : hm, parker. how was the first day? PARKER : oh, well, it was good! :D i uhm, i got to know some people !! ^__^ you know, there was this one girl and she had very interesting art skills, and there was this other girl- i don't think she's from here, she knows how to cook! isn't that cool? and there was this one girl, i think she was wearing a very interesting unique pink jacket! for some reason, it kinda reminds me of a bubblegum ... what about you? :D NATALYA : you're telling me that you got with some girls. ._. PARKER : uh - i mean, they seem interesting enough! they're nice people :DD NATALYA : *raises eyebrow* and how am i supposed to believe the words of a cheater? PARKER : aha, well, natalya ... i told you this already: look, it wasn't me who cheated :( but if you don't believe me, well, you could see it for yourself !! especially the bubblegum girl, she was very approachable! NATALYA : i have no time to talk with such a traitor. PARKER : so cold :( we used to be buddies ... come on! i'll treat you, it's after school, do you have anything to do today! don't you wanna hang out like we used to? we're still friends... aren't we? :( NATALYA : you? taking me out? PARKER : mhm! my treat! you did exceptionally well on your exams, so why not? :D NATALYA : and here i thought we stopped becoming friends after you shifted ... PARKER : doesn't hurt to have a friend, hm? :D NATALYA : ...i'll have to think about it. i have some lab stuff to deal with today.

DAY OF THE FIELD TRIP

eventually, everybody reaches savannah. the group mates come together and tour around the place to see what information they could pick up on. walking down the street, a voice follows them, a tour lady:

"hey! could i all interest you in a tour of the sorrel-weed house? it's free of charge!"

esther, initially hesitant and even slightly suspicious on this offer, rejects the woman. ereighkauh, however, presses the group on accepting the offer- as 'it might be difficult to get back here later on'. and the infamous line: WHAT'S THE WORST THAT COULD HAPPEN!  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ stubborn and unrelenting, erei pushes through despite bea and esther's hesitances.

the tour starts with the introduction of the house's haunted history, taking them from room-to-room, until the tour lady takes a sudden phone call and leaves the group together in the living room.

ESTHER : well. seems like we were left alone here, huh? so where's your free tour, hm, erei? EREI : ....... FREE SELF TOUR! whiiiich is even better 'coz we get to see all the details by ourselves! you know! BEATRIX : oh my god ... EREI : uhhh- WOW! look at this NICE SHINY THING ! look at meeee - i'm able to observe it - in detail - at my own will ! wooow!! *is pointing to set of keys* ESTHER : EREI. don't touch that. what if they walk in and see you having that - what if they say you're a thief ?! - what if we get kicked out from the house - or worse, get arre- EREI : ESTHEEER! hey, calm down giirlll! *pats her on the back* we'll be fiinee! you gotta loosen up every once in a while, like i said earlier - what's the worst that could haappeeeen! you don't get to see this often - like, be alone in a supposedly haunted unfamiliar house ... without any tour ...... that is not how i want it to sound it to be........ ESTHER: *staring in disbelief* you know what? what really is the worst thing that could happen ... maybe i am worrying too much. BEATRIX : por favor... EREI : what do you think, parker? getting a free tour in this cool house in savannah?! it's awesome isn't it! PARKER : well - wouldn't what you're doing be breaking the rules ? T__T as much as i want to, especially with you, such a cheerful girl as yourself, i think we should just stay and wait for our tour lady. esther's right - we shouldn't just waltz freely and invade the house - we don't want to do crimes now do we? :D EREI : *not listening as he talks, just going to the set of keys and taking it, beholding it for the world to see* BEATRIX : *mutters something in spanish, shooting a warning glare at erei* "if anything bad happens, you'll be the one to blame..."

erei, faintly recalling that there was this one room that they haven't explored yet, goes to unlock its door and ta dah - it's the basement! everybody else, in defeat, follow behind. esther stays behind erei, holding on to her shoulders. she grabs her hand, holding erei close. "can i hold your hand ?? i just wanna know that you're safe - and this basement scares me T__T " (shes too precious stop)

walking down the basement, it's actually quite well-lit! but a buzzing - a persistent ringing starts to linger in their ears - one that erei could faintly recall hearing in the incident. she grows slightly unnerved, but steels herself into descending down the basement.

erei arrives in the basement, everyone following behind her. she takes in everything with curiosity. in her peripheral vision, she sees something weird -

the ringing gets louder as she takes notice of it, and the creature stares at them. erei immediately turns her head towards its direction, but in a blink, it's gone. ( alnst blink gone mentioned ??) everybody notices that erei seems to just be staring at a dark corner in the room.

erei then convinces herself that it might've been her mind playing tricks on her - it is quite a dark basement after all, and she's pretty tired at this point of the day.

esther, concerned : erei? are you okay? seems like you saw something .. erei, snapping back to reality : yeah! no, i'm fine. just thought i saw something.

erei turns around to face esther, and there esther sees it again: this time, it's from a far distance - slowly reaching closer and closer behind erei.

esther, in horror at this sight, panickedly taps erei. erei turns around again, and there it is: face to face.

erei, equally panicked, falls down and stumbles back - and the phantom claws at her face before disappearing once again.

END OF PROLOGUE I

FUN DOODLES !!

HEYAAA OMG I HAD SO MUCH FUN IN THIS SESH !! dude this is just the prologue but we already spent like so many hours ... we played from 10 pm until 2:30 am how crazy is that !!

HAHAHAHAH WE WERE ACTUALLY ARGUING ABOUT THE PHANTOMS TEETH

AND OMG YHEHQWUHUEA having a crush on an npc is hard guys !!