#a designer said this and i think about it all the time that people think they know everything about clothes because they wear them

[wordswithkittywitch]

I have a YA novel plot kicking around with a very similar theme to that, actually.

Basically, we're in the generic YA nearly-apocalyptic future with a more fucked up government, and the "why would you have that law? Oh, because this is a YA novel, carry on" law is that once every ten years, the richest person in the country and their entire immediate family is killed, their assets stripped, and the wealth distributed across the country. However, if the five richest families are all under a certain threshold of wealth, no one is killed and everything carries on. This usually results in whoever's the richest families at the designated culling time donating just enough to get under the threshold to causes they would support anyway. No one is culled.

This has been going on for about fifty years, when the richest family in the country decides, "Fuck it, we're rich. We're going to hire a private army to protect us so they don't kill us and not donate our money to anyone." The protagonist, the teenage daughter in said family, thinks, "Oh, this is going to end fucking poorly. I'm leaving before I'm murdered."

She talks one of the gardening staff, a cute boy her age because of course he is, into helping her run away. She thinks, "This'll be easy. My parents are always talking about how their taxes and the money they've been donating to charity so they don't get culled are supporting all these lazy entitled jobless people, so I can just walk into any homeless shelter in the country and continue living an admittedly slightly less cushy life with my new identity, "just barely old enough to be a legal adult don't worry about it"-woman.

The actual plot is our heroine learning it actually sucks to be homeless, the charities are still not doing as much as is needed and it's hard to survive in her new identity, her "star-crossed YA romance" is not going as planned because suddenly he's treating her like an equal and not his boss and no one's done that to her before, and her family is being even stupider than she thought they'd be because not only are they holed up in a bunker trying to kill everyone trying to kill them, they've hired someone to hunt down the gardener who "kidnapped" her.

However, I have not started writing this because I have other books I do have an ending for to write first. Even this one is probably more marketable, sadly.

If elected as President, what changes would you make to labour laws?

Mandatory annual billionaire hunger games

[grvait]

more old art!! featuring theo and my human harley fan design!! RUN THEODORE RUN (he's cooked)

im gonna talk about chapter 4 under here so only click if ur ok with spoilers! also its a huge yapfest. like HUUGE. i just want to voice my opinions about prototype because i've seen ppl sort of miss the point of what happened at the end of the chapter

I LOVED CHAPTER 4! IT WAS SO COOL!! i was sooo worried but im glad it turned out good. rip pianosaurus tho..

tldr (for the bunch of paragraphs where I talk abt prototype)

prototype being ollie is deranged because it means he was terrorizing the toys of safe haven on purpose for the fun of it when he could have killed them at any time. he also created an extremely close emotional bond with poppy for OVER A DECADE just to tear it all away from her at the end and tell her it was meaningless (he then proceeds to taunt her over the phone abt it). bro is LITERALLY TROLLING

you cant tell me that final scene w the "ive got something special in mind. i prepared it just for you, and this time you'll never want to leave." isnt some tom and jerry shit

ABT PROTOTYPE REVEALING HIMSELF AS OLLIE... (the long explanation)

we ALL knew he was ollie, but i don't think people are seeing the point of this reveal. it wasn't about revealing himself to us the player, it's about the implications that arise from it. he had been playing both sides for 10+ YEARS. that's deranged enough but not even CLOSE to the end of it

as ollie he had emotionally supported poppy in her lowest moments (as heard in the ollie and poppy tape). this tape also insinuates that (at least around the time it was recorded) the two of them called frequently, possibly every night. he wasn't just pretending to be everyone's ally, he was PRETENDING TO BE THEIR CLOSEST FRIEND THAT THEY COULD VENT TO 😭 he heard this poor girl sob into the phone and tell him about how she felt her humanity being taken from her, AND HE KEPT UP THE CHARADE AND COMFORTED HER, KNOWING THIS PATH HAD BAD INTENTIONS

what's worse than all of that, though, is that him being ollie means that at any time in the last 10 years he could have used the persona to force his way into safe haven. AT ANY TIME HE COULD HAVE KILLED THEM ALL. HE COULD SIMPLY USE THE OLLIE VOICE AND ASK THEM TO OPEN THE DOOR. why is this worse, you ask? because HE WAS LITERALLY TERRORIZING THEM ON PURPOSE.

think about the note in the cart/cave area. a toy from safe haven writes that prototype was right outside the door the night before, he'd gotten past the traps and was just tapping on the wall and staring. they said after he was gone they still felt they could hear it. HE IS LITERALLY BEING SCARY ON PURPOSE???? LEGIT TRAUMATIZING THEM AND FOR NO REASON. HE COULD GET IN THERE, HE'S SIMPLY CHOOSING TO MAKE THEIR LIVES HELL

so thats crazy.. BUT ALSO THE ENDING? in the poppy and ollie tape he says "im right here, poppy. for you. i'll always be here." AND AT THE END OF THE GAME, WHEN POPPY ASKS WHAT HE DID WITH OLLIE, HE SAYS THAT. you know what that means? that means he said that shit to her ALL THE TIME. clearly only the two of them would be familiar with the phrase which is why after he said it, she immediately knew he was ollie the whole time

i feel bad for poppy. she ran off but she was valid for that. all her friends from safe haven are dead, the only ones left are the player, kissy and ollie, but she soon realizes that ollie is WORSE than dead. he is LITERALLY HER ENEMY. the thousands of conversations they had, probably hundreds of times she vented and told him her plans and discussed her life with him? ALL FOR NOTHING. any time she thought she was winning the past 10 years was a lie, she was ALWAYS LOSING because he was GETTING ALL THE INFO FROM THEM. she genuinely never had a chance and i think she realized that

in her dialogue you can tell she's grieving ollie (obviously he IS prototype, but i think she's grieving the thought of him). saying "you lied to me" to the prototype of all people is absurd (considering he's done far worse than lie) but when you think about how she feels, it makes sense.

also the part where she said "this isn't right". again, a weird thing to say to him of all people, but if you put yourself in her shoes she's grieving the friend she thought she had, and she's struggling to grapple with the fact that it all meant nothing. somewhere in her mind she believes "ollie" as a personality is there somewhere, because how could someone be that close with you and mean none of it? she thinks that voicing this pain he's inflicted will change his mind, but it won't. and that's why it's genuinely really sad. that's why she asks if there was ever an ollie. i don't think she meant it literally, and i don't think his answer was literal either. she didn't mean "were you a mf named ollie once" she meant it like "was our friendship ever genuine?" which makes his response both heartbreaking and interesting.

so not only is her world shattered now, most of her friends are dead and the one who wasn't turned out to be her opp, but now he's TAUNTING HER OVER THE PHONE AND THREATENING HER. nice one... (loved the quip after she ran off btw. that shit was hilarious. like bro u made her crash out and went "some friend, huh?" YOU CANT SAY THAT BRO)

anyway think of it from her perspective: everyone you knew is gone, and soon the only 2 people that remain will be too. you can't run, or hide, or do anything. he WILL find you, and when he does he'll lock you away FOREVER where NOBODY WILL BE LEFT TO SAVE YOU. I WOULD RUN TOO.............. plus her running off probably led him away so.. she saved us sorta.

ALL THAT TO SAY THAT I REALLY LIKE THE OLLIE REVEAL FOR REASONS FAR BEYOND A SIMPLE TWIST. him being ollie for over a decade raises many many questions, and suggests very dark things.

hes crazy and the fact he did a monologue means he knows he won. he wouldn't have spilled the beans otherwise...

[love-marimo]

The Strawhats x Model!Reader (Modern AU)

Lolita's Note: these are really short. just a few (some are platonic and some are romantic) headcanons for the strawhats with a model (gender neutral) reader! a bit of suggestive stuff (mostly crack) on sanji, zoro and brook's. enjoy ♡

cw: mentions of smoking and drinking.

Franky

he's going to be SUUUUUPER supportive about your career.

i imagine him to be a mechanic/engineer in the modern au so your pairing is definitely unconventional

will develop an app that detects nearby castings when you're on the go.

and if he can sit somewhere in the audience during one of your shows, he's gonna put up a sign that says something like "I LOVE YOU MY SUPER HOT PARTNER"

will might get kicked out for obnoxiously cheering for you.

Usopp

he'll definitely think you're cool and will brag about you a lot to his peers.

so much so that he'll make up lies like you're also secretly the designer, or you're the highest paid model (even if you aren't).

he gets so mesmerized when he sees you walk in those pretty clothes and he will definitely take photos of you.

like a lot

will run a secret fan account that you will never find out and he'll brag about you lots on there.

Robin

this woman has connections. a LOT of it. she's the most likely out of all the strawhats to sit front row because of how many people she knows and she's affiliated with.

you both follow each other on instagram and people love to see what you two post. you're definitely a power couple, both online and offline.

your stories and feed will scream quiet luxury and glamour, and everyone is here for it.

she'll help you grow in your career and you might even rise to the top because of her.

she's like your manager and she'll do it for free just because she loves you so much.

Nami

you will be models together. period. no questions asked.

absolutely goes crazy during fashion week. she'll plan all your outfits a year ahead and she's very good at predicting trendy pieces in every. season.

will go with you to every casting and will not settle if the directors don't hire the both of you.

like robin, your online presence will scream power couple.

but the difference is you'll post a variety of things online.

one moment there's the baddest, coolest, and most amazing runway photos of you both and the next there is a video of you having the worst jet lag ever.

Jinbe (if he was human)

need a bouncer? say no more. he's got you covered.

this man will immediately know if there are sketchy people who pretend to do castings.

so you will go to him for advice about it especially when you're just starting out.

if you have an international gig, he'll pack you a lot of essentials (toiletries, medicine, staple clothes, you name it) and he'll be your personal body guard until you reach the airport.

make sure to send him photos, he'll definitely collect those and all the magazines that has you in it.

Luffy

do not bring him to an hour long fashion show, or his restless ass won't take it.

that said, he's also going to be very supportive even if he doesn't understand and relate to your kind of work.

he's the type to wait for your turn and then leave once he knows you're not gonna show up anymore.

will go 0o0 every time he sees you in designer clothing. and he will ask for a photo before you set out to stage.

he's so oblivious that there was one time where he innocently and confidently asked the designer themselves to take a photo of you.

you were definitely scared of being reprimanded and black listed.

luckily his child like charm lets the both of you get away with it.

Chopper (if he was human)

poor baby, he's going to be so confused.

he has no idea how the modeling industry works but he tries his best!!

will get lost in thought, admiring all the models (especially you) who wear the most unbelievable and extraordinary (to his eyes) pieces he's ever seen.

he's that little brother who claps and goes starry-eyed even if he doesn't know what's going on.

in his head he's like "cool cool cool cool!!!"

if he catches you smoking backstage he gets angry, and the other models will find that cute.

the thing is though, he's so well versed in medicine that he convinces all of you to stop smoking.

Sanji

oh boy.

this man is even worse than franky

he's not gonna scream or whistle or do loud things in a regular show (rtw or haute couture)

but! BUT

do not invite him to a bikini show like the VS Angels.

this man will get a sensory overload and will collapse.

also runs a fan account about you and is SHAMELESS about it.

he will post the most out of pocket captions that you have to take his phone away for a week.

Zoro

this man is so fine that underwear and fitness companies want to hire him.

he is not interested. he'd rather see you model for a bikini calendar (which he'll definitely buy)

will also be your personal bodyguard. and he'll be secretly happy about it.

prefers to watch you model for photoshoots than walk the runway. he doesn't like waiting and he wants to focus on only you.

will be your personal errand boy and will take you out drinking after shows.

Brook (if he was still alive as a human)

this old man will either be the sound engineer, or the performer in one of your shows.

do not also take him to bikini shows or he will go around backstage reveling in all the panties he sees.

otherwise, he's pretty chill. he will socialize with other guests and talk about how pretty all the clothes are.

will also go to fashion week with you and get the attention of a lot of street photographers.

ー Lolita

[suzukiblu]

First 1k of the 5k I promised y'all as a thank-you for helping me out with that car insurance bill behind the cut; “YJ packs up and gets pupped”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He’d cry a lot harder, probably, but–no, he wouldn’t mind. Like . . . literally zero percent would he mind . . . mind anyone doing that for him. Even if Red Tornado only smells like metal and wires and machinery and, like, a little bit of clumsy scenting from Traya and maybe an even littler, subtle bit of it from, like–Kathy . . . 

Kon feels like an asshole for thinking it, but a dude who is a literal machine and doesn’t even have a designation or pheromones having, like–having even estranged packmates when he doesn’t even . . . when he’s never actually . . . 

Even in Hawaii, he didn’t have a pack. Like–Rex and Roxy had their family pack, and Tana had her family pack, and Dubbilex is a null and totally uninterested in packing up with anybody, which sometimes some shitty part of Kon’s wondered if that’s, like–if that’s why Cadmus picked Dubbilex to be his stupid fake “chaperone” or . . . whatever. Because Dubbilex–Dubbilex wouldn’t ever get too–too– 

Kon’s pretty fucking positive that Dubbilex doesn’t really think of him the way he’s sometimes wished the guy would either. And Roxy–Roxy’s the closest thing he’s ever had to a sibling unless he counts Match, who literally thinks he’s just a shitty prototype and nothing else, but she wasn’t–she wasn’t his pack sibling or anything like that. And even if she had been, he doesn’t even know where she is now; hasn’t even seen her in months. More months than he even actually remembers it being, since he spent a real significant portion of that time, like–literally out of his mind on gross fucked-up amnesia drugs that made him literally feral, so . . . 

And it’s not like it’s not, like–public, that he’s back and currently working for Cadmus and rolling with Young Justice and all that. If Roxy or Tana or anybody wanted to find him . . . they could find him, if they wanted to. 

But they haven’t. 

He misses Hawaii so bad right now. Like . . . all the time, really. But especially right now. 

“Then I will do it,” Red Tornado says. It sounds the same exact way he just said it, like he’s just replaying a recording or something. Like he saved a copy of it the first time, because he was already planning to say it again. 

Kon is definitely gonna be mortified about this later, he thinks as he scrubs the sleeve of his jacket across his wet eyes. 

“Okay,” he manages. “Uh–okay. Uh. Thanks.” 

He–he could use more stuff to nest with, definitely, and if Red Tornado brings it he won’t have to leave his nest for it, and like . . . the food and drinks or whatever wouldn’t hurt either, obviously. He didn’t think to get anything like that ready while he was distracted looking for stuff with everybody’s scents to nest with and when the Super-Cycle offered him a nesting pit to just–when the Super-Cycle made him a nesting pit in itself to use–well, like. Then he hadn’t really cared, after that. Like . . . that had not been a thing he was worried about, after that. So . . . so if Red Tornado doesn’t mind getting him some of that stuff before he goes . . . wherever he goes to, like, hang out when he’s on his own, well . . . like, that’d be . . . that’d be . . . 

Nice, Kon admits to himself, though that’s embarrassing to think even when he’s already all overemotional and weird anyway. 

But–but it would be. Nobody’s . . . nobody’s gonna come “attend” him, or even just . . . just be here with him, so . . . so it’d be nice, if Red Tornado would . . . would get him a couple things, and he could . . . could pretend like . . . like somebody–like he’d had somebody who– 

Red Tornado he guesses does count as somebody who’d, like, “attend” him a little, but like . . . not like a packmate would. Like . . . in a pack, somebody does . . . “attend” people who’re presenting in it. Somebody–stays, at least. 

Kon guesses the Super-Cycle’s technically volunteered to do that, so like . . . so that’s already better than he thought he was gonna get. And he did find everybody’s scents–or at least, almos everybody’s scents and Robin’s blockers–so if Red Tornado gets him more stuff to nest with too . . . 

That’s–definitely better than he thought he was gonna get, yeah. 

“Is there anyone I will need to make sure the security measure will allow entry to the base?” Red Tornado asks, and Kon–startles, a little. 

“Uh–what?” he asks stupidly, not understanding what he means. What’s . . . ? 

Red Tornado tilts his head, very slightly. 

“To attend to you,” he says. “Did you invite anyone without prior security clearance, or are they a member of the team?” 

“I–they’ve got packs,” Kon says reflexively, too confused to bite it back. But . . . “Like . . . they’ve all got–packs. And, like–school and shit, anyway. I wouldn’t . . . I wouldn’t bug ‘em with this.” 

He doesn’t even know if . . . like, why even would they come, if he actually . . . 

Red Tornado’s expression doesn’t change, obviously. Like, his expression is literally physically incapable of changing. He doesn’t even adjust the tilt of his head or shift his center of balance or–anything at all, really. Doesn’t even make that electric humming fridge-compressor sound again. 

Kon suddenly feels like something about him just changed, though. 

“I see,” Red Tornado says. “Who will I need to provide security clearance for, then?” 

“Um,” Kon says, and tries not to cringe. “You–don’t. It’s–fine. Like, I don’t–it’s fine. I didn’t, like . . . call anybody, or anything. I’m just gonna, you know–crash for a day or two, and then like, I’ll put everything away and run the scent-scrubbers and everything. That’s, like–that’s all. I don’t need, like . . . ‘attended’, or whatever. Like–I’m not gonna bother anybody with that.” 

Red Tornado’s just looking at him with the exact same expression, but it still feels like something’s changed.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Cater Diamond - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Courtyard]

Cater: Whew～ Today's Alchemy class was a real brain wiggler. What class do I got next… Hm?

Cater: Hey… Is that you Leona-kun? Woah, that's a surprise, are you just getting out of class too?

Leona: Shut your trap already… It's got nothing to do with you, Cater.

Cater: No, no, I just wanted to give you the drop on a bit of info. Do you know what tomorrow is?

Cater: You see, it's YA BOI CAY-KUN'S BIRTHDAY ♪

Leona: Oh. Good for you.

Cater: NO REACTION!? I mean, I guess I knew that was coming～

Cater: Shoulda known it wouldn't be easy to get a warm birthday greeting from ol' Leona-kun.

Leona: What nonsense are you spouting? I just did.

Cater: What, you mean when you said "good for you"? C'mon, you just threw that out there 'cause you had to～

Cater: If you're gonna say something, you gotta put more heart into it, not just toss me a few words here and there ♪

Leona: Your birthday's tomorrow, ain't it? I couldn't possibly be rude and wish you a happy birthday the day before all your fellow housemates have a chance to…

Leona: So, bye.

[Leona leaves]

Cater: There he goes again, spouting off whatever… Well, guess I should just consider myself lucky that we got to hold a convo and he didn't just ignore me.

Cater: Alrighty, then. Looks like my next class is Animal Linguistics. I got a feeling I'm gonna get called on today, so I should prep for it.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Hallway]

Cater: Woah, it's that delicious!? I wanna go right away… Oh, but I don't think I'll be able to until after next month.

Cater: Yeaaah, I did terrible on the last Magical History exam～ …Saaame, I wish those tests weren't basically one bit puzzle.

Cater: And also… Oh, we're already back to our rooms. Okay, night～

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

Cater: …Whew, finally I'm back.

Cater: I wasn't able to check Magicam while I was in the shower, so I should do that now.

Cater: Oh, looks like some of my old posts are getting likes too. I'm glad people are still seeing what I posted ages ago.

Cater: There's a few comments, too… Ugh, this question is waaay too long.

Cater: Not to mention, half of what they're saying has nothing to do with their question, they're just gabbing on about themselves. Ugggh… It's gonna be a pain to respond…

Cater: But if I leave it for later, I'll want to reply even less～ Guess I should give 'em a response ASAP then.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

Cater: "Except, that eye mask was a limited-time item, so if it's already sold out, sorry." …And, send. Was that all of them?

Cater: Whew～ I finally finished responding to everything. Guess now I can go check out everyone else's posts.

[phone pings]

Cater: Huh, who's post is this on trending right… Hey, it's that one guy! I can't believe they got a cat.

Cater: "Your cat looks so soft and suuuuper cute～! Can't wait for more pictures!"

[phone pings]

Cater: Ooh, I like the picture of this guitar. I wanna try customizing like this, too.

Cater: "I can't believe you did all this yourself! I'd love to see the play-by-play of how you made it next time."

[phone pings]

Cater: What else is there…? Oh, hey, I've heard of this Magicammer before. Looks like their video giving a tour of their room is hot right now.

Cater: Woah, that's hella cute! Both the floor and wallpaper are done up so meticulously. The entire room's been designed to mesh well with everything～!

Cater: The little trinkets they have scattered around their room are also all the rage right now, so they might be a good reference to keep in mind. I'll give them a follow.

Cater: Maaan, I wish I had a cute, pastel room like this. I bet they get tons of likes.

Cater: Oh, yeah. I kinda left it 'cause I didn't really have anything to say, but… Guess I could write a suggestion here.

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Cater: It's been more or less smooth-sailing ever since I got a single room, so I didn't think I'd really have any complaints…

Cater: But this place is a bit too chic for the kinds of photos I want to post on Magicam. Maybe it's more accurate to say it's cute in an old-fashioned way?

Cater: The colors in the room are more on the darker side, which makes the videos come out too dark…

Cater: And it's a pain always having to lug out my photography equipment each time. I'll just write "I want more attractive walls and floors."

Cater: Honestly, I'd love to be able to do a room tour or a day-in-the-life routine video...

Cater: But I bet there'd be a ton of trouble I could get into when it comes to everyone's privacy if I'm shooting in and around the dorm, so that'd probably be impossible while I'm still attending school.

Cater: Mmkay, then… I'm already ready for bed, so I guess I'll just go to sleep early, ready to tackle the day tomorrow.

[fwumps into bed]

Cater: What time should I set my alarm for…? Oh, there's already a reply on my comment from earlier.

Cater: I should probably respond right away since they were also quick with it, huh… Hmm…

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

[alarm rings]

Cater: Mmm… Mrrrnngh… Is it morning already…?

Cater: Yawn… What time did I even fall asleep last night?

Cater: I think I was replying to a comment I got wishing me a happy birthday right at midnight… Did I fall asleep in the middle of that?

Cater: Looks like a got a lot more comments after that, too. I need to respond… But before that, there's something else I need to do today.

Cater: Can't just laze about here! I need to go to the washroom and wash my face ASAP!

Cater: My face is washed, and I did my skin care routine… So, let's get started!

Cater: The photography lights are turned on, the reflector board is adjusted, and my phone is on the tripod…

Cater: The plushes in the background are… Good, they're settled nicely on the bed.

Cater: There's nothing in the shot that shouldn't be. Perf, time to start the video!

[phone pings]

Cater: Hey-o everyone, it's Cay-kun! Today, I'm going to show off some base makeup items that's been my go-to these days.

Cater: First up… Here's the UV primer that just came out on the first of this month! I know this has been all the rage lately.

Cater: I've been using this every day since I bought it the day it came out ♪

Cater: And you know what's the best thing about this primer…? It's got no reflective shine at all!

Cater: It's got a nice toning effect, and I think it works well with just a little bit of powder on days when you don't really need to spruce yourself up too much.

Cater: I've fallen in love with it, 'cause whenever I wanna take a pic on the fly, all I have to do is dab a little here and there with a tissue and it looks like I did myself up in proper makeup ♪

Cater: Aaand it rolls on so smoothly, too. I'll apply some now to show you what I mean, so keep your eyes on the screen!

[phone pings]

Cater: …Nice, video done.

Cater: I'll snap a few pictures in the afternoon during break and put together a comparison picture, then edit the video… I guess I'll be able to upload it the day after tomorrow.

Cater: I still have to think about some other stuff like the background music, but I should focus on finishing my makeup for now.

Cater: It's my birthday, so I think I'm leaning towards using some of my more cuter cosmetics… Oh, I know.

Cater: I found it! Here's the glitter eyeliner that I got as a part of that limited-edition holiday cosmetic set!

Cater: Both the package it came in and the glitter itself is waaaaay too cute. I'll draw the line with this, and snap a pic to see…

[snap!]

Cater: Nice, I can see the glitter glimmering around my eye. This'll give my birthday photos a little bit of a different feel from usual.

Cater: As for my hair… Eh, I guess it's going a little too far if I did something with that too. I'll just massage in a little bit of wax and just set it like usual…

Cater: Perf, looks good. Hmmm… I still have a bit of time, so I guess I'll reply to all the birthday comments I got earlier.

Cater: I still need to record a birthday video, and I bet there'll be a party, or at least a get-together with the Pop Music Club...

Cater: Eheheh, I can't wait. I think I'll have enough content to upload to Magicam for a while!

[Main Street]

[Cater chats with everyone]

Cater: Yaay, thanks everyone! …Hm?

Cater: Who's that I spy walking over there…? Oh, hey, it's Leona-kun!

Leona: Cater…! Tch, what'd I do to be this unlucky?

Cater: Ehhh, you really gonna act like that in front of the birthday boooy?

Cater: So, anywaaaay… Remember how you said yesterday that you couldn't possibly be rude and wish me well the day before my birthday?

Cater: Which meeeeeans… Since we've met the day oooooof…

Leona: Yeah, yeah, you don't gotta tell me twice. …......Happy birthday.

Cater: Ahahah, I really got you of all people to wish me a happy birthday! This is gonna be a great year!

Requested by @farfalla049.

[potato-lord-but-not]

Followed you a long time ago for just how cool your art looks, finally decided to look into the podcast characters you like to draw! I just saw one ask asking if the character Oscar is POC, and I wonder are characters in those podcasts usually unclear in ethnicity, and the fandom can freely headcanon? Like I know if info is clearly very mentioned in the original work or there is official concept art then it would be easy, but I'm really scared if I headcanoned something that is completely different from implied canon info I didn't pick up/ info that showed up in an obscure interview. Do you have any advice in navigating information in podcast fandoms?

Usually with podcasts, you can go off of official art and or descriptions from the podcast. In the case of malevolent, hardly any characters, aside from the eldritch monsters that John likes to describe in detail, have a solid description of their looks. that’s why you get so many different variations of Noel and Oscar. Ofc there are context clues that can help you inform your design choices (or just context. like Oscar’s Scottish accent and the Butcher’s Irish accent. he may even have been described as being Irish but idk that’s besides the point, you can tell).

But even then you can play with it, like how I made Oscar mixed Scottish and Jamaican. And honestly! sometimes you can ignore it! like with Gordon from red valley, who I already had a design I liked before he was described as being pale and even implied to look white. but like I said ! you can have fun with it !

I also sometimes check voice actors, because in some instances you can’t tell someone’s ethnicity from their voice alone, and I’d hate to misinterpret their character because I couldn’t pick up on that. that’s more so a concern when the voice actor is POC tho. With malevolent tho it’s all done by Harlan, who is white, so I think headcanoning characters as different ethnicities is more important, and also way more fun.

Oh also! fandom wikis are a good place to double check. cus they’d definitely have something like that you may have missed- like something from an interview or the character’s full name, which can sometimes indicate their ethnicity ( like Parker Yang from malevolent, only shows up as a corpse in the show but important enough to Arthur that he’s still a fan favorite to make content about)

ghugh I’m rambling- I’d say the majority of the time you’re free to do whatever, just be open to change your design if descriptions come up later on (I’d say more importantly if they’re described to be POC, cus like with Gordon I think my design for him with more Afro centric features looks way cooler and feels more like him than anything I could come up with that would be more canon compliant). Also you can go off common fanon designs, but those are just mutually agreed upon and it’s not wrong to go against that. Like with the Magnus Archives there are no official designs and they let the people make whatever designs they please.

OKAY IG TLDR- do what you want, keep your ears open for character descriptions when listening, double check with character wikis or their voice actors, don’t be afraid to make more POC characters even of the cast is played by mostly white people because the more diverse cast the more fun and interesting your art will be.

[slttygeto]

♡ ̆̈ loml ; loss of my life — Hanma Shuji

♡ ̆̈ content warning: heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, i honestly don't want to say more. discover for yourself.

♡ ̆̈ word count: 2.3k

♡ ̆̈ inspiration songs: loml by taylor swift, ghostin by ariana grande.

Was it normal to feel like a burden at all times? A second choice to someone whom you hold very dearly to your heart? 

It wasn't that you didn't know your worth, it was the fact that you didn't feel like a priority anymore. But people change, and life happens and major events are bound to change the way someone behaves. 

But it hurts really badly.

You're not too sure when you started to notice it --- the distance, the quiet hums in lieu of an enthusiastic nod accompanied with a loud laugh, a cold hand to your shoulder that never lingered anymore. You could lie to yourself and say that Hanma wasn't a tactile person, that his love language was anything but physical touch but you would be worsening the pain you were experiencing from his shift in behavior. 

And it wasn't like he said anything to you---no, you would prefer if he did. It was his silence that felt like a heavy weight on your chest, pulling you down to the deepest and darkest parts of an ocean you knew you would drown in. You fight  back tears as you stand in the quiet bathroom, the sound of your breathing echoing in the large space your husband had once designed specifically for you. The excitement shining on his face when you had mentioned moving in together as boyfriend and girlfriend felt like a breath of fresh air, and a shy giggle escaped your lips as he scooped you into his arms and whispered in your ear about how living with you might just be the highlight of his life.

Yet here you were, grasping the wedding ring delicately wrapped around your finger while you choke back sobs at how mean your husband has been lately.

"I'm going in the shower," you announce to the man from the door, peeking your head around the corner to see him approaching the bathroom.

"Good." He gives a curt nod but his eyes never meet yours---they're too busy focused on that damn phone, that same device that had been driving you crazy. 

He claimed that he was always busy, shrugging his shoulders at your questioning look when you pointed out the twelve missed calls he claims he hadn't seen. But you know him---probably better than he does, and you are certain that he had been blatantly ignoring you. 

Your heart shatters quietly in your chest, but you hold back tears as you choke out the next sentence. "Not gonna join me?"

Like you always do?

"Nah, I'm good." He pushes past you to wash his hands, tucking his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants before retreating out of the bathroom the moment you started to undress. 

Was it normal for married couples to go through a phase like this? 

Even if you wanted to get answers, nothing about your relationship with the criminal was normal---not the way the two of you met, or how quick you decided to move towards marriage. You couldn't explain your situation to anyone, not even your closest friends in Toman. Not only would it piss off Hanma that you were going around and whining about relationship problems to others instead of him, but you felt too pathetic to utter the words out loud.

I think my husband fell out of love with me. 

That night, like many others, Hanma sleeps with his back facing you. And like every time, you turn to face him in hopes that he could feel your eyes staring at the back of his head. 

You don't dare to touch him, but it had been a habit for your hands to be all over him---caressing his stomach, whining about the tough muscle in his arms, melting against the warmth of his neck and chest---it was yanked out of your grasp so abruptly, heartlessly, leaving you stranded in a place you thought would be your forever after with the tall criminal. 

But old habits die hard, it is the only explanation for what you do next, letting your fingers grasp the hem of his shirt. It feels warm on his body, and the material is a little worn out but you know Shuji doesn't mind. You squeeze the fabric in your hand, your bottom lip wobbling as you start to sniffle.

"I'm sorry," you choke out quietly, praying it doesn't wake him up. "For whatever I did, I'm sorry. Please. I don't like how you're so cold to me." Your stuttered breaths force you to sit up in bed, slowly slipping out of the bed so you could cry on the balcony without waking up your husband. 

It takes you a couple of minutes to calm down, the cold of the night numbing your skin and therefore your heart. You hug your knees to your chest on the patio chair, wiping the remnants of your tears with the paw of your sweater. 

A loud knock makes you jolt, you whip your head to the glass door where you find a grumpy Hanma with a confused look on his face. "What are you doing?" He mouths from behind the door and you shake your head as you gather yourself. You slide the door open, keeping your gaze down as your feet drag you towards the bed. "Couldn't sleep."

"Ah," is all he gives as a reply, his back facing you. You notice that he stands there for a while, unmoving and staring at the spot where you had been sitting. It takes him a couple more seconds to move, walking to the bathroom to do his business. 

Ironically, that had been the longest he had acknowledged your presence in weeks. But your heart takes it and makes a blanket of it, shielding itself from the storm you had been enduring for so long. Soon enough, your eyelids start to feel heavy and sleep washes over your senses shortly after. 

--

You've only seen Hanma wear a special suit once. 

Despite the fact that his job was rather messy, it required him to look presentable at all times. However, he gagged at the idea of wearing that kind of attire to his wedding. It was insane even for a man like Hanma. 

"This feels like a shotgun wedding," Kisaki mutters to the tall man who grins at his reflection in the mirror. "I never thought you'd be the type to have a small wedding."

"You mean, you never thought I was the type to get married."

Kisaki makes a face at the thought, realizing that his right hand was indeed about to settle down. And with a girl he fell in love with during his reckless teenage years. "That too."

Hanma straightens up after fixing his tie, hair brush fixing a few strands before turning to look at his boss. "So, how do I look?" 

"Presentable for once. Now let's go."

And true to Kisaki's words, the wedding was indeed small. A short, intimate ceremony with a couple of people who had been present in your and Hanma's lives up until this point---the venue wasn't that large, but it was impressive enough for you to feel nervous as you walk down the aisle, grasping your older brother's arm.

"Out of everyone," Ran mutters under his breath and you roll your eyes, nails digging in his forearm. "You chose him."

"Shut up." You say through gritted teeth, but it was nothing serious. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see that Ran's eyes were glossy and he refused to look at your face. His body was stiff, and his chest was puffed out as he swallowed thickly. Those were all tell-tales that he was on the verge of breaking into tears, and it makes your heart swell. 

That night, Hanma kissed you deeply in front of everyone. He held you in his arms like a fragile being, beaming at the wedding ring adorning your finger before bringing his lips to your knuckles. You teased him about how good he looked in the suit, and he replied, 

"I can't wait for you to take it off of me."

"Maybe I won't," your fingers wrap around the end of the tie, grinning at him. "You look pretty handsome in it."

"Oh, so the suit stays on?"

"Mhm," you shift on his lap, wrapping both arms around his neck as you whisper in his ear. "And we can use the tie for something else."

After that night, he took the suit to the washers and hid it deep in his closet once he retrieved it. 

Then life was great for a while after that---three years of bliss in a marriage you never expected to happen given the long separation the two of you had endured. You wished you had appreciated the small moments better, but you knew they were tucked in a memory box in the back of your head. It was only a matter of when you could retrieve it. 

So why was he wearing that special suit again? And why did he look so...peaceful? 

He had been excited on your wedding night, he was full of life as he dragged you to the dance floor so you two could warm up. But was it all a show? A façcade to convince people that marrying you was what he wanted, especially after chasing you for many years, a web of lies you found yourself tangled in because he couldn't be honest with you? 

That suit was supposed to be special, it represented the day he swore loyalty to you and you did the same---it felt disrespectful that he would dare wear it again, with rosy cheeks and hair combed in a way he would never choose for himself. 

And he was supposed to be standing tall, smirking proudly at the fact that he easily towers over everyone. He would then shake his hands once then twice, feigning confidence as he fixed his posture. 

Not so relaxed and moving.

Then, he would run a hand through his hair like he hadn't spent minutes fixing it with his comb.

Instead, he doesn't attempt to touch it, and you figure it's because he hates the gel that's keeping it down. 

His grin would look boy-ish, but along with his chiseled jaw, he would look the right amount of manly. Just about enough for the woman standing at the end of the aisle to be swooned. 

Yet the smile adorning his lips was doing anything but---and you push yourself, forcing your body to approach him as you try to make sense of the situation. 

"Someone did your hair," your voice shatters the stillness in the room, and you choose to ignore the other people standing there watching you. Hanma doesn't say anything in return, and you shake your head as though he had given a reply. "No, no it looks---it looks good. Just not something I've seen before."

Hanma remains silent, unmoving, and you brace yourself to keep the conversation going. "Your cheeks---I've only seen them this red when you're sick--are you sure you're not?" 

And when nothing comes, you shake your head. "I just wanted to know."

But the longer the silence stretched, the thinner your patience was running. Your hand grips the wooden box for support, and your chest puffs out as you hold in sobs. "That suit was fucking special, Shuji." And you had promised yourself, him, that you would never cry if it came to this---but the reality was harsher than expected. "That fucking suit--was the one you wore on our wedding! How fucking dare you wear it again!"

"Hey," Chifuyu's hand rests on your shoulder, but you swat him away.

"You can't---you can't be serious, you can't just lay here and say nothing!" You point to the people behind you, Toman executives you had both known while growing up. "You're going to let them see you like this?! You're gonna let them watch you sleep?!"

And you wait for it---for his loud retort, a dry chuckle, a low voice calling for your name and telling you to cut it out. But it never comes, and all you're met with is his innocent, peaceful smile.

"You can't fall asleep here---you can't do that Shuji," your hands scramble to grasp for the white material wrapped around the lower part of his body, but you pull it up higher, as though afraid that he might get colder. "It's not like you---" 

Tears finally start to spill like a faucet, you use the hem of your blazer to wipe them down as your other hand keeps tucking him in. "You can't leave me like this."

"You did this to me, Shuji." Your sobs are gut wrenching as you lean over the casket, your tears wetting the material of his suit. "You gave me everything---you can't take it away." 

Your brother approaches you from behind, hands resting on your shoulders as he attempts to pull you away. "It's time."

"I'll never forgive you. Ever. You fucking coward!" Your fist collides with the casket, and you lean closer to his face. "You could've told me! We could've run away--you could've...you could've been saved, Shuji. I would've done anything to save you." 

But as you watch them approach the casket to finally close it, you realize that the last thing Hanma would ever hear was that you'd never forgive him. You push yourself out of Ran's grasp, and no one tries to push you away as you lean down and press a kiss to his cold, chapped lips. 

He doesn't pull you in, nor does he try to kiss you back and your lips tremble as your thumb traces his cheek. 

"I love you. Even if you don't say it back, I love you so much." 

Then your lips meet his for the last time.

[sherrylephotography]

A letter from Bernie Sanders. Bernie Sanders is a senator in Vermont USA.

I’m getting a lot of calls from people who are not only upset about what’s happening, but are wondering how we best go forward.

My response: We must be smart. We must be organized. And we must fight back - effectively. This is not a time for wallowing in despair and hiding under the covers. The stakes are too high. We’re not just fighting for ourselves. We’re fighting for our kids and for future generations. We’re fighting for the future of this planet.

Further, we must not become overwhelmed and think that Trump has some kind of extraordinary mandate and an inevitable glide path into the future. That’s what the right-wing mouthpieces want you to believe, but it’s not true. Trump won the election because Kamala Harris and a very weak and out-of-touch Democratic Party received 5 million votes LESS than Biden did in 2020, not because Donald Trump or his agenda were popular. His agenda can be defeated.

So, where do we go from here?

First, we’ve got to understand what, in fact, is happening around us right now.

Second, we need a short-term strategy. What do we do tomorrow and the day after that?

Third, we need a long-term strategy. How do we build a grassroots movement that gains political power?

In terms of what is happening right now under Trump I see three key elements. President Abraham Lincoln, at Gettysburg, talked about a government “of the people, by the people, for the people.” Under Trump we are seeing a rapid move toward oligarchy in our country — a government of the billionaire class, by the billionaire class, for the billionaire class. And it’s not being done secretly. It’s right out there for all to see. Two weeks ago, Donald Trump was inaugurated for his second term as President of the United States. Standing right behind him were the three richest men in the country – Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos and Mark Zuckerberg — men who have become $242 billion richer since Trump was elected, and who are now worth a combined $932 billion. This is more money than the bottom half of America — 170 million people.

Not surprisingly, Musk, now a key part of the administration, spent over $277 million to get Trump elected. Bezos and Zuckerberg both kicked a million each into Trump’s inauguration fund. Bezos, who owns the Washington Post, rescinded the Post’s editorial board’s endorsement of Kamala Harris. Zuckerberg had his Meta corporation settle a lawsuit with Trump for $25 million. These three multibillionaires are working with Trump because they understand one very important reality. Trump‘s policies are designed to make the very richest people in this country even richer.

But it’s not just oligarchy that we should worry about. This country, under Trump, is moving rapidly toward authoritarianism. The rule of law and our Constitution are being undermined.

Just a few examples: in violation of the Constitution and federal law, Trump attempted last week to suspend all federal grants and loans. That means he blocked funding for Medicaid, Head Start, community health centers, homeless veterans programs, etc., etc. Tens of millions of Americans, including some of the most vulnerable people in our country, were impacted by that decision. Fortunately, Americans all across the country stood up in outrage and said NO. And with the help of the courts much, but not all, of that freeze in funding was rescinded.

Trump is intimidating the media with lawsuits against ABC, CBS, Meta and the Des Moines Register. His FCC is threatening to investigate PBS and NPR. If Trump does not like what the media does, he goes after them — undermining the First Amendment, dissent and freedom of speech.

Trump pardoned the January 6th insurrections who injured 174 police officers at the Capitol. Now, he is investigating the FBI agents who helped bring these violent criminals to justice. His goal: condone violence and turn the FBI into a national right-wing police agency.

That is a very broad overview of where we are today.

In terms of a short-term strategy, we have got to mobilize as strongly as we can against Trump’s dangerous proposals.

And let me just say this: Yes, the Republicans control the House and the Senate, but don’t forget, their majorities are small. In the House, a body of 435 members, they currently have a three-vote majority. That is a razor-thin margin and their legislation can be defeated or modified — if we fight back.

There are a number of Republicans who won by small margins. And, let me tell you, these guys do respond to phone calls and emails. So, if there is a piece of legislation you disagree with, get on the phone and call the Capitol switchboard at 202-224-2131.

And what is some of the legislation that we should be concerned about?

Republicans right now are working on a budget reconciliation bill which would provide massive tax breaks for the wealthy. This gift to the rich would be paid for by large cuts in Medicaid and other programs that working families and low-income people desperately need. At a time of unprecedented income and wealth inequality, when so many of our people are struggling to put food on the table, we must not savage programs for working families to provide huge tax breaks for billionaires.

We must vigorously oppose Trump’s efforts at mass deportation. YES, we must strengthen our borders. YES, we should deport people who have been convicted of serious crimes. But NO, we cannot destroy families who have lived and worked in this country peacefully for decades. Not only is Trump’s mass deportation program immoral, it will have a severely negative impact on our economy.

We are seeing extreme weather and devastation in our country and all over the world related to climate change. Think about Los Angeles. Think about North Carolina. We must vigorously oppose the absurd “drill baby drill” doctrine, which will only make an incredibly dangerous climate situation worse.

And those are just a very few of the issues that are coming down the pike.

But we cannot just play defense. We have got to be on offense. Please, never forget, the agenda that we are fighting for is widely supported by working families all across this country. And we must continue to fight for that agenda.

The American people do not want cuts to Medicaid and the privatization of Medicare. They understand that health care is a human right, not a privilege. We must continue the fight for Medicare for All so that every American has the health care that they need. That’s not a radical idea. That’s what Americans want.

The federal minimum wage of $7.25 an hour is a starvation wage. We must raise that minimum wage to a living wage, at least $17 an hour. If you work 40 hours a week, you should not be living in poverty.

All over this country, we have a major housing crisis. And it’s not just the 800,000 who are homeless. It is millions of working families who are spending 40, 50 or 60 percent of their limited incomes on housing. Instead of spending almost a trillion dollars a year on a wasteful and bloated Pentagon budget, we have got to build millions of units of low-income and affordable housing. And when we do that, we put large numbers of people to work at good-paying union jobs.

I could go on and on, but let me conclude by saying this. The United States is the wealthiest nation in the history of the world. If we stand together and oppose right-wing efforts to divide us up by our race, our religion, our sexual orientation or where we were born—if we stand together, there is nothing that we cannot accomplish. Yes. We can provide a decent standard of living for every man, woman and child. Yes. We can lead the world in combatting climate change. Yes. We can end all forms of bigotry.

Yes. We can create a government and an economy that works for all, not just the few.

Let’s go forward together.

In solidarity,

Bernie

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

Starting ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

It's been years since you have released a song or even made a public appearance, many people thought you might have been suffering from some issues, well not issue it was more of a feverish dream for you because you got the most perfect man you could have ever dreamt off , he was the perfect ideal man , the man that girls would be on knees for , has fallen head over heels for you.

6 years ago

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

He was the CEO of Gucci, not like you had fallen for him because of his money, because you yourself were a billionaire. You made your fortune from advertisements, concerts, acting, and of course, your actual profession: singing. You were a famous singer with 14 million followers on X, and you had seen your fair share of people try to use your fame for their own gain.

But there he was, the CEO of one of the most prestigious fashion houses in the world. And when he spoke, he was nothing like you expected.

"Hey," he awkwardly spoke, looking like he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

You were taken aback. The CEO of Gucci, the man everyone revered, and here he was, a bit shy? You raised an eyebrow, not quite sure if you should feel flattered or confused.

"Hi, I'm so glad to see you. You wanted me to sponsor your new design?" You cut straight to the point, your voice firm and confident.

He gave you a half-smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He gestured toward the other side of the table, inviting you to sit. As you did, you could feel his gaze on you intent, searching, almost like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.

You clenched your fist under the table. If he said anything stupid, anything that even remotely resembled a hidden agenda, you were going to punch him out of pure instinct. But instead of asking for something ridiculous, he just looked at you with a quiet sincerity.

You raised an eyebrow, not sure if you should be relieved or on edge. "You can talk," you said, trying to break the silence that was starting to make you uncomfortable.

He shifted in his seat, looking almost embarrassed. "I just wanted to say... you’re very direct. I respect that."

You gave him a look, not really sure where this was going. You weren’t here for small talk; you had enough of that in the industry. And you weren’t about to let him charm you with pleasantries.

"I’m not here for games, I’m here for business," you replied, your voice steady, but a little less harsh than it had been before.

He nodded, then slid the design toward you. "This is our new collection," he explained, his voice calmer now, more measured. "I believe it’s something you’d want to wear, and I’d love for you to sponsor it."

You glanced down at the design, your breath catching in your throat. The clothing was breathtaking sleek, elegant, and everything you’d ever dreamed of in a piece of fashion. It was beautiful, in a way that made you almost forget you were sitting across from the CEO of Gucci.

You couldn't stop imagining yourself wearing it, how it would outshine everything else, how you’d look in it when you walked into a room. The idea of wearing something so exquisite made your heart skip a beat.

For a moment, you forgot about all the times people had tried to take advantage of you, the sponsors who had only wanted you for your face, your name, your influence. This was different. You could feel it.

You looked up at him, your voice quieter now, a little unsure. "This design... it’s amazing."

His gaze softened slightly as he met your eyes. "I’m glad you think so. I believe it’s the perfect representation of your style."

You couldn’t tell if it was his honesty or the way he spoke that made you feel a little warmer, a little more vulnerable. You weren’t used to this men who didn’t treat you like a stepping stone to their own success. He wasn’t pushing. He wasn’t trying to manipulate the situation.

For the first time, you felt like you could actually trust someone in this business. Not that you’d let your guard down completely, but he was... different.

You cleared your throat, the tension in your chest easing just a little. "You’ve got yourself a deal."

He gave you another small smile, this one more genuine than the last, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

And that’s how your story with him went. You sponsored his designs, and they were a massive hit. The more you worked together, the more your worlds collided projects, meetings, late-night brainstorming sessions. What started as business slowly turned into something else.

You hadn’t even noticed it at first, but you were falling for him. It wasn’t his wealth, his position, or the fame he made you feel heard, valued. He wasn’t just the CEO of Gucci, he was someone who genuinely understood you in ways others didn’t.

Before you knew it, you were no longer thinking about the next deal. You were thinking about him. And just like that, you realized somewhere along the way, you had let yourself fall for him.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

One random night at your house, yes, your house. You and Ken had gotten close enough for it to feel natural hanging out at each other’s places, exchanging stories, your worlds blending into something you never expected. He was always the stoic, reserved man, and tonight, something felt different about him.

When it was finally time to leave, you flashed him your usual cheerful smile. "Bye, Ken. I’ll see you tomorrow."

"Uh, alright. I’ll see you tomorrow..." he said, but as he opened the door, he paused. For a moment, he stood there, staring ahead before locking the door again, his hand still on the handle.

"I think I should call off for this day," he muttered.

"Call off?" You blinked, confused. That was strange. He was always so focused, so dedicated. He never took time off from work. "Are you kidding, Ken? You never call in. Is that what you believe is happening here?"

You teased him, but he just bit his lip nervously. For a few seconds, there was nothing but silence. You could see him wrestling with something in his head, something heavy.

Then, he looked at you, his gaze intense. "I’m in love with you."

You froze. "WHAT?"

"I worshipped you," he continued, his voice shaky but raw. "I grew jealous of anyone you spoke to. I wanted to have you all to myself. I was only happy when I was with you. Even when you were away from me, you were still present in my work. If I never told you this, you would’ve never understood. Hell, I hardly understood it myself... But I knew. And I knew then I have seen perfection face to face."

...

And that's how it was..

You took a hiatus and spent 6 years with him in peace but lately...

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Your fans were going absolutely bizarre. No updates, no news,it was driving them insane. Rumors started swirling, some even claiming you were dying from cancer, which, pfttt, was totally fake. But honestly? You couldn’t care less. You were just too damn happy to notice.

You were living in your own little world, all wrapped up in your boyfiee, Ken. No need for social media drama, no pressure to keep up with anyone else. It was just you and him, lost in your bubble of laughter, late-night talks, and all the little moments that made everything feel right.

People could speculate all they wanted, but you? You were in your happy place, and nothing outside of that mattered.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Six years later, everything seemed perfect. You and Ken were still going strong, your relationship thriving like it always had. But lately, something was off. Nanami wasn’t acting like himself.

He wasn’t as excited to see you anymore, not with the usual spark. It was as if he knew you’d been waiting. Waiting for him. You could feel it in the way he’d look at you sometimes distant, like his mind was somewhere else.

He was overworking again, and it wasn’t just the usual hustle. This time, it was different. It was frequent, and you could see the toll it was taking on him.

But despite all that, there was one thing that made you pauset he ring. The diamond ring. You noticed it on his desk one evening, tucked away in a small box, and for a brief moment, you almost forgot everything. It was for you. Only you.

You couldn’t help but feel bored, too bored, to be honest. Everything had been so perfect, but now there was an unsettling calmness in the air. So, you logged into your account, needing a distraction. Instantly, thousands of DMs flooded in, along with rumors and speculations about your life. Your fans were starting to question everything where had you been? What was really happening?

It was time to make things right. After all, they were still your fans. They deserved the truth, or at least, a little peace of mind. So, with a deep breath, you began typing. It was time to clear the air, time to remind them why they had supported you all these years.

You owed it to them. And to yourself.

Then you sighed and went back to do some chores , after a few minutes you saw retweets and dms , your wivies I mean your.. friends were shocked by this news too

After you saw the retweets, the messages flooding in, and the happiness of your fans who finally felt like they had answers for your sudden disappearance, you felt a wave of satisfaction. You had cleared the air, given them something to hold onto. It felt good to know they understood, to know they were still there for you.

But... there were still two people left to explain yourself to.

Shoko. Yep, she was a singer too, but she had only debuted a few songs,three or four, to be exact. She wasn’t as popular as you, but she had her own following with around a million fans. Her music? Damn good. Some might call her underrated, but honestly, you thought of her as uthaime,a hidden gem in the music world.

You two were inseparable as kids, more like two peas in a pod. You’d been through everything together, always there for each other. And who knows? There might’ve been a kiss or two in the past. Couldn’t blame her, couldn’t blame yourself either, you guys were hot.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

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[flightfoot]

About Lila's lies, perhaps i'm the only one that thinks this but i feel a lot of her lies aren't as bad as a lot of people claim. Like a majority of the class (especially Marinette) have a few outlandish achievements or facts that sound like massive lies themselves, so it makes sense that they wouldn't doubt Lila when she claimed the same.

Oh, AGREED. Here's a list of her bragging-type and I-need-help-type lies.

Lila: You know I actually happen to be very close friends with Ladybug.

I mean, it's not absurd that she might be Ladybug's friend. "Close friends" might be up for interpretation, but this really isn't crazy. Especially since it's actually true for Alya.

Rose: Can you believe Lila knows Prince Ali? She even flew in his private jet with him!

Rose knows Prince Ali. I don't know why she's even impressed by this. I wouldn't even find it weird if she flew with him on his private jet.

Chloé: Why did Jagged Stone write a song about Lila when he could've written it about me?

I mean he wrote a song about Marinette unknowingly, he even wrote a song rubbing it in Anarka's face that he was ditching her and the twins. I don't actually think it'd be that weird for him to write a song about Lila, if she impressed him.

Nino: Lila knows all of the Hollywood directors. She promised she'd mention me to Steven Basielberg himself!

Lila's story is that her mom's a diplomat, and that DOES appear to be the case for one of them. So I wouldn't be surprised if she ran into a bunch of hollywood directors at some fancy party or something, like Gabriel hosts.

Lila:(stopping him from grabbing the book) Of course she's in your book. She's one of the most important superheroes. More powerful and more celebrated than Ladybug. (Marinette is angered by the comment) Between you and me Ladybug doesn't even make the top ten. (Marinette bites down on the book) My grandma gave me this necklace.

Superheroes exist in this world, and have for a long time, so it's not that ridiculous. Though it WOULD be weird that Adrien had never heard of her if she was as celebrated as she claims. And it helps that the book confirms that there were a ton of superheroes around who Adrien never heard of before.

Lila: It's absolutely amazing! Prince Ali invited me and my parents to his gorgeous palace.

One of her moms is a diplomat, so this wouldn't be too out of place.

Lila: Oh, it's nothing much! During our world travels, my diplomat parents have helped me convince the leaders of several nations to agree to reduce world pollution. (Adrien shakes his head) And I'm very optimistic that the prince will jump on board.

Again, this really isn't that crazy. One of her moms DOES appear to be a diplomat, and this is the sort of thing diplomats do.

Lila: Yes, I suffer from tinnitus, a constant ringing in my left ear. I've had it ever since the sound of an airplane engine burst my eardrum on the runaway when I was saving Jagged Stone's lost kitten.

The class has interacted with Jagged Stone several times, so it's not that weird that Lila might have as well. Heck, Marinette is his go-to designer for his album covers. And Jagged IS the type to be this careless with a kitten.

Lila: Now it is, yes. But he had a kitten until he found out he was allergic to it.

This happens to a lot of people.

Lila: I'm sorry I can't carry my own tray. It's almost impossible with this sprained wrist.

Spraining wrists is typical, and it can be hard to carry weight when this happens, especially at certain angles.

Lila: (drops napkin) Uh, ow! Once when I was in India, I witnessed someone getting their eye gouged out by the corner of a napkin. If I hadn't caught it, this napkin could've injured Max. I didn't have a choice. Ow!

This is the only lie I've seen Lila tell that isn't really feasible. No way that someone's eye got gouged out this way. That being said, it could still cause some damage if it hit the eye and the eye wasn't protected by an eyelid or glasses. Which Max's eyes are, but it makes sense that she wouldn't have had time to think about that in the half a second she had to react.

Lila: Adrien, we'll have to figure when you're gonna help me catch up on all the schoolwork I missed. I also heard you play piano, my uncle's the great pianist Chuch Boroughchuck. He wanted to teach me when I was little, but I had to stop playing because of arthritis. But when my wrist gets better, I'd love for you to give me some lessons.

I knew someone with childhood arthritis, and her having an uncle who's a great pianist isn't any more absurd than Marinette having a great-uncle who's a world-famous chef.

Lila: Oh, I'd love to test your video game, Max, but I promised Prince Ali we'd go on a charity cruise over the Seine on his yacht this afternoon. Sorry.

This just falls under the same category as Lila's earlier lies about knowing Prince Ali and helping to promote charitable causes with him. Which Rose also does, she just doesn't travel with him. Makes sense that Lila might though, since one of her moms is a diplomat.

I'm having trouble thinking of other lies Lila told of this sort of type after this, since she was able to tell the truth mostly, what with being a model for Gabriel.

So yeah. Most of these lies are very plausible, and are way less weird than the Miracuclass's general experiences. The absurd thing is that they're impressed, not that they buy it.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

The fact so many are really out there cherry-picking Robert Eggers interviews to justify their incorrect interpretations of “Nosferatu” (2024) ending is wild. Some are really obsessing over the “vengeance” detail and taking it out of context while ignoring everything else. This is peak denial, and you are grasping at straws, at this point.

Linda Muir, the costume designer, reveals Ellen’s costumes showcase her progressive liberation from Victorian society until she’s fully liberated at the end, and her nature takes over;

Robert Eggers calls the union between Ellen and Orlok “a sacred marriage”, a “completion of some kind of destiny”, “sex and death”, and how Orlok is the only person who can understand and fulfill Ellen;

Bill Skarsgård described the ending as “sex and ecstasy”, and “maybe that is what Orlok wanted all along”, and that this story is “a very heightened fairy tale/dark story, but also it's two people potentially falling in love. It isn't love, it's something else, but love is maybe the closest thing to it that you can kind of relate to”;

Lily-Rose Depp said: “she's [Ellen] doing a good deed and she's breaking the curse, but she's also indulging in a dark desire that she has” and how “ it’s a love story with Count Orlok” and “there’s a mutual yearning there”;

David White, the Prosthetics and Make-up Designer said they made “a different paint job” on Orlok to give a “sense that there’s some kind of twisted romance going on here” because the idea wasn’t “grossing everyone out. It’s quite delicate. The beats that Robert’s looking for, he’s very good at pacing those things.”

Linda Muir also confirmed the lilacs connect Ellen and Orlok, even though this is obvious in the film itself, it’s the visual storytelling of their yearning: “this lavender hue subliminally underscores the connection between Ellen and Orlok, who remembers lilacs from when he was alive.”

Robert Eggers also confirmed Ellen and Orlok are inspired by Catherine and Heathcliff from “Wuthering Heigths” by Emily Brontë. Catherine and Heathcliff are reunited in the spiritual realm after their physical deaths, and Mr. Lockwood sees their spirits approaching the window. The last shot of Von Franz is him at the window, smiling.

Robert Eggers also revealed he was inspired by “Svengali” (1931); where Svengali could only have the female lead love in death (“Oh, God, grant me in death what you denied me in life; the woman I love”) and also “La Belle et la Bête” (Beauty and the Beast) (1946), where the maiden’s love breaks the curse of the beast.

The only mentions of Thomas in interviews is how he’s greedy, loves his wife but doesn’t understand her (no shade, but it is what it is). But you really think her sacrifice is about him!? Linda Muir literally tells us Ellen is progressively breaking free from Victorian society until she’s fully liberated at the end, so the point of her sacrifice isn’t to save Victorian society, either. These are collaterals of the true reason; breaking the curse, like Lily-Rose Depp says. The ending is about Ellen and Orlok, and their union.

Ellen doesn’t “defeat” Orlok, they both get exactly what they want. Only idiots with confirmation bias from previous adaptations and no understanding of this story interpret the ending this way, even though all the interviews from the cast and crew, the inspirations and the film itself (if you take the time to actually break it down in a serious manner, with the historical and folklore context), contradict this interpretation.

Many also don’t know how spiritual contracts work; Orlok wanted Ellen’s soul and he got it. It’s a spiritual contract. They were both meant to die. He literally tells her “you not for living” in the prologue, and “you are not of human kind” twice. Their covenant is: “You are not for the living. You are not for human kind. And you shall be one with me ever-eternally […] As our spirits are one, so too shall be our flesh. You are mine.” They have sex not only to consummate their marriage, but because the breaking of the curse is a Sex Magick ritual (“maiden fair did offer up her love unto the beast, and with him lay in close embrace until first cock crow”). Robert Eggers show us Herr Knock performing a Şolomonari Sex Magick ritual (masturbation) for a reason.

Ellen gave him her soul; he is already dead, his spirit is trapped in that rotten corpse and has to be set free (break the curse, “her willing sacrifice freed them from the plague of Nosferatu”) and she has to die for this covenant to be fulfilled: “willing sacrifice”; Orlok asks her “you accept this, of your own will?”

The Şolomonari codex of secrets with the instructions Von Franz found not only belonged to Orlok, he wrote it himself; in Romanian folklore the final assignment at the Scholomance (the school located in the Carpathian Mountains in Transylvania, where Orlok studied to become a Şolomonar) was to copy one's entire knowledge of humanity into a "Şolomonar's book". This is based on the “Dracula” novel; Dracula also studied at the Scholomance. Von Franz says “their Nosferatu” is Şolomonari after he finds the book; he’s confirming to the audience the book is Orlok’s (the confirmed Şolomonar by the narrative; Knock is not a Şolomonar, he didn’t attend the Scholomance). This isn’t a “fan theory” and Robert Eggers doesn’t need to confirm in interviews what his film already confirms to the audience.

Orlok wanted Ellen to break his curse, and set his spirit free. When the “vampire hunters” arrive at Grünewald Manor, Von Franz tells Thomas to “set the daemon’s spirit free” (foreshadowing for Orlok’s death). Orlok also wants Ellen’s spirit by his side, forever, in the spiritual world. That is his whole motivation in this story. A curse she put on him when she brought him back from the dead, and cursed him to be a strigoi. How the hell are you taking revenge on someone while you are breaking the curse you, yourself, put upon them, in the first place? Simple, the “vengeance” Eggers talks about has nothing to do with Ellen and Orlok, and the 2023 script is filled with incorrect dialogue and descriptions, especially of the ending scene: this script says Orlok just falls over Ellen, and that doesn’t happen. She embraces him and comforts him while the sun is killing his physical form.

Ellen accepts Orlok because only him can understand and fulfill her (“I cannot be sated without you”), and she finally realizes her nature won’t ever be accepted by Victorian society (like Orlok intended when he gave her the “countdown”), because she’s not for the living, she’s not for human kind. Her and Orlok are dual-natured spirits who belong to Pagan times.

This is what Robert Eggers intended, this is what the cast and crew interview tell us, and the film itself, not your half-baked wishful thinking interpretations based on one word and on a script that’s incorrect. Eggers won’t even share with us his Orlok backstory and you really think he’s allowing the actual script to be online.

[felassan]

hi! first of all, love your blog, everything is so organized and there's so much info out there about everything and you having this blog makes it easier to find.

so there's something that idk if i saw on this blog or if i made up in my head and maybe you could help? I remember seeing something somewhere about how the devs or at least david gaider didn't understand why so many sided with the mages. do you know anything about that or did I made that up completely in my head?

hello! ◕‿◕ tysm for the nice comment about my blog. I'm happy that it can be helpful!!

rest of post under cut for length.

if you think you may have read it here, could you be thinking of one or some of these quotes from [this] post series? those posts are some notes I made of things which David Gaider said (pls keep that context in mind when reading the below) during some Twitch streams some years ago. as far as I know the original streamed videos are no longer available.

"The experience of a mage in the world isn’t represented or conveyed very well to the player when the player is a mage. The experience of the player when they’re playing a mage or have a mage in their party doesn’t really match up with how the world lore tells them how dangerous mages can be - for example, how they can lose control and so on, we never really have an example of a PC mage struggling with being taken over by a demon. This was originally supposed to be a subplot in DA2 for mage Hawkes, in one of the last cuts. In Act 2, mage Hawke was originally slowly being tricked by a demon in their head that they thought was real, only to realize at the last minute. Mouse the Pride demon in the mage Origin is the only time in the entire series that they really ever properly demonstrated how demons can fuck with [PC] mages. Also, PC templars were originally supposed to have a permanent lyrium addiction that they needed to ‘feed’, but this was scrapped as the system designers weren’t keen on it and felt that it was essentially handicapping the player."

"They managed to keep the Tranquil in. There was a while there where they were going to be cut. At the same time, DG regrets that they couldn’t solve the making of the player more aware of how mages are dangerous, thing. Players could make a cogent argument like “they’re not that dangerous, look at me [mage PC]” and the writers were like “well… yeah, that is fair”. It was a case of showing one thing and the player experience of it being another. DG feels that this made the templars come off worse than they are. DG feels that they are being massively unfair and too extreme in their approach to the problem, but the problem itself is a real thing. He feels that there’s some merit/truth in the argument that mages are oppressed, but he looks at it more like an issue like gun control rather than as treatment of oppressed people, saying that we don’t have an example in real life of oppressed people who can explode into demons and cast fireballs and so on."

"Going into DA2, the team had a long discussion of the themes of the game, the whole ‘security versus freedom’ argument. “Let’s try to understand the motivations of people who do things wrong. Is it possible to feel sympathy for somebody who might otherwise be labelled a terrorist? Is it possible to understand why templars might view the mages with fear?” As a whole, DA tries to encompass villains that have motives we can understand a little better. DG feels that Corypheus isn’t one of these. He’s less a villain and more an antagonist or plot device. There are certain things that they did wrong with the implementation of Cory in the game. Originally in DAI he attacked Skyhold as well as Haven. Cutting the Skyhold attack for example made him seem like less of a threat."

"There are certain spells/abilities in D&D that can make a GM’s life frustrating, such as teleportation, telling the future, resurrection. The fact that death is not permanent, for instance, should be a huge thing that affects society and how the people in it view death. This is why they were thinking stuff like “If every low-level mage in the setting had a skill like ‘Charm Person’, what would non-mages make of that?”"

or maybe something from [here], or an [old post] [random example] David Gaider made on the original official BioWare Forum? 🤔 [the forum was archived by fans on Fextralife] or could you be thinking of something that he said on his old Tumblr? [this] and [this] are links to some Tumblr blogs which archived some of the original Tumblr. it might be worth browsing through those/searching them for "mages" and suchlike in case it turns anything up. :>

apologies if nothing here is pinging as familiar. :<

[thehollowwriter]

RAAAH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS AHSJDJD. I did actually make a post a while back discussing how mysgony and favouritism towards men is especially blatant when it comes to parents. Mr and Mrs Rosehearts, Amity's parents (thank you for that btw I'm tired of Mr Blight being so babied), and even Vi and Silco from Arcane (Vi is not a mom and she and Silco aren't together obviously, but Vi is parentified and demonised as an abusive monster while Silco is regarded as the "best father in animated history")

Mrs Rosehearts is terrible of course, but it's very telling when fans take it and run and suddenly not only is she controlling, now she's homophobic and transphobic and racist even though there is 0 indication of that. Even I fell into this trap in the past, and looking back on it it's nothing but mysgony.

If Mr and Mrs Rosehearts were to trade places, it's very likely that, even though the fandom would still hate him, he would be given mountains of backstory and characterisation that would make him more sympathetic and human. In reality he, like you said, is either ignored or automatically assumed to be a victim too even though his silence and lack of action is also abuse (And, at least in my experience, that makes him almost worse than Mrs Rosehearts)

We barely know anything about Azul's bio dad, and though some people imagine him to be abusive, there's a lot of grace given to his character. If we were to make him Azul's bio mom instead, well, there would be a lot of character bashing and hatred and probably "I think Azul's bio mom is the reason he hates himself actually!" type of shit

Like op says, that it's fairly common to find some creators writing/drawing/etc mainly Mrs Rosehearts getting what she "deserves" by depicting her being hit by car, attacked, mutilated, murdered, having her life ruined, etc. This isn't necessarily bad on it's own, but it's the intense pleasure people get from it feels less like "justice" and more of a reminder of how much people subconsciously love watching female characters suffer even if it's for the most minor of things. It's uncomfortable. It's scary.

I know for a fact if she was a man it would just be "Oh silly Mister Rosehearts you need to go to therapy so you can stop traumatising your son lol" maybe "You need to be bonked on the head/beat up a bit and sent to therapy" at worst. (I'm an avid Rollo defender but even though people are fairly terrible to him, he still gets the "poor guy needs therapy" treatment and is not treated with anywhere near as much vitriol as Mrs Rosehearts)

Lilia, as much as I love him, isn't the best most perfect father in the whole wide world. He loves children deeply of course but he is also unintentionally neglectful and sometimes blind to their struggles (*gestures to book 7*) This is however simply brushed over and ignored (in fact it's treated more like "just silly fae family things") and it's a shame because it really does feel like something that's important to acknowledge.

There's also the problem of side characters who appear in events or in important story moments. Skully? Neige? Baul? Knight of Dawn? Tons of fanart, fanfic, theories, analysis, etc. So much appreciation for their designs, how they're written/their story overall, and so on, even if their appearances are brief. (*cough there's also the fact that Baul's wife gets tossed aside to ship him with Lilia and I've read too many fics where he's just cheating on her and it's just "Eh I didn't love her that much anyway" like come on :/)

But then we get to Najma (though she's a poc girl so she's ignored most of the time)... and Meleanor... and Dilla... hell, even Epel's grandmother, and it's "mommy" and art of them in skimpy clothes that barely hide anything (and in Najma's case from some art I've seen... incredibly racist "hot bellydancer" art) and "Milf! Milf! Milf!" "Ohhh her booobs..." which sure the other side characters got too... but the difference is that isn't *all* they got. People literally fell in love with a MOB STUDENT (Scarabia Student B iirc) and gave him all kinds of lore and characterisation, but these ladies barely get anything.

Yes there is some analysis mainly with Meleanor (but c'mon she's the most popular male twst characters' mom so :/) but there still isn't... much. Nobody cares unless it's turned into something hot and alluring. Nobody has much to say apart from lustful comments about their bodies.

Anyways yeah that's my rant for the day ansnsnsnddndnfn

It really is quite noticeable that when the male characters in TWST (even the one-off ones) do somethings fucked up that there's at least 10 people writing essays on how their pookie is So Much More Complex than that vs a woman being even mentioned negatively by a male character and therefore we get treated to people drawing her "getting what she deserves" and calling her a bitch.

[demigodsanswer]

So you really are incapable of making a bad AU I'm absolutely loving the tattoo AU. I love mom annabeth and sophia, I love the lukabeth angst, I love the potential percy & luke angst, I love the fact that you have percabeth basically flip their traditional roles while staying true to their character (annabeth is still a genius and percy is still goofy but they can be so much more too!!). I hope you expand on this story more I wanna see percabeth develop and percy form a relationship with sophia and everything that does to annabeth bc we all know girl can overthink. Anyway I'm rambling but I love your writing you're probably my favorite fic writer and I just adore everything you come up with.

Thank you so much! I've noodled around with a few more ideas. Right now, the fic is really heavy on the Lukabeth B+ Coparenting, with just a side of Percy going "hell yeah, hot milfs in my area want me!"

(for any concerned, given what I did to him in tuap, this Luke is genuinly a good dad, and also mostly pathetic and sopping wet.

he spent his teen years in love with a girl who turned out to be a lesbian who got a tubal ligation at 27, and at 29 she introduced him to a pretty 24 year old who he might like. he ended up not liking her that much on a romantic level, but now he's tethered to her forever. Oh and the love of his life's snot nosed baby cousin is back in town, six feet tall, chiseled, and handsome, and now he's sleeping with his baby mama. And all Luke wants to do is take his daughter to disneyworld while princesses and minnie mouse are still real for her. And for some reason, baby mama isn't immediately on board with the idea. and he's also starting to think he might be gay. he's had a rough six years)

Here's a little bit more -- set a week after the last bit:

~~

Percy still had his hand around her waist as they walked into the shop, ignoring the people queued up in line. 

“I’m serious about that Sting tattoo,” Percy said. 

“Give me a week to design a better one than what I scribbled on a place-mat,” she said. 

“Deal, but next week,” Percy said. 

“I book up months in advance, you’ll have to try your luck with a walk-in,” she said, turning towards him. His hands rested on her hips, and he looked at her with that troublemaker smile. Thank goodness he was on a tenure track; soon, whatever trouble he got into wouldn’t matter. “Of course,” she pulled him in a little closer by the belt loops, “I might be able to find the time, if you ate me out again.” 

Percy smiled and brushed some hair behind her ear. “Baby, I’ll do that again, tattoo or not.” 

“Stop being gross in my establishment,” Thalia yelled at them. “Things went well then?” She asked, looking between them. 

“Yeah,” Annabeth confirmed, stepping away from Percy. 

“So, should we expect a mini Percy in nine months?” Thalia asked. 

Annabeth rolled her eyes and sat on the stool behind the reception desk. “I’m more careful at thirty than I was at twenty-four.” 

“Not thirty yet,” Thalia reminded her. 

“Birthday coming up?” Percy asked. 

“In July,” Annabeth confirmed. 

“July fifteenth, mark your calendar, we’re taking her out,” Thalia told him. She watched Percy take out his phone and make a note of it. Annabeth smiled. 

She was about to warn him that she didn’t really party much anymore, but her phone buzzed. She slipped it out of her back pocket and stared at the screen. 

Luke 

Calling her? 

On a Sunday morning? 

She held the phone up to Thalia. “This can’t be good,” Annabeth announced. 

“You better take it,” Thalia said. 

Annabeth answered. 

“Hey?” 

“Hey, don’t freak out.” He sounded completely freaked out, which only freaked her out more. 

“Why?” She asked, turning to face Thalia and Percy so they could read her expression. 

“Sophie got hurt at the park. She fell. We’re in the ER,” he told her. 

“What?” Her heart raced, and she ran a hand through her bangs. 

“They did the X-rays, she broke her arm.” He sounded guilty, and sad, and scared. Although the sad and scared might have just been her projection. She turned away from Percy and Thalia then, her eyes welling with tears. 

“Is she okay?” Annabeth asked. 

She felt a hand on her shoulder, then a head. Thalia. Thalia’s arms wrapped around her, and held her upright. In her periphery, she watched Thalia flip off the walk-ins who were staring at them through the window. 

“She’s okay. They gave her pain meds and set the arm. They just need to put it in a cast and discharge her. We should be out of here in an hour,” he told her. 

“Why didn’t you call me sooner?” Annabeth almost yelled at him. 

“I’ve been trying. There’s no cell reception in here. I didn’t want to leave her alone.”

All she ever wanted to do was get mad at him, but he always had a reason to keep her from exploding at him. 

“Well, tell her I’ll be there in -- what hospital are you at?” 

“Beth-Israel, fifteen minutes from Electric if you’re there already,” he said. 

“Tell her I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” she said. 

“You don’t need to -- I mean, I’ll bring her right to you --” 

“No, I’m coming, and tell her I’ll be there,” Annabeth said. 

“Okay,” Luke said, “we’ll see you soon.” 

Annabeth hung up with a huff, before wiping at her eyes, grateful now that she decided against make up that morning. 

Annabeth’s hands shook as she opened the Uber app, and Thalia just took the phone from her. 

“I got it,” she promised, “he said Beth-Israel?” 

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, her voice thin and squeaky. 

“Kids get hurt, mama,” Thalia reminded her, as she confirmed the ride, “but if you go in there all weepy, it’ll scare her.” 

Annabeth nodded and grabbed tissues from the box on the counter. Percy handed her a cup of coffee. 

“Thanks,” Annabeth said to him. 

“Is she okay?” Percy asked. He hadn’t heard most of Luke’s part of the conversation like Thalia had. 

“She broke her arm,” Annabeth said. 

“I did that when I was seven,” Percy said, “it hurt, but once the bone was set, it was okay. And I still have arms,” he said with a dopey smile, holding up his two forearms to prove it. 

“Which arm?” Annabeth asked, not sure why. 

Percy pointed to his SPQR. “It broke right about there,” he said. 

 Her phone buzzed again. Her Uber was pulling up. 

“I’ll call you?” She said to Percy. Percy gave her a thumbs up. “Do you need me to come back?” She asked Thalia. 

“Just walk ins today, mama. Just take her home.” Thalia took out her wallet and handed Annabeth a twenty. “Buy her an ice cream on me.” 

Annabeth smiled. “Her dad is probably going to buy her all of Disney World after this, I’m sure.” 

“Good, he should,” Thalia said, turning Annabeth towards the door. “It’s just ink, it’ll be here tomorrow.” 

And with that, Annabeth was out the door. 

~

The nurses all seemed to figure out who Annabeth was right away. She didn’t know if Luke told them to look for a blonde woman covered in tattoos, or if she really did just look that much like her daughter. 

They had given her a private room in the ER. It wasn’t too busy it seemed, and the nurses directed her there easily. 

Sophia was sitting up in a big hospital bed, still in a pink tee shirt and gray sweats, while Luke read something to her. Her tiny arm was in a beige cast. 

“Mommy!” Sophia called out, her eyes immediately filling with tears, her good arm reaching out to her, as both she and Luke said “be careful with your arm!” at the same time. 

“Hi nugget,” Annabeth said, running over to her, and scooping her up in a big hug, mindful of her injury. 

Sophia sobbed into her shoulder, her little lungs struggling to push out words as she became hysterical. “I was -- on the -- swings -- even though -- you told me -- not to -- and I jumped off -- even though Daddy -- told me not to -- and I fell -- and I got hurt -- and I learned my lesson!” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Annabeth promised her, rocking her gently back and forth in her lap as she cried. “You’re not in trouble, I promise. You’re okay.” 

Annabeth glared at Luke over Sophia’s shoulder though. You are in trouble, she tried to communicate. Luke looked away, guilty. 

“Aw see, I told you your mommy would be here soon,” the nurse said, walking into the room. He was a male nurse with dark skin and locks pulled back in a pink bandana. “She was very brave, mama. But all she wanted was you. All the nurses have been on the lookout.” 

Annabeth looked at Luke again, angrier now then she had been. This time he didn’t even try to look at her. 

“I bet you were so brave,” Annabeth said to her girl, pushing down her anger. “I bet Daddy was scared.” 

Sophia nodded, her tears slowing and her breathing calming down. Annabeth wiped her tears away with her thumb. 

“Did this nice man get you all fixed up?” Annabeth asked. Sophia nodded. “Did you say your thank yous?” Sophia nodded again. 

“Alright Sophia,” the man said, “I got the colors, which one do you want?” Annabeth spotted his name tag as he moved closer. Austin. She hoped her brain held onto it through everything. 

There was blue, purple, orange, yellow, and pink. 

“Your Belle dress is yellow,” Annabeth said. 

“Oh, I’ve heard about the Belle dress,” Austin said. “Do you want yellow?” 

Sophia shook her head and pointed to the pink. 

“Pink?” Austin confirmed. 

Sophia nodded. 

“Can we use our words, nugget?” Annabeth asked. 

“Pink please,” Sophia said. 

“You got it girlie. Mama, we are gonna need you to put her down for this part.” 

Annabeth nodded and got Sophia back into the bed. 

A few minutes later, the hard cast was in place, and Sophia was cleared for discharge. They’d check on the arm in three weeks, and go from there. 

“I want to go home,” Sophia mumbled into Annabeth’s shoulder while Luke filled out the discharge papers. Sophia was under his health insurance. 

“I bet. We’ll go right home, I promise,” Annabeth said. She looked at Luke standing at the desk, filling out forms. It was still his day with her. She rolled over her options in her mind. If she wanted Sophia to herself, she’d bet Luke would allow it. But -- “Do you want Daddy to come home with us?” Annabeth asked. 

Sophia nodded. 

“Okay sweetie,” Annabeth said. 

A minute later, Luke was walking up to them. “We’re all set,” he said. 

“We want to go home,” Annabeth said, adjusting Sophia on her hip, holding onto her tight despite her weight. 

“Right,” Luke said, “sure, I figured --” 

“Will you come back with us?” Annabeth offered. 

Luke’s face lit up. “Really? You’re sure?” 

“Sophia wants you to,” Annabeth said. As if to prove, Sophia reached for her dad, who took her from Annabeth, holding her with more ease than Annabeth had been. 

“Okay,” Luke said, “let's go home then.” 

~

Sophia fell asleep in the Uber, and Luke carried her inside. 

“I’ll order lunch,” Luke said, walking out of her bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

“Great, thanks,” Annabeth said, her tone short. For want of something to do, she started on the dishes she left in the sink. 

Luke’s arms snaked around her waist and he rested his head on her shoulder. 

“What the hell are you doing?” She asked. 

“Begging your forgiveness,” he said. 

“Okay. Beg,” she told him. 

He squeezed her a bit, and then said, rather pathetically, “Please don’t take her away from me.” 

Annabeth laughed, confused. “What?” 

“I’m sorry she got hurt, but please, I … I don’t want to stop seeing her.” 

Annabeth put the dishes down and pulled herself out of his hold. She turned to look at him. “Kids get hurt,” she reminded him. “Would you sue me for custody if she broke her arm on my watch? Or would you sue her school if she got hurt there?

“No,” Luke said, “but you are mad at me.” 

“Oh, I’m so mad at you I could scream,” Annabeth confirmed. 

“See, that’s the difference. I also wouldn’t be mad at you if she got hurt on your watch --” 

“I’m not mad she’s hurt!” Annabeth yelled, before bringing her voice back down to a whisper. “I’m mad that I told you no swings, and that you decided to undermine me, even though you said you wouldn’t. I’m fucking pissed that you told me not to go to the hospital when she’d been asking for me. All the nurses were looking for me!” Annabeth reminded him. 

“By the time I got ahold of you,” he said it as if she simply hadn’t been answering her phone, “we had barely an hour left, you didn’t need to at that point --” 

“You should have called me sooner!” 

“I was trying! She was in so much pain. I didn’t want to leave her alone. What would you have done? Stuck in a hospital, no cell service, when would you have called me?” 

“In the taxi on the way to the fucking hospital,” she said, poking his chest with a stiff finger. “What are you getting for lunch?” She asked. 

“Jersey Mikes?” He suggested. 

“Great, you know what she likes?” 

“American cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and bread,” Luke rattled off. 

“No oil or vinegar,” she reminded him. 

“I know.” 

~

Annabeth woke Sophia up after an hour and got her to eat. Sophia, blessedly, gave her parents a break from Beauty and the Beast and selected Encanto. Annabeth relaxed finally, nibbling on an okay Italian sub as the iconic tunes of Lin Manuel Miranda entertained her kid. 

“Your grandpa is a big fan of the guy who did the music for this movie,” Luke told Sophia. 

“Poppop likes Encando?” She asked. 

“Sure does,” Luke confirmed. 

At six, Thalia dropped by. “I had to come check on our tiny badass,” Thalia said, running over to hug Sophia as she giggled at the bad word. (Annabeth told her Sophia wasn’t allowed to say swear words until she was eighteen, and Sophia seemed to interpret this as legally she wasn’t allowed. Annabeth hadn’t corrected her).

“Nice cast,” Thalia said, reaching into her tote bag and pulling out a huge pack of Sharpies. “I brought you these so me and your mom can give you some tattoos on your cast.” 

Sophia grabbed the markers with a big thank you hug for her aunt, and Thalia squeezed her back. Crotch goblin, ha. 

Sophia started to rattle off the things she wanted Annabeth to draw, and Annabeth just smiled. “Okay, why don’t you sleep on it, and then pick out what you want where?” Annabeth suggested. Sophia nodded, obviously taking the decision about her tattoos very seriously. 

“Now, I told your mom to take you out for ice cream,” Thalia said. Sophia looked at Annabeth, obviously already feeling betrayed. “Has she?” 

“No!” Sophia announced. 

“Well! We should fix that,” Thalia said. 

“We were getting there,” Annabeth promised, “but we can go now. Go get your shoes on.” 

Thalia pointed to Luke as Sophia ran to get her shoes. “Are we taking the pouty one?” 

“Not sure I deserve ice cream,” Luke said. 

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a martyr, come on!” She said, pulling him to his feet. 

Sophia picked the brightest blue ice cream Annabeth had ever seen. It was just vanilla, allegedly, with Oreos, but dyed bright blue to look like its namesake: the Cookie Monster. Annabeth stuffed napkins into her cast to keep it clean. 

After a careful bath (with Sophia’s arm wrapped in a trash bag), Annabeth and Luke took turns reading more of The Hobbit to her until her eyes finally started to close. Thalia had been gone since Annabeth announced it was bath time, and now that Sophia was asleep, it was just her and her baby daddy. 

“Should I stay over?” Luke asked. 

“Oh,” Annabeth said. He did stay sometimes. They shared the bed when he did. It wasn't a big deal. It usually happened if Sophia was sick, or on Christmas eve. “Sure, uh,” shit, “I just need to change my sheets,” she said. 

There was a long, terrible pause as Luke figured it out. “You and Percy slept together already?” He asked, obviously judging her. 

“Yeah, so?” she asked, crossing her arms. 

“Seems a bit fast,” he said. 

“Well, I haven’t had sex with someone since you,” Annabeth said, “so forgive me for having some fun.” 

“I’m not mad at you --” 

“But you’re judging me --” 

“It’s just of all the guys --” 

“What’s wrong with Percy?” 

“He’s like a little brother to me!” 

“He told me you two weren’t close!” 

“Not anymore! It’s --” Luke lowered his voice. “It’s fine,” he promised, “I’ll just go home. Do with the sheets what you will.” 

Annabeth frowned. She wasn’t sure how he managed to do it, but she always felt compelled to apologize to him at the end of every spat. She held herself back this time. 

“Alright,” Annabeth said. “I’ll keep you posted about the doctor’s.” 

Luke nodded. “What about …” he glanced at Sophia’s door, “that thing we were talking about.” 

Disney World. 

Annabeth smiled and nodded. “You’re right, we should do it. It’ll mean the world to her. It’s so generous, Luke, I … I’m sorry I wasn’t immediately grateful like I should have been.” 

He shrugged as if to say it’s fine. “You’ll come with us?” Luke asked. 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Annabeth said. “I can cover myself --” 

Luke kissed her head. “I don’t want you to. Just go and enjoy yourself.” 

“Okay, I will,” Annabeth said. 

“My friend’s wife is a Disney travel agent. She thinks she can get us into the Beauty and the Beast restaurant.” 

“Oh Sophia will love that,” Annabeth agreed. “Do they serve chicken nuggets?” 

“I’d bet my life they do,” Luke said. 

He leaned in again and kissed her cheek as a goodbye, but when he pulled back, his face lingered. She didn’t stop him from kissing her lips. They tried this every few months or so. 

“Anything?” Annabeth asked when it was over. 

“No,” he confirmed. “You?” 

“Nothing.” 

Luke seemed a bit sad but just shrugged. “Worth a try,” he decided. “I’ll be in touch about vacation,” he promised, before leaving her and Sophia alone. 

[iwoulddieforher]

Liebmichallee | Alex Cabot × Casey Novak

heavy warnings for discussions of suicide and drug use !! HEAVY WARNING !! also, as a side note, I as an author do not personally believe that suicide is selfish. But Casey has existing dialogue in the show where she implies she thinks so, so. that's what she says

Summary: Casey shows up at Alex's house a week after being brought before the Bar and God ... she is a mess

A/N: Short, unedited, unbeta-read. Not counting this as an official work because it wasn't intended to be published (I don't like it very much) but people responding said I should, so ...

Ficlet is written essentially entirely from Alex's perspective, intentionally, you're not supposed to know what's going on with Casey except for the degree Alex is aware of.

Written in continuation to That's A Damn Shame, so it makes sense to read that fic first ... but you don't need too. Context: Homicide Bureau Chief Alex & SVU ADA Casey (Alex engaged to Robert Stilton, like she is in Conviction)

Casey Novak knew more about her than potentially anyone else had or ever would have, with the possible exception of Olivia Benson. But Olivia wasn't the one Alex kept seeking out, kept spending long hours staring at from the couch in Casey's office that Alex had claimed as her designated spot for whenever she wasn't actively working.

Casey Novak had saved her life, saved her glory, saved her dignity. Witness protection had made Alex meek and humbled, Casey Novak and her ferocity and the odd thrum of her heart in her chest as she had watched the redhead tie the verbal noose around her would-have-been assassin had made her regain that innate sense of being above it all in a way she knew no one else would've been able to do.

Casey Novak had mottled brown-and-blonde hair, and she had recently begun wearing it in large, loose curls that swayed as she sauntered from room to room in her heels and tailored slacks. Her features were angular yet simultaneously so delicate and gentle that Alex couldn't help but allow her to burn herself into the dark behind Alex's eyelids-

Alexandra Cabot thought of Casey Novak perhaps a bit more than she should. She was her favorite confidant, though, the term they had finally settled on that did not at all manage to capture the extent to which she valued Casey.

Casey Novak was currently standing dazed on her doorstep, head bowed, her green eyes, as they stared aimlessly somewhere near Alex's face, so dull and haunted it was terrifying.

Alex wasted no time crossing the boundary of the door and wrapping the younger woman in her arms, a vague idea what was wrong- Casey had been called before the bar, she had heard that through the gossip thrum, and although she had stopped by her office to see how she was doing the only thing she had found were workers beginning to prep the space for someone else. It made her sick, and she had called, but Casey at that time hadn't answered.

And- that was now nearly a week ago.

She had kept telling herself Casey was not obligated to reach out to her, to tell her her plans, how she would move forward. She did not have to tell her where she was, nor how she was doing. She knew the woman was a hothead and reckless at times- not that she thought at all what had happened was acceptable, she felt outrage trickling in her throat like hot sand, it was her first real violation and the threats that had been made were so severe - this was hard to grapple with. If it was hard for her to grapple with, it must be impossible for Casey.

Perhaps that was why Casey was in her embrace now, limp arms hanging by her sides, covered only by a thin blouse- where was her coat, her scarf? Where had she come from dressed like this? Casey didn't live near her, but Alex knew she didn't like to ride share and a quick glance didn't notify the presence of her bike. Regardless, Alex wanted to get her inside, and from the way Casey was unmoving, she thought it would be an easy task to do.

Evidently, it was not. The second Alex pulled her body into her's, expecting a stiff hug and then the ability to usher her over the doorframe, Casey's legs gave out with just enough time for the younger woman to snag her hands up and around Alex's shoulder so she didn't fall to her knees on the elder woman's doorstep.

"Casey-?" Alex hushed into her ear, trying to check Casey's wellbeing, but it was difficult with a woman the same size and around the same build as her hanging loosely off of her body. The grip Casey had on her shoulders was an indication of consciousness to some degree, an unwillingness to find herself on the floor, but other than that the younger woman did not respond.

"Who was it?" Came the voice of her fiance behind her and Alex jolted, forgetting for a moment that he was here. They had been eating an excessively late dinner moments prior, before the doorbell rang, and she had assumed with a sigh she was being served or perhaps that Olivia was having a rough case.

She didn't answer him, trying to hold Casey up, trying to shake some form of responsiveness back into the woman's shoulders, which Casey still did not respond too, although with shuddering legs she found her feet again. It made it worse, Casey burying her face awkwardly into Alex's collar in a way in which Alex felt like she was going to be toppled over. Fluid met Alex's skin and she wasn't sure if Casey's nose was running or if she was crying and she couldn't check without letting her go, which she wasn't sure she could do.

"Alexandra?" Stilton called again, and with a small curse muffled in Casey's hair she managed to turn around, slightly, to call back, "Hold on a moment."

She wanted Casey inside, now. Whatever was making her so distraught could be dealt with once Casey was safely inside and when her shoulderblades felt a little less like Casey was about to tear them off. It hurt, but she wouldn't dare try to pull the woman off of her.

"Casey," Alex inhaled and swiveled her head back to face her, pressing a chast kiss on the top of faux blonde locks, "Can you come inside?"

A slow, shaky exhale was all that was elicited into Alex's simple shirt and she sighed, eyes darting around, before pursing her lips and shaking her head. With a furrowed brow, she pressed her nose softly against the woman's bowed head, inhaling the scent of sandalwood and something tarrish. Cigarettes, she recognized, and perhaps something hard like rum lingered on her shallow breath. So, intoxicated, then. It simultaneously made her relax that she could identify some sort of cause and more concerned, because Casey wasn't a smoker, and she never drank herself into a tizzy like this either.

"I'm so sorry, Case, I'm not strong enough to carry you. Help me take you inside, please?"

She felt Casey swallow and struggle, the force of her lean beginning to decrease as she focused on righting herself. Thank god, Alex thought vaguely, but she did not loosen her hold.

"What's happening?" Robert neared the door self-importantly, straightening his tie, and Alex hissed inwardly. She had Casey as a priority, she didn't want to deal with that one right now. She coaxed Casey to stay against her when she felt the younger woman try to pull away, startled by the presence of another, one of Alex's hands raising to cup the back of Casey's skull and keep her face buried against her throat. She knew Casey liked being there, on one of their more haphazardly heady nights Casey had ever dared to murmur it felt like her head was made to fit just there, and in this moment Alex agreed. Casey's struggle to flee to confines of Alex's embrace weakened just as Alex had expected it too- but that only meant the way she was shivering was not advertent.

"I'm not sure." She muttered curtly, her voice a thin line that carried a note of warning, feeling the shake of Casey's form against her. With increasing urgency she resolved out loud to her soon-to-be husband, "But something's wrong and I'm going to take care of her."

Robert raised an eyebrow, which Alex only saw when she twisted her neck back around to face him, and he seemed slightly off guard with the intensity in her clear blue eyes.

"She doesn't look well," he commented with a wrinkle of his nose that made Alex see red for a quarter second, 'll call for an ambulance."

He said this as though it was an offer, like he was doing her a favor, although it was not really an offer so much as a poorly concealed statement. He didn't want his lover to be occupied with whatever wreck of a woman had showed up on his doorstep.

Casey's sudden movement to tug away was as sharp as the harsh, "No," that snapped from Alex's lips. Robert looked taken aback and she could not find it in herself to care, rather, only the growing desire to lash out again. Alex knew Casey couldn't stand hospitals, got nauseous at the smell of disinfectant, and she would not let her be forced to the confines of those walls she hated when Alex could take care of her perfectly well right here.

"Alexandra," Robert tried to implore, and Alex felt her lip curl at the name. He never accepted to calling her the name that felt natural, the shortening to 'Alex', he always addressed her in the same way that her uncle and her superiors did.

"You take enough work home as it is. I know you're trying to volunteer with that domestic abuse shelter but you can't just let some-"

"Get out." Alex snapped, again, feeling Casey push against her ribs and only tightening her hold, offering a stroke of her thumb against the back of Casey's hair to console her, to reassure her, while she dealt with the issue.

"Alexandra." He said firmly, and she raised her eyebrows as if bewildered by his audacity, "You want me to leave our home because some vagabond showed up-"

Oh, she realized internally, he doesn't know who she is. She didn't know why she had expected Robert to know intrinsically, because she had never introduced them, and perhaps she had done that intentionally because she wasn't particularly fond of the idea of the man she spent the majority of her time with standing next to the woman she wanted to spend the majority of her time with. Having them meet like this was not ideal and although he did not recognize her by appearance she knew from the way she mentioned a specific name a bit too often he would recognize her by name if Alex called her that, so she just gritted her teeth awkwardly.

"You act like you don't own other properties," she murmured, softening Casey's squirm with another reassuring squeeze, running the pads of her fingertips through curls in the process of falling out, "You have other places to be."

"I can go," Casey rasped, suddenly, breaking the harsh stare being exchanged by the couple, looking up at Alex with haunted eyes. Alex's heart clenched at the tone of her voice- it seemed gravelly, like she hadn't used it in months, thick with apparent anguish.

Alex craned her neck backwards slightly so Casey could see more of her face when she shook her head, eyes softening immediately the second they fell on her instead of her fiance. She couldn't remove the hand on Casey's back that seemed to be more able to keep Casey upright than the younger woman's own legs, so she hand that was nestled in her hair moved away to cup her face instead, her thumb drawing small lines on her cheekbone.

"No, sweetheart, I don't want you too. I want you to stay here with me, he can go. Can you help me get you inside? You're freezing out here."

"Alexandra," Stilton tried again, his voice like a confused growl, but Alex only kept her eyes on Casey's face, the green glassy eyes rimmed with purple, and snarled under her breath back at him defiantly.

"Alexandra?"

"Just go to the brownstone, okay?" Alex sighed dismissively, "I'll call you in an hour or two."

With a bewildered glare he left to go pull on his coat and lace up his shoes, and Alex returned to coaxing Casey, who returned to being nonverbal. Stilton returned despite her obvious impatience, pressing a forced goodbye kiss to her cheek and then finally leaving, brushing past the bundle of contracted limbs that was Alex and Casey before climbing into his luxury car and vanishing into the night.

"He won't bother you, Case, it's okay, talk to me." Alex hushed, pressing a kiss to the top of Casey's hairline the second Richard was out of view, but Casey was fading back out.

"Let me get you inside," Alex tried instead, starting to grow cold herself on the front steps, having not put on a jacket when she went to go open the door because- well, why would she? She hadn't expected this at all.

She had not expected the person on her doorstep to be Casey, and she had never thought to see Casey in such a state either- a state that was getting worse, because Casey seemed to be dissolving back into her inability to stand once more.

"Casey- god, please, you're scaring me," She whispered, finally, as Casey's knees seemed to buckle beneath her and her hands, this time, didn't manage to grip at Alex's shoulders properly. Alex cursed, momentarily, that she never accepted Olivia's offer to go to the gym with her. That she never toyed with Casey's offer to attempt softball. If she had, maybe she'd be strong enough that Casey wouldn't need to fight to remain vertical right now.

It felt like her words were registered, though, because a second later Casey's eyebrows contorted with effort and she struggled to up and let go- Alex hadn't meant that she needed to let go, she hadn't wanted her too, but whatever- and she allowed Alex to coax her inside. Alex closed the door behind her firmly, and then ushered her over to the couch, which Casey barely made it too before she faltered, hands gripping the armrest with too much vigor until she managed to hit the leather face-first.

"Casey," Alex murmured, trying to help her flip over so she wouldn't suffocate, "fireball, what happened?"

"Not much of a fireball," Casey hushed, her tone low and as though she was mocking herself, but with a squirm and managed to pull herself in a sitting position, hunched back on the couch as Alex stood over her.

Alex swallowed, tasting wary concern budding in her mouth. She thought maybe Casey was just overcome by sorrow and perhaps a glass too much vodka, and that once she got her inside and someplace more lax she'd be different, but Casey was really, really fucked.

"You took something," Alex realized out loud, watching Casey's inhale-exhale pattern plateau at a rate much too high, as if she were panting despite exerting no force, and Casey looked completely disgusted with herself, shrinking away from the concern in the blue eyes.

As the blonde's eyes scrutinized her features, she realized it was worse, her face was flushed and her eyes rimmed with purple from exhaustion and red from crying, her skin paled and blue-tinted as if sickly. She was panting and her body was shivering, and Alex hoped bitterly it was residual from being out cold on the street and not from something worse.

How long had she been on the street? How long had she been like this? And when Casey looked up at her with pupils drawn into small dots Alex cursed under her breath, a shaky hand moving to touch Casey's clammy skin. How long had she-

Oh, oh god. Oh god. Alex recognized that look in her eyes, the pinpoint pupils, the air surrounding her. She didn't like at all where she knew it from.

"An opioid? Jesus, Casey, you've- no one has gotten a hold on you for a week, is this what you've been-?"

"Please don't call anyone," Casey muttered suddenly, "please don't report this, I- he said if, he- if no hospital, then I needed to go to... someone that, because he said he ..."

Fuck, Alex thought, and then tried to find the silver lining in at least Casey hadn't tried to speak much in front of Robert, because they'd be having a much bigger problem then. She felt guilty that was her immediate thought.

"As long as you stay conscious," Alex muttered, her voice dark, running a hand along Casey's jaw, instinctively dropping to her knees, "as long as you stay conscious, I won't call anyone."

"Then ... I'll do my best, to stay awake," Casey slurred, and it sounded like she was making a half-hearted joke, so it didn't call the bundle of fear growing and aching in Alex's heart.

She was speaking slowly, a lot slower than she had been when she stammered, as if she realized her broken sentences were concerning Alex and she was taking special care in each long, drawn out word, so Alex would have the benefit of a coherent statement.

Casey made no move to stop Alex as she rolled her sleeves tentatively up, and when her inner elbow was exposed Alex didn't even stop herself from letting startled tears fall from her face and marr her glasses. She was bruised, pinpricks of red surrounded by larger stains of purple, as though the person who had shot her up was already high- or as though she had tried to shoot up more despite already being high. Perhaps both.

"Fuck, Casey." Alex grimaced, "Why the hell would you- did you not think that I'd..."

Novak blinked, once, as if trying to clear her head, before offering in a low, hopeless hum. "I didn't think ... I'd see you again."

"What are you saying?" Alex bit, incredulousness seeping into her tone, "You thought I'd- what, that you being suspended would- do you think I'm that shallow?"

"No, Alex."

Alex was then scared, and she didn't want Casey to continue, because she realized what she was about to say, and she didn't think she could stand to hear it.

"I didn't think I'd ..." She paused, briefly, and then shook her head. "I wasn't going to see anyone again."

There was a heartbeat, or maybe a lot of them, where the only thing that broke the loud silence was the sound of Casey's soft exhale and Alex swallowing, staring at her blankly. There was no way she meant that. Alex was certainly jumping to conclusions- wasn't she? There was no way that Casey meant that, that she had been planning, that she was going to ...

And then Alex was crying, and Casey wasn't, so it felt like a pretty stupid thing to do, but she couldn't help the loose sobs wracking her body as she thought about what Casey had just implied. Numbly, she realized she had set her face down on Casey's knee, and shaky hands were trying to cradle her face. She pushed Casey's arms away- she couldn't handle being held like that, not right now.

"I shouldn't have told you that; I'm sorry." Casey murmured, holding her hands up in the air by her sides as if she didn't know what to do with them if she wasn't allowed to comfort the woman crying on her knee.

"Who did this to you?" Alex snapped instead, righting herself back up and standing, flinging her glasses to the side so haphazardly they probably broke, but she couldn't care less as she rubbed her eyes and clawed the evidence of her own anguish off her face. "Who gave you- what the hell did you even take?"

Casey stayed silent, looking up at her from the couch with clouded jade eyes, and Alex was unsure if she was processing the question or having an internal dialogue about it.

Alex knew she probably seemed ticked off right now as she began pacing, and that was a shitty thing to do when someone comes to you for comfort, but the idea Casey had chosen to submerge herself in chemicals and- and God forbid, that- instead of coming to her first hurt.

Had she not done enough so that Casey would know she'd- but no, perhaps not, perhaps this was partially her own fault for- no, but- God, this was horrible, and she wasn't equipped to handle this at all. But she both couldn't and didn't want Casey to be anywhere else than right there on her couch so she could have some tattered image of control.

"Did you seek it out?" Alex asked instead, trying to calm herself, sinking back down to her knees just to the side of where Casey was, and at the very least she was relieved when Casey shook her head 'no'.

"How, Casey?"

"I was ..." And Casey averted her eyes, but if Alex was directly asking like this, it seemed like she couldn't deny her the information. "A man- his name, it was something like, his last name sounded like a plant ... I think it- it doesn't matter. He said if- if I really was going to jump, then I might as well ... he might as well show me how good life can feel, first."

"And you've spent a week with this man?" Alex's voice was so low, so quiet, she could barely hear it. A week in which Casey did not return her messages, a week in which she was shooting up and letting herself be miserable while Alex would've broken the bounds of the earth to ensure her safety. Why hadn't Casey just come to her the night of? Tear-streaked face but no wounds, nothing in her system other than perhaps a misery-ridden beer, shaking but entirely from emotion and nothing else. Alex would've thrown her fiance out the same way and held her until she felt-

but perhaps Alex wouldn't have been able to fix it, actually. Maybe Alex couldn't have done anything to help her.

She didn't like that realization at all.

Casey only shrugged, closing her eyes as if pained, while Alex began to panic internally.

"I'm sorry, Casey." She murmured, running a shaky hand through her blonde hair, "I shouldn't- I don't want you to think that I'm angry."

But she was angry, and she was trying not to be at Casey, but this conversation was making her skin feel as though it was crawling off of her like fleshy spiders and the energy that feeling generated had to be directed somewhere. She focused on clenching her jaw, on the feeling of her teeth pressed against each other.

Her mind was concocting images of the woman before her standing numbly on a ledge on some building looking down and not hesitating, ready to leave her behind. The blonde hair Alex had ran her fingers through whipping around her face, the green eyes that had always studied Alex so intently seemingly vacant. It made her feel as though she were about to vomit. Casey could not leave her in that way.

A shudder ran up her spine and she settled back on the couch, this time sitting parallel to Casey, who was not meeting her eyes.

She swallowed. There were too many questions, too many thoughts, too much to verbalize, too much emotion to process. She gently grasped for Casey and tugged her until the faux blonde woman's head was resting on her shoulder, which Casey made no move to change, and then sat there quietly.

"I'm sorry," Casey offered quietly, her voice thick and still slurred.

"I just want you to be okay," Alex hushed, "I just want you to never, ever think about doing this again."

Casey was wordless, silent and still. If it wasn't for the exhale that Alex could feel with the younger woman leaning against her side, Casey could've been dead right then.

"I don't think I could handle it," Alex spoke to fill the silence, spoke to try to clear the growing gnaw of her anxious brain, "If I found out you were gone, if- God, Casey, I work for homicide, I'd need too ..."

"I wasn't in your district," Casey rasped, and Alex began to cry again, but this time it was silent. Tears rolled like large pearls down her face and she did nothing to stop it, blinking down at the coffee table and trying not to imagine a world without a fireball redhead pulling stupid stunts like trying to sue the military. She always seemed to brazen, so harsh, so reflective of life and the burning energy of the sun. What the hell was Alex supposed to do with the information the sun that was currently resting on her shoulder was trying to set, and never rise again?

"That's worse," was all Alex could manage as a response. "I would've found out from someone else, then."

"You don't have to tell me suicide is selfish, Alex, I know it is."

Her voice was stronger now, in the sense her formation of words was stable and more firm, more cohesive, despite still being thick and heavy and husked. Sentences she planned were now steady. Alex wanted to grimace at the word being used in its full regard- they weren't going to continue avoiding the elephant, evidently- but she couldn't find the strength to do so. She just stared blankly ahead of her and tried to breathe evenly.

Alex had mused to herself before, as did most others, that suicide was the easy way out. It damaged the people around an individual who was in pain, and there was always an end to pain, even if one didn't believe there would be, one just needed to wait it out. A person could recover from mental illness but a family can't recover from the death of a loved one. Suicide, in her mind, was a tragedy and a waste. But she'd never think to call Casey selfish, or think about her in that way at all- it felt wrong, and Alex could never consider Casey a selfish person.

"Why?" She murmured hoarsely, folding her hands in her lap and staring at the fingers interlocking her own, feeling Casey's gaze shift to them as well.

"Everything is so hard, ... so pointless." Casey muttered bitterly, an edge to her tone that wasn't present before. Alex wanted to believe it was the drug talking, but Casey seemed more sober than she had before.

"I use to, I- I could delude myself into thinking I was strong, or ... capable enough to defend others from how from how existence feels, from living feels, from- from this."

She gestured at herself as if her own existence was evidence to the doomed nature of life, the needle marks in her arms and the bags under her eyes, the scrapes sitting or laying on floors must have caused that Alex hadn't noticed until that point. The usual prim posture and fiery aura was diminished entirely- if her eyes, simmered as they were, were not that shade of green, Alex would've written her off as someone else based on the sense of presence alone.

"But I'm not." She scoffed, disgust blossoming on her tongue that was entirely self directed, "A cop killer and a rapist walked and there's no one to blame but me. My licence is under scrutiny, and I-"

"You're going to get it back, Casey, three years isn't..."

"I wish it had just been revoked." Casey spat, shifting her head off of Alex's shoulder, and Alex missed the feeling the second she left. Casey seemed anguished rather than angry, a sense of strange urgency in her tone as she spoke, and Alex knew she wouldn't be able to cut her off again.

"I'm- ... a failure in every regard." She bit, jabs only at herself, and Alex felt the tears bubble behind her eyes again. She didn't realize she had stopped crying until the burn and sting of liquid falling from her face was once again registered.

"I know that ... all I am is disgrace to the practice of law- if not, if not- ... I'll never be able to step foot in a courtroom again, thinking- deluding- that I could, that I can- I can't protect anyone. And I wasted my life being naive and reckless, thinking I could- I don't know. Thinking I could ever make a difference."

Alex swallowed and shook her head, feeling her eyebrows furrow as she turned to face Casey despairingly, imploringly, as though begging her to see reason.

"So you're going to waste your life by- by rooftops and heroin?" She swallowed again, feeling her mouth dry, because she couldn't bolster the energy to form a rebuttal for every self-deprecation Casey had just uttered, and it seemed like the faux blonde wouldn't be at all perceptive to that, anyway. Not with this dead, void-like tone she was using, as though the energy of life had since already been poured out.

"Diladuid." Casey corrected, a mirthless chuckle, her eyes flickering back to the sleeve Alex had rolled up, the red and purple devastations left by her bender, and she grimaced before reaching to tug the fabric back down.

"and- it looks that way, doesn't it?"

Casey opened her mouth to continue Alex couldn't stop herself from yanking Casey's head into her collar, gripping the sides of her face so tightly she was sure it must hurt, and Casey fell awkwardly forward into her.

"Stop," She choked, "Stop."

She couldn't stop her brain from generating unhelpful images of Casey falling, faux CCTV footage of her woman plummetting the way Alex had seen in videos of other jumpers she'd had to review to rule out homicide. Her brain kept freezing right before the impact, then starting from the top again, Casey'd body stuck in a loop of falling as Alex's anxiety mounted.

But Casey didn't stop, though. "I knew from the start- that job could only, could only ever break me," she muttered, rambling as though she could halt the words tumbling hazardous from her mouth, even as Alex's hand grappled to force her jaw shut, "I told Branch- I told him, the second after that little girl in the ice chest, I knew- I knew I wasn't, I would- I'd fuck it all up and I did, and I don't deserve to live after my stupidity-"

"No," Alex said forcefully, a heaved sob, and Casey finally shut her mouth. Alex had never had to raise her tone at her before, Casey had always been eager to please by hushing on request.

"I, I don't-" Alex tried desperately to spit words she couldn't find, nothing formulating inside of her head other that same frantic energy consuming her body, struggling to crush Casey's frame against her own as if merging their skin would ensure Casey would stay. "I can't-"

She couldn't have a panic attack, not right now, but she couldn't breathe properly, mind consumed with images of Casey's face photoshopped on the body of jumpers she'd dealt with before. She had known victims that had commit suicide, occasionally a perpetrator had commit in or out of lock up too. It was real and it had made her go crazy with grief then- her mind flashed back to a boy comatose in a hospital and a mother's spittle aimed at her as she screamed- what the hell was she supposed to do now?

Casey with her skull cracked open, jade eyes unseeing, staring at her with only vacancy behind them. Casey's lips parted slightly, the side of her face ripped open from the impact on rough concrete, or maybe a car. Alex couldn't breathe, couldn't gasp no matter how hard she tried, and she wasn't sure if she was still crying, she wasn't sure about anything about herself anymore because the only thing she was focusing on was the feeling of Casey's body pressing into the side of her's.

After Casey's first attempt to hold her had been snubbed, she hadn't tried again to hold Alex, and now she was simply resting herself loosely as Alex tried her best to wrangle the younger woman into her, begging for the contact of fabric on fabric wherever possibly, resting her chin on Casey's hairline so she couldn't see her face.

"I'm sorry," Alex's body was wracked with tremors, "I'm so sorry, but please don't leave me. Don't do this to me, Casey, I need you."

Casey said nothing, and did nothing. The indication she was alive was the quickened rise and fall of her chest Alex could feel with her torso pressed against her own- in Alex's panicked wrestling, She had ended up barely sitting, Casey sprawled out across her body, Casey's hips between Alex's thighs.

"Don't ever try that again," Alex tried instead, "Never, ever. I'll- I'll," but she didn't know how to argue Casey into the will to live, couldn't threaten her into staying, but God she really wanted to try too.

But she must be hurting her, or at the very least suffocating her, so she released the clawed grip she had, and was mildly content when Casey only shifting her head to the side so she could breathe and otherwise kept herself flush against Alex's form.

Alex couldn't stop her chest from heaving, could only stop the shivers when she cupped Casey's jaw in her hands, thumb on her neck, and focused on the feeling of her pulse faintly thrumming underneath her skin.

"But you're still here," She murmured, wiping at her own face with more vigor than she initially intended too, bartering, "You're still here."

"When, when he got- he got called back in to work, and I- he told me, I could decide between the hospital or- or someone I trusted when he realized how- ... fucked I was. He knew better than to leave me alone."

"And you trust me," Alex advantaged herself with that, desperately clinging onto that like a lifeline, something to hold herself stable with, "You trust me. Trusted to come here. Trust me to foster you back, Casey, this isn't you, this isn't how you are. This isn't who you are."

Casey did not respond.

Alex calmed down enough to realize the front of her shirt was soaked through- the younger woman was crying, had been crying.

"I'm sorry," Casey's voice said faintly into her body, "I ... I hate that I'm hurting you."

"Hurt me," Alex whispered, her voice raw and hoarse, and it sounded like a demand. She found Casey's hand and intertwined their fingers, "Anything, you can do anything with me, but please just stay."

[polyamorousmood]

I feel like I'm inclined toward, not fully open relationships per se, but closed small group poly if that makes sense. But the thing is I'm still a virign in terms of penetrative sex and I can't see how someone in my situation can be with multiple people at once because how would I even choose which one to let fuck me first. Also, I'm a bi woman and have internalized the idea that my first time with a man has to happen before my first time with a woman because if it happened the other way around I'd be betraying the Sapphic community by straying for men. And on top of that I can't do no strings attached sex (on some level I'd argue no such thing truly exists, that the act itself comes with strings by design) or one night stands. I've tried, and it's never ended well even though I want to be able to be fun enough to be worth being with in a world where refusing early sexual contact gets me written off as incompatible by the vast majority of people outside who align with my core political and social values. So that brings another problem I need, if not a relationship, at least a very strong friendship and basis of trust and comfort to sleep with someone, which is also antithetical to the way things work in the real world past high school. And I can't fathom the thought of being penetrated by a circumcised penis due to past attempts being really awful and failing and being blamed for that failure and me not being willing to risk that ever happening again. In theory I'd blow a guy who was circumcised but I'm too afraid of being forced to go further than that so I'd rather not even be in any kind of sexual situation with them. And like I want to believe that there's some circumcised guy out there who would be willing to prove me wrong but I can't see that happening so despite living in a state where like 85% of the male population is circumcised and the majority that aren't being notably younger I find myself trying to look for a man with whom I a share core values, shared interests and mutual romantic and sexual attraction and who is uncircumcised and not so big that I can't imagine it not hurting and who is okay with not having sexual intercourse right away and who will provide a comfortable and good experience for my first time (setting aside the inherent awkwardness of a first time) and who will stick with me allowing me to learn from practice together rather than abandoning me for not being perfect in the bedroom from the get go as is so often expected once your past a certain age (I'm at an age where it's assumed you've had sex before so nobody bothers asking and I'm never sure when to bring it up) so that I can share that with him and then I plan to eventually ask to open things up. Initially just to pursue my feelings toward other women but after some time I would consider asking if it'd be okay for me to add other men to our polycule as well but the trouble is I can't seem to find the right first man. Any advice?

Yeah, so uh. Basically?

You made up most of those rules. You don't have to follow them.

I am sympathetic to the nature of trauma, and of anxieties. It is because of my sympathy that I think it is a bad idea to default to capitulating to them.

Put more plainly, you complicate your life unnecessarily by letting your worst thoughts dictate your actions.

Any one of these considerations would be reasonable enough. We all do this on ocassion, and we are right to do so! Not everything is worth the mental struggle of untangling. Having said that. You clearly have so many untangled thought patterns and habits that it's interfering significantly with your life which means it's time to roll up your sleeves and sit down with at least one of these wads of Christmas lights🎄🧶, metaphorically speaking.

I don't care which one you start with, but it seems to me the easiest would be your point about *checks notes📝* dating a man first so you aren't betraying saphics? Did I get that right?

If you'll allow me to be blunt, you already characterized this thought as a stupid one. So why are you still planning on following it❓️❓️ Sweetheart. You know this. You know that's a thought we think and go "well the medallion says that's stupid so we're not gonna do that" [<-reference you don't need to get]. But here you are, planning your whole life around it? What the fuck are we doing here, lady? Leave that shit on the side of the road where it belongs! Your honorable sanitation worker will dispose of that trash if you just leave it outside and ignore it long enough, my good bitch (affectionate).

You could work on the other stuff too. Trauma is a mess, and I respect due caution⚠️ with the dating world. But it is... just sad to me you're willing to write off 70% of men for a feature they cannot change. That's probably a lot more to unpack, and I am not qualified to give that intensive mental health advise. But, man, I would understand if a fella were a little hurt. 🫤

Massive pivot incoming

But I think you were posting asking for advice on how to get into relationship(s) like what you specified. And like, if you're not going to put some work into the above, then I suppose my advice would be to try to 🦄Unicorn🦄? If you're not in the know, that means (roughly) that you become the "third" for an established couple👫. I'm given to understand bisexuality women are very popular in this niche. It has its own pitfalls, but you wouldn't have to worry about the order if you were dating them both, for one. It also might help some of your anxiety around men to have a woman that's vouching for him. And like. Those that are seeking a relationship (and not just a casual sex) would, I assume, be willing to wait a bit without a whole lot of hullabaloo since they can still fuck each other in the meanwhile. 🤷‍♀️ It's good practice during these to discuss what sex would look like ahead of time anyway, so that would be a natural time to bring up... all of what you wrote. [EDIT: I don't think the matter of who to fuck first would be an issue. Sleep with the man first since you said that's what you want. They're not going to take offense, and if they are, they will be very upfront about it]

Aside from that, I think your only option would be to befriend a lot of men🧍‍♂️👨‍🦱👨🧍‍♂️👨‍🦳👨‍🍼, ask weirdly specific questions about their genitals🤔 until you find one that seems suitable, and start angling for a friends-to-lovers situation.

Or, oh here's a novel one, get you a guy who's into bandage🪢➰️ and tease/denial! Then you'll control everything sexually and he won't be bothered! Win-win! Have you tried FetLife? (Light-hearted... but only half joking)

Also, everyone's mileage will vary, but I have found men wanting a relationship with you are willing to sort through sexual stuff with you. I'd take the time to get to know someone first, make sure you're both a little invested. The ones who care about sexual stuff so much they'd "abandon" you... probably wasn't serious about the relationship (not to say a guy's never gotten serious after getting invested at least partially through sex).

whatever you decide to do, good luck out there, friend.🍀🍀