#currently reporting from my family’s house

[moshaeu]

HAPPY BRITHDYA TO 🌱🌱🌱

[steviescrystals]

MY LIFE IS NOT REAL WHAT IS GOING ON

[fleuraliasave]

*OUTDATED NEW VERSION AVAILABLE HERE*

❤ Version 7.0 Fleuralia Save File ❤

Download link down below (please read entire post before installing)

This save file uses all EP’s, GP’s (not Journey to Batuu), SP’s and most of the kits (Country Kitchen, Blooming Rooms, Incheon Arrivals, Retro Fit, Industrial loft, Moonlight Chic, Little Campers, Pastel Pop, Everyday Clutter, Bathroom Clutter, Simtimates Collection, First Fits, Desert Luxe, Modern Luxe, Poolside Splash, Book Nook, Basement treasures, Greenhouse Haven, Pastel Pop and Bust the Dust).

What’s new in this update?:

Chestnut Ridge and Tomarang have been completely redone, added multiple new lots, updated other lots and provided make-overs for the households.

Added new households (when living in world; with jobs, friends, preferences etc).

Added rental lots in multiple other worlds outside of Tomarang (Brindleton Bay, Henford-on-Bagley, Britechester and more).

Spooky Fall Festival has been moved to Chestnut Ridge (bigger with haunted house ride). The old lot in Brindleton Bay has been changed into a cemetery.

Current Status of Worlds:

Finished worlds: Willow Creek, Oasis Springs, Newcrest, Magnolia Promenade, Windenburg, San Myshuno, Forgotten Hollow, Brindleton Bay, Del Sol Valley, StrangerVille, Glimmerbrook, Sulani, Britechester , Evergreen Harbor, Mt. Komorebi, Henford-on-Bagley, Tartosa, Moonwood Mill, Copperdale, San Sequoia, Chestnut Ridge (NEW!) and Tomarang (NEW!).

Finished vacation worlds: Granite Falls and Selvadorada.

Finihed other lots: Hospital, Science Lab and the Police Station.

To be updated: the Magic Realm, will either be included in a future update or on the gallery (OriginID: fleuralia)

What do you get with this save?:

For my save file all lots are either completely new builds (almost all) or renovations, ofcourse created by me. Exceptions: I have added the official builds for the releases of the Paranormal SP by Dr Ashley and the Dream Home Decorator GP by Deligracy to this save, since I thought they deserved a spot. These two are therefore not my own creations, credits are given in the description to Dr Ashley and Deligracy. Mt. Komorebi, Henford-on-Bagley, Tartosa, Moonwood Mill, Copperdale, San Sequoia and Chestnut Ridge lots are largely created by GameChangers. Most lots have gotten smaller updates, others are completely new builds by me.

All the townies had make-overs plus I added new families to spice it up a bit. Some of the townies are made by other creators, who are given credits in the description of the household. All the townies in the different worlds have a story, some include sentiments and adjusted relationships to the story.

Added plenty of community lots to give your Sims something to do (YAY!). Almost every world has one restaurant, but it also includes festivals that represent the four seasons (park lots) and a fully functional shopping street in Magnolia Promenade (toy store, bridal store and more).

I have added rental lots so you can go on vacation in more worlds. For example in Sulani, Willow Creek and Windenburg.

Other details:

As mentioned at the beginning, this save uses almost all packs (except Journey to Batuu and some kits). This means that if you download it without owning or installing most of the packs a lot of objects will disappear from the save, but if you are not bothered by this you can still download and play in it.  

I disabled the autonomous fame gain and neigborhood action plan voting/environmental changes, you enable them again in the pack settings menu.

I would love to add some households in this save created by all of you! Add your household under the hashtag #fleuraliatownies in The Sims 4 Gallery, you can add a storyline and world in the description but thats not obligatory. If I respond on your creation it means that I have incorporated it in the save for the next update.

Sadly every game update comes with a lot of bugs. I suggest before reporting problems in the save to me, to check on forums if its related to a general bug/glitch or to mods (if you use them).

Questions and supportive feedback are always welcome, you can reach me here via a comment on this post, an ask or through a DM 😁

How to make it work in your game:

Download the save file from the link below.

Drag it in your saves folder under: PC/Documents/Electronic Arts/The Sims 4/saves.

Change the numbers if you already have a save with the same name.

It should now show up in your game as: Fleuralia Save Version 7.0.

DOWNLOAD (SFS) / Alternate (GD)

!!Don’t re-upload or claim as your own!!

Future updates will follow after each pack release (if it includes a world). The time the update will be uploaded after each release depends on how much I have to change and on my work schedule around that time.

Last but not least, enjoy and till next time! XX

Fleuralia

Feel free to support me ❤️: Ko-fi account

[violetlichen]

nobody puts my bald baby in a corner

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen / Named Atreides wife A little nsfw but that's not the point. Domestic family life. They have five kids and Feyd desperately wants another. Wifey won't oblige. Don't pay attention to the other characters and Houses I included, I don't know anything about Dune and I just pulled from the fandom wiki or made them up. Their son is not the Kwisatz Haderach either!

****if you're somebody who works at tumblr hq reading this because i accidentally reported my own fic im really sorry****

It has been five years since Feyd-Rautha last saw his wife swell with his child.

It is entirely by her design, and certainly not for lack of trying. He ravages her senseless almost every night, but after five children, the ever infuriating Diana Atreides refuses to give him another. As a Bene Gesserit, it is within her power to do so; the witches are able to bend their own reproduction to their will, and Feyd-Rautha believes she likes his methods of convincing her too much to give him what he wants.

Tonight, he almost has her hooked. He kisses her knee and up her bare thigh, licking and sucking the plush skin there. She barely acknowledges him and lets him fondle her as he pleases, lost in her own thoughts. 

“She’s too old for him. He’s just a boy.”

They are currently hosting several of the Great Houses. Earlier at dinner, he and Diana were approached by the Duke of Ginaz, who suggested they betroth his daughter to their oldest son, Aleksei. Diana had hidden her frown behind her glass of wine, but Feyd-Rautha had seen it and filed it away for later, thanking the Duke for his time.

He hums against her thigh, tongueing over the faint bruise he made. He can use this.

“He will be a man soon,” he reminds her. He pulls her leg over his shoulder as he shifts up the bed, now eye level with her weeping cunt. His mouth waters. “Even if we refuse this proposal, there will be others.”

He knows his wife wants to say more, but the words die in her throat when he shoves his nose against her, inhaling her scent and releasing a shaky breath. He pretends it is for her benefit, but really, this is all for him. With his fingers pulling apart the seam of her, his tongue lolls out, and Feyd-Rautha feasts. 

When he has had his fill of her pleasure, he crawls up the length of her body. She pants underneath him, back arching and eyes squeezing shut like a satisfied cat, her neck exposed and vulnerable. He licks off the sweat there.

“It will not stop with Aleksei,” he says, leaning over her.

Diana scowls. She shoves him, but he does not yield. He grasps her hand, pulling it away from his chest and up to his mouth, where he kisses her fingers.

He knows he is being cruel, rubbing salt in her wound. Her children are growing. At twelve years old, Aleksei is admittedly still too young to seriously consider for marriage, but the coming years will go by in a blink. First it will be Aleksei, then Nikita shortly after, and then Maxim – although their youngest and most unstable son will be difficult to pawn off, Feyd-Rautha thinks. 

His girls are another story. Sasha and Grisha were both gifted their mother’s beauty, but it is Grisha, their youngest, who takes after Feyd-Rautha the most. She is the only one of his children who did not inherit those dark Atreides curls. She is perfect; wholly Harkonnen, like her father. He knows he will feel how Diana does now when it is time for Grisha to leave his side.

It is why he fucks into his wife now, flexing his hips slowly and purposefully, so she feels every inch of his longing. He staves off the urge to empty himself inside of her prematurely, already aching to see her breasts swollen and leaking. 

He stops, trying to catch his breath. He pulls back from Diana to thumb over her pearl, grinding his length into her. “Shall I leave you like this, wife?” he asks her.

“Don’t you dare,” she snaps, her hips chasing his fingers.

“I can give you what you want,” he taunts. “I will pump you full of my children happily. What is one more?”

Diana does not answer, but he sees her breaking, just as he is. He holds her legs open, jutting into the apex of them, growling as he stares her down, willing her to change her mind. She hides her fears behind her pleasure, hides the tear sliding down her cheek by turning her face into the pillow, taking what he gives her.

What is one more child? Certainly not the solution to her problem. It is only a delay of the inevitable, that one day they will all grow up and no longer need her. Feyd-Rautha knows this. But he hopes to delay his wife’s suffering, just as he will delay her gratification if she does not give him what he wants.

When he pumps his load into her, he knows she is not satisfied. He breathes through his own satisfaction, nose flaring like a bull, but she does not complain like he expected her to. She does not roll him over to claim him, or bring her fingers to her cunt to finish what he started, his eyes on her hole, full of his spend.

Instead she buries her face in her hands. Feyd-Rautha leans his weight onto her and pulls her hands away, revealing her face to him. She blinks at him, her lashes wet and clumping together.

He knows what she is feeling. “I feel it, too,” he says. “Let me give you another, my darling.”

Diana nods and looks away, breathing out a held breath. “Alright,” she says. Her eyes soften fondly when they focus on him again. “Alright.”

They lay together for a while, enjoying each other’s company. Feyd-Rautha does not know if tonight will be the night, but he hopes. He hopes she sees it the way he does -- a continuation of their happiness, not the eventual ending of it. He kisses every part of Diana he can reach, and she cuddles into him, their limbs a tangled mess. 

A little later into the night, a knock on the door breaks their comfortable silence. Feyd-Rautha grunts, already irritated, and removes himself from her, slipping on a robe and his pants.

When he opens the door, he finds a wide-eyed servant. “It is the children, Baron Harkonnen.”

Feyd-Rautha frowns and widens the door, panic souring him. “Where are they?”

“They are safe, Baron Harkonnen, but there has been a bit of trouble.”

Diana appears behind him, wrapping her robe around her waist. "What sort of trouble?" she asks, brow furrowed.

“It will be best if you follow me to the drawing room within the guest wing, Baroness.”

Diana whips past Feyd-Rautha and the servant, not waiting for either of them to lead her to the guest wing. Feyd-Rautha follows after her, and he knows to expect his boys. It is not the first time he was awoken by something they have done when they should have been sleeping, but it does concern him that they were found in the guest wing.

Although he is the youngest son, Maxim is the instigator of all things. Not as bright as the others, he is aggressive and impulsive, often letting his hands speak for him. He acts before he thinks, and it frustrates Diana greatly. Many nights Feyd-Rautha has been brought before Maxim in the kitchens, where he sticks his grubby hands into pies and picks at berries meant for the morning’s breakfast. The guards know not to let him out of his room at night without their explicit permission.

But as explosive as Maxim is, it is Aleksei who reminds Feyd-Rautha the most of his own brother, Beast Rabban. His oldest son is proud and quick to anger, easily riled by Maxim and his sisters who poke and prod at him in the ways only younger siblings can. Feyd-Rautha does his best to temper Aleksei, to show him the value in patience, in choosing his battles.

Nikita, self-sufficient boy that he is, waits until the battles are over and won to pick at what remains. He watches. Feyd-Rautha suspects Diana favors him over the others, though she will never admit it. 

All of them dote on their sisters. Sasha has them carry her around on their backs, even when they are tired and sore and agitated from their training. They still treat Grisha like she is their baby, although she is almost six years old now and loathes the comparison. 

Each of them, in their own ways, bring honor to their House. It is not something he had ever imagined for himself when thinking about his future. Feyd-Rautha is proud of his children, and he would not be disinclined to have another.

The chaos they find upon entering the drawing room is enough for him to change his mind.

The lord and lady from Zanbar, whose names Feyd-Rautha has forgotten, fawn over their young daughter, who sits upon an ottoman in front of the fireplace, her face red and streaked with tears. She cries as she pulls at what remains of her blonde hair. It has been crudely chopped off, the ends blunt and jagged like it had been sawed with a knife.

Their boys stand sullenly in front of the governess, disheveled in her bathrobe and still flustered from being awoken in the middle of the night to collect them. Aleksei folds his arms over his chest, his head full of curly dark hair held high. Next to him, Nikita remains calm in the face of their impending scolding. He very likely had done nothing wrong but bear witness to the antics of his rowdy brothers. Meanwhile, Maxim openly glares at the small weeping girl. She deserved what she got, and he is waiting for a reason to give her more to cry over.

“What happened?” Diana asks, dismayed.

“Your sons snuck into my daughter’s bedchamber and cut her hair off while she slept!” the lord’s wife snaps, borderline hysterical. “Where were her guards? How was this allowed to happen?”

She is reaching an unnatural decibel, but withers under the glare Feyd-Rautha shoots her. They were pulled from their bed for this? His darkening expression does not fully quell the lady's anger, and she gawks at her husband, willing him to say something.

"I'm sure there's an explanation," the lord offers unhelpfully, averting his timid gaze.

Diana stills, taking in the sight of the poor girl’s hacked hair. With a deep inhale, she turns to the boys, her hand finding her hip. “Explain yourselves.”

“She was mocking Grisha, mother,” Maxim says, scowling. “We heard her at dinner.”

Aleksei nods, more self-righteous and refined in his anger. “She laughed at Grisha and made her cry because she doesn’t have hair.” He sneers when the lord’s daughter wails a little louder at this, because she, too, does not have hair now. “She called her ugly.”

Diana looks heartbroken over this, but her Bene Gesserit training helps to quickly neutralize her face. She looks to Nikita. “And you? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I told them not to.”

Feyd-Rautha believes him. Nikita is no less ruthless, but he is also a diplomat by nature, preferring more uninvolved methods of justice or revenge. This boldness is certainly the work of his brothers.

Feyd-Rautha cannot wait to reward them handsomely for it.

Diana believes Nikita as well, for she turns back to the other two. “Apologize to Lady Rosalind.”

“But mother, she–”

“Enough,” Feyd-Rautha rasps, growing tired of the spectacle. “Do as your mother says, so we may all retire to our beds.” He shoots another glare at the lord and lady, who bluster under his attention, too afraid of him to protest again.

Aleksei and Maxim step forward and bow to the young girl. “We’re sorry,” they echo, not meaning it at all.

Knowing that is the best she will get from them, Diana exhales deeply and dismisses them back to their rooms, escorted by their governess to make sure they get there and do not take any more detours. Nikita follows, ever their solemn shadow. 

Diana kneels down beside Lady Rosalind. “Don’t fret. Hair grows back,” she soothes. The girl hiccups, and Diana gently brushes the hair out of her eyes before standing up to face her parents again. “I apologize on behalf of my sons. As you can see, they love their sister very much and do not take kindly to those who upset her.”

The lord and lady of Zanbar try to hide their grimaces. They know their indignancy is unfounded now that they know their daughter had started this. “Baroness, I must apologize–” the lord starts.

“That won’t be necessary,” Diana interrupts, putting a graceful hand up to stop him. “Let’s put this unpleasantness behind us. My husband and I will question our guards to understand how this was allowed to happen. Those responsible will be thoroughly punished.” She looks at Feyd-Rautha. “That includes our sons.”

This seems to satisfy the lord and lady enough to gather up their snot nosed daughter and leave, perhaps vowing to never step foot on Giedi Prime again. Feyd-Rautha will not miss them.

He and Diana walk back to their bedchamber in an agitated silence, until she breaks it.

“Still want another?” she asks him, deadpan.

“Not particularly. Would you still like me to thoroughly punish them?”

“Not particularly.”

Feyd-Rautha hums, and he reaches for her hand. 

The next morning, Feyd-Rautha walks over to Grisha where she sits on the wide stone fence, her little legs dangling over the side. The boys train in the yard, and she watches with her dolls, acting out the sparring techniques she sees with them. He kisses her head, smooth like his. She ignores him, too caught up in supervising the training of her dolls.

Feyd-Rautha smiles. “Who is winning?” he asks.

One of the dolls headbutts the other. Their yarn-like hair swings around violently. It is hard to tell under the light of the black sun, but he thinks one of them is blonde. That one plops to the ground, landing in the sand.

Grisha raises the hand of the victorious doll the way she sees her father raise his in the arena. “This one,” she tells him.

“Well fought,” Feyd-Rautha says proudly. He bends down to pick up the doll and hands it to her. He watches her run her fingers through the doll’s hair, brushing the sand out of it with great care.

One day, his daughter will train alongside her brothers. She will have no need for hair then. It would just get in her way, and make her easier to grab by her opponents. She will see the use in this, and appreciate what makes her Harkonnen.

For now, Feyd-Rautha cups her head and kisses her again. He calls her his beautiful girl, and returns to the yard, picking up where he and the boys left off.

[mosabeldali]

Where is Duha Talat?

The 8-year-old girl was reportedly taken by the Israeli military near Rafah crossing in late July 2024. A now-deleted Instagram post by Ido Zahar, a soldier from Israel's 432nd Tzabar Battalion, showed him with a girl in Gaza, believed to be Duha. A soldier, anonymized as "1," recounted that during a raid near the Rafah crossing, an elderly man came out from a house with an 8 year old firl and offered to reveal tunnel shafts, which turned out to be sewer shafts. Accused by Shin Bet of H*mas ties, the man was detained and taken. Duha, separated from her only family, was handed over to other soldiers; her current whereabouts still remain unknown. Reports indicate hundreds of children are missing in Gaza, raising further concerns about their fate in the hands of occupation soldiers.

Source: Palestinian Journalist Younis Tirawi

‼️ Your help, no matter how small, could be the turning point for my family. Join me in rebuilding our lives ‼️

[lenasai]

this week, i'm spotlighting the campaign of mahmoud qaddoha, a journalist trying to escape with his family of 25 people, all of which are currently living in tents.

in his own words:

Over the past 6 months, I have dedicated myself to reporting on the dire situation in the central Gaza Strip, risking my life every day to highlight the harsh reality our community faces. I have been actively involved in relief efforts, putting the needs of our people above my own. I have decided to launch a personal fundraising campaign dedicated to helping my family who have lost everything due to my profession. The Israeli forces contacted me directly and threatened me, then they bombed my family’s home and I built this house with our blood and sweat, and 7 members of my family were martyred (my brother, his two daughters, his son, my other brother’s wife, and 2 of his sons). Now, my family of more than 25 people finds themselves living in tents. Therefore, I am launching this campaign to seek help for myself and my family during these difficult times.

mahmoud has been fundraising since the end of march and has so far raised €7,342 of his €100,000 goal. i have donated €10 and hope you will consider matching my donation.

ID: Screenshot confirming €10 donation to the above fundraiser. End ID.

this fundraiser has been featured on the @gazafunds website and i have full confidence in its legitimacy. to my knowledge, mahmoud does not have a tumblr account.

if you cannot donate, please share this post so others who may have the means to donate can see this campaign!

[gluion]

takes me back home ➵ leehan

leehan x reader

over the years, you’ve learned what it takes to build a home and lost it, but leehan brings back the familiar feeling you’ve longed for since you moved.

genre/warnings ➵ fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers, found family, little to no dialogue, constant discussions and descriptions of what a home is, an accident almost happens

word count ➵ 977 words

inspired by ➵ "takes me back home" by wasia project, that one scene in lovely runner

a/n ➵ my irl talked about how her perspective on relationships changed and how she could finally envision a future with her current s/o and i thought that was the sweetest thing to hear :') she won't see this but i'm glad she finds a home with her partner. if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog and leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

the first time you understood what warmth is happened at the age of five, when you scraped your knee against the stone path in the park—no, not the warmth of a fire or colors under it, but the warmth of a hug. as you wailed over the pain, you remembered the arms that enveloped you in an embrace, their hand rubbing against your back to comfort you through the sting of betadine hitting against your wound.

the heat of the summer sun couldn’t compare to the comfort of the hug of your parent.

when you first learned the concept of safety happened at the age of seven, lost in the sea of people who traveled around the mall. you don’t forget the worry that took over your parents’ expressions; furrowed eyebrows and trembled lips as they spot you with tears streaming down your face. regardless of their scolding, you hear their relief in between the lines—we thank the universe for letting us find you.

safety never resounded as much as it did then.

it happened at the age of fourteen that you first heard of resilience. when school got harder and you were met with numbers that didn’t meet your standard, you didn’t know how to translate your efforts into results. countless nights were spent worrying about your unfolding future.

but it hit you on a tuesday night, the day you received your first failing mark, that you’ve only met a fraction of the troubles life has yet to bring towards you—you’ve only met a fraction of the troubles life has yet to bring towards you, and that’s beautiful for there is more to your existence than the numbers on your report card.

and on that same night, you learned about tenderness as your parents stuck with you through tears and blabbers of apologies for your failures. still, they only wanted to know what they could do to better support you.

then, you moved out of your childhood home at the age of eighteen, bidding farewell to a house filled with people who taught you everything that allowed you to continue on.

with the distance, you’ve grown familiar with loneliness—and you never knew how cold it was. how dangerous it almost feels trudging it all on your own. how vulnerable you are to every hardship. how callous every interaction feels.

you almost think you’ve lost your home, and you think it's selfish to miss it when all you do is for your parents who built your home and a foundation for your future. so with every night, you’d repeat endure until you grew numb.

but before you could put the last brick in its place, building an impenetrable wall, someone passed by, and you can’t help but halt the construction.

the first thing you encountered is his smile—it wasn’t even a smile directed to you, but it was one that lingered as he met your eyes for the first time. the thumping of your heartbeat filled your ears as heat rose to your cheeks, and you did your best to pretend the interaction never happened. until you heard someone clearing their throat, only to see that the boy continued to grin at you before telling you his name—leehan.

his smile, his voice, and his name; the same warm embrace at the age of five.

it happened on a random night when leehan tugged you back from crossing the street. you weren't thinking straight, clearly ridden by exhaustion from the nights spent studying, and your brain couldn't process the headlights coming from your side. his worried eyes accompanied his hands on your shoulders, assessing you for any damage or any sign to explain your inattentiveness.

he didn’t think twice about reaching out to your face, rubbing his thumb against the expanse of your cheek as he whispers, “what am i gonna do with you? are you okay? are you hurt? let’s bring you to the hospital.”

not a single scratch or worry; what a privilege it is to experience safety away from home.

but as expected, life never got easier as you grew older.

you were always met with defeat, struggling to make sense of the complex topics in a college you cried to get in. at one point, it started to look like you weren’t going to make it out alive.

it was easy for guilt to consume you, allowing you to drift away into the sea as you drowned. what type of child would you be if you couldn't receive a diploma that you worked hard for? a future that your parents shed blood, sweat, and tears for?

you didn’t bother to fling your hands out of the ocean, but leehan didn’t think twice to dive and pull you out.

leehan found you with tears spilling out of your eyes; it was the first time you ever allowed someone outside of your home to see you cry.

you thought the sight of you was repulsive—he’ll leave you for he isn’t obligated to care for you—and you think once more about the supposed impenetrable wall that still lacks one brick.

so, you reach out to it, ready to place it in its spot, until leehan grabs on it to stop you.

that night, leehan held you close, allowing you to sob into the crook of his neck, and he tells you to pour out all your worries into him—just because you learned to endure doesn't mean you need to go through it alone.

in the morning, you expected to be greeted by the empty side of the bed, meeting with loneliness once more.

instead, it’s leehan’s sleepy face that you wake up to, his quiet snores reaching your ears.

maybe home doesn’t have to be the childhood house that you left at the age of eighteen—it can be leehan if you allow him to be that for you.

taglist ➵ @onedoornet @kflixnet @blankjournal @heebees @0310s

[sp0-t]

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋

PoliceForce!141 x VictimsPartner!Reader

warnings - murder(er), descriptions of a crime scene, blood, not really gore, loss of a loved one.

summary - the investigation of an arising serial killer has every civilian on their toes, however it has a whole police precinct in even more of an erratic frenzy. The police force assigned to the job get the call that yet another body has been found, most likely another victim of the recent killer. The body count is high, but the tensions are even higher…

💿 (a/n) - it’s finally here!! Long awaited first post of this most likely very long ongoing series. The reader doesn’t really come out in this part but bear with me they will be out in the next! I hope you will stick around for future parts and other works in general. If you’re new to my page or this story in general, Hi! Welcome! If you’ve been following along with my updates and my page, thank you for sticking around! And I look forward to seeing you! Most importantly I hope you all enjoy and stick around some more!

prologue/ ➤ part one / part ???

2… 3… 5… 8…? How many would you leave this time, you didn’t know. You were on 10 now, how many did it take till you got bored of this one too? This one wasn’t as fun, this one didn’t put up a fight, this one took all the fun out of it. It was too easy honestly, it made you bored, easily. You stopped yourself at 23, sighing as you stood up.

You walked over to the trash can lazily taking off your gloves, making sure to engulf the knife in both gloves before begrudgingly tossing it into the tiny metal tin trash can. The metal bang rang through the small office space as you walked to the door. You pull out a cloth from your pocket before turning the doorknob and heading out the door.

“What was his name again?”

The sound of stretching as he pulls the blue latex gloves over his hands quickly dissipates while approaching the house's front door.

“Darren Boyle, he’s some rich big-time director of a construction company.”

“…Is there a reason you’re telling me this man’s finances?”

“Yeah, actually…”

The EMT halts her walking and hands the report to him

“Nothing was taken from the home, no money, no belongings, nothing.”

He takes the report and looks it over.

“Yet he still has 23 knife wounds all over his body”

The walk to the office space was short and brief, with multiple people at the crime scene, and multiple things happening all at once. The flash of the camera, the sound of plastic evidence bags, and the smell… that smell, that concoction of iron and decay that permanently scars the nose with its presence alone.

The rest of the force was already present at the scene littered around, each doing different tasks.

Officer Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, is probably the smartest in the entire county. From someone who started as a mere medical student, that ended up not being able to bear the weight of being the cause of a lost human life, went to become someone who brought “life” and justice to the lost and their families. He is the forensics specialist of the team, offering his smarts and intuition to the force. Gaz can pronounce the cause of death by a simple examination of the body, as well as match DNA evidence to a perpetrator, blood, fingerprints, spit, etc.

Officer Johnny “Soap” McTavish, investigator as well as one of the best interrogators, right behind Officer Riley. Soap used to be a big-time private investigator sometimes, often, closing cases faster than the police department itself. This eventually led to the police department trying to recruit, and find, Soap to their forces for his high investigator talent, which landed him with the force, after a very eventful high-speed chase…

Officer Simon “Ghost” Riley, aka. death reincarnated. Was discovered from his time as a mercenary, and would finish any job no matter the morals or ethics involved. The blood from his past haunted him, when he retired from his brutal position, he discovered his now-current sheriff. Who heard his story and convinced Ghost to come out of his early retirement and become a detective. Ghost took this offensively at first, seeing the offered position as some type of “downgrade”. He ended up convinced into the position and is now one of the most well-known detectives in the nation.

That leaves the sheriff…

“Sheriff Price. It’s been a while, although I’d prefer if we didn’t have to meet under these circumstances.”

“Laswell, always good to see a familiar face. Although I'd have to agree, these circumstances aren't exactly.. ideal.”

“A killer in your part of the city. A serial.. killer.”

She says the last part while narrowing her eyes behind her shoulder at the now dead body

“So”

She says with her head still facing the body

“Whats your plan.”

It wasn’t a question.. it was a demand

She turns her head, her frustrated look now landing on the sheriff.

“To catch this prick.”

They both made heavy eye contact with each other. Trying to square up the other with their looks alone, the tension rising. that is until they are interrupted

“Sheriff! You have to see this.”

A shout from Gaz, across the home office. Price’s attention immediately being stripped away from Laswell and reattaching to his officer

Gaz stands from his crouched position near the victim’s desk, the Sheriff joining his side to glance at what he had found. In Gaz’s hands was a piece of paper, one that had been splattered in blood, It wasn’t just paper, it was a note.

… a note for the Sheriff

written by: @sp0-t ©️

[lovexjoe]

PENPALS Part 3

Your dad was suppose to be home 4 days ago with Uncle Mike but they are no where to be found. You were currently leaving the hospital when the news report caught your attention.. WANTED FUGITIVES? It broke your heart knowing Captain passed the way he did. Your dad gave you the phone call and you couldn’t even make it to the funeral due to your exams and clinicals. You knew it wasn’t true at all, someone had to be framing them.

But who is that other person with them? You knew Mike had a son but you never knew any details beyond that. They were broadcasting names and pictures on the tv. Uncle Mike popped up first. Your phone interrupted everything and you decided to just step outside because it was quiet hours in the hospital. You picked up the phone and nearly cried.

“Hey baby, yes I’m okay, but I need you to go to Dorn’s house. We got some injuries we need some help with.” Your heart felt whole again to hear your dad’s voice.

“Okay I’ll be right there.” You snuck out with a kit from the hospital and headed straight to Dorn’s house. You notice a black van was following you for quite some time, but you managed to lose them.

As you pulled into the driveway your heart started to beat fast. The idea of something happening to your dad really shook you to the core. Being away from home for so long due to nursing school you lost so much time with your family. You also missed Uncle Mike, he’s the only person that knows how to deal with your dad.

You knocked on the door to see Dorn and immediately he gives you a hug. You missed him and Kelly so much. As you walk inside you immediately give your dad a hug and check to see if he had any bad injuries.

“There’s my favorite niece!” Uncle Mike picks you up and spins you around. You noticed a familiar face in the kitchen and your heart immediately went to your ass.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You look at the prisoner who you’ve fell head over heels for but haven’t heard a word from in 2 weeks. Armando just stood in the kitchen holding a beer looking like a lost puppy. He knew he was going to see you once Marcus made that call.

“Y/N this is my son Armando he-“

“YOUR SON?!” You were in love with a MIKE 2.0 ??!??!!? That Lowrey DNA is a fucking bitch. You had the biggest crush on Uncle Mike in your teenage years now you bent ass backwards over his son.

“Princess it’s okay. He’s come a long way since killing Captain Howard-“ Marcus tries comforting you.

“Marcus…” Mike gives him a dirty look cause it was a low blow.

He killed Captain Howard?……

The look on your face broke Armando’s heart. Yes he killed Captain Howard and if he had a choice he would have never done it. He watched the terror of it unfold in front of his eyes and he regretted every moment of it. Whatever you guys had was probably dead after hearing that. You ended the conversation as you started to clean up Uncle Mike’s wounds.

“Geez I remember when I was babysitting you now you over here cleaning me up.” Mike jokes as he sips on a beer.

“Sounds like you getting old” You started to laugh as he straightens himself up and push his chest out.

“There was a car following me on the way over here but I managed to lose it.” You finished stitching up his wound and Armando was next.

“You should stay here tonight just in case. You and Armando can share the guest bedroom. Mike and Marcus can stay on the pullout.” Dorn suggested and Kelly agrees with him.

“Armando you sleeping on the floor and don’t get any ideas!” Marcus warns.

“Please Marcus, that boy is clearly in love with whoever in dem damn polaroids he got on him.” Mike teases and your face immediately turns red as you wipe down Armando’s wound. He tries to maintain a straight face but he couldn’t help the little smile that creeped up. Yes he was in love with you as crazy as it sounded. He wanted to tell you after the visit but he lost all his access due to the fight.

After playing nurse for everybody, it was time to clean up and get some rest. You and Armando headed off to the guest bedroom with the clothes and towels Dorn gave you. As soon as the door closed, you pulled him in for a hug. Yes he killed Captain Howard, but he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have any redeeming qualities. You let all your emotions come to the surface.

“I thought I lost you…”You let out a soft cry. Armando caress your face and wiped your tears. He didn’t deserve you even after hearing he killed Captain you still wanted to talk to him. He didn’t want to question it, he just thanked his lucky stars.

“You could never lose me mami. I love you Y/N. The day after the visit, I wanted to tell you but the fight happened and they cut off all my access. I love you I’m so lucky to even have you.” That all you needed to hear. You pulled him in a for kiss. This time you guys had extra hours to yourself no guards to interrupt your time.

“Alright stinky go take a shower!” He strips down and you took both of your clothes to the laundry. Obviously you checked to see if anyone was up but the lights were already out. Your dad and Uncle Mike already snoring in the living room. You hopped into the shower with him, taking in his figure for the first time. He had old scars and some new wounds but god was he handsome. The water cascading down his caramel skin had you drooling. You couldn’t help but take in how …..packed he was. He was already bricked up but you couldn’t blame him. You knew he’d be getting off to your picture so seeing you in front of him like this…..he was using the last bit of self control he had.

“Touch me….” You wrapped his arms around you as the water hits the both of you. The warmth of the water and the steam filling the air was adding to the heat you were feeling for him.

“I-I shouldn’t ….we should wait…” Your foreheads touching as his hands stay firmly at your waist. He didn’t want you to feel like you were obligated to give him some ass just cause he’s out of prison. He could easily help himself in the middle of the night or just have self control. But seeing you out those fucking scrubs had him bricked and aching.

“Armando I’ve waited long enough…please touch me….I need you…” you moved his hands to your ass and started to kiss on his neck.

Fuck. The self control was out the window.

🙊🙈

Taglist: @yeahnohoneybye @cardi-bre91 @onlysarang @romanreignsluver1 @minwn

@armandosbabymama @dyttomori @bbyplutosblog @vergilnelosparda @believeinthefireflies95

@ebsmind @hopetookourvibe @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @poppetbaby02 @bitchyglittersuit

@marley1773

@jacobscipioswoman @sunrisesfromthewest

@midnightheat

[kassabfamily]

Hello, be a light for us, friends

We, the three children Abdul Majeed, Youssef, and Izzat from the Kassab family, suffer from mental disabilities and a decline in mental and cognitive abilities, which results in constant screaming, aggressive behavior, and excessive movements, as well as speech disorders and the inability to control the excretory processes, as mentioned in the medical report issued by the doctors. The start of the aggression against Gaza, the disease worsened, and we are not even close to our relatives. Currently, we were living before the war in a house that sheltered us and our family in security and peace. After a full year of brutal war on Gaza, the curtain is revealed. About us in front of people, and now we live in a tent among people, where bullying by peers has been widespread, which has led to our inability to mingle and confront people.

The three of us were deprived of the minimum requirements of life, which are health, education, or even playing with peers. We are now suffering from a very severe deterioration in health due to malnutrition and lack of treatment, and my father cannot provide us with the minimum necessities of life.

We are really in a lot of pain and we ask you to contribute and support us to get out of this impasse and perhaps receive appropriate treatment outside the country

We have a medical report on our three cases and we can present it to everyone.

Thank you all, friends

Pleas donate frend or shared

@90-ghost

[yumeka-sxf]

It's been a while since I made a merch post 🙂First items I want to share are these adorable pin+acrylic stand sets featuring the Forgers in their resort island outfits from the cruise arc ❤️

Next is some merch from the Anime Extra Mission event from June. I got a clear file (which I scanned in a previous post), a fan, and a copy of the pamphlet.

The pamphlet has some nice content, including interviews with all the voice actors, transcriptions of the live reading scripts they did at the event, and a cool chart of all the current anime episodes. Here's a few pages:

Not sure if I'll ever get around to translating all of it, but detailed summaries of the live reading stories are available on the Spy x Family Fan Wiki.

Next is some goods I got from the Nijigen no Mori collab that's been going on in Japan. I got a hat, an umbrella, a mug, a water bottle, and a clear file (which I also recently scanned).

I was thankful that the hat just about fit my fat head/thick hair!

The umbrella is really nice too! I'll definitely use it during the three days a year it rains here 😅 I could use it for sunny days too I suppose, lol.

Next is the CODE: White home video release! I liked the bonus merch that came with both the Toho deluxe version (left photo) and the Amazon JP deluxe version (right photo). So I got both.

Unfortunately, I had a mishap with my copy of the Amazon version where FedEx delivered it to the wrong house! I got the notification that it was delivered, but it wasn't at my front doorstep, plus the photo they shared was of a completely different front door, so I started freaking out. I drove around the block trying to find any neighboring houses that looked like the one in the photo. After I couldn't find it, I submitted an issue report to FedEx. They said they would try to track down the driver and figure out what happened. I wasn't too hopeful and was debating ordering it again, but decided to wait a bit. And much to my surprise, the next morning the driver found the missing package...but unfortunately the house he delivered it to had kids who opened it already. So he brought it to me in a different box with all the pieces loose. Luckily everything was in good shape and accounted for...or so I thought. The deluxe version came with a lot of extras and I didn't realize until later that day that I was actually missing a couple of things, notably the nice slipcover box for the discs and the art booklet. I was of course really mad about this, but I was able to find someone on Mercari selling a copy of the movie with these items for a good price, so I bought it.

The booklet is really cool - it has concept art, key frame sketches, and other neat info~ Here's a few pages:

By this point I had three copies of the movie on blu-ray (one of which had fingerprints on the discs from the grubby hands of the kids who opened my package 😑 At least the discs still worked) So I gave the extras away to friends.

I threw in the below little lenticular bookmark with one of my Mercari orders. It was given out at this past NatsuComi expo in Japan.

And lastly, some smaller items: postcards (which I also scanned) and a Twiyor pin~

[moonlight-records]

Nutcracker after hours| MV33 (HAC #4)

pairing: mv33 x technical theater!reader

summary: It's nutcracker season and you have taken the role of production stage manager for your theater. Your boyfriend reminds you that he is your biggest fan and supporter.

warning: fluff!

fc: none!

wc: 2.7K

a/n: day 4 of moonlight records holiday advent calendar!

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | current day | day 5 | day 6

There are two live theater shows that are a trademark for the holiday season. The first one is the Christmas Spectacular starring the Radio City Rockettes in NYC. It truly is spectacular as you got to see the show once or twice on your trips to NYC during the holiday season and you still hope that they’ll release a pro-shot for others to see.

The second show is The Nutcracker. It was the show for the holiday season. A classic in the ballet world that has become a timeless classic. It was a show that you have seen time and time again. Sometimes it’s your own choice but most times it’s because you work The Nutcracker during the holiday season.

You enjoyed working on the show during the holiday season. Most times you’re a crew member backstage helping with the props and a few costume changes when the team wardrobe is spread thin. You got to hang with your now Nutcracker family, as you called them, and it was nothing but laughs, even the stage management team who constantly are running around like chickens without heads. You often came in early with food (or came back with food during two show days) and let them rant about the dance moms. As much as you love stage managing, you did not envy the stage management team dealing with all the dance moms and were very content being just a random crew member.

Though that all changed this year when the production stage manager reached out to you back in May and asked if you would take over for her. She was pregnant and her due date was during the Nutcracker season and the stress of the stage management team you did not need her to deal with during a pregnancy so you stupidly took the job thinking it wouldn’t be that bad.

“I hate dance moms!” You announce as you close the door entering the house. You bring your gaze to the corner of the living room seeing Max on the sim raising his mic as he glances over at you. You cover your mouth and mouth an ‘I’m sorry!’ realizing that he’s on stream. You put your backpack down on the couch gently and sit down as Jimmy and Sassy both make their way over out of their hiding spot and purr as they climb all over you as you take your laptop out.

Hearing shuffling, you glance up and giggle seeing Max’s headset hair as he makes his way over to the couch. He sits next to you tossing an arm over the back of the couch as he leans back. “What was that about hating dance moms?”

You groan at Max’s question as you lean back and rest your head against Max’s head staring at the ceiling. Then you sit forward again as you continue the rehearsal report, because if you stayed at the theater for a second long you were going to rip your hair out, as your eye twitches. “Entitled moms who have done nothing but try to butter up Mrs. Dimitri all rehearsal and have nasty attitudes. You know one mom tried to argue with my asm when they asked her, very kindly, to be quiet backstage because I heard her from the front of the house. You know how loud you have to be for me to hear you in the front of the theater?”

“Pretty loud?” Max asks cautiously.

“Exactly! Also, The Nutcracker has no words and these are moms that have been with the dance school that’s performing for years so you think they'd do no better!” You throw your hands up and turn to face your boyfriend as you continue ranting, “but no. They have no respect for my team or me all because "we’re not Sherry”. That’s exactly what she said to me when I went backstage during break to explain why her behavior was unacceptable.”

Max’s face twists in shock and disgust, “What? Oh absolutely not. Please tell me you gave her a piece of your mind.”

“Sadly, I could not. Again, I was working but Sherry did give me permission to call her if stuff like this arose and I did just that and Sherry chewed her out on speaker and told her that ‘I specifically asked Y/N to fill in since I’m pregnant and close to my due date. Do not let me get another phone call like this again because next one I will not be nice in my wording.” You smile at the memory, “so yeah. Tomorrow should be fun.”

“Oh, liefje,” Max frowns, “I’m sorry you had to deal with that today.” Max pulls you in by his shoulders and gently kisses your forehead, “I’m glad Sherry had your back though.” It takes a second before Max frowns, “wait. You have work tomorrow? I thought tomorrow was your day off.”

“It’s tech. We work until opening day. I was hoping tomorrow would be a quick day but given how horrible today was tech wise, he wants at least an 8 hour day.” You sigh softly as you lean away to continue typing, “so I have to finish the report and send that out to everyone and then update the daily schedule for tomorrow and send that out again and blah blah blah.” You lean into Max, making a face as you speak and laugh along with Max before you shift leaning your back against Max’s side as you type.

When you finish your paperwork and email them out you get up and excuse yourself. You plug your laptop in so it’s ready to go tomorrow before going to shower and changing into pajamas. You come back out drying your hair and smile seeing a take out container from your favorite spot while Max is flipping through streaming services. You sit next to him, thanking him and kissing his cheek before grabbing the closest blanket and putting it over you two. Jimmy and Sassy immediately climb onto your lap and giggle softly as the cats purr and curl up into your lap. Max so kindly passes you your to go container as you two settle down for a movie.

You overslept by accident. When you woke up, you were stumbling out of bed and getting dressed before quickly brushing your teeth before packing your backpack quickly and rushing out the door. You’re in the car when you realize you left your leftovers in the car and groan because if you go back in, you’ll be late. You decide that you’ll just buy lunch as you back out of the driveway and head to the theater.

You get there about an hour before rehearsal starts and by the time everything is set up and ready, including talking to the crew and running them through the day's event, it was time to start. It started with a class lead by the older dancers before you announce to the dancers (and parents who are in the show) that you will be backstage and it will be running at show conditions. That would include all costumes, props, drops, hair, and makeup. You then watch the crew set up for the top of the show after doing an alcohol sweep as well as doing a channel check for the lights. You make your way off stage to give a 15 minute warning to the company before stopping at a rather confused figure entering backstage.

“Max?”

“Ah! Mijn liefje” Max announces as you come over to him, “There you are. This place is gigantic. Thank god you have signs because I would’ve gotten lost.” Max laughs softly while holding a bag and your favorite glass tumbler with iced coffee.

You take the bag and plop it in your chair at your little stage management podium before grabbing the mic and giving the 15 minute warning. Pushing the mic away, you take the coffee from Max, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to give you your lunch. You left it at home and you also were rushing out the door. You didn’t even think about making coffee.” Leaning over to look at your station, he leans back, “and apparently you didn’t even stop for iced coffee.” Pressing the back of his hand gently to your forehead, “are you sick?”

“Ha ha.” You start as you take a sip of your iced coffee and feel the caffeine hit your system which is a breath of fresh air for you, “I overslept and since I needed to open the theater and get everything set up, I didn’t bother.” You shrug casually, “I was just planning on ordering something and having a crew member grab it for me.”

Max stares at you and blinks.

“What?”

“Why would you order something? You can just text me. I’ll drop it off.”

“Oh well, I didn’t know if you’d be on the sim or something so,” you shrug casually, “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Nonsense,” Max pulls his brows together, “you can—” you hold a finger up to signal ‘just a moment’ before pulling the mic back down to give a ten minute warning. It’s early but dancers are never on time. Pushing the mic away you gesture for Max to continue, “—just text me anytime when I’m home. Nothing can be more important than you.” Huffing his cheeks out in slight annoyance, “just for that I’m going to stay in case you need anything.”

Putting your lips together you let it mull over. Technically, Max should not be backstage considering he was not a part of the show at all but after the day you had yesterday, you would love to see your boyfriend.

“Fine.” You hold a hand up, “but you have to follow some rules.”

“Y/N.” Max wiggles his nose slightly.

“Max. You have to follow these rules if you want to stay. I’m already breaking one by letting you stay. Technically if you aren’t a dancer, a parent, or a part of the crew you should not be back here so please.”

“Fine. What are the rules.”

“Don’t be too loud. Don’t touch anything on the table or even think about touching the fly rail system. You can pull a chair up and sit by me but don’t wander, please. Also please, for the love of god, when I say ‘standby’ on headset do not speak. I need complete silence and that goes for everyone else around me and everyone on headset.” You look at your boyfriend, “can you do that?”

“Easy.”

“You say that now.” You smile, “you can always step out if needed.”

You turn to give the five minute warning as Max snorts before finding a chair and bringing it over. Once you give the final ‘places for top of show’ you sit in your own chair and put your headset on.

“Coms check. Rail?”

“Here.”

“Thank you. Lighting?”

“I’m here!"

“Great! Spot one?”

“Hello hello.”

“Hey there. Spot two?”

“Yuuuuuuur!”

“Yuuuuuuuur.” You grin. “Sound?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Wonderful! Rail, can I have the main in?”

“Working.” It gives a beat as you watch the main curtain come in on the monitor before you hear “complete” on the coms.

Thank you. Finally, stage left?”

“Ready whenever you are.”

“That’s what I love to hear.” You sing and try to ignore Max looking up at you in awe seeing you in your element. Opening your iPad case, you pull the “script” up, which is just the score with all the cues, as you hear the door behind you open. You glance down and snicker at Max’s face twisting from awe to shock as all the children and adults start filing in. You mouth ‘I told you’ before turning back to the monitor as you crack your neck.

“Alright everyone. Have a great show! Standby sound for pre-show, LX for lights 101 and 102 and rail out. Pre-show and lights 101 go.” You listen to the announcement as you watch the house lights dim as the show begins.

You go from sitting to standing. Even though you had a wired headset, it was long enough that you could pace back and forth in between calls to make sure everything was fine. A few times, you turn and jump when Max is behind you. You almost yell at him before realizing and taking a breath. He offers a sheepish smile and murmurs an ‘apology’ because it was a force of habit that Max turns into your shadow when you start moving. You mouth ‘that it’s fine but you need to sit‘ because you did not need something going wrong while Max is trying to be your shadow.

The first act goes without a hitch. After the curtain drops the dancers scatter off the stage chatting and laughing when intermissions rolls around as you give a 15 minute warning for the top of act 2. You lean back in your chair, taking your headset off and closing your eyes for a moment.

“Wow.”

You open your eyes as you bring your gaze to your boyfriend. Your eyes meet turquoise eyes shining in awe, “You’re amazing at stage managing.”

You blush slightly and break your gaze first. “Oh, thanks babe. It’s nothing, really.”

“Do not start to undersell yourself. I mean it, Y/N.” Max turns to face you, leaning on the arm of your chair and you can’t help to bring your gaze back to your boyfriend, “I mean it. Sure, I don’t understand most of what is going on but I know damn well that if you put me in front of that iPad and told me to do it I would be utterly lost. Even with a show that has words, I wouldn’t be able to do half the things you do while also being extremely professional and nice,” leaning in his voice drops as he murmurs, “because you are right. Dance moms are fucking cunts.” Leaning back and clearing his throat, “Really. You’re amazing at this.”

Typically, you brush compliments off when it comes to your job because it’s well, your job. You know how hard and demanding the job is sometimes and you always joke that you truly hate yourself to put yourself through this torture but it was rewarding at the end of the day. Though hearing it come from Max, who knows little to theater, your heart flutters as you melt into your chair slightly. “Thank you, babe.” You murmur softly as you gently while rubbing soothing circles into his cheek. You smile as Max leans into your touch, kissing your palm gently.

“Of course, mijn liefje.” Max murmurs softly as he settles down as you turn away to grab the mic. You continue to make the calls to the company before act two is under way.

By some miracle, Mr. Dimitri is pleased after the second run through of the show and ends rehearsal early which you’re thankful for. You get the report out along with the daily schedule before making your way onto stage with your crew to run them through what the game plan would be for opening night. You make sure everything backstage is locked up before walking out the front lobby with Max saying goodbye to the front of house staff, who in return say goodbye to the two of you.

Once outside, both you and Max shield your eyes since it’s still sunny out though you put your hand down only a moment after, eyes readjusting.

“Fucking hell,” Max mutters as he blinks a few times and his eyes readjust. “How did you readjust so fast?”

“When you do this so often, your eyes just train themselves.” You explain, “Well…I didn’t actually plan to get out as early as we did so is there anything you want to do?”

Ruffling through his pockets, “I do.” Max pulls out a ticket and hands it to you with the most innocent shit eating grin.

Raising a brow, you take the ticket and laugh. It’s one of the homemade tickets you made for Max. He’s decided to cash his ‘one free cuddle session for however long the owner of the tickets wants’. “Well, Mr. Verstappen, how long are you requesting a cuddle session?”

Pulling you in by your waist, Max hums softly and tilts his head. “Rest of the day?”

Wrapping your arms around Max’s neck, “I can do that.”

“Well, come on.” Max gently tugs you and you giggle, stumbling into Max slightly as he leads you two to his arm.

[mintharabaenrelore]

Today we're analyzing Minthara's appearance.

(This post contains a lot of screenshots. Thank you so much to all the people who took them!)

Height

Drow, on average, are smaller than other elves, shorter and thinner, with "wiry", "athletic" bodies.

"Reports varied on the physical differences between the drow sexes. Some purported that females were generally bigger and stronger than males, while others claimed that males had superior strength. Both sexes varied in height from 4 feet and 7 inches to 5 feet and 5 inches (140 to 170 centimeters), averaging at 5 feet (150 centimeters). Males weighed between 87 to 157 pounds (39 to 71.2 kilograms), averaging 109.5 pounds (49.67 kilograms), while females were a bit lighter, weighing between 82 to 152 pounds (37 to 68.9 kilograms) and averaging 104.5 pounds (47.4 kilograms)."- Forgotten Realms Wiki.

@krembruleed made a lovely height comparison between of the companions based off in-game models.

Astarion is a good reference, as he is canonically aproximately 5'11. Larian has confirmed he is only 5'9.

I'm just speculating here, as (I think) Shadowheart, Jaheira, and Minthara share the same heights and the same body model.

According to lore, though, Minthara is quite small, and this is backed up by the scene directly after Act II, when the whole group is gathered. She looked significantly shorter than the others there, in my game.

It also makes sense genetically- take Triel Baenre, who was less than 5 feet tall, or Jarlaxle Baenre, who is rather slender.

Hair Length

Her hair has to be long. Have you seen the size of that bun?

(Picture above by @northernolddragon!)

(Picture above by @swordopera!)

Drow generally keep their hair long, often decorating it with pins and webbing made of precious medals. Also take note of the color of her hair, as drow women's hair turns pale yellow with age, and this is a useful clue. (Canonically, she is quite young, Emma Gregory says this herself, so I personally think it's white and just looks yellow in certain lights.)

When you click on a mirror as Minthara, she says, "Not a hair out of place," so I assume she has a reason for keeping her hair as it is- that reason being practicality. If her hair is anywhere near as long as I think it is, fighting with it down would be a hassle!

I think there is also some psychology to be found in her hair, though. Her choosing to keep it as a messy bun could be seen as an act of rebellion, when compared to elaborate Menzoberranzan hairstyles such as Triel Baenre's... or it could be seen as her holding onto her past.

(I can't get enough of seeing pictures of her with it down, though.)

Scars

Before we discuss her scars, I just have to mention that she has freckles. I love her freckles.

The wonderful @mogruith checked out Minthara's unmodded face and did not see any noteworthy markings.

It's hard to tell what are sunspots/freckles and what may be scars, but I did my best.

I looked at a screenshot by @missgamerin and circled what seem, to me, like scars.

That potential scar on her cheek can also be seen in a screenshot by @ilikedetectives.

Eyes

Drow eyes could be of any color, with bright red being the most common. [...] The color of a drow's eyes could also be indicative of their current mental or physical state; drow eyes reddened when they were angry, and turned yellow when they were sick, poisoned, or under some negative magical influence."- Forgotten Realms Wiki

This information suggests Minthara's eyes should have been yellow while under the Absolute's control, and perhaps even all the time, as she doses herself with poison. I haven't noticed her eyes changing color during the game, but perhaps you have?

Tattoo

We've reached what I deem the most fascinating part of Minthara's appearance- the tattoo on the right side of her neck.

(The picture above is by @exehtml!)

(The picture above is the same one you saw earlier, by @ilikedetectives!)

Her tattoo, as I assume you know, is the seal of House Baenre, her family and the First House of Menzoberranzan.

"A drow house insignia was often crafted as a brooch with a sculpted image on it. This image was the glyph of the noble house the drow was attached to. [...] A drow house insignia's powers could only be safely employed by someone who received an attunementspell, which was part of the attunementritual, which was a well-known fact among priestesses of Lolth. The powers of an insignia were activated by touch with bare flesh while concentrating on which power was to be activated or with a command word. [...] A drow house insignia was a reliable way to locate an individual, provided the diviner was taught how to trace it—usually by the Matron Mother, High Priestess, or House Wizard. This was because each insignia was slightly different, even those from the same noble house] The wizards, who were also the insignia's creators, were capable of protecting themselves from such tracing."- Forgotten Realms Wiki.

A drow house insignia is a magical item, and I have never seen a mention of a tattoo functioning as one. Uthegentel Del'Armgo, as @lunastrophe says in a post on Minthara's tattoo, which I highly recommend, wore his house emblem pinned to his bare neck. That still isn't the same as it being part of his bare neck, though.

In Menzoberranzan, is it truly safe to flaunt your family's status on your neck?

"Drow took special care to keep their drow house insignia safe. Only the nobles from the First House wore them openly while all others wore them in ways known only to their households."

Minthara is a noble from the First House; this could explain it. I personally think it is a mark of pride, as- based on how often Minthara quotes her family's saying and discusses how powerful they are- Minthara is, or used to be, very proud of her heritage. Is it the wisest decision? No, but Minthara herself has said she is aware of her flaws, and knows pride is certainly among them.

What are your theories? I hope you enjoyed this post!

[needsmoreresearch]

One of the most immediately and directly vulnerable populations in the US right now is and will be immigrants without citizenship. Undocumented people in particular, but also anyone in the asylum process or with any kind of fragility to their legal status. We don't know yet how far that "fragility" will extend once Trump takes office: a green card should protect people from deportation but it wouldn't surprise me to see challenges.

The asylum process is one of the very few legal pathways to enter the US or to remain in the US if you are in danger of deportation. However, asylum seekers are not automatically appointed a legal representative. There's no public defender system for this. And without a lawyer people are more likely to face family separation, unnecessary detention, and deportation. This is...a pit of human suffering, frankly, that no one deserves.

If you are looking for ways to help, search around a bit for organizations near you that provide free immigration legal assistance. Here's an example near me: The Legal Project. They also provide free legal assistance with domestic violence, affordable housing, elder abuse, human trafficking, and many other situations where people are trapped for lack of free legal aid.

Even small amounts of money help! They may have clinic days when volunteers without any legal knowledge can still make a big difference. Heck, if you don't know how to find and contact an organization like this near you, I will help you. Contact me and I can at least get you started on the preliminary footwork.

You can also consider helping--with money or volunteer time--organizations that work at the US border. Currently many people approaching the border are summarily turned away without being permitted to apply for asylum. People who are deported may be dropped off without any help finding shelter. My boss is currently volunteering at the border as he does every year, and the reports he sends are pretty rough. (I didn't sign on for out-of-hours texts about moms and little kids being rough-handled and chucked out at the border with nowhere to go! Seriously, dude, I'm going to bed now, there's a time zone difference! But...I also kind of did sign on for this.) I know less about these organizations, but here is an example. They provide life-saving supplies of food and water, they help migrants and deportees find emergency shelter, they provide an on-the-ground witness to what border patrols are doing.

[khizuo]

Call to action to help a queer disabled artist and their family survive another month!

Bree is currently managing over 10 debilitating Chronic illnesses, unfortunately making them unable work. They have a long road ahead including raising over 10k for surgeries.

They've been relying on community support for survival while newly being housed after surviving homelessness. Any help is always appreciated towards their goals.

Cashapp- $beautygoddess147

Venmo- @bigdaddybri47

PayPal- @beautygoddess47

Groceries - $193

(Pick up order for today including tonight's dinner)

Commander Shepherd's food, shots, grooming - $200

(Food and grooming is needed asap it's husky/ german shepherd shedding season and hair is everywhere, shots are needed by the EOM)

Renters insurance - $50

(Need by today last thing needed for lease renewal)

To secure housing for November - $3000

(Need by EOM to prevent homelessness)

Fundraisers to support medical and housing needs:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/breethegoddess

https://ko-fi.com/brattygoddess111

All of this is urgent, Bree’s videos routinely gets shadowbanned, maliciously reported and ignored on tiktok. Thousands of people would see her asking for the bare minimum to survive just so they don’t get worse and their video would get a fraction of likes and comments. Please please support them and show them love.

Bree’s tiktok account

Can someone please match with me?

Bree’s flyer which I took the words for this post from, please spread around:

[a-very-tired-jew]

A lot of the current antisemitism I see on here, other sites, and experience in person reminds of behavior I see during cases where I'm required to attend in person and/or testify. Often there will be people outside of the court house who are associated with the defendant, accused, or victim and are there for one reason or another. Emotions are high as someone is watching a loved one be tried for a crime, another person is hoping that they get justice for their loved one, and every reason in between.

When I enter a courthouse people often do not know who I am outside of the lawyers involved (though sometimes an unsavory lawyer has told the civilians who I am or who my colleagues are so that they mob us beforehand). My job is to testify to the evidence that I analyzed and reported on. I simply state during what period of time insects could have potentially arrived at, what stage of development they are in, and what that developmental stage implies. I do not testify to the guilt or innocence of the individual on trial, and as a consultant I work on a first come, first serve basis so as to not be biased towards defendants, plaintiffs, or prosecution.

All things considered, my testimony is usually a dry lecture on insects, their developmental stages, their community stage and progression, what that tells us, and how we use it.

However, afterwards when I leave at the end of the day there will be some friends and family of one of the above persons screaming at me. I've been called a murderer, a criminal, a Spawn of Satan himself, and more insults than I can remember. This has come from families of accused who desecrated and mutilated bodies to families of the victims who are lashing out at anyone who would testify for the defense. I have no actual impact on the crime itself, I was not present in any capacity until after the fact when I was brought in.

But because I have some relation to the case, as a professional, I am now a target that can be lashed out at. I can be insulted and even assaulted if the emotional reasoning of these individuals so dictates.

That's why I'm drawing this comparison.

The way in which the current iteration of antisemitism is used to lash out at Jews just reminds me of these people outside of the courthouses. They're highly emotional and lashing out at anyone with the slightest relation to the thing they've labeled as bad. They see red and actual objective reasoning is replaced with subjective thought, which can be easily manipulated and directed. There's very little to actually be done when engaging with this kind of person.

No matter how many times you explain to the family members outside of the courthouse that you're only there to talk about insects they still view you as the enemy. Just as it doesn't matter how many times you explain to an antisemite that the average Jew in NJ has no impact on the war, they're still a representation of "Evil" and must be insulted/assaulted.

The unfortunate part is that it's the entirety of our people being targeted in this way (yes, even the anti-Zionist Jews get it - e.g. Yuval). Unlike the people outside the courthouse we can't actually ignore this either. You can't just walk away and go home, never to encounter those persons again (usually, sometimes you get called back). Antisemitism is ingrained and extremely prevalent with people attacking Jews and Jewish institutions regularly. There's no way to actually ignore it and be safe. I wish there was. I wish I could just tell an antisemite some cool bug facts and be done with it, but here we are.