#i really want to get myself another wig so I don't have the same one for every sky cosplay but I only have one and I won't get another until

[skygremlin]

Would you look at that this is probably the most I've posted in a few (almost) consecutive days here since ever

But Boy am I so excited with how this came out

LOOKIT IT!!

Ew don't look too close tho

The dark plant is magnetic!!! I can take it off and put it on my head!!!! Isn't that so cool?!

It's just a little thing and so easily done but I love it sm

[me-loving-woso]

The day after tomorrow

As promised here is Part 2 of Today. Tomorrow. You can find Part 1 here: Today. Tomorrow

As soon as you reached her building, you sent her a text.

**Y/n**: Are you home?

**Aitana**: Yes, I am. Why?

**Y/n:** Open the door.

You entered the building and quickly reached her door, knocking. After a few moments, she opened it, looking surprised, both at your presence and your new bald look.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to apologize," you said shyly, waiting for her to let you in. She widened the door to let you in, then closed it again. "I'm really sorry about how I treated you today. It wasn't fair to you, and I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, really," she said without much thought.

"You can be mad at me; I deserve it," you told her.

"You're going through something really tough. I get it if you want to lash out or not be vulnerable around me, even if sometimes, I'd like it if you'd let me be there for you more," she softened her gaze, showing her sincerity.

"Maybe that's the problem," you came closer to her. "Aren't you going to get tired of waiting for me?"

She was taken aback by the question, surprised at your acknowledgment of what was happening between you. The last time that happened, you were drunk.

"Well, I don't see it that way. We are already kinda acting like a couple. We cuddle, we sometimes sleep together, we are there for each other, we communicate, and we both care for each other in a way that friends wouldn't," she pointed out. Those past weeks, she had been there for you like a girlfriend would.

"Well, you can say that, but is it enough? Do you really think we could go on like this for more than another month?"

"What are you trying to say, Y/n? Do you want this to end?"

"No, no. What I'm trying to say is that I don't think I've given you a proper chance. I pushed you away multiple times because I was scared. And I really don't want to anymore."

A smile crept onto her lips as she tried to suppress it. "So you're saying—"

"Yes, Tani. 70% of relationships fail in the first year, so let's be that 30%."

"Are you sure? Like 100%? Because if you're doing it for me, you really don't have to. I'm happy being what we are currently," she rambled.

"I'm doing it for myself. So now, just shut up and kiss me.”

She gently placed her hands on your cheeks and pulled you close to her lips. The kiss was so sweet that you both couldn't properly kiss each other because you couldn't stop smiling.

"Be serious! I can't kiss you properly," you told her, giggling.

"I'm trying!" She took a breath to keep her smile from creeping in and kissed you again, this time properly.

She took her time, making sure you both fully enjoyed kissing each other for the first time. You slowly pushed her until she was seated on the couch, while you surged forward, sitting on her lap. There, she held you tight by your waist, while you had your hands on the sides of her jaw.

When you finally pulled away to breathe, you began to pepper her cheeks, jaw, and forehead with small, quick kisses, making her giggle. You wished to hear that giggle for the rest of your life if you could.

She took a closer look at you. "You have to change your beanie!" she said, taking you off guard.

"Why? You don't like it? I'm not going for a wig if that's what you're asking."

"You're bringing an Adidas product into my home! Nike is better! Wait. I'll give you one of mine." She patted your leg for you to move, then got up and left for her room.

After a couple of seconds, she quickly came back to you, sat down on the couch, and urged you to get in the same position as before.

"Can I take the beanie off?" she asked you. It was going to be a big step for you, showing this kind of vulnerability to her. You knew she knew about your illness, but it still scared you that she would look at you differently.

You lightly nodded, and she slowly took the beanie off you, leaving your bare head on display. She gently caressed the back of your head. "How is this so smooth?" she stated jokingly. You smacked her head in response.

"You're an idiot. That's the same thing Ciro said to me," you chuckled.

"Joking aside, this right here is proof that you're one hell of a fighter, Y/n. Never forget that. The hair will eventually grow back, but your spirit and your will through this tough illness will make you even stronger." She picked up her Nike beanie and gently placed it on your head. "There you go. Definitely better." She gave you a soft kiss on your forehead and gently embraced you.

"I don't know how I got so lucky with you," you said gratefully.

"I'm the lucky one, believe me."

That night, you both remained awake until 2 AM. You told her everything about you—your first girlfriend, uni life and your relationship with Ciro and your mom. You wanted her to know everything about you and why you were the way you were.

In return, she told you everything about her life, why she loved football so much, and her deepest insecurities and fears. You both listened intently, deepening the bond that you had with each other. That conversation made you fall for her even more than before.

--

--

The next morning, Aitana headed to training with a newfound happiness. The night before had left her feeling incredibly content—words couldn't quite capture the depth of her emotions. Seeing you give her a proper chance filled her with immense gratitude.

Patience wasn't her strongest suit, but for you, she would have waited for years. In her mind, the connection that she felt with you wasn’t something that you could find with the first random person. It felt unique, but maybe all the new couples felt like this when they finally get togather.

As she entered the physio room for her session with Ciro before practice, she immediately noticed his new haircut.

"Whoa, new haircut? Looks sleek and aerodynamic!" she teased lightly.

"Is it that bad?" he asked, seemingly unfazed by her teasing.

"Just because you did it, and why you did it, it's perfect. I would've done it too if Y/n let me," she remarked.

"She would never. She'd be so mad!" Ciro chuckled.

"I know, right!"

His expression softened as he asked, "Y/n didn't come home last night. You guys talked?" Aitana felt a blush creep onto her cheeks, silently confirming his question. She sat down on the physio bed, and Ciro began working on her ankle.

"Should I give you the brother-in-law talk?" he asked, turning to her seriously.

"Whoa! A little too early for that. Give us at least a week!" she exclaimed, widening her eyes.

"Joking aside, I'm glad you didn't give up on her. It might not seem like it, but you've been helping her so much," Ciro remarked.

"You keep saying that, but in reality, I'm the one who needs her, not the opposite," Aitana admitted shyly.

"You're such a suck up!" Ciro joked, prompting Aitana to playfully push him off her ankle.

"That's not true! Without her, we both would be lost! Who would keep us in line?" Aitana retorted as Ciro finished taping her ankle. "You're good to go now."

-

During training, Aitana couldn't wipe the smile off her face, which caught the attention of her teammates, who were accustomed to her serious demeanor.

"Why are you so smiley?" Mapi asked, coming closer to her.

"No particular reason," Aitana lied.

"Does it have something to do with the art restorer?" Mapi pressed on.

"Maybe…" Aitana couldn't suppress the smile forming on her lips.

"She'd better treat you right," Mapi said protectively.

"She is."

"So when are you going to let us meet her properly?" Patri jumped into the conversation.

"I'll talk to her about it tonight," Aitana replied, thinking of the plans you two had after your chemo treatment.

"You never hang out with us anymore!"

"I do! It's just, I've been busy with—"

"Y/n, we know. You should take her out with us," Patri suggested.

"It's not that simple. I'll talk to her about it," Aitana said vaguely, refocusing on training.

-

After training, Aitana quickly showered, put on some sweats, and headed to the hospital to see you. As she entered your room, she found you surrounded by some friends, mostly middle-aged women with breast cancer, gossiping about the hot doctors in the oncology department and trying to set you up with their sons.

"Who's the lucky man?" Jimena, one of the women, asked curiously.

"Jimena, I'd rather not talk about my love life with chemicals running through my veins," you replied, trying to change the subject.

"I get it. Young love!" Jimena teased before Aitana came to your rescue with snacks. As she sat next to you, Jimena and the other women left you two alone to talk.

"Thank god you saved me, Tani. All these women were trying to fix me up with their sons," you whispered, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek.

"Were there any hot, rich contenders?" she asked playfully.

"Yeah! They were all rich entrepreneurs with abs of steel. One of them I think was an Espanyol player? He looked really hot," you teased her. Aitana was momentarily taken aback, but she quickly recovered.

"What? You thought I'd profess my undying love for you and tell you that you're my one and only," you joked, poking her side teasingly.

"I play for Barça and have abs of steel," she replied childishly, trying to one-up the fake contenders you'd invented.

"You're such a child, Tani! None of these fake contenders would stand a chance with you!" you smiled, finding her playful pout endearing.

"Say that I'm your one and only," she playfully prompts.

"You are my one and only," you humor her, lightly moving your body to give a kiss on her cheek. "Today." Another kiss. "Tomorrow." Another one. "The day after tomorrow." Yet another. "And all the days after that." One final kiss seals your declaration, and you see her satisfied look with a slight blush on her cheeks. "You just wanted a cheesy confession," you shake your head, smiling. "You're one little scrounger," you pinch her nose.

"You love it," she retorts.

"I do, but I'll be waiting for a cheesy love confession too."

-

As soon as you were done with the treatment, you decided to take a small walk, as the doctor advised. You headed to a nearby beach, deserted in January, leaving just the two of you.

"So, the team wants to meet you, like properly," she says, slightly nervous.

"Don't I meet them at your birthday party? In like a couple of weeks," you remind her.

"Well, yeah, I didn't actually think about that," she admits shyly.

"Why are you so nervous for me to meet your friends?" you ask, then realizing. "Is it because I have can—"

"Oh, god no! Never think that, okay?" She stops on her feet, turns to you, and gets shy again. "It's the first time I'm bringing a girl to meet them. I've always focused only on football until a couple of months ago—well, I ran into you. So now they're just really curious and they want to meet you."

"I'd love to meet your friends, Tani. You met Eva, so now it's my turn to meet your teammates."

"They can be a lot," she warns you.

"I think I can deal with it. Do they know I have cancer?" you ask.

"It's not my business to say."

"You should tell them. They'll probably call you crazy since you decided to get with a cancer patient. And they would be right," you giggle.

"You call it crazy. I call it just a shift of events. In the beginning, we'll live out the hard times, then we'll have the best times of our life. I'll take you to Japan, like you always wanted to, and you'll take me to Italy, and show me all of the art you restored there," she says hopefully. "And here's the cheesy love confession: I'm not very good at math, but I'm pretty good at figuring out that we belong together." Her unexpected pickup line makes you burst out in giggles. She then turns serious. "I really believe that we work out really well together, Y/n. Today. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. And all the days after that, I'll still believe that. So will you be my girlfriend, officially?"

"Damn, you actually are good at cheesy love confessions," you put your arms around her shoulders and pull her in for a hard kiss. She replies with the same kind of intensity and emotion.

"So it's a yes?"

"Yes," you say excitedly, going back to kiss her.

-

-

Aitana's birthday didn't start as you hoped. It was her first day off in a long time, and you wanted her to have a wonderful day. However, your plans were interrupted around 5 AM when you felt your mouth water, a sign of what was to come.

You rushed to the toilet and emptied your stomach, a common side effect of chemo but a first-time experience for you. After quickly brushing your teeth, you returned to bed, hoping it wouldn't recur. Aitana rolled over to your side and cuddled into you.

"Good morning," she whispered with a raspy voice.

"Good morning, birthday girl. Why are you up so early?" You kissed her scalp. "Go back to sleep." She relaxed against you, or rather, on top of you.

You didn't mind; you loved her cuddliness. Your hand found its way inside her shirt, soothingly rubbing her back until she drifted back to sleep.

She properly woke at 8 AM, and with some coaxing from you, you both headed to the kitchen for breakfast.

"What's the plan for today?" she asked.

"It's your birthday; whatever you want to do," you replied.

"I just want to spend it with you," she smiled goofily.

"You're such a sweet talker," you rolled your eyes.

"Since it's my birthday, you'll have to indulge me in everything," she said excitedly. "Even the most absurd things."

"What do you want?" You handed her a cup of coffee, relishing the domestic moment.

"I want a puppy," she said eagerly.

"Tani, mi amor, mi vida, mi alma, we are not getting a puppy."

"A kitten?" she suggested.

"Even worse."

"Okay, worth a shot," she said sadly, making you giggle.

"I'll give you all the kisses and cuddles you want?" you suggested.

"I think I can be satisfied with that," she said, pulling you onto her lap. "Starting with now." You shook your head amused, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and leaning in. "So I was thinking, let's have a lazy morning, then you'll take me out to lunch at that place we love so much, then in the afternoon, we'll go to the pet store and get a puppy."

"Aitana," you warned her.

"In the afternoon… we’ll figure it out then," she said.

"I have to go to the office for a couple of minutes this afternoon," you lied. You needed to get her present—a small bracelet— at home. You also had to call your doctor about what happened that morning and whether you should be worried.

Honestly, you weren't scared to meet her teammates; what scared you most were her childhood best friends. They knew her since elementary school and were extremely protective, those were the ones you really had to impress.

-

After lunch, you quickly excused yourself and got to your house to get Aitana’s bracelet, and then as a way to apologize you bought her some flowers before you got back to her.

As soon as you got inside her apartment, you heard so many voices, that you never heard of. Her friends were here. Fuck. You were not ready to meet them, you subconsciously fix your beanie, and walk through the door. You are quickly met with Aitana, who meets you at the door, wanting to greet you. As soon as she saw the flowers, her smile widened. 

“Hi, Tani. I wanted to apologize for not being here in the afternoon, so I bought you these.” You explained. Handing her the flowers, while she admired them.

“I love them, thank you so much.” She stands on her tippy toes to give you a kiss, which you gladly prolonged.

After a couple of seconds, she whispered, “My friends are here, they wanted to come earlier to say hi before the party. I’m sorry I should have told you.”

You swallowed hard, and tried to keep on a smile, you weren’t ready to meet them.

“Aitana? Is Y/n here?” A voice interrupted you from replying to your girlfriend.

“We are coming!” She tells him, while she takes your hand. “They are going to love you, just as much as I do.” She reassures you casually saying the last part without even realizing it. But you did.

Before she could drag you to her living room, you drag her closer to you, placing your hands on each side of her face, lightly caressing her cheeks, and give her one final lazy kiss. ���Now we are ready to go.” She gives you one last reassuring smile and showed you to her friends.

“Pepe, Juan and Maria, I want you to meet Y/n.”

“So this is the girl who has been making our Aitana talk non-stop about! For a moment I thought that you were fake!” A guy offers his hand to shake. “Hi, I’m Pepe. Nice to meet you.”

“Y/n.” You shake his hand smiling. “Nice to meet you too, Pepe. I assure you, I’m very much real.”

“Good to know! Aitana’s been going on and on about you. I was starting to think she’d invented the perfect partner in her head.” The other guy Juan interjects.

“Well, I am far from perfect, your friend is the crazy one for keeping up with me!” You chuckle, smiling gratefully to Aitana

“I think you are the crazy one to keep up with her! She can be a hassle sometimes.” Pepe, teases you girlfriends, earning a death glare from her.

“Tell me about it! She’s competitive down to her bones, she never lets me win at anything!” You follow Pepe, making Aitana turn to you. “Don’t look at me like that! You got mad because I was better than you at doing my own job.” You reason.

-

After a couple of minutes, the teasing subsided, making Aitana little more relaxed, she hated when people teased her, something that you always did, because you found her pout to be extremely cute.

You knew that probably Aitana told them not to say anything to you about you having cancer, and even though you loved that she wanted to protect you, it wasn’t something to hide or to not talk about.

As soon as Aitana left to go to the bathroom, you turn to her friends, “I know that Aitana told you not to talk to me about my cancer. But if you have any questions you can ask.” You could see that they were surprised. 

Pepe exchanged a glare with his friends, “Nah, don’t worry. We are good. I know it must be hard for the both of you. But yeah, whatever you need, we are here. My mom had cancer, so I know how it feels like.”

“Plus, I’ve always known that Aitana had somewhat of a Nightingale Syndrome!” Juan joked, making you chuckle surprised.

“Its the only possible reasoning for her to get in a relationship with me.”

“Or maybe it’s because you make me really happy and feel supported?” Aitana walk to from the bathroom and finds her place next to you wrapping an arm around you waist, waiting for you to peck her lips, which you happily oblige.

“I still think it’s the Nightingale syndrome.” You chuckle. “Let’s hope you won’t forget about me when I’ll be cancer free.” 

“You should tie her down, so she’s stuck with you.” Pepe jokes.

“I can’t get you pregnant, I’ll just have to find another way.” You think. 

“I hate this coalition against me. A I don’t have Nightingale syndrome. B, today is supposed to be my birthday, NOT tease Aitana day.”

“We are so sorry.” You give her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll never tease you again.” You lie. “Now if you let me, I’ll steal away Tani for a moment.” You take her hand and drag her to her bedroom, where you had her birthday gift.

“So I know, you told not to buy you anything, but I wanted to give you a little present. And no it’s not a puppy.”

You give her a little box. “So I know that you can’t have bracelets on you, because of football, so I found a knot that you can easily take off and put on.” She opens the box, it was a red string bracelet, which was thought to bring protection and luck. “I know you don’t like ostentatious stuff, so I went with something simple.”

“I love it. Thank you so much.” She hugged you tightly, filling your necks with small pecks. “I can wear bracelets, I’ll just have to cover it when I have a match. Can you put it on for me?”

You gently put it on for her, while she happily admires it. 

“Is it okay? I didn’t know what to gift you.” You tell her. “You have some pretty difficult taste in stuff.” You chuckle.

“I love it, really. I’ll wear it on, so that I can have a reminder of you, whenever I’m away.” She beams.

“Always so cheesy.” You kiss her lips. “I like you really really much, you know that?” You tell her.

—

Her birthday party was set to be at her house because going out was too risky—you couldn’t afford to get sick. Despite your insistence that she do whatever she wanted, she said if it were up to her, she’d spend her birthday just with you. Everyone would be coming over at 8 PM, so you had a couple of hours to get ready.

Your whole body was aching: your joints, your head, your throat—everything. But you promised yourself that it was Aitana’s day, so you’d endure the pain for her happiness. You took some painkillers, but since you weren’t used to them, they made you drowsy.

You decided to wear something simple: jeans and one of Aitana’s shirts. You loved wearing her shirts because they smelled like her, and you loved her reaction when she saw you in them. Today was no exception.

“Comfy?” she asked, emerging from the bathroom into her room where you were changing. Even though you’d been together for over two months, you hadn’t taken the next step in your relationship. Since you started chemo, your sex drive had plummeted, and you’d stopped having periods.

Aitana never brought it up, knowing it should come from you. You appreciated that she never pressured you or made you uncomfortable, but sometimes your mind would twist things, making you think she didn’t touch you because she didn’t want to. This insecurity often resurfaced at the worst times, especially when meeting people from Aitana’s life and presenting yourself as a fragile cancer patient.

“Yes, very much, thank you,” you chuckle. She rounds the bed to get closer, wrapping you in a big hug from behind.

“It’s annoying that you look better in my clothes than I do. We should swap closets,” she says, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek that makes you blush. “You look beautiful.” She turns you around and gives you a searing kiss, making your knees nearly give out. You open your eyes to see how she’s dressed.

“Even though I’m sure you could make a trash bag look hot, you look stunning tonight,”  you reply, smiling proudly. She wasn’t wearing something that elaborate, a simple dress, but it was more than enough for her to look even more beautiful than she already was. Sometimes you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have a girlfriend like her.

“I didn’t overdo it, right?” she asks, sounding insecure.

“Tani, it’s your birthday. Everyone else should adjust to how you dress,” you reassure her. “Ready to go to the living room?” You offer her your hand.

She takes it but swiftly throws you onto the bed, making you squeal in surprise. She giggles and plops on top of you. Thank God for those painkillers. “No, I want to stay here with you! You’re comfy, and you promised unlimited kisses and cuddles,” she whines.

You chuckle, gently scratching her scalp. She loved head scratches.

After a while, with Aitana rambling about the upcoming weeks, she suddenly stops and looks at you seriously. You tilt your head, curious and a bit worried.

“What?”

“Can I feel it?” she asks.

“Feel what?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“The lump on your neck,” she whispers. You pat her side to make her sit up.

“I don’t think it’s the right time. I don’t want to change your mood,” you argue weakly.

“You never let me kiss or touch that side of your neck,” she says, looking down at her hands.

“Because it feels worse than it looks, and I don’t want you to freak out.”

“I want to be able to touch all of you.” You raise an eyebrow suggestively. “Okay, that sounded bad. I apologize,” she chuckles. “But you know what I mean.”

You nod, gently taking her right arm. “Are you sure?” She nods. You guide her hand to your neck. Your eyes twitch as she touches the lump.

“It feels... different than I expected,” she murmurs, her fingertips lingering on the lump, exploring it with careful curiosity. You watch her, your heart heavy, knowing she’s grappling with the reality of it.

“Yeah, it’s not just in our heads,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady. Her eyes meet yours, showing a mix of fear and determination.

“It’s real,” she whispers, her voice catching. “I mean, I knew it was, but feeling it... it makes it so real.”

You nod, feeling a lump forming in your throat. “Yeah. It’s real.”

“But we’ll fight this, okay?” she says, a determined spark in her eyes giving you hope. “I’ll be by your side.”

You nod, feeling the lump in your throat tighten. “Mark my words, if we get through this, I’ll be the most supportive, fun, and grateful girlfriend you deserve. You make me so happy. I just want you to have some happiness, Tani,” you say, feeling deflated.

“I don’t need anything else,” she replies, her voice soft but firm. “Your happiness is my happiness. We’re in this together. You’re stuck with me, and we’ll come out stronger on the other side. Together.”

You squeeze her hand, drawing strength from her unwavering resolve. “Together,” you echo.

She smiles, a mix of determination and love. “Every step of the way. And when this is over, we’ll take those trips to Japan and Italy we planned, and then we’ll have our happy days, cari. But for now, we take it one day at a time.”

You nod, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “One day at a time.” You pause. “You’d tell me if it’s too much, right?”

“It’s not too much, cari.” Sensing your distress, she reassures you. “But yes, I’ll tell you if something changes.”

You give her a final hug, trying to pour all your gratitude into it. “Now, why don’t we go downstairs before one of your friends starts thinking we’re hooking up,” you say, lightening the mood as you pull away.

You head downstairs, and as you pass her friends on your way to the living room, you catch their suggestive smirks, making you blush lightly while Aitana rolls her eyes at them. You help her get everything ready and wait for the rest of the guests to arrive.

You figured her teammates knew about your cancer because when they arrived, they weren't shocked to see you without hair and visibly more tired. Aitana vividly remembered how that conversation went down.

-

It was three days before her birthday, and Aitana was in the changing room, telling her team about the small get-together she was planning at her home.

“If you want to come, I’m having a small party at my house for my birthday,” she said, inviting everyone. She knew most of the younger girls, except for Pina, Jana, and Bruna, probably wouldn’t show up.

“At home? Don’t you usually do it at a restaurant? Did you have trouble booking a place?” someone asked as most of the uninterested teammates left, leaving Aitana with her captains, the Norwegians, Mapi, Patri, the youngsters, and Rölfo.

“I’d rather do it at home. It’s quieter and we don’t have to overpay for drinks,” she said, making up an excuse. In reality, she knew you couldn’t risk going out to crowded places because of your condition. She preferred to spend her birthday with you.

“I think this has something to do with Y/n. Is she making you stay at home? Is she really jealous or something?” Patri asked, sounding more accusatory than curious.

“Y/n? She’s not that jealous. Why do I get the feeling you don’t like her?” Aitana asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and concern, shifting uncomfortably on her bench.

“We know she must be great, but since you got together, you never hang out with us anymore. You don’t stay after training or join us for breakfast. We’re just worried about you getting too wrapped up in the relationship,” Alexia said, her voice full of concern and care.

“She’s not making me stay home. I basically force her to hang out with me. If she knew I was skipping hangouts, she’d force me to go out with you guys,” Aitana defended your intentions, trying to make them understand you weren’t restricting her.

“Then why don’t you hang out with us anymore?” Patri pressed. “Did we do something wrong?”

Aitana sighed, feeling the weight of her friends' concerns. She knew they meant well but didn’t understand the full picture. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not about you. It’s just... Y/n has been going through a lot.” Her friends’ confused expressions spurred her on. “Y/n has cancer. And before you say anything, I knew before we got together.”

The room fell silent. Mapi’s eyes widened with shock and empathy. “Aitana, we had no idea. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“At first, I thought it was Y/n’s right to tell who she wanted about her cancer, but then she said it was best if you knew, since you’d probably meet her properly someday.”

Patri nodded, her skepticism replaced with concern. “We’re sorry if we made you feel judged. We just miss you and want to be there for you. How can we help?”

Aitana chuckled. “Well, unless you can find a magical cure for cancer, there’s not much you can do. But if it’s not too much to ask, just being there for us would mean the world.”

-

As soon as they saw you hand in hand with Aitana, two girls approached you. One was insanely tall, and the other had tattoos all over her arms.

“Hi, you must be Y/N?” the tall one said.

“Yeah, that’s me. You must be Ingrid and Mapi, right?” you asked, shaking their hands.

You noticed Mapi’s tattoos and recognized some of the designs. “I love your tattoos. Do you go to Javi?”

“Yeah! How did you know?” she looked surprised.

“We went to school together. He’s one of my best friends. I helped him out with some designs.”

“Oh, that’s awesome! He mentioned a friend helped with some designs, but I never imagined it was you,” Mapi exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Javi is amazing. He did this sleeve for me,” she said, showing off the intricate designs on her arm. “It’s one of my favorites.”

You recognized some of your own designs. “I did the skull with the lightbulb and the squirrel!”

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Mapi said excitedly. “The skull with the lightbulb is one of my favorites. And the squirrel is such a fun piece!”

You smiled, feeling proud. “I’m really glad you like them. It’s always nice to see my work out in the world.”

Aitana turned to you with a surprised smile. “I didn’t know you could draw!”

You shrugged modestly, feeling bashful under Aitana’s gaze. “It’s just a hobby. Javi and I used to spend hours sketching together before getting busy with work.”

Ingrid looked impressed. “A hobby? You’ve got real talent. You should definitely do more with it. I know for sure that Mapi would love a few more tattoos.”

“Do you have any tattoos?” Mapi asked curiously.

You blushed lightly. “I have three.” Aitana's head snapped towards you, her eyes wide with surprise.

“What?!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never seen them.”

“Don’t act too surprised, Tani. They’re well hidden.” You turned to Mapi and Ingrid, who were waiting for you to continue. “I have one that’s a one-inch line from my favorite movie, *V for Vendetta*: The second one is a quote, and the third... well, it’s a bit more hidden. Let’s just say that.” You winked at Aitana.

You got your first two tattoos when you were 18. The first was significant to you, a permanent reminder of something important. The second was more cheeky, known only to those who’ve seen you naked and your friend Eva. It was a small outline of a heart on one of your ass cheeks. Your third tattoo was one of your favorite quotes from the painter Artemisia Gentileschi: “You will find the spirit of Caesar in this soul of a woman.”

Aitana looked like she wanted to say more, but as soon as you saw Ciro come inside, you quickly excused yourself to greet him.

“I’m going to say hi to Ciro.” You turned to Aitana, giving her a lingering kiss, not too long to draw attention. Then you turned to her teammates. “It was lovely to meet you guys. I hope we can talk more about some tattoo ideas.” You walked away, hugging your brother.

Mapi and Ingrid turned to Aitana, who was still looking at you, smiling to herself.

Ingrid chuckled at Aitana’s state, making her turn her attention to her teammates. “Sorry.” She bowed her head, her cheeks turning rosy. “You really love her, don’t you?”

Aitana’s blush deepened, and she couldn’t help but smile even wider. “Yeah, I really do,” she admitted warmly. “She’s amazing. I’m still finding out new things about her every day, and I love it. Plus, she’s so strong and fearless.” She glanced at you, laughing with your brother. “I can’t believe she’s my girl. She’s just incredible.”

“And so hot!” Mapi said without thinking, earning a death glare from her own girlfriend.

“She is! It’s so frustrating sometimes,” Aitana agreed, laughing.

-

Meanwhile, you were grabbing drinks with Ciro when the nausea hit again. Not wanting to make a scene, you excused yourself and headed to the bathroom to throw up. Ciro quickly noticed something was wrong and followed you.

He knocked on the door. "It's Ciro, can you let me in?"

You sighed and unlocked the door. Another wave of nausea hit, and you doubled over the toilet, trying to keep quiet. Ciro crouched next to you, rubbing your back soothingly. Once the wave passed, you leaned back against the wall, exhausted.

"Y/N, this is serious," Ciro said quietly, concern on his face. "You need to tell Aitana."

You shook your head weakly. "Not tonight, Ciro. It's her birthday party. I don't want to ruin it."

"How long has this been going on?" he asked, continuing to rub your back.

"Since this morning. I took a painkiller because all my joints are killing me. Why did it have to be today?" You looked up at the ceiling, exasperated.

Ciro sighed deeply. "Y/N, you can't keep pushing yourself like this. You need to take care of yourself, even if it means taking a step back tonight."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I know, Ciro. But I just want Aitana to have a perfect night. She's been looking forward to this for so long."

Ciro gave you a sympathetic look. "I get it. But she loves you and would want you to be okay more than anything else. Let's get you through tonight, and then you need to rest. Promise me."

"Okay," you agreed reluctantly. "I promise."

Ciro helped you to your feet, and you steadied yourself before brushing your teeth. You tried to put on a brave face, but the exhaustion and nausea were hard to hide.

As you reentered the party, Aitana immediately noticed something was off. She walked over, concern on her face. "Hey, are you sure you're okay? You don't look well."

You gave her a reassuring smile, even though you felt far from it. "I'm okay, just a bit tired. Don't worry about me, let's enjoy your party."

You went to the kitchen for some water and then stepped outside for fresh air. Ciro followed, keeping an eye on you.

Outside, you lit a cigarette, something you hadn't done in years, and slowly inhaled, feeling a calming effect. You knew it was wrong, but you needed some relief.

“You must be the art restorer?” one of Aitana’s teammates asked.

You turned to her. “That’s me.”

“I’m Alexia.”

"Tani’s team captain. I’ve heard about you… Please don’t tell her I smoke. It’s my first in years."

“Do you have another one?” she asked, surprising you with the request.

You hesitated before handing her the pack. Alexia took one and lit it, taking a slow drag before exhaling. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the cool night air providing some relief.

"Thanks," Alexia said softly. "I won't tell Aitana. We all have our vices."

You nodded, taking another drag. "Yeah, we do."

Alexia studied you for a moment. "So, how long have you been an art restorer?"

You smiled, grateful for the distraction. "About six years now. It's my passion, bringing old pieces back to life."

She nodded appreciatively. "That's really cool. Aitana talks about you all the time. It's obvious how much she cares about you."

Your heart ached at her words. "I care about her too. More than anything."

Alexia smiled, taking another drag. "It's great to see. She's special, and she deserves someone who loves her as much as you do."

You nodded, feeling the weight of your secret pressing on you. The night air, mixed with the cigarette smoke, made you slightly dizzy, but you steadied yourself. "Thanks, Alexia. That means a lot coming from you."

The two of you stood in comfortable silence for a while, just taking in the night and the muffled sounds of the party inside.

"So, what brought you out here, really?" Alexia asked, breaking the silence. "You don't seem like the type to sneak out for a smoke."

You hesitated, the truth bubbling up inside you. "I hate meeting new people. I have to charge my social battery." You chuckled.

“Tell me about it. I have to endure hours of media every week.”

You both finished your cigarettes. Alexia handed you a mint chewing gum, and the two of you headed back inside.

Everyone was mingling in small groups. You were about to speak when you felt a body collide with yours in a hug.

“Damn, Tani, you still have energy at 11 PM!” You chuckled, pulling her into a tight hug.

She shrugged. “I was searching for you everywhere. I missed you!”

“I was with Alexia, getting some fresh air, Tani,” you reassured her. You could see in her eyes that she wanted some attention, so you quickly said your goodbyes to Alexia and focused on the birthday girl.

She took your hand and led you to the living room, where some friends were chatting. She sat down on the couch and pulled you onto her lap, circling her arms around your waist.

"You know, I think I missed you more," you teased, leaning in to kiss her softly.

Aitana laughed, her eyes twinkling. "That's impossible. But I'll let you think that."

The warmth of her embrace and the lively chatter around you made it easier to forget about everything else for a moment. You nestled into her, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your back.

The room was filled with laughter and light, and for a while, you allowed yourself to relax and enjoy the festivities.

“So, tell me more about this art restoration,” Fridolina, one of Aitana’s friends, piped up. “I’ve always been fascinated by that kind of work.”

You smiled, grateful for the distraction. “It’s incredibly rewarding. There’s something magical about bringing old, forgotten pieces back to life.”

“That sounds amazing,” Ingrid chimed in, her eyes wide with interest. “Do you have a favorite piece you’ve worked on?”

You thought for a moment. “There was this old Renaissance painting that came into the studio a few years ago. It was in terrible shape, covered in grime and with a lot of damage. It was from Artemisia Gentileschi, a very particular painter. She was one of the few female artists of her time, and her works are incredibly powerful and brutal. Restoring her painting felt like reviving a piece of her story.”

Aitana’s friends listened intently, clearly captivated by your passion. Aitana squeezed your hand, her pride in you evident.

"Which painting was it?" Fridolina asked, leaning forward with interest.

"It was 'Judith Slaying Holofernes.' The details, the intensity in Judith’s expression, and the dramatic use of light and shadow—it’s breathtaking. Bringing that piece back to its original glory was one of the most fulfilling experiences of my career."

"Wow," Ingrid said, visibly impressed. "It must be amazing to see the transformation up close."

"It is," you agreed. "There’s something almost intimate about it, like connecting with the artist across centuries."

The conversation flowed easily, with Aitana’s friends asking more questions about your work and sharing their own interests. The night wore on, filled with laughter and joy.

As the party began to wind down and the majority of the guests left, you found a quiet moment with Aitana on the balcony. The city lights illuminated the ambient below, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves around you.

“Thank you for tonight. I know you were feeling sick and kept going for me. Next time, please don’t do it.”

You gave her a reassuring smile, taking her hands in yours. “I wanted to be here for you, Tani. You mean the world to me. But I promise, I’ll take better care of myself. I won’t push it next time.”

She sighed, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I just worry about you. I want you to be okay.”

“I know, and I appreciate it,” you said, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be more careful. I don’t want to worry you.”

Aitana looked up at you, her eyes filled with love and concern. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” you whispered, pulling her into a tight embrace. “We’ll get through this together, I promise.”

The two of you stood there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding solace in the quiet night and the love you shared. Despite the challenges ahead, you felt a renewed sense of strength and determination, knowing that you had Aitana by your side.

After a few moments, Aitana pulled back slightly and looked into your eyes. “Let’s go inside and get some rest. You need it.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

As you walked back into the apartment, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for Aitana and the love you shared. It gave you the strength to face whatever lay ahead, knowing that together, you could overcome anything.

You both went to the bedroom and got ready to sleep. You wore one of Aitana’s joggers and a shirt you brought for the sleepover. Aitana came out from the bathroom after getting into her sleepwear and sat on the bed, taking off her earrings.

After a couple of minutes, she turned to you, seeing you already sitting on the bed, setting your alarm clock. She rolled over to you with a waiting gaze, clearly wanting to ask you something.

“What?”

“You could have told me that you had three tattoos.” She pouted slightly.

“Well, you never asked.” You smirked playfully.

“Now I’m asking. Can I see them?”

You hesitated. Your first tattoo, the line, was right under your breast, the second one was on your side, and the third... you definitely wanted to wait for her to see it.

You were nervous about showing her your body, as she had never seen you without a shirt on. The changes from cancer and seeing Aitana’s teammates tonight had made you feel inadequate. 

Aitana noticed your hesitation, her expression softening. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to show me if you’re not comfortable,” she said gently, reaching out to take your hand.

You took a deep breath, deciding to take a step forward in vulnerability. “It’s not that I don’t want to show you… it’s just, you’ve never seen me without a shirt, so I guess I’m a little bit scared?” You tried to be honest with her.

Aitana’s eyes widened in surprise and concern. “Why would you be scared? I think you are beautiful, both in and out.”

You looked down, feeling a lump in your throat. “My body… it’s changed a lot because of the cancer. I don’t look the same as I used to, and seeing your teammates tonight just made me feel… inadequate.”

Aitana’s grip on your hand tightened, and she pulled you into a hug. “Y/N, you’re beautiful to me. You’ve been through so much, and I admire your strength. I don’t care about how your body looks; I care about you, the person I fell in love with.”

Her words were like a balm to your anxious mind. You took another deep breath and decided to trust her completely. “Okay. I’ll show you.”

You raised your shirt, stopping just before your breast, showing her the first tattoo. She lightly traced the ink with adoration.

“The second one is on the side, it’s a quote.” You revealed it. “Troverete lo spirito di Cesare in questa anima di donna.” You repeated the quote. “Which means: You will find the spirit of Caesar in this soul of a woman.” She lightly caressed your side where the quote showed.

“They are all beautiful. Damn, I didn’t think you’d be someone who had tattoos.”

“I guess you don’t know everything about me then.”

“What about your third?”

“Well, that one I got on a whim. Not many people have seen it.” You smirked suggestively.

“Well, now I’m curious.” She was intrigued.

“I won’t show it to you now if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Okay, okay, I respect that. I am a very patient woman; I’ll wait. Can you just tell me where it is?” She pleaded curiously.

“I’ll tell you this, the only people who have seen it are Eva, because I was with her when I got it, and the people who have seen me naked.”

Aitana's eyes widened with curiosity and a hint of playfulness. "Well, now you have me even more intrigued," she said, chuckling. "But I can wait. It’ll make it all the more special when I do see it."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. Her understanding and patience were just a few of the many reasons you loved her so much. "I promise you’ll see it when the time is right," you said softly.

Aitana leaned in and kissed you gently. "I look forward to it. Thank you for sharing this with me tonight. It means a lot.”

As you both settled into bed, you positioned yourself on top of her to give her one final kiss. “Good night, Tani. I hope you had fun tonight.” You rolled over to your side, getting into a comfy position to sleep, while your girlfriend was already half asleep.

She replied lazily and almost unconsciously. “I had fun, good night Cari. I love you.” You widened your eyes as a smile crept on your cheeks.

-

Three months into your relationship, you couldn’t be happier. Your cancer was receding, and you were nearly finished with your fifth cycle of chemo before discussing the next steps with your doctor.

Three days before Aitana was set to leave for Bilbao for the Copa de la Reina semi-final, you visited the doctor’s office. Ciro took a day off work to accompany you. Your oncologist, who was serious but supportive, greeted you.

“So, Y/N, I have good news and bad news.” Your heart skipped a beat. “Good news: your cancer is receding. The treatment is going great, and I think we should operate, perform a thyroidectomy as soon as possible. Thursday would be ideal.”

You sighed in relief, almost at the end of this ordeal.

“The bad news is the position of the cancer. We might be able to remove it completely, but there are risks. Your cancer is very close to your vocal cords. You might lose your voice.”

You had never considered that possibility. “What’s the probability it might go wrong?” you asked fearfully.

“30%. I know it’s a significant risk, but it’s the best solution. We can fully remove it. No more chemo, no more suffering.” Seeing your hesitation, he added, “I won’t ask you to decide right now. Take some hours to think about it. But the sooner we act, the better.”

Your doctor left the room to give you some privacy.

You turned to Ciro. “I don’t think there’s any real choice, is there?”

“No, there isn’t, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

After informing your doctor that you agreed to the operation, you headed home, while Ciro had to return to work for training. 

Thirty minutes later, you heard a knock on your door. Knowing it was probably Aitana, you opened it to find her holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers that hid her face. She peeked out, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Surprise!” she said, handing you the flowers.

You hugged her. “You really know how to make a girl swoon, Tani.”

“Only for you.” You took the flowers and kissed her in gratitude.

You led her inside and prepared a snack for both of you. She sat on the couch, waiting. As you sat down next to her, she leaned in for another kiss. “What was that for?” you asked.

“Can’t I kiss my beautiful girlfriend?”

“Anytime you like.”

“How was the doctor’s appointment?” she asked as you cuddled up.

You sat up. “The treatment is working, and they want to operate. My cancer is receding, and it might go away completely with the operation.” Your tone wasn’t as optimistic as your words.

She sensed there was more. “That’s great! But why do you look so worried? Is there a but?”

“Two. First, the surgery is on Thursday during the Copa de la Reina semi-final. And before you say anything, no, I won’t let you skip it. You’ve already missed two matches because of me, without even telling me.”

“And the other?” she asked, defeated.

“I might lose my voice.”

Aitana’s eyes widened with concern. “But if it’s your best shot at beating cancer, wouldn’t you take it?”

“I’ve already agreed, Aitana. But that’s not the point. Promise me something?”

“Anything,” she said seriously.

"You'll leave me if I lose my voice, okay?"

She blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"I don’t want you to be with someone you have to constantly take care of. You deserve so much better."

"No, no, no," she said, shaking her head and taking your hands. "You can’t ask me that. I won’t leave you. You’re stuck with me, okay?"

You chuckled, feeling a lump in your throat. "I’m doing this for you. This is an out. Why can’t you take it?"

"Because I don’t want to!" she said, almost angrily. "Don’t push me away, please."

"I’m not pushing you away. I’m doing this for you. You deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you everything. And right now, I can’t. For god’s sake, we’ve been together for five months, and I can’t even take my shirt off in front of you!" you reasoned, your frustration mounting.

She looked shocked, almost taken aback. "Is... Is this about sex?"

You hid your face in your palms. "No... I mean... I don’t know," you stuttered.

"No. No, Cari, sex has never been an issue for me. You’re going through cancer; it’s normal that you don’t want to have sex."

"I know, but what about your needs?"

"My needs? I’ve waited eighteen years of my life without sex. I can deal with waiting for a while," she reassured you. "Plus, the wait will make it even better!"

"You know, I’d get it if you wanted to find someone else to be physical with. I wouldn’t blame you."

"And kiss someone else? Touch someone else? Make someone else feel good? Never," she reassured you. "You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. You make me so happy. Why would I jeopardize that for some fleeting pleasure?"

"You always say that I’m beautiful. But... Do you find me hot?" you almost whispered the last part.

Aitana's expression softened, and she cupped your face gently, her thumb tracing your cheek. 

"Y/N, you are the most gorgeous person I know. You’re beautiful, inside and out. And yes, I find you incredibly hot."

You still looked unconvinced, so she quickly made you sit on her lap and unzipped her hoodie, remaining in her shirt. She took your hand and guided it inside her shirt next to her heart. It was beating fast.

"Do you feel it? This is what you do to me. Whenever you sit on my lap or nibble that part of my ear that you know is so sensitive, you make my heart race out of proportion. And so fucking wet that it hurts sometimes." You chuckled, feeling her heart pounding. "Don’t ever doubt my attraction or my loyalty towards you," she told you firmly, making you believe her. You nodded. "And don’t you dare think for even a minute that I’ll leave you if you lose your voice. We’re in this together, and we’ll find a solution together," she said resolutely.

-

-

On Wednesday, the day before the game, Aitana brought you to the hospital and helped you check in. 

You sat on the hospital bed, waiting for your doctor. "I’ll be here as soon as the game finishes, okay? Tell Ciro to send me updates, or else I’ll kill him." She kissed your temple and was about to leave when you took her hand to stop her.

"I want to tell you something. Maybe tomorrow I won’t be able to. I know I’ve never said it; I’ve always waited."

"You’ll tell me when I get back."

"No, please, Tani, let me say it. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t tell you right now." She nodded. "I love you, Aitana Bonmatí. Today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and all the days after that."

"I love you too, Cari." She rubbed her nose against yours and kissed you on the lips. 

"Go and beat Athletic’s club ass, okay?”

--

Needless to say, until she saw you again, Aitana couldn’t keep her mind off you. Her teammates noticed she wasn't focused on the game, and Mapi pulled her aside during the warm-up.

"Hey, Aitana, are you okay?" Fridolina asked, concern evident in her voice.

Aitana sighed, running a hand through her hair. "No, not really. Y/N is having surgery right now, and I can't stop thinking about it. I'm worried."

Frido placed a comforting hand on Aitana's shoulder. "I get it, but you have to try and focus on the game for now. She'd want you to give it your all out there. Besides, we're all here for you. If you need anything, just let us know."

Aitana nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Frido. I'll try my best."

As the game progressed, Aitana pushed herself to concentrate, channeling her anxiety into her performance. Every time she made a play, she thought of you, imagining how proud you'd be. Despite the distraction, she played one of her best games, driven by the desire to make you proud.

When the final whistle blew, Barcelona had secured a resounding victory. Aitana immediately checked her phone, finding a message from Ciro: “Surgery is done. We don’t know anything right now.”

Fear washed over her, and her hands started to tremble as her mind filled with what-ifs. She looked down at the bracelet you had gifted her, seeking comfort. She couldn’t lose you. Most importantly, she needed to get back to you.

She got on the first plane and left for Barcelona.

[cosmogyros]

Ummmmm I couldn't restrain myself, I spent all of yesterday afternoon spontaneously writing a thing (a continuation of "Some Like It Hot", immediately subsequent to the famous last scene of that movie)

(if you haven't seen it, you really should)

(this is not edited or researched or anything, it's just impulsive, I can't even believe I'm posting it omg)

(the prologue is the verbatim ending of the actual film script; everything after that is mine)

(spoilers for the ending of Some Like It Hot, obviously)

The Woman in My Life

PROLOGUE

Swooping down from the beach on a bicycle comes Sugar, pumping like mad. The bicycle bounces down the steps, and Sugar pedals across the planking, sounding her HORN.

Osgood and Jerry have settled themselves in the front seat of the motorboat, and Joe is getting into the rear seat when he hears the SOUND of the bicycle HORN. He looks back.

Osgood starts the motor. Sugar comes racing up the stairs to the pier, leans over the railing.

SUGAR (calling down)

Wait for Sugar!

She hurries toward the other staircase.

In the motorboat, Osgood turns to Jerry.

OSGOOD

Another bridesmaid?

JERRY

Flower girl.

Sugar comes charging down the stairs, starts to get into the rear seat beside Joe.

JOE

Sugar! What do you think you're doing?

SUGAR

I told you, I’m not very bright.

JERRY (clapping Osgood on the back)

Let's go!

The motorboat takes off with a ROAR.

EXT. MOTORBOAT - NIGHT

In the back seat, Joe is removing his wig and coat.

JOE

You don't want me, Sugar. I’m a liar and a phony—a saxophone player— one of those no-goodniks you've been running away from…

SUGAR

I know. (hitting her head) Every time!

JOE

Do yourself a favor. Go back where the millionaires are. The sweet end of the lollipop—not the coleslaw in the face and the old socks and the squeezed-out tube of toothpaste—

SUGAR

That's right, pour it on. (twines her arms around his neck) Talk me out of it.

She kisses him resoundingly, bending him over backwards till they are both practically out of sight.

Up front, Osgood is blithely steering the boat, keeping his eyes straight ahead. Jerry is looking over his shoulder at the activities in the back seat.

OSGOOD

I called Mama—she was so happy she cried! She wants you to have her wedding gown. It’s white lace.

JERRY (steeling himself)

Osgood, I can't get married in your mother's dress. She and I— we’re not built the same way.

OSGOOD

We can have it altered.

JERRY (firmly)

Oh, no you don't! Look, Osgood— I'm going to level with you. We can't get married at all.

OSGOOD

Why not?

JERRY

Well, to begin with, I'm not a natural blonde.

OSGOOD (tolerantly)

It doesn't matter.

JERRY

And I smoke. I smoke all the time.

OSGOOD

I don't care.

JERRY

And I have a terrible past. For three years now, I've been living with a saxophone player.

OSGOOD

I forgive you.

JERRY (with growing desperation)

And I can never have children.

OSGOOD

We'll adopt some.

JERRY

But you don't understand!

(he rips off his wig; in a male voice)

I'm a MAN!

OSGOOD (oblivious)

Well, nobody's perfect.

Jerry looks at Osgood, who is grinning from ear to ear, claps his hand to his forehead. How is he going to get himself out of this?

But that's another story—and we're not quite sure the public is ready for it.

~~~

ANOTHER STORY

When they reached the yacht, the crew were all present at their stations, of course—it wasn’t Thursday night any more, and their shore leave was over. But none of them blinked an eye when their employer arrived with his unexpected retinue. Money can buy a lot of good manners. Osgood had commanded them to be ready to weigh anchor at a moment’s notice, because he intended to elope with his beautiful bride that very night. And indeed there was a very attractive woman with him… but there were also two other people. Apparently men. Although it wasn’t quite clear.

Joe had roughly wiped off his makeup and was still in the suit he’d swiped from the old man in the wheelchair, covered up by Josephine’s coat (he’d tossed his wig from the motorboat in a moment of being otherwise occupied with Sugar). Jerry, meanwhile, was wearing the bell boy’s too-small uniform with Daphne’s coat over it, and seemed too dazed to be aware of the fact that he was holding his wig in his hand. Both of them were in high heels. Earlier, in the hotel elevator, they’d had to hurriedly remove their trousers, which would have looked suspiciously incongruous under their feminine overcoats.

As if this wasn’t odd enough, the first officer of the New Caledonia thought, while dashing around giving orders and preparing their immediate departure, it wasn’t actually the beautiful woman who was on Osgood’s arm, but one of the men. But he was paid far too well to express any concerns about this state of affairs, and he turned his mind decorously to his duties.

As Osgood, not quite preening like a peacock anymore but still determinedly upbeat, led his three guests to the salon, Joe was blissfully unaware that Jerry was trying very hard to get his attention. Sugar was Joe’s whole world at that moment. She wanted him? Despite his lies and tricks, despite him being poor as a church mouse, despite him being… just another saxophone player? She still wanted him? He was walking on clouds. She stayed cuddled up to him, gazing at him worshipfully as if she couldn’t believe he was real.

“Do put that wig back on,” Osgood suggested to Jerry, holding the door for him like a gentleman. “It suits you.”

Jerry was too stunned to do anything but obey as he stepped into the interior of the boat. He automatically fixed his curls around his ears. He had not expected this turn of events. From the very start, he’d believed he held a trump card. He’d been certain that he could simply reveal his true gender whenever he wanted, and instantly be freed from this farce. Sure, Osgood treated him well (even if the old man was a bit saucy at times), and could dance divinely, and the prospect of marrying into wealth was a very tempting one to a chronically broke musician. But… but it had never been REAL, of course. At some point, he’d been telling himself all along, he was going to play that trump card, and then, poof! The castles built on clouds would come tumbling down, he and Joe would catch the next train back to Chicago, and they’d simply go on with their lives.

But the card had turned out to be a dud. Like a firecracker that didn’t go off when you were counting on a big explosion.

“Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy,” Jerry chanted under his breath, through gritted teeth, as he chose a luxurious armchair and settled himself in it, knees together like a proper lady (because he had nothing but underwear on his lower half, beneath the overcoat.)

As Osgood busied himself getting drinks for everyone—he did indeed have multiple stewards, but he had also been raised right, and it was a matter of course for him to prepare drinks for his guests personally—Joe and Sugar took seats very close together on the same sofa where they’d had such a diverting time last night.

“Sugar, listen,” Joe started in a low tone, still ignorant of Jerry’s subtle attempts to catch his eye. “You know I’ve got nothing, right?”

“I know. You’re a saxophone player,” she breathed, as if teasingly reprimanding herself.

“Not just a saxophone player.” Joe steeled himself. “A broke saxophone player. I haven’t got a penny to my name. I—” He bit his tongue, but then plunged onward. Might as well lay it all out there. “I gambled away my last paycheck. Betting on dog races.”

“No!” she gasped.

“Afraid so.”

“Well, but that doesn’t matter,” she insisted. “Daphne’s going to marry Osgood, and he’s rich. That means she’ll be rich soon, too. She can help us out.”

“She’s a he!” Joe reminded her, irritated. “They can’t get married.”

“Oh, right.” She was dismayed, but put on a charming smile as Osgood brought her a glass, having naturally served his fiancée first.

~~~

Joe and Jerry didn’t get a chance to speak in private until a few hours later. Despite having suffered rather a shock in the motorboat, Osgood seemed to be handling it with remarkable aplomb. He was an exquisite host and insisted on providing his guests with every comfort they could desire, despite the fact that he barely knew most of their names and genders. As the yacht headed away from the hotel and down the coast at high speed, the four of them sat down to an elegant dinner, and the delectable food went a long way towards settling various tumultuous emotions.

Each individual received their own private bedroom suite—after all, the yacht could sleep twelve, and an unmarried couple sharing a bedroom was not the done thing. After everyone had bid everyone else good night, Jerry waited long enough for the boat to grow quiet around him, and then dashed down the passageway to Joe’s room and hammered on the door until his friend opened up.

“Will you cut it out?” Joe hissed. “You’re gonna wake up the whole place.”

“Listen, Joe, we gotta talk!”

“Fine. Get in here.”

Inside the suite, Jerry—who hadn’t even thought to de-Daphne himself yet—turned pleading eyes on his buddy. “What am I gonna do? I’m doomed! I told him I’m a man and he didn’t even blink.”

“Calm down, will you?” Joe sat slowly down on the bed, his mind racing. He was still thinking about what Sugar had said earlier. It was too darn bad Daphne wasn’t real, because her marrying Osgood and then giving Joe and Sugar a nice little something to get started with… boy, that idea was appealing. Jerry had always been a soft touch—Joe knew how to sweet-talk it out of him. But you couldn’t talk nothing out of an empty pocket. He gave Jerry a considering glance.

“Say something!” Jerry pleaded.

“Okay, look.” Joe stood up. “No need to panic. You’re not about to get married tomorrow. We’ve got plenty of time to get you untangled. And in the meantime, you said he treats you good, right?”

“Very good,” Jerry admitted, wretchedly. “But what if—”

“Shut up, I’m thinking.” Joe jammed his hands into his pockets and paced up and down in the small amount of space available for pacing. Finally, he stopped, and tapped his friend on the chest. “I’ve got it. It’s easy. It’s straight-forward. Remember what you said back in our hotel room? Alimony!”

“Ali—what?” Jerry was at a loss. “But that’s when he still thought I was—”

“No, no, stay with me. He still wants to marry you, right?”

“But you said yourself,” Jerry protested, “There are laws and all that sort of thing! We can’t get married!”

“But he wants to. And from what I’ve seen so far of Osgood Fielding the Third, what he wants, he gets. There’s nothing money can’t buy, right? This guy is rolling in the stuff. And he wants to spend it on you!”

Jerry couldn’t stop himself from simpering like Daphne for a moment. “That’s true.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “And you don’t even seem to mind that much.”

“I certainly do!” Jerry glared at his friend. “I don’t want to marry a guy. Who do you think I am?”

“Easy, easy,” Joe soothed him. “Who do I think you are? A flat broke musician who needs dough. Just like me. We’re in this together, okay? This is what I’m thinking.” He began pacing again, gesturing with excitement. “You stay Daphne. For now,” he added quickly, to stem the argument before it started. “Only for now. You play along, you live it up, you get showered with expensive gifts, yadda yadda yadda. The good life.”

Jerry’s eyes were increasingly large and anxious and he seemed about to speak again, so Joe took his friend by the shoulders and employed his most persuasive tone, a few shades off from the one he typically used with Nellie.

“You don’t have to do anything. Just let yourself be pampered. Meanwhile, Sugar and I will stick to you like glue—she’s gonna be, what, the flower girl, was it?—and we try to get in good with your fiancé. You know, butter him up, help with wedding prep, make ourselves useful.”

He stood back and threw his arms wide. “And the rest is simple. Get married. Demand a divorce. He’ll have to agree to your terms, because if he doesn’t, you can expose him to the whole world as having married a man! His family are big names in business, I’ve been doing some asking around. They wouldn’t want that kind of scandal, believe you me.”

“Expose them?!” Jerry seethed. “How about exposing me, huh? I don’t want that kind of scandal for myself, either!”

“Don’t be silly, no one knows who you are. You’re nobody. He’s somebody. That’s how scandal works, it only hurts you if you’re somebody. You’ll basically be able to blackmail him at that point.” Joe’s eyes were glittering, reflecting imaginary dollar signs. “Tell him you’ll leave without making a ruckus only if you get an immediate divorce and a nice fat alimony package. He’ll have no choice.”

Triumphantly, he sat back down on the bed. “And then we’ve got it made. You get the money, split it with me, I can marry Sugar and we’ll be set for life.”

“Yeah, you get the girl and the money,” Jerry grumbled. “I get to BE the girl and STEAL the money.”

“It’s not stealing!” Joe sprang up again to give his pal a rallying slap on the back. “Think of it as… redistribution.”

~~~

Mama Fielding gazed at her prodigal son and his latest acquisition with a combination of relief and concern. Relief because at last he’d found what seemed by all accounts to be a truly decent young woman, not one of these showgirl floozies. Concern because the girl in question was both taller and broader than Osgood himself. And her facial features were a bit… well… angular.

Still, it was long past time for the aging playboy to settle down, and Mrs. Fielding was thanking her lucky stars that this one had a reputable pedigree. A graduate of the Sheboygan Conservatory of Music (perhaps a pianist?), if she was correctly recalling what Osgood had told her on the telephone; and apparently quite a lady—the kind who wouldn’t put up with freshness in a fellow. She’ll have her hands full with Ozzie, then, Mrs. Fielding thought with a sigh, and stepped forward to greet her future daughter-in-law.

“Dear Daphne. Such a pleasure to welcome you to the family.” My goodness, but the girl had large hands. Pianist hands, no doubt. She also seemed exceedingly nervous, but managed to bob a curtsey and offer a strained smile.

“The pleasure’s all mine.”

“I hear you’re a talented musician? Come, join me in the parlor. I am so looking forward to getting to know you, my dear.”

This sounded almost more like a threat than anything else, and with a gulp, Daphne walked bravely into the lion’s den.

~~~

Sugar and Joe had made themselves so useful, indeed, that they had been granted the dreaded and respected honor of writing the invitation cards for the wedding. Mama Fielding had not yet discovered that the sum total of the bride’s guests was two, neither one related to her, but that bridge would be crossed when they came to it.

“What’s Daphne’s surname?” Sugar asked, folding an invitation carefully.

Joe looked up and rubbed his eyes, already tired of this monotonous task. “She—she doesn’t have one. You keep forgetting, that’s not her real name, she just made it up! I mean, he!”

He found this happening more and more often these days. It was as if Jerry and Daphne were two different people in his mind, each one as real as the other, and it was with increasing effort that he kept reminding himself Daphne was a fictional character, an invention, a figment.

“But what are we gonna put on the invitations?” Sugar’s eyes were wide.

“Nothing, because she’s not sending any,” Joe replied. “The only people sh—HE is inviting are you and me, and we don’t need to send invitations to ourselves.”

“Might look better if we did,” she pointed out.

“Who cares how it looks?” Joe argued, automatically lowering his voice although he was almost certain no one could hear them in this distant drawing room in the Fieldings’ sprawling upstate countryside manor. “This marriage is gonna last about two and a half days, if all goes as planned.”

“I know.” Sugar sighed. “It’s just too bad. They seem so happy together.”

“Happy?!” Joe scoffed. “Baby, come on. How could they be happy with the situation? They’re both men.”

She shrugged, pouting a little at his tone, and Joe noticed and immediately changed gears.

“Aw, don’t gimme that,” he teased, sliding up next to her. “You want something to think about that’ll cheer you up? Just imagine, when we get our hands on that money, everything we’re gonna do with it. I’ll buy you a Rolls-Royce… a yacht of your own… you ever been up in an airplane?”

“No,” she admitted with a giggle. “What are you—”

But Joe was on a roll and couldn’t be stopped, finding new areas of her hair and cheek and neck to whisper his big plans into. “Champagne and caviar for dinner… champagne and… eggs… for breakfast… and for lunch… uh… champagne and champagne?”

Not many more invitations were finished for a little while, and one of them whose ink hadn’t dried yet even got smudged and needed to be re-written later.

~~~

Osgood stepped into Daphne’s room the next morning to find her still wigless and in the process of applying her make-up. As any proper gentleman would, he promptly turned around and faced the wall to give her some privacy.

“What do you want?” came a tired masculine voice behind him, from the vicinity of the vanity table.

Osgood clucked his tongue in displeasure. “Now, now. If you talk to me like that, I’m walking right out of here.”

“Good. Walk out, then.” But this time, despite the words, the voice sounded more convincingly feminine, and Osgood smiled in satisfaction at the wallpaper in front of him.

“That’s more like it. You know, my dear, I can buy you as many wigs as you want. Have you ever tried being a redhead? I think it might suit your complexion.”

Suspended halfway to becoming Daphne, Jerry gazed in bewilderment at his reflection, wondering not for the first time how exactly his life had turned into… this. After a minute, he sighed. “Sure. Why not.” It wasn’t for long, anyhow. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.

“Splendid!” Osgood sounded genuinely thrilled. “Now, what I came to tell you was, a few of my friends have invited us to lunch. They’re simply dying to meet you. How does one o’clock sound?”

~~~

As long as they were staying with the Fieldings, Jerry had to stay in character as Daphne from sunup till sundown, but he seemed to take it in stride and rose to the challenge without too much whining and moaning. But when Joe tried to take his choker, Jerry put his foot down.

He’d returned in high spirits from yet another dinner at which he’d been introduced to innumerable friends of Osgood’s, and Joe, who’d been offering Mrs. Fielding his expert advice on hiring musicians for the wedding, had immediately spotted that Daphne was sporting an enchanting new bejeweled choker. It looked very fetching—and also very valuable.

Having made his excuses as politely and rapidly as possible, Joe stalked after Daphne to her room, and caught her there before she’d even started the laborious evening process of transforming back into Jerry. She was unashamedly admiring herself in the mirror, and when Joe slipped into the room, he was met with a cry of “Look, Joe! He gave me this tonight. Isn’t it just darling!”

“Yeah, very nice.” He stepped closer. “Listen. The way I figure is, that alimony isn’t gonna come through right away—”

“Oh, do you have to talk about alimony right now?” Jerry was still doing the Daphne voice, and now pouting in a girlish way that Joe couldn’t recall ever seeing before when it was just the two of them in private.

“Hey.” He snapped his fingers, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the door was firmly closed. “Get with the program. We’re alone.”

“Ugh.” Dropping the feminine voice, Jerry tore off his wig and frowned miserably at his own reflection for another long moment before turning his glare on his friend. “Well, what is it?”

“What it is is that I got nothing but moths in my wallet, you get me?” Joe stepped closer. “You’re living the life of luxury here, and Sugar and I, well… it’s fine for us as long as we’re Mrs. Fielding’s guests, but she’ll boot us out sooner or later, and then we’ve got nowhere to go.” His eyes zeroed in on the sparkling choker. “I need a little… collateral.”

Jerry snorted. “What are you giving me with ‘collateral’? You don’t—” Then he saw where Joe was looking, and cut himself off, one hand flying to his throat. “Oh no you don’t! This is a gift! Why don’t you get your own rich man, and quit mooching off of mine?”

“Come on, stop acting like you really care about him—”

“Well, why shouldn’t I care about him? He’s a good guy! And he’s been disappointed so many times—you don’t understand. He gets strung along by some cute young thing, but then it turns out she doesn’t have any substance. He needs a real woman, a woman who will treat him right.”

Joe raised his eyes to the ceiling. “In case you’ve forgotten, pal, that’s not you. You’re not a woman.”

“I know!” Jerry sounded half-indignant, half-hopeless. “But I… I’ve been doing a pretty decent job of it so far.” Turning back to the mirror, he snatched up a facecloth, and then paused, looking at his reflection in a different way than he had a moment earlier. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t find me attractive. But… it’s not my opinion that matters, is it?”

“You’re getting off track,” Joe told him. “Let me hock that thing—just for now.” He kept stubbornly speaking over Jerry’s agitation. “Just so we’ve got a little cash in hand until you’ve tied the knot and untied it again, all right? Then we can get it back.”

Jerry’s eyes narrowed to slits and his hand was protectively at his neck again. “You’re not taking it.”

Realizing that threats and force weren’t going to work, Joe sighed and plopped himself down in a chair. “Jerry, buddy, come on. If Mama Fielding kicked us out tomorrow morning, I wouldn’t even be able to buy Sugar dinner tomorrow night. I’m in a tight spot. I know you’re living the rich-lady life now, but surely you haven’t already forgotten what that’s like?”

Jerry visibly softened. “No, I know, I…” He collapsed into his seat at the vanity table, but buried his head in his hands instead of meeting the eyes of his reflection. “Let me see what I can do. I’ll bet I can get some money from him.”

“Now you’re talking!” Joe enthused. “Where does he keep his wallet at night?”

Jerry jerked his head up, eyes blazing with rage. “We are NOT going to steal from my fiancé, you bum! I meant I’ll ask him! Straight-up and honest. Now scram.”

Grinning, Joe threw up both hands in defeat. “All right, fair enough. You win. By the way, you smudged your mascara.”

After he’d left, Jerry sat staring at his strange, mixed-up appearance in the mirror for a solid minute or two before he slowly started to clean off the smeared make-up. Returning to his normal, boring face. Putting Daphne to bed for the night. He remembered words that seemed to come from half a lifetime ago, and spoke them under his breath: “I’m a boy… I’m a boy… I wish I were dead… I’m a boy…”

~~~

The generous Osgood agreed to help support his fiancée’s dear friends with a little something now, and maybe a little something later… but Daphne didn’t feel comfortable coming to him with the same request again and again, and meanwhile the wedding was approaching at top speed. It wasn’t a traditional elopement, because there would be guests and a “proper do”, as Mrs. Fielding called it, but it wasn’t exactly a traditional wedding either, for reasons known only to the bride and the groom and two other members of the wedding party.

Jerry got cold feet two nights before the big day and came skittering to Joe’s room in the middle of the night. “What if they find out?”

“Who?” Joe was half asleep and confused.

“I don’t know! The cops! The department of public morality! Anyone!”

“I don’t think that’s a department.” Joe yawned. “Anyway, how could they find out? It’s not like somebody’s gonna run up the aisle in the middle of you saying your vows and pull up your skirt and check.”

Jerry, in full Daphne mode despite it being the middle of the night and his appearance being fully masculine at the moment, almost swooned with horror at this mental image and had to be helped back to his room. All the while, Joe was on edge at the thought that a member of the household might choose this moment to step out of their room and discover him guiding what appeared to be a strange man down the hallway to Daphne’s bedroom.

But not only did their deception go undetected that night, it did two days later, as well, at a ceremony that was charming if modest (by the Fieldings’ standards; Sugar was starry-eyed over all the glamor) and attended by “just a few” (forty or fifty) close friends.

The diminutive size of the bride’s party had been explained away successfully. Daphne, who had started to develop a real friendship with her future mother-in-law, had found herself with no choice but to admit that she played the double bass, not the piano, and she skillfully wove this into a sob story about being disowned by her family for her unconventional choice of instrument. It was a risky move, but it turned out that Mrs. Fielding considered jazz music to be just bordering on acceptable, and she was very sympathetic to this poor girl, all alone in the world.

The bride was perhaps not exactly blushing and blossoming, but cut an impressive figure in Mrs. Fielding’s artfully expanded white lace gown, and the groom was radiant with pride.

Joe couldn’t quite figure that part out. He leaned over to Sugar and whispered, “He looks like he’s actually happy about it.”

“Who?” she whispered back.

“Who d’ya think I mean by ‘he’? The groom, of cou—” He stopped himself. He’d done it again.

Sugar’s eyes were sparkling mischievously at him.

“Not a word,” Joe grumbled. “Not a single word.”

She demurely took his arm, but out of the corner of his eye, Joe could see her stifling a giggle.

~~~

The happy couple were whisked off on their honeymoon immediately following the ceremony, meaning that Joe didn’t get a chance to palaver with Jerry about their scheme. He wouldn’t even have bothered—nothing had changed, so there was really nothing to discuss—but he was starting to get worried. The bride and the groom had actually kissed, in front of everybody, at the ceremony. And the bride hadn’t even slapped the groom afterward. Daphne’d had a sort of resolute, shy smile on her face throughout the entire ordeal. Either she was a damn good actress or—he, damn it! Either Jerry was a damn good actor or something fishy was going on here.

After five days, they received the first letter. “Daphne says Niagara Falls is simply too beautiful for words,” Sugar reported, her eyes racing over the hotel letterhead.

“Well, doesn’t that just beat the band,” Joe said sourly. “Anything in there about champagne breakfasts and dinners like the ones I oughta be giving you right now, if I had a few more bucks in my pocket?”

Sugar twinkled fondly at him over the top of the letter before continuing to read. “She says she’s always wanted to try ballooning, and Osgood has promised to take her up in one tomorrow!”

“Going up in a balloon? Gee whiz. Too bad we haven’t got time to write back and tell her to leave everything to me in her will.”

After ten days, the second letter came. “We’ve been discussing our shared future,” Sugar read aloud. “I’ve told Osgood in no uncertain terms that I refuse to be a kept woman. He has agreed to split everything with me outright. He says he loves a strong-minded girl. Actually, what he said was ‘Zowee!’ but I took it to mean the above.”

Joe furrowed his brow. “What the heck is she up to? Why bother with all that? The plan goes: honeymoon, divorce, alimony.”

Sugar clutched the letter to her bosom in a sudden transport of rapture as a thought struck her. “Maybe she’s falling in love with him! For real this time, not just pretend!”

Joe scoffed, but his scoff was a little on the weak side.

~~~

“No. Absolutely not.”

Joe gaped. “No? What—but—”

“There’s no need. I’ve got money coming out my ears now, which means you and Sugar are taken care of as well. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Daphne and Osgood were back from their honeymoon, and this was the first chance Joe had gotten to talk to his pal in private. To his astonishment, Daphne had returned home coy and contented, and hadn’t stopped smiling until now, alone with Joe and addressing the unwelcome topic of alimony. Daphne shook her head emphatically, her freshly-curled wig and expensive new dress indicating some of the cosseting she’d received over the past few weeks.

“Listen, Joe.” Her voice dropped a bit, and suddenly she was Jerry again. “I’ve got a good thing going here. I don’t want to spoil it. He’s rich, he’s generous, and he thinks I hung the moon.”

“And he knows you’re a man!” Joe hissed.

“And doesn’t seem to care,” Jerry shot back, eyes gleaming triumphantly. “He just wants me to be Daphne for him. He doesn’t care how real it is.”

“What about women? Don’t you want a woman in your life?”

“I don’t know,” Jerry mused, stripping off his white mesh gloves. “Dames have brought me nothing but heartbreak in the past. Never worked out, somehow. I guess I’m the woman in my life, now.” He chuckled. “And you know what? It’s not half bad.”

“You don’t say.” Joe snorted. “What about your wedding night, what did you do for that, huh? Tell him you had a headache?”

Daphne was suddenly wholly Daphne again, very prim and proper. “A lady never tells.”

Joe stared for a long, disbelieving moment before shaking his head. “It’s not gonna last.”

But what do you know? Somehow, it did.

[toon-tales]

Ah, yes. Another fandom I'm in, and another couple(s) to analyze.

Who are we talking about today? N x V, and N x Uzi.

Ooooh, yeah, we're back in business, babyy!

Let's take it from the beginning, shall we?

"So obviously a lot of mutual respect there, but secretly I actually kind of have a crush on her."

N, in the beginning, was in love with V, down bad, even, if I have to say myself. And V? Well, she wasn't really that appreciative about it.

"Huh? Oh god who are you?!"

But why exactly? I guess we all know the answer for that question: fear.

But before we dive into that, how about we travel in time to when N and V were mere worker drones?

We all know that the poor robots were found by Tessa, when they were abandoned, forgotten, not wanted, and she fixed them up! Even better, gave them wigs and cared for them and treated them like friends. Because for Tessa, they were her friends. But to her parents? They were just the dumpster pets she found.

Now can you imagine the terror these poor robots lived in at the manor? One minor mistake and they were gone. The only good treatment they got was probably from Tessa and only Tessa. J? Absolutely not; we saw how she treated N, even when they were worker drones.

And even with Tessa treating them good, it was because they were supposed to be her friends. They were brought to be her friends.

So when they bumped into someone-other than Tessa-who wasn't mean, who gave unconditional kindness, they both fell, and hard.

Because they found what was missing. They were used to getting treated kindly by only one person in an entire manor, so when they saw someone who offered pure love, they clung to them.

And in their case, it was each other.

So what happened exactly when Uzi came in the picture?

As we saw, N still had feelings for V, even when she clearly treated him badly, because his love for her was true, it wasn't just an escape for him. And V? The same case. She loved him.

But then, the hardships came, and she had to protect him. And slowly, their love was turning toxic, even if unintentionally.

Now Uzi was the complete opposite.

"And look at all the respect it's gotten you N! You really think the company isn't going to dispose of you once all the workers are dead?"

Saw that? Let's take another look in case you missed it.

"And look at all the respect it's gotten you N!"

While V treated N bad like that-and he accepted it-Uzi refused this situation.

Let me remind you of something: If it wasn't for N's compassion, or Uzi's understanding, they would've both been dead.

N let Uzi go because her father just left her for dead, because she wasn't trusted by her own family, and we can say that, in a way, that struck a chord within him, maybe reminded him of himself. And Uzi, in return, saved him when J almost killed him. Why? She found someone who actually listened to her, who trusted her, and slowly, she was falling.

She did exactly what V did- clung to who provided what she was missing.

And N? His heart was still with V. Or rather, it was falling out of love with V. Because he had tried to keep that love, but he was rejected each time.

"V, if you're hiding something, we can figure it out together"

"Even if we each only have pieces"

"Please, what do you know-"

He was hurting when V could do something to help him- tell.

But she didn't.

And after he realized that he could get treated better, that he deserves to get treated better, he started to see the truth.

"Seriously, don't do that again."

Uzi cared.

And it made him slowly fall out of love with V.

When he saw that V just didn't care about him anymore ("But she cared-" We'll talk about that, don't worry), he turned to the person who did.

"V, we can't hurt Uzi!"

And it wasn't just about Uzi, it was about him, too.

"I don't know what you are talking about because you won't tell me!"

Until he was finally certain of it- he was no longer in love with V.

"I am! Uzi is, she's a kid like us, V! What is wrong with you!?"

Because all he wanted was someone who wouldn't leave him during the dark times.

"Before we met, scary stuff was actually...pretty scary, and tonight too, 'cause you weren't with me to make it fun somehow, I kind of forgot what that was like."

"Baby steps. Together?"

And if anyone was blaming Uzi for falling in love with N just because he was there, then let me remind you N did the same.

V didn't have what Uzi provided- love, care. But even then, he never stopped caring.

"NO, NO, NO! V, WE NEED YOU!"

But it was this moment, when V was out of the way, that he realized he loves Uzi.

"Hey.. buddy... Yeah, that should help..."

"All I know is.. I need you. To figure things out... together..?"

And the difference is that Uzi was there.

"Hey... thanks for, like... everything."

Uzi tried to protect him, something V never tried to do.

Or at least that's what he thought.

"N? N? You're okay? I wasn't - Tessa is Cyn! She's here. N, I don't know how much you remember, but J tricked us. Or, it tricked J, too! N? I'm so sorry. I-I should have been honest with you. I was just so scared for us - for you!"

Did you see that? "I was just so scared for us - for you!"

Exactly.

V has always cared, from the beginning. She's always loved N.

So why did Uzi win? Because she knew how to keep that love.

Both V and Uzi were traumatized, both clung to the drone who gave what they craved, both tried to protect him.

I'm not saying that you shouldn't ship N x V, or that they're a bad ship, or that their love wasn't real, because without hardships in life, how are you supposed to fall in love? How are you supposed to find the person who provides the comfort you need, if everything is perfect?

Their love was real. It was true, it wasn't just a passing moment nor a distraction from the reality they were living; because it lasted.

V just failed to keep it that way.

And in the end, feel free to add!

[poupeesdecirque]

We continue with the sketches here, as mentioned before these are based on the dolls I have and I think this post here will conclude the sketches I made in 2024 (maybe finished them in 2025 but the sketches were from before).

We have lots of Exorcists, Noah and ofc Allen. And some pumpkins inbetween.

Ally (AU) - Before the reveal of Bookman Jr this was how we all imagined past Allen to look like. In my AU he will forever look like this, I adore this doll and the character I created around it. He has actually the most expensive wig I ever made because the fiber alone was 70 bucks and I was kinda stressed not to waste any of it while I worked on it. From the Allen dolls he's the one I don't take on trips as I am super scared to scratch the face up or lose the glasses.

Road - It took forever to find a doll I liked for Road. I am super picky with girls, she is a bit out of scale with the other Noah due her big head but overall I really adore her. I think she is one of my overall favorite female dolls.

Wisely - Wisely is actually one of the Noah I like the most. His outfit consists of way too many parts and I would make it different by now ... he lacks photos, be blamed onto the fact other characters get more screen time and somehow he always falls through. He's kinda in the same place as Tyki T.T

Kanda - Kanda was not even planned to be honest. But as Little Monica went out of business (I know they are back now) I really wanted to get the last two heads I was eyeing for a while. One was the base for Kanda. He and Lenalee arrived as I wasn't home and it took me very long to get their bodies. I have to admit I didn't like Kanda much. I even skipped the Alma Arc as I first read it because it was too Kanda centered for my taste. But I think he's one of the best Dolls I customized, he climbed up the ranking for sure.

Lenalee - Same as Kanda she wasn't planned. And she gave me a huge headache, sewing for her and painting her was a pita. She's the only got who got TWO uniforms sewn, I kinda made my peace with her. But her body being horrible to start with didn't help much. From the two dgm girls she clearly can't stand a chance against Road.

Allen Campbell (AU) - As I had Ally I had a mighty need to get another doll from the AU as well. And I picked my Allen. It's a long story but let's say Allen gets kinda reborn and the Earl&Ally raise him then. I referenced the Design to Allen's canon outfit when he traveled with Mana but with a more sophisticated twist.

Sokrates - Another doll I got for the Pumpkin head... little did I know it would take 1,5 years to get the heads. I even pushed back getting a body for him as I was just fed up with everything. I will eventually learn to like him in the future.

Gomez - A little find on etsy, he follows the naming theme of my pumpkins to be inspired by halloween media. His name is taken from the Addams Family.

Adam - He's a mixture of what we see of Adam and my AU Variant of the 'healed' Millennium Earl, to make the cycle complete. All forms of the Earl so far have joined the crew.

Eddie - I snagged this cutie from his creator HallowChii as she parted from the few prints she had, I think it's maybe 5 of them out there? Eddie is Edwards grandchild and loves to listen to his stories.

Bookman - Weirdly Bookman grew on me as character and as the sculpt was released it screamed OLD MAN to me.. so I decided to create Bookman as a doll.

Eishi - Eishi is (while I write this) still a doll in progress. He's the former shell of Lavi I decided to keep but I made the promise to myself that I won't buy new resin without having an idea for the old shell if I reshell... I was lacking a level 3 Akuma, so, here we go.

[yandere-fics]

honestly I would love to see dreamy yan girl nextdoor (totally not because I love next door neighbor type of stuff lol def not that…)

omg it just hit me, i've been trying to figure out what au to fit the Anderson sisters into but dreamy coastal town with slightly ominous girl next door Sophie and Skylar plus the other sisters who reside in the town, I know I'm just giving myself more work but I also really really want to find a way to fit Skylar in because she's been rotting away in my brain like a tapeworm.

Okay so let me know y'all's thoughts on this but thiw wouldn't be an au I would write as often as The City or The Kingdom but it would be there. Btw I wouldn't write any stories of the girls fighting over you since I just can't imagine they would all fall for the same person, they know to back off their sibling's territory.

So I see Skylar being the girl next door who no one seems to notice is pretty sinister. It's easy to not notice she's a bit of a freak. She's the sweet eldest sister, and the local librarian. She's the first to greet you when you move into the small coastal town and is always coming over to help you with things on your days off. She's very shy and won't make the first move, you think her crush is cute at first but after awhile it becomes a bit.. frightening. Constantly clutching onto you and telling you that she doesn't know what you'd do if you ever left her side. You think she's just a bit insecure, not noticing how so many people around you get frightened away really quickly. She's the sweet girl next door to a fault so you would never suspect her of anything.

Sophie is the younger sister who was forced to come greet you when you first moved in and now you keep seeing her everywhere. Skylar is constantly inviting you over but eventually you stop accepting the invites because when you come over, Sophie is just staring at you hard, it's starting to wig you out. That doesn't stop it though, things are always breaking in the beautiful villa you rented and well, Sophie is the only one who can come over at midnight to fix these things for you. Little do you know that every time she comes over, another camera is discreetly placed and another item is sabotaged just so she can return. She's very delusional, if she keeps watching you and repairing things for you then eventually you will come to her of your own accord, and if not? Well you'll just have to see.

Darla is the girl who you meet at a cute little coffee shop near your house who will talk your ear off for an hour about her college degree, she's an english major, just like her older sister was. You learn she doesn't talk to her sister's much since she was an illegitimate child but she sees them in town occasionally. She's quick to invite herself to things, even quicker to start telling everyone that the two of you are dating. She's especially fast to take you to a college party with her and seduce you, then demand you start a relationship with her because you stole her first. It's only fair right? Don't make her have to call her older sister's to help.

Elouise was never fond of her sister's or the way they did anything. They always had what she wanted, Skylar got to escape the house before anyone else, Sophie always found a way to steal the adult things and would hoard them all to herself, Darla was the rosy eyed one who got her college paid for(with the condition that she pretend she's not related to her parents and to never contact them again), so when she finds out her pretty little obsession lives next door to two of her sister's, she's determined to keep you to herself. They're just happy Elouise just has someone.

Anyways let me know your thoughts, I personally love this so much and I kinda want to make this one of the things, I know it's not as magical as the other two but I think it's pretty cute.

[my-jokes-are-my-armour]

You know, I always try to understand human reaction to something that I don't experience the same way. Because trying to put myself in other people shoes is something important to me, even if it is disturbing. It doesn't mean I will be OK with their version, but sometimes it helps me to find gray ground when I can be too passionate myself.

The whole "Jaskier hair do style thing" is right in my "I don't get it" spot, because it involves attraction.

I already told this but, it took me a very long time to understand that I didn't feel attraction the same way than most people around me, as I was growing up. Especially that I never have any sexual impulse when I found somebody attractive. I was putting the word because I thought that was similar for the other, hearing how they fancy some people. Also, while I recognise beauty, I am not feeling a thing for it.

I remember in my teenage years, having the weirdest "crush" in regard of my friends. For them, my crushes were ugly and I was strange. So I was saying : "they have charisma. I am attracted to that". Which was not completely false.

It's in my early thirties, when I manage to understand that I was ace, that I began to connect the dots and put words on the way I feel attraction. What charismatic traits I was attracted to in someone. And it changes with every person.

Very often though, I was attracted by someone's voice or way of speaking.

This is definitely the case for Joey for example. He is handsome in many aspect but, his overall softness (eyes, voice, demeanor) and the way he speaks (use words even) attract me a lot. For those who like my "cute joey overload" series, you will notice that the vast majority has him actually speaking. Because well, this is how it works for me 🤷🏽‍♀️.

For instance, in my teenage years, my actor "crush" was Alan Rickman when all my friend were falling for young DiCaprio. And I had never ceased to find him attractive when he aged, got fatter, and had less hair. For me Alan Rickman was magnetic. There was a softness in his eyes and when he spoke, I was glued to the screen.

The thing that startles me with the Jaskier's hair thing is that when I read very angry posts, comments or whatever about it, is not "they made him ugly" that I see but "they could hide imperfections better so I can still find him attractive the way I used to" (or for a part simply "here another reason to hate the show").

Also this is not a bad wig we are talking about this time, but his real hair. Don't forget that.

Sure they could have done something else. I see this is not the prettiest look. But I really don't see ugly there and I find him attractive the same way. I am not blind to beauty canon, really. And I genuinely can't find him ugly now.

The problem I have with the general rant about the way they made his hair is that it shows how uncanny normal imperfections have become to a lot of people. Especially in the online sphere.

There is a thin frontier between saying a preference about physical trait and actually make a person insecure about it. So be careful. Social media has a tendency to amply things as we find people with the same tastes.

Joey isn't reading any of this so I don't worry about him. And I won't make assumption about the way he sees himself. Maybe he doesn't like Jaskier's haircut. Maybe he does. Maybe he doesn't care. The only way the "they did him dirty" kind of comments would make sense to me would be if Joey himself says that he didn't like the way he looked here.

All I want to point out is that massive complainings about a physical thing can have repercussions.

It reminds me a youtuber I like, that has what I call "non typical canon beauty". He is not the one who has to most body shaming overall but it's there.

He is a bit short, with slight proportion issues, he is hairy, pear shaped and not muscular. I bet that the mental image you have with this description is not pretty at all. This is just a list of things that are commonly seen as not attractive and that he can be described with. But the guy is normal.

Early on, he seemed not to worry about the hairy part for example. One day, in one video, he pulled his shirt up a little bit to open a bottle with it. And people saw for the first time how hairy he really was. People thought they were joking, calling him Chewbacca for instance, or thought that stating that he should learn to use a razor was relevant. They found many ways to describe his hairyness, having fun about that.

Some time later he made a vlog where he drives a sort of submarine bike. The guy had shaved completely to appear topless... But people noticed the other imperfections. They joked about his lack of muscle. The next video he had to swim in a vlog, he went all covered, and people were like "why has he his shirt on ?" Really ? You really wondered why...

Now he almost never have clothes that let appear imperfections and hide if he has to remove layers. He is not shy to say that he has a poor appreciation of his body for a long time, but I guess the constant comments on the way he looked when showing "imperfections" didn't help with that.

And you know this one had to deal with unpleasant comments to say the least, even in the weirdest context. Like, he has a condition that gave him terrible sight. He had the cataract operation before his thirties to prevent him becoming blind later. In the first months after the operation he very happy to not have to wear contact lens or glasses. But then, his sight deteriorated again. Now, he often not wears glasses in his videos but he can't get without it quite often too, so sometimes he puts them on. When he first began to appear with glasses again, people joked about the fact that the operation failed. Like wtf !

Now people are used to it so it stopped but I was shocked it happened at all.

He had many remarks on his short stature or body shape over the years. It tend to have almost stopped now, fortunately. But sometimes it happens again when some imperfections are more apparent.

So now I want to understand. Can you tell me at which point someone is "uglified ?"

Here is the youtuber I am talking about.

The first picture, he was all groomed for someone else video. Second one, it's Instagram pose for a joke. The clothes are not pretty, but the angle is chosen to make him appear taller than he is, and hide some "imperfections". The last one is his more natural appearance, during one of his videos and we can see "imperfections".

If the first and the third had been reversed. Like, the first one would have been the way he chooses to appear for his content and the third the way someone else chooses for him. Would you say they uglified him then ?

He is as attractive in each picture to me, because what attracts me is something else I guess.

So it is the same for the new Jaskier look for me. I see what you don't like. I see some not flattering choices by the stylists team I guess. Could have it been something else ? More appealing ? Yeah maybe. This is my step toward you. But this is as far as I can get.

I don't see someone that turned ugly because of that. And most of all I don't feel angry about it.

I find Joey equally attractive now than he's always been.

Maybe you just don't like when imperfections are more apparent or certain hair cuts etc. Tastes and colors are your own. But ugly ? Really ?

1 : The new look. - 2 : The red carpet look for S2. - 3 : TAD photoshoot. - 4 : Live performing.

Is he less hot, in the first one, seeing those shots side by side ?

For me he has charisma over the charts in any occurrences (shown here or anywhere), he is simply better groomed or have a better angle or whatever in some of them. This is the same human being in the end 🥰.

[instantpansies]

In 1964, arguably the height of their career, the Beatles performed "Pyramus and Thisbe", the play-within-a-play from A Midsummer Night's Dream, for a television appearance. Having been obsessed with the Beatles for my entire life, I was ecstatic when at age 12 the recording appeared in my YouTube recommendations.

Around the same time, I was becoming obsessed with Shakespeare as well. Starting with Much Ado about Nothing, I had read most of the comedies and a good number of tragedies by the time I stumbled across "The Beatles Perform Shakespeare, in colour". Naturally, it immediately became my dream to perform in that play. I wasn't an actor yet, and while I was an okay public speaker I hadn't yet gone through the debate classes and persuasive essay presentations that would force me to get comfortable in front of a crowd. I watched the blurry footage of John and Paul mumbling through archaic lines in yarn wigs, and set my sights on memorizing the monologues.

In A Midsummer Night's Dream, Pyramus and Thisbe is a play put on by the group of fools, who spend most of the story rehearsing before performing it in the final scenes of Midsummer's. It's poorly written, intentionally so, with the actors flubbing lines, speaking out of turn, and generally doing a bad job of presenting the story. Shakespeare means it to be a moment of comedy to wrap up the romantic drama of the rest of the story. Pyramus and Thisbe is also the myth that inspired Romeo and Juliet, with the plot following very similar beats.

I started acting in high school and it quickly became part of my identity. This isn't a unique experience by any means, but the freedom of being someone else was pretty meaningful for a queer kid who'd grown up in the only liberal family in our conservative christian homeschool co-op. I'd only acted for two years when the de facto leader of our troupe, my best friend, graduated, leaving me to fill the gap. Suddenly I'd become one of the most experienced actors in a group of freshman homeschoolers, most of whom had never stepped onstage.

Our director also ran a co-op of sorts of her own - not the one where I'd spent most of my primary educational career, but a sort of conglomerate of teachers and classes - and she wanted us to present a short play for the elementary classes' fall celebration. She asked for recommendations and I saw my chance, practically shining in the air before me.

Obviously I shouted out "Pyramus and Thisbe!" I gave my elevator pitch. Killed it. We got scripts the next week. Me and that little group of freshmen pulled ourselves together in about a month, and managed to present the archaic language comedically. If I do say so myself. We practiced just once a week, and my actors weren't quite sure what to do with their rather eccentric characters, and our lines weren't fully memorized until the week before, but we made it. We made it, and it was great.

I played Pyramus. I got to die dramatically in front of fifty kids I'd been working with for over a year, flounce around onstage with a plastic sword, and immerse myself in a scene I'd loved for years. It was, honestly, a high point of my high school career. I still have those lines memorized, I still go back to the photos and videos from that fall evening. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

I don't really know what the point of this story is. I think it's funny, I guess, how Pyramus and Thisbe keeps popping up in my life. It connects to acting and classic literature and the Beatles and the summers of staying with my grandparents, holed up in their extra room, writing research papers and surfing the Internet. I don't know what it is about Pyramus and Thisbe, but it's important for one reason or another. I hope it shows up in my life again someday, but in the meantime, I'm done. And being done, thus Wall away doth go.

[jonathanbrandisarchive]

He Said or We Said? You Figure Out Which! An April Fools Quiz

In every interview we've done with Jonathan Brandis, there's always been a point where he's wigged out a little and said something, dare we say, a bit wacky and off-the-wall. Can you distinguish between things Jon has actually said and statements we've totally made up? Try your luck below.

Big Bopper, 1995

"There was one time that I shot at a girl with a .22 and… well, you know, she got lead poisoning. I mean I don't regret shooting her. I just regret how the story spread."

"I was nervous about getting my learner's permit. I failed the test the first time! That hurt! Then I went home and hit my clock and broke it to pieces! I think I failed due to my lack of intelligence."

“There are times I think I can fly. I may be at the top of a building, and I think to myself, ‘Ya know, if I just flapped my arms hard enough…’"

“I think it was – oh man! I’ve got to burp! [Insert burping sounds here.] I’m sorry! Anyway… don’t forget to include the burp in the interview.”

“But my car is my aura, it’s my being. I am one with my car! I want you to print all of this! Do not put, ‘Jonathan thinks his car is neat.’ I want it all!”

Let the readers know that really, I don’t wear underwear. All that silk-boxer-shorts stuff was just a scam. I just like to go naked under my clothes. So now everyone knows!”

“It would be great living with a beautiful girl who has posed for – ahem – well, who cooks and cleans and runs around barefoot.”

“Yeah. just kickin’ it. Just chillin’. Just kickin’ back! Oh, you’re dope, you’re stupid, you’re dumb, you’re flip, you’re fly. Whew!”

“I’m a lumberjack and I’m okay. I sleep all night and I work all day. I cut down trees. I eat my lunch. I go to the lavatory. On Wednesdays I go shopping and have buttered scones for tea.”

“I’m an Amish kid. I don’t ride motorcycles! We don’t even believe in electricity!”

“Every election, when you read between the lines, is basically the same. It’s the donkey and the elephant. That’s just about it.”

“For Valentine’s Day, I’d give a girl flowers… roses, pink roses. And I would grow them myself like Richard Grieco does. Then we’d have dinner on top of a lighthouse. I’d grill it myself. And it would be twilight… and the sound of seagulls would engulf our dinner. Cawwww, cawwww, cawwww.”

“I wouldn’t mind, you know, being like a househusband. I think I’d wear one of those lacy aprons and a bandanna in my hair.”

“I am an April Fool!”

“I am a big fan of tongues. I love tongues. Not pierced, just the playfulness of tongues.”

“If I wasn’t an actor, I could be a mad scientist. I could dig up bodies in the graveyard at midnight and conduct insane experiments on them. I guess I should practice my demented scientist laugh just in case.”

“Here I am, Warped Boy, growing up in a world where I don’t even know who I am… and there I am, taking it to another world, another dimension.”

“I think I’m going to start my own political party – the Actor Party. If you want to be in government office, you have to audition. I’ll be elected President in no time!”

“If I lived with another guy, I’d probably end up in prison by the end of the month.”

“My best Christmas was when the tree fell. The cat ran underneath it and the lights and ornaments and everything just fell! Then the lights broke and the cat was electrocuted.”

*(if bold, Jon said; if not, BOP said)

[velvetvexations]

If we're still doing fun and semi-obscure hobbies/hyperfixations/special interests here are a few things I've been into lately:

Sound engineering and mixing - I've just started needing to do it for myself for a larger project I'm working on and I knew it'd be interesting, but it's more fun than I thought it'd be even if it is almost as tedious as I feared. I just learned the vowel trick for figuring out where to start with EQ adjustments and it feels like I just unlocked the secrets of the universe. I'm still super new into it and don't know a lot but...I honestly kind of hope I DON'T get too into it, because it might end up distracting me from a lot of the rest of the project and most of my role in said project is live performance lmao - but getting my vocals to sit ALMOST right in a recorded song without anyone else's direct help for the first time was so exciting it felt like a whole new world opened up.

Dollmaking! I make my own BJDs - bodies, clothes, eyes, all from nothing; the only thing I regularly buy mostly made is wigs and even those I usually do a lot of alteration on, or sometimes even just make out of wefts or braiding hair if the length/texture/part position/cap size combination I need is too hard to find. For the face and body sculpting, I do that digitally and 3D print them in resin. My bin of spare parts and the half-finished ones I always have at least one of lying around also make my house really fun to visit at night if you like horror lmao--

Speaking of, just 3D printing in general is something I have a strong interest in. I'm hoping to get the money together to move to a larger space in the coming years so I have the room to expand my fleet of 3D printers.

The funny thing is, none of them seem particularly problematic on their face...but just like anything like that, you would be AMAZED at how much drama goes on about them. It honestly helps me keep tumblr fandom drama in perspective when I see people pulling "you wouldn't download a car" logic to call someone a monster about doll body construction being SLIGHTLY too similar to some brand or another's (like, there are only so many ways you can do double ball joints!) or say you're a bad person degrading the hobby for thinking anything you could 3D print at home is remotely high quality enough to Count(TM) (like even if that were true maybe stop using the cheapest standard resin you can find then? Skill issue), or getting weirdly xenophobic about 3D printer brands, or acting like EQing someone's voice to make them sound more like they want to sound like with regards to gender is some kind of great evil and literally the same as companies trying to make us think there's something wrong with us if we don't look like airbrushed supermodels. At least I haven't personally been in the immediate blast radius of one of the SURPRISINGLY MANY supply seller death faking scandals that happen from time to time in the specialty fiber and textiles sector...

The Lithuanian 3D printer monopoly is destroying this country.

[hannibalcatharsis-zero]

I normally don't write these anymore or quite like this but I'm tired

I don't know if it's the meds or just me, possibly both. Yesterday I was told these meds seem to put me on a lower mood, which was definitely the point since the last ones I was basically in manic constant and felt super nice but couldn't focus and so I was actually overmedicated and it wasn't a healthy "good", just the equivalent of being on a manic episode if I was bipolar, which so far Im not. So the meds were changed to balance the hype, and at first I wanted to double the dose because I was getting worse and the good wasn't good anymore, but I couldn't do that.

Now apparently they've caught their effects up but what was meant yesterday was that I'm more depressed again so yeah

Is this all chemically induced or just me? Am I just gonna get my period or something?

I don't write for 10 months. I was cool with that for the longest time, but now I feel Im missing out. I read old stuff of mine and i felt like coming back. I tried translating today and I feel null.

I've been sewing these past months. All cool at first, but now I'm understandably tired. I wanted to make plushies but they feel like they'll be more of the same. But I was really looking forward to that.

I wanted for weeks to do a wig base and when I did it and it went well, I realized I couldn't go in a Uber or bus with that on due to shame and though I easily saw I just habe to dress at a con, I felt super overwhelmed with something that should have made me feel happy

I can't focus on anything, I am overwhelmed with things to do but nothing feels good enough

I started another wig and I'm kinda wanting to glue it but let's see

A family member died and I felt something, yeah, just not for the deceased.

Today is an important date and I just don't feel what I want to

I just want to lie down

I feel if I only organized myself everything would be much better and I wouldn't have what to complain about

I'm getting paranoid again and it's getting worse I hear what people will say in my head that they hate me its getting worse

Is this all chemically induced or just me. There's more going on and it's probably the hubris of the issue but let's must keep this as little personal as possible on the internet

Oh forgot to add a good song Bury the light mashup

[telltalebatman]

post the frankie size queen essay

in form of a ficlet as im wating for my food delivery. nsfw btw

"So," Angelo asked her one day. "Mac Gargan, huh?"

"Ugh, don't start this again," she sighed as he laughed. "I've told you already. I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know he's coming to our wedding-"

"Franks, I couldn't be any less mad about not getting married to a girl if I tried. All things considered, it is a miracle it took pops this long to figure out I'm gay, and I never liked lavender to begin with. Nice touch with having lavender in your wedding bouquet, by the way," he added with a grin as she laughed. "Subtle."

"Yeah, I thought you'd like that," she said with a giggle. "I just saw they had this option and went - holy shit, Angel Boy's gonna love it."

"Well, I did love it. Buuuuuut... I didn't get you here just to reminisce about our failed wedding. Come on, Franks. I need to know - why him?" he asked finally, his dark eyes glimmering with curiosity; and Frankie bit her lip.

"Well, he does make me feel safe," she said slowly, wincing slightly as the irony of a guy who once kidnapped her making her feel safe was not entirely lost on her. "He's patient. Like, really patient."

"Uh-uh," Angelo said, rolling his eyes. "Fucking boooriiiiingggggg. I want to know the juicy stuff. Come on. How's your sex life?" he asked in his worst Tommy Wiseau voice; and Frankie groaned. Rationally, she knew this question was coming; and it wasn't the question she was dreading - it was the answer.

"I had never been fucked better in my entire life," she said with a deep sigh. "You know that club bouncer guy I told you about, the one that looks like Don Costa? He has a huge schlong, but can't use it. And Mackie... Holy shit, Angel Boy. Now I know what the Muppet puppets would feel if they ever came alive and felt the hand inside of them."

"Ew," Angelo said with a wide grin. "Gross. Keep going though."

"The first time he put it in I thought he's gonna poke my eye out from within," she continued, her cheeks flushing slightly as she thought back to their first time. "It felt so fucking good. I had never realized how much empty space I have inside of me until he fucked me. It was fucking unreal."

"Jesus, is that why you went radio silent for a week? Because he fucked you so good you forgot how to speak?"

"I didn't just forget how to speak, I forgot where I live," she said with a pained sigh as Angelo laughed. "And I thought to myself - great! Now that I've fucked him, he's out of my system. I can move on with my life now. But then I hooked up with another guy, and... It was just not the same. Nobody could fill me like he did. And it wasn't even a metaphorical, emotional void or anything. No, I mean it in the most literal, physical sense. He filled me up, alllllll the way. I then tried to, you know, get a dildo, but... Eh. It's just not the same, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that. An artificial dick up your ass is just not the same as the real thing," he said, nodding sagely. "Been there. Done that. Disinfected that afterwards."

"Yeah, I sure hope you disinfect your dildos. But anyway, that's how I figured out I'm physically incompatible with anyone whose dick I can wrap my fingers around. If it doesn't make me feel like I'm about to have to go to the ER, I don't want it. Apparently whenever we fuck, I look like I'm having a stroke and a heart attack at the same time, but he kinda likes it. He says it's hot when I can't even talk properly and he can really feel me."

"God, I am so glad we didn't end up married, our sex life would be so fucking bad for both of us. Me, I just can't top. You... Ugh, I can't even say it."

"Don't say it then. Just know that I do not think about you when I'm riding that Burj Khalifa of dicks. All I think about is how good it feels to my esophagus."

"Yeah, okay, Miss Piggy. What I hate the most about this conversation is that it's the same exact for me. And I love being a Muppet. I just wish dicks had fingers, you know? So they could wiggle them inside of me. That, I think, would ruin me completely."

"Oh god," Frankie breathed out, biting her bottom lip. "That would fucking rule. And also result in my eyeballs falling out for real, I'm pretty sure."

"Can the two of you shut the fuck up for five fucking minutes?" Mac asked tiredly from another room; Frankie and Angelo laughed in unison. They were having their weird little conversation in the living room of an apartment Frankie was renting together with Mac - who was trying to take a nap in the other room. Clearly that was not working out, and she hoped he had heard every single word. Because that'd mean a oh so you like it big, huh? kind of sex later on - and the only thing she liked more than his massive dick was when he made fun of her for not being able to string together a simple coherent sentence as he fucked her. "Please. Jesus."

"We'll be quiet now," Frankie said, kicking Angelo under the table. "Right, Angel Boy?"

"Yeah, as quiet as she gets when your dick pierces her intestines," Angelo replied in a sing-song voice; Mac groaned. Frankie laughed. For just a single afternoon, all was right in the world; and when the night fell, once again she forgot her own name.

ohmygodohmygodohgodohgodohgod

"You like it big, huh?" he said as she gasped loudly and grabbed the sheets as she tried to spread her legs even further. "Aww, look at yourself. Can't even talk," he added mockingly as she moaned and arched her back. "Hold still," he added, grabbing her by her waist as he fucked her. "Tell me how much you like it, or I'll stop."

"No," she moaned out, her thought slowing down to a crawl. "Pl... Please... Oh, god..."

In return, he only laughed; and she could feel his laughter, deep inside of herself. His every word, every chuckle echoed through herself; and she

fucking

loved it.

ohgodohgodohgodohgodIMCUMMING

"I barely even moved," he said mockingly as her eyes rolled back and barely any sound got out of her wide open mouth. "Aww, you're so precious. You don't even need friction, you just need to be filled up," he added; and she didn't protest. She didn't argue. Truth be told, she wasn't even sure what exactly was he saying in the first place; all that mattered were his hands around her waist, and his cock inside of her, and his beautiful body towering over her.

holy fucking shit.

he should fist me one day

[aurorasmysticcharm]

Life update

Hello there! I'm not dead yet.

Some of you might have noticed my disappearance for nearly two years now. First and foremost I wanted to say that I've received your notifs, and I feel eternally grateful for all those interactions; they mean a lot hence I thought I owed you all some explanation; life really got in the way and if you wonder what I was up to during my long absence, let's get into it. If not, it's fine as well, and I just hope you can find it in your heart to greet me warmly, hahah- here I am begging pathetically for affection if you'd allow me to be vulnerable so here we go!

cw// mental health issues, s3lf-h4rm attempts

First of all, I've been busy with college since I managed to get back in after countless failures. I really needed to redeem myself after all the bad grades I got, which led me to retake some subjects I failed and repeat a year. At the same time I also joined a band for musical animation; I had a blast. It was fun and I learned a lot from other musicians.

On a more negative note, my ability to function like a human being got impeded gradually; in other words I lost interest in all the things I enjoy, I failed to reach out to people, I failed my last semester again, unable to keep up with my academic responsibilities and meet basic needs like eating or just- taking care of myself in general, which is something I feel so ashamed of because even now at times, these simple tasks feel like mountains and hills to climb. My sleep schedule was all over the place and it still is to be honest although I think I reached my lowest point last year. Moving from one country to another was not a transition I was able to handle well but I had no choice; with my future at stakes it appears likely as the downward spiral trigger but to be honest I've lived my whole life struggling to pinpoint the root of the problem and even now I'm still not sure that I'm not making this up due to my impostor syndrome. Maybe it also stems from always perceiving myself so harshly, who actually knows? Perhaps additional factors would include how the current state of the world is- ethnic cleansing happening in Congo, Sudan and Palestine, an influential world leader position being handed over to that ugly piece of shit wigged transphobic fascist, people from my homecountry dying from acute nutrition crisis due to climatic impacts, cyclones/low rainfall in some regions. In a nutshell, life turned into a living hell and I reached the stage of attempting to commit the unthinkable even.

Fortunately, I have family in the city where I settled in. They helped me a lot, I eventually managed to gather the strength to reach out to a professional and now, I am still in the process of recovery; I've considered returning on tumblr lately because I missed this app, and I think I went past the lurking phase. For now though, just a heads-up, I don't feel like posting as much AoT content as before and I'm not going to create another blog account for my other stuff so please, bear with me here but it's fine if you also don't; the unfollow button exists for a reason. Still, I'll be reposting nice things I want to share.

Special thanks to all those sticking around. You're the best! <3

[angelltheninth]

The Loki Negotiations

Pairing: Loki x Sylvie

Febuwhump Day 12: Used as Practice

Tags: captured, restraints, banter, variants, unresolved tension

Word count: 1k

Ao3

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions | Event Masterlist

A/N: Lokis will always have issues. But Sylvie is allowed to because I say so.

"This is a rather unusual interrogation technique." Loki wigged in the chair he was bound to, arms behind his back, legs tied to the legs of the chair, more magic rope around his torso. "Are you this polite with all your guests? Because if so, I can see why no one visits. Unless they have... certain kinds of wants." Loki flinched just a little when a knife landed right between his legs, just shy of hitting a fatal target. "Perhaps a bit too extreme for my tastes. And I don't say that often."

"Do you ever shut up? I've met a lot of Lokis in my time but you are the most infuriating by far." Sylvie summoned a second knife and threw it right next to Loki's ear. If he moved it would have hit him. "Did your new owners send you to talk to me?"

Loki grinned in that all too familiar way. "That's a little harsh. I'm my own God. I'm helping them because I'm hoping for some amusement while my oaf of a brother gets his own life in order enough for me to crash into it again. So far this has been very interesting and dare I say eye-opening." In more ways than one. Since Sylvie was a Variant of him, he figured he could skip the long and complicated relationship with Thor and that whole side of the family.

He still had the full intent of visiting his brother. Perhaps they could get along, eventually, but for now he had a new job and Sylvie was just part of that job. A most intriguing part. "And what of you? A Loki on the run. It doesn't really suit us now does it?" A third knife was launched at him, this one nicking him across the shoulder. "That jacket was new." He huffed and leaned over to grip the handle with his teeth. Removing and spitting the knife to the ground he looked back at Sylvie who already had another knife ready.

"There is no us, Loki. There is me, who has the upper hand, and there is you, tied up and about to get that clever tongue of yours cut out unless you tell me what the TVA has planned." She aimed the knife at his head, ready to throw it as soon as he opened his mouth.

"Is it that hard to believe I want to help you. I know one can't trust a Loki, some days I don't even trust myself, but I don't want to see you get hurt either. We worked together before; I can help you now too." He pulled the chair up and pulled it closer, sending the second knife to the ground as well.

Sylvie hesitated for a moment. They were both Lokis, and if she knew one thing about herself was that she will stab anyone if it meant getting the upper hand. But this Loki... he went against that.

Multiple times she had seen him put himself in harm’s way for others, for his friends, for her, for versions of him everyone had long given up on.

"The TVA will erase you the moment you stop being useful to them. That friend you have there, Mobius, he won't remember you if they make it so. Even if you get away, you'll end up just like me, alone and on the run for a crime you didn't commit." She aligned the tip of the knife with his forehead. "If I'm right this won't kill you, because they need you. But I don't. I like being alone, like a Loki should be."

"You're wrong. I was the same, I was. I saw my mother die over and over. Sylvie, tell me what reality you're in. I promise I will do everything I can to make it right for you." He dropped his charming facade, he was speaking from the heart, his eyes pleading. "Whatever is still broken we can fix it together."

Sylvie hesitated to throw the knife when she saw how he was looking at her. Why? Why is he so determined to change himself? Or to save her? This is the path she chose, so who is he to try to alter it? A God of Lies... "A Loki always lies. Goodbye, Loki."

She threw the knife.

"Sylvi-!" The knife, the whole room, and Sylvie vanished. Loki was pulled back into an empty room in the TVA, where he fell down with the chair.

"Loki!" Mobius was by his side immediately; he saw the blood on his shoulder and pressed his hand against the injury. "Judging by the state of you, I'm guessing you found her?"

"I did, and she didn't take too kindly to being found." Loki sighed and waited patiently to be untied from the chair. He rolled his cut shoulder, wincing a little but he's had worse pain. "Stubborn as always."

"Hey, she's a Loki. All of you are stubborn, of course some more than others, eh?" His friend nudged him in the ribs. "Did you at least get to talk to her?"

Loki nodded somberly. A lot of good talking did to him in that situation. He should have known that if there was someone, he couldn't charm with his words it was a Variant of himself. It did pose for a nice challenge. "I did, right before she threatened to cut my tongue out."

Mobius cringed at the threat at no doubt at the image it made in his head. "We'll keep trying. I know saving her is important to you, I just... don't know what makes her so special."

"Yeah, neither do I, Mobius. Neither do I." It was clear that Sylvie didn't want to be found or helped. But one could only run for so long before being captured. Loki should know, he spends a lot of time trying to run from his past mistakes only to have all of them thrown into his face. He doesn't want the same to happen to Sylvie, if there was any Loki that deserved a second chance, it was her.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary426

11/23-24/24

saturday - sunday

some days are really nice, until something stupid happens, i guess.

but if i'm being honest a lot of today was a lot of things, not just nice, the day out started complicated and only got more so. to start it's windy, any day which is windy i should maybe take as an omen as i will always at least be in a worse mood because i fuss over my bangs and think everything is a little more stupid because of that. so there's that, to start with today.

first thing was to go to this cup sleeve event at a boba place for a guy's birthday, someone in my gf's favorite kpop group, wooyoung. so we go to the thing, we stand around, we get drinks, they look at stuff, she spends some money on some stuff for the photocards, and gets some freebies. the drink was good, i maybe should have not had it though.

i keep sitting here, thinking about how to even talk about having a basically pleasant time, in the kpop realm for a while, but still being so totally alienated and growing more depressed as time went on there, not just at the event but at another store my gf and her friends went to get more stuff, more albums, they go to two more stores actually. they get stuff at both, her friends get way more than her. they ask her if she wants some stuff, and is like, no. that's good. then they go trade with these people, lots of women, some nb people, some guys too, mostly women though. it made me think about porn, not, like, that these women are doing the same as selling pornography dvds, but it made me think about how the patriarchy made such a thing formalized and normal, and how i guess one has the inclination to see this as weird, and that as just commerce. however, i found myself alienated, no matter what, i just felt so weird, it makes me feel sad, in a self pitying way because i feel like not enough, that my gf needs a photobook full of photos of a guy who she i guess finds really cute but it's always that he's an effeminate twink. i don't really want to be that. i don't want to be thought of like that. i just want to be her partner or whatever. i know it's hard to be anything other than that... i know to her, that includes me, to me though it feels wrong. everything feels wrong. i don't know. but there's that angle, and then this sense that it's all, i don't know, it's just full of a little sadness, these super filtered photos of guys who are sexy or cute to these people, some ideal, all you can do to feel like you touch it, hold it, fuck it maybe or at least know it in depth, is to collect. it's infinite, as long as this person lives, you can take images of their face, put them on cards, and collect them through their days, the shifts in the group's image, hair changes, wigs, whatever. i guess i feel like no matter what, there's desire on the other end of it, but it can't hold what it wants.

i keep thinking today about addiction, about how we feed little ones, and about this fear, that what she has now is a kind of addiction, that this addiction will sink us somehow, that it will fuck us financially, make her lonelier because when you want something impossibly far from you, you want to reach into the flattened form of another person, and i'm here, too real, too much pushback, unavailable in my ways, sometimes i don't want to have sex, i don't want to be touched sometimes, maybe i just want to be looked at, my great wish has always been to be behind glass, and touch hurts me sometimes, discomfort of some kind. i dunno. anyhow, there's this addiction fed by a loneliness it implants, this implanted loneliness is basically good for the economy, it makes one need other things, apparatuses to help the fantasy exist or something, to have access to a kind of phantom virility in the other you want. it's okay that we have eyes that go elsewhere. i'm not very attractive, i'm stupid, i'm ugly, i feel so ugly, it's really painful, to be honest, i feel like i keep looking at my hair i keep thinking, i fucked it up, i'm less cute, i should cut myself, instead of cutting myself i'm writing it out that i want to, that i want to take the scissors i cut my hair with and also cut the collagen ampoule pads my gf bought and cut my wrists, horizontal, just to bleed and feel sorry for myself and feel warm and the impossible things i like to feel. she has hers, i want mine.

anyway i keep thinking about addiction, i wonder if there are any which are manageable, which we can handle, you know, to prevent something bad from happening, or, i dunno.

there's a selfish thing, in me, about this spending, i want to be spoiled, i want gifts, she has these things she collects, i want my things, i want little things, i don't even know what. i keep thinking tonight, i just want to be thought about, all i want is to be thought about, i want my words to be remembered, i feel so not remembered sometimes. i know though this is stupid, i'm stupid, seriously stupid and wrong and i'm just selfish instead of wanting her to spend money on these things just hold onto it but who cares. i don't know what i want, i never know, i never speak up, it's all my fault, everything bad is my fault and i make everything about myself and i'm a bad person.

anyway, we eventually leave kpop world and go over to a bar, my gf has one drink, our friend has one drink, we're having fun, or, wait, i forgot, we got dinner, at a sushi place, and i liked that, we were having fun then too!! and i was spoiled i suppose. but i know she really wanted that, because it's her favorite food, and we're celebrating, i forgot to say, because i'm so selfish, i can't say it so specifically what accolade she's received but really its for the excellence of her thesis and there's a little money thrown at her for it + this is pretty distinctive for her, and she deserves it, of course, she really is that smart, and she deserves far more than they've given her, they should really, i think, give her so much support, because she really fucking tries in ways people don't always try, in every level of her work, for the students she teaches, for her scholarship, always putting so much thought and research in.

after the bar, sitting and bullshitting a while, we go to the book store where they're doing a special 10 year anniversary reading event for local writers to read their stuff. they had 10 writers come out, the short of it is, a really nice reading, some stuff i quite liked hearing read aloud, surprising lack of poetry, but the prose occasionally surprised me, usually i never am! i think the best there was the co-owner of the bookstore's reading, about a lemur named susie q and her wrath against her owner who becomes pregnant, really funny, naturally very funny, he is a funny and sweet man. the second best... hmmm... i liked this older woman's her name is colette, she talked about scorpions in hers, it was more essayistic than what she described it as, she said prose poem, all the same, it was nice i think and it felt genuine. it's really interesting to me, how rare it is to find people who try to be funny in their writing, i mean, i'm so bad at it too, i basically get it. to see someone who i really had no idea about, the co-owner, i wondered if he'd be a poet actually, or all kinds of things, and he really surprised me, i think most of us, although i think we all imagined he would be rather good.

at the reading was someone we haven't seen in a while, that guy who cheated on my friend but got back together with him because they do i think really love eachother. however, my gf has issues with that guy still because he was like "your other friend is a liar for saying i was trying to fuck one guy i wasn't" and it's just like sure whatever dude. seeing him was interesting, he kind of just hung around the rest of the night until we got away from him at another bar and he called our one friend, hey why did you not come to (x) place i thought you'd all be here!! and it was like oh,,.. sorry... blah blah blahhh. at the reading, also, my gf spilled wine on me, i was holding her cup of wine, i said something funny, she started swatting at me and it spilled all over the tights i was wearing!! really annoying, but whatever, i shouldn't care at all.

he's basically nice, still, he's funny, easy to bullshit with, for better and worse it's easy for me to forgive him or just act normal, he does his best to make things feel normal, or if not normal, just, fine, whatever, everything being roughly okay.

basically we sat at one bar, then went to another, my gf getting more and more drunk over the night, getting basically super duper wasted, more than she's ever been, by the end of the night. in between bars, we went to a sex store, she bought a vibrator and i keep wonder i guess, about the videos of her favorite guy, the way he seems to express a sort of virility, even though she always says things like "you just know he's a bottom" it seems like he's less interested in being a corpse than i am, and that's fine, and then the thing she now has, which i can also use to be fair, even though the rabbit ear bit will do nothing for me the weird rotating thing inside would probably feel good to my insides, it's a rather violent machine compared to anything i can really do, i guess, is what i think seeing it, i don't know, i don't feel impotent or replaced, i just feel distant or something, like i said, there's a thing that appeals to a loneliness, or a kind of loneliness natural to being a person, i don't know, is it my fault she has it in the first place? i'm lonely too in my ways, such as, i feel distant from everyone, even her, even as well as she understands me, sometimes i feel foreign, i feel foreign to everything, like i'm a stranger to myself and i am still saddled with the task of translating myself, and there's things dreamed up by capital, basically, to alleviate that pain, or, is this pain even real? maybe it's our being convinced of it on some level that gives it any strength, and it's an illusion, it feels illusory, i'm no different from anything else, people and coral, i'm just emptiness with stuff around it.

either way, or, is there any other way, i feel digressive tonight, i don't know, all i can say is, i don't know. i don't think the bad feelings come from a dildo so much, which like i said i can use those were only some thoughts i had, really it's seeing things like the fleshlights, the huger fake but still human cocks, the outfits, the women working there who seemed to know a lot, the fleshlights especially, anime sex dolls, i don't know. i guess especially the things where we see the workings of the patriarchy, and also i guess, looking for something i would want inside myself, and there being very little really. sometimes fingers (or fist, if i'm feeling excessive i suppose (sometimes i do feel so)), just feels better than those things. sometimes i like the fucking or whatever of something penis shaped, because it lets me feel like i'm being fucked, but either way, i don't know, is this tmi? tonight's been too much really. commodities, relationships with non-people, people packaged and sold in portions, collectable and easy to store, the division of gender in these, how men get one set of objectification where they seem to possess themselves and in fact sell themselves, their power over preserved, and women wholly abstracted to a warm spot and some functions.

overall she just wanted to blow reward money on something nice for us i guess and it's nice, i hope she's not ashamed of it, i just want her to be happy, i'm always confused by my own feelings.

then my gf went to go get super drunk at this other bar and i had a nice time there too, we were all together just chatting, i was happy to talk to our friend more there, or we talked the whole night, there was a point at the other bar we were talking about current events, the misery of that, and here she told us sex stories which i won't recount, just that she was telling us these things because she felt close to us, or feels close to us, really likes us. i really like her, she's a sort of friend i don't think i've had before really, or, not true, she's like one of the people i'd get close to online as a friend, just someone i could talk to a lot, enjoy a lot, have around other people, always talking about nonsense, but here, you know, and having someone like that makes talking to others looser, my gf is like that too, i may have made it sound like she 'doesn't get me' but i think she does, i hope i get her, she makes living in the world and among others so much easier and better, really much better, more funny, more joyous, everything increased, that means even the stuff that makes me feel fucked up though i guess. anyway, we were all talking, my gf gets more wasted than she's ever been in her life, and then we get in the car, our friend leaves her phone on the sidewalk we go back for it, it's there of course, we continue to go get tacos somewhere, or they'll get tacos, my gf is like, i can't eat, i can't eat, and in the drivethru, she eventually gets to feel so sick (because, maybe, i am making incest jokes (maybe evil... i dunno... i was doing it earlier, she was laughing... i do it all the time... it's funny to me... sorry...)), that she vomits, in 5 or 6 bursts, everyone's quiet a bit, and then everyone's like, it's okay, it's okay, i'm not saying that, i feel bad about it, but i'd feel like i was lying, since i was like, i have to make sure and follow through on making everything okay like cleaning our friend's car and cleaning the clothes at least enough and getting her in bed but i had some help when we got home, but the car ride home was unpleasant and blah blah blah i just went and said what i wouldn't do and did other things and cut my hair more and the car ride reeked of vomit and i don't know why but being alone right now makes me feel insane, when people are drunk, it's like they aren't there, it's just someone wandering around clueless like a child, it makes me so unhappy sometimes. sometimes not though. sometimes it's okay.

i cut my hair more, i think i'm going to hate it. i was happy with it other days. i was not happy with it at 5 am now it's 7 am i cut my hair more and did other things and am unhappy with myself and delirious, whatever.

i came home, cleaned my friends car of vomit, other friend helped my girlfriend out of her clothes, got her to bed, she was worried about me being upset at her, i'm not upset at her, sometimes the world is too much, it just happened and we had to deal with it and i don't like the smell and cleaning the clothes when we got home was unpleasant and time consuming but it's okay and it's okay that she puked and i talked to people about times they got puked on and it was funny and okay, i did the bad stuff just because of feeling ugly and burned out and like i'm dealing with an impossible problem and i don't really want to be myself at all.

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[moxiemaemaple]

Building.

I've been doing a bunch of random things to make money. Trying to get some funds so I can have enough to pay back the money I had loaned as well as…live. It is expensive in this city. I'm constantly feeling like I'm making money to just eat.

I woke up today outside the city, in a small town. I was working at the gopostal delivering packages. I realized they had me working out of that warehouse and cheaping on pay. Here I'm driving hours in and out of the city getting the same pay as someone who makes less a commute working at a warehouse in the city. So I'll be looking for a new gopostal warehouse to work at. I'm not going to keep getting jipped on pay!

In other news though me and Crow did some random contract work. I guess people who need shit down, or materials for whatever post up on this public board. You can take the postings and fill them and make a bit more money doing it. I'll be working on that now when I can! We did some power washing. It was a bit of a whole thing to get started but once I got the hang out of it I quite liked spraying gunk off of shit. Very satisfying.

It was a bit out of the blue but after that Crow wanted to get a tattoo. We stopped at a shop and while he was getting some work done he had another thing to share with me. Wasn't another teddy bear or other gift like that, honestly was something far more meaningful.

He showed me his face. I leave people and their masks alone. I never question it. I wear a mask of my own after all. He told me his real name, explaining why sometimes things were listed strange on paperwork and such in the past I had seen. I was a bit speechless. I don't know how to communicate emotions very well…I realize I just get too nervous to speak sometimes.

I feel honored he wanted to share his truth with me. Makes me feel rot knowing I hide my own identity. I can't take it off…not that easy. Maybe it is but the fear stops me.

Later we went to his place and I realized what a man cave it was. Guy has a whole house and left it empty! Except a bed and some tables they had a bunch of tools and shit all over. I decided to put my skills to use and build…I know…I know what I'm thinking. I already built a whole house before for someone…and- lets not think about it.

I know I shouldn't build for others. I can't help it…what is wrong with me? At least when I asked for money for more plaster he didn't question or fuss. I managed to get the floor plan laid out. I'll have to go back and have the builders repaint the walls. A crow like its black and I went with beige mom aesthetic. Easily fixable!

I realized how good I am at…building. I thought about maybe helping others and their own DIY projects by maybe making a video on how I do things. Share my knowledge. Building…always building… am I building again for villains in disguise?

I don't know if I'll ever tell Crow what my name is really. He probably already knows. My 'secretary' takes all my calls on the yellow pages…and also is the name that logs into the labor app when I'm clocking into work. Feel kinda stupid. Guilty? A struggle.

Some wear literal masks, some wear wigs and make up.

He blacked out his arms. I wonder what tattoos he hid under them… I thought about having more done for myself, trying to cover the ones I have a bit. The one on my leg already exposed me to someone in the past before. A tribalish tat I got done at a festival while high off my rocker. I decided at the time it was a awesome to try and get a stick an poke tattoo. So there I am for hours with some girl poking me by hand over and over. Eventually the high started coming down and we had to finish with a ink gun. The pain was bad. My leg looked like hot garbage for so long till the healing phase passed. Now it is just like a birthmark, recognizing feature forever on my left calf. Someone awful of my past found me just by seeing it. Insane I know, but its true. There is that paranoia. Fear of nothing known. I can't even have my tattoos out without feeling exposed.

I'll tell my friends the truth one day. Though I rather continue to be Trixie. If someone calls me Maple again I'll die inside.