#patti lupone gifs

[itberice]

Agatha All Along I Death's Hand in Mine

[end0r4]

Lilia and Alice being absolutely adorable together

+ sweet words

requested by @madamspellmans-met-tet

[hype-queer-fixated]

i am fandom

[adivinationwitch]

But you survived, in a way few do.

[down-in-dixie]

Patti LuPone on the red carpet for Agatha All Along.

[imorynn]

⋆✩ where the heart finds rest ( l.calderu)

⋆✩ pairings : lilia calderu • fem!reader

⋆✩ warnings / mentions : depictions of mental health struggles, burnout, anxiety, emotional distress, comfort, mentions of nudity, baths, angst, fluff, lilia taking care of you! please prioritize your well-being

⋆✩ word count : 3k+

⋆✩ tags : @madamspellmans-met-tet

⋆✩ a/n : Please remember to be kind to yourself. Take breaks if you need to, allow yourself to feel, and seek comfort in the things that bring you joy and peace. You are never alone in your struggles, and your feelings — whatever they may be — are valid, you matter. This was a little heavy to write, but I hope this brings you a bit of comfort and joy <3

The room languished in dimness, its corners softened by the hesitant embrace of twilight, as another indistinct day bled into obscurity. A chaos of papers sprawled across the desk — half-filled notebooks, annotated drafts, and crumpled failures that bore the scars of fleeting inspiration turned sour. Shards of fractured thoughts clung to the edge of a ceramic mug, long abandoned, its contents a cold, bitter shadow of former comfort. Amidst the disarray, a faint, rhythmic clicking emanated from the keyboard, the cadence uneven — hesitant, then frenzied — as if each keystroke could carve coherence from the labyrinth of your mind.

Your body had betrayed you weeks ago. Sleep came in fits and bursts, cruel in its inadequacy, leaving you more fatigued upon waking than when you had closed your eyes. Standing for longer than a few moments brought on vertigo, the world tilting like a ship caught in a storm. Your legs trembled under you; your limbs would not stop from racketing. Even sitting upright had become an exercise in endurance, your focus slipping like grains of sand through tightened fists. Your day-to-day flow was unmoored, the concept of time fractured into pieces of light and shadow that no longer adhered to the clock. You could not help but feel hideous, an empty shell of the person you used to be. Even your brain, once sharp and unyielding, has turned against you. It demands stimulation, then recoils at the slightest effort, leaving you stultified and overwhelmed in equal measure. The cruel paradox is almost laughable, but you can’t even summon the energy for that.

Your posture betrayed the toll; shoulders curved under an invisible yoke, neck stiffened by hours of neglect, digits quivering with a fatigued urgency as they alternated between scrawling ink onto paper and translating disoriented thoughts onto the sterile glow of the monitor. The screen’s light painted your face in stark relief, illuminating knitted brows and eyes ringed with exhaustion.

Each line you wrote — whether traced by pen or clacked with desperate precision — felt both like a purge and a plea, a futile effort to wrest order from the chaos that churned within you. The words blurred together as you read and reread them, dissecting each syllable, cataloging for meaning in the spaces where meaning seemed to slip away. The soft hum of the computer blended with the shift of cushions beneath you and the whisper of paper beneath your hand, a symphony of toil that bore the weight of an unrelenting inner storm. And still, you could not stop. Could not stop chasing the fleeting promise that, perhaps, the next word might finally bring clarity — or at least silence— to the tempest.

Lilia had been patient — that is, at the beginning. Truth be told, she always harbored such grand patience when it came to you. She had tried coaxing you to bed with the tenderness of a woman who had weathered storms far greater than this, easing the pen from your clutch with soft murmurs that sought to bind you in reason. But reason, elusive and foreign, had long since slipped from your grasp. The days had obscured, each one bleeding into the next, and with them, so had her forbearance. What began as gentle encouragement turned to silent insistence, her words firmer, her gaze heavier, until tonight, she stood at the precipice of your unraveling.

Her figure filled the doorway, the tender light casting shadows across her features, etching worry into every delicate line. The ends of her maroon-tinted mouth, once so quick to curl into the warmest and loving smile for you, were clasped with exasperation, and her dark irises glimmered with something more profound than concern — a tightly woven twine of frustration, sorrow, and love she could no longer conceal.

She found you hunched on the couch, a blanket tangled around your clammy frame, loosely draping over your shoulders. You did not even notice her at first, too lost in the fog of your own misery.

Finally, she moved forward, her footsteps deliberate and unhurried, like the passing of time itself. Her shadow swept over you before her voice, low and lilting with its natural timbre, cut through the oppressive silence.

“Enough.” The utter was a soft command, steady but resolute.

You did not turn. Could not. Your gaze remained fixated on the page before you, though the words had long since dissolved into meaningless smudges. Ink bled into the fibers like a wound reopened again and again, staining your fingertips and every letter typed over, your palms, your very thoughts. “I can’t,��� you rasped, barely audible, tone hollow and stretched thin. “I’m almost done.”

Her sigh was soft yet audible, a weight in the room that you couldn’t ignore. She stepped closer, the hems of her skirt grazing the floor before her silhouette draped over your hunched form like a caution. “No, you’re not. You’re grinding yourself into dust, darling.”

The truth in her words landed heavily, a stone descending into still water, the ripples quaking through your chest. Yet still, you refused to meet her eyes, refused to acknowledge her underlying honesty. “I said I can’t stop,” you snapped, the sharpness in your tone cracking under its own weight. “Don’t you get it, Lilia? If I stop, everything— everything, just for one second — it all falls apart. I fall apart.”

“And you think this is holding it together?” she retorted, her voice cutting, each remark peeling back another layer of your defiance. “Look at what you’re doing to yourself. Do you even remember the last time you slept? Ate something that wasn’t cold coffee or a stale bag of chips?” The coolness of her rings bit into her digits when they tightened their hold over the cushions, trembling faintly as if she were holding back something fiercer. “I can comprehend that all those things aren’t easy for you, but you’re killing yourself, piece by piece, and for what? To prove you’re enough? To push until there’s nothing left of you?”

The room seemed to diminish in size, her words closing in around you. The dull pain in your chest spasmed, a visceral reaction to the veracity you attempted so hard in brushing aside even if it lingered, it floated, it haunted. For a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the computer and the shallow rasp of your breath, the silence all consuming. Anger and despair warred for control when your arms came up to push against the table in front of you causing her to slightly step back. “You don’t understand! — You don’t know what it’s like to feel this… this useless. To not even recognize your own body, your own mind. To fail at the one thing you’ve always been good at.”

Lilia’s expression softened, the sharp brinks of her frustration giving way to something deeper, sadder. What Lilia saw brought nothing but ache and pain to her poor heart. You were unwell, eyes ringed red, and bags beneath them practically the size of a quarter. While your complexion still carried its hue, it lacked the depth the sun and proper rest brought upon you. She moved closer, her movements deliberate but unthreatening, until she stood beside you, one of her hands grappling with wanting to reach out to still your trembling ones. “I understand more than you think,” she declared quietly, carrying the weight of centuries you could not begin to fathom. “But this… this isn’t strength.” Her hand gestured to the mess, to your body curled in on itself, to the dark hollows beneath your eyes.

“I’m not asking you to stop because I don’t understand,” she gently spoke now but no less wavering. “I’m asking because I do. I’ve been there, trying to outrun the weight of your mind, thinking you can carry it all alone. But you can’t. No one can. And if you keep going like this…” Her voice faltered for a moment. “If you keep going like this, I’m afraid there won’t be anything left of the woman I love to save.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and unrelenting, like a mirror held too close — forcing you to confront the reflection of your unraveling. Your exhale clawed its way up your throat, and your hands finally went still when Lilia’s came in contact with them. The pen slipped from your grip, rolling to the edge of the desk before coming to a halt.

You wanted to argue at first, to push her away, but the fight had drained out of you. The tears came suddenly, unbidden, hot, and relentless, cascading down your cheeks. “I don’t know how to stop,” you whispered, words barely audible over the sound of your sobs. One of your hands came up to bury into your tangled hair, defiance slipping into a broken plea. “I don’t know how.”

The space between her shoulders welcomed your exhausted physique, arms encircling to swaddle you just right because gods, you needed this. Your head bowed into her chest as she drew you into her shawl, her heat, her strength, her homely fragrance. She did not shush you, feed you with false hopes or tell you it would be okay now; she simply held you, her hand stroking your hair despite its matted and disheveled state, her presence grounding you in a way that felt both painful and necessary. The sobs came in waves, wracking your body with a ferocity that left you gasping. Lilia held you as though you were something precious, palms cradling you with the utmost care, her lips falling over your forehead in murmured reassurances.

“Come, my love,” She reached down and she coaxed you gently to your feet. She wrapped an arm around your waist and you wrapped yours around her neck for stability.

She guided you into the bathroom, positioning your body over the closed toilet seat. “Sit here while I draw you a bath. ” You sat down with a sigh, tipping your head back against the wall behind the toilet and letting your eyelids flutter shut for a moment, trying to ignore the pounding of your temples. And although your eyes were closed, your brow remained quirked. As if even in your thoughts you came face to face with the problems you were trying to avoid. You heard the pause of movements before a soft kiss was met with your forehead, somewhat easing all the tightness you were undergoing, and that little smile of yours was enough for her to resume her actions.

You heard the streams of water running, followed by the soft shuffling of Lilia’s movements; she worked with quiet and deft efficiency, adding a few drops of oil that released a grounding aroma in the air. Steam rose around you and softened the edges of the room in gentle swirls, carrying the fragrance of herbs and oils — lavender, chamomile, a hint of rosemary. All serene and soothing within your aching lungs as you inhaled deeply. The tinge of citrine within the atmosphere made you open your eyes, already sensing your lover hovered above you.

Lilia’s chocolate browns swirled softly with compassion and love, leaking reassurance before she crouched between your legs. “Let me help you, my heart.” Her graceful fingers worked methodically to unbutton your shirt, to slip it from your shoulders with such a tenderness that made your throat tighten, blinking back tears at the nickname she tended to call you, your head dipping down. Her touch never lingered too long, never straying from what was necessary. When you were exposed before her, vulnerable in a way that has nothing to do with nudity, she does not gaze at you with pity or repugnance. Only love. Fierce, unyielding love.

She stood from between your legs and held her hands out for you to take, which you obliged. You delicately placed your hands in hers and stood up. She undid the string of your pants and slid them down your lower body as you stepped out of them.

“You don’t have to do anything,” she whispered when your forehead brushed her temple, her fingers moving to tuck a damp curl behind your ear.

You did not resist as she helped you into the water, the soaked warmth enveloping you like a cocoon. A soreness took over, yet you welcomed the capacity of it, the tension in your muscles unwinding in increments as the heat seeped into your aching joints. “I’ll go get you a towel and set out some fresh clothes.”

You trembled from its temperature, and while the act somewhat alleviated your body’s ache, it did not reach or thaw the hollow coldness concealed in your chest. You sat in the center of the tub, knees drawn to your bare chest, shoulders hunched like a battered bird too afraid to unfold its wings. The water glimmered faintly, lavender-scented and calm, a direct contrast to the tempest inside you. You stared blandly at the surface but could not bring yourself to move.

Lilia returned back into the bathroom and was met with your expression. The light pranced across her features — those soft laugh lines, her sharp cheekbones, and her ever-watchful gaze that had always seemed to see you, truly see you. You could not bring yourself to meet those eyes now.

“I don’t know why you bother,” you whispered, your voice brittle as a dried leaf, barely holding itself together. You brought your knees tighter into your abdomen, your gaze intended downward as though the clear dampness of it might envelop you entirely. “This isn’t me. I'm not going to stop — I’m not… that version of a person. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

She tilted her head, silver locks framing her features in similar shape to a halo, but her eyes blazed with something sharper than sympathy — resolve. “You’re still you, y/n.”

You shook your head vehemently, tears glazing your eyes as you attempted to form the words that gnawed at your chest. “No, Lilia, I’m not. I’m not the person you fell in love with anymore.” The words spewed out, ragged and raw and shameful. “I’m nothing. I stand here, right before the debris of everything I was, and there’s nothing left — I’m nothing. I don’t even know how… how or why am I still existing.”

Her shawl was discarded, kneeling beside you as her hands, holding a washcloth, dipped into the water and wrung it before shuffling closer. “Tilt your head back for me,” she instructed softly. It was neither commanded nor meek — it was a simple request, spoken with the intimacy of someone who knew how to speak to you when words felt unbearable.

You obeyed, streams of warm water dampening your head. You groaned softly at the feel of warm water on your scalp, slowly letting yourself melt against her touch. Grabbing a bottle of shampoo, she poured a generous amount upon her palm before finding its way to your hair. Discarded from her signature rings, her fingers followed and worked through the unkempt tangles with infinite patience, scrubbing away the residue of neglect, her touch both practical and reverent.

“I know it’s hard to stop,” she began, her hands moving in leisured, circular motions. “You think if you stop, everything will fall apart. That there’s no time to rest. But your body is telling you otherwise. You need to learn and listen. You are wrong, you aren't debris. You are not a ruin.”

A dry and bitter laugh emerged, and you glanced at her finally, your tears uniting with the water droplets pelting your skin, not even sparing a care if the burn of suds collided with your vision. “Look at me,” you croaked. “Look at me, Lilia. I can barely stand without falling over. I can’t sleep. I can’t think. My body is falling apart, my mind’s barely hanging on, my heart — the very heart you say that’s yours and that you love isn’t good! You're right, there's nothing left to save! And I don’t — I don’t know how to put it all back together.” Your breath hitched as a sob tore through you. “I don’t know why you’re still here. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t — if you didn’t love me anymore.”

“How dare you.”

You blinked, taken aback, oxygen cutting off as you completely met her gaze. Her orbs were moistened, yet they were fierce, unfaltering in their intensity.

“How dare you think so little of my love,” she spoke firmly and loudly and hurt laced every utterance. Foamed fingers wounded around your shoulders and turnt you towards her in one smooth motion. “Do you think my love is conditional? That it’s so fragile, so shallow, that it would shatter because you are struggling? You, who have shown and given me everything — every piece of yourself, every ounce of your light, your soul, who has taught me to find my way back. Do you think I would abandon you now, when you need me most?”

Her words demolished you, the sheer force of them tearing through the walls you had built around your remorse and despair. Streaks of tears once more down your drenched cheeks, her thumbs stroking them away, her fingers swiftly swatting back the mingled water and soap from your eyes as she tipped your chin up and lightly kissed your forehead.

“My darling girl, let me continue helping you. Let me take care of you. You do not have to endure this all alone.”

With a soft nod from you and another kiss from her, this time directed to your lips, she gently turned you around and proceeded to wash your hair, thoroughly swilling every bit.

She then gathered a washcloth and preferred body wash, dipped it into the water, and rubbed it together to get it foamed. She washed you with exact loving care, moving the immersed rag over your tired muscles, cleansing away the grime and the heaviness of the past weeks. She hummed softly under her breath — a melody you do not recognize but find comforting in the velvet brittle of her octave nonetheless — and you close your eyes, surrendering to her ministrations.

"Your hand?" As she uprose fully, without wasting a second you gave her your fingers to hold, and she steadied you onto your feet as you stepped out. She huddled you out of the tub and bundled you in the fuzziest towel you loved. One palm cradled the curve of your cheek while the other steadied upon your covered waist. "let's get you dressed, my love."

You sat at the hem of the bed, partaking in drying yourself up — though she wouldn't allow it — as she smoothed your lotion over your parched skin, gingerly taking in the way the ointment dissolved across your shoulders that was ensued with a soft kiss.

"You are not debris," she repeated as she slid your limbs into fresh and comfy clothes, aware of the way your eyes brimmed with tears. "You are not a ruin, and you most certainly are not 'nothing'." Her movements were unhurried, as though time itself had decelerated and permitted her this moment to care for you.

She does not allow you to lift a finger, guiding you to the bed with a patience that feels endless. The sheets were warm, the pillows plumped just so, and she tucked you beneath the blankets before nestling in beside you. Those cinnamon brown pools engulfed you in their safety assisted with the loving strokes of her fingers upon the side of your face. "If you fall, I will be there to catch you. If you cannot sleep, I will hold you. If you cannot think, then allow me to hold those thoughts for you. If you fall apart, and your mind is barely grasping onto reality, I am going to help build you up again, and again, and again. Every version of you, I love and will continue to love. You are here right now, and that is all that matters to me."

Her arms embraced you in a way that left no ounce for uncertainty —you are hers, and she will care for you, no matter how broken you feel. The pads of her fingers continue soothing patterns on your back, her lips landing in tender kisses on your temple, the crown of your head, your soaked cheeks. “You are not a burden,” The warmth of her words bristled through your shaggy tresses. “You are my love. My heart, do you understand? Let me hold you.”

And so you do. You give her the privilege to hold you, relinquishing to her love. It does obliterate the chaos or untangle the knots within you— it simply cannot, unfortunately. Though in her arms, the compressing load you have carried alone for so long felt just a fraction lighter. The tightness in your chest eased, the burn in your throat subsided, and the tears you have been swallowing for the past days ebbed. You nestled your head in the hollow of her neck, her heartbeat lulled your aching bones, your broken soul, your tender flesh, and you let those tired eyes of yours flutter shut with the feel of her lips grazing your forehead.

[kinglet1963]

So Patti has also fucked Superman...

[madamspellmans-met-tet]

🦂 Dr. Florence Seward Masterlist 🦂

***SFW***

Rapunzel (TW!)

***NSFW****

Husband

***OTHER MEDIA***

here

[aggieharkness]

Forever and Always

Pairing: Lilia Calderu x reader

Summary: No one warns you about how dark the abyss at the cliff's edge can be, how hard it would be to hold on to the rocks as they kept falling around you, the weight on your shoulders nearly too much for you. No one ever does, yet she never failed at saving you from dying under it all, her warm embrace like a protection spell.

Warnings: overworked reader, burnt out, screaming, swearing, self-harm. I don't think I need to add anything else here.

Authors note: I read your post @madamspellmans-met-tet and I thought of writing this. I hope that it is what you had in mind and that it helps your friend find comfort :) If there is anything at all that you don't like, tell me and I'll change it, I wouldn't want to write something hurtful. I hope you like it.

Forever and Always

Rereading the message that had popped up on your phone you just couldn’t believe it. The bright light shone inside the cabin of Lilia’s old car, which she allowed you to borrow so you could get to work and your classes, your eyes going over the words three times before you let your head fall onto the steering wheel nearly making the horn go off. You could feel the tension increasing in every single muscle of your body, the pressure that had been inside your sinuses and the dull nausea that you had carried all day suddenly feeling as if they could wipe you out, frustration filling up every cell down to atomic levels, but you just couldn’t let it pass, it had to be finished tonight, no matter what. Unlocking your phone, you answered Amanda and told her that it was fine, that you could finish her part of the project and send it before twelve tomorrow, but in your mind you were cursing her and her ancestors and her ancestors’ ancestors and beyond. You knew she wasn’t sick, a friend you had in common had told you that she was going down to a party in New York and she would stay there for like three days or so. You could have told her to go and fuck herself but she hadn’t done shit in the past month, and the project needed to be handed out the next day, so you had to stay up all night now, maybe even beg your teacher to let you hand in the assignment one day late and pray that he didn’t deduct points because of it. And on top of that you had to do a double shift down at the coffee shop tomorrow because one of the girls had to have emergency surgery after a skiing accident and you were even more short staffed.

Your fingers were twitching when you picked up your bag from the passenger’s seat, throwing it over your shoulder as you pushed the door open and stepped out into the cold night, your breath steaming up in puffs that twirled up in the air as you locked the car. Your body ached, every bone seemed to hurt, and your throat itched so bad that you had had like three gulps of cough syrups and at least one Tylenol about six hours ago to try and get rid of it, to no avail. Resting your back against the car you closed your eyes for a moment. You were not ready for the disappointed look that Lilia was going to give you the instant you stepped into the shop, but your manager had practically ordered you to lock up tonight and you had had to label also the new arrival of milks and cookies in the freezer, which turned the extra hour into two and a half. You had been supposed to get home at seven and it was now close to ten, and you had hardly been able to tell her that you were going to be late, just a single message that’s she had left on read. With a heavy sigh you crossed the street from the car to the front door, pulling out your keys and pushing the glass open until the warmth of the heating system embraced you, but it didn’t relax you as much as you had expected, you still felt as if you were absolutely freezing. Noises were coming from the back, the clutter of dishes you thought, stopping for a moment when the bell that hung from the ceiling rung melodiously before they returned, unbothered by your entrance it seemed.

In normal circumstances you would have thrown your bag next to the door, not giving two shits, but you needed the books and notes that you had in there, so with heavy steps you made your way to the beady curtain, gently moving it aside, finally arriving home. Lilia was washing the dishes, her back to you. Seeing her body moving as she scrubbed hard, her shoulders square and obviously tense as she worked you wondered if maybe she was mad at you, but there wasn’t really anything you could do when you had to stay late, it was that or unemployment, and you needed the money to pay for college, so there really was no reason why she should be angry. At least you had bothered to warn her this time. But even if she was pissed at you she was far too alluring, and your eyes could not stop watching the way those veiny hands held onto the sponge and plate hard, knuckles nearly white, the way her gown held onto her curves gently as her robe had been discarded over the back of a chair, the flowy material swaying around her bare feet as she rinsed and left the plate on the drying rack. In the air a salty smell lingered, your stomach rumbling at it but the nausea that was still clinging to your insides seeming to disagree with how hungry you felt, the thought of food both appealing and at the same time a horrible idea, though your train of thought derailed when you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket, the quiet moment you were having shattered. Fucking Amanda again you saw, a new text telling you that she was very sorry and that she would make it up to you which you knew was bullshit, followed by a new message saying that Tom, another person you were doing this assignment with, could not finish his part either as he was sick with the same thing she had. Was that code for I’m taking him to New York to fuck him? She had to be kidding.

You were quick to respond, eyebrows furrowed as you typed an answer, telling her that you weren’t sure if you could handle it all, but she retorted that Tom would end up in the hospital if he did any work. Was she for real? Did she think you lived under a fucking rock or something, that you didn’t talk to people? Apparently so, because she finished by saying that she was going to be sick from all that talking and went offline. You hadn’t noticed how Lilia had turned around and was staring at you, drying her hands with a tea towel, the frown that had adorned her forehead turning into worry when she saw your pissed off face as you furiously typed. She hadn’t noticed how pale you were looking, or how deep the bags under your eyes were, but then again you applied so much make up in the morning that it was nearly impossible for her to have noticed when she woke up, perhaps five minutes before you were due to leave for work. She had seen you sick several times in all the time you had been together, but she had never seen you look so run down before, and that worried her. The frustration you were feeling was reaching a breaking point, but you could not afford a bad mark to taint your record, you needed to be a straight A student otherwise you would not get scholarships to investigate, just like you had always dreamt of, you had to push through. You would rest when all this was over, you thought, a little white lie that you had been telling yourself for years now.

Dumping your bag on the kitchen table you hadn’t even looked up to meet Lilia’s eyes, you were far too focused on getting the work done before you collapsed, pulling out several thick books you had borrowed from the library along with the close to four hundred pages worth of notes you had been taking since the beginning of the year, photocopies, schemes and drawings included. Lilia had not moved from her spot, not even an inch, her head following your frame as you headed for the drawers next to the TV and pulled out an old laptop you had been gifted like three years ago, turning back to the table only to lock eyes with her. She looked so beautiful tonight, why did she look so pretty? It wasn’t your anniversary or her birthday, maybe it wasn’t a special occasion, maybe she looked like that always and you had only noticed now, after not having properly looked at her in over a week. There was pang of guilt in your heart, but you couldn’t waste more time, and yet breaking her gaze was such a hard task, she seemed to be pulling you into her arms simply by raising her eyebrows ever so slightly, almost in a questioning manner, but you looked away and sat down. You were actively avoiding talking to her? She felt as if you were pushing her aside, away from you with this behaviour, hurt and anger mingling in her chest, fury glazing her vision as she bent to open the oven. It took the computer a few minutes to unlock, but once the wallpaper and icons were staring back at you, a picture of you and Lilia during a weekend trip to the Grand Canyon, you quickly clicked on the Word document titled “Ontogeny in Ammonoids”, the twenty pages you had written greeting you.

You loved your degree, but you hated it at the same time, scrolling through the pictures and diagrams you had both taken from books and done yourself with the information collected and provided by your teacher. You had loved it when you had first started it, but now you had to add at least twenty more pages, and you didn’t even know where to begin, your head resting on your hands for an instant, closing your eyes as you felt a heavy headache forming. What were you supposed to write? God, you had no fucking clue what their parts were, it was as if your brain had turned to sudden mush and you could not even comprehend a basic sentence, let alone carry on with this bloody project. Suddenly there was a loud bang right next to the computer, your head jerking up so fast that a whipping feeling hit your neck, rendering you immobile for a few moments, eyes looking at an oven tray that had landed on top of your notes, the dark sauce of a rotisserie chicken splattered over the words, staining and making some of the ink run.

-Lilia! What the hell?! – you pushed the tray hurriedly to the side, inspecting the damage done as anger rose in your veins. Looking up briefly at her you saw an angry smirk on her lips, hands on her hips. So now she wanted to be a bitch, great, as if you needed more people testing your patience.

-Oh, you are home, I didn’t see you there.

-What the fuck?!

-Don’t curse at me Y/N!

-What the hell do you expect when you’ve ruined my notes?!

-I expect you to look at me when you come home, for you to give me an explanation as to why you its ten and you’ve just only arrived!

-I can’t say no to my manager Lilia, you know this! – some of the words were unintelligible, impossible to fix unless you redid the entire page, front and back, anger spiking to the point that you feared anything at all could make it burst. And to top it all you were wasting time! You had deadlines and you need to be at the coffee shop at seven! You were going to have to pull an all-nighter– Fuck, I’m going to have to redo this.

-As if you do anything else.

You glared up at her, but the anger subsided when suddenly you had a coughing fit, turning your face away from her and covering your mouth with your hand. Lilia had turned around at the speed of light upon hearing you, bending her body over the kitchen table to check on you, worry painting her features. All the fight had left your body after that, the exhaustion slamming onto your body without mercy, as you let it fall back onto the chair. Lilia was still upset with you, but after what she had just seen it was obvious that you weren’t just tired, no, you were getting sick, and yet you turned your attention back to the computer, sighing deeply when you looked at your notes and then back at the screen. She felt quite guilty about what she had done, thinking that perhaps it had been rather childish form her part, so in an attempt to fix it she moved the tray away to plate some of the chicken along with the sauce, putting it aside while she went to grab a glass of water, adding a bit of lemon and a hint of honey, a little remedy she had been using for centuries now. Once that was done, she turned and rounded one of the corners of the table to sit on the only chair that laid facing you, but your eyes were glued to the screen, typing and then deleting only to type again, and you still didn’t like what you were writing. The touch of Lilia’s soft skin on your hand made you pause, turning your blurry eyes in her direction. Maybe you had been rude, but you had spent a lot of time working on those notes, rewriting them would take a couple of hours for sure.

-Tell me the truth Y/N, are you okay?

-I’m fine, I’m just tired.

-I’ve seen you tired, and you are never like this.

-I’m sorry, but what you did was really shitty.

-I know, I’m sorry. I was angry; you’ve never come home like this, without even saying a word. Maybe you need to stop and sleep.

-I would love to, but I can’t. Amanda and Tom bailed on me, and we have to upload this to the net tomorrow and there’s so much work left.

-Can’t you talk with your teacher, get an extension?

-He’s an ass, he won’t do it, he doesn’t care. I just need to finish this, Lilia. I promise I’ll rest when I’m done.

-I’m giving you one hour, if you are not done in an hour, I’m sorry, but you are not finishing it, I’m dragging you to bed.

-Fine. Just… let me get on with it.

-Alright. You have dinner behind your computer, and don’t tell me that you are not hungry because I know that you haven’t had a bite to eat since lunch time, if you’ve had lunch. Just eat, okay?

You nodded without much effort, knowing perfectly well that you were not really going to have much of the chicken, but you did grab the water, the warm liquid soothing your sore throat slightly. Lilia could feel the way you were melting, the way your resolution was slipping, but she also knew that you were not going to really stop, you were unable to, she had to let you get to a certain point, she just hoped that she didn’t accidentally let you go past said point. With a quiet sigh she stood and kissed your forehead, heading back to tidy the dishes and clean the sink as you poured yourself back into the assignment. Word after word you seemed to be filling up pages, adding pictures and moving in between the text and the references, but your body was giving up on you. You could feel the way your fingers were heavy over the keyboard, how your eyesight was becoming blurry, the paragraphs you had written dancing before you, coughing every few minutes into the crook of your elbow and yet you did not stop, you couldn’t stop. Lilia’s alarms were going off every time she heard you, but she had promised you an hour, though it was becoming harder and harder to keep her promise when her eyes could see from her spot on the couch how you were getting progressively worse, to the point that half of your precious notes had slipped down to the floor and you hadn’t even noticed.

She should have stopped you then, a mistake from her part, she had simply thought it a slip up, but when she heard you curse under your breath and beginning to delete like a maniac, a frustrated huff escaping your lips before you banged your head on the kitchen table, she knew she had stop you right away.  It had not even been thirty minutes, but she just couldn’t let you carry on, pushing herself off the couch and walking towards your spot with quick steps. The wood dug onto your forehead, but you didn’t care about it much, not when you had spent three whole pages writing about the wrong group of cephalopods and your whole head throbbed as your headache worsened, a pulsating feeling behind your eyes that increased the pressure on your sinuses as well. You felt like utter shit, actually that might not even cover it, your face squashed against the table, your arms hanging from your sides like ropes that seemed to weight as if they were lead, so heavy that you just couldn’t lift them back onto the table. Sitting once again on the chair that was facing you, Lilia took your face in between her hands and pushed you up until you were resting against the back of the chair, cradling your cheeks, noticing that your eyes were glassy, your face slightly clammy to the touch, cheeks blushing but it wasn’t due to something cheeky she had said, no, Lilia could feel how hot your skin felt against her palm. That’s it, she thought.

-You are done, darling. – her voice was quiet, nearly a whisper, but it boomed against the bones of your skull.

-What? No, I still have at least six other points that I need to address.

-I don’t care Y/N. You are sick, you need to sleep.

-No, I don’t! – you pushed her touch from you, missing the coolness of her hands against your skin the instant they left you even though they were still holding onto your hands, fingers intertwined, but you needed to carry on. She had said an hour, and it had only been twenty minutes, you could push through, you could do it. – I need to get this done or I will fail.

-Then fail.

-What? – there was the anger again, rising and bubbling inside your chest as you pushed her hands off your body completely, sitting properly back in front of the computer while still looking at Lilia utterly dumbfounded at her words. - You know how important this is for me!

-Yes, but I’m not going to let it practically kill you!

-Wow, that’s just being overdramatic, don’t you think?

-Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?! You are two seconds away from collapsing on me Y/N!

-I’m perfectly fine, I’m just tired! Honestly, I make a mistake and get frustrated and suddenly I’m an instant away from laying in a coffin?!

-If you don’t stop you might! Just leave it, it’s not that important Y/N.

-It might not be to you! Can’t you understand that if I finish this and I get an A I will have a perfect record?! I will get scholarships and job offers!

-So some job in a boring office is more important than your health?!

-Don’t act so surprised, as if you didn’t know that I’ve done it before. I will rest when I’m done, so please Lilia, let me finish the fucking thing!

-Don’t curse Y/N. And no, you are very much done. – without warning she closed up the laptop and grabbed it, your hands far too slow to hold on to it before she could actually remove it from the table, the thick book you had resting next to it closing with a loud thud. She had stood and moved away from the kitchen area into the living room, rounding the couch and muttering something under her breath so that an instant later two thick yellow chains appeared wrapping themselves around the computer, letting it rest on top of the coffee table. She had to be fucking kidding; you thought she would understand! Lifting yourself from the chair had been a harder task than you had anticipated, the world around you faintly, but you still stood on slightly shaky legs and headed her way, fury seeping from every pore in your body as you knelt over the carpet.

-Don’t play with me Lilia! Open it!

-No. I don’t like using my magic like this, but if it’s the only way to get you stop, I will.

-DON’T DO THIS TO ME LILIA! OPEN IT!

-Don’t scream at me! I won’t tolerate it! I’m doing this for your own good.

-Please Lilia, I need to finish this, please!

-I’m sorry, I can’t.

-You are such a bitch!

-Excuse me?!

-You heard me! You are being a bitch! – the temperature in the room was absolutely scorching, your jacket coming off, your hands throwing it onto the couch without you even noticing, as if your movements were on autopilot, nails trying to pry the laptop open, but it didn’t do any good, it was perfectly shut. In anger you turned your head to look at her, tears stinging your eyes. - What do you want?! All my attention, that’s why you are trying to ruin my life?!

-NO! Can’t you see what all this is doing to you?! I want you to stop killing yourself! You don’t deserve it Y/N.

-I’m doing what I’ve always done, Lilia, I can’t afford a slip up like this!

-And I can’t let you carry on. You need to stop, you are sick, you’ve overworked yourself so much that you’ve made yourself sick. Why can’t you understand that?

-Why can’t YOU understand that if I can’t stop! I’ve never stopped, I don’t know how to!

The tears were running down your cheeks now, burning your skin as if they were molten lava, leaving streaks on your clammy flesh as they fell drop by drop onto your lap, your hands letting go of the laptop in defeat as your body dropped onto the carpet, back resting on the couch. How did one stop, how could anyone stop what they’ve only known for their entire life? You had never done anything but work and study, you had never simply sat down to do nothing for whole weeks at a time, there was always some shift at the coffee shop, some assignment, some presentation that needed to be done for the next day. You only knew how to work yourself down to the bone and beyond and you knew that it was reaching a breaking point, but you just didn’t know what to do. Lilia saw you crumbling in front of her eyes, rushing and kneeling next to you to gather your shaking frame in her arms, swaying back and forth in a soothing motion. She had expected this to happen since she had seen you come in, and yet she felt so unprepared, unsure of what to say but if there was one thing she was sure about was that you needed her, and she would be there. Her eyes were looking at nothing, zoned out as every fibre of her being concentrated on you and the way your tears soaked her dress, your face pressed against her chest.

She might have been rude, cruel even, but you needed to hear it, needed to realise just how fucked up it was for people to overwork you like this, until you were so burnt out that you couldn’t even keep your immune system healthy and strong. You could not help being like this, doing the only thing you knew, but that didn’t mean Lilia could not help you see beyond, after all that was her thing as a divination witch. Looking down at you she could not help noticing some purple marks that painted the skin of your forearms, squinting to try and get a better look, distinguishing the blistered skin and burnt flesh surrounding each circular mark. They didn’t seem to be fresh, as if they had happened today or the day before, but they were certainly not old wounds. Carefully she pushed you away from her body, your eyes blinking through the tears in confusion, feeling how she took your wrist gently with one hand and pushed your sleeve up so she could take a better look. Oh, crap, you had totally forgotten about them.

-Y/N? – you turned your head towards the floor, unable to hold her gaze, those deep eyes watching you with worry, but she took hold of your chin and tenderly lifted your head. – What happened?

-I swear I didn’t do it on purpose… the first time. – you felt so ashamed about it all, how had you let your life become this… this sea of torment just to get the life you thought you were supposed to have. This wasn’t the way to do it, it couldn’t be. Your hand had travelled up to your mouth out of its on accord, the nail of your thumb in between your teeth as if the motion could make you feel less of the embarrassment that was coursing through your limbs. – I was at the shop, and I bumped into Jerry out in the terrace and his cigarette hit my arm. It was an accident but then… I bought a packet and… did it myself.

-You’ve been hurting yourself? Why?

-I… I’m not sure. When Jerry’s cigarette hit my skin, I felt… something and…

-And what?

-The pain somehow helped me push through, carry on with everything. I wanted that. I needed it.

-Darling.

-I know what you are going to say. I should have been more careful; I shouldn’t have continued.

-No, love, you should have asked for help.

-Help?

-All this is too much for you, you can’t do it all, you are only human.  – it was so tenderly the way she cradled your face in her hands again, her fingers twirling your hair in between them as her thumbs wiped the tears that were still falling. -You can’t hurt yourself so that the adrenaline helps you carry on. You can’t hide the exhaustion and the frustration behind a veil of pain Y/N.

-How do I stop Lilia?

-By saying no. People take advantage of you, they think that since you are efficient, they can simply tell you to do it all, but you can’t let them do that. Learning how to say no will help you in the long run, trust me.

-So, I simply fail?

-You tell your teacher what happened and if he doesn’t like it, I will personally talk with him and request an extension. But it won’t be tomorrow; I was not kidding when I said that you were sick, you are running a temperature, darling. You are closing your books for today and going to sleep.

-And work? I have a double shift tomorrow.

-You’ve got sick days, use them. Let me carry what you can’t, Y/N.

She always knew what to say, what to do to make you feel like the world wasn’t crushing you under its weight when you very much felt as if it were, and with your hands holding onto the neckline of her gown you pushed yourself against her chest to hide your tears back into the warmth of her soft bosom. You had wanted nothing more than to cross the threshold of the beady curtain and let your exhausted body fall into her embrace, the silence of the room broken only by her sweet words, whispered lovingly in your ear as you both fell on the couch, the coolness of her skin comforting the tears that had gathered in your eyes. Those same tears that you were now crying as you let your walls crumble around you. Lilia wrapped her arms around your form, letting you break, fall apart. You had been holding on for far too long, you had been dangling from the top of a building with only on finger to keep you there for years now, you had to let yourself fall, you had to let your body step away from all that was destroying you and simply feel gravity pulling you down onto the ground, because once you reached it there would be no blood, no bones breaking over the pavement, only the soft gentle touch of Lilia keeping you safe and nestle in her arms. Both of you swayed back and forth on the floor, the carpet digging on Lilia’s knees, but she would not move, not until you were ready, and by the way you were holding onto her it would be a long time before she would part from you. With a kiss to the top of your head she pressed her cheek to your soft locks, her fingers rubbing your back and drawing lazy patterns over your t-shirt.

-Promise me one thing Y/N.

-What? – your voice was muffled by her chest, the vibrations reverberating through her body, but she still understood you, a small smile painting her lips for a moment.

-You will never hurt yourself again.

-I promise.

-And please, if you need help, if you need me, tell me. I’m always here for you, darling. Always.

[multixfan]

THE LAST PICSS

PATTI LUPONE IS GOING TO BE IN ANOTHER SHOW???

[delusionalforolderwomen]

Im sorry am i supposed to believe avis amberg has never kissed a girl??? Are we seeing the same person orr???

Me to avis:

[end0r4]

life is miserable rn but HEY YOU GUYS IF YOU CARE JUST KNOW THAT AVIS AMBERG GIFS WILL ARRIVE VERY VERY SOON

let me know (if you want to) if I should post them once or twice a week

[hype-queer-fixated]

Nellie Lovett / Sweeney Todd in Concert (2001)

[hype-queer-fixated]

you're right and you should say it

no offense but no two fictional characters have ever matched each other's freak like mrs. lovett and sweeney todd match each other's freak during "a little priest". the fact that it doesn't work out for them (he burns her alive in an oven) doesn't change that.

[livingfandomly]

Shocking that when you focus on quality and give the story to actual writers they can successfully cement a character, give you her entire backstory, make you fall in love with her and make you cry when they kill her off, all in a span of 30mins.

[stevenrogered]

AGATHA ALL ALONG | 1x07, "Death's Hand in Mine"