#SHE PICKED IT OUT HERSELF AND ALL

[purplenope]

If I had a nickel for every time my mom’s accidentally bought me a shirt with naked people on it I’d have two nickels which isn’t a lot but it’s amazing that it’s happened twice

[rottengurlz]

she’s like if the virgin mary smoked a pack of pall malls every day 🚬

[yaraanderson]

No judgment on anyone who disagrees, but please tell me I'm not the only one who thinks it's incredibly out of character for Abby to be a Med Student in Modern AUs. Canon Abby grew up around doctors. The fact that there is absolutely No Indication that she ever intended to follow in her dads footsteps despite plentiful opportunities tells me a whole lot.

She's smart enough to have been a doctor, with all the self-discipline needed to succeed without a doubt. But she Clearly Didn't Want to. She knows about medical stuff the same way I know a lot of facts about my own dad's job, a job I have No Intention of following him into, but still like learning about.

Abby literally tells Mel that she'd never have been able to be a surgeon. That her anxiety about accidentially hurting people would have been too much.

Abby wasn't her dad's student with Mel, and that tells me Everything I need to know about a Modern AU Abby, ~unless~ you go the she felt pressured into it and secretly hates it route.

[some-pers0n]

"Burn would be terrible as a queen!! She would continue on the war for fun" No she wouldn't lol. There's no reason to. Burn strikes me as a person who sticks to her word and alliances. Scarlet and Moorhen were her trusted allies and she promised them peace for as long as she lived. The remaining territory seems useless to fight for, with the Ice Kingdom being a desolate tundra, the Sea Kingdom being quite literally the ocean, and the Rainforest Kingdom being just some spot. She criticized Scarlet's arena for being pointless bloodshed for the sake of it.

She loves war and fighting, but she doesn't want to wage a war just for fun. She's got other hobbies, like killing visibly disabled dragons and stuffing them to keep in her tower. I think she should also kill people for fun. That's why she's the best pick. Look at her. I trust her as queen.

[kris-mage-fics]

Allow me to present this gorgeous magazine cover of Chase and Kyrahlise I commissioned from @javs-arts! I love it so much! <3

[swan2swan]

Sammy is absolutely delighted to learn that Yaz can pick up on subtle cues and romantic gestures!

[tomato-ace]

if you would like to step on a landmine you should look at the original tags i placed on there the first time and you should know ket saintelmo informed me it wasnt a coincidence, family photo in mind she chose that damn pose on purpose 👍

[mangotelevision]

I needed katelyn to snap in diaries like genuinely, I wanted her to lose it in season three and leave everyone and do her own thing for some reason or another. Maybe it was for noble reasons, something akin to her own form of a vigilante, maybe it was selfish reasons. Maybe it was about the Jury, running away from her sins of the past, maybe it was to find the family she had forgotten after all this time, the family she was sure would have forgotten about her as well. I would've liked to see her and Lucinda do a little team up or something, maybe even Abby. I just feel like we didn't get a lot of katelyn lore or character development, and she was so tightly wound in that last season I think she was destined to snap for some reason or another

[elizabethrobertajones]

What I am getting from the new short story is that Wuk Lamat needs a hot shetona girlfriend who juuust superficially resembles Erenville in some ways to make him kind of uncomfortable but never enough to actually say something to anyone.

Also, she is basically the chosen one of the jock lesbian orange cat type guys, born to it in a way Alisaie had to fight and scrape to achieve :')

[aeolianblues]

was kinda thinking about this when I saw Renee Rapp live recently-- I didn't know her visual vibe, I'd heard a few songs here and there but I hadn't really *seen* her, and her attire at Osheaga was really casual, a jersey (baseball/basketball?) and slacks. And that was so amazing! I couldn't help thinking, the work Billie Eilish has done for how women in pop music are allowed to dress is incredible. Seeing her up there all comfortable you just know that Billie walked in her oversized tops so that Renee in her slacks could run; Billie walked through all the critcisms about how she dressed slobbily and having to assert that she didn't owe anyone a display of skin, so that Renee could be comfortable and unquestioned running up and down the catwalk in front of 10,000 people. How iconic.

And I don't think we even realised at the time how much something as simple as letting Billie dress the way she as a (then-) 17-year-old teenager dressed, could end up meaning for a future generation of women in music.

Obviously there is still way to go, there were weirdos complaining about how 'plain' Dua Lipa's Glastonbury outfit was this year (in 2024!!), l have to ask, are you at Paris Fashion Week?? She is the musical HEADLINER of an entire day of music at one of the biggest music festivals in the world, and you can't grant her the space to exist as an artist, you have to moan about her dress not being excitingly revealing enough. There's work to do, it's still dismal out there. But the space Billie Eilish has created for a most ordinarily-dressed woman popstar is still heartening.

[deus-ex-mona]

sometimes, i think about how ☝︎this rando☝︎ from the [redacted] anime inspired me to tl idol sengen out of spite for her butchered characterisation

[biillys]

wanna think about the idea of billy doing his best from a young age to like. not have friends over at his house. cos he's embarrassed of his dad and their family and the fact that his mom walked out etc so like. he does his best to make sure all playdates and hangouts and parties are somewhere else. god forbid neil or susan meet the people he hangs out with.

then the idea of him almost making it out of high school and having barely any close calls, neil crashing his little league and basketball games aside. his dad never offers up their house for birthday celebrations, and susan only ever tries to organise sleepovers for max, never really asking him if he wants anyone over.

and billy's like. fuck yeah. four more months to go then i'm free, i'm out of here, and no one's had to suffer through my shitshow family home life.

then. Then. the idea of susan getting it in her head that billy's turning eighteen, and he needs a party.

maybe susan works a few hours a week at some office, and maybe mrs. henderson works there too, and maybe claudia, as chatty as ever, starts asking questions. she heard from dustin who heard from lucas who heard from max that billy was about to finally turn eighteen, and so she asks, well intended obviously, what big celebration plans they have for him.

but like. susan barely even remembered her step-son's birthday was coming up. how is she getting reminded by mrs. henderson–of all people–about it at 2pm on a tuesday.

claudia continues on, asking if there's gonna be a party. going on about how it's a big year, eighteen, then reminises for the rest of their shift about her own eighteenth birthday party.

susan feeling guilty as hell, thinking back to her own birthday at that age. how her mom made her her favourite dinner and homebaked her favourite cake. how her two best friends at the time came over. how it was one of the last times she remembers being truly happy, before the real world took hold of her.

her going home and deciding on the drive there that there needs to be a celebration. catching billy as he walks in the door later that evening and trying to ask him what he'd like.

billy being like. nothing. i want nothing from you. no party, no presents, no balloons. it's just another day. don't worry about it. looking at her weirdly when she keeps trying.

susan hearing him, but still being like. well we need to do something. realising a full on party probably isn't the way to go, with the neil of it all, and who would she even invite anyway, but. maybe just a dinner. a simple dinner, with a few of his friends, and her and max and neil. maybe that could be nice.

enlisting max's help like. can you please invite his friends over for dinner, you know who he hangs out with, right? i don't even know his friends names.

"you realise he's gonna hate it, right? like, he said he didn't want a party," max points out.

"it'll just be a small dinner, just a few of his closest friends," susan tries, already writing a list in her head of food to prepare. realises she doesn't even know billy's favourite meal. his favourite cake flavour. that she has no idea what he could possibly want.

max stares at her and raises an eyebrow. knows the reason billy doesn't have people over, cos she doesn't have friends or sleepovers here anymore for the same reasons. dinners are awkward, neil's either in your face or standoff-ish, and her mom tries too hard to keep the conversation going. it's a nightmare.

but, her mom seems stuck on it, so eventually, she caves. nods her head and wonders how she's gonna get to heather and chrissy and carol without billy realising. without tommy fucking blabbing.

she somehow pulls it off, making a groupchat with the girls and getting them on board, then letting them handle the rest. she supllied the date and time and place, they can make sure everyone gets the information and shows up.

billy walks in the door after school on march 29th, doing his best just to get the day over and done with. knows he has to be home for dinner, cos neil's controlling that way, but has big plans to sneak out once it's lights out and go party it up at the trailer park with everyone later.

sitting down at the table, he realises there's extra place settings. that his dad's brought in extra chairs from the garage. looks around and realises how fucking weird the vibe is, more so than usual. susan's cooked up enough to feed the entire street and max looks guilty as shit. he feels dread start to take over just as someone knocks on the front door.

"you fucking didn't," he hisses at max, just as his dad walks out of the kitchen and answers, inviting people in.

"mom asked–" max starts, glaring right back, trying to plead her case.

chrissy walks in first, followed by eddie and tommy and carol, heather coming in side by side with his dad, and billy actually wants to die. can't actually think of a worse birthday.

susan welcomes everyone, pulling out seats and telling everyone to make themselves at home, his dad glaring at eddie and carol the entire time.

heather quickly snags the seat beside him, with chrissy and eddie squishing in on either side of max, and carol pulls up the chair next to neil, a smirk sitting comfortable on her face. tommy takes the last seat left next to susan, and suddenly they're all digging in.

the whole night's a complete and utter mindfuck.

neil seems to be endeared towards chrissy, probably thinking she's the picture of perfection, and is civil enough to heather, cos he knows who her parents are. spends most of dinner looking down on eddie and carol and treating them like shit, having a comment to say about everything from their appearence, all the way down to every small town rumour he's heard; eddie being a trailer trash high school ungraduate, and carol being raised by a young single mom who's been known to walk on the wild side.

being neutral towards tommy, but billy know's it just cos he's on the basketball team, and for some reason, that's a pro in his dad's book. he's also dating carol, though, and that's apparently a major fucking con.

the night drags on and billy wants the ground to swallow him whole. heather knocks her shoulder with his everytime neil says something stupid, though, and chrissy sends him the most gentle and sympathetic smiles across the table every time neil makes a shitty comment, and maybe he might just fucking cry.

tommy sits back, not really giving a fuck about most of the drama, and instead, has the time of his life. like, yeah. he gives neil the stink eye when he brings up carol's deadbeat dad and critisises her mom's parenting skills, and kind of wants to punch him when he bitches about billy's lack of commitement and direction in life becos he quit the basketball team, but like. it's a fun time. it's nice to see billy's family and finally understand why billy's���billy. he thinks he might finally get him.

heather and carol are ruthless every time neil opens his mouth, not letting him live a single second without giving it right back. susan tries to keep the peace whenever a passive aggressive arguement starts, but then max joins in, teaming up with heather about a debate on whether report card grades are true indicators of someones skills and smarts or just shit required by a system thats in shambles, and suddenly susan has no control over the table.

billy actually kinda starts to unclench slightly, watching max and heather and eddie go in on how the grading from certain teachers was bullshit, then catches how his dads face has turned redder and redder, and knows he's gonna get a stern talking to later, about the people he surrounds himself with and the influences he brings into max's life.

dinner finally ends and max, eddie, and chrissy clear the table so susan can bring out the cake.

neil sits at the head of the table, and billy can feel the storm brewing even with two people sitting between them. watches as susan walks over, plate balanced between her hands, then places an honest-to-god actual birthday cake down in front of him, eighteen candles and everything. thinks, maybe this is how he goes out.

listens as his friends and family sing him happy birthday and doesn't know what to do, or where to look. stares intently at the flames and wishes for the night to end as he blows.

the cake getting cut and shared around, and then finally, it's done. susan's shooing them all away as they push their chairs back, saying she'll clean up as neil grumbles about the leftovers and washing up.

chrissy and heather thanking her for her hospitality as they head for the door, carol dragging billy by his elbow.

"hope you don't mind, we planned a little get together before we heard about your dinner. is it okay if we steal billy for an hour or so?" heather asks, her manners and smile perfect.

susan tripping over herself to tell them it's completely fine. to take him as long as they want.

"be home by ten," neil corrects, eyes only on his son. susan tries to inerject, trying to push it to at least eleven, but neil doesn't budge. just stares at billy harder.

"yes, sir," billy nods, face hot, not even trying to fight him. can feel everyone watching the exchange and wishes they could just go.

this is why he doesn't have people over.

they leave, and make it out the front door, and suddenly–he can breathe again.

no one talks as they get into their various cars, and billy turns the music up loud the second heather sits passanger seat in his camaro.

they make it all the way to eddie's trailer before the tension finally breaks.

okay and then everyone being like. damn ur family sucks. specifically ur dad. we get why ur so weird about us coming over. this explains So much. and billy being like Bitch i've Told you all before ur never invited over. what the Fuck.

heather and tommy being like bro it's ur Birthday!!!! of Course we were gonna go. fuck ur dad!!!!!

billy being like. u suffered through the most insufferable birthday dinner party on earth just cos it was my birthday?

them all being like yeah bitch!!!!! and we'd do it again!!!!

[angelonhelios]

parentified angel trying (and failing) to take care of wilhelm in the same way that she's been made to help jack. hello. is this thing on.

[what-even-is-sleep]

thinking about Bodkin again bc I mean,,, ALL THE SYMBOLISM OHHHHHGH. i NEED some tumblr film analysis hobbyists to watch this show and tell me all the themes n such

[glassrowboat]

All The Parts Of You.

Mydei x Risse

I ended up writing that thing that's fully for me, but I'm sick and deserve this <3 Pure fluff and some funky facts about Risse in this one.

Cheerisse wasn't the type of person to hold themselves with grace.

It is an ironic fact considering the name meant exactly that, along with the monikers of 'dearly held' and 'kindness'. But if you asked anyone who knew Risse to describe them, none of those three words would be the first to leave their lips. Some would choose a hazard to your braincells (mainly the man she referred to as Axolotl), melodramatic, or wildly stubborn - not even Mydei would pick these three adjectives to describe his own partner at first.

Creative? Without a doubt. Witty, self-reliant, warm, safe.

And yet when he stared at Risse now, the thought struck him.

They were bent over a stack of papers with one hand moving nonstop as the other traced along the bold letters of a dictionary to double check each word they wrote down was spelled correctly. Rays of sunshine were streaming through the open curtains, bringing light to each description and her skin, seemingly making it glow with the dew clinging to her.

She was still wet from their visit to the baths, allowing a stray drop of water from their hair to fall onto the stack she was shuffling through. It smudged the ink, but it did nothing to deter the sprawling swirls of messy lettering to continue.

It was almost like Risse was completely lost in their own little world.

This had been explained to him before, the need to write something down before it escaped the mind entirely, but it still caught his eye every time it happened. They always looked different when they were concentrated, the playful air he had come to expect from her all but lost for the sake of her concentration.

Cheerisse had been like this since the moment she had tucked one of the flowers that drifted along the golden water in the baths behind his ear. She had cupped it in her hands when it had first drifted past, letting the lotus capture her attention as she buried her nose against its receptacle. More had soon pooled around both their waists, leaving stray petals tickling Mydei's skin to the point he had pushed them along with a wave of his hand to continue their journey through the bathhouse.

"Is it a holiday of something of the sort I forgot about?" Risse asked.

Mydei responded with a no as he watched them dance along the surface, twirling with every ripple they floated over until they stopped at the edge of the tub left with nonwhere to go. The soft pink clashed against the blue tiles, just like the three red hedges in the midst of purple flowers with the miraculous ability to giggle or the figure far beyond the priests of Janus wearing a knowing smile.

It had clearly been a mistake to ask if Risse was allowed to use the Hero's Bath with him.

At the time, Mydei had turned back to Risse, waded through the sheen of gold to stand behind them, and settled his arms around Risse's midsection to pull her close.

It had been an unconscious action to shield her from the others' view, but burying his face in her neck to assure himself he couldn't accidentally meet anyone eye to eye hadn't been - The fact it hid the abashed look on his face had nothing to do with his actions - and neither was the kiss pressed to her skin, silently asking if they could both leave already.

He had expected her to readily agree, given the fact her fingers were already reminiscent of the prunes he would occasionally pick up when buying pomegranates at the Fruit and Veg Store, but Risse had stalled. Just as another wave of giggles hit his ears, too.

Mydei's assumption their hesitation was born from the chance opportunity to peek out from behind his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the three trouble makers faded when he felt a stem brushing his hair out of the way as she settled the lotus Risse had been cradling so tenderly behind his ear. Her fingers danced along the cartilage to give it a light playful tug.

"There we are, pretty as can be."

A soft grunt fell from him, shoulders relaxing, but his grip on them still held firm when he had voiced his question on if she was ready to go.

"Alright, I got the message the first time. There's no need to rush a lady," she teased.

"You're only a lady when it's convenient for you."

"Maybe."

With a click of his tongue, Mydei urged them both out of the tub. Along the way, he had stopped and gathered his towels.

It was when the rough fabric graced his hand that Mydei detected the faint traces of divinity hovering in the air right above the tub he had been occupying. A passage of Janus had been used, of course. What else did he expect?

He gave the three girls a smile as they peeked their heads out above the planter they had been hiding behind and left to catch up with the source of the wet foot prints on the ground - nodding respectfully towards Aglaea on his way out.

From there, they had both gone to the dressing rooms to change back into their everyday clothes (despite Risse's comment that there was no point for him to even bother before pushing past the door) and left to head back to her apartment.

Cheeky. She's that, too.

The entire walk Risse had been mumbling to themselves, seemingly lost in thought as she broke the quiet air between them. He caught the occasional snippet, something about withering flowers, a witty one-liner he had no context for, and a comment about how they would even make this all work at the theater. When they had finally breached the doorway, she was gone, shuffling off to leave Mydei to find her in the bedroom.

Bringing them to now, with Mydei leaned against a wall and taking her in.

"You'll get sick if you don't dry your hair." He finally said.

Risse stopped a moment, brow raised as they looked at him, only to come face to face with a towel he was holding out.

"Yes, your highness. Whatever you say, your highness." Risse said as she took it from him and began drying off her halr.

The towel was still hanging off their head when she returned to her work, letting it hang there until Mydei pulled it off. He tossed it into an overfilling hamper before sitting behind her, watching a story slowly come to life before his eyes. He works have asked what it was about if Mydei didn't already know she would tell him in her own time. She was often struck with the need to bounce ideas off of someone, even if it was just for the sake of voicing every thought, and he was more often than not her chosen candidate. And if not, well, Risse had a habit of leaving unfinished scripts lying around.

She wrote a sentence down, scratched it out, added something new in its place, cursed when the quill when it ran out of ink, and dipped it back in the pot - and she would be like this for a while.

Quietly he gathered up her hair, pulling the strands from where they stuck to her forehead and began separating it off into segments just like he had done a dozen times over since their habit of doing each other's hair after the baths truly ingrained itself in his mannerisms. With only the sounds of a pen scratching and their breathing, Mydei braided one side of Risse's hair and then the other. Each twintail was tied off with a cuff, one made of gold with a green gem hanging off of it, and the other was his - the bronze shining in the beams of sunlight.

He let the braid drop back down to rest on her shoulder, only for it to slide down and fall to hang by her face.

Mydei reached over to fix it, knowing how hard it could be to write something down when your hair was in the way only to stop when he noticed the faintest scar on her back. It was old. He knew that just looking at it, and yet he had never noticed it until a single droplet caught on the divet before continuing to trail downwards.

He traced the jagged shape, following it even past the marks stopping point down to her scapular spine - and back up again.

"This scar, where did it come from?"

Risse took a moment to answer, her head tilting as she tried to figure out what he was asking about before it finally clicked. "Oh. Tis but a flesh wound."

"Cheerisse, I'm serious here. I want to know."

"My aunt tried to kill me."

A pause. "What?"

"Okay, now that I think about it, you are the worst recipient for that joke. My apologies. But you actually want the story, ya?"

With a sigh, Mydei nodded. When he did, Risse set their quill down and turned around to face him.

"Alright. I was two at the time, so I'm telling someone else's version here, but...At the time my older sisters had this bunk bed, and my aunt thought it would be a great idea to take the ladder to the second bunk to see if she could use it like a pair of stilts. Great idea, right?" Risse asked. "No."

A snort let him at her sudden deadpan.

"Well, of course, my aunt eventually fell. But here's the kicker: poor little two year old Risse was sitting on the floor in the same room playing with her dolls when this all went down. I got a ladder hook to my back. Though, when my mom tells this story, she always likes to start it by saying that when she was woken up, her exact words were 'someone better be bleeding.'"

"That sounds like both your aunt and mother were extremely irresponsible."

Risse shrugged. "Eh, my aunt was like ten, so I cut her some slack."

Mydei reached around her, fingers finding that scar again to trace over it with a new reverence. She shifted in his hold, accommodating to how he was pulling her closer to wrap her arms around Mydei's neck. They stayed like that until the ink on her scripts were as dry as bone before he could bring himself to ask if there was another story she had behind a scar.

"You seem to care a lot about this, huh, kitty?"

"Scars can be fascinating to someone who's never had the ability to bear one." He tried to justify, but the words felt wrong on his tongue. Risse bore the mark of the wounds she received in the past and wore them with pride, the way way the soldiers of Kremnos do when they come home from a journey after a long time away.

There's another trait he would attribute to Risse: strength.

He took her chin in hand, allowing himself to caress the line of Risse's jaw to the birthmark under her chin; a shape Mydei has long since memorized with both his fingers and tongue. "I want to hear it all if you are willing to share."

"You do realize you're distracting me, right? I was working on something."

"I-"

"But alright, if you insist."

For the next half hour, they sat together curled up in bed as Risse told him about each of her "battle wounds" while she braided and unbraided his hair (doing her best to avoid the lotus he stubbornly refused to lose) before doing it up again. There's one from when she got stitches on her head, one from loving on a stray cat too much, someone breaking a vase. There was so much to Risse that he still hadn't learned, and here they were sharing everything so openly because he asked.

She is enthralling in a way he's never known anyone else to be, for he could read a book full of the most wonderful sonnets and still have no way to describe Risse in their entirety, scars and all.

[coldmilkchoices]

rereading this book is insane the way this hammers home that 13 isnt afraid to use the tactics of the capitol. when i first read this at age 13 i was happy they were getting peeta and rereading this although i understand the cost of retrieving peeta the verbiage haymitch uses is insane. "you cant perform" ohhhh my god