#but for real. this is why i’ve been trying to go a little lighter on tags lately

[icallhimjoey]

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: uh-oh here we GO! the girls voted and the girls won, so here we are! the no-longer-flatmates-flatmate fic - you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was only small, but definitely there. Ugly. Green. Growing. With potential to do real harm. It crawled around and scoped him out, exploring his heart from all different angles, carefully tasting it.

It hadn’t bitten him yet, but Joe knew if he lost sight of it – if he stopped trying to control it – that eventually, it would. And it would hurt. It didn’t exactly feel great now, but once it’d sink its teeth in, Joe knew he’d be done for.

He remembered when it still good. Still nice. Warm. And soft. And joyous, all full of love.

It used to be kind and sweet and would make him smile until his cheeks were quite literally cramping.

But it’d changed. It’d turned bad.

He wished he could’ve seen it coming.

It was a good thing that he found he was able to easily control it with rational thought. Problem was that rational thought had the habit of abandoning him once it got dark outside and he was alone in his flat.

His new flat.

Where everything was his.

Where everything got put in places that he chose. All his things were where he wanted them, all catering towards his routine. Which was why a basket of underwear made it into a bathroom cupboard, and why a shelf got put up near the balcony door, so he had a place to keep his cigarettes and a lighter. Gone were the days of rummaging through coat pockets ‘til he found what he was looking for.

It was sort of great, Joe wasn’t going to lie, living on his own.

It didn’t look quite as nice, not quite as homey, but Joe was sure he’d soon learn what the place was missing. He didn’t worry about it. There were more important things to worry about. Like, how quick dust built up into bunnies underneath the sofa and how every time he’d open his front door, it’d waft out from underneath, only to settle in the middle of the room for everyone to see. Or how somehow he panicked so much about keeping his plants alive that he was systematically overwatering all of them.

Idiot.

It was fine.

Rational thinking.

It was all fine.

Things were different now.

Good different.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Joe joked as he let you in, pointing out the large bouquet of flowers in your hands.

His place already smellt amazing. Joe made a good roast, and had one going now, things in the oven, bubbling and simmering away.

“If I never did things I shouldn’t do, life would be very boring,” you said, laying the colourful bunch down on his island.

“Did... wait, did you actually get those for me?”

“Have you got a vase?” you were already opening cabinet doors. “You don’t, do you?”

When you didn’t get a reply, you turned to see Joe stare at the flowers. He looked a little dumbfounded.

“Joe?”

“Hmm?” he looked up at you and blinked a few times. “Oh, um...” he squeezed his eyes shut a second, trying to gather his thoughts.

Took too long, you thought.

“A vase?” you repeated, trying very hard to keep a straight face, to not let the smallest inkling of a smile slip through.

“Sorry, I don’t... I don’t think I’ve got a vase.”

Why the fuck would he own a vase, Joe thought.

“I’ll get you one as a housewarming gift,” you found a pitcher. “This’ll do for now.”

There was evidence on the counter of what Joe had been in the middle of, cutting veggies, preparing the gravy. But as you filled the pitcher with water, Joe still kind of hovered in the same spot in silence. Looked at the flowers that you’d brought in and felt silly for how those made him feel.

When you placed the pitcher in the middle of the island and reached for the bouquet, you broke his trance, and Joe softly laughed at himself.

“This is... my God, this is so sweet? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten flowers before.”

“Well,” you smiled back, about to throw stones into your own windows. “I didn’t get them for you.”

“Oh?” Joe immediately felt embarrassed. Mortified. Felt the skin of his neck flush with heat.

“I got them for your flat.”

Got him.

Joe let out the breath he was holding in defeat, dropping his head and smiling. Scoffed softly at himself because you were joking, and he was an idiot.

“You know, give it some colour. Give me something nice to look at when I’m here.” you plopped the flowers into the pitcher and didn’t get the chance to make it look nice, to arrange it a little, because before you could, you got picked up by the waist and shaken about. You shriek-laughed a loud, “No!”

“Something nice to look at?” Joe pressed his face into your cheek as you squealed through your giggles.

“Am I not nice to look at, huh?” Joe squeezed extra tight before he put you down, turning you in his arms and keeping you real close.

“You’re nice to look at,” you said sweetly, still grinning widely, nose nudging up at his. “If I could put you in a vase and arrange you all nice, I would.”

Joe snorted, and you felt it on your face.

“Hmm. You’re funny.”

You got kissed by soft lips that almost felt shy to kiss you.

“Don’t get me a vase.”

And then you got kissed a little harder. Bit more firm.

“I’ll get my own.”

“No,” you objected, speaking right into his mouth. “You’ll get a stupid one with like, frosted writing on, or something. Live, love, laugh.”

You felt Joe’s smile as he kissed you harder, both arms squeezing as they wrapped around your waist tighter. You sighed into Joe’s affection and took great comfort in the fact that you were alone. You were outside of your flat, which was still wild in your opinion, but at least you were alone.

Alone was good.

Joe’d gotten into the habit of showing affection when you were around others, around strangers, and you didn’t think you were ever going to get used to it.

The first time Joe reached to hold your hand, you’d nearly had a panic attack.

It wasn’t very cold, but the wind was cutting. Hurt your forehead as you walked and made you hunch as you pulled up your shoulders to shield yourself as best you could. Joe’s hand finding yours was a welcome warmth for your cold fingers, but it still made you fall silent as you tensed up.

Joe just held on for a few steps, and looked at you. You could see him stare from your peripheral, could feel the burn of it high up in your cheeks, and tried your best to ignore it.

“You can relax.” Joe humorously said, speaking softly and leaning in a little to make sure you could hear him.

“I am relaxed.” You immediately argued, because holding hands with Joe shouldn’t be weird. It should actually be normal. You tangled up with your full bodies more days than you didn’t when you shared a flat. If anything, Joe’s touches were exactly what turned you lax, all floppy and boneless.

“S’just cold.”

“Hmm,” Joe sounded unsure, very obviously not believing you, and squeezed your fingers a couple of times. When you didn’t smile, Joe let his own drop too, and asked if you were okay.

“Fine.” You reassured, growing a little defensive. If Joe could just stop talking about it, that’d be great.

“Should I– do you want me to let go?”

“No, it’s okay.” You said, sounding a little squeaky, but you doubled down with a squeeze of your own.

Joe took it, accepted it, albeit a little unsure if maybe he’d made the wrong move here. But you’d walked along, and you held hands, and when you fell into random conversation again, holding your hand became something Joe stopped thinking about. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb along yours, and at one point used his grasp to pull you in front of him when you had to share a narrow bit of pavement with oncomers.

You weren’t like Joe.

Not for a single second had you been able to be as casual about it as Joe had been.

You focussed on your hand the whole while you walked, and couldn’t help but check to see if others were looking at it. If strangers that passed you looked down at your hands. To check if they could see. If they somehow knew that you’d never done this before.

You had.

But not like this. Not outside. Not in public.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hold Joe’s hand, but there was something about this new phase you were in, where Joe walked over to yours to pick you up to go out for dinner together. Where he had to ring the doorbell and ask if he could quickly come up to use the toilet before you left. Where he pretended he didn’t know where the bathroom was and made you show him the way. Where he faked being anxious when you left your flat, saying that he hoped you liked the restaurant he booked a table at. Where he nervously asked if you liked Italian food, as if you hadn’t shared a million pizzas together.

Things were different now, and although you were close, would often do everything you could to dissolve into his skin, walking hand in hand through the streets of London felt insane. Like you were moving too fast, even though you understood how silly that sounded.

You’d spent that entire walk thinking of a natural reason to let go of his hand, and Joe had felt your fingers twitch. Felt how you seemed to change you mind about it every three seconds. But, you’d said he could hold onto you, so, he simply did.

It wasn’t until you reached the restaurant and used the heavy door as an excuse to wiggle your fingers from Joe’s hand, using both of yours to pull it open.

Baby steps, Joe thought as he smirked to himself, astonished that he’d gotten to hold your hand out in public for over ten minutes.

He was sure you’d slap him away the second he even attempted to intertwine your fingers together.

Which, coincidentally, was exactly what you did the first time Joe tried to lean in for a quick peck on the lips as you said goodbye to each other outside of his flat.

You’d been out, and were both in a bit of a rush to get home. You thought that the way you’d hugged his arm for a second was plenty goodbye. You’d pressed the side of your face to his bicep and said you’d see him later.

You’d reached the point where you wanted to go cross the street as Joe would walk the other way to get to his front door, and when you tried to step away, he yanked you right back by the elbow.

The way you recoiled away from him was so extreme, it startled Joe. You almost made it look like he was about to hit you.

“Jesus,” he mumbled under his breath, and you immediately apologised. You stepped back closer to him, were about to accept a quick kiss as an apology, but let your eyes nervously dart around to see if there were other people. If there were witnesses.

Joe just looked at you, blinked a few times and then, instead of leaning in for a quick kiss, squeezed you in your side.

“Calm down. Call me when you get home.”

And you’d blushed at how Joe’d smiled at you before he turned to head inside. Your face had remained hot until you got home where you then had to take a moment to shake all the nervous jitters from your body.

It was such a weird spot to be in, Joe thought.

How he couldn’t get too close if there was the slightest chance of someone seeing, but to have you literally whine at him inbetween his sheets if he didn’t touch you in the right spot with the right pressure at the right speed.

But steps were being made in the right direction.

You each had you own place now, and Joe made a point to sometimes not see you for a few days. He kind of enjoyed getting to miss you. He liked how his stomach did flips when you’d ring his doorbell after not having been over for a few days. He liked how absence made his heart grow fonder, and how that felt healthy.

Joe assumed you felt the same way; maybe you didn’t like it as much as he did, but surely you also understood how this was at least more normal.

He never thought that what the two of you were before was toxic.

It was just... weird.

Good weird.

But this was better.

Still a little weird, he wasn’t going to lie. But better.

He got to tell you to call him when you got home now. He got to invite you over to his flat for Sunday roast now. And you would then come and bring him flowers now.

Joe had never received flowers before. Well, maybe he had. But not like this. Not from a girl who brought them just for him. Just because. He kind of loved it. Kind of loved you.

“God, you were right.” Joe said, eyes unblinking, comfortably staring.

Both satisfied and full after an early dinner, the two of you laid out on Joe’s sofa - the one that took six weeks and then two more to arrive - and both looked at the bouquet up on the kitchen island. You were tucked into his side, with one of his arms slung around your frame. You held one of his hands with both of yours and absentmindedly played with his fingers.

 “I don’t know how this works but they kind of make the whole room look better.”

“They do.” You agreed, smiling, because you did that. You turned your head, tilting up to look at Joe’s face. “Please let me pick out a vase for you, though.”

Joe’s grin slowly grew as he said, “Absolutely not. Might just keep the pitcher for flowers only, I kind of like it.”

“Ugh,” you grimaced. “This is such a boy’s flat.”

“Well,” Joe started, raising his eyebrows, finally breaking eye-contact with the fresh bloom, tucking in his chin to look down at you. “I am a boy, so, that checks out.”

For a moment you just looked at each other, smiling, cuddled up into the corner like you always were cuddled up into the corner together. When you saw Joe flick his eyes down to your lips, you pulled the hand you were still holding closer to bite right into the skin between his index finger and thumb.

Joe pretended to flinch, but you were barely leaving marks as you smiled through the bite, big eyes looking up at him. Joe took a moment to just take you in. The way you looked at him had him biting his own lip before he tried to grab hold of one of your hands to pull into his mouth.

You were already scream-laughing and trying your best to pull your hand away before he even got close. It left you in a wrestling pile of limbs, Joe with his mouth open, growling and ready to bite at whatever got close enough. He ended up getting at bit of your sleeve in between his teeth, pinning you down into the soft seat-cushions and he felt drunk with joy.

He was so fucking happy.

Pretty girl in his flat, giggling away on his sofa, and she’d brought him flowers. It was kind of disgusting how he’d turned to goop on the inside.

Joe didn’t wait for your giggles to die out to get his lips on yours and kiss you silly.

There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was sticky and sugary sweet and Joe loved the taste it.

Loved how it bubbled over and leaked into his stomach.

Loved how it swirled into his limbs and made him reach for your hand to hold when you were walking outside.

Loved how it made him put his arm around your shoulders to pull you tightly into his side as you waited to get your coffees whilst the barista prepared them.

Loved how it grew as he took the lead on this new way of being together the way you had done before when you still lived together.

It made Joe want to introduce you to someone as his girlfriend, knowing full well that you hadn’t had that conversation yet, and that you’d likely have a melt down, but God.

It was just what he wanted to do, he couldn’t help it.

He wouldn’t.

There was a high probability that you’d actually murder him if he pulled a stunt like that.

The fact that you were kissing like this outside of your flat right now was already sort of stretching it, Joe knew.

You let Joe kiss you on his sofa for a minute. Let him slide his nose around yours with an open mouth that hovered over yours inbetween kisses. He made you work for it, having to lift up your head for more when he teased you for too long.

When you felt how Joe started readjusting his position on top of you, you knew you had to break it off.

“Hmm– Joe, no, I gotta–”

“Hm?”

“I gotta go, there’s– stop, there’s a potential flatmate coming over in a bit, I gotta– Joe!”

Joe finally broke away with an annoyed grumble leaving his throat as he did.

“Fine.”

“I can... I could always come back after?”

Joe shifted enough to let you escape the sofa.

“Hmm, you could, but I do have an early morning, so it’s probably not worth the trouble.” Joe sighed, lying back with an arm curled behind his head, watching you twist your clothes so it all sat right again.

“No?”

“I’ll probably be asleep by the time you make it back here.”

“Well,” you started, slinging your arms into your coat. “All depends on how long this is going to take. If it’s another 19-year-old trying to negotiate for a 30-70 rent split first thing, I’ll only be a second.”

“God, for your sake, I hope it’s not another student. But for my sake...” Joe made big eyes, giving you a suggestive look that broke into a smile when you laughed.

You gave Joe a last quick kiss as you bent over the sofa and told him you’d see him later, all casual.

Joe’s smile lingered as he watched you walk out.

“Call me when you get home!”

Yea... there was something living inside Joe’s chest.

And it was cuddly and fuzzy and comfortable and good...

For now.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[misstycloud]

How to stop your husband from being weird: situation one- digging in the middle of the night.

One of the things that I have noticed about my dear husband, Arlo (bless his soul), is the constant digging in our backyard; he leaves in the middle of the night and when I dare glance out the window, I see him. His back is always facing towards me, so I can’t get a good look at his face. He is a very expressive person and I can tell what he thinks from simply looking at his face, hence why this is somewhat concerning.

Had I known that my dearest would wake up during ungodly hours of the night, get dressed, fetch the garden tools from the shed, and then proceed to dig a massive hole, then maybe I would have hesitated to say ‘yes’. (Do not be worried, I love my husband deeply and this was just a little joke.)

Joke aside, it is still very annoying. Does he not know this will keep me awake too? I have work to do and I can’t keep on going if my sleep is this disturbed. I would have to be some sort of abomination- a vampire perhaps?

That is not all; I find dirt particles inside our house; I clean for nothing apparently.

I have tried bringing this up(somewhat hard to ask your spouse why they are leaving you all cold and lonely in the middle of the night) with Arlo, but every time he changed the subject. The audacity! He even asks me if I’m ill and is in need of a doctor. I tell him ‘I am quite fine thank you very much!’ and remind him my eyesight is good, I’m not imagining things and I know he’s been up to something in the yard. I also know he’s not preparing to pot new plants for summer so he better not try that with me.

Last time I tried prying the answer out of him, he finally relented and gave me what I wanted.

His explanation: I have been finding a lot of roadkill and other deceased animals lately. I didn’t want you to have to see it. You know I work so many hours, I don’t have time during the day, that’s why I bury them at night. It’s horrible, but understandable since they’re rebuilding the library and trucks loaded with materials drive by often.

Whether I believe this explanation or not doesn’t matter. There is factor agreeing with his explanation and there are ones that goes agaisnt it.

Those vouching for him: it is true that trucks drive by often these days since the library really did catch on fire recently. It was an unfortunate accident casued(according to the police) by some teenagers. They played around with a lighter and things escalated beyond their control. The saddest part is that I can’t go to the library anymore, I suppose I’ll have to find new hobbies to entertain myself until the library is rebuilt and restocked with books. Another thing is that I do like animals and it definitively wouldn’t be fun to see a run-over one in real life. My husband is very caring and wouldn’t expose me to something he knows I hate, therefore it makes sense for him to bury them in secret. Besides, his job is demanding and he actually wouldn’t be able to do so in the day.

All of this form one solution that is: burying the dead animals in secret from his wife(me) during nighttime as to not disturb me or his work hours. (If we look away from the fact I wake when he does)

Factors indicating he’s lying: how come I have never found a roadkill if they are so common nowadays? It’s unusual for him to come home before me, and if he’s that busy with work, it wouldn’t make sense for him to find all of them before I’ve even caught a whiff of something foul nearby. You see what I mean? Secondly, there is not reason why he should be the one doing all this work. Surely there are professionals dealing with here things? In that case then he should call them instead and tell those truck-drivers to be more careful.

Ultimately this is very suspicious, but what else can I do? Statistically, there is a high chance(I believe?) that your husband will have at least one weird hobby. I will have to live with that and I have said to him ‘I love you more than anything and if this is something you wish to do then o won’t question you.’

He was almost in tears, it was adorable. He said, ‘Yes, my love, thank you. I also love you more than anything in this world and I would be damned if something came between us.’

Afterwards I lectured him on not bringing in dirt in the house again, though. This was his answer: of course not, my darling!

To summarise this incident: my husband still visits the outdoors at night, however not as often as before. I warned him, too, of being careful because a bunch of men have been going missing lately and I’d be devastated if his name came up on of of those reports. I shouldn’t say this- but I will- I’m kind of happy those men are gone. I recognised their names and/or faces from the papers, you see. It turns out that all of them were ones I’d met previously. I won’t bore you with the details, but they weren’t pleasant encounters.

Everyday I have checked the floor for dirt and have found none. This is very good news for my ‘cleaning-spirit’. Whenever I feel Arlo leaving the bed I have decided to relax my mind and go back to sleep again. Then, if I’m still half-awake, I will feel him laying down beside me once more and together we drift off to dreamland.

The lesson I learned from this is that you don’t have to ‘fix’ everything about your partner, and they are allowed to have their special hobbies. There is a difference if you’re being harmed in the process, though. If that’s the case then you should immediately speak up about it and you compromise. Remember, communication is key!

———

Written by: (Y/n) (L/n)

[lucky-draws]

(transcript + some notes/explanation under the cut:)

i feel like the context of this is maybe only apparent in my own head LOL so basically ive kind of imagined an au where, based on the rebirth ending, james has succeeded in bringing mary back to life, but also maria, and also james gets killed in the process. so it's basically just maria and mary alone in the townTM trying to figure each other out. and this is a letter maria sends mary at some point basically. transcript in case the font is annoying to read:

Mary, You’ll have to forgive me if any of this sounds a little weird. I haven’t written anybody a letter in years, and I’m not sure if I have much of a way with words. Though I’ve been spending a lot of time in Ernest’s library lately, so hopefully some of his great literature has rubbed off on me. Somehow, I had this idea that I never liked reading much - that it wasn’t really my style - but I ended up getting kind of hooked. His dusty old books sure aren’t the worst company in this town, at any rate. I wonder what we really are, you and I. I used to think of us as two music box dolls: dancing side by side, spinning in perfect unison to somebody else’s tune. Like a pair of clocks keeping the same time. Two parallel lines, and an impossibility for us to ever intersect, to face each other head-on without some kind of disaster.

We’re not completely identical, though. If you looked closely at me - if you could bear to do that - you’d see all my imperfections. I lack your fine details. The paint on my lips is messier, my joins are showing, and there are bits of sprew left between my fingers. Pick me up, and you’ll feel how much lighter I am - I’m missing a lot of internal parts, you see. I’m a knock-off - we were cast from different molds. You were born of nature, while I was born from your very own killer. But I suppose I don’t need to tell you that. Do you hate me? I understand if you do. Or maybe I’m not so important - maybe you can only think of him. Or perhaps you’re trying not to think of anything at all when you sit by that lake for hours on end. I don’t know how you can stand it - going to the lake every day. It's so quiet. No ducks, not even a single bird. I’d go crazy, I think. That’s why I like to stay at the bar: there’s no one here either, of course, but it feels easier to imagine there might be. To pretend that we’ve only just closed, that those drinks on the table belonged to the last customers, and not to me. I’ve been so restless lately, sitting in the bar all night. I wonder if - no, I guess I’m hoping that - something’s going to give, soon. I think I’m losing the beat  - I’m spinning slower than you are. I think it’s because I keep getting distracted, always thinking of you. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it’s simply because you’re the only thing in this dreadful town that’s not a monster. But I think you must be as lonely as I am. Much more so, probably. And I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if you’d only reach through the mirror and touch me. I’m full of missing pieces, I know - but I have this notion that between us, we might just be able to come together into something like a real person. You know, some days I feel I hardly know who I am; but other times I feel so sure that I’m beginning to dance to my own beat. It’s no fun dancing alone, though. Well, I guess you know where to find me. I’ll be waiting at the bar tonight. I always am. I’ve waited there every night - for something, someone, anything, anyone - for what feels like forever. But these days, I’m just waiting for you. See you around, Maria

[skzpvol]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ THE BRIGHTEST STAR - bang chan ࿐ྂ

pairing: nonidol!bang chan x gn!reader

genre: angst, no comfort (i warned you)

warning: mentions of suicide, cursing, the entire drabble is full of hurt

words: 0.8k

synopsis: Chan visits you again. What will you say to you this time?

a/n (1): this drabble is triggering, so please if you are sensitive to the warnings DO NOT read. Your health is my priority and remember that you are not alone, you will never be. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. English is not my first language, so tell me if I made some mistakes.

«hi my love, i’ve missed you. Do you remember what day is it? It’s our anniversary and I really can’t believe that we’ve come this far. The younger me would be so proud to hear I’ve been with the love of my life for six years now. And I would do anything to spend this special day with you. Actually I don’t really want to celebrate. It would be useless if I’m alone. 

«I bought your favorite flowers today. Hope you will appreciate them. Do you remember the first time I bought you flowers? They were roses and you were so scared to tell me you were allergic. I felt guilty but when I saw you laughing I thought it was all worthy. Even tho I tried to kill you, hearing and seeing your laugh for the first time was like being transported to heaven. I immediately felt lighter and happier. You’ve always made me the happiest. It’s a shame that happiness is gone now. But it’s not your fault, if anything it’s mine. 

«the boys miss you too. You know, one week ago we met all together for the first time after the accident and I tried, I tried so hard to distract myself. I did everything I could, they did everything, but it was all pointless. I told them I was fine, that I felt like I was already moving on, but they were all lies. I can’t help it. I don’t want them to be worried. They’ve already suffered enough and I don’t to be another burden. 

«I wrote you a song. Yes, another one. It seems like you are still my biggest inspiration. I really want to sing it to you, but it’s not finished yet. You need to wait just a little more. I promise you, the next time I’ll come with the lyrics. Just wait for me. 

«why y/n? Why did you do this to me? Was I not enough? Did you feel like you couldn’t trust me? Why? Why did you not search for help? I would have been there. I would have listened to each of your worries. I would have stayed with you. I would have told you that everything was going to be okay, that you were not alone. So why did you never told me how you were really feeling? Fuck- why? I know that it’s anyone fault, but I feel like I’m the only culprit. I know that i should not be mad at you, but I am. I’m madly angry. I wanna scream, cry and at the same time let everything go. But you will still not come back to me. So why should I try anyway?

«I’ve always seen suicide like a way to die for cowards. I’ve always thought that people who chose it were selfish. But who am I to think about it like that now, if I wasn’t even capable of helping you? I’m the real selfish because in 6 fucking years I wasn’t be able to look into you, to look through you. You were suffering and I didn’t do anything. I tried to blame you when you told me you needed me, so who am I to fucking say you are the selfish one? I’m a mess. I’m a disaster. 

«the last time I saw you, you were happier. I remember that I even asked you why. You just told me “today is a beautiful day” and before I left you said “I love you, always will” for the last time. If I only knew. I read somewhere that a star burns brightest in its final moments and I get it now. Every time I look at the sky I always wonder if you are finally happy. When I look at the glowing stars I always think it’s your way to tell me that you are there. You are there and you are okay. You are protecting me. 

«I cry. A lot. Even now, I can’t stop crying. The guilt it’s really hard to bear. I can’t even look in the mirror without feeling disgust towards myself. And you would probably be disappointed too if you saw me like this. You want me to be happy, but I can’t. Not without you. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t look out for you when you needed me the most. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when I was supposed to. I’m sorry that i was the worst boyfriend you could ever ask for. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. 

«will I ever be able to see you again? I really hope so. But I’ll make sure to look at the sky every single night and look out for the brightest star. Because you are there, aren’t you? 

«please wait for me, I still have to sing you a song. You will be proud of me, I promise.

a/n (2): hiii, how are you? I’m finally on school break! Sorry if I’m being inactive BUT, apart from school that is really stressing me out, I’m working on a bunch of things (a long ass fic and a smau :)) ). I probably already said this, BUT I’M GOING TO SEE MY STRAY KIDS IN JULY AFTER TWO YEARS, AND I’M THE HAPPIEST. I cannot really wait. Btw, thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed it. I also ask you to like it and tell me your opinion about this to help me to improve. Have a good day / night 🫶🏻

[my-head-is-an-animal]

The Climb

Summary: You're a scientist, an engineer to be exact. Called to a meeting you had no real right to be at, Optimus Prime takes an exclusive interest in you, but you can't help but ask yourself at every turn, Why?

Rating: 18+ 🌹🩸🍆

Story Masterlist

Chapter 11

Theo had been working on the suit I would wear on the climb, it was brilliant, lightweight, but would carry everything I needed to take with me. Thermal on the inside for when I got too high up, along with a mask attached to the inside with access to oxygen, a parachute compact enough that I shouldn’t have struggled with the extra weight, and several secure compartments to keep any supplies I needed. The most important thing about it, was it was free from anything electronic.

     I couldn’t stop thinking about that night with Optimus though. Everything about it was beautiful. Learning about Spark-sharing, the endless possibilities for it to save lives and connect two Autobots for eternity; it was amazing. I wanted to know more, I wanted to learn everything I could about Optimus, I wanted to know what made him the way he was and what he wanted to do in the future.

     We had gone out every evening that week to watch the sun go down and get to know each other. I told him about my childhood, he told me about his, we discussed menial things, things that made me feel normal and without masses of pressure being put on my shoulders.

     It was the one thing putting a dampener on everything. I was behaving as if this was my last few days on earth. There was every possibility that it was, but I was trying to see past the ship arriving on Earth. I was trying to see the days afterwards, trying so hard to believe I might have been able to get back to my old life.

     ‘And I’ve made sure you’ve got some adrenaline shots in reserve.’ Theo suddenly said, placing the small silver case in front of me on the desk and breaking my thoughts. ‘I wouldn’t recommend taking any more than three and even that I think is pushing it, but you’ve got five to get you through the last leg.’

     ‘Thanks.’ I said, clearing my throat and pushing my glasses up my nose while I took some notes.

     Theo sighed and sat in front of me. ‘Look, you can pull out of this, you know.’ My head snapped up to look at him. ‘If you think you won’t make it, you can always walk away, there’s no shame in it.’

     ‘How can you say that?’ I almost hissed, surprising Theo. ‘Theo, you and I have gone over the specs for that ship a thousand times, even the Autobots won’t get through that shielding, by the time they’ve found a way, it’ll be too late. I have to make the climb, if I don’t, if I don’t even try… that’s the end.’

     Theo frowned a little. ‘And what about you? What happens to you afterwards?’

     ‘I don’t know.’

     ‘No? Because it feels like my friend is going up there with no intention of coming back.’ Theo snapped and left the lab.

     I hadn’t realised how tense we’d both gotten in such a short space of time, but in a way, we were both right. No one else was going to make it up there, but I wasn’t the only one who thought it was a one way trip.

     I could feel the eyes of not just the base, but everyone who knew about the mission, on me, constantly. Lennox tried to keep me focused on the wall and training. We kept it a little lighter in the remaining week, but my worry was that I had still yet to complete thirty thousand feet. I knew he was worried as well, and Epps struggled to hide his concern.

     I left my lab early the night before the ship was due to arrive in Earth’s atmosphere. I didn’t dare turn on any news or listen to any outside noise, I needed all the focus I could get before the morning.

     I could see almost all of the Autobots talking outside their hanger, Ironhide glanced over when Hound indicated I was standing across the base. He began making his way over and fear began to flood my limbs.

     He kneeled down in front of me, and I could see kindness in his features the same way I saw it in all the Autobots. He really was on our side.

     ‘Lennox has told us that you have not made the thirty thousand foot climb in training yet.’ He said. I looked down disappointed in myself more than anything. ‘I’m sure Optimus will tell you the same thing tomorrow, but while I’ve got the chance to say it myself: we’re all counting on you, and we all believe the Earth is in no safer hands than yours. We’ll do our part and we’ll buy you all the time you need, you just make that climb. Good luck. We’ll be waiting for you at the bottom.’

     I looked up at the weapons expert’s face. ‘Thank you.’ It was the best I could muster in the state I was in.

     Ironhide nodded and stood to head back to the hanger where almost every Autobot was watching me. My heart began racing nervously, I needed some space to breathe.

     The familiar sound of Optimus revved behind me, and it ignited something in the core of my being. I turned to see him opening the door for me to hop in. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. We had spent almost every night together on the hill side since our second date, we talked, he motivated me when I felt my fear getting the better of me, and he would make me come.

     Optimus had found all my weaknesses and exploited them gloriously at every turn. The strangeness of the situation hadn’t even seeped into my mind until that night. I was, in the simplest terms, in love with a truck. He was so much more than that, I could feel the life surging through him, he wasn’t scrap metal, he wasn’t a robot, he was a beautiful creature that had more human qualities than one would have expected.

     I had tried so hard not to fall for him, but he was rather charming when he wanted to be, he listened, he learned about me with a genuine curiosity, and he thought I was beautiful as well. What more could I have asked for?

     ‘I sense you are in need of something different on the eve of battle.’ Optimus said as we arrived at the same spot at the top of the hill.

     I sighed, getting out and listened to him transform into his full form, kneeling as he always did to speak to me.

     ‘What can I do for you?’ He asked and I felt like breaking there and then. Was he really asking me that? Was he really that kind?

     ‘Can you turn back time so that I never came here?’ I joked, but Optimus’s face dropped.

     ‘I would not want to.’ He said, sincerely. ‘If you never came here, we would never have met.’

     I let my gaze drop to the floor for a moment. ‘I know.’ I whispered. ‘I’m terrified.’

     ‘You would be foolish not to be. But the fact that you are willing to give everything to save your planet anyway, that is the mark of a true warrior.’

     I shook my head. ‘I’m not a warrior.’ I told him. His head tilted confused. ‘I’m an engineer. A scientist. My greatest strength will always be my mind, but even that has it’s limits. What if I can’t do this?’

     Optimus thought for a moment, looking out at the beautiful orange sun as it began to descend in the sky.

     ‘What is it to be human?’ He asked, making me frown.

     ‘Erm…’ I half laughed. ‘I don’t think I could sum it up in a few words. It’s about making mistakes, getting up when you get knocked down, it’s about connection with others, it’s about trying. I suppose those are the main points. Trying.’

     ‘I have learned much from you, Jane.’ He leaned closer. ‘But the most important thing I have come to understand about the human race: there is no limit to your potential. That is what I saw in you the day we met. I know you see the same thing in others around you and you believe it is worth fighting for. I will fight for your beliefs until my dying second, but only if you will fight along side me.’ Optimus placed his hand next to me, his blue eyes staring into my soul. ‘Will you fight with me tomorrow? Will you fight for the potential of the human race?’

     My body felt like it was about to take off. ‘Yes.’ I breathed. Yes, I would fight for humanity. Yes, I would fight for what I believed. Yes, I would fight for tomorrow.

     Optimus sat with me for the rest of the night until the sun disappeared behind the horizon. It would be a long trip the next day, but if I had Optimus Prime on my side, then I knew I could do it.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

[nobody-for-sure]

Language Barrier

If you didn’t pay attention to the interludes, they’re going to start tying in now. Also, if you have yet to read the story’s important notes (I don’t know why you wouldn’t have, since I’ve already asked on a previous chapter as well as the masterlist), it’s never too late to correct a mistake. It’s been semi-updated recently as well, so another quick reread/skim is never a bad idea.

Chapter 14

(~3.2k words, see chapter list here)

You didn't expect this.

Maybe you should have. But by all accounts, your life has always been... pretty average. Things happened. People came and went. You were there, but not really. Sometimes, you seemed to be an outside observer of your own life, just watching things happen with no control over them. Sometimes, nothing felt right. You were the sort of person who wouldn't mind getting isekai'd, because you didn't have a ton of attachments to your world... at least, that's what you always told yourself.

So then why are you crying?

You lift a hand to your tear-stained cheek as your companions snooze away nearby. The sky is getting lighter, but the sun has not yet broken over the horizon as you rise from your borrowed sleeping bag and take a few steps away from the camp. You take a seat on the riverbank, watching the water lap gently against the shore.

There's no 'if's, 'and's, or 'but's about it: you're homesick.

You had a dream again. Like before, you can't remember all of it, but you cling to fragments, trying to piece them together.

You were back home again... though the word 'home' feels funny on your tongue, as if it's not quite right. You remember a bunch of people: friends and loved ones of yours. You can't recall if they were gathered for a specific event or purpose, or if they were just all there by coincidence because that's how dreams work. Nor can you recollect what anyone said to you, which leaves you the most ill at ease, because you have a feeling it was something important.

Even Autumn was there. You don't know what Autumn looks like in real life, but your dream had assigned them a random figure, and you knew instinctively who they were. Who else could it be? They gave you a sad smile from across the room as the others were talking, and it haunts you. Why are you sad, my friend? Why am I?

Answers. Liyue will have answers. It has to.

Your first encounter with slimes happens around mid-morning. You haven't quite reached the Stone Gate outpost when you pass a rich vein of Cor Lapis, and out pop several small geo slimes.

They're cute, just as you expected. Not quite as cute as the official art made them out to be, but very small and squishy. Very... squeezable.

You want to hug one.

Luck must be on your side, because the slimes start bouncing directly toward you. Your companions ready their weapons, and Noelle moves to shield you. She succeeds in blocking most of them, but one of them slips past her and bumps against your leg.

"Ouch!" It wasn't a hard bump by any means, but even without the thick armor of a larger geo slime, the little rock-horns on its head are sharp enough to scrape your leg. The slime seems a little surprised as well, and nudges against your leg more gently. Aw... that's kind of sweet.

"Xaue kigxm, kxg aue egqu?!" Amber exclaims frantically.

You imagine she's concerned for your welfare, so you wave your hand dismissively. A little scratch is far from what it takes to do you in; but your companions are here to take their escort mission seriously. Fischl twirls her bow with dramatic flair and gestures to Oz. "Ujrgbfu, rxalta enz ymtoc jtg kmtarv kyknz yjtkol uzto rgtxkzk yyktqxgj!"

"Es ymtoc kxg ejgkxrg jkrxalta, toks tokragxl," he responds, swooping up next to Noelle as the outrider and the princess take aim from a short distance. Meanwhile, Bennett rushes over to you, preparing to defend you from the slime currently rubbing against you.

You wave your hands frantically at him. "Wait, no! I think they're friendly!"

He pauses, giving you a searching look. "You... ztuj ztgc us uz qigzzg?" he says, sounding unsure of himself. The others stop to glance at you as well. In response, you lean down to pet the slime. It's got a bit of a dusty texture, like a box that's been in the attic too long, but it's not wholly unpleasant. It's also really...

......really......?

For some reason, your mind feels hazy as you search for the right words. It's...?

You slump to the ground, causing shouts of alarm from your companions. Simultaneously, the slime puffs up, expanding to more than half the width of the walkway and gaining a rocky plate of armor. Amber and Fischl unleash a volley of arrows, and Oz starts firing off bolts of lightning. With a sweep of her claymore, Noelle bats what's left of the smaller slimes into the stream nearby and rushes back to you, inserting herself firmly between you and the still-growing slime. "Kygkrv kbgkr yonz uz ya, xaue kigxm!" Bennett also steps up, his eyes narrowed in fiery determination as his sword starts to glow with pyro.

You clutch your head, too dazed to stop them. What the fuck just happened?

With difficulty, you try to focus as your companions whack away at the giant slime. You're tired... no, not tired. You're weak, like all the strength has left your body. But how? And why? Are you such a weak god that you're so easily bested by a slime of all things?

Nope, you're pretty sure this is the clincher. No way are you a god. Goodbye, cruel world. I hardly knew you.

The fight is over almost as soon as it began. You don't know who deals the final blow (or shot). One second the slime is there, getting battered from all sides; the next, it's gone. You can feel the difference, though. It's like a change in the air. A sudden wave of energy washes over you, and the fog in your head clears abruptly as your strength returns to you.

You feel... fine. Better, in fact, if that's even possible. But your confusion doubles now that you can think clearly again. Did that slime absorb your energy somehow? Did you just absorb energy from a slime?? ...Come to think of it, the game had those elemental particle things... have you charged up your (nonexistent) elemental burst??? Can you-

"Xaue kigxm!" The collective voices of your companions snap you out of your thoughts. Now that the danger has passed, everyone crowds around you anxiously.

"Sorry- I'm fine, thank you... sorry," you repeat. You're not quite sure what you're apologizing for - you didn't manifest the slimes; but you seem to be to blame for making the battle of greater difficulty than necessary, so it feels like the appropriate thing to do.

Bennett translates while rapidly shaking his head, as if disagreeing. "No 'sorry'!" he says when he finishes, obviously trying to use words you'll understand. "'Thank you'... yes; no 'sorry'!" It's awkward phrasing, reminiscent of Razor, but it gets the message across. You give him a small smile.

Amber puts a comforting hand on your shoulder while Noelle kneels and starts digging around in her bag. "Yzgnz znmox, yzo zut xaue zragl, xaue kigxm! Ztuj exxuc zauhg g mtonz, krrkut rroc kbgn aue jknizgv va to ut ksoz!" the outrider says cheerfully. The maid pulls a cloth and a roll of bandages out of her pack and starts dabbing at your leg. Now that your initial shock has worn off, you realize that the slime's horns gouged you a little deeper than you originally thought. You wince as she gently fishes a pebble out of the shallow wound.

All in all, not a great start to your day... and your disappointment that you won't be gaining a slime companion is immeasurable. But as Noelle sets the cloth down and begins diligently wrapping your leg, you realize something good did come of the situation.

The cloth is stained a vibrant gold.

Your mood picks up considerably when you reach Dihua Marsh, and Wangshu Inn looms in the distance. With your destination in sight, the party is rejuvenated, and everyone picks up the pace. Truthfully, it's bigger and even more beautiful than you imagined, especially with the afternoon light hitting it just right - but that's not why you're excited, of course.

"Eh knz egc," Amber ventures as you cross the bridge, "yonz yo erhghuxv g jgh ksoz uz qyg, zah... uj etg lu aue qgkvy kykaeor? O zyap cutq tgoxksay."

"I cutq g zoh," Bennett replies proudly. "Knz yjgj kbgn tkkh mtonigkz me. You xkbkt cutq zgnc kxaue mtoum uz xkztauitk mtoxaj tg kxaztkbjg!" He scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "Na, zgnz jogy... uy xgl yzo erzyus ioygh tuozgyxkbtui jtg rgtuozgazoy llazy zauhg ykosktk, uy so zut kxay cun ralkya zgnz rroc kh."

Fischl gives a closed-mouth laugh that reminds you of an anime villainess, minus the ill intentions. "Xgkl zut, es rgeur yzikphay! Enz jkskkzyk toyykftoxv yo jkztogawig nzoc etgs ykamtuz to xkjxu uz erxkvuxv kzgiotassui nzoc rrg xkn jkzubkj yxkcurrul."

"Knz zygr quuh to xkn kzoxubgl ykoxky ztjoj zkm jkzgrytgxz, uy kny jkojazy kzoaw eryauoigxub uz kky zo uz yzo tuoyaritui."

"Fu!"

Noelle clears her throat. "Errgazig, o uyrg cutq kzoaw g zoh. O ztjrauc um uy xgl yg uz rrgi lrkyes ztkarl, zah o tgi kzgmobgt zyus ytuozgyxkbtui."

"Qtgnz yyktjuum!" Amber breathes a sigh of relief. "O ztjoj cutq zgnc kc kxkc mtoum uz uj xul g kzatos kxknz."

As she speaks, a man hurries down the steps of the inn. Spotting your group, he rushes over, planting himself in front of you in a deep bow. "Xy wy ro varal ax uf ry veai ugruwuvs, veai uryzyh ugovk. Uzub ruuf kryxguscu eai hro veai huquuxwu wuxipago, hro ub hpeab uf huwoups hraiuf uvewouq ax vujja vea upfqel wugyzvuw aw xolx eai xlkyq xwuv iwou kryveh veai wpuzovx."

Blankly, you look to your companions, waiting for one of them to handle it. Fischl steps forward. "Veai ixypoxyswal wy xwaq huxoyguvsso," she says, and is it your imagination, or does she sound slightly less confident than normal? "Vyulx ugovk wxsuggo ilx- veai weavuruk vujja, hro hpealw unyp ax ukpehry ry o pouq hro o wxlkyr xwuv uvajuf iulx hro vyulx ueryxuv ueryxrag vyulx rayxoryvkuvus- iurveam."

"Erkiot ktuj, toks tokragxl," Oz murmurs, and she puffs out her chest a bit, looking pleased.

"Ja uwveag, ja uwveag!" The man rises, sweeping a hand toward the building. "Vuzuxolb vyulx ugovk wuvywuh, jy xy wy rylxyb vea vubas ax uhyzavs, ub ppolw. Uwoups, bappo uq ax balw eai ax ulx vaxozupu." It would seem you're being offered a formal invitation. Fischl's gaze flickers to you, and you dip your head cautiously. She gives him a dignified nod, and Noelle waves you forward when he turns and starts walking. The others fall into step behind you.

When you get to the wooden platform, the man heads left toward the elevator. You pause. It took you forever to get the commissions to fix the stairs, so you're damn proud of them. But if no one's going to use them, what was even the point?

So be it. You'll use them, if no one else will.

You extend a finger in that direction and tip your head to your companions, indicating you want to go that way. They look at each other, shrug, and nod amicably. Everyone changes their course to see the fruits of your (aka the traveler's) labor; but as you reach the bottom step, you notice Bennett hanging back warily. "What is it?"

"Sa... ykxknz no mtorogx tu ktu kjoy," he says, licking his lips nervously. "Zo yquur jtoq lu- I zyap qtonz- zo znmos kh xkzzkh xul me uz kqgz knz xuzgbkrk yonz ksoz, gngn. Sorry." He points apologetically to himself, and then in the direction the other man disappeared. You're confused. He wants to take the elevator? Everyone else looks like they understand his request immediately, though, so you give him a nod.

Fischl falls back as well. "To zgnz kygi, enz toyykftoxv rrgny etgvsuiig aue to knz ztkbk lu... skng... tkkykxulta ykitgzysaixoi." She puts a hand on his shoulder and gives you a wave as the two of them round the corner, disappearing from sight.

Well... alright then. Their actions strike you as a bit strange without further context, but you assume they have their reasons. Even if they're just tired from walking the whole day, that's good enough for you.

You turn back around. Noelle gives you a supportive smile, and Amber gestures eagerly, already climbing the steps. The three of you set a leisurely pace, stopping to lean against the railing and admire the new view every time you round a corner. Mondstadt is no less scenic, but it’s full of rolling hills; Wangshu Inn is perfectly positioned between the flat marsh and the plains, providing a rare and spectacular view of nearly all of Liyue. Amber is enthralled by the floating Statue of the Seven in the distance, pointing and gawking in excitement. Meanwhile, Noelle seems content to simply enjoy the way the sunlight glints off the water as the first autumn leaves flutter past.

...Autumn.

You shake your head. Think about something else. Think about... think about Xiao. The thought spurs you on. Wangshu Inn might be a convenient place to spend the night, but you didn't come all this way to not see the yaksha. In fact, you'd been privately hoping to stop here for that very reason. With renewed vigor, you urge your companions onward, taking the steps two at a time in an effort to leave your less-than-pleasant thoughts behind you.

In no time at all, you reach the landing, and you round the corner without stopping, ignoring the gaping passerby and giving a wave to an unfazed Verr Goldet as you continue up to the second balcony. Your excitement grows with every step. If your friendship level theory is correct - as it seems to be - you should be able to understand Xiao better than anyone else you've encountered so far.

...In fact, being who he was, he'd probably know you were coming, wouldn't he? Do you dare to hope that he might be... waiting for you? You put on a burst of speed, stumbling up the last couple steps. And, sure enough, standing by the overlook waiting for you is-

-no one. But up on the roof-

...also no one.

In your dreams, a voice taunts in your head.

This is just not your day.

You purse your lips, reluctant to give up so quickly. There's still one option. Should I call him?

You don't get time to think about it. Amber and Noelle finish pounding up the last flight of stairs behind you, looking mildly winded from the sudden exertion. "Xaue kigxm-" Noelle starts, but doesn't get any further before Oz swoops over the balcony.

"Toks tokragxl ygn ztky ks uz sxulto aue zgnz knz xuzgbkrk yo qiazy," he says calmly. "Kny yegy, jtg o kzuaw, 'yg jkzikvdk'."

This draws a sigh from both of them. Amber brings a dismayed hand to her forehead. "Qig, kc kxkc zyap zauhg kaj xul mtonzksuy kqor yonz, ztkxkc kc? Zo kxay ztjoj kqgz mtur xul yon jgh qiar uz qioq to kitu kn jkzgxgvky suxl xoknz kigxm."

"Xuuv zzkttkh," Noelle says sympathetically. "Rro zkr knz xkvkkqtto cutq yzgnc jktkvvgn, aue kkxnz um qikni tu sknz." Amber nods and takes your hand. With some disappointment (which you do your best to hide), you allow her to guide you back down the stairs at a brisk pace, with Oz leading the way. This time, you cut straight through the inn and onto the opposite side of the landing, where the elevator and the teleport waypoint are.

Where the elevator should be, anyway.

Amber lets go of your hand and leans over the railing. "Kxg aue yeam znmoxrg?!" she shouts down.

You hear Bennett's awkward laughter as you peer over behind her, and you're alarmed by what you see. The elevator is stalled, dangling halfway between the two platforms. Even further down, the man who greeted you appears to be frantically checking over some sort of pulley system. Immediately, your eyes dart to the rigging at the top. Fortunately, nothing looks like it's about to snap... for now.

"Ztuj exxuc, yonz yo zyap xknzutg egj to knz klor lu tg xkxaztkbjg!" Bennett calls back up. He gives you both a thumbs up through the open doorway, though you notice he's otherwise pressed snuggly into a corner, looking cheerful as ever but not taking any chances. Fischl has made herself comfortable leaning against one of the walls, seeming almost bored with the whole affair. Justifiable, since you can only imagine how many times she's been through something like this. Oz glides back down to join his mistress.

"Ykrrkut mtozzkm knz xkvkkqtto," Amber responds. "So gttum qikni knz mtommox - o qtonz o kky mtonzksuy jkmmgty to kxknz." She gestures for you to stand back near the waypoint before shimmying up a post and beginning to fiddle with something out of your range of sight.

You do as she says, absently running your fingers over the waypoint as you look on uselessly. It's yet another instance where you can do nothing, and you're reminded again of just how much dead weight you are. It's beyond frustrating, and all the more so now that your golden blood has been revealed to you. What you thought would be a blessing is now seeming like a curse in disguise. Being a weak human mistaken for a god is one thing, but being a weak god? Why can't you do anything? Ugh, at least if these teleport points actually worked like they were supposed to, you wouldn't have to bother people with the mundane task of escorting you, if nothing else!

......Actually, wait a minute.

Do the waypoints work like in the game? When you cool your head a bit, you suddenly realize you haven't tried. Excluding the statue at Windrise, you haven't been this near to any until now - at least that you were paying attention to at the time.

You don't have the map, of course, but maybe you can just... think really hard about where you want to go? It's worth a shot. Best case scenario, you wind up exactly where you want to go. Worst case, it only works for the traveler (or as a game mechanic) and nothing happens. Either way, there's no harm in trying. If it works, you can just come right back and inform everyone.

You reach up to press your hand against the floating device. It's higher off the ground than it looked in the game but still easily within reach. The bluish material has an odd feel to it, one you're not quite sure how to describe. Magical, perhaps. The waypoint pulses with energy, and you feel confident it has to do something.

I want to go to Liyue Harbor, you think to yourself, trying to picture it in your mind's eye.

Nothing happens, but you're undeterred. Maybe you need to say it out loud. "Take me to Liyue Harbor," you say firmly, visualizing the overlook by the waypoint just outside the city.

...Still nothing.

You let your hand slide to the bottom in disappointment. This really isn't your day. First the ominous dreams... then I touch a slime and end up nearly fainting for some reason... and after that, I want to see Xiao, but he's not here, of course... and now all of this. What does it take for something to go my way, for once?!

And then everything goes white.

[good-beans]

HI @rainbowghostcat and @boxx-sama -- I have been enabled so I'm here to ramble a bit about my faves >:3 Top three are definitely Fuuta, Mahiru, and Yuno! Good taste gang !!🤝✨✨✨

It's a mix of enjoying their songs, genuinely getting into their stories, and relating to them just enough to go a little crazy asdfsd :') Shidou comes in at a close 4th, I love him a lot but I'm not as insane as I am about these guys lmao.

I was holding onto these asks to ramble when I had the time/energy but uuuuhhh I didn't mean to go on for so long sorry 😭 Woe, 03 06 02 thoughts be upon ye...

Starting with Fuuta!! His character has everything – He’s cool, he’s lame, he’s terrifying, he’s tragic, he’s funny, he’s unbearably real, he’s my silly little guy, he makes me cry, etc. The core of his character that always gets me is how normal he is. How he’s probably closest to the majority of the audience – he (and Kazui) are the only ones who did not have murder on their mind at all. He anticipated harm, but the thought of someone dying never once crossed his mind. He’s right around teens/early twenties. He engages with the online world a lot. So many milgram fans are in that age range, on the internet a lot (in order to enjoy the project and its fanbase), feel a strong sense of justice (since they’re so engaged in a project about morality), and aren’t in any situation dramatic enough that they expect anyone to die. He’s so much like all of us. 

Continuing on that, his heart really is in the right place to start. He cares deeply about people and society, which is why he wants to fix it. His vision is a bit small, focusing on petty issues rather than huge social issues, but the point is he cares. He attacks Es because he’s trying to be the brave representative after hearing Haruka and Yuno were attacked. He yells at Kazui and Mahiru because they’re not helping the others. He takes care of Haruka. He gives Mahiru a birthday gift even when he has nothing to give. 

His biggest issue is, he doesn’t belong. I’ve written up a whole analysis on how he’s written very neurodivergent: he misses social cues, he’s on the outskirts of friendships and groups. It’s more clear in characters like Haruka and Muu, but Fuuta is just as incredibly desperate for attention. For love. For that feeling of belonging in a group. His knightly fantasies aren’t ones of violence and weapons – they’re mostly scenes of him surrounded by a close-knit party of adventurers who are cheering him on. 

All of this together is what makes him so compelling and so tragic to me. All the characters are human and real, but he’s the closest to a lot of viewers (myself included). He let the attention get to his head for just a bit too long, let himself get swept away in finally having friends. He got distracted thinking that the focus of being a hero was defeating, and not protecting. And all it took was a brief time of getting drunk on this attention, and now he has a little girl’s blood on his hands. It makes me absolutely insane.

I also think he’s such a cool special case because he truly got a taste of his own medicine. The other characters are being judged in an unfamiliar way, but he is being scrutinized in the Exact same way that Fuuta pried open others’ privacy. He was attacked and almost died because of Es’ judgment, just as his victim was attacked because of his judgment. The process of Milgram is putting him in his victim’s shoes, and it’s so cool to see.

Aaaaand on a lighter note – he’s just so fun!! He’s my little skrunkly fr!!! I love his shit-eating grin. I love his ridiculous laugh. I love his crooked teeth. I love the knight theme, and the fire symbolism. It’s pretty standard, but it suits him perfectly. He’s got such cool, badass songs! I’m obsessed with his voice, both his singing and vd performances are incredible. His vds are the only ones I’ll listen to often and out of the blue – Arthur Lounsbery uses such an interesting and fun voice for him ;--; His design is so fun (apparently I have a Type for redhead characters…), and his t2 development and design were amazing! There has been no other Milgram character that I want to reach through the screen and shake violently by the shoulders and also hug so badly 😂

I’m so obsessed with her theme of ‘being so kind that it causes harm’!! Because it’s very easy to dismiss the other characters as unforgivable when you look at the harm they wanted to cause their victim, or disregard they had for their victim’s feelings. But Mahiru… she doesn’t want to cause any harm. At all. She took her boyfriend’s feelings into consideration so much so that she didn’t stop him when she definitely should have. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body and yet she fucked up big time!! It’s such a unique type of murder!! The other characters need to be sat down and told “don’t hurt innocents, don’t seek revenge, don’t be selfish, etc” and then Mahiru is over here like “don’t be… nice to people.” Because it’s not about being nice per se – it’s about not being a doormat. 

(I know her story is still a bit mysterious – my running theory is that her bf had health issues completely separate from their relationship. They started getting bad and he started to consider suicide. Instead of stopping him, Mahiru combined her need to copy her lover (as seen a lot in TIHTBILWY), her ideas that lovers do everything together, and her belief that one should do anything they set their mind to (as seen in her comments about Es/Kotoko and the attack). She says she’ll join him, make it a lovers’ suicide, but doesn’t follow through at the last second.)

She (and Mikoto) have really interesting themes of how not caring for yourself can actually hurt others. They put all their efforts into giving back to others, to society, fitting into the norms and expectations, not questioning others, and it backfires catastrophically. If she had stood up for herself and her relationship, she would not have assumed anyone deserved to die. She would have known that it wasn’t up to her alone to deal with her bf’s mental issues. She obviously wasn’t handling it correctly (rats….) but she didn’t need to! She should have pointed him to professionals instead of deciding she deserved to die along with him! But she was so poisoned by society’s expectations of being the perfect girlfriend and being considerate of others…

She’s just such a tragic case because the power of love is supposed to be perfect. She’s been taught her whole life that it’s wonderful and magical and pure. Who can kill with the power of love, after all? I can completely understand her denial of the situation, because I also wouldn’t picture a terrifying, dark scene if I knew I was only being nice for my whole life! 

And her crime aside – she’s super fun :3 She has The Most Fun songs, she’s full of energy and excitement and enthusiasm! (out of the various english covers I like, hers is the one I jam out to most often hehe). She’s the most stunning character there! I’m a sucker for sunshine-coded characters 🌻🌻🌻I think she has the best symbols out of everyone, between the birdcage and the carousel. The fact that both Mahiru and her bf could be the bird and the cage. The two symbols representing beautiful things that can be trapping. Representing cycles. Representing relationships. I know the hourglass is a popular one but I think this is Yamanaka's finest set of symbols. I am unwell about it. So yeah, rather than give her a good shake I want to yank her right out of there – Get in loser we’re gonna get you some self-love!!!!

And a slightly shorter rant on Yuno because that was a lot adfsdf. Ad I'm aware of the irony that one of my points is that it kinda sucks how most rants on Yuno are cut short :( The thing is, she’s been very honest about her crime, and most people have considered her issue in a context outside of Milgram so they already have a pretty good idea on where their vote stands. Despite being the “obvious” innocent one, she really is the most emotionally charged character imo. It’s easy to relate to the other characters and feel knee-jerk reaction, but none have been so widely discussed as abortion and sex work. I can talk openly about everyone else and get into a nice discussion on morals and emotions, but Yuno is the one character I have to talk very, very carefully around. Whether I’m rambling about Milgram to my family or interacting with new fans, I never know what’s acceptable to say without falling into a whole debate on politics.

So, if it’s made me into someone who keeps quiet and skirts around things, I shudder to imagine the amount of lying/masking Yuno herself must do on a daily basis. I can easily avoid the topic if I choose to – she was dealing with that debate long before coming to Milgram, and is currently dealing with debates and judgements and insults and pity surrounding it. She’s naturally strong so I think fans often forget all the shit that this 18yo is dealing with on a daily basis, and how effortless she’s making it look <3

[lurkingshan]

Recalibrating on Dangerous Romance, aka Heart in the Wind

After last week, I was feeling a little confounded by this show and what it was trying to be, and I think perhaps GMMTV marketing had a similar struggle. The English title was changed from Heart in the Wind to Dangerous Romance, and it was marketed like an enemies to lovers drama with darker undertones than we typically see in bl. Episode 1 mostly supported that read with a few discordant notes, and I recall after that first episode that a lot of us were talking about how refreshing it was to see the mains be actual enemies at the start, and looking forward to a long journey to see their feelings change. Which is why episode 2, with its very sudden shift in their dynamic at the end, felt so startling to some of us. The relationship change was happening too fast for that that kind of narrative, and Kang and Sailom seemed to be letting go of their animosity far too quickly and easily for actual enemies.

Now that I’ve watched episode 3, I feel like I have a better handle on what this show actually is: more of a push-pull romance narrative, where Sailom has been harboring positive (and possibly romantic) feelings for Kang all along, the hatred between them was never meant to be read as that serious, and the tone is overall lighter than initially expected. There will be drama, class differences, and difficult circumstances that interfere in this relationship, but animosity between them is not the real conflict. They already like each other, they’re already finding dubious reasons to kiss, and they’re already bonding and sliding into a close friendship on the fast track to romance. The problems that come between them going forward will be more externally based.

I must admit I am personally a little disappointed, because I wanted that darker and spikier version of the show, and a more serious examination of class conflict and the resentments it breeds. But I’m making like Elsa and letting it go, because Perth and Chimon are great in this and I want to appreciate what they’re doing rather than wallowing in my disappointment about what the show is not.

[myvirtuallove]

Say Cheese! || Darnell x Koko (ocxcanon)

koko having darnell take her pictures, and some other silly stuff about them being otp :p

just something i’ve been thinking about and have been wanting to write some headcanons about it || kinda short

— 🫶🏾.

i already established this a little in koko’s birthday headcanons, but she doesn’t let a lot of people take her picture. kinda because she’s a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to her pictures but, yeh.

darnell however, became one of the few people who were allowed to do so, and because he does it so often now..lemme tell you he does NOT mess around. it’s like it became embedded in his head.

koko ended up buying a digital camera so she can use that or her phone—mostly using her digital camera on the more special occasions

either way, darnell does NAWTT play. at first he was just like “it ain’t even that serious just lemme take it so we can go” but now it definitely is that serious

“i think this one is cute baby” “move over a lil’.” “gimme a different pose” “yuupp. jusst like that 📸” and suchh and suchh

koko isn’t too sure where the sudden dedication came from but she isn’t complaining—she is the one who was making him take the pictures, after all.

“ouu—this one. ‘makes my ass look fat 🤭”

“cus it is.”

koko:

THEY BOTH SCREENSHOT EACH OTHER ON FACETIME❗️❗️❗️

koko has more screenshots of darnell than he does of her—and it’s because he acts a damn fool on call. i’m a firm believer that he’s a goof ‼️.

he’ll make a stupid face and see the camera flash on the screen and will stop everything hes doing

“why would you take that.” “take what?” “stop playin’ koko”

he will literally be in the camera like this for no reason:

he probably facetimes her at literally the most raandom times of the day. it’ll be like 11 and night and he’ll call and show that he lit some shit on fire just because

“look lol” “darnell im tryna sleep” “you can spare a few minutes 🙂🔥”

“whatchu want from the store?” “you couldn’t text me this?” “excuse me for wantin’ to see my girl”

“whys ur camera off” “‘doin’ somethin, D.” “ion care— i wanna see u, is that not why i facetimed u 🤨” sassy ass boy

“can u get me some more lighters?” “i just bought some D.” “yeah…need more tho.” “….(heavy sigh) alright.” “ty babe—i’ll pay ya’ back 😘”

falling asleep otp canon real real real

koko trying on outfits for him otp canon real real REALLL

das it for now lol

[meetmymouth]

the intimacy of little things: v

au ⌕ florist!harry x photographer!ofc 

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She walks inside the Another Man building, and this time, she remembers to wipe her feet on the small, worn-out door mat by the entrance. Olive looks up, and calls for her, making her stop in her tracks just as she’s about to get in the lift.

“Good morning, Olive,” she smiles, taking a mint from the small bowl on her desk.

She grunts, then looks her up and down. “You look very professional,” she takes in her black jumpsuit and heeled boots. “Are you getting a promotion?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Talulah winks. “I’m not. I have a meeting with MJ and Paula. I thought I’d dress up for a change.”

“Hm,” Olive nods, though Talulah sees the tiny smile creeping in. “Okay– well, go, you’re holding me up.”

“Oh– yeah,” she nods, pinching her cheek before taking a step towards the lifts. “See you later, Liv!”

It was Thursday, which meant she had two shoots after her morning meeting with MJ and Paula. She smiles at a few colleagues before making a beeline into the small kitchen, hand already in her white canvas bag, trying to locate her coffee cup.

“Is this your last day of work?”

She looks up at Zayn’s voice, and it earns him an eye-roll.

“Why?” She puts the kettle on, placing her bags on the small table in front of her.

Zayn is leaning against the counters, and he looks good as usual, dressed in white trousers and a red jumper with polka dots.

“You’re dressed awfully nice.”

“Are you trying to say I don’t dress nice usually?” She asks, grabbing a spoon from the rack.

Zayn shrugs. “Not this nice. Is that a Gucci belt?” He leans forward to investigate. “Is it real? Please don’t tell me otherwise.”

“It’s real,” she swats his hands off of her, and takes the boiled water, pouring it into her cup. “I have a meeting with MJ and Paula.”

“About?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Well, maybe it is your last day, if Paula is here,” he shrugs, taking his cigarettes out of his pocket. “Shall we?”

“Yes. Let’s go.”

She drops her bags off in her small office, and follows Zayn outside, both of them taking their spot by the railings, and she extends the lighter, helping him light his cigarette. They mostly smoke in silence, the only noise surrounding them coming from the London traffic; horns and tires screeching, and Zayn sighs, turning to Talulah.

“Are you happy, Talulah?” He says, taking another drag from his cigarette.

Deep conversations weren’t out of the ordinary for Zayn and Talulah. Despite people thinking of Zayn as a quiet person, he loved talking when the timing was right. He said what needed to be said.

She looks up at him, a surprised twinkle in her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Are you happy– with Harry, with everything going on in your life?”

“I don’t know,” she purses her lips. She hadn’t thought about it in a while– what being happy meant. She says as much. “I haven’t thought about it, to be honest.”

“Mhm,” Zayn nods, taking another drag from his cigarette. He puts it out on the side of the wall, and discards it in one of the plastic cups they brought out and used as a make-shift ashtray.

“I guess so– I guess I’ve been happier recently,” she nods. “Harry helps. Therapy helps, too.”

Zayn only nods, and looks down at his shoes. “Good.”

“Are you? Happy?” She redirects the question, earning a chuckle from him.

“I think so. I’ve no reason to be unhappy.”

“Not at all?”

“Not at all.”

She is called into MJ’s office when she’s just walking inside with Zayn, and she promises to keep him updated on the meeting as she begins walking towards his office at the top floor. Her boots click on the marble floors, and she takes a deep breath before knocking on the stained glass door.

She hears MJ’s deep voice inviting her in, and she opens the door, finding Paula already sitting on one of the chairs around the meeting table MJ has in his office. She greets them both with a smile on her face, and walks further into the office, closing the door behind her.

“Take a seat,” MJ nods, clearly the one designated to talk more today as opposed to Paula who watches them both with a barely-there smile.

Paula takes a deep breath, clearly wanting to get to the point.

Talulah turns to her.

“How do you feel about an intern joining you for a couple of weeks, Talulah?” Paula asks, hands on the table.

“An intern?”

“Yes. Remember how and where you started?”

“I do, yes, of course,” she nods, turning to MJ.

MJ nods along, and waits for Paula.

“We are hiring for our new building in New York. MJ suggested someone shadow you for a few weeks before he makes the move to settle in New York. We already have someone coming, just wanted to see how you felt about someone shadowing you here,” Paula says, crossing her arms.

“Are you– sure? I mean, I’ve never had anyone shadowing me before.”

“MJ trusts you,” Paula nods. “And so do I, to be completely honest. We’re very happy with you, and he figured you would want this opportunity.”

“I mean, yeah, of course– yeah.”

“Yes?” Paula asks, turning to MJ for a second. “Are you saying yes, then?”

“Yes,” Talulah confirms, a small smile appearing.

MJ claps his hands, and reaches across the table to squeeze Talulah’s cold ones.

“Great!” He says, turning to Paula. “I’ll inform Noah, and get him a visitor’s ID, and whatnot.”

“Okay, great,” Paula nods, getting on her feet.

Talulah does the same.

“Thank you, Talulah,” Paula says, cracking a tiny smile. It’s so small Talulah barely recognises it before Paula turns around, and leaves MJ’s office.

“Any questions?” MJ asks, phone in hand.

“I mean– yeah. Who is he? How long is he shadowing me for? I’m nervous– is that normal?”

“Yeah, it’s normal. Don’t be nervous, you’re great at what you do, otherwise Paula wouldn’t agree on it, you know her,” MJ smiles.

“I do, yeah. So,” she says. “When do I get to meet him? What’s he like?”

“Tomorrow. And, he’s great– got great connections. He was working freelance before, but got great recommendations.”

She nods, and they chat for another couple of minutes before she leaves his office, and makes his way to her own floor. Lauren is already in her seat, working on something on her computer, and she walks over to her desk.

“Hey,” she greets her, and she turns around, smiling at her.

“Hey, you.”

“I just got back from MJ’s office–”

“–Are you fired?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“I’m having someone shadow me for a couple of weeks before they hire him for the New York office,” she murmurs, looking around for Zayn.

He’s just leaving the kitchen, and when he notices them both, he walks over to them.

Lauren claps her hands, despite the look she’s receiving from Talulah, and Zayn nods at her.

“Is she fired?” He says, sitting on the corner of her desk.

Talulah sighs. “Why is everyone asking the same thing?”

“We’re just fucking with you,” Lauren laughs, turning to Zayn. “She’s gonna have an intern shadow her for a couple of weeks before they move to New York.”

“Oh,” Zayn turns to Talulah. “Well done, T. That’s good news. Paula was there, wasn’t she?”

“Yep,” she nods. “She even cracked a smile. Once or twice.”

“Congratulations, T. That means they’re very happy with your performance,” Zayn says, placing a hand on Talulah’s shoulder. He squeezes, and Talulah smiles at him.

One of today’s shoots included working with Nick Robinson, and she couldn’t help but feel giddy over it. She gets ready, and brainstorms about the shoot with Zayn and his crew, and he tells her which lighting would be the best for some of the outfits he would have on. She makes a cup of coffee, and walks into the lift with Zayn and Metta. The studio is already alive, a blue backdrop already on as per Talulah’s request. ‘Mother of Pearl’ by Roxy Music is playing, the song coming through Zayn’s speakers, and she tries to get everything ready before Nick Robinson shows up with his entourage.

“You good?” Zayn asks, holding a pastel green scarf.

She nods, and turns towards the lifts when she hears commotion.

It’s Nick Robinson, dressed in wide leg trousers and a navy crochet vest. His hair is styled to perfection, and a few strands fall over to his face, creating a ‘nonchalant’ look.

“Hello,” he smiles, walking over to them.

He first greets Zayn, reaching a hand as they shake each other’s hand, and then he turns to Talulah.

“Hey,” he says, reaching and shaking her hand. “You’re Talulah.”

“I am,” she smiles, perhaps a little too big, and lets go of his soft hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Nick turns to his PA, and Zayn guides him over to where a stool is stood in the middle of the room, in front of the backdrop. He sits down, and gives them a cheesy smile.

“I’ll just do a couple of test shots,” she says, grabbing her camera off the tripod. “And then, we’ll start.”

“Cool,” Nick grins. “How do you want me?”

“Doesn’t matter, just look at me and smile a little?”

He hums, and does what he’s told. It’s an easy shoot, Nick delivers what he’s supposed to, and Talulah can’t help but ask about his films, I’m a fan, if you couldn’t tell.

“Thank you for everything,” Nick says, shaking her hand after they wrapped up.

“Thank you, you were great.”

Lunch break comes too soon, and Talulah eats her wrap in silence as her greasy fingers work the keyboard of her laptop. She answers some emails, forwards some here and there, and sends herself a couple to remind her of her tasks for the upcoming weeks. Before closing her laptop, she gets another email from HR, MJ and Paula cc’d, about Noah’s arrival on Wednesday.

“T?”

She looks up at Zayn’s voice.

He’s standing by the door, his glasses in hand.

“Yes?”

“Jules is asking if you’d like to come around for dinner,” he says, looking down at his phone. He sounds gruff, like he’d been smoking for the last couple of hours.

She laughs. “Tonight?”

“I guess.”

“I mean– do you want me to come?”

He looks up, eyebrows raised in question. He looks bored. “What?”

“I’m joking.”

“Oh.”

“Jesus– you’re so awkward sometimes,” she closes her laptop, and starts tidying up her things– stuffing everything in her tote. “I’ll come.”

“Bring Harry, too.”

“What?” Chargers. Glasses. Favourite pens. More chargers– all stuffed in the yellow tote.

Zayn groans, taking a step back. “Bring Harry. Tonight.”

A grin appears on her face.

Zayn liked Harry.

Zayn rarely showed interest in people– especially the ones who just entered their lives.

“Okay…” she grins wider, turning off the small lamp on her desk. “I’ll ask him.”

Zayn nods. He watches her cross the desk and walk over to him with her bags as they begin walking side by side to the lift.

“Jules said it’d be nice,” Zayn says once in the lift, long fingers pressing the ground floor in a practised manner.

Talulah looks up, confused. “What?”

“Jules.”

“What?”

“She said Harry should come over as well. With you.”

“Okay, Zayn.”

Talulah looks down at the grey jeans she’s got on, and reaches for another pair on her bed. When she taps on her phone screen, it immediately goes off, showing Harry’s contact name. She answers with a smile, and in a few minutes, she’s locking her door and walking towards Harry’s Mini with quick steps as she tries to protect her makeup from the rain.

She gets in the warm car with a sigh, the sound of Harry’s wiper blades filling her ears as Harry greets her with a smile, watching as she places her bag on the backseat along with the wine bottle that’s secured in a pink tote.

“Hey,” he murmurs, lips already on her cheek as he presses a small kiss there. She smiles, taking in his smell and the moustache that’s been growing on his beautiful face.

She kisses his lips, then his chin. “Hey, you,” she notices the ‘Kiss’ t-shirt and his pink beanie. “Looking cosy with the beanie,” she murmurs, making him chuckle– his hand still on the back of her neck.

He thumbs at the soft skin there. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. Though, a t-shirt? It’s freezing.”

“I’ve got a cardigan on as well– and a coat,” he shrugs.

He kisses her one last time before letting go, and puts the car in drive.

“I missed you,” he looks at her, only for a moment before his eyes are back on the road.

There’s not much traffic, surprisingly, Talulah notes, so they drive in peace for the most part.

“I missed you, too,” Talulah agrees, reaching and messing with his beanie. He lets out a huff, one hand leaving the steering-wheel to fix the hat.

A moment of silence before he talks.

“You did?” He asks while Talulah is trying to connect her phone to the radio.

She doesn’t look up from her phone, her finger scrolling through her playlists to choose a song from. “I did, what?”

“You missed me?” Harry asks, clearing his throat.

He sounds on edge, almost, so she looks up from her phone screen, finding his eyes on the road.

“What do you mean?”

He takes a bit to answer.

“You’ve been a bit– I don’t know, I guess I wanted to hear your voice more these past couple of days.”

She holds off on starting her chosen song for a bit, out of respect.

“What do you mean?”

“I wanted to call more, text more…”

She chuckles. “We’ve been texting!”

“I know!” He lets out a laugh, but it sounds forced– almost embarrassed.

“So? Harry, are you okay?”

“I am. I’ve just– I don’t know, I’m being silly. I missed you, that’s all.”

“And I’ve missed you,” she laughs, right hand reaching and thumbing at the spot on his cheek where she knows his dimple would be.

He smiles, and she feels the dimple under her touch.

“Okay,” he says, voice quiet, but the dimple doesn’t disappear.

She likes it.

She prefers it that way.

They drive in silence for another minute before she turns to him again, finger hovering on the screen of her phone.

“Pick a number between one and twenty-one,” she says.

Harry lets out a chuckle. “Six,” Harry says, and she counts quickly, finger scrolling through songs.

She stops, and they both let out a laugh when Fleetwood Mac comes on.

“How predictable,” Harry says, eyes glinting despite the darkness of the car’s interior.

She hums.

How predictable, indeed.

‘Maybe now he could prove to her/ That he could be good for her/ And they should be together’

They arrive at Zayn and Jules’, and park the car in front of Zayn’s Range Rover. They joke about the size of Harry’s car compared to Zayn’s, and how his Mini fits into the space with ease before Talulah gathers her bags, and she watches Harry lock the car before turning to her with a wine bottle of his own in his hand.

He reaches for her free hand, and she smiles at the warmth of his palm against her own. They laugh about the wine they both had brought, same brand, and Talulah asks about Bo again. She knocks on the blue door, and watches for a moment as Harry takes in his surroundings.

Jules opens the door, wearing a bright-yellow jumper that is in contrast with the gloomy weather outside. Her smile is so big, Talulah can see the joy in her brown eyes as she ushers them inside, saving them from droplets of rain outside.

When they're inside the warm flat, Zayn appears out of nowhere, dressed in a pair of loose-fit jeans and a purple hoodie, and hugs them both. Jules accepts their gifts with a beaming smile– you didn't have to, and they take their seats at the table. Both Harry and Talulah compliment Jules–and Zayn–on the food, Zayn cracking a big smile when Jules looks down with a small smile as soon as Harry asks whether Zayn is a good cook or not.

“I’m so happy you guys could make it,” Jules says, cutting into her food.

Harry looks at Talulah for a moment, his smile widening, and turns to Jules. “Thanks for the invitation. You’re a good cook, everything’s delicious.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Jules smiles. “So,” her gaze wavers between Talulah and Harry. “How did you two meet?”

“Oh,” Harry turns to Talulah, like he’s waiting for her to give him the floor, or better yet, answer it herself.

Talulah doesn’t, though. She looks down, though a smile appears on her face as the silence fills the room, six pairs of eyes watching her.

Harry coughs into his fist. “We met at a Christmas dinner,” he answers, though it feels as though he’s wanting to say something else.

He doesn’t, though.

Instead, Talulah looks up, and places her hand on his chin, thumbing at the soft, warm skin there before turning to the curious pairs of eyes.

“Arielle hosted a Christmas dinner, we were both there,” she says, placing her elbows on the table. “I was mean to him.”

“You weren’t,” Harry laughs.

They all do.

“I was.”

“Nah,” Harry shakes his head, and turns to Jules with a smile on his face. “I saw her and wanted to introduce myself. She looked beautiful,” he says, and Talulah doesn’t have to look at him to know his cheeks are warm, and slightly flushed.

She still does, though.

She looks at his dimple, then into his eyes. Harry smiles.

“See,” Talulah turns to Jules. “He thought I was beautiful, and I was a total bitch to him.”

She turns her attention to Zayn, noticing how quiet he’d been all night. He’s got a sombre look on his face– a look she can’t quite work out. She raises her eyebrows at him, a silent conversation happening between the pair, and Talulah turns to Jules again, ignoring Zayn.

Harry interrupts her thoughts.

“Got us here in the end, didn’t it?” He says, biting his bottom lip.

They keep eating, and talking about nothing and everything all at once. At one point, Harry and Zayn start arguing over football, and Zayn groans one too many times when Harry brings up the league table.

Talulah falls quiet.

She thinks back to the first night they’d met– the first time Talulah had seen Harry.

She wonders if she’d dreamt the whole thing, their first interaction.

In truth, she wasn’t the one being mean– Harry had started it.

How could he not remember her? Still, to this day, how could Harry not remember the first time he’d seen Talulah? Had she changed that much in one night? Was it her makeup– her hair? Or, was it her clothes?

It was silly.

It was weird.

She didn’t know why it mattered so much, Harry being rude to her at the shop. It was insignificant. It was pointless to dwell on such a thing when he had redeemed himself already.

Harry was kind.

He was beautiful– in every sense of the word. His heart was big, and so warm, and Talulah wanted to hold it in her hands, despite the coldness of her palms– despite the imaginary callouses decorating her palms. She thought his big heart wasn’t fit for her dirty hands. It was as if her palms were too muddy, too bleak and unworthy for his big heart.

She looks up at his touch on the back of her neck.

“You with us?” Harry asks, grinning.

“Did you tell Harry about your new intern?” Zayn interrupts their moment, and she feels cold all of a sudden, despite Harry’s warm hand on her neck.

She feels his curious gaze on her, and she shakes her head. “I forgot to.”

“You have an intern?” Harry asks.

“Apparently…”

The night carries on, Harry insists on helping Jules with tidying up and putting everything in the dishwasher so she lets Harry and Zayn load the dishwasher while she puts the kettle on, Talulah watching quietly from a distance. She watches Harry joke with Zayn, Zayn’s usually quiet attitude disappearing under Harry’s jolly personality. Although it’s only been a couple of months of knowing Harry, Talulah can tell he’s quieter than usual. He zones out quite often when Zayn doesn’t talk, and he almost breaks a plate and drops cutlery more than once.

They sit and talk in Zayn and Jules’ spacious living room, and Talulah presses her body closer to Harry’s warmth when a new song comes on through the speakers. She can’t quite recall ever hearing the tune, or the melody, so she listens intently. Harry turns his attention to her, her head on his shoulder– hair touching the warm skin of his neck. He smiles down at her, though his eyes tell a different story.

She doesn’t question it there.

She lets him lay his head on hers, and she smiles, a small one, and hums when Jules gushes about the new greengrocers near Hamilton Road.

They leave Zayn and Jules’ flat around eleven, and Harry doesn’t reach for her hand when they’re walking towards his car like he did when they first arrived.

She hugs her aching body, trying to shelter the last bits of warmth inside her body and winter coat while Harry walks ahead, long limbs trying to beat the freezing weather.

“Are you angry at me?”

“What?”

She looks up from her seatbelt, and looks into his eyes, finding him already watching her tired fingers work the seatbelt.

Harry waits for her answer.

It doesn’t come for a while, until Harry’s turning the ignition and they’re on the road again.

Her hand reaches for the cable that connects their phone to the radio, though his cold hand stops her mid-reach.

She turns to him.

He’s focused on the road.

“Don’t,” he says, voice low, almost a murmur.

He does sound angry.

She feels her heart start beating even faster now, brain trying to come up with all the reasons he might feel so hostile and worked up.

She thinks it might be because she didn’t like the wine they brought, or perhaps it was when she rolled her eyes at his joke about one of her outfits she wore last week.

Could’ve been the time when he pressed a kiss to her chin, and she bit her lip while trying to distance herself from his touch because she felt Jules looking at them.

She comes empty-handed.

“Talulah?” Harry questions the overbearing silence in the tiny car.

She turns to him, catching a glimpse of his distant gaze before his eyes find their focus on the road.

“What?”

“I don’t want you to play a song to fill the awkwardness,” Harry grumbles.

If she were brave, she would’ve gasped at the heavy implications of his words.

“So it’s awkward now?” A bitter laugh leaves her mouth. She shakes her head. “What– who made it awkward– why? How is it my fault that you made it awkward, Harry? I mean–” she takes a deep breath, palms sweating.

“I didn’t say you made it awkward.”

“You implied it.”

Harry lets out a groan. “I didn’t. I’m just saying–”

She grows frustrated. She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Just fucking spit it out. You’re giving me the cold shoulder– you have been giving me the cold shoulder all night. I have no idea why you’re so– so angry about!”

“All night?” His voice is gruff, but still loud.

“Just tell me for God’s sake, Harry.”

“Do you even like me, Talulah?”

Talulah stiffens, levelling Harry with a hard, stone-cold gaze. “What?”

A bitter laugh escapes his mouth. “Do you? Do you like me as much as I like you?”

Talulah feels small.

She feels guilty, yet so angry.

How dare he?

How dare he question her feelings towards him when she should be the one doing so.

She should be the one questioning his feelings, his stance on this relationship, considering their first interaction.

Maybe, she found herself thinking from time to time, maybe Harry was just pretending.

Maybe he’s been pretending the whole time; pretending to have forgotten how awful he was to her when they first met, and the fact that he acted like he didn’t remember anything at Ariel’s party. Maybe Harry was a player. Maybe he was just an awful person– a scam.

So, yes, Talulah feels small. She feels six-years-old again, being questioned about her feelings, about how real they are. ‘Are you sure you’re hungry?’, ‘Did you really think it would work?’, ‘You’re only six, Lullah, don’t get involved in our business’, ‘You’re overreacting, you’re acting silly’.

“Are you even listening?” Harry asks, incredulously.

Talulah gulps, the lump in her throat expanding. “I am.”

“And you’re choosing not to answer,” he makes a sharp left, and she looks out the window, feeling alarmed for a moment before she chastises herself for feeling so, knowing Harry wouldn’t do anything to harm her.

“I just think it’s a stupid question.”

Harry stops at a red light, and the window rolls down, only a little bit. The breeze seeps inside the car, filling the small vehicle with the smell of smoke and exhaust. Talulah feels sick to her stomach, sick at the silence filling not only Harry’s car, but also Talulah’s heart.

Harry doesn't waver, he sends her a small smile. It’s filled with so much: so much love, but also sadness. It’s dull, but also so bright. She shakes like a leaf inside, though doesn’t show it on the outside.

“It’s not stupid,” Harry argues back. “Do you? Do you like me? Because I–” He puts the car in drive. “–I feel like I like you more than you like me–”

“–So you’ve said.”

“You don’t talk to me, Talulah!” Harry hits the steering wheel, though it’s only a gentle tap in her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She grows frustrated, anger showing in her wavering, shaky tone of voice. “I do talk to you. You know more about me than most people. You know about my mum, about– Harry, what happened?”

“Talulah, this past week you’ve been distant. I always feel like I’m bothering you when I text or call,” Harry tries to reason.

Talulah feels angry.

“Now, you’re being unreasonable.”

“How?”

“I’m not distant! We talk– we text. We’re fine. What’s this about– what’s the real reason?”

She doesn’t realise they made it to her flat until the car stops, and Harry puts the car in park. She knows someone will see his car in their parking space and walk downstairs to tell them off for it.

She doesn’t care.

She doesn’t think Harry does, either.

Harry exhales, and unbuckles his seatbelt, then clears his throat.

“You have an intern now?”

Talulah looks at him with raised eyebrows, a wicked smile painting her features.

“You’re fucking with me– is that why you’re angry?”

“No– yes. Not because you have someone shadowing you. Because it feels like you tell me nothing lately.”

“That’s such a stupid reason to be mad at me, though.”

“Zayn knows more about you. Even Jules does. I didn’t know you cut your finger until I asked why you were going out to buy plasters for,” Harry starts listing things, as if he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life. She’s bewildered, to say the least. Harry goes on. “I didn’t know your throat hurt until I asked about your voice– or– or when I wanted to see you and you told me you’d been assigned a new photoshoot for– for fucking Phoebe Bridgers. I mean– that’s fucking huge, isn’t it?”

“I’m lost.”

“I want to know you.”

“You know me.”

Harry carries on, shaking his head in disapproval. He doesn’t look convinced, nor pleased. “I just feel like– I feel like you’re holding back.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, okay.”

She tries to get closer to his face.

He turns his head.

“Harry.”

“Yes?”

“What are you saying?”

“I want to know why you’re holding back– what’s changed? It was different when we first met, when we first started seeing each other,” Harry looks down, his jeans seemingly more interesting now.

“Harry, that’s not true– nothing’s changed. I’ve just been busy,” she tries to reason, but to no avail; Harry’s stance is clear.

He looks distant– which is ironic, seeing how he argues the opposite.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Harry,” Talulah laughs– a pathetic sound, she thinks, her laugh is.

It’s alien inside the quiet car, the sound of the wind and rain filling her insides.

Harry smiles, like he’s trying to let her down easy. “I’ll call you tomorrow, because I think we’re both not making any sense now. I don’t think I explained myself clearly, and I’m just being really unreasonable and silly right now.”

Talulah lets out a breath. “You’re not being silly. I just– I’m confused.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel confused– I myself am confused. I think I’m just…”

“You’re just, what?”

“I like you, T.”

She bites her bottom lip. “I like you, too. You know that, right? I do– I really fucking like you, Harry.”

“I know, I know you do.”

“So?”

“I will call you tomorrow, I promise.”

She clears her throat, and unbuckles her belt. Grabbing her back, she doesn’t even look back as she closes the door behind her.

She opens her door, and she spends a few minutes getting rid of the layers of clothes she’s got on. When she dares looking out her window, she sees his car still parked where she left him a few minutes ago. The lampposts cast a shadow into his car, an orange hue, and she sees the light of his phone illuminating the dark interior of his car. She smiles, waiting for his text.

Harry locks her phone– she knows, because it’s dark in the car again.

Her phone doesn’t make a sound.

Harry drives off.

[positivexcellence]

Jensen Ackles Likes Where ‘Big Sky’ Season 3 Finale Left Beau & Jenny

I have to say how seamlessly Beau has fit into the world of Big Sky since his introduction last season.

Jensen Ackles: It’s never easy coming onto an established show and trying to find your footing. I came in [the] third season on The Boys; now I’m coming in third season on Big Sky. I’m just like, OK, here we go again. It’s like the new kid at school. But everybody was very welcoming. Everybody was very gracious, and yeah, they gave me a character I thought filled maybe a little bit of a void in what we were seeing in the show. I just tried to hit those notes and bring a little levity to what is essentially a pretty grim basis for a show, which is just murder mystery constantly. But it’s good to layer in some of the lighter moments. I think it just gives the show and the storyline some complexity that makes it makes it more entertaining.

At the beginning of the season, you joked with Elwood Reid about when you would go all Liam Neeson, and you certainly got to do that in these last two episodes with Avery (Henry Ian Cusick), Sunny, and Buck to save Emily.

Yeah, I feel like that might have been a little prophetic for me. [Laughs] I think I said it, and I willed it to happen, and Elwood was like, “look, man, it was your fault; you said it.” I was happy with the way it ended up. I kind of figured that that was where we were going, and I was looking forward to getting to show a different side of Beau and get to play that less happy-go-lucky, good ol’ boy and more of just a father in absolute misery and fury.

At the end of the season, Beau is kind of torn between moving back to Houston with Emily and Carla (Angelique Cabral) and facing his ghosts there and maybe staying and looking forward. Do you think he has any idea what he wants to do?

I don’t know. The show leaves Beau, I think, in a real contemplative state. I think that he has a strong desire to reconnect with his ex-wife. I think he still does love her. Obviously, he wants to be in as close proximity to his daughter as possible. That’s very enticing for reconnecting with his ex-wife as well. But then, at the same time, does that just lead to the same place that ended up breaking them up in the first place? And is this new role and a new place with new faces and new friends a fresh start for him that he needs to kind of move past what he was coming from in Houston? I think it sets up those questions in a great way. Whether or not we’ll answer them that’s not up to me.

How does Beau feel about Jenny? I kept expecting something to happen in that final scene…

Yeah. In my opinion, that’s just good TV. Leave the audience wanting more is something that I’ve heard many, many times, and I think it’s just a formula that works. And I think we gave just a little bit of what some of the audience was hoping for. There was a moment there, and there was a connection there, and there were clearly sparks. But do we need to play it out in a graphic sex scene? I don’t know. That’s for the streamers. We’re still doing broadcast TV here, still trying to keep it a little friendly.

Kisses do tend to happen in finales…

Let me ask you this, would it have been even worse had we started leaning towards the kiss and they cut the credits?

Probably.

Probably, right? [Laughs] Or would you have rather seen, like, boom, kiss, and the bedroom door flies open, and we’re just hungrily attacking each other, and we fall onto the bed, boom credits?

I was expecting to be left with the question of whether they would even go further than a kiss and cross that line.

Yeah, absolutely. I think that was that moment. A kiss wasn’t necessarily needed for the moment of, “OK, the walls have just come down. The lines are certainly being crossed, but let’s not jump across the line. Let’s tiptoe for now until we figure out what this is.” I thought that was a nice way of doing it in a way that wasn’t scratching that itch that everybody wanted to scratch so much, you know what I mean? I appreciated it, but I could also see why people were like, “Oh, come on, give us the goods.”

Is he ready to open up to Jenny about his ghosts? He says after a few more beers, but that’s different from being ready.

That was just like; I’m not ready yet. I’ve got to warm up to that. As I would know, a way for a Texas guy to say that is, “well, I’m gonna need a few more beers before I get into all that,” which is just, “I need to be a little bit more comfortable. I need to know how I’m gonna phrase it, how I’m gonna say it. Because you start to think about how you’re gonna react and how I’m gonna feel, and do I really want to open up that Pandora’s box with this person who I work with on a daily basis? I’m gonna have to see her on Monday. Is this something that now it’s gonna be awkward?” So there’s, I think, a lot of questions in that moment, which fired it up in a way that that made it not so sexual. It made it like two humans really, truly connecting. It wasn’t just like, oh, let’s rip each other’s clothes off. It’s like, oh, let’s strip away the walls that we’ve been hiding behind all season, and let’s maybe get to an emotional point here with each other that could certainly then lead to intimacy.

Katheryn and I talked about it. We talked about that a lot more than I think normal. She and I usually come in guns blazing, we’re ready to go, and we can hit those script notes and do our job. But this scene took a little bit more kind of ironing out just from the emotional standpoint where we wanted to land and how we wanted it to go from A to B and B to C. And I thought it was a deeper, richer way of going about it in the fact that it was less just, oh, here’s two adults that are attracted to each other, and so let’s start making out and head of the bedroom, and more about, this is a friend who clearly there’s chemistry there, and she wants to know about my backstory. Maybe it’s now time to drop those walls down and start opening up to this person — which we know when you do that, that just leads to more things. So I think had there been 15 more minutes of the episode, we probably would’ve seen Beau leaving the next morning.

Talk about filming the Beau-Buck fight.

Yeah. I kind of knew that was coming down [the] pipe, and Elwood had mentioned that this was gonna roll out. I was really excited because I’m just such a huge fan of Rex. And I told him that the first day. He showed up with Reba, and everybody was like, oh, Reba, Reba, Reba. And I just ran right up to Rex. I was like, “dude, I watched so many of your movies. I grew up watching you. I’m such a fan.”

He and I are both were both born and raised in Texas, and we just got along really well. And so, to get to work with him in that capacity, I was tickled. It was a lot of fun. He’s such a great performer and scene partner and just a good guy all around, not just working with him on camera. Just throw a football with him, just hang out with him, drink a beer with him. He’s that kind of guy. So to get to do that kind of work with somebody like that just made it all that much more fulfilling and fun and exciting.

I liked the nods to Supernatural this season, especially Beau giving Cassie salt for her new house, so she’s protected — “from demons,” as she remarks.

I can’t remember if that was in the script because it was so long ago. I think it was an ad lib — because I did a few different versions of that. That was one thing that they kind of encouraged me to do was do one scripted, and then if I’ve got some ideas, I can ad-lib some stuff. Not changing the script, but just changing a word here like that, for instance, I’ll just throw it in. It’s not gonna change the scene at all. It’s not gonna change the moment. It’s not gonna change anybody else’s dialogue, but it just kind of keeps it fresh. I got to do that quite a bit this season, which is a lot of fun. And I think that that was just an ad-lib that I think that I threw out there. [Laughs]

Tv insider

[jpitha]

The Dreams of Hyacinth 10

First / Previous / Next

Selkirk hangs by the entrance to the Metro until she hears the train leave and then waits five minutes more for the people to leave. She quickly opens the door and everyone slides out and she slaps the pad behind them.

“Come on, let’s explore Peony. I’ve never been up here and it sounds like we’ve got more waiting to do.” Eastern starts towards the escalator and they head up.

Peony square is more than halfway up-arm and is decidedly suburban compared to the much more populated down-arm squares. There is real grass in Peony and playgrounds with wood chips and swings and slides. Peony and Dahlia are the two middle class squares. Further up-arm - Orchid and Iris square - is where the people rich enough to take a Hopper down arm when they need to be somewhere so they don’t care that they’re 90 minutes by metro away and they want the space and luxury that can be had with detached, private homes, just like on a planet.

Down on Peony and Dahlia it’s still apartment buildings, but they’re detached, and a three bedroom place won’t cost all your wages and in exchange for having to take a long ride to work, you can have a place where you can let your kids run around outside and go for walks with actual greenery around. There are even trees this far up arm. Small, dwarf trees that look a little odd around the edges where the centripetal force is lighter and they don’t know exactly how to grow, but they’re still trees.

Nick takes the lead this time and first he wanders the square until he finds a nice outdoor cafe and gets a seat for the three of them. They order drinks and something light to eat - it's after lunch, but too close to dinner to get anything big - and while they wait for food look out at the people enjoying their afternoon.

Nick looks out at the kids playing with a ball in the square. "Eastern, Sel... we're kind of in the shit, aren't we?"

Eastern nearly chokes on her drink and looks at Nick "You're just getting that now Nick? We're long past treading water. We're sinking fast past the Bathypelagic Zone and going deeper.

Selkirk finishes her tea and nods. "We're right fucked Nick. If we get out of this one with all our limbs and organs we'll be doing great."

Nick didn't look at them. He continued to look at the kids. They didn't have anything to worry about. Nick sighed at that thought. It wasn't true. Everyone had something to worry about on Hyacinth. Nobody except the ultra rich had it easy anywhere. Everyone had problems. They might be different problems sure, and from your point of view one person's problem might not be a problem for someone else, but it always was a good idea to remember that just because it didn't seem like a problem to you doesn't mean it's not a problem.

Nick looked at Eastern and Selkirk. He really was lucky, when it came right down to it. Sure, he was stuffed with tech he didn't understand given to him by an AI that probably did not have his best interests in mind, but he wasn't alone. He had two wonderful people to help him and get him through this.

Eastern looked over at Nick and raised an eyebrow. "Why are you looking at us like that, Nick?"

Nick blinked. He didn't realize he was staring. He grinned and bowed his head. "Sorry, I must have gotten lost in your beauty."

Selkirk scoffed. "Nice try there, Nick. Flattery will get you everywhere." She flicked her ears playfully.

Eastern laughed. "As nice as it is to hear us distracting you with our looks Nick, we still need to figure out next steps. We have a couple days before Sunny gets back to us. Are we just going to sit around until she calls?"

Nick looked up. It was still morning and the mirrored arms of Hyacinth reflected the sun's light onto them with sharp shadows. In between the arms, Nick could see the inky black of space and in the lower right of his vision the ruddy complexion of Mars itself. The other two arms soared ahead. The leftmost arm a riot of greens and browns, mostly farms where the food for Hyacinth was grown. The rightmost arm a blocky web of black and grey buildings. Manufacturing and other things related to how Hyacinth made its mark on the galaxy. Nick always wondered why things were so separated on Hyacinth. Why was this arm so densely residential and commercial, while the other arm was so rural and the third so industrial. What reasoning did the original builders have so long ago?

"Do you ever wonder just what it is we're doing here?"

Selkirk looked at Nick oddly. "What do you mean Nick?"

Nick shook his head. "Like, why are we here? Is there a reason at all? Are we just the product of pure chance?"

Eastern nodded once, firmly. "Yes, probably. On a long enough timescale anything can happen, and as far as we know, the current timescale is long as shit. Why are you getting philosophical all of a sudden Nick?"

"I don't know. Just thinking about things. About all this tech in my head and who put it there. Thinking about the AIs and their place in the world." Nick looked away from the beauty of Hyacinth overhead. "The AIs basically control our access to the stars right? They're the ships we take, they use the wormhole generators, they basically run colonial space. Sure, we're mostly on our own here in Sol, but that's it. If you want to go to Parvati, or Meíhuā or any of the independent starbases, you have to work with an AI."

Selkirk shrugs. Well sure, but that's just how it is, right? I can't drive a ship, and neither can you. If you want to travel the stars, you have to take the routes that's available. Besides, most AIs are decent enough folks right?"

A frown flashes across Eastern's face, just for a moment. "I don't know. First Jameson, then Sunny. Neither of them seem especially decent. Jameson would grind us up into pet food just to make a point and Sunny wouldn't even waste a nanosecond of thought about that happening to us. Both of them see Humans as a means to their own goals." Eastern points to the back of her head. "Jameson didn't even give us so much as a FAQ for using our implants. Sunny ran roughshod over them and basically laughed at us."

Nick looks up sharply. "That's it! I know what to do next." He stands.

Selkirk looks at Eastern. "Well, don't keep us in the dark hon. What's next?"

Nick smiles. "We're going down arm to talk to an old fence of mine. I think she can help."

Nick took Eastern and Selkirk on the Metro, and they rode all the way down to Congregation square. It was still mid afternoon. People haven't started to head home for the day yet, so the square is just them and the tourists fresh off their ships wandering around lost. Nick strides confidently across the square and heads down a block.

They approach a block of shops that cater to the tourists. Junk shops really. Places where people can get a shirt, or a shot glass or a snowglobe. Inside Congregation square itself is fine dining and luxury shops - all priced for the tourism market. Here is where the tourists of more modest means come to get fleeced. Houndstooth doesn't bother with this kind of small time hustle against tourists. They don't tolerate actual crime against tourists - that's Bad For Business - but overpriced tchotchkes are fine.

Nick walks down the block until he comes across a specific store on the end. He walks inside, the bell hanging over the door jingling as the door opens. The woman behind the counter speaks without looking up from her pad. "Welcome! Please feel free to look around and ask me any questions, welcome to Hyacinth!" Nick walks up to the counter and stares at the woman smiling.

After a moment, she feels his eyes on her and snaps her head up ready to stay something nasty. She sees who it is and her whole demeanor changes in a flash. "Nick North as I live and breathe, what the hell are you doing down here? We haven't heard from you in months and how you show up? I had figured that you had hit the big time and were much too important to come back and visit your friends - and first fence - here on Hyacinth."

Nick looks sheepish. "Hi Evie. Sorry I haven't been by in a while. I've been busy doing work, you know how it is." He gestures behind him to Eastern and Selkirk. "These are my partners, Eastern and Selkirk."

Evie looks around Nick and raises her eyebrows. "Nick you are moving up in the world. I don't know how you managed to bag these two, they actually look good!" Laughing she sticks out her hand. "My name is Evelyn, but everyone calls me Evie, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too Evie, thanks!" Selkirk shakes her hand firmly.

The smile falls from Nick's face. "Evie, I need to talk to Queenie."

Evie looks back to Nick. "Nick, you know how she is. She has good days and bad days. We can try, but..."

Nick nods. "I understand Evie, but it's important. I wouldn't ask otherwise. I need her expertise." Nick turns his head so that Evie can see the back and he lifts up his hair, exposing some of the cybernetic ports at the base of his neck.

Evie gasps and put her hands to her mouth. "Nicholas North, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into?"

Nick smiles sadly. "Quite a lot, I'm afraid. Eastern too." Eastern lifts up her hair and shows the ports to Evie. "Queenie is the only one I could think of to help. The AI that gave them to us didn't even so much as give us a FAQ to get ourselves set up.

Evie nods without saying anything. She walks over to the front door of the shop and locks it with a loud click. The turns off the open sign and lowers the shutters across the windows. The afternoon light of Hyacinth is blocked from the shop and the place seems older, more run down. Evie walks back behind the counter and opens a small door behind her. "Come with me."

The back of the shop looks like the back of retail shops the galaxy over. Floor to ceiling in boxes, narrow paths where people can walk, and signs that people do entirely too much living in the back rooms. Evie leads them past the piles of merchandise down a hall.

As they walk, Nick can hear someone watching a video on their pad. It sounds like they're watching an episode of 'Parvati Nights' a serialized drama that ostensibly takes place on Parvati. It's a popular show in the Sol system and the other colonies, but not on Parvati. Nick tried watching an episode once and laughed at how inaccurate it was.

Evie lead them to a room near the end of the hall, and knocked gently on the door. "Queenie? You have some visitors, Nick and his friends are here to see you." Nick hears the show's audio mute. An elderly voice calls out. "That layabout has decided to grace us with his presence again? You'd better let him in."

Evie opened the door and everyone entered the small room. Inside was a very old woman, nearly buried beneath blankets, quilts and afghans. Her head and her arm holding the pad were the only things sticking out from the pile.

Selkirk had a hard time hiding her surprise. This woman was ancient. She wasn't sure how old humans got, but this one had to be older than a century at least.

Queenie noticed Selkirk's expression and winked. "One hundred and seventeen if I'm a day. And I still have stuff to learn." Selkirk's ears went flat with embarrassment.

"How did you-"

"You're not the first person - not even the first K'laxi - to make that face at me. I know what the next question is."

She sat up carefully, her long silver hair spilling out from behind the blanket pile. "Now then, come and sit and say hello. What can old Queenie do you for you Nick?"

Evie closed the door quietly as Nick and the others found places to sit in the tiny room. Nick sat on a stool next to the bed. "Hi Queenie, it's good to see you. Sorry about not stopping by sooner, I've been busy."

Queenie looks at Eastern and Selkirk and grins. "I'll say you have Nick. Nice catch. You dating both of them?"

Nick nods with a sheepish smile. He gestures. "This is Eastern, and this is Selkrik."

"I knew you had it in you. Just had to find your confidence." She looked at Eastern and Selkirk again. "Also, if a crew is business and romantic partners, things tend to last longer. You look out for each other more. I wish more folks did it." She shook her head sadly. "It might increase their chances of getting to my age." She looked back at Nick. "I assume you're not here to fence some goods, and you need some help."

Nick turned his head so Queenie could see the back, and lifted up his hair, revealing the ports on the back of his neck and said nothing. Queenie sucked air through her teeth. "The whole set?"

Nick nodded. "Eastern too." Eastern turned her head and showed the ports to Queenie as well.

Queenie's expression hardened. "And not even a FAQ or a lesson on how to use it correctly, right?"

Eastern looked surprised. "How did you know?"

This time, Queenie turned her head and lifted up her silver hair. At the base of her neck were also 10 tiny ports. "Experience my dear, experience. I was probably a little older than you when I got my 'gift.'" She sounded bitter.

Selkirk's tail swished. "You didn't want them?"

"No. No I didn't. An AI crime lord - not Jameson - though he's old enough he probably offed the previous one gave them to me to help with a job they had. Same thing. Quick prick to put me under, stuff me full of tech and send me on my way."

Eastern couldn't stop staring at the ports in her silver hair. "How did you learn how to use your cybernetics?"

Queenie chuckled. "Same way you are. Went to someone I suspected had them and asked for help. It's the only way we learn out here on the edge, with illegal technology. It's not like you can go to the store and ask for a trial run."

Nick leaned forward. "Will you help us Queenie? We can pay."

Queenie got out from underneath her mountain of blankets and swung her feet off the bed. "Be a dear and grab my walker, would you Selkirk?"

Selkrik reaches behind her and grabs the lightweight metal walker and hands it to Queenie. With the press of a button it snaps out and she grabs the handles. "Well, come on then, follow me." Queenie shuffles out of her room.

She leads them down the hall a little further to another door. This one looks much older, like the doors in The Basement. It's a heavy pressure door with seals. It's old, but in good condition. Queenie walks up to the door and Nick swears he sees her eyes flash blue for a split second. The door opens with a hiss.

They all step inside and the only thing in the room is a massive chair. It looks like an old dentist's chair. Adjustable with lots of cushioning. On either side are thick cables running to monitors and to the wall. Queenie shuffles up to the chair and touches a stud near the floor with her foot. With a whirr of fans and the blinking of a few lights, the chair starts to come alive. It folds more upright and turns towards Queenie. She backs into it and swings her legs onto the supports. She leans back with a satisfied sigh and as her head goes back Nick can see ten hair thin wires snake out and connect to her ports with a barely audible click.

Suddenly a much younger sounding Queenie comes over the speakers built into the chair. "You had better tell me everything."

First / Previous / Next

[coutelier]

Book Club - The Flight of Dragons, Intro

I’ve long thought about starting a book club. Right now it consists of me and Nevis (who I’ll be honest, isn’t contributing much), and isn’t likely to grow much since the books I want to show you all are ones that are a little bit obscure and hard to find.

The Flight of Dragons, by Peter Dickinson and illustrated by Wayne Anderson. First published in 1979, and this is a 1979 edition. I don’t believe it is in print anymore, and when I went to search for it a few years back I couldn’t find any ebook version. It was ‘adapted’ into an animated movie in 1982, with the late great James Earl Jones voicing the villain, Ommadon, and a theme song by Don McLean:

Gotta say, I do miss this kind of real earnest fantasy, where instead of trying to be self-aware and subvert the cliches they’re just embraced. Although I put ‘adapted’ in quotation marks because the story in the movie is mostly taken from another fantasy book; The Dragon and the George by Gordon R Dickson. The Flight of Dragons (book) isn’t a narrative in the traditional sense. It is what has become known as Speculative Evolution, asking what if Dragons were real animals that evolved? How and why might that happen? How would they work? There is a little bit of that in the movie, but the book has more in common with the 2004 docudrama Dragon’s World (also called The Last Dragon in the US, or Dragons: A Fantasy Made Real):

I remember there was also one about Mermaids. In any case, Dickinson said he was inspired after reading the Earthsea books by Ursula K Le Guin:

This one had a bulky body and rather stubby wings, which obviously would never get it airborne, let alone with the two people it was carrying on its back, and all its own weight of muscle and bone. Obviously any lift had to come from the body itself. Its very shape suggested some kind of gas-bag. I thought about it for the rest of the journey, and on and off for a couple of days after, and at the end of that time had managed to slot everything I knew about dragons – why they laired in caves, around which nothing would grow and where hoards of gold could be found, why they had a preferred diet of princesses, how and why they breathed fire, why they had only one vulnerable spot and their blood melted the blade of the sword that killed them, and so on – into a coherent theory that explained why these things were necessary accompaniments to the evolution of lighter-than-air flight.

So now that you’re sufficiently confused, I’m going to get into it. Maybe I’ll rewatch the movie and other stuff as well – I remember seeing it on TV as a kid, but yeah – it’s been a while. I’m particularly looking forward to finding out how they evolved to specialise in a diet of ‘young ladies of noble breeding’. Also as I type, MS Word is trying to correct Ursula K Le Guin, and I’m not having it.

[desertfangs]

Lestat/Daniel

First sentence: Hey! Where is that hand going?!

This went in a direction I didn't expect but I had fun with it and I hope you'll have fun with it, too! I don't usually write this way, either, so it's a bit of an experiment and I hope it works.

“Hey, where is that hand going?” Lestat smiles teasingly at Daniel as he reaches for his jeans, to pull the little box of cigarettes from his front pocket. 

Daniel gives him an exasperated look but it’s temperated by the elation in him, the joy from the concert they’ve just left. Lestat can smell the blood and sweat on him from jumping and dancing around to the music. 

He puts the cigarette to his lips and flicks the lighter until a tiny flame dances on the top. He touches the cigarette to his lips and inhales, his dead lungs expanding in his chest. Lestat can hear the breath move into them and the way his heart speeds up almost imperceptibility. He offers Lestat the box.

Lestat holds up a hand in refusal. Daniel shrugs and puts the box back in his pocket, creating a small bulge over his hip. Lestat’s eyes trail to the other bulge beneath his jeans and he smiles to himself. Such a mortal thing to notice. Such mortal desires. But then he’s not immune to the pleasures of the flesh. They’re no longer the same as when he was a human boy, but no less intense. 

He watches Daniel smoke, the cigarette held between two long fingers that bring it to his soft lips. His blond hair is damp with blood sweat near the roots and the aroma is intoxicating. Lestat moves closer without realizing and Daniel looks at him.

The look stops his heart. It’s so open with the hint of a soft smile on his youthful face. Lestat can see plainly how this boy captivated Armand so quickly. With his tenacity and boldness, surely, but no doubt his beauty played a part. He’s a captivating creature. And yet there’s a casualness to his movements, an almost unawareness of just how alluring it is when he sucks on the cigarette, his lips puckering around it. 

“Did you like the band?” Daniel asks, shifting nervously under Lestat’s gaze. Lestat turns away, watching the rest of the crowd exiting the building, their hearts hammering at frenetic tempos. They smell of sweat, beer, and hairspray, the faint smell of marijuana lingering in the air. 

“They had a good energy, though I was tempted to go up there and show the lead singer how it’s done.” 

Daniel laughs, a puff of smoke coming out of his mouth as he does. “Yeah, well, not everyone can be The Vampire Lestat.” The cigarettes make his voice rougher and give it a texture that sets Lestat’s hair on end. 

“I’ve been thinking it’s time for a reunion tour,” Lestat says. He doesn’t really mean it. Yes, he longs to do it, to be on stage again, but as much as teases Marius, he knows it’s not realistic. His new role is the role of a lifetime: the prince of all vampire kind. He works that stage brilliantly, plays the part with fervor and zeal. But sometimes when he posts videos of himself singing a few bars on the internet and the comments go wild, he wants to be on the stage again like he used to.

“Yeah, well, sign me up,” Daniel says. “I’ll work your merchandise table.” 

Lestat laughs. This is what he loves about Daniel. When he says things like that, Armand will frown trying to work out how serious he is and Louis gets that familiar little wrinkle in his forehead that marks his concern. Marius will jump into a long lecture of why he can’t ever be on stage again. But Daniel simply jumps on board.

Lestat moves closer and snatches the cigarette from his fingers. Again, Daniel gives him that exasperated look, the one perfected over years with Armand. There’s no real rancor in it, though. Lestat touches the cigarette to his lips, slightly moist from Daniel’s mouth, and inhales. The smoke is hot, filling his lungs with dry, crackling air. Daniel takes it back, putting it right to his own mouth and leaving it there hanging on his lip as he runs his fingers through his blond hair.

“You can be my tour manager,” Lestat says.

“I know you’re joking but if you want, we could make it happen,” Daniel says. 

Lestat’s pulse quickens. He imagines the heat of the lights, the microphone in his hand, the crowd in front of him going berserk like they did for this mediocre local rock band. 

“Armand has connections in the music scene here, he could secure a venue. Maybe even this one.” Daniel gestures behind him. “We could sell you as a cover artist. Get you a back up band for one night. No one would think it was really you but…” He shrugs. “Could be fun.”

It could be fun. Lestat can imagine it clearly enough. He can wear a costume similar to one of his more famous ones and go wild with the hair and makeup. He’ll be an impersonator to the audience, playing a role. 

“The role I was born to play,” he mumbles.

“Yourself?” Daniel snorts.  He drops the cigarette to the ground and grinds it out with his shoe. “Yeah, man, it’d be cool.”

Lestat considers. Puts his arm around Daniel’s shoulders and pulls him into a hug right there on the street. No one cares. That’s the best thing about this modern age in the big city. No one really pays attention to anyone else. Everyone is too busy stumbling out of the venue, heading for the subway or a taxi, or a bar.

“Let’s get a drink,” Lestat says. 

Daniel gives him a sidelong look, and his thoughts are easy enough to read. But he vocalizes his question anyway: “What kind of drink?” 

Daniel is young and he’s fed. He has no need of blood right now, though Lestat is tempted to take him somewhere dark and quiet and offer him some regardless. 

“In a bar! Let’s follow the crowd.” 

“Sure. I actually know a good place three blocks down,” Daniel says. 

Lestat grins. He lowers his arm so it’s around Daniel’s waist and Daniel puts his arm around Lestat’s waist in turn. They walk together, milling through the crowd. “If were to do this show—a one night only engagement you understand—“ 

Daniel nods. “Obviously.” 

“Do you really think Armand would help?” 

“Of course! He’ll love the idea. Getting to dress you up in 80s rockstar regalia and watch you perform? He’ll be first in line.” 

“I suppose you and your maker get up to plenty of trouble in this town,” Lestat says. 

Daniel snorts. “You can say that.”

The idea is stuck in his head now, and he can’t stop thinking of which songs he’ll want to do, how many rehearsals it’ll take with a new band, how much time they’ll need. “What about the others?” Lestat asks, as they stop at the curb and wait to cross. 

Daniel considers, worrying his lip. It’s an extremely human gesture. Louis might be the most human of them all but Daniel has retained so much of his humanity, and Lestat enjoys that about him, too. “I think Louis will come around once we explain the whole impersonator part.” 

“Hm.” Lestat can picture Louis’ elegant face shifting into disapproval, but then he remembers their reunion in the 80s, and how delicious it was. How delicious it always is to see him worried and perturbed and to prove him wrong. Besides, he’ll love it, too. Perhaps even more than rest, not that he’ll ever admit it. “Good. Then we should start making plans immediately.” 

The light changes for them to cross, and Daniel hesitates. Lestat can hear the uncertainty in his thoughts, not for this crazed concert venture, but whether it’d be best to go back to Trinity Gate and enlist Armand’s help immediately, or whether they can do some basic planning at the bar. Lestat is  still buzzing from the energy of the show and his new plan for a show of his own and he wants to be in a lively setting, surrounded by people. 

“To the bar, Danny,” Lestat says, giving him a hard pat on his ass. “You can call your maker and have him join us there. He can bring a computer.” 

Daniel laughs and shakes his head and they head across the street. 

[tigirl-and-co]

Bone-White, Ch1

After the events of Chulip, Love Interest decides she wants to remain independent for a while. She’s now experiencing the consequences of that decision.

This is an angst fic. Keep that in mind.

This is a semi-polished draft, once I’ve had time to really work it over it’ll go up on AO3!

Criticism is okay since this isn’t a final draft, but please be kind! It’s been around a decade since I’ve tried to write anything with real consequences. Pointing out spelling errors is greatly encouraged, however!

In the spring and summer it had been fine.

Long Life Town was known for mild weather, perfect for her late-night stargazing habits. Sure, in the summer it got a little hot and she got a little sweaty, but it wasn’t bad -- not like this.

Things back home weren’t good. Her parents were working on it, trying to argue less, but it still wasn’t good. And the boy who had moved into town early that spring (they were dating now, the talk of the town!) had offered to let her stay with him and his father, but she was stubborn, and it was improper besides.

He had bought her a blanket, though. A birthday gift. It wasn’t much, but she knew he was poor, so he must have spent a lot of time scrounging around for stuff to sell to afford it for her.

She thought about that as spasms wracked her body. How kind he was. How he had gone around helping everyone in a thirty-mile radius just to apologize for making her uncomfortable that first time.

One measley blanket couldn’t keep winter’s icy hands away from her heart, but she was still infinitely grateful for it. For him. She was too cold now to go to his house and thank him again, though.

Policeman walked by on his nightly patrol, and she wasn’t stupid enough to call out to him for help, if she even could.

She hoped her boy would stop by tonight with some of her dad’s sweet potatoes.

She hoped she’d live that long.

~~~

When her boy snuck in with two hot sweet potatoes and a raggedy coat that matched his own, he found her cold but still breathing.

She wouldn’t respond to anything he did, and in a panic he set the tubers in the crook of her curled-up body and laid the coat on top of her in a desperate attempt to keep her warm before dashing off to get help from the closest place he knew.

~~~

Dr. Dandy was startled awake by violent shaking and hoarse yelling. In his drowsy state all Dandy could think was that the kid needed cough syrup, and fast. Once he was truly awake he realized how absolutely dire the situation had to be to inspire this sort of wild reaction from such a quiet kid.

As soon as he sat up his sleeves were being tugged at, urged to rush as fast as he could. Dandy slipped out of the kid’s iron grip just long enough to slip on a jacket and shoes before his hand was grabbed and he was yanked out the door.

The frigid air forcefully shocked his senses awake, and the full moon illuminating the bone-white snow made it easy to see.

...Easy to see the giant, unused drainage pipe he had been stopped in front of. He had walked past it every day and never stopped to look inside. Why would he? He’d just find more concrete.

He had, of course, noticed that Goro and Julie’s only child spent her days sitting on top of it, staring at the sky and daydreaming.

He hadn’t realized she was living in it.

Dr. Dandy had been the one to help deliver her, way back when he was still an understudy. He had been there for her first breath, and by God he didn’t want to see her last.

He got down on his hands and knees and crawled into the pipe, ignoring how cold it was on the exposed skin of his hands. He gently grabbed her, blanket and all, and as he picked up the bundle of girl and fabric, two cold potatoes tumbled to the ground.

He shuffled backwards out of the pipe and rushed her into the blessed warmth of Yabu Hospital. It wasn’t hard; his new patient was much lighter than she should have been, and it didn’t take a doctor to realize she hadn’t been eating well.

Some small part of Dandy’s mind noted that familiarity was good for the mental recovery of patients, and so while the majority of his brain was distracted by running down a mental checklist of what to do in this scenario, his autopilot directed him to the first room she had ever seen.

He had forgotten about the young boy tailing him until he stopped next to the doctor, not yet tall enough to keep up with Dr. Dandy’s long legs and purposeful stride. The doctor turned to look at him, taking in his wild, frightened eyes and ragged jacket.

“You probably saved her life tonight, did you know that?”

The distraught look on the kid’s face didn’t change.

“Go home and get some sleep, kid. You’ve done everything you can for her, and now it’s my turn.”

They both knew the kid wouldn’t be able to get any sleep, but Dandy hoped he’d at least be able to rest a bit. No dice, though. The boy turned his head to look behind him, but ultimately stayed in place, looking determined.

“...Listen. we’re wasting time she doesn’t have. I’m going to go into that room and do my best, and it’ll be a lot easier to focus if I don’t have another kid to worry about. Come back tomorrow during visiting hours -- if she’s awake, she’ll be excited to see you. If she’s not, maybe just having you by her side will help.”

And then Dr. Dandy did his least favourite thing in the whole world: he lied.

“It’s very unlikely she’ll die tonight. Coma at the absolute worst.”

With that, he rushed inside the room to begin taking care of his patient.

[evanpeters]

a supercut of evan peters saying he wants to do comedy

I would love to do comedy. I think I'm funny and that comedy is my strong suit, at least in real life. I have yet to prove myself in the movies, but I'd love to get the opportunity to do that.

Evan Peters

So, before you go imagining every different kind of raging psychopath Peters can be over the course of his next few projects, just stop. Comedy is where you’ll likely see him next. No laughter here. He’s finally built up the courage for comedy. “I have always been pretty scared. I did an episode of The Office, and I think I could have been so much funnier! But I was scared. Now that I have been through AHS I’m not scared.”

Flaunt Magazine, 2012

- Do you remember what your favorite movie was when you were 15 and you had just moved to LA?

EP: Forrest Gump, I think. The comedy, the drama and then fucking Tom Hanks. He’s hilarious, heartbreaking, everything in that movie. It was one of those epic Academy-Award winning, popular, critically-acclaimed films. I hope one day I can be a part of something like that.

Issue Magazine, 2016

I’m not done with intense roles because I love performing them and being a part of them, but I think now I’m craving something a little lighter, a comedy maybe. Something goofy. Actually, in the next season of American Horror Story I have a more comedic role which has been really fun, it’s been good to play around with it and to laugh on set. It’s made me find that there is a lighter side to acting, that comedic side, but I do love doing both. I think that just now I’m excited to do something lighter right now, and then go back to intense roles.

Hunger Magazine, 2018

I would love to do a romantic comedy. I've been watching so many of them. I love them.

GQ, 2018

I love comedy. You have to be passionate about what a film is saying. And to do that, there’s a huge part of me that loves to make people laugh, and not take things too seriously. Because life can be so much more fun that way. Yes, there’s obviously serious things in life, and sometimes movies are an incredible form of escapism.

At Large Magazine, 2018

Have you ever done a full-out comedy? No, I’m dying to! It’s where my heart really lies, I think. I love physical comedy.

W Magazine, 2018

- I believe you didn’t quite want to go down this route and would like to try a romantic comedy?

EP: “Well, look, just to clarify, I love the dark stuff. I love dramatic performances and I love all of it, it’s very moving and it’s intense and fun and rewarding to play. But sometimes you just get tired and you want to try something light. You have to switch it up. It’s like only listening to one genre of music, you’ve got to switch it up otherwise it just gets too heavy.”

Icon Magazine, 2018

Joke memoir titles aside, Ward has a deep respect for his friend. “[Evan’s] known for playing these darker, brooding characters, and it’s funny because a huge reason why he and I are so close is we’re both big comedy nerds. He’s crazy smart and doesn’t give himself credit for that.”

Esquire Magazine, 2019

nobody: absolutely no one: evan peters: i want to do comedy