#I'm back a little bit c:

[vaguely-concerned]

I feel that during the first coffee date walk through the market, rye has a fraction of a millisecond's kneejerk trauma freakout of '...wait. wait. am I really catching feelings for a rich boy again. with how that went down last time. am I truly that stupid' (once derogatorily referred to quite openly at a party as 'young master anaxas' pet mortalitasi' to which the young master anaxas only grinned and shrugged and STILL you don't break up with his smug controlling ass for good for six more months because you have a desperate bottomless yearning pit where your self respect should go, twice shy lol). and then he actually looks at lucanis standing next to him getting harding spearmint to help with bad dreams and generally being so quietly thoughtful and sweet through the prosaic yet necessary medium of grocery shopping it makes me feel a little unwell to truly contemplate. and rye is like '*the softest fondest eyes anyone has ever turned on anything* ...you know what. I suspect we don't have to worry about that repeating, I think we're probably safe. I am comfortable being this level of stupid. (slowly dawning marital intent even at this stage)'.

(part of the reason rye buys NONE of illario's bullshit at all right from the beginning is that he's basically vaccinated against this exact type of dude after that relationship lol. charming suave guy who in the beginning pays you a lot of lavish attention and takes pains to make you feel special every time you're in a room with him -- but shallowly and mostly, it slowly dawns on you, when there's something he wants from you (and he's often doing it at the expense of someone else, raising you up to put someone else down and you won't believe this... it can turn into a seesaw at a whim. yay). and beneath that there's just a seething pit of resentment and inferiority complexes and bitterness left to fester until he can make it everyone else's problem and that IS going to start to bubble up between the cracks with you too if you stick around for long enough. no thank you been there done that wasted my youth and potential on it and all I got was this lousy shiny set of new emotional intimacy issues haunting me for life! trust me illario I HAVE, as it were, chosen the wrong dellamorte before, which is exactly how I know I didn't this time. go get him lucanis I've got your coffee

hilarious mental image: rye and illario sitting quietly together while everyone else is busy milling about during a cursed dellamorte family dinner (the vibes are so bad. you know the vibes are bad. sitting as still as you can and hoping for calm skies is your best bet without lucanis or teia favourite child privileges to work with) and rye out of the blue gazing thoughtfully into nothing over the edge of his glass with half-lidded eyes to go 'you know. you remind me a lot of my ex. not in a good way' and illario with absolutely no shame and hilariously also something that's the closest he ever gets to real sympathy going 'yeah, I get that a lot'. best talk those two ever had, unironically. their bond leveled up to its final form that day. *soulsborne boss defeated text* MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING REACHED)

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

i think the diamond dogs should play improv games just bc it would amuse me, an ex theater kid, specifically

[brick-van-dyke]

My dad, jokingly: "I'm badman"

Me: "haha sure" (not thinking he's anything like batman)

My dad: *left/ separated from my mum when I was a teen, started a GTA gang that helps bullied kids, ended up emotionally adopting like 8 kids and helped them through bullying, suicide, abuse, etc.*

Me: *was hurt by an abuser and had to deal with said abuser being forgiven by family around me*

Me: *gets into Batman lore*

Me: ...

"Wait a second..."

[feral-ferengi]

I can't get enough of these screencaps..they are like Oreos

"Come, smol toad. Lesgo somewhere private."

Tog with darker lips looks so very goth 🥵🖤

[leatherbookmark]

"I know why you want to return to our world, Meggie! You just miss your boyfriend! But we haven't seen everything of this beautiful world yet!" Mr Mortimer sir your wife was enslaved for working as a scribe disguised as a man. In this world women are punished for learning their fathers' craft and your thirteen years old daughter would be already married if she was born in this world. I know the books are very pretty but Mo your wife is pregnant. I don't think they have c-sections here :(

[unproduciblesmackdown]

speaking of bsol through speaking of xmas xtrav that like i'm so augh god hand over heart falling over (just like the bloodsong b/c it's the like conclusion of being Overwhelmed By Artistic Effect that then in the ideal version you may as well die) at the thought of the finale where you have the main plot conclude as that Story w/those Themes like ah but even then, the influence, the other the musicians now, that this whole time like yeah you have to do it even if you just keep building or die or were thwarted even prior to that b/c you didn't know you wouldn't be....but that then just like in the opening song Outlaw or sort of distillation of the theme abt being someone making art Last On Land or that at other points other characters have emerged as not really their characters not really a greek chorus but elements of the story helping to Tell It, here's Everyone again for the friendship song altogether & each with an instrument & like not even able to see it but pics & imagining & the enthusiasm & the Thematic Resonance like this is when you are pursuing these pursuits together like _o__ (splayed out facedown emoji) aaauuughhh ;;mm;; bsol finale with everyone showing up playing & singing & dancing the song celebratory finale it's all the Theme when the full cast of Characters had only ever all been together for the one standoff scene at the end & yet obviously We've known them all & everyone is outlaws which is a song like i'm already going sicko mode & this is just the intro, so yknow, The Conclusion, good lord find an iconis musical finale without that place for the celebratory outpouring of enthusiasm right amidst other feelings & situations but Good Lord Here's This in a story that'll always have been all about people's depths & heights & widths & breadths & variations & tumult & all the dimensions, people will have Brought It all over the place & it's like yes leap around together playing & singing this song together which isn't The Story but is such an extension of it b/c bsol has its show within the show quality still infused all in it & if this flurry of Actors Celebrating Outpouring We Put On This Show but still within the show you are seeing as an audience in this venue wouldn't have been part of the original plan with a whole [outside the show within the show] plotline like. embraces bsol holding it so hard my becherished

[r0semultiverse]

Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake finale spoilers without context

[exlimix1a]

I'm not sure if it's too early to mention it...but have any of you heard of Sheezy?

(Not the early 2000s site, but the revival project from 2020-2022)

[hopefulqueer]

if Bean doesnt eat something soon i think i am going to lose it

[lord-squiggletits]

The hard thing about liking Getaway as a character is that people are like "why are you mad people hate him, he's literally evil in the text" and it's like. Yeah I get that and I ENJOYED the way he was shown in MTMTE, the problem is that in LL his character got hit with villain degradation/idiot ball and so my beef with his portrayal is that I think it's shitty and underwhelming writing.

But like, it's really hard to debate about that because canon is the basis of the entire analysis, and if your contention of canon is basically "he would not fucking say/do that" then that means a near-complete rejection of canon in favor of headcanon and you can't really "debate" personal opinions in that way.

Anyways, LL Getaway sucked and the most charitable interpretation one could have of how he was written is that he was a victim of JRO needing to wrap up a billion plotlines at once and getting shafted because the mutiny plotline had to resolve really fast. Which is a flaw of LL and a bunch of its characters/plots in general, not me being an "apologist."

[langernameohnebedeutung]

Tanner 💔

[vaguely-concerned]

just realized all over again that harding and rye never got to talk about varric. when he got out of fade jail she was gone. she's never coming back. they never got to talk about it. they will never get to talk about it. they spent all that time together, they became so close, and still they never got to meet in a world where they could both talk about it and now they never will because she's gone too. she'll never know he felt it just as deeply as she did, that she wasn't alone in it. millions dead thousands wounded in my heart and brain right now it's just a bloodbath in here

[valenfield-inspo]

Block Warning

I don't mind ppl blocking this blog, as that is your right on here to curate your experiences but if I find you still managing to reblog my edits, you are getting blocked right on back. I am not up for weird shit this early in 2024.

I just find it unfair as hell as I actually wanted to reblog some of their stuff from before. I really only found out I was blocked b/c months ago I wanted to reblog one of their edits on here but it would not let me reblog it, not even draft it. I tried reblogging their stuff on my main and it let me reblog as normal yet on this blog it wouldn't let me. So I am taking that as a sign that they indeed blocked this blog. Now fast forward some to a few days ago, I found them reblogging an edit of mine and yet I still can't reblog from them, so that's not going to work for me. You cannot reblog stuff from me and then still proceed to have me blocked, nope. Can't have your cake and eat it too, I'm afraid.

[lookninjas]

Not that long ago, I made a comment about how I would finish a fic someday, and it looks like someday's already here! This is, granted, a rough first draft, and I did technically already get one of those done this year, but I'm not posting that one. I'm posting this one. For a few different reasons, actually, but mostly it just makes sense.

Anyway, this is a follow-up to Humdrum and Humble. If you've read that, this is Jonah giving Tish her funeral, with an expected/unexpected guest at his side. If you haven't read that one but want to read this one -- two aging time-travelers with a complicated history hold a funeral on a remote planet. That's really all you need to know.

It’s a beautiful landscape, anyway, all pinks and oranges and deep mauve in the distance.  He sits and watches the twin suns sink nearer the horizon, the little silver box clasped in his hands, and he listens to the sound of footsteps crunching closer, and he admires the landscape in a distant sort of way, and he tries to think of what he’s going to say when Tel finally gets to him.

As usual with Tel, he needn’t have bothered.  “Alright, Yon?” Tel asks, sinking down on the rocky outcrop next to him.

“Alright, Tel.”  That was always the good thing about Tel; it was always easy, because Tel always made it easy.  Even when they’d first met, when Tel was a sharp, scrawny, feral scrap of a thing.  He’d say “Alright?” and Jonah would say “Alright,” and it was just easy, the two of them.  Even from the start.

It’s Tel’s turn now to stare out obligingly into the middle distance, so Jonah can study him, clock the changes.  He’s not scrawny anymore, nor sharp.  He’s not even really that feral.  Time’s filled him out, softened his edges.  Domesticated him some.  Jonah’s been keeping tabs on Tel since they parted ways, but it’s different seeing it in person.  

But when Tel turns to give him that little half smile, his green eyes are as lovely as they ever were.  “Here,” he says, and holds out a tall green flask.  “It’s not tea, but I’ve gotten a bit of a taste for it over the years.  And it’s supposed to be restorative, so there you are.”  

“Do I really look that bad?” Jonah asks, and Tel scoffs.

“You know damn well you’re still gorgeous,” he says.  “You and those cheekbones.  Go on, take it.  I’ll watch her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  He nods at the silver box in Jonah’s hands and Jonah realizes he hadn’t worried about Tish at all.

Well, and he trusted Tel with his whole family once upon a time.  More than his family – his people.  A whole community in Tel’s hands, and he managed it brilliantly.  He can handle what’s left of Tish.  

And if that’s not really what Jonah’s handing over…  Well.

He trades the little silver box for the tall green flask, unscrews the lid of it, and takes a swallow.

It’s slightly warm, but not very.  That thin taste of synthetic milk, barely a step above water.  Toasted rice, because they put it in everything on the ship.  A little sweet, but not very much.  A hint of some kind of spice, but not enough to put a name on it.  The taste of deep space, of endless dark, of months to go before the next station.  

His mother’s voice, singing soft in their bunkroom.  His grandfather pulling a brush through his grandmother’s hair.  His grandmother pulling the covers up over him.  Family, even in the worst of times.  Home.  

He blinks away a few stray tears and takes another, more cautious, sip.

“Good?” Tel asks, like he hadn’t noticed a thing.  

Jonah clears his throat.  “Yeah,” he says, a little hoarse yet.  “Yeah.  It’s good.”

Tel nods.  “Wife says I make it better than she does,” he says, a little proud.  “Caused her some annoyance at first.  Of course, now she appreciates the convenience.  Warm milk whenever she needs it, and always to her liking.  Sometimes I think that’s her favorite thing about me.”

Jonah doubts that, but that’s also not his most pressing concern right now.  “Who’d you marry, then?” he asks.  

“Oh, Lehyla,” Tel says.  “Lehyla Osis, if you remember her.  She remembers you, a bit.  I didn’t,  you know, marry any of your cousins, if that’s what you’re worried about.  Nothing against your cousins, understand, but.”

He remembers Lehyla, a little.  Not terribly much.  For as small as the ship was, it feels he ought to have known her better.  But then no one knew him that much, either.  “Might be a bit weird, is all.”

“No, exactly,” Tel says.  “And then, obviously, I didn’t fall in love with one of your cousins, either.  But I dealt with Lehyla quite a bit, you know, when we were getting your people settled, and she was brilliant, and just –”  He turns his attention back to the landscape.  Fidgets a bit.  “And it was a bit awkward, but it was worth it.  And has been ever since.”

It could be the reddish glow of the lowering suns, but Jonah would swear Tel is blushing.  “And she taught you to make proper warm milk.”

“No, her aunt did,” Tel says, and laughs.  “Which was the worst bit, really, because we both learned from the same woman, so you’d think it’d be the same.  But she oversugars hers.  Not much, but enough to change the taste.”

“Easy enough to do, I guess,” Jonah says.  Which it would be, now.  With sugar just a transport ship away, enough to go around for everyone.  Easy to use too much, when you have enough.

“Apparently some of the younger folks are putting honey in theirs now,” Tel continues.  “Seeing as we have so much of it.  Supposed to be better for you, but it’s not the same.  Next you know, they’ll be putting real milk in.”

Jonah pulls a face at that.  “It’s too rich, though.  Bad for your stomach.”  

“No, I agree,” Tel says.  “But we’ve got goats and some cattle now, and if you’ve got a dairy cow and you keep bees – It’s what happens, planetside.  A hundred years from now, it’ll all be different.”  He pauses for a moment, goes back to staring into that middle distance.  “If it holds safe, of course.  If it holds peaceful.”

Jonah considers it.  Then, because he already knows the answer, he goes ahead and asks the question. “Do you want to know?  Where they are, in a hundred years?”

Tel laughs, a short sharp bark.  “No,” he says, immediately.  “No.  Not on your life.  Some things – Some things I think you have to let happen without you.  And if I knew, even if it was good, and not bad.  I just don’t think I’d ever be able to let go, you know?”

“Yeah,” Jonah says, and takes another drink of his warm milk.  “Yeah.  I know.”  

They’re quiet for a long time.  The twin red suns sink further into the horizon.  The distant cliffs catch fire.  No wonder even Tish was captured by this place.  It really is something else again.

“The thing is,” Tel says, finally.  “I sort of thought I’d be here to talk you into giving it up, you know?  But you’ve made your mind up, pretty much.”

Pretty much.  “It’s been a year,” Jonah says, acutely aware of how strange that is.  “More than, actually.  I have a house.  I have a garden, and I have my basement set up so I can grow tomatoes all year, because the winters are cold there.  Where I live.  I…  I know where I like to go running when the weather is fine.  I know where I like to go running when the weather is miserable and I need to be as close to home as possible so I can dry off quick.  I go to synagogue sometimes.  People recognize me there.  The girl…  When I go to get a cup of coffee, one of the girls that works there, if she sees me, she starts making my drink before I’ve even reached the counter.  It’s exactly what I hoped having a home would look like.  It’s more than that, actually.  

“And I’m still at pretty much,” he finishes.  “I’m still…  I shouldn’t still need to be deciding this.  Should I?  I mean – Look, as awful as it is to admit it, this whole thing with Tish –”  He gestures at the little silver box in Tel’s big hands.  “It really was the first time all year I felt remotely like I knew what I was doing.  You know, it felt right.  And then everything else just…  It’s been a whole year, Tel.”

Tel looks at him with the kindest eyes, and he looks at him like Jonah is the biggest idiot he’s ever met.  “You were a Time Agent for nearly forty years, Yon,” he says.  “Forty years!  Of course being a civilian is hard compared to that.  You’re barely started at it.  Also, please don’t tell me that this –” He holds up the silver box, shakes it slightly – “Is the first time someone’s tried to kill you this whole year.  The whole year?”

“I –”  All Jonah can think of to defend himself is, “It wasn’t on purpose!”  Which feels a little weak, if he’s being honest.  “No, I had – It’s not on a space-time rift exactly, but it’s definitely something of an interdimensional weak spot, you know.”  

“A soft place,” Tel suggests.

“Exactly.  And they have a team there that takes care of the worst of it, but they’re short-handed, of course, like you always are –”

“No, exactly.”

“And I’ve worked with them a few times and got on all right, you know, it was friendly, and I thought – I did think about that, that I’d need to keep some kind of a hand in so I didn’t go mad with boredom or anything.  Just –”  He breaks away from looking at Tel then, stares out at the red and purple landscape, tries to put the feeling into words.  

“You know, it was always a bit different for me,” he says.  “What I did with the Time Agency.  I wasn’t ingratiating myself with the locals trying to set up an assassination or anything.  I very rarely had a partner, and it always ended badly when they tried giving me one.  So it was pretty much just me, all the time.  For a long time.  I suppose I just didn’t know where to start if there wasn’t a good reason for them to already need me.  Then Tish came along and solved that problem for me.  Gave me a bunch of others, of course, but.”

They’re quiet together again, for a little while.  Tel shifts – when Jonah looks over at him, he sees that the silver box has been moved to Tel’s right hand, that his left hand is outstretched, waiting.  So he reaches out, feels Tel’s hand wrap around his, warm and dry.  

“I’m sorry,” Tel says, quiet.  

Jonah’s eyes sting at the words.  When he says, “Not your fault,” it’s only a little choked, though.

“Never said it was,” Tel retorts.  “I’m still sorry, Yon.  It’s a long time to be that lonely.”

His eyes sting more.  He swallows hard.  “I was always solitary, though,” he says.  “Ask Lehyla if you don’t believe me.  It –”  

Tel squeezes his hand, and he stops, takes a deep breath.  “It was worse, though,” he admits, finally.  “Those first few months, to be that close and yet completely incapable of taking that final step.  It was…  It was bad, yeah.  I think worse than it had ever been, actually.  Those first few months.”

Tel nods.  He rubs his thumb along the back of Jonah’s hand.  “Is it getting any better?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Jonah says, because it is.  “And no.  Obviously, with Tish and all, I did get involved.  Didn’t much have a choice about it.  And that went well, you know.  I work well with their team, which I already knew, and they like having me around, and they’re happy to hear I’m staying.  And it’s…  It’s been a bit social with them, as well.  Drinks a few times.  There’s a local tradition they have – the Hallowe’en, they call it.  And they put on costumes and go door to door collecting sweets, and I got invited out to that, and it was good.  It was different, but good.”  

Surrounded by small children, Toby’s kid at his shoulder at each doorway, explaining it so casually.  Oh, they don’t have trick or treating where he’s from.  I wanted him to see what it was like.  And they’d look past Max and Jonah to where Toby stood, and they understood.  

Well.  I hope you’re enjoying yourself, they’d say, and he’d say

Very much, thank you, and he meant it, more or less.  Because Toby was enjoying it, and Max was enjoying it, and that was enough in the moment.

It was after, as always, that the doubt crept in.

“And I don’t –  Look, I’m aware of my place in the universe,” he says, turning to Tel, who is still watching him with those ridiculously pretty eyes.  “I know for all I’ve done, and as many enemies as I’ve made, I’m not the most dangerous thing anyone in that city has seen or will see.  There isn’t anything I bring with me that they won’t already have had to deal with.  Even the people at synagogue.  Even the girl at the coffee shop.  It’s how it is, those places.  But no one survives everything, Tel.  Not even Tish.”

Tel holds up the little silver box, contemplates it for a moment.  “You’re worried this isn’t the first funeral you’ll get to hold for someone you did your damndest to save.”

“I mean, it already isn’t,” Jonah says, and Tel smiles a bit, shakes his head.  “If I’m being honest, it’s not even the first time this year.”  That kid they’d lost at Pride, burning from the inside out right there on the grass because he took a pill he shouldn’t have and his friends didn’t know what to do after and Torchwood tried to get there in time and they just couldn’t.  

Tel’s hand tightens around his again.  “I’m so sorry, Yon.”

“I didn’t know that boy very well,” Jonah admits.  “He was dying when I got to him.  Sontaran Sunlight – his friends gave him water, because they didn’t know.  It wasn’t great odds, and I knew it from the start.  And again, mostly a stranger to me.  But the longer I’m there, the more people I know…”  He swallows hard.

“I’m afraid, Tel,” he says, finally.  “I’m afraid of what I’ll do the first time it really hurts.  I’m afraid –”

“You’re afraid you’ll run,” Tel finishes.  “Rather than see it through.”

And that’s the heart of it.  He doesn’t want to run.  He has, in fact, more to stay for than he’d dared to let himself hope.  But the thought that he will –

“You won’t, though,” Tel says, matter-of-factly.

“You think?”Jonah asks.

“I know.”  Tel shrugs.  “I know because you’re here right now, Yon.  Even though it hurts – and I don’t care how many times she tried to kill you, Yon, I know damn well how much you hate it ending here.  But you are here, with her, to the very end.  Just like you were with that boy, even though you didn’t know him.  Just like you always are.”

He has a point.  Jonah pushes back anyway, because it’s Tel and he can.  “Not always,” he says.

“Fine,” Tel says, without conceding anything.  “Just like you always are, except for the times when the Time Agency would be exceptionally interested in your presence at the funeral, particularly if I’d happened to be there at the same time.  Considering you were supposed to have killed me, and I was supposed to die, and neither of us were supposed to interfere in the matter of your family or your people as a whole.  Is that more accurate, Yon?”

It’s the precision that makes it cut so deep, and it’s the depth of the wound that makes him almost want to laugh it off.  “Maybe,” he says, and shakes his head.  “Maybe.”  

He sighs, stares out into the sunset.  “Were they that interested?” he asks.  “The Time Agency, I mean.  Would they have even –”

“Six agents at your grandfather’s funeral,” Tel says.  “At least.  That’s the ones my people spotted, anyway.  Six at your grandfather’s.  Five at your grandmother’s.  Two at your mum’s, which is weird, since the Agency no longer existed by then and therefore shouldn’t have been looking for either of us.  But there they were, anyway.  And again, those are the ones that weren’t smart enough to hide.  I imagine there were a few more that were.  We did what we had to, Yon.  We weren’t hiding from their funerals for fun.”

“Maybe,” is all he can think of to say, even though he knows Tel is right.  There’s a reason he’s never visited Tel, never gone to the settlement himself, never seen their homes, their new lives.  Never seen his grandfather’s garden.  This is the bargain he made to get them off the ship in the first place.  

“And I hate to say it,” Tel continues.  “But if I were to die before you –”

“Who said you were dying at all?” Jonah responds, instinctively, and Tel actually smiles at that, really smiles so that all the creases in his face show.  “I stopped you dying once.  I’ll do it again.”

“I’m not planning on it.”  The smile lingers a bit longer, starts to fade.  “I’ve got grandkids now, you know.  I’ve got –  I’ve got a great deal to look forward to.  I might even get out of politics finally, after four damn decades of trying.  But I also know that I’ve been lucky.  And I know that luck runs out.”  He sighs.  “And I know you’ll do what’s best without me needing to tell you, but…”

“But you’ve been taking care of them for too long, and you don’t know how to stop,” Jonah finishes.  

Tel just nods; Jonah squeezes his hand.

“So this,” Jonah says, his eyes starting to sting again.  The sun is beginning to set.  It’s time.  “Me and you, right now.  Probably too risky to do it again, yeah?”

“Well.”  Tel shrugs.  “It’s a bit risky, sure.  But you know.  You and me.  We lead risky lives, don’t we?”

“Yeah,” Jonah says, and blinks a tear or two out.  “Yeah, suppose we do.”

“I think something like this, maybe,” Tel continues.  “Neutral place, not too many prying eyes.  Could probably get away with that.  Even me visiting yours, maybe.  Since there’s rules about interfering too much on early 21st century Earth and all.”

Of course Tel’s known where he was all along.  Of course he has.  “And there’s not rules about the Chancellor of Aestii IV traveling through time and space whenever he has a fancy to?” he asks, because Tel’s not the only one who can know things.

“Not so many as you’d think, no,” Tel says.  Only a little smug about it.  “‘Course they haven’t caught me at it yet.  I imagine that’ll get changed if they ever do.”

If.  Jonah shakes his head.  “And I don’t want to know how many times you’ve done this,” he says.  “Or how exactly you’re doing it in the first place, since I took your vortex manipulator myself.”

“I do a lot of favors for a lot of people,” Tel says.  Which half of the question that’s meant to be an answer to goes unsaid.  Probably both.  “Also, not to rush you or anything, but those suns are beginning to set.”

He lets of Jonah’s hand then, holds out the little silver box.  It’s exactly what Jonah came for, but in the moment, he hesitates.

“Out of curiosity,” Tel says, when the moment’s stretched on too long.  “Why here, exactly?  Why not just keep her on your mantel or something?  Find her a pretty place on Earth?”

“No, Tish hated Earth,” Jonah says.  “Absolutely despised it.  She despised most places, actually.  At least according to her.  This is the only place she ever had a kind word for.  Said the sunset were particularly lovely.  Which she wasn’t wrong about.”

They contemplate the colors of the sunset in silence for a few seconds.  Then Jonah finally reaches out and takes the silver box from Tel’s hand.  He opens it, pulls out the little plastic sack of Tish’s ashes, gives the box back.

He stands, takes a few careful steps towards the cliff’s edge.

“All right, Tish,” he says, finally.  “I’ll stop bothering you now.  Good luck out there.”  And he untwists the plastic bag, opens it, and lets her ashes fall over the side of the mountain.  A light breeze comes up, sweeps the dust of her away.

And that’s it.  Funny, how fast it ends.  

“Well.”  Tel’s hand closes around his again, tugs him back from the edge of the mountain.  “Suppose we’d better start heading down again before it gets too dark.  Old eyes don’t see as well as they once did.”

Tel hates heights.  Jonah’d forgotten that, with all the years that came between them.  He’s been up here the whole time anyway.  “Probably,” he says, and lets himself be pulled back to safer ground.  “Here, let me get your thermos.”

He crouches down, picks up the tall green flask and the little silver box under Tel’s watchful gaze.  The box he tucks into his trouser pocket; the flask he returns to Tel, who slips it into his shoulder bag.  “Tel,” he says, before he loses his nerve.  He waits for Tel to look back at him before he says, “Thank you.”

Tel smiles again, that beautiful smile of his.  Then he holds a hand out.  Jonah takes it.  

“So I was thinking,” he says, as they set off back down the mountain.  “Since we’re already living dangerously.  Drinks, maybe?  I do know a few good spots, fairly discreet.  Not too much trouble.  Most of the time.”

Jonah laughs.  “So when I told you that I’d only had one person try to kill me this year,” he says.  “Did you take that as a personal challenge, or –”

“I mean, I can think of a few places where we’re more likely to get into a fight, if you’d like,” Tel says, and Jonah laughs again, and knows that at least for tonight, he’ll go anywhere Tel wants.  

And what happens tomorrow will happen tomorrow.

[gas-stxtion-a]

//sorry i haven't been working on replies lately! you see, it's because [mid-sentence i slowly lie down on the floor and start crying really hard. i do not finish my explanation]

[danthropologie]

not to kill ur delusions because they keep me floating but that tweet is super fake and the guy even admits to trolling in the comments, and another thing is that helmut mentioned that they managed to find a "sweet spot" with the car (adrian newey geniousness) that allows them to adapt the car to both drivers now. idek how, but, newey i guess. and checo confirmed he felt very comfortable and fast in the car.

also im guessing the daniel footage must be old because im pretty sure corey posted stuff about their weekend and daniel was deifnitely still in LA

no you're totally fine!! maybe i'm just THAT delusional but it doesn't really kill anything for me tbh. the tweet seemed super fake to begin with, even the person that sent it acknowledged that, but even with it being fake, i still stand by everything i said- i still believe that daniel has a clause, that checo has a clause, and that red bull wouldn't hesitate to start making those clauses realities if things start moving in a certain direction lmao