#in case it wasn't clear the hearts are the directors thoughts

[nerdygaymormon]

I hear so many people hating on the Olympics for showing drag queens reenacting the Last Supper. That does seem pretty blasphemous. I'm curious to hear your thoughts about that

The morning after the 2024 Paris Olympics opening ceremony, my mom expressed her disgust at drag queens recreating da Vinci’s "Last Supper" and said it’s fine if they don’t believe but they shouldn’t mock others. I had no idea what she was talking about, I watched the opening ceremonies but I missed that. She admitted she didn't notice it either but it was all over her morning news.

Tbh, I figured if she was going to be offended by anything, it would be the multi-racial ménage à trois

Or possibly the guillotined Marie Antoinette holding her head

I found online that what she was referring to is what took place on a bridge over the river Seine. There was a table with a red carpet down the middle which served as a catwalk. At the center of the table was seated a woman wearing a silver headdress, surrounded by some drag queens and dozens of dancers and artists. Models featuring fashions from France's most promising young designers walked the runway.

The specific part of the ceremony that caused the offense was a closeup of the people at the table. The tableau was reportedly based on a painting by Dutch artist Jan Harmensz van Biljert called "Feast of the Gods," painted in 1635, and is housed in the Musée Magnin in Dijon, France. In the painting, the Greek gods on Mount Olympus have a banquet to celebrate the marriage of Thetis and Peleus.

The figure seated at the center of the table is Apollo, being the sun god he has a halo of light around his head.

One thing I liked is they updated the idea of Apollo with his lute to be portrayed by French DJ Barbara Butch with her equipment. Barbara advocates for several causes, such as acceptance of obese people and lesbian rights. She says her "aim is to unite people, gather humans & share love through music for all of Us to dance & make our hearts beat at unisson! Music sounds better with all of Us!"

They also had a blue Dionysus, the Greek god of wine, fruit, vegetation, and festivities.

All that meaning wasn't explained during the broadcast and went over my head, but I guess it makes sense to have a scene in the Olympics that gives a nod to the Greek gods, where the Olympics began, and which is meant to convey celebratory festivities, and is based on a painting housed in a French museum.

Even though there was no iconography like bread, wine, or even a bag of gold coins, having a bunch of folks on one side of the table reminded some people of Leonardo da Vinci's "Last Supper" painting.

The ceremony’s artistic director Thomas Jolly has said it was meant to celebrate diversity and pay tribute to feasting and French gastronomy. "The idea was to create a big pagan party in link with the God of Mount Olympus — and you will never find in me, or in my work, any desire of mocking anyone," Jolly said.

My guess is that if drag queens wanted to portray the Last Supper, they're talented enough that it would've been clear that was the intent.

Even if they meant to portray the "Last Supper," that painting has been recreated in many creative ways and I've never heard anyone upset about it, but maybe in this case they're upset because there were queer people involved. They forget that it is a queer painting, having been done by one of the most famous gay men in history, with one of the characters at the table being modeled on da Vinci's own lover Salaì.

Let's say the Olympic organizers did intend for this scene to be reminiscent of the "Last Supper," I'm good with it. Jesus would invite everyone to have a seat at the table, which is a good message for the Olympics to convey, all are welcome. No person at that table would be excluded from Jesus' table, but there's a number of Christians who would exclude themselves if it meant not having to sit with queer people and others they perceive as sinners, which is ironic since Christianity teaches that we're all sinners.

In summary, I think some people misinterpreted the intention of what was presented, and a group of conservative media types promoted that misinterpretation to cause outrage because that would generate views and clicks. Most people who are angry by this weren't upset when they saw it originally aired, they are furious because they were told that they should be upset about it.

[dreaming-marchling]

⭐  Because I couldn't choose which fic I most wanted a director's cut from. :D

I'll go with Across the Lonely Decades :)

Some BTS Tidbits:

"In the center of the mess was his newly re-made warlock. Magnus’ magic had been restored to him eight weeks ago and seeing him with his old confidence back had been a relief to Alec. Worth the trip to Edom and the literal hell he and Jace had gone through to make it right."

Imagine my deep shock when the show went in a totally different direction with this, lol. I was so sure that Jace was going to be a big driver in helping Alec get Magnus back, like nearly as intense about it as he was in getting Clary back. After Magnus and Alec sacrificed for him and with Alec's pain which Jace knew so well having just lost Clary I really thought we were going to see battle parabatai in Edom doing their damnedest because they BOTH were determined to get Magnus back. Super let down that they didn't go that route although obviously there are great aspects to what they picked. I left this bit in even after that aired just as an ode to what I wanted that arc to be.

---

This is one of the main ambience videos I used to help myself get into the Victorian mood.

---

“I don’t know much about parabatai I’ll be honest.” Ragnor said

Ragnor is not being honest. He's trying to get Alec to talk about it.

---

In answer, the warlock hurriedly handed him a… scimitar? Not his favorite and kind of a random choice but he’d take it.

I was getting into The Old Guard and Joe uses a scimitar so I threw this in for the unexpected blade Alec is given. I also picked Ragnor using Yusuf as the first Joseph iteration when he was sharing his revelation about Jozef's identity for the same reason.

---

The whole thongs conversation got added after I started posting the story because I felt like we needed another nice Bane scene of him trying after readers were even more upset about his behavior than I had anticipated.

---

“Shh,” Jozef shushed him gently. “I’m Joseph and Lottie is getting Magnus. That’s what matters, all right? I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise. Dymphna won’t come back.”

“Alec!”

Magnus’ frantic voice called for him.

Alec blinked slowly.

“Stay awake, Alec.” Jozef urged him. When had he learned Alec’s name? He hadn’t known it before when he had been sending Alec through time. He hadn’t been kind then either.

I wasn't super clear in the story and it confused some readers so I'll say it clearly here - Joseph only uses Alec's name here after Magnus calls it. He doesn't know it before that, he was using it after to try to keep Alec awake. I also initially had Joseph call Alec "child" before I decided that was too much and switched it to boy. I wanted Joseph to be really kind and tender to Alec to highlight the person he used to be. Also, I forever live for the idea that Alec is very obviously not centuries old to actual centuries old beings lol

---

Alec felt like he was floating.

I added this whole section to further break hearts right before the chapter was posted.

I pre-write all my stories before I start posting and while I'm editing as the story is posting I have added little bits to stories but I have never added so many scenes as I did to Across the Lonely Decades. I was having so much fun with this one and had so many feels and this was one of my favorite experiences with readers, I just wanted to give more and more.

---

A reader was sad that I didn't include Magnus' POV of Alec getting glamoured for their morning bread date so I wrote them this in a reply comment, in case anyone here has never seen it:

Magnus didn't go into this with plans for how he would change Alec. If he was going to take his 21st century boy out for as many different 19th century experiences as he could, he would likely be magically disguising him enough times that a great deal of fun could be had through the month. Right now, he had plans that needed them out the door quickly so he was just going to play a game of opposites top to bottom.

First, hair. Lengthen it and lighten it. He sent a pulse of magic at Alec and his hair grew rapidly, going from his usual short style into...

Oh.

Oh that was...

Alec leaned into the mirror to inspect his new hair, “What are you doing?”

Every moment of every day Alec was beautiful, Magnus was agonizingly aware of all the ways, but this...

It was like a Greek statue had come to life. Lush and lovely, made for worship. Tousled curls framed Alec's face, somehow highlighting his hazel eyes and making them glow. He looked like a Romantic poet, like he was about to whisper sonnets into Magnus' ear, like they were...

“Magnus?” Alec asked sort of cautiously.

Alec's voice broke the spell abruptly. “Apologies, darling, that hit me harder than I anticipated.”

---

To Alec’s surprised, Cat gave him a brisk rub of her hands over his arms, “I’m joining Eula and Kaira at the pantomime. Send me a fire message if he keels over but otherwise, have a lovely time and I’ll rejoin you tonight.”

Eula and Kaira are from Hybrid. Kaira more prominently as one of the warlocks who comes to help Magnus get the collar off and Eula is one of the warlocks who were killed to give Alec magic, Valentine calls her a bore when she argues with him.

---

But her eyes were the same. The pleased smile was the same. Martha stood in front of him.

“Hello, pretty boy.”

I didn't end up getting into their reunion conversation but Martha had been keeping an eye on Magnus for decades waiting for Alec to start appearing at his side. Technically she could have gone to Magnus while they were freaking out trying to find Alec and explaining but that would possibly ruin getting Alec home so she didn't. She was pretty pleased to get the call inviting her over knowing now was the time. Now that she doesn't have to stay away she and Alec become buddies :)

Thank you for asking!

[dandylovesturtles]

honestly i would read a whole fic's worth of director's commentary about I May Be Invisible but i will settle for asking about a few scenes

This one from Chapter 12 because I just. Really love this moment:

The mountain. The desert. Feel the space between and pull them together. Tear a hole through what was possible. Pull on his ninpo, on the power inside him.

He swung Donnie’s arms in a circle.

Nothing happened.

“That’s okay. Try again, Leo,” said Raph.

Leo took a breath. Tried to feel his ninpo again. A fire, Mikey had called it. Warm and soft, protective.

He swung again.

Nothing.

“This is stupid,” he said, the frustration gnawing at him.

“Hey, don’t give up. You’ve barely tried.”

Leo wanted to snap at him, tell him he was trying, but he bit it back before the words tumbled out of his mouth. Getting in a fight with Raph wouldn’t help. It wasn't like it was his fault, anyway.

Leo breathed deep, let it out through his nose, and was about to try again when suddenly there was a crackle of energy, a purple cylinder coalescing around the hilts of his katana.

“Donnie?” Mikey asked.

He shrugged. “I thought it might help. He reached for our ninpo to break the curse, right?”

“Oh… oh yeah! That’s a good idea!”

Red danced in his peripheral vision, and then Raph was grabbing onto the swords with enlarged hands, swallowing both Donnie and Leo’s own. Mikey whipped out an orange chain, wrapping them all together.

“Better hold on, Case,” said April. Leo didn’t look back to see what they were doing, but he guessed they were grabbing onto Raph’s shell.

Leo looked down at his brother’s energies, three familiar colors enveloping his hands. He closed his eyes, and instead of reaching for his swords, he reached for them.

The way each of them had felt when he’d broken the curse. Static electricity, Mikey had said. Glitchy. Sturdy and solid.

Fire, warm and soft.

He felt it in his core first, building up and heating him from the inside out. Comfortable, familiar, powerful. It flooded to his fingertips, wrapped around the swords, filled up the spaces between his brothers, snuggling into the cracks where it was meant to be.

“Yes, Leo!” Mikey cheered.

It curled around the swords, then into them, and the blades lit up with bright blue runes, the way they always did when Leo was preparing to teleport. Leo could feel the power thrumming through them, up through his hold on Donnie’s hands and into his arms and chest and heart.

“Oh, hachi machi,” he said.

And then he sliced the swords in one wide, clear, glorious arc, and blue flooded the rooftop.

----------------------------------

And of course this bit from Chapter 13 because that PUNCHED (pun intended) and the formatting just made it top notch!:

“And what is it that you want?”

“I…” (Remember remember remember.) “I want…”

The highest mountains. The deepest oceans.

New York pizza. Late night movie marathons.

No limitations. No responsibilities.

The thrill of learning something new. The pride of a job well done.

No worries. No pain. No fear.

Hugs. Reassurance. Love.

“I want the reversal spell!”

The medbay faded away.

“I see… I may have to try harder to convince you…

“You wretched

“little

“pest!”

The Krang could see him this time. It could hear him.

It could most certainly touch him. The punches were as solid as he remembered.

The Krang smashed him through the layer of rock, and he slammed into another down below. It was seconds before he was being hit again, sent tumbling through the void of space, and he really couldn’t move this time. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

And then, the scene reversed.

He was sucked back up through the cracks in the rock, until he was leaning back against a slab and staring up at the glowing red eye of the Krang’s suit.

The voice spoke.

“What do you want?”

“The reversal spell.”

The Krang hit him again.

It played over, exactly how he remembered, and he felt it - every punch, every slam, every angry scream barreling straight through his bones.

And then it reversed.

“What do you want?”

“I want to go back. Please. I want my body back!”

The Krang hit him again.

And reversed.

And hit him again.

----------------------------

and i'm sorry for this massively long ask but i reread Corrupted Upgrade again the other day and i wanna know what it was like writing this scene, like was it hard, was it fun, was it something you had in mind right from the start etc:

“Eh, that’s okay,” Raph interrupted. “Your tech just gets in the way.”

It hit him like a shock. Donnie pulled his arms tight to his plastron. “In the way…?”

“Yeeeaaah, I’m with Raph on this one,” said Mikey. “Your tech’s always shooting lasers where I’m trying to swing.”

“Or launching a rocket at our heads,” Leo chimed in.

“No, it’s helped us plenty of times! Like… like…”

“Like with the Shredder?” Mikey asked, his tone mocking.

Donnie felt the air leave his lungs.

“I’m glad we’re talkin’ about this, because I’ve actually been thinkin’.” Ignoring the critical blow he’d just dealt, Mikey turned back to the others with a smirk. “Why don’t we kick Donnie out and add someone cooler to the team?”

“How about we hold it to a vote?” Raph suggested.

“Oh yeah! Democracy!” Leo cheered.

Donnie managed to regain his voice. “Now hold on just a-”

“Everyone in favor of kickin’ Donnie out and getting someone better, say ‘aye’,” said Mikey.

“Aye!” yelled Raph and Leo in unison.

“Hey!” Donnie stomped his foot on the ramp. “I don’t know what kind of prank this is, but it isn’t funny.”

“This isn’t a prank, Dee,” said Leo, his voice nonchalant. “We took a vote, and you’re out.”

“That isn’t how this works!” Donnie took a step toward them. He could feel his muscles tensing, like he was bracing for impact. “You can’t just throw me out with a vote.”

“Well then, how about this,” Raph said, and Donnie shrank back as he stepped up.

In all his life, Raph had never made him feel so small.

“You’re out, Donnie. Leader’s orders.”

Awww thanks! I'm glad, I enjoy talking about it, haha.

The mountain. The desert. Feel the space between and pull them together. Tear a hole through what was possible. Pull on his ninpo, on the power inside him.

He swung Donnie’s arms in a circle.

I really love playing with what opening portals feels like for Leo, how he controls where they open and close and what traveling in that way feels like for him. I tend to lean on the interpretation that he needs to envision where he wants to go and and then pull on the power within himself to get the portal to go to the right place, and so it's easier for him to go to places he's really familiar with, that he can imagine clearly. It's also why when he "panic portals" he goes to weird places, like that bit in Mutant Menace where he portals them to what looks like another planet entirely - I imagine then he was just thinking "I want to go as far from here as possible" and, well, he accomplished that!

That said, the seriousness of it all is undercut a bit by the inherent comedy of Leo swinging Donnie's arms around LOL. I just thought it was a really funny mental image.

“That’s okay. Try again, Leo,” said Raph.

Love a supportive Raph in this house. Believe in the him that believes in you!

Leo took a breath. Tried to feel his ninpo again. A fire, Mikey had called it. Warm and soft, protective.

I've seen Leo's ninpo described in lots of different ways; personally I based it off the visualization we see in the movie:

I still really like the idea of Leo's ninpo feeling warm like a campfire to Mikey, and it really changed how Leo looked at it to hear it described that way, too.

He swung again.

Nothing.

“This is stupid,” he said, the frustration gnawing at him.

Leo hates being bad at things, especially when people are counting on him, especially when it's something he should be able to do. Besides all the things that could go wrong, this is also pretty embarrassing for him, which isn't helping with the stress. Of course it's not his fault, he's got a pretty big hurdle to jump here, but feelings are gonna feel.

“Hey, don’t give up. You’ve barely tried.”

Leo wanted to snap at him, tell him he was trying, but he bit it back before the words tumbled out of his mouth. Getting in a fight with Raph wouldn’t help. It wasn't like it was his fault, anyway.

Raph is just trying to be helpful, but Leo can't help but read that as Raph criticizing him, which leads to the fighting. I think he gets better at it after the movie, which is why he's able to clamp down on his immediate response here, but it doesn't stop it from getting to him a little.

Leo tends to couch his own critiques in softened language, saying things like "I love you but" or "I appreciate you but," and while this can come off as condescending, I think he would probably respond better if Raph did the same thing back to him. But Raph doesn't, probably because it does feel condescending, and so Leo feels like he's just being criticized, and fights happen.

At least that's how I see it haha.

Leo breathed deep, let it out through his nose, and was about to try again when suddenly there was a crackle of energy, a purple cylinder coalescing around the hilts of his katana.

“Donnie?” Mikey asked.

He shrugged. “I thought it might help. He reached for our ninpo to break the curse, right?”

That should really be "Donnie shrugged." Ough.

UH ANYWAY. Donnie's way of helping is to take direct action, which works a little better. And I imagine it was getting pretty weird for him to have his arms swung around without having any input in the situation, lol.

“Better hold on, Case,” said April. Leo didn’t look back to see what they were doing, but he guessed they were grabbing onto Raph’s shell.

April knew he could do it before Leo did. She knows her boys in and out.

Leo looked down at his brother’s energies, three familiar colors enveloping his hands. He closed his eyes, and instead of reaching for his swords, he reached for them.

Azzy (@/spectra-bear) drew art of this moment and included this line in the post, and I, being dumb, was like "oh wow that's really good, that's a banger line" because I forgot that I wrote it?? |'D I don't usually think of myself as being good at writing strong oneliners so seeing it out of context and being like "oh hey I did that" was kind of neat.

Anyway yeah have you guys noticed that I love the power of brotherly love and friendship? Because I do. It wins every time.

He felt it in his core first, building up and heating him from the inside out. Comfortable, familiar, powerful. It flooded to his fingertips, wrapped around the swords, filled up the spaces between his brothers, snuggling into the cracks where it was meant to be.

“Yes, Leo!” Mikey cheered.

And I also love puzzle pieces and things that fit just right. When Leo projected his ninpo, Mikey was able to feel it.

“Oh, hachi machi,” he said.

And then he sliced the swords in one wide, clear, glorious arc, and blue flooded the rooftop.

Gotta be at least a little silly in your big triumphant moment.

And since this gonna get really long, the rest will go under the cut!

For the chapter 13 part! I'm glad you liked it! I really enjoyed playing with the formatting to give it that extra OOMPH.

“And what is it that you want?”

“I…” (Remember remember remember.) “I want…”

So the entire "getting the reversal spell" arc was a relatively late edition to my planning; originally Donnie got the spell out of the fire elemental. I changed my mind around the time I was writing chapter 8 or so, but that meant I had to start ramping up the feeling that Leo was maybe starting to get into the whole "being a ghost" thing (and I think I did alright because I started pretty quickly getting comments with people worried about it, lol).

While it's not the same phrase, this is meant to be a bit of an echo to his panic attack in chapter 11, when Leo first really started considering staying a ghost instead of going back to his body.

No limitations. No responsibilities.

The thrill of learning something new. The pride of a job well done.

Of course, to consider staying like that, Leo has to be presented with something pretty enticing. I think this is the strongest one; Leo would never have to worry about feeling lacking or letting anyone down ever again. Of course, he wouldn't get the positive side of those feelings, either. Weighing the gains against the cost, it's pretty clear what he really wants.

“I see… I may have to try harder to convince you…

“You wretched

“little

“pest!”

Once I had the idea for this section, I knew this had to be in here. This is the line from the movie everyone remembers and everyone references because it's just so good, so visceral. This fic is meant to be set the better part of a year after the invasion, after Leo has been through a pretty substantial amount of recovery, but the fear of the Krang is still an ever-present part of him, even when he's facing down a completely different threat. Of course the Voice would latch onto that to try and manipulate him.

The Krang could see him this time. It could hear him.

It could most certainly touch him. The punches were as solid as he remembered.

The Voice can't actually hurt him much; he can touch Leo, but what punching or kicking he could do wouldn't be all that painful for Leo, who has natural armor and is better trained for combat. This is all psychosomatic - the Voice preying on the memory of the pain, rather than inflecting new pain.

And then, the scene reversed.

He was sucked back up through the cracks in the rock, until he was leaning back against a slab and staring up at the glowing red eye of the Krang’s suit.

I just thought this mental image was scary. Is it scary? I hope so.

“What do you want?”

“I want to go back. Please. I want my body back!”

How can you be so mean to this kid? (Because the voice is a dick, that's why. "Everybody wants this" he says, while torturing a poor child.)

AND FINALLY... Corrupted Upgrade time!

The answer is yes, I had at least a version of this scene in mind from the beginning!

The basic idea for Corrupted Upgrade was one i was turning around in my head since basically the beginning, before I started IMBI; I just got a more solid idea for IMBI and went with that first, tucking CU into the back of my head for a better opportunity. And I decided to use the Bang event as that opportunity!

I always knew that they would kick him out, and that Raph would deal the final blow. I didn't have the exact dialogue down until I started writing, though I did think Mikey would be the one to say that they should kick Donnie out, echoing the joke he makes in the Bullhop episode.

And yes I did have fun. Though I will say I agonized a lot more over this fic than any part of IMBI lol. Donnie's POV is a little harder for me to write than Leo's.

“Eh, that’s okay,” Raph interrupted. “Your tech just gets in the way.”

It hit him like a shock. Donnie pulled his arms tight to his plastron. “In the way…?”

As much as Leo clearly craves Raph's approval, I think Donnie does, too, just less secretly. Raph is their big brother, he's the ringleader, he's the one they all look up to. If Raph says this, Donnie takes it more seriously than if, say, Leo says it, because that means he really has failed somehow.

“No, it’s helped us plenty of times! Like… like…”

“Like with the Shredder?” Mikey asked, his tone mocking.

Donnie felt the air leave his lungs.

Mikey may joke around, but I don't think he would ever actually throw something like this at Donnie. But like with the Ice Cream fic, I headcanon that Donnie sees that first Shredder fight as his biggest failure - all his tech was destroyed without making a dent! It's hard to come back after that.

And this is just Donnie's own brain beating him up, so of course that's going to come out of the mouth of his beloved partner in crime, the peanut butter to his jelly. So sad.

“I’m glad we’re talkin’ about this, because I’ve actually been thinkin’.” Ignoring the critical blow he’d just dealt, Mikey turned back to the others with a smirk. “Why don’t we kick Donnie out and add someone cooler to the team?”

I just said this above, but this was absolutely meant to echo the "I was all set to kick Donnie out!" line from the show.

“How about we hold it to a vote?” Raph suggested.

“Oh yeah! Democracy!” Leo cheered.

Leo isn't contributing much to this conversation, he's more like the bullying hypeman. Tbf Donnie doesn't think he has many original thoughts, lol.

“Hey!” Donnie stomped his foot on the ramp. “I don’t know what kind of prank this is, but it isn’t funny.”

Donnie has a legitimately hard time believing that this is real at first, even though the program is doing everything it can to convince him. But his brothers wouldn't pull a prank like this, even if they might joke around a little, so if anything that helps the illusion.

“That isn’t how this works!” Donnie took a step toward them. He could feel his muscles tensing, like he was bracing for impact. “You can’t just throw me out with a vote.”

And he's starting to realize that here, which is why he's tensing up.

“Well then, how about this,” Raph said, and Donnie shrank back as he stepped up.

In all his life, Raph had never made him feel so small.

“You’re out, Donnie. Leader’s orders.”

I think any of them would be destroyed if Raph said something like this to them. It's the kind of thing you can't really come back from. Even Donnie with his emotionless badboy image. At least Raph didn't really say it!

Thanks for the ask!!

[agentravensong]

post-hamlet thoughts

tl;dr my college did hamlet and i was in it and it was cool

first of all, in case i hadn't made this clear already, this was entirely student-produced. i mean, we got some money from the theater department, but people-wise, it was all students.

i've told the rest of the cast this time and time again, but they're so good. insanely dedicated and humbling in their talent.

our hamlet, horatio, ophelia, and laertes were all freshman, and they were all stellar. ophelia and laertes broke my heart every night in the second half with their anger and their sadness. horatio always brings top energy to scenes and had lots of funny moments (espec counting his doubling as the second gravedigger) but also made me feel things (we staged act 4 scene 6 as him alone on stage reading hamlet's letter to the audience and he killed it every time). and our hamlet was just incredible; a pleasure to act against as guildenstern and a pleasure to watch / listen to in their more emotional scenes.

and everyone else was great too! our polonius was always funny but also had genuine moments of connection with his kids; our cladius brought some great depth to the role (his take on the monologue in act 3 scene 3 was great) while still being despicable, especially in his manipulation of laertes; our gertrude brought our director's take on her to life impeccably; and, of course, i had a wonderful and hilarious partner in our rosencrantz :)

not to mention our quartet of players (who also filled out the other miscellaneous roles) who had a ton of great moments. shout-outs in particular to the guy who doubled as the first gravedigger and sang his sung lines as a sea shanty (honestly, i think he could have been a great guildenstern or rosencrantz in another universe).

the crew, of course, was also amazing. there were like 150 cues? my friend (the writer i mentioned in this post) did a fantastic job with the lights. the people behind the staging and makeup did just as well. and the costumes were so fun! everyone looked great; we had a consistent black-white-red-brown color palette that tied it all together. special shout-out to the player king wearing a white shirt with a black cape while cladius wore a zipped-up leather jacket and a white cape.

oh, and me and ros? we got fedoras :) i may share a photo later. maybe.

we did our show in the college black box theater (inside the fine arts building), which i do not currently have the brain cells to try and explain the layout of. it's a kind of weird space, but i think we made the most of it. for the majority of the show i was off stage left, meaning i was hanging out at the top of the stairs which serve as the main entrance and exit to the theater (sitting/standing where i couldn't be seen by the audience obv). you can't really see the stage at all from there but you sure can hear the actors, and by the time of the show that was (mostly) enough for me.

as far as how the actual shows went?

friday was our most engaged audience. their laughter was greatly appreciated in the early scenes ...slightly less so when everyone was dying in the final scene. i mean, i get it, people start dropping like flies and actually foaming at the mouth and spitting out (fake) blood; it's a lot. i applaud hamlet and horatio for staying in character through it. everyone did a great job that night; it was probably better than all our dress rehearsals as a whole.

saturday, at least from my pov, had kind of weird vibes at the start? i don't know how much of it was people getting to bed late the previous night, how much of it was overconfidence, and how much of it was people getting in their own heads, but it was our lowest energy show. the audience wasn't as audibly engaged either, but they did give us a big applause. i felt more good than bad about it by the end, for sure.

especially in retrospect, because, despite us having a smaller crowd at today's matinee, everyone was back on the ball. the ending in particular i think was the best we've ever done it. it was probably my best performance as well.

to be clear, i wouldn't rate any of our three shows below an 8 out of 10, for what that's worth. everyone gave so much to their performances; the funny bits were funny even when the audience didn't seem to think so, and i was always getting caught up in my feelings in the second act. you can't ask for much more than that.

now, here's a compilation of things from the production in no real order:

i already posted about this, but having the blood stains on stage where people die from the beginning of every show? *chef's kiss*

i'll also restate the thing i mentioned in the tags of that post: characters who were murderers had symbolic blood makeup after they killed someone. cladius had a bloody ear from the start of the show, the meaning of which becomes clear once you see the player king get poison poured in his ears; hamlet got blood on their face during intermission that's meant to be polonius's blood; and, arguably most significantly, gertrude had bloody handprints around her neck when she entered at the end of act 4, which, in addition to her hair and arms being dripping wet, is meant to suggest that the story she tells about ophelia's death is, in fact, a cover for something less accidental.

as mentioned above, our director's take on gertrude in general was, from my understanding, pretty different from the standard. to quote from his character spines, "you fundamentally want to prepare your son hamlet to be king; you are playing essentially a game of chess to do so." it was really compelling to see in action. the way she performed act 4 scene 7? chilling.

speaking of those character spines, the first line of horatio's is literally just, "You are in love with Hamlet." and boy howdy did that come through

prime example of that (other than just, all of his and hamlet's interactions, which were wonderful): when horatio finished reading the letter from hamlet, he sniffed it, in a very sweet and very not-platonic way

it was an unintentional running gag throughout the whole process that other cast members would forget between ros and me which character we were playing - to the point that every performance, when hamlet first greeted us, even though i would get to them first, they addressed me first, and it's written that they say my name first, they would call me rosencrantz and our ros guildenstern. ...someone should write a play about that.

i might have posted about this already, but in ros and i's first scene with hamlet, when the two of them start talking about child actors, hamlet made us sit in the thrones, and we would make moves to leave of varying boldness that they, of course, never let us follow through on. this then got basically repeated in act 3 scene 2 except that horatio got to join in on the fun of relentlessly mocking us

(the thing where hamlet handed me their copy of william shakespeare's complete works while they dud the "what is a man" mimi monologue got dropped at some point in the dress rehearsals, unfortunately. they did flip through it with the players though)

during the play within a play, polonius would keep falling asleep and ros and i would keep waking him up

(we also got to do some fun silent banter back in act 2 scene 2 while hamlet and the players were doing their thing)

then the bit after that with the recorders, aka guildenstern's defining moment, was just so fun. hamlet and horatio basically sandwiched ros and me between the two of them, and hamlet and i played off each other very well (at least imo), and though i couldn't see what horatio and ros were doing behind me i know that it got some good laughs. and i could tell every night that the scene landed despite the shakespearean language barrier, so i can't help but be satisfied.

my other best moment was when the king told me to go get polonius's body from the stairs and i got to slump and make a "do i have to?" face before my (final) exit. i managed to actually get some chuckles from that tonight, from the crowd that, again, laughed the least in general, and i can't put into words how euphoric i was to have that be my last moment playing guildenstern.

from the rest of the second half of the show, which i am not in, i will highlight a) the gravedigger eventually realizing after shoveling for minutes on end that he's been shoveling literally nothing (love me a good little fourth wall break) and b) when hamlet and laertes come to physical blows over ophelia, horatio, on his line, steps between them, draws laertes's sword, and takes a stance pointing it at laertes to hold him off, all in basically one glorious motion.

oh, and the ending, of course.

as i alluded to way earlier, we had fake blood and alka-seltzer tablets that the people who died in act 5 scene 2 used to great effect (particularly the people who died via poison)

speaking of that scene, the sword fight was very neat! well-choreographed and well-enacted. real foils btw

and the way hamlet and horatio performed the ending? more than anything, the way hamlet said "give me the cup; let go!" - that shit hurt, in the best way, every night. (and though hamlet died in the king's throne (with the king's crown on), horatio held / clung to them the whole damn time)

for a lighter final note: our polonius doubled as fortinbras and came on at the ending in this huge, heavy, vampire-ass cloak, accompanied by our director as the messenger from england who announces my and ros's death :)

thankfully, we did record our last dress rehearsal, so we do have a version of it that we'll get to watch back in the future. i won't be able to share it with any of y'all (we will apparently be in BIG trouble if we post it anywhere online) but it'll be nice to have for me.

funny thing that happened while i was typing this long-ass post out: i kept using present tense and then realizing i had to change it to past tense. and by "funny" here, i mean, uh... oof.

we never got a perfect run-through where no lines were skipped over, but, i mean, it's fucking hamlet. we did this shit in like a month and a half (with a week lost to spring break); it's more than impressive that the show turned out how it did. it was a group labor of love, and one of the best things i've ever gotten to be a part of.

and i miss it already.

...at least there's movie night on tuesday :)

[roydeezed]

Some Thoughts about - Poker Face

So like I know I'm late to the party but hot damn! is this show so much of what I love.

First of all I need to gush over Natasha Lyonne. Not only does she play Charlie as a snoopy little gremlin incredibly well, but when she's not snooping, her everywoman acting is so sincere and heartfelt. And beyond her acting, her directing in episode 8, The Orpheus Syndrome is jaw-dropping. It's a surrealist thriller masterpiece along the lines of fucking Suspiria and Vertigo. Throughout the whole episode I was captivated and entranced and it wasn't until I checked the credits that I realised why it was so impactful. I haven't watched much of her directorial efforts outside episode 8 of Russian Doll, but it seems like her style has always been surrealist. I gotta check it out.

And speaking of Vertigo and Hitchcock, I think after the longest time, we finally have a director that rivals his sensibilities in Rian Johnson. Hitchcock was a piece of shit but it's undeniable that his thrillers were tense masterpieces. If you don't believe me, check out my personal favourite in Rear Window. But not only does Rian Johnson remind me of Hitchcock at his best, with mysteries such as Brick and the Glass Onion movies and now Poker Face, his penchant for creating affable Detectives with kind hearts reminds me of Agatha Christie's characters in Miss Marple and Poirot.

But that's all surface level talk so below the cut I'm gonna get into some deeper thoughts and what I think the overarching themes are. Heavy spoilers below!

And speaking of themes, I wanna go over what they are, and how Episode 7, 8, and 9 helped me figure it out. At least one of the central ones. And that being Guilt.

After praising it so much, I do think I need to offer up some criticism, as I do have some. While a lot of comparisons have been made to Columbo, I think one of the key differences is that the culprits aren't always from high society, to the shows detriment. And as Charlie isn't a cop and instead fleeing across the country, it makes sense and leaves room for interesting stories. But every once in a while, like Episode 7, The Future of the Sport, starring Charles Melton and Tim Blake Nelson, both of whom I adore, you get a emotionally and socially dissonant story. As somehow the blue collar worker who's fighting against nepotism in an industry still has to be the bad guy. While it supported the themes, it still left a bad taste.

Now, you might be saying, it's a show about murders, of course it's about guilt. But it's not in the way you're thinking. Unless you are, in which case, welcome to smart people town. Population you, cause outside of this I'm still pretty much a dumbass.

Moving on, let's go over it. Poker Face talks of an unwarranted guilt. I'm sure Rian Johnson and co had a pithier phrase to represent it but what it means is that it represents a kind of survivors guilt. In Charlie's conversation with David Castaneda's character Jimmy in where she admits how much Natalie's death has weighed on her. And with the reveal that he wasn't directly responsible for her death through selling her bad coke, and the previous episodes where Tim Blake Nelson's and Nick Nolte's character's both realise they weren't the culprits, it shines a light on the constant theme of wholly unwarranted guilt.

And across the rest of the episodes, barring episode 2 for a reason I can't yet figure out, it deals with Charlie thinking she either led them to their death's, having something to do with the deaths even for the smallest moments, or helping someone that thinks they're guilty such as the stage manager in Episode 6, Exit Stage Death.

But unwarranted guilt alone provides for a pretty flimsy theme if left alone. So how's it expanded upon? The last episode makes it clear through dialogue, revelations into Charlie's past and actions themselves that this unwarranted guilt breaks you down in such a specific way. In the last episode we get what seems to be a pointless return to Charlie's past. But learning about how she moves through life, another unwarranted piece of guilt and this metaphor of swimming, brought up again at the boat, we see how the guilt puts you in a situation where either you drown from it or you swim. And the direction you swim in, the way you move through life, is inherently affected by the guilt that's drowning you, and ultimately can lead you to make bad decisions, as the first thing that comes along that can stop you from drowning, be it a boat, a life preserver, or as Cliff mentions multiple times throughout the show, The Hook. The Hook is a distraction, something deadlier than the sea that you're drowning in, and fortunately for a detective show, and unfortunately for her, Charlie's hook is trouble.

[versegm]

OH FUCK I meant to send you a Director's Commentary thing when you reblogged it BUT I FORGOT anyway how about the deets on "And the Audience Clapped"? (If you're still in the mood)

For you? Always <3

The actual fic has a trigger warning for uh. Everything? The base premise of the fic is "Guda has incredibly disturbing intrusive thoughts and does not react well to them" so even if I don't think I'll get into details in my play by play, tw for thoughts of sexual violence, onscreen self-harm and suicide attempts, and overall blorbo from my show spiralling bad.

My primarily goal when writing this was "I want to see how fucking worse I can make Guda." But I'm a weenie I actually like bad endings so my secondary goal was "but I want it to end well."

I have absolutely no idea if I succeeded. I feel like I chickened out too much tbh (<- squicked out by sexual violence) and as for the ending I'm often told that what I qualify as a "good/okay ending" is often "fucking horrifying" to other people. Still I like the final result so that's everyone else's problem. This was however a nightmare to tag which is why I just went the "choose not to use archive warnings/fuck around and find out" route, because if I tagged everything it would be WAY too long.

Anyways. "What if the player was an outer god." I post about it a lot in a comedic tone over here. I wrote it as self indulgent porn somewhere else. But I really wanted to take it in a more... realistic? Direction I guess? What if things weren't automatically fine and ok because the story demanded it. What if it was in fact an incredibly distressing situation to be in. I don't like writing monsters are villains (not my vibe) but that does not mean the monster loving you & having good intentions should always be an instant smooth sailing. Which really means that Guda will be stuck in intrusive thoughts central for nearly 6k.

Now for a more specific play by play of the fic:

The problem with writing the POV character being possessed is that it is incredibly hard to showcase when "this is something normal from the character" vs "this is someone else speaking through the character" (doubly so when the character themself does not realize the possession is happening) So I was at times less than subtle about it. In case it wasn't clear, this is the player being worried about Guda, and Guda misinterpreting the feeling because "this is someone else's thought" is not typically the first conclusion people would draw. Anytime in the fic where you see Guda having conflicting emotions, or being confused about their own feelings, that was a case of player feelings interfering with their owns.

Outer gods are basically eldritch gods in Fate lore. As such I don't think they really have like. A body the way humans consider it. That's why the fics have various instances of weird fascination towards flesh and how it functions. From the perspective of a god, it'd be like suddenly figuring out how an ancient watch works.

When you're being possessed by someone who is 1) incredibly not fucking normal about your bestie and 2) does not know the difference between intimacy love and violence. Bottom text.

Also a lot of people initially assumed that I picked Castoria in this specific scenario because I, too, am not normal about her. And I mean. That is partially true (tho not to that extent lmao) but also Castoria IS canonically one of the closest people to Guda (& the most likely to realize that something is wrong.) It's not just "I'm having horrible thoughts about some random aquaintances" it's "I love this person with all my heart and I want to give them the world, but I can't even give myself to them because my existence is poison." So double the agony.

This was inspired by one specific scene from Mairimashita!Iruma-Kun, available on mangadex and probably crunchyroll please for the love of god read that manga it fucks SO hard.

When you're an Outer God with only a very vague knowledge of humans and what they look like so instead of focusing on eye color or haircuts you're just fascinated by the fact that this lil one has thirty-two teeth. Bottom text.

This whole section is meant to be "all the times Guda died before the player rebooted the games," so I picked all the hardest boss fights I could think of. There's someone in the comments who asked me months ago if they should pick up a guide for the Cernunnos fight because I brought it up like five times in that paragraph alone. My guy if you are following my blog, yes, you should. You really fucking should.

Also I use second person a lot when writing Guda fic because it's easier (they/them can be confusing when you're writing multiple characters in one setting) but ofc for this fic this also gave me the opportunity to write some moments where the player is directly talking to Guda (or at Guda, rather.)

I wanted to show that while the player was at their most Not Normal about Castoria, they do love everyone in Chaldea, which is why Guda is being more affectionate than usual here.

I'm just really proud of "You imagine lapping at her open wounds, lapping at her wet cunt." Intimacy and violence but also holes and fluids you know how it is.

My bitch Guda who wouldn't wish to bother others & show any weakness if they had a gun to their head.

Christ I can't summarize MHXX's lore concisely, but she is repeatedly compared to a character from a sitcom, hence why her first comparison is to tv shows.

This is meant to be a call-back to that bit earlier where they wonder how hard they'd have to bite to make Castoria bleed.

To lb6 players out there: I was thinking of Gareth writing this line.

I don't remember if I told you, but Castoria has Fairy Eyes, ie is capable of perceiving lies (tho the exact mechanics are unclear.) That's why Guda is being extra stubborn. They can't deny that they're fine because she'll know it's false, so they're trying to dodge the entire conversation.

My bitch Guda who is taking the entire situation soooo well (casually deshumanize themself & considers being dead in the same sentence)

[Castoria voice] why don't you get into bdsm and then maybe you'll feel better.

Anyways, that was blorbo from my game having the worst life of their life! I think I could have done worse, and will endeavor to do so soon. Still damn proud of it tho!

[verdantflamingo]

Sasha - the heart of the trio

Hello everyone who is ready to read this, I would like to leave here some of my thoughts regarding the animated series Amphibia (2019). Please note, I am writing this after watching the episode: Barrel's Warhammer (2x34?, in Czech it is probably numbered differently, they published it as two connected chapters, so I don't know…), well anyway, in conclusion, I haven't seen the whole thing yet, so all my non-watching theorizing will be based on just the chapters up to this episode.

The main idea I want to break down now is the Calamity Gems and their "masters" in this case the mistresses. Probably none of us will dispute that the green stone - (Wit) rightfully belongs to Marcy.

She is very smart, inquisitive, determined to get to the bottom of everything, so much so that sometimes she overlooks everything that stands in her way… Which we learn from her already in the first introduction… Yes, she is without a doubt the pillar of intelligence of our trio.

But how did she get her stone? Did she solve all the mysteries of the temple, trick him, outsmart him? No. She had to suppress her ego, her desire to be the smartest, she had to show humility. She had to stop walking over corpses as was her usual habit. The idea that the more one knows, the less one actually knows, is somewhat carried over here. Which is great. Yes, it wasn't exactly the smartest way the director show it, but the idea is there. The whole series kind of doesn't have a very good storytelling ability, you have to guess the points, what the authors wanted to say… But about that another time.

We have two stones left, and in the following sentences I will try to explain why, in my opinion, it would be better if our heroines exchanged them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second stone that our group charged is a blue stone: Heart. Anne wins him over for her empathy, devotion to others, and for the newly charged responsibility that she only learned with the Plantars.

And in a way it makes sense. Anna was very irresponsible when she first came to Amphibia. In some moments she was really terrible to the point that I was surprised that they actually chose such a character as the central one.

I'll allow myself a small remark outside: Actually, we meet Sprigg first, he is actually introduced as the main character, which makes sense, because he is the more morally mature and more typically main character than Anne…

Anyway, I'm not saying that learning responsibility isn't beneficial for Anne. If it was just these two, then I have nothing against Anne as a heart at all.

But there aren't just two.

Sasha has by far the best performance of the character in the entire series. She is mysterious. From Anna's flashback, we learn that she is manipulative, rude, and hates being contradicted. But we also learn that she fiercely protects her friends and that she knows how to deal with people and frogs, and that she is a true leader, just for now not exactly best one.

She takes a leadership role in their group of friends and I'm curious to learn more about why she is the way she is and why these three became friends. At first glance, they are really quite different…

Well, for many reasons, even though I'm not there yet it's clear that Sasha will charge the last pink stone, acording to wiki the red stone: Strength.

Well, no doubt, Sasha is strong. And persistent. There is no doubt about it.

So why don't I think she should be the wielder of the power stone?

Because it has no meaning to her. From my point of view so far, there are no really challenge for her to get the stone. Sasha has held both pillars of the rock since the beginning.

Yes, this might be the moment when I should first finish watching the entire series and then quack, but… Yeah, I don't know what she'll have to put herself through to showcase those qualities, but while the other two lacked the other stone qualities to begin with, Sasha really had both, so whatever she has to overcome, it won't be in the same vein as Marcy and Anne.

On the other hand, Sasha sure has a heart. She loves her friends very much, their loss certainly destroys her, and she quickly established a relationship with Grim. And she definitely LACKS RESPONSIBILITY. Both in her behavior towards those around her, and mainly towards her two friends.

And Anne is undoubtedly physically strong and definitely, beyond all doubt she LACKS PERSISTENCE in many ways. I'll elaborate on that.

I'll start with Anne. In the very first chapters we understand that he lives in Sasha's shadow. That he submits to her in many ways and doesn't stand up for his opinion. She lacks the strength to stand up for herself.

But at the end of the first season, he is able to stand up for himself and others and defeat Sasha. So, apart from physical strength, she also learned mental strength, which is very important.

As for her persistence. Yes, there are activities in which Anne shows tremendous persistence, such as fighting someone, protecting her friends, not giving up, etc. But at the same time, she's lazy, she has trouble staying focused, and I think that's getting better over time. So if the final task involved something like that, that would be cool and I think it would work. Also, it makes more sense to find wit and strength first than heart, it's like they skipped something…

I'll also just mention the physical strength base of both girls. We know about Anna that she plays tennis, which is a solo game by the way, just to mention, and she took regular martial arts. She is a very athletic girl. On the other hand, Sasha draws on her years as a cheerleader, which is a very physically straining activity, but it is definitely not a traditional combat activity. Plus, it's mostly team-based, and it's also about cheering and supporting…

I think it would make more sense with Anna if the strength was especially in the sense of inner strength, but mostly I think Sasha would be a better heart.

And finally, a poll: I'm curious how many people have the same opinion and how many people will send me to the shack with my theory.

[annabtg]

Hello, if you don’t mind for the director’s cut ask:

“D’you know that there’s a war going on?” he asked eventually.

Petunia’s brow furrowed. “What kind of war?”

“The real kind. With battles, and casualties, waged against people like your sister who have the misfortune to have no magical background other than what they were born with.”

His voice was even, colourless, despite the atrocities he was talking about. A chill ran down Petunia’s spine. “Why are you telling me this? Lily has never said anything about it.”

“So you didn’t know?”

“No.” She scooted further away from him, head suddenly dizzy, but eyes steady on him. “Why would I know? Why would I care?”

——The Chaperone

I feel as though Lily never told her parents about the truth (in fear of being pulled out from school) but it never occurred to me that she also kept it from Petunia. So when I read this part, I thought maybe she’ll have a change of heart but sadly Petunia is still bitter towards Lily (except for the ending of this fic l, that was nice on her behalf). I really liked the way that Sirius defends Lily, that warmed my heart.

Ask me for director's commentary here!

A wonderful choice! So much to say about this scene! This is a story that had me put a lot of thought into relationships and characterizations so it's wonderful to receive asks for it! ❤️ Thank you, Nena!

Under the cut for length.

From a story-telling viewpoint, there needed to be a "culmination" in Petunia and Sirius's conversation - something that would somehow convince Petunia not to be such a bitch and advocate for Lily to their father. I went back and forth re: touching the war issue or not, but eventually I figured that the fic had already some tension and wasn't the entirely funny romcom I'd initially visualized, so I decided it worked.

I believe that, if Lily didn't tell her parents about the war, she sure as hell didn't tell Petunia. There was nothing to be gained from this, their relationship is already not good enough as to justify seeking comfort in her, and frankly Lily here knows her status as a witch and how her family is detached from the magical society give her a sort of edge that she fully takes advantage of, sometimes even in dickish ways.

In this fic, I tried to lean more into an interpretation that wasn't full-on hate between the sisters - sibling relationships are such a goldmine of complicated feelings, and I think it's not canonically impossible that Petunia's feelings were a different sort of negative.

Petunia is the oldest daughter of a conservative family (see: her father's views on dating), and that often comes with very rigid worldviews - and young people are even less forgiving than older people like her parents may be. She naturally assumes the role of taking care of her little sister and keeping her in line, so when the little sister strays and gets a mind and life of her own, it's a shock to her system she can't quite shake. She has internalized being a good daughter and a proper lady as the highest standards she can achieve, and Lily not caring about that is offensive to her whole worldview. She doesn't hate Lily, but she sees in black and white: there's a correct and a wrong way to do life, and Lily is not doing the correct one. There may also be some deeply hidden jealousy, but Petunia will never get to the bottom of her feelings when it's so easy to just blame it all on Lily for being the wrong sort of person. So her not caring is not lack of love; it's resentment towards Lily, for not listening to her, making all the wrong choices and that, apparently, leading her down a dangerous path - but what can Petunia do other than say I told you so?

(And in case it's not painfully clear? I am the oldest daughter of a conservative family, so I definitely drew from experience to channel Petunia here.)

In the end, what happens is really Petunia deferring to her father and answering his own question. Her dad doesn't mind the magic; all he wants is a good, honest boy who will treat his daughter well and take care of her, and Petunia can tell that James is that sort of person.

Now, the fact that part of the reason she can say it is that Sirius convinced her, is a whole other conversation... 😏

[leandra-winchester]

i just wanted to say maybe buddie fans wouldn't be acting the way they are if kristen didn't completely regress their dynamic from seasons past in s6. I mean only one buckley-diaz scene in a half is ridiculous. Even if it's an ensemble show, it's the most popular relationship on the show bar NONE and it's a core dynamic of the show and you're telling that it's completely normal that they have one scene in 9 episodes? Maybe if they would have given us more Buckley-Diaz scenes when it was clear that many scenes this seasons should have been Buck/Eddie scenes but were not is making people a tad on edge because it's a complete 180 from how Buddie was treated the past couple seasons.

Do you write? Serious question because I think many people are solely viewing this from a buddie-fan perspective and not from that of a writer.

The writers (and Kristen) wanted to do things a little differently this year. They wanted to explore Hen and her story much more, and also her dynamics with other characters, and some other dynamics between the various members of the 118, but it is all very Hen-centric when it comes to those off-duty scenes.

Bobby and Buck's father-son-like relationship was also always pretty integral, and the only moment between them I can now remember is the "find a way to be at ease and peace" convo in the very first episode. Does that mean Bobby doesn't care about Buck anymore? Certainly not.

What it means is that the writers had certain stories in mind that they want to tell. And they only have 42-44 minutes to tell them. Plus all the calls, having to shape those stories into something that works as an episode (which you can absolutely argue some do less than others, because writers and directors aren't perfect, and our preferences are different).

However, sometimes certain things just don't work out. You may have thought at some point "Hm, I really want a scene with XY" but then it doesn't fit into the whole story and would seem arbitrarily added (and this is not fanfiction), or you simply don't have enough time in the episode.

What 911 has NOT done, however, is "completely regress their dynamic." Every call, almost every team scene is PACKED with little moments and gestures between Buck and Eddie. Eddie addressing Buck about secrets Chris is keeping. Eddie looking all heart-eyes at Buck when he's being silly. Eddie and Buck exchanging glances when someone on a call says something stupid. Buck going to sit down closely next to Eddie, getting a cup of coffee from him. Buck saying he's going to 'grab Eddie' self-evidently. And so much more.

Each of those interactions scream familiarity and ease with each other. We may not have seen them have a longer conversation (and what about really? Except the sperm donor story, which Buck deliberately picked Hen as his person of expertise, which was good. Aside from that, the plot of the calls and overall stories in the episodes did not demand it, or they didn't demand it in the eyes of the writers, or there wasn't enough time. Like handing over Hover for example. I can very easily imagine that they sat there, wondering which interactions to pick, and the Eddie + Chim one was definitely the more interesting, fun one in that case, and it might have seemed jarring to also add the last one, so it was left between the lines).

But, the absence of longer conversations that we've seen doesn't mean they don't happen. It doesn't mean Buck and Eddie aren't close anymore, in their private lives. Because if that were the case, they wouldn't have been as close-knit and at ease with each other at work.

Showing these small things is an instrument to portray a relationship when you don't have the time to focus on it in detail.

And this is also why 6x01 is so important. From a writer's perspective, this scene was detailed, deep and very loud in showing just how close Buck and Eddie are outside of work. That was established at the beginning of the season. And storytelling-wise, nothing happened that changed this; there was no shift in interaction between them, no renewed distance or awkwardness or anything that indicates anything has changed. Things still ARE as they were in 6x01. We just don't get to see much of it because there isn't enough time, and other things are at the forefront right now.

Which isn't saying that I am, personally, super happy with this (I frankly don't care all that much about Hen and her doctor storyline, for example). But I understand it!

There is so much open opportunity for Buck and Eddie to have closer interactions outside the firehouse again in the second half of the season, and from a story-telling-perspective, it also makes a lot of sense to keep the suspense up for a while and safe pay-offs for later.

Even if Buddie never goes canon, I am very, very sure there'll be closer interactions again next half. About the whole donor thing (which we've seen indicators that Eddie is holding himself back here; he was not initially consulted and asked for an opinion, so he's not forcing it upon Buck in a meddlesome way because that would be shitty. But it will likely pop up later again); about Eddie's dating life, nicely circling back to "you could have replaced that couch a long time ago"/"I just didn't want to pick the wrong one again". These are themes that were introduced but not completed, so they very, very likely will be.

Anyway, this is longer than I intended. And this is going to be the LAST reply to any of those asks. I'm generally not a great fan of anonymous messages if they're in any way "negative". I'm all for open discourse, but coming at someone anonymously with an opposing opinion feels a bit... like it's a provocation. That may not have been your intention, anon, but that's how it can feel.

Also, I said everything I can say. If you still want to view it pessimistically, that's of course in your right. Just leave me out of it.

[spaceistheplaceart]

The Projection / Light / Imagination Room

i can't decide on a name...

Anyways, as they're going through the rooms in the parable, Narry eventually brings up one of his stories again. The Director responds that, it's a little weird how Narry keeps talking about his stories, and yet the Director has no idea what any of them are about. Narry never told him.

Narry says well! of course not! It's not finished yet! None of my stories are...

Director asks him why?

Narry says that stories are art, and art takes time. It has to be perfect, each new line must be able to flow into the next-- he doesn't want to make a story and then re read it and realize he screwed up somewhere. It's a labor of love... a very, very, very, long labor... of love.

There's silence for a moment before the Director tells him he would like to hear what he has anyway. Even if it isn't done. Narry refuses at first, saying that he hardly has anything written down and... and... it's embarrassing and-- not good enough yet-

Then he sees the blue words in the air write just two words: c'mon. please?

Narry sighs and grumbles about it, but takes a small notepad out of his pocket. This isn't the main place he keeps his stories, but he likes to have it on him to write when things come to his mind. You never know when inspiration strikes! It could strike anywhere, really-- it's struck him in the shower before. But then the pages got all wet... and... Narry trails off, realizing he's rambling like a loser and just clears his throat.

He begins to read, but the Director stops him. Opens a door to a new room.

Narry inquires about the room. The Director tells him that it's a good room for ideas and lays down, his arms folded behind his head. He looks up expectantly at Narry. Narry takes a moment to realize that he wants Narry to read to him. Narry blushes a little at this, taking out his notebook and bashfully rambling a bit about how his ideas are not done, and not to judge yet, but if the Director has any uh- any constructive criticism, he'd be glad to hear it.

The Director nods.

Narry begins to read. And as he does... something appears on the walls.

Narry watches, dumbfounded for a moment, as the light dances on the wall... then slowly fades out. The Director looks up at him and asks him why he stopped.

"The- the walls..." Narry responds, pointing to the now blank surface. "M-my story was on there. Did you do that?"

The Director shrugs a shoulder, a small smile in his eyes. He explains that: a little bit of that was him, but a little bit of it was also Narry. This room shows you what you're thinking. The Director uses it a lot when he thinks of rooms for the parable to really flesh them out. He pauses for a moment then chuckles a bit and adds: I wouldn't be able to think up anything like what was just there-- most of my thoughts are architecture. All the artsy things were you.

Narry gives the Director a bashful little hand wave, as if to say 'oh, stop it. don't flatter me' but not so secretly, that comment went to his ego. The Director knows that, and smiles knowingly before shutting his eyes again and asking Narry to keep reading. It was a nice story so far, maybe a bit heavy in prose, but good.

Narry's face falls into a grumpy frown and objects to the 'prose' criticism, but when Director goes to remind him about his request for 'constructive criticism'-- Narry cuts him off and keeps reading.

"Twas burning flesh and the twinkling of dashed hopes round her neck, a gift for the heavens, taken untimely from the feet of its mortal bearers. They were not to know her true blessings, blind to their own skin. If there was ever a moment when the truth was made known, it was not one recognized by eyes, but by a more intangible spirit whose true name conflicted with that of the vessel that carried it."

All the while, the images on the walls danced, showing his words coming to life. Narry found it hard to look away, sometimes faltering in his speech as he got distracted by the visuals.

Eventually, he came to the end of his excerpt... but... kept going anyways-- improvising. just to see more.

The Director claps softly, sitting up. He tells Narry that it was a nice story. He has some notes, but he's definitely interested to see where it goes.

Narry sighs defeatedly. No, he says, I didn't have much to work with, actually... I ended up just- just improvising at the end there-- ugh. My prose is lackluster, I would need more time...

The Director shakes his head. He points to the wall. He says that to him, it looked like Narry was enjoying what he wrote. He couldn't stop staring at the wonderful imagery that appeared there-- and that imagery would not have been possible if his descriptions were poorly written. Sure, it was a bit wordy, but the tone was... good!

The Director shrugs. He apologizes, he's not much of a writer. He laughs to himself at the irony for a moment before continuing.

He tells Narry that as long as he enjoyed writing, it was good. And if Narry was willing to just make up new lines on the fly like that, then he certainly enjoyed it.

Narry takes a moment to think about what the Director said, then sighs and chuckles a bit. He shrugs and nods. He agrees, yeah, it was nice. To see his story come to life like that... even if it isn't... perfect yet-- maybe he could... he could improve upon it? If- if the Director didn't mind, actually... could he be allowed in here again?

The Director nods. Of course he can.

Narry smiles down at him.

[everye]

tell me please, why on earth this game supposed to be so impressive ?? ..

yeah im sitting here guessing wut am i doing to my life so i feel like share w my sorta theory

in nowhere section, alessa's hospital room after one cutscene you can hear a strange sound resonating in your ears

kinda scratching inside braincase

as it turned out, this eerie soundrack (BLESS AKIRA AND HIS MUSIC—) accompanied us for the rest of location

it's almost funne how such small detail could trigger neuron activation and lead me to conclusions LIKE THIS lol

the first link of the chain was immediate thought that harry might have a mild headache or dizziness near this place

idk how to explain this properly maybe it's just a vibe ..

but air w h i s t l e s around that hospital bed with blood-stained sheets even though it's empty

as if it keeps remains of some energy trace so far

what kind of ? good question

if you recall dahlia's monologue, it's the place where God had been nurtured for long 7 years, endless pain threshold test and immense suffering for one little girl

A Very Heart of the Nightmare

don't feel like taking it like a bunch of empty, meaningless words so let me be clear – presence of God in alessa's womb could have real, physical effects on environment or even more, living creatures. i imagine it like some kind of radiation emerging out of her body, that badly affects a human condition and reduces lifetime in general

yeah just trying to find the reason why dahlia had turned into an old hag to the moment of the first game in precisely short time and kauffman looks kind of pasty and pale w his yellowish skin like he has a serious problem w liver. other member of the order who were attending the ritual could at least develop chronic diseases

i'd like to remind here the order was a sect of private religion and had really dangerous people in it. their influence grew into various areas of town's life, we already know abt kauffman being the director of alchemilla hospital

lisa mentioned the series of strange assassinations of officials who were intending to bring some economical changes into structuring of silent hill's life, also later we discover abt murders of the drug traffic case investigators – and it can be said they're responsible for all of that

the order operated discreetly to keep existing power structure as it was

one day, lisa garland – the member of alchemilla hospital's staff was appointed to take care of new special patient

should i describe amount of shock she probably experienced? it was tremendously cruel that someone who had suffered burns covering their entire body that far beyond the fatal level – and still struggles to breathe. but since the girl was impregnated she couldn't die, the malevolent deity simply wouldn't let her. so nurse's new duties included making sure that holy mother's body – one big solid open wound – wasn't eaten by larvae

lisa was terrified so much in the face of that new circumstances, even expressed her plea to be out of that business which is totally understandable

even though she begged superior suspend her from that case, lisa was just an innocent resident and good soul. she couldn't offer them more but a honest promise

no girlie, work it

lisa had to handle it on her own without anyone's help, because the less people know about what really happened that day is better. and just one drug-addicted nurse from uninitiated is pretty convenient number to control the situation. moreover judging from the newspaper article, it was believed alessa died in the fire caused by blaze of antiquated boiler in gillespie house's basement

ok can't say why in the game initially exclusively medical staff were among possessed human enemies known us puppet nurses and puppet doctors. but we know during its events cybil becomes the same species as them and red liquid aglaophotis makes it possible for harry to rid her of the parasite's influence and save her life

now i'd like to remark that aglaophotis and ptv are both produced by white claudia – a plant indigenous to the region where silent hill is located

in other hand, this recreational drug is meant to help member of the order to communicate with the spirit guides and spiritual realm

lisa in her diary states she suffered from severe hallucinations that suspiciously clear remind of some otherworld features: insects, blood and pus coming from bathroom faucet. even though the otherworld itself firstly appeared only at the period of game? amount of ptv her organism received only grew over time, maybe it gave her some immune against spiritual realm's invasion and helped visualize true picture of suffering beyond human comprehension in this room

im inclined to think lisa eventually wasn't allowed to leave her work space at hospital's basement at all. guess, it wasn't too difficult for order to manipulate another fact in the face of public to cover lisa's sudden disappear

the thing is, she spent really dangerous amount of time in close proximity with alessa. she felt bad at the first time with constant need to throw up, but i believe her state became only worse because of God's poisonous influence. it caused breakdown of internal organs and gradually, lisa's hair and nails fell off, her skin sloughed off and finally melting flesh dripped off her face and body

and for some reason i was sure the case of lisa's death was drug overdose: by accident or on purpose. but things got more complicated when m. ito confirmed she was actually killed by valtiel. idk what to think abt it maybe an act of mercy ??

so lisa's bloody scene probably was an allusion to her body decaying and falling apart, that is to say, very light version of what could happen to her through the years of nursing her secret patient

and as long as alessa was bedridden for life she was forced to watch how the only sincerely good person in her life turns into a literal piece of meat in due of her mere p r e s e n c e

just by being there, with alessa's body

the order went too far playing with fire, no wonder why alessa acts like this. the only option left for her to prevent the birth of God is destroying the whole town and probably killing every single person in there

because she firmly believed there's a fate worse than death

[kunikinnie]

That Old Feeling

Pairing: Fukuzawa Yukichi x GN!Reader

Almost Blue Series Masterlist

Genre: fluff, pining

Word Count: 1047

Warnings: none :3

A/N: this song was so short I wasn't sure how to cut it but I think it works? HAHA Fukuzawa is so interesting to me yet I have no idea how to handle his character. Gave writing for him a shot anyway lol

I saw you last night and got that old feeling When you came in sight, I got that old feeling

Being the director the Armed Detective Agency required not only dealing with dangerous cases but also several social gatherings with higher-ups in the government and other VIPs. Fukuzawa was not one for these types of affairs, but he has been avoiding attending these for too long that it was hard to turn this one down. It was a rather big event so at least he was able to lay low during the whole evening.

Yet the previous night's events still played in his mind. It was all so sudden for him, after all.

He had never thought that he'd be able to see you again.

The moment that you danced by, I felt a thrill And when you caught my eye, my heart stood still

You were chatting away with some other gentlemen when his eyes fell on your figure. It had been at least a decade since he last saw you. Your expressions haven't changed at all, he thought to himself, but time surely has been kind to you - you aged so gracefully.

He knew you even before he became known as the Silver Wolf. You two were friends - close friends, he might even say - but unknown to both of you there were unspoken feelings right at the center of your relationship. Not a single word came from either of you, and this is perhaps one of the only things Fukuzawa wished he had resolved before walking down a solo path.

The original plan was to avoid talking to people as much as possible, and yet here he was internally debating whether or not he should approach you. Would you be comfortable speaking with him again? Or would you rather forget that such a man as himself existed? Wait- would you even recognize him? It's been so long, after all.

He was so focused on his internal struggle that he failed to notice footsteps approaching him. "Yukichi? Is that you?"

It was your gentle voice that snapped him out of it. How uncharacteristically foolish of him to be taken by surprise like that. "Y-Y/N," he cleared his throat out of embarrassment. "It s-seems you've been well."

"Yes, yes. I could say the same about you myself." The smile that continued to grow on your face made him feel fuzzy.

Once again I seemed to feel that old yearning Then I knew the spark of love was still burning

The more and more you spoke, the more and more he couldn't find the strength to pull away from you. The laughter and jokes you'd throw his way he'd happily receive. He too would share his own stories of the Agency, ranging from serious incidents to absurd adventures (most of which of course feature Ranpo).

If you squint a bit you'd swear that he was wearing a small smile the entire evening, but you're not sure if that's just the effect of alcohol on you, on him, or both of you.

"Y'know," you managed through a slight slur. "Being a director of this agency of yours sounds tough, yet you're in such good shape. Tell me your secrets, Yukichi."

"There's none I know of, Y/N."

You hummed. You thought he'd humor you a bit more, but then again this is him we're talking about. Daintily you swirled the wine in your glass and took a small sip. "Are you... still a bachelor?"

The question threw him off. It was inevitable for you to ask and yet he was hesitant on treading on this topic. "Yes," he said curtly.

Your lips curled upwards, but he couldn't tell what exactly you were feeling. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You're quite the dedicated man, after all."

The silence that hung in the tense atmosphere was nearly choking him. What you said was true: he was extremely dedicated, not just to his job but also specifically to you.

But those feelings he kept suppressed for many years could not let themselves be free.

"...and you?"

He was bracing himself for the worst. Perhaps this was just the closure he needed to hear and he could finally let himself rest.

Instead, you chuckled lightly. It was that very sound that made him fall for you to begin with.

"Perhaps you could say it's the same here."

Your eyes didn't meet his, but the look on them would stick with him until the next morning.

There'll be no new romance for me, it's foolish to start 'Cause that old feeling is still in my heart

"You've been out of it the whole day, President."

Ranpo was lounging on the couch when Fukuzawa entered his office, lazily eating a lollipop and reading some manga.

"I'm a bit tired, that's all."

"Are y'sure it's not because of Y/N?"

His remark made Fukuzawa stop in his tracks. How did he even know about you? Thank God no one else was around to hear this.

"You mentioned their name before, remember? That's the only other time your eyes looked like that."

...was he really that easy to read? His eyes glanced over to the phone of his desk as he remembered you giving your contact details the night before.

"You should call 'em while you can."

"I-It's not that simple, Ranpo-kun." He sighed. It's true that he wanted to talk to you again, but...

"You're scared, no?"

Sometimes Fukuzawa wonders if Ranpo's deduction was actually just mind-reading. But yes, he was scared. He was scared of rejection. Or if even he was lucky enough, he was scared of the consequences of bringing you back into his life. Sure, it's more secure than when he was an assassin or a bodyguard. But still.

The lollipop popped out of the great detective's mouth, making his words clearer than his short comments beforehand.

"President," Ranpo said with serious yet genuine and soft tone. "You should talk to them while there's still time. I don't know exactly what's between both of you, but I don't want you to regret anything. You deserve at least that much."

The earnest look in the younger one's eyes deeply touched Fukuzawa. It felt like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders at his words, giving him the necessary strength for his resolve. "Thank you, Ranpo-kun," he said with a gentle smile.

So many things were uncertain. Your feelings on the whole matter, for example. Would you even be willing to welcome him back into your life? The chance that your paths will somehow merge once again was also unknown.

Yet he was willing to take one small step after another, discovering for himself what the answer to those questions are.

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

The Threesomers

(Jack x Rin x Roland)

Word Count- 4600

Warnings- language, oral sex (m/f receiving), masturbation (m/f), penetrative sex (anal and vaginal), slight alcohol use, use of special abilities (empathic, telepathic, symphokinesis)

A/N- Jack and Rin had everything they could want, especially in each other. A surprise visit from Roland shows them that's not exactly the case. Original Robert GIFs by @vousnavezrienvu new one by @neuroticpuppy love of my life

Rin was giggling as she linked arms with Jack and Roland as they headed back to the cottage. There was a feeling in the air that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

One that emanated from both men equally. That caused her to continuously lock her lips with Jack’s. To dip her tongue far in his mouth while he emitted noises of shock. Roland was left to tap out a nervous rhythm on his pint glass.

Then, as she remembered he was there, Rin would face forward with a secret smile. Jack, distracted by pleasurable discomfort, wouldn't notice as she had reached into Roland’s lap. Her small hand surreptitiously squeezed his cock until it hardened. Her boyfriend was sitting right there, oblivious.

Now she drowned out their banter as they fumbled along the cobblestones. Jack's hand pinched Rin’s ass and she squealed. The atmosphere felt topsy-turvy just to spite Roland’s sullen demeanor. He remained cryptic over his break up with Keevy, citing creative differences.

“That's because she makes music, mate. You just fuck about like you’re wanking a radio antenna. I want to Gaelic folk songs mashed in with glam rock. Not some bloke dressed like a funeral director making a racket that sounds like murdering a baby.”

Jack took the piss most of the night. Including now. The tequila emboldened him. Made him relentless in his pursuit. Roland was, to put it mildly, vexed. It wafted from him. Rin felt the steady growing timpani drums that lined his blood as it boiled.

“Says the homeless schizophrenic who pretends to speak with the dead and terrorizes families at their loved ones' gravesites.”

The air grew thick just then. Jack clenched his jaw and squeezed a handful of Rin. She grimaced. His only response was to yank her away from the other man and to give Roland a wide berth. He started to speed up while yanking his girlfriend along.

Rin was overwhelmed with embarrassment coming from both men. That flirtation in the pub. Her sexual urges were inclinations that she siphoned right from Jack into Roland and vice versa. Under the weird jealousy (from the medium more than the musician), was desire. A confused one, but there all the same, from her partner and best mate.

Jack spun around to face Roland.

“You made decisions for a woman you barely knew and THEN insisted that you loved her after MAYBE about a week together in THREE years. Like what the fuck, mate? You put a woman in a situation where she says no and is ungrateful or says yes and she's stuck with you.”

“JACK!!” Rin cried in shock.

“Aint ye the one who took advantage of a woman in a clear manic state post suicide attempt!?”

Jack stepped to Roland. His fists balled his sides. Rin didn't think either of them could fight. Even knew how. She stifled a laugh at the image of gangly limbs and thin bodies rolling on the ground. Then she flushed as that fight turned into something more in her mind.

The Irishman started yelling. A feat Rin never knew him capable of. His anger was often quiet and simmering. But whatever was going on was being filtered through their common ground. The empathic woman they both loved.

Roland persisted, “THEN YE SHAGGED HER AND CONVENIENTLY PRETENDED YE COULDN'T REMEMBER HER!! WHO COULD FORGET WREN?! I'VE FECKIN TRIED!!”

“ROLAND!”

“You're an insufferable cunt,” Jack seethed.

To Rin’s surprise Roland unfurled. His shoulders sagged. He pushed the heels of his palms into his temples.

“The music inside my head that ye play is so sad. It has this weird,” he waved his arms around, “fake happy harmony. That makes ye a selfish bastard. You've got a home and a family and love. That's it mate love. How can ye take advantage of it? That's all I want is someone to lo-”

Roland’s words were cut off by Jack all but smashing his mouth into the musician’s. He had the Irishman by the lapel of his leather coat while the kiss deepened.

Roland’s hands searched for anything to do so they settled on Jack's hips. One found its way to the back of the medium’s head. Then their mouths parted leaving the men to stare at each other on the poorly lit path.

Rin let out a strangled sound of both desire and envy. She longed to be between the two men. All hands and mouths and tongues and bodies sharing each other. So a thought came to mind.

“Boys,” she took each man by the hand. She plugged herself back into their lascivious feelings. “Let's play a game.”

---

“What do ye mean you've never danced with anyone?” Roland looked at Jack, incredulous.

Jack sat on the couch with Rin at his feet. She was, for a lack of anything else to do, painting the fingernails on his right hand. She had all but given up on the threesome she had proposed when they came home.

There had been more kissing, but Jack let his nerves take over. He wasn't quite as eager with Roland as he had Rin back when he was new to her. Both the musician and the empath knew it was because Jack was just awakening to it. The feelings he might have for another man, other men in general. This was literally his first experience.

Roland could tell as easily as Rin that Jack enjoyed it. Not only physically by the stiffening in his jeans, but the music around him became lighter. Roland had taken that to match the music coming from the radio they had found inspecting the living room. Their kisses followed suit: soft and sweet.

Now as they sat opposite ends of the couch, Rin literally had him in her hands. She sent tendrils of calm from herself into Jack. Reassurance that it was alright. The knowledge that Roland had done this before with other men. That her partner could be sexually attracted to more than just her gender.

“Nothing ever comes up when I'm called for dancing with Birdie,” Jack's moniker for Rin. “We aren't exactly crawling with wedding invites, Rolo.”

Roland stood up and held his hand out to Jack, “Right on then; I'm an expert.”

Jack’s shoulders had relaxed but his fuzzy eyebrows were now lost in his bangs. “Whot? Dance with you? Don't you reckon we’ll look like two scarecrows?” There was a smile in his question though, and he took the proffered hand.

Roland pulled Jack off the couch and into his arms. “Of course it won't exactly be like dancing with Wren, but we’ll make due. Yeah?”

The music changed to Regina Spektor while the men figured out positioning. There was nervous giggling, a sound that was like a shot to Rin’s veins. Better than any street drug or anti-psychotic she had been prescribed by shrinks who believed she was broken. That Jack was broken. Roland could easily hide his gift, to funnel it into a career or teaching.

“It's musical empathy and kinesis,” he answered before Jack had a moment to ask. They had settled with their hands on each other's waists. The music bending into something with a steadier beat.

“How does it work?” Jack allowed Roland to sway them both back and forth. Their hips found a rhythm with ease.

“I hear music in everyt’ing. Every living t’ing has a melody. I can use music like Wren can manipulate emotions. I also give it to other people.” Roland’s voice trailed off as he pressed his forehead to Jack's, “Can we kiss again?”

Rin was overwhelmed as she watched the two of them. Her heart raced whole she saw their tongues dart back and forth. She felt a pulse take up between her legs. It was like she couldn't control herself as she began to create a friction against the cotton of her panties while the two men switched to more of a grind than a sway.

Roland grabbed Jack's ass so that he was forced to feel the erection he had created beneath the Irishman’s pants. A moan escaped Jack before he did likewise to the other man. Their kisses grew more aggressive with tongues that delved as far as they could.

Rin fingered herself now. She matched the zeal of their mouths. She let out a loud gasp mixed with a squeak that startled the men. Men who forgot she was there who now watched as she masturbated with her head back. Lost in herself now more than them.

“Care t’ join us, love?” Roland asked. His voice was thick.

Rin opened her eyes and flushed while she got to her feet. Joining them, the woman opted for standing behind Jack. She remained silent as she reached around to lift his shirt up. Jack raised his arms so she could remove it completely.

Then she ran her hands down Jack's raised arms and over his sides to his lower half. She undid the button on his jeans and unzipped him. Rin tugged them and his boxers to the ground so that he was naked.

Jack's breathing grew heavier and more ragged. He had no way of hiding his erection now as it twitched and came alive in Rin’s small hand.

Roland’s gaze lowered so he could watch as she let her grip lazily pass up and down the shaft of Jack's cock. He bit his lip and shifted on his feet as Jack reached around to hold on to his girlfriend. His head hung back like hers had been while she touched herself.

She stopped and took his hand in her own. Together, they repeated what Rin had done to Jack but with Roland’s clothes this time. Except she let her boyfriend do most of the undressing. Let him take off Roland’s shirt. Rin undid Roland’s pants, but Jack removed them and his underwear.

Only Rin remained clothed as she pushed herself in the space that had opened. She took each of them by the cock and started her strokes once more. Her fingers tightened around their erections equally. Rin twisted down the length to their balls where she squeezed and moved back to the heads. Her thumbs both pass circles around their foreskin and the slits underneath.

Jack and Roland shuddered and groaned. Above Rin, who continued to knead them nimbly, they began to kiss again. Moans of pleasure passed between them as their hips bucked under her hands. The friction she created became unbearable in the most delicious way.

The young woman felt her cunt grow slick over the sounds the men were making. The power she felt with a cock in each hand. The way she poured a bit of herself into Jack and Roland. Then each one into the other. Like mixing drinks or candy from the pick n mix. They were Whiskey and rum and tequila. Perhaps wine gums and Maltesers and fairy floss.

It had been so long since Rin had felt Jack overtaken by insatiable hunger. It wasn't that he didn't crave her sexually, he had found a way to keep it at bay. This was new. A part of himself that had been deprived through no one's fault.

Rin was growing bored of no honest inclusion. She let go of the men and turned her back to Roland. Her warm lips found Jack's chest and stomach. Soft pink tongue carved a path in the indentation from his navel up to his sternum. Rin let it flick at one of his nipples before she bit it. Her grip on Jack's shoulders to push him to his knees.

Jack gazed up at Rin while she stepped out of her panties. His large hand around her thigh got lost under her dress. His fingers explored deep inside her walls. Pumped in and out a few times while making a hook. Jack's middle finger probed Rin’s clit in fluid circles. It went unspoken how pleased he was with her wetness.

Roland meanwhile was slowly unzipping Rin’s dress. The sensation of his light touch on her bare skin up the course he had just followed down. He kissed her shoulders and her neck while she reached out for Jack's head to hold.

The Englishman pumped away at her as the Irishman massaged her breasts. His calloused fingers took in handfuls; tugged at Rin’s nipples until they hardened like his cock in her back. She leaned into Roland now that his thumbs began to trace wildly over her nipples. His motions matched the way Jack attacked that bud of nerves just inside the hood of her cunt.

Almost as quickly as they began, they stopped. Roland looked down at his friend and her partner on his knees. “Jack. Why not have a lie down? You take care of Little Bird,” Roland turned her face towards him so he could kiss her briefly, “let her sit on your face?”

The musician clipped Rin lightly on the chin. She smirked. Both she and Roland glared at Jack in such a way either indicating a desire to kill or fuck. Roland reached to palm Rin’s cunt with his hand, eyes never left Jack's who was biting his lip at the two of them.

“Roland will suck your cock,” Rin promised. A girlish grin came to her face as she bit the tip of her manicured nail. “It'll be fun.”

Jack obeyed without hesitation. He laid down on the shag carpeting. His cock at full attention; he was eager. He was filled more with the anticipation you get at the top of a roller coaster. He trusted Rin, loved her unconditionally. He couldn't believe it, but Jack trusted Roland too.

“You alright, love?” the empath asked.

Jack nodded enthusiastically, “Buzzin’.” They both laughed.

Rin was kneeling beside her boyfriend. She let her lips mingle with his. Their tongues danced ever so slightly before she crawled over Jack's face. Her fingers gripped his head again and pulled it upwards.

Instinct took over and Jack's tongue ran along Rin’s slit. He lapped at her a dozen times: long strokes and then small ones over her clit. She started to rock her hips into his face. Her grasp tighter as Jack's tongue worked deftly. He created a vacuum on the outside then dove his tongue further inside than ever before. A back and forth began that switched from sucking on Rin’s cunt and her clit.

Roland took to straddling Jack's shins so he could lower himself forward. His mouth found the medium’s stomach. He let his tongue trail along Jack's skin that quivered each time Roland exhaled. The man under him breathed in and held it when the musician finally licked the head of his cock.

Jack’s reflexes took over. He held on to Rin’s hips helping. His own body lifted off the floor. Roland allowed for the entirety of the cock to hit the back of his throat. He sucked hard as he raised his head back to release the shaft. Switching to take long licks along the length. Then he made swift little swirls around the tip.

There was a dance the two men found themselves in. Rin had a fleeting thought that she wasn't doing enough. That she could take turns between her touch and Roland’s mouth. Which was absurd to think as she felt herself begin to orgasm. She did well to not tighten her thighs around Jack as a reaction to the pleasing convulsion that started to course through her.

Just as Rin was about to cum completely, Jack's mouth stopped. He pushed her back from his face so that she was situated on his chest. He sat up and interrupted Roland as well. He knew, knew if the Irishman kept going he would explode too soon in his mouth.

“What's wrong?” Roland was confused. “Was it too much? You alright, love?” He used the same affection with both his friend and her partner.

“Our little bird is feeling a bit left out.”

“Crikey, left out? Any further north in her twat ye could've seen Scotland.” Roland winked.

“Steady on, Music Man. I mean left out from being with you.”

Jack sat up so that Rin was again positioned between the two men. Roland took to showering her shoulders with kisses. His facial hair tickled her skin until goose pimples raised up along her arms.

The medium followed suit with Rin’s breasts. His lips treated each nipple like her clit. Teeth teased them erect as his tongue went ‘round them at a dizzying speed.

“Fuck!” Rin cried out. Her one arm embraced Jack as she hooked her other backwards around Roland. Her small fingers caught in his curls.

“Would you be alright shaggin me a little. Just to the edge like I did you? Then you want to give Roland a go?”

Jack searched Rin’s eyes. She nodded with enthusiasm. “But are you sure? About Rol and me? You’re not gonna go all weird after?”

She held Jack's cock and taunted him with her slit. Her pelvis rolled painfully slow until he was fully inside of her. Rin started to grind back on Jack.

“You can fuck me too, Jax,” Roland had Rin by the waist to guide her motions.

He pulled her back so that he knew Jack was buried into her up to the hilt. Then forward and back. Now the rhythm, the dance, was the two of them. But Jack joined in by lacing his fingers with Roland's so the two of them could manipulate Rin’s body with total control.

The empath cried out as the men built a friction between her cunt and Jack's cock. His body shook, but his eyes never left hers or Roland’s.

Roland, who kissed her while Jack watched. Their fingers still linked with one hand as Roland’s other found its way around Jack's neck so that he could be pulled into a kiss as well. The three alternating tongues between them. Jack's body bucked wildly; Rin knew he was at that proverbial edge.

“Fuck me,” she exhaled in Roland’s mouth. Her neck craned at weird angles like her body to accommodate each man’s mouth.

“Go on then,” Jack instructed, “fuck her.”

Rin was bewitched by the smell of sex and the taste of herself on Jack's lips and the tribal bass of whatever Roland projected into the air around them. She was drunk on the heightened emotions as she arranged herself on all fours in front of her friend.

Roland knelt behind Rin with his cock in hand. The his free hand firm on the curve of her body. He teased her cunt with the tip as if it was his finger. Felt her grow even more wet under his touch as he lost himself inch by inch. He twisted his fingers cautiously in Rin’s hair before plowing into her. All the while Jack underneath sat back on his elbows to observe.

Rin let Roland bang her. He always loved control. Not in the dominant way. In the Type A personality way. She let him do that now, control her. Ram against her ass with his pelvis. Release all that frustration he had giving himself up for Keevey. The compromise he made to do what she wanted which triggered his self preservation. He was fucking that pain away.

She was an instrument for him to play. Aggressively so as he slammed into her with the same fury he played that stupid theremin. His grip an inch thick in the fat that cushioned her. His cock slid in and out of her with ease the way his fingers flew up and down the antenna. Fluid. Without hesitation.

Jack was in awe. His own cock remained stiff while he studied the way Roland rutted like a wild animal. Rin’s breasts as they swayed back and forth. Her teeth biting her bottom lip so hard it might bleed as she panted and cried out. The way she struggled to remain upright.

Jack was fascinated by it all. He absently reached down and yanked on his erection while watching the concentration on that Irish face. The twisted rapture on that feminine Welsh one. Their bodies made an audible slapping sound over the music. The Englishman’s wanking joined that chorus.

It wasn't very long. The theremin player was so boisterous Rin knew it would happen soon. That she would make herself cum knowing what Jack and Roland longed to do. Her cunt ached at the thought. Between Roland’s sudden explosion inside of her as he growled with satisfaction and the picture she created of the two of them in her mind.

Rin removed herself from the situation and climbed, drunk on overstimulation, to her feet.

“Why don't you lot snog a little? I’m just gonna pop off and get us a wonderful potion my beautiful broken man will need. I've got some tucked away for special occasions!” Rin giggled and stumbled towards the stairs.

“What?” Jack laughed.

“She means lube,” Roland informed him.

He cupped Jack's face and kissed him. Their tongues lingered together long enough for one to nip at the other’s. An eagerness started inside of the medium. One to learn and please as he remembered that first time with Rin.

Jack laid Roland back on the carpet and crawled on top of him. Their mouths never break as their tongues continue their strange tango. Uncertain what to do as he now let his tongue glide down over the Irishman’s neck, Jack reached for this cock.

Roland had been flaccid, still recovering from getting off with Rin. Now he shuddered and came to life in Jack's hand as his collarbone became showered with kisses. He exhaled a heavy moan when that hand rubbed quickly over his shaft. There was nothing for Jack to learn with Roland. A cock was a cock.

Rin came back in time to see the men on the floor. Jack settled between Roland’s legs that were bent at the knee. His hand expertly jerks off the musician whose hands were splayed across Jack's back.

That hot mouth and soft lips Rin knew well were moving down towards Roland’s stomach. She sat down beside them just as Jack swiped his tongue now over the head of the cock in his hands.

He was testing the waters. Rin was sending him images, feelings from each time she gave him head. From her view so he could mimic her. Jack lapped at Roland’s erection like he had Rin’s cunt, which swelled yet again as she bent to kiss her friend. Her tongue and Jack's worked in unison.

Roland started to spasm, his hips had a mind of their own as they reacted to Jack taking more of his cock in.

“Jack,” Rin said, full of love and lust, “love he's gonna cum. Are you ready for that?”

Jack looked up at her and shook his head. He raised up on his arms so he could kiss Rin. Then he looked down at Roland, “You’ll both have to show me how to do this.”

Rin opened the little tube she held and requested Jack give her his fingers. She added some of the jelly to them and gestured at Roland. “You’ll have to get him ready like you do me. Think of it like fingering a twat only..”

“Tighter,” Roland finished for her. He bent his legs in a sort of frog position. Rin was impressed by his flexibility.

“That's debatable,” she teased. “Go on love, one finger and then the other.” Rin laid down and propped up on her elbow.

Jack reached to find the hole. Roland gasped but happily not out of shock as Jack slid his finger inside. In and out a few times, hypnotized by how quickly he treated it like Rin’s body. It wasn't much different he thought to himself as he added the second finger.

He pumped his fingers at a constant tempo. Further each time with Roland encouraging him. Jack went quicker, deeper as he locked eyes with Rin. There was a fire in her he hadn't seen that spurned him on.

“A bit more,” Roland groaned.

Jack obeyed and watched as the Irishman shivered and contorted like Rin when he managed her GSpot. Was this it? Men had one too? No wonder they liked getting fucked here. Why would women?

“Now lube your cock, and do the same.” Rin found a way to kiss Jack. Then Roland. Her own fingers followed along with her boyfriend’s as she played with her clit.

Jack sat up on his knees and took a generous handful from the bottle. Rin smirked beside Roland who could only bite his lip and stare at Jack's cock as he stroked it harder. He pushed down on Roland’s knee so that he was spread further apart. The young woman flicked at herself faster, her fingers getting lost inside of herself.

“Steady on, sweetheart.” Roland could only moan and anchor himself on the medium’s thin hips.

Jack started to deliberately thrust his shaft inch by inch inside of Roland. Rin was right, it was tighter. But that didn't stop Roland from encouraging Jack to go further. He was alright. More than alright he cried out.

“To the hilt, Jack,” he whinged.

So he complied. His hands under Roland’s ass to lift it upwards as he dove in. Jack's pelvis met Roland’s body and he rolled his hips so that he was nearly out of the other man. Then slowly inside of him one more.

The medium was gentle. Soft and careful like he had been with Rin, or so he thought. Well, at first. Until Roland took to begging him to fuck harder. Faster. So Jack pumped at him until their bodies made that symphonic sound of bone and skin and cock and ass.

Rin fucked herself harder. Her fingers worked her clit at the same wavelength as Jack fucked Roland. She knew it was happening for all of them. Her back arched off the carpet and her cunt contracted around her fingers.

“FUCK!” she squealed.

That white hot volcanic explosion tore through her and Jack and Roland. The three of them connected in an endless cyclical orgasm. Rin sent out those tendrils, the filaments of experience so that the men she loved knew what it was like to cum as a woman.

The same, as whatever song crescendoed in their heads, for Rin. That salty liquid that spilled from her men, her Irishman and Englishman, felt like it was pouring from her walls too.

“Blimey, Aderyn!” Roland laughed as Jack collapsed on top of him. He scooped both of them up in his arms and held them to his chest. A kiss on each of their foreheads before nuzzling his own into Jack's.

Rin and Jack shared breathless little kisses. They locked fingers, and he lifted her small hand to brush his lips across the back of it. The light reflected something shiny and gold.

“Birdie, where’d ya get that ring?”

Rin held her hand up and flexed her manicured fingers. “Isn't it DIVINE?! I found it on the floor in our things. I think someone left it here, but we can ask Mrs Barrow. It's such a lovely little diamond at the center of this gold flower.”

“It's not too small?” Jack propped up on his elbow.

“No! Look at the two hearts beside the beautiful daisy. Whoever it was loved this ring and his partner very much.”

Roland had the biggest grin on his face, “Go on then Jax. Do it proper. One knee and all.”

“Jack?”

“I had a question to ask."

[avengerswriter4eva]

6. Consequences

At too-early-damn-o'clock the next morning, I found myself being summoned to Agent Hill's office. I was a level five, but I reported directly to the Deputy Director due to my specific...skills. And she didn't even know about AV. I thought. That's what I get for thinking.

"Brock." It wasn't a greeting or a welcome of any kind. It was a warning. Deputy Director Hill barely glanced up when I entered her office, gesturing with a few fingers for me to close the door behind me. I did. She pointed to the seat across from her, and I slumped into it feeling extraordinarily nervous to be sitting here. Agent Hill rarely came with good news – it usually means that one of my projects had become a dumpster fire, but I was on top of all my work, and I had no idea what this was about.

"Good morning, Deputy Director Hill." She finally looked up from her paperwork, glancing at me long and hard while sipping her coffee.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" She picked up her pen again, turning her eyes back to the paperwork in front of her. I cleared my throat.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" I caught the hint of a smirk at the corners of her mouth that I pretended not to see.

"I got a notification yesterday that you seemed to be doing quite a bit of research on Agent Romanoff." I blinked and bit my lip, trying to think of something to say.

"I...uh..." Agent Hill waved off my excuses absent-mindedly.

"It would appear, however, that you aren't the only one." I frowned. What did that mean? She gestured towards a file folder on the corner of her desk closest to me. I picked it up, opening the cover, seeing my face smiling back at me. My personnel file? I frowned.

"Ma'am, I don't understand..." She sighed with exasperation, finally plopping her pen down on the desk, resting her elbows on the surface and folding her hands as she caught and maintained eye contact.

"Your file was requested. Avenger's level clearance." I scowled. That little...she was doing exactly what I was trying to do.

"Was it N...who was it?" I rephrased my question more diplomatically. There was that smirk again.

"The requestor is unclear," Agent Hill began, raising a hand to stop me before I could even think about interrupting, "However..." I paused and felt my heart drop to my feet. "That's not the reason that I really called you in this morning." I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever was going to come next. And then I fell out of my chair. Nothing could have prepared me for that.

....

Five hours later, I was 8 whiskeys in, and the bar was looking like a comfortable place to sleep, just for a moment. The bartender kept trying to wipe the bar under me, and after a while, I gave up even trying to pretend to move out of the way. He sighed and wiped around me, instead. I groaned when I saw two agents walk in the front. It was time to move on, for sure.

I settled my tab, exiting out the back to avoid the unpleasant and unnecessary small talk that came with being a...person.

We are better.

Than people? In general, of the species? Agreed.

Hungry.

"You just ate the other day, bub." I rolled my eyes which resulted in a general body roll due to the whiskey that nearly had me falling over. "Was the head not enough?'

Head is for texture. Crunchy. Body is for feeding.

I...really didn't need to know that. I jumped at the wall, and nothing happened. I know that nothing happened because I ran into it with my face. Seriously? "Come on, AV."

Sorry. Didn't know you were ready. I rolled my eyes. Even my symbiote was lying to me now.

"You totally did that on purpose. Do you want to eat or not?"

Yes. Sorry.

A murderer, a carjacker and a major case of acid reflux and heartburn that I didn't want to acknowledge given my diet later, it seemed as though my friend was full-ish, and I would be allowed to go home, where I could stick my head into my own toilet in peace.

"Hey." Anti-Venom's abnormally large eyes blinked as we spun towards the voice. I inhaled sharply. No. Fucking. Way.

"What do you want, Red?" I hid behind Anti-Venom's voice. I was drunk. I was also a chicken shit after drinking. Natalie tilted her head to the side, appraising the scene in front of her with a smirk barely evident on her face.

"I've been called worse. I'm pretty sure that I've been called worse by you. Parker." Anti-Venom hissed, exposing our multiple rows of very sharp teeth as our tongue snaked out of our mouth, tasting the air.

"We are Anti-Venom." Natalie nodded slowly and smiled.

"I know who you are." I chuckled – Anti-Venom's chuckle was downright eerie, and that was the entire point.

"You saw the file." It wasn't a question, but I was confused by the confused expression that appeared on Natalie's face. She frowned as she looked up at me.

"What file?" Oh shit. Drunk both of us had fucked up. I looked up at the wall hoping that my friend wasn't going to allow me to run into it with my face again. "Parker...Venom...Anti...whatever...wait." Natalie's voice behind me sounded strange – almost desperate, which was simply not like her at all. I crossed over the ledge onto the roof, dropping out of sight. "Shit." I smirked. She still cursed the same. Like a sailor and usually in Russian, her English expletive caught me slightly by surprise. I allowed AV to run around for a while until I was relatively certain that I couldn't possibly have been followed. I leapt across four more rooftops before crawling into the window I always left open – on the opposite side of the fire escape. As I slid under the glass, the transformation back to human-shaped began, and as Anti-Venom departed, so did the indigestion, thankfully. I grabbed a fresh bottle of antacid from under the counter, chugged it as I kicked of my shoes, my pants, and my jacket and only barely managed to screw the lid back on before collapsing onto my bed face-first and drifting off into an exhausted sleep.

...

I woke up to the smell of coffee. I sat bolt upright in bed, and I felt Anti-Venom rippling around my skin, ready to protect me from danger. We fashioned a blade out of my right arm as I tiptoed towards the doorway, glancing down the hallway towards the front of the apartment. Everything was still dark, but the kitchen light was on. And now I could smell not only coffee, but something else. Something food-like. I hugged the opposite wall as I moved slowly towards the kitchen, glancing around the corner. Green eyes glanced up at me from my kitchen bar area as familiar red lips sipped hot coffee out of one of my favorite mugs. My eyes opened wide.

"Sweet fuck, Natalie, what the fucking hell are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you too, Parker."

[guigz1-coldwar]

'A ghost in town': New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

'A ghost in town'

"Question...is your turtleneck good-looking enough for me or not, Park?

Chapter Summary: Yirina & Park are both surprised & shocked to learn that Harry Stone that they killed in Cuba 2 months ago wasn't dead at all as another surprise awaits for them...

Link of the Picrew used !

To read it on AO3, click here!

Words : +3200

Taglist : @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry Stone...If there were a name that we didn't want to talk or even heard now was this particular one but this is what came out of Park's lips after she hanged up the phone, looking at me with the most confused face I could have ever seen and me, I was following the same mood inside of me, shocked & confused at hearing this. I didn't see happen but it was clear, Park, me & SAS lived what happened that day in Cuba, I'm the one pulling the trigger on Stone's gun who killed him, and....how he can be alive? I shot him!

I think I never saw Park standing up from her seat in a fast move, her chair hitting the wall behind it almost brutally while she took back her jacket and quickly walked out of the room with me, trying to copy her moves. It was better for me that I don't speak at all during the whole walk as looking at her, seeing her fists clench all along the way, almost ready to punch anyone that was going to step in front of her, and frankly, I prefer to not be that person.

She was walking this fast that around the hallways of the building to join Zasha's team office that it was sort of exhausting, her not stopping at all or taking a simple breath to calm herself down with me and it's with that attitude that when we arrived in front of the door leading to our destination, she opened the door widely, nearly at the point that she could have removed the door from its frame.

"You better hope that's a joke, Sarah!" She started, her hand pointing towards Sarah who was standing near Peter's desk, him sitting on his chair as Zasha & Portnova were here too, waiting for us, and leaned against the front Sarah's own desk. "I don't like to joke on that," She added.

"Hey, I'm not saying anything funny, miss Park," Sarah defended herself, putting her hands above her heart.

"You don't know how much I'm not that pleased to hear that, if it's a joke, it's not fucking funny," Park warned her, sounding very serious, a voice that could kill everyone around her...including me.

"Calm down, Park," I suggested, stepping between the two in the case as Park wasn't removing her angered face against Sarah, having to put my hands on her chest to make her fall back. "Anger isn't helping, calm down, okay?" I said, looking at her but that face wasn't getting away.

"Yirina, it ain't a joke at all," Zasha's voice intervened, making me turn my head around to see them crossing their arms as Portnova had her both hands together. "She showed us the proofs," They added, gesturing with their head towards Sarah.

"Is it right?" I asked nonetheless to Sarah, keeping Park under control, calmer than her.

"Miss Grigoriev, what we got isn't making us laugh," Peter spoke up, tapping his finger on his desk at a slower pace.

"I saw it happened: I shot Stone in the shoulder through mine," I protested, seeing him looking down at his hands.

"That wasn't Stone at Cuba, miss Grigoriev," Sarah called me out as she handed to me a medical report of Stone when his body was taken from the Cuban compound. "Here's one of the proofs we got," I took her file in my hands, checking up, and by looking at it, everything was looking clean.

"What's wrong with that?" I demanded, confused as I gave gently the report to Park who looked it up.

"You didn't see what was wrong with it?" Sarah raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms at me as the others were staying silent to me & Park as if they wanted us to guess the answer on our own.

"The blood type..." Park muttered in a low voice as she lowered the report in her hands along with her body slides. "We didn't even check the bloody blood type," She continued, sniffing away in anger before she throws hardly the report on the ground, the others not moving an inch from their positions.

"The blood type?" I narrowed my eyes, avoiding the report at my feet, to look at Sarah.

"Stone's blood type is O+, this report said that it's A-," Portnova was the one who gave me the answer. "The person that you killed in Cuba wasn't Stone but a double," She continued, going off the desk but staying near Zasha.

"Even if we did multiple checks, that detail managed to be hidden," Zasha told us, the palms of their hands moving to grab the side of the desk they were leaned on. "We send a copy of this to the director but also the SAS,"

"How did you discover it?" Park demanded, seemingly calm in her voice but I prefer to stay near her in case, seeing her fists still clenched.

"I was crossing around some report until I was given something," She replied, Portnova putting her hands on Sarah's desk to grab something and gave it to me, it was an envelope...'For the Majesty's Secret Services from Perseus'...that was marked on it with a marker pen, and then, I took my hand inside the envelope and take out a picture. "That's what makes me curious," My eyes went wide at seeing that picture in black & white.

On it, we could see Lukas Ritter but he wasn't alone at all. Near him, a man was wearing some glasses with a sort of leather jacket, hands up pointing towards Lukas and..the third man was none other than Stone himself, wearing the very same military outfit he was always having in those pictures of him each time my eyes were on them...but also in the memories he was involved in. The picture was having a date on it, it was taken one day ago...in London.

I kept the picture in my hands as I showed it to Park who wanted to take it inside her hands but she was looking ready to tear it apart, judging by the face she was making. I even had to get my right hand on her left shoulder to keep her calm at the moment before she took a deep breath, looking away from me and the others to sit on a chair that was near Peter's office.

"The MI6 wasn't the only one that was sent that picture," Sarah explained as I gave her back the picture. "We've got a phone call from the MI5, saying that they received it too," She added, moving to get back to her desk, Zasha & Portnova moving aside to be next to Zasha's office door.

"When Sarah received that, we decided to check up everything we got on Stone and we found a lot of things with him," Peter elaborated, getting himself well in his seat. "We concluded that Stone is still alive,"

"Yes, that's mean he's becoming again a priority," Zasha breathed, scratching the back of their head, looking at my feet. "That shit...dammit," They cursed.

"Did you know anything about a double, Portnova?" I asked Portnova, knowing that she was the third one in the room that could tell us more about him since she worked with him in her time in Perseus.

"No, that's the first time I heard of it," She responded in a serious voice, shaking her head as her hands were on her waist. "That wasn't something we would have heard of, Stone always been a man making his things away," She commented.

"That's always been like him," Park's muffled voice was heard through the palm of her hands as she was holding her face. "Faking his death, I know that and he did the trick again," She stated.

"How's that?" Peter questioned her with curiosity.

"One year ago, we got signs of a criminal mastermind in Leningrad and I was sent there to investigate," Park started, removing her hands away from her face as she slowly turned her head around to look back at everyone. "Stone was at that time, hidden under the nickname 'Janus' and he knows that I was going to be the one that the MI6 will send," She sighed before going up from her, rather better than a few minutes ago. "He made his revelation to me...and since, he became one of the MI6 top targets until we ended him...until now,"

"How a man like him can always escape from us?" Peter demanded, sounding & looking confused.

"Because he's thinking higher than us, that's the thing," I answered like that to him, crossing my arms and walking to lean myself on one of the walls of the big office. "I know him too and he wasn't very friendly, thinking for his own," I complained, biting with my teeth the left part of my bottom lip, a bit distraught by that news as I lean my back against the wall near the door leading to the hallway outside. "Apart from that, any other bad news?" I asked.

"We finally found who was this I.B from the transmissions," Zasha exclaimed, getting mine & Park's attention to them who gestured towards Sarah with their head.

"Name's Ingo Beck, a former operative of the Diensteinheit IX turned Perseus agent years ago in 1981," Sarah replied, adding to her words, tapping on another file looking like records as Park moved to get to it. "Said to be an explosives expert with a big sense of humor," She scoffed, her tone not looking funny for Park who looked at her with a deadly glare. "And...Uhm...he seems to be involved personally with Stone,"

"So, our I.B was an East-German operative...like Ritter," Park whispered, her eyes on the file.

"We discovered it inside another envelope that we received," Peter spoke up, grabbing another envelope on his desk and he showed it to us...'From a friend, take care of it'...this time marked with a red pen. "We make some research about it but nothing about who has sent this one...and the other one,"

"Nothing?" I said.

"Nothing at all, Yirina," Zasha responded at me, shrugging. "I tried to..." They tried to say before they were cut by the sound that was coming inside their office. "Wait, I think that someone's calling me," They thought before they moved to walk away, opening the door of their office and closing it behind them.

"Perseus sent to the MI6 and the MI5, picture of Stone to taunt us that he isn't dead and in London...and someone else sends to us, a file explaining who is this mysterious I.B," I basically resumed the entire situation now, actually trying to figure out anything wrong from it. "Dammit, how is this fucking possible? What Perseus is planning?"

"A lot of inexplicable things," Peter suggested, raising his shoulders.

"Petrov trying to kill me, sending Ritter & Beck in London and now with Stone, something's big is going to happen," Portnova recalled us, making a brief resume of the situation...now much worse than we thought. "In two words, we're in deep troubles,"

"Soon, the whole MI6 & MI5 will be on high alert so..." Peter talked until he was cut off by Zasha's door getting opened, having finished their call apparently.

"Yirina, Park, you're needed," They said and the first thing we did was to look at them with narrowed eyes, surprised. "A CIA agent is awaiting in your office right now," They added and by that, I was immediately having my blood froze in place...fearing the worst.

"Did he tell his name?" Park asked, eyes on me but her voice directed to them.

"Said he goes by 'Alex', that's all," They responded before Park passed her hands through her hair as I took a relieving breath...not so relieving after hearing that a CIA agent was in our office.

"Shit, we're going, we're talking about that later," Park sighed before she decided to walk away from the office, following her and leaving the others.

If the day wasn't going to be shitty enough, learning that Stone was still alive after all and that mission in Cuba, discovering the true identity of 'I.B', there was now a CIA agent that was inside on our own office just above us and even if it wasn't Hudson or even Adler, questions were flowing in me & Park, wondering what's the CIA is doing in London and why they wanted to see us in particular...maybe me...

Park was seeming calmer in appearance but deep inside of me, I knew that she was very tense that her anger could maybe appear again at any moment, it was like the first time I saw her angry like that...it was the first time I really saw her angry after all and I wasn't confused about it, knowing the history between her & Stone, that anger was understandable for me but now, is that meeting with this CIA agent was going to be good or wrong?

When we approached our office, the door was already widely opened, two men who were wearing the same type of clothes as Adler and guarding our own office, making us feel that we weren't at Century House in here. When the agents saw us arrived, they let us pass and we could see a man that was a bit taller than us, waiting near Park's desk, his face with some scars on his left part.

"You must be the famous Helen Park," The man started, his eyes focusing towards Park and his voice not looking very...happy.

"Yes, and you?" She asked, a bit curious.

"I'm Aleksander Smirnoff...but for you both, call me 'Alex'," He replied as I moved to offer my hand for a shake, staying polite above all but instead, he refused to hand over his hand to me. "I'm sorry but not shaking with woman, I don't like that," He told us.

"And why that?" I narrowed my eyes to him, getting my hand back along with my slides. *

"Because I have my reasons, that's all," He responded in a harsh tone, looking at Park with a deadly glare as she was moving at the other side of her desk, causing him to move away from it and getting next to me. "You know why I'm here, right?" He demanded to both of us.

"No, it wasn't said to us," I answered, crossing my arms as I lean against my desk, Park sitting in her chair.

"Well, to start, we got wind that one of the MI6 top targets faked his death," He revealed in a normal voice, getting his hands around his waist.

"Uhm...how did you know that?" Park questioned him, surprised that the CIA was already aware of the situation along with me.

"It was pretty simple: the CIA has ears & eyes everywhere in London," He said, turning around to look at me with a not trustful look.

"You, in the CIA, can't avoid spying on your own allies...typical," I mumbled, finding this type of move very something that the CIA is doing everywhere....fucking typical. "You'll never change, that's for sure," I added.

"Maybe what we're doing is to make sure that Perseus isn't making his moves everywhere, we're working with our allies, not spying on them, that's different," He corrected me but I was unconvinced by them, used to the CIA's lies against me. "Oh...you must be Yirina Grigoriev...the one that we call...

"Don't say that name," Park called him out, pointing her left index finger at him.

"Always been like that, miss Park," He sighed, looking at her with desperation. "Was it with that attitude that you caused the death of some of my friends in the CIA months ago?" He asked in a normal voice, pointing at her.

"What are you telling right now, Alex?" She demanded, her hands on the armrests of her chair, looking ready to get up very fast.

"Are you the woman who likes to..." He stopped himself to look at me with a smile. "Well...to play & manipulate like a little witch?" He finished his question and that wasn't something I liked and her too, going up from her seat to reach him.

"Park, don't," I stepped myself in front of her, putting my hand against her chest again to stop her in her walk, her fist already clenched for a punch. "He's trying to make you angry, don't cross that line, please," I pleaded, saying it silently at her, looking at her.

"Yiri, if you just..."

"Don't, please," I cut her gently in her words, pleading again, my hand feeling like struggling to stop her to move forwards in her path.

"You can hold her as much as you want, ain't going to stop her," Alex added in a normal voice again.

"If you can just stop what you're doing, it will help," I advised him, feeling inside of me that I could be like Park and doing it by myself. "Why are you here, to be frank with us?" I asked him finally, not looking at him.

"I'm here because I wanted to remind you of things," He started, hearing him walk away as Park was not removing her eyes from him, allowing him to know where he was in the room. "The CIA will be working on Stone, pleasing you or not," He said.

"I thought that you will stay focus on Perseus at Verdansk, right?" I muttered, finally turning my head around and keeping my left hand on Park.

"Let's just say that Stone's sudden reappearance did make us willing to make what you weren't able to do," He sounded a bit joking in his voice, feeling Park's chest struggling to get away from me. "And besides, you both are still under our watch as we're now chasing a ghost in town,"

"What do you mean?" I mumbled, narrowing my eyes at him as he was going to walk away from the office, standing in front of the door.

"As I said, the CIA has ears & eyes everywhere in London," He told us, making us remember his words earlier before he decided to get out of our office, his presumed friends guarding the door following him until they disappear from our sight.

"You should have let me hit him," Park suggested in a serious voice, her right hand moving gently above my left one.

"It wasn't going to help you and you're not the only one who resisted about it," I then move my hand away from her chest before looking down at our feet, a bit confused. "I don't want to see you angry, that's it," I whispered.

"I'm sorry, it's just..."

"Don't tell me, it was just to test your nerves, it's okay," I exclaimed, cutting her again gently. "With what we heard & learned, I can understand your anger," I continued, taking a deep breath while staying at the same spot. "Listen, this situation isn't really good but we're going to make sure that things came back right...including putting Stone back where he belongs," I proclaimed, passing my right hand through my redhead's hair.

"I know, we should stay calm...I should stay calm, maybe some coffee will help," She proposed and I nodded, looking back at her with a little smile on my face. "Do you want one?" She demanded at me.

"As it's nearly noon, we can maybe go out with Zasha & Portnova for lunch," I suggested to her and she nodded too, looking at her watch and seeing that it was almost noon, as I said to her. "If we can just go out and try to depressure a bit, it can be better, right?" She nodded again, a smile forming on her lips as I was wondering where we could go...

"Why don't we go to a Burger Town?"

[artificialqueens]

Gimme Love, 1/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Welp! I started this back in March. It was supposed to be a oneshot and then I realised it was 200 odd pages. Whoops! Another songfic based on music by Joji. This one is Gimme Love, which some of you would probably know, it was circling TikTok for a while. Anyway, more song fics to come!! I hope y'all enjoy! Stay safe in these crazy times!

TW: Mental health, panic attacks

1993

"OK, so you got your apple juice, your finger sandwiches, and grapes. And most importantly, you got your best outfit on. Ready?"

No. I wasn't ready. They were going to eat me up. I knew just by how the 3 bitches off to the side stared and laughed. One of them was swinging from the bus stop pole. It sounded evil, but I hoped she would have fallen over.

"No." I clung to my Mother.

"Brianna." She uttered. She was tired, already having dealt with this before leaving the house. And it didn't help that Grandpa only laughed instead of helping out.

"No!" I said louder, squeezing my tiny fists into her shoulders.

"Look. Everything will be fine. The day will fly in, trust me. And I'll be right here when you get off the bus later." Mom continued.

She gave me a kiss on the forehead and shook me off.

As she smoothed her skirt down, I stamped my foot in a huff. For me, this was the second most ultimate betrayal that had ever happened to me. My Mom was making me go to school. How dare she.

"I love you, girl. Be good and have a great day." Mom said before walking away. My gaze followed, feeling the faucet in my eyes turn on. I was prone to cry baby behaviour around this age.

Now that my Mom was gone, it was all game for the bitches.

"Awww, the little baby needs her Mommy." One of them cooed in her fake voice. "Didn't you know the pre-school bus picks up two hours later?"

"Yeah!" Another decided to join in, "And I bet that's not even your real Mommy."

"She is too!" I clenched my tiny fists at my side. This was half true. I was an adopted child, but to me, Roberta was the best Mother I could have ever asked for. And no one had the right to question that.

"No, she's not! Your real Mommy didn't want you 'cause you're ugly!"

"Yeah, look at your hair. It looks like a fur ball."

"And your clothes are obviously hand me downs."

I stamped my feet again. "That's it! I'm giving you the finger!" I flipped them off. I picked it up from Mom, from the many time's drivers pissed her off. When she'd warn me never to do that, I knew it had some sort of power to it.

But it did nothing. The girls just laughed even more. I had no defences; therefore, I was left helpless.

The bus pulled up, and I was last to get in. The girls warned almost everybody to watch out for the "girl with the weird hair".

I moved down the middle of the bus, my head moving from side to side, hoping to find a seat.

Everybody with a free seat either put their bags on the chairs or put their feet up. I wanted to snap, demanding that they let me sit. But the fear inside rendered me silent.

I was nearing the back, where the 3 girls sat. They smirked upon seeing my face, relishing in the fact I was on the verge of tears. All I wanted was to turn back, get off the bus and lock myself in my house.

But as if someone above heard my innermost thoughts, that's when I heard it.

"Do you need a seat?"

I looked towards the voice. And I froze. There she was, an absolute angel. She looked like a Disney Princess with her bright blonde hair and blue eyes.

I hesitated for a moment. But the bus began to move. So I sat down next to her.

"Hi," I said.

"Hey." Her eyes were observing me, looking me up and down. And I felt even more stunned. "You have funny hair."

"My Mommy says I have lovely hair," I replied in defence.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way. I just never seen hair like that." The girl replied.

My hair wasn't even bad. I just had a massive head of untamed brown curls. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Then again, I had never seen anyone with hair like hers. She looked like she had gone to a salon beforehand. "Your hair looks golden."

"Thank you." She smiled. "I'm Blair. My favourite colour is yellow, and I wanna be a singer when I grow up. How about you?"

"I'm Brianna. My favourite colour is pink. And...I wanna be a politician someday."

"What's a pola...polatichon?" Blair asked.

"A politician." I corrected her. "I don't know what they do. They just shout a lot. And that's what I want to do."

Blair had no idea what I was talking about, but she laughed anyway. And that made my heart skip a beat.

I felt something pelt the back of my head. I grabbed it, looking at the small rolled up bit of my paper in my hand. It was wet. I had just been spitballed for the first time.

Blair looked over her shoulder, and I did the same. It was the three bitches from the bus stop. They weren't even hiding their giggles.

"Not nice." Blair stuck her tongue out at them. Then, turning back around in her seat, she put her hand on mine. "Don't worry about them. I'm your friend, Brianna."

"Really?" My eyes brightened.

"Of course!"

As much as that statement had made my heart soar, how it made me feel like there was nothing to be afraid of…

It was the biggest lie I heard that day.

As soon as I got off the bus at the end of the day, I waved to Blair, unaware that she would be sitting with the 3 bitches the next day.

And then it went on for years, being that ugly girl with weird hair. And it didn't help that I needed glasses later in life.

But I wasn't completely alone. So let me tell you about Jujubee.

2020

"Hey, asshole! I'm pulling in there!"

Jujubee was hanging out the driver side window, flicking the indicator aggressively.

"Juju, can you just...not do that?" I asked, my eyes glued to my phone as I checked how many people had seen my Instagram story. It was a picture of the two of us, showing off our outfits that had been gifted from Alexander McQueen.

"And let that asshole steal my spot? Absolutely not." Jujubee protested. She flipped the guy off, only to receive the same gesture back at her. She wasn't prone to behaving like this. I usually found it absolutely hilarious how loud she could be.

Now, you're probably wondering - two well-dressed ladies in their Alexander McQueen outfits should be seated in the back of a limo, sipping champagne.

I wasn't a fan of limos. They only drew attention.

And with Jujubee hurling dog abuse at the other drivers, I was sure the attention would be on us.

But we made it to the event without any trouble.

Jujubee was hilarious, intentionally and unintentionally. I learned that all the way back on my second day of school. When it was clear to me that I wouldn't be friends with anyone else, I ventured off on my own, exploring the playground and looking for bugs. But, instead, I found her sitting alone in the sandbox.

"Leave me alone. I'm trying to dig to the centre of the Earth." She had said, blowing her shiny black hair out of her face.

I knew she would only reach the bottom of the pit, so I laughed, and I helped her dig. We had been inseparable since.

We grew up together, all the way through elementary, high school and college. And through those years, we had one thing in common - we were the weird ones. The kids who everyone bullied.

Ugh, I hated that word; bullied. It made me feel pathetic and helpless. Jujubee and I, however? We were far from pathetic and helpless. After all, how would we even be where we were if that was the case?

OK, maybe I was pathetic and helpless growing up. No, I was. I had just accepted all the name-calling, the shoving, the damage. Jujubee, on the other hand, would fight against it all.

But back to the current situation. We were now sitting at a table with the other project workers. Everyone was having a great time, and the event hadn't even really begun yet. They passed jokes around, talked about trials and tribulations, and I laughed along.

But I may as well have been alone as I was stuck in my own thoughts. How it was even possible, we were all gathered here for this moment.

I looked at Jujubee, sitting next to me, and felt an overwhelming need to hug the shit out of her. If it weren't for her being so encouraging, then maybe this wouldn't have happened.

"What's up?" She caught me staring.

I lowered my head for a moment, breathing a laugh out through my nostrils. I didn't want to get sappy with her, even though she deserved my gratitude. My best friend, my ride-or-die bitch. Lifting my head again, I smirked. "Nothing. I'm just glad you're on this team." I raised my glass to her before sipping the bubbling champagne.

"Proud of you bitch." Jujubee reaching over and squeezed my free hand.

I was proud of me too. Because, despite all of the shit I dealt with in school, here I was, the manager and director of this whole operation.

All of the hard work paid off - years of trials and tribulations, so many arguments and disagreements. We finally did it. We found a gateway to another world, a parallel universe, a portal in the middle of the space just waiting to be explored.

Of course, people doubted me. They said things like, "Well, it is a dream, all right." How could anyone blame them?

But here we were.

The speaker, Michelle, called me up onto the stage to receive a certificate, all encased in a glass frame. I exchanged air kisses with her and graciously took the award. Jujubee cheered me on as I stood up there, letting people take pictures.

And then came the obligatory speech.

I couldn't lie; I hated public speaking. It was always something I struggled with. But, I never backed down from one. I just liked to keep them short and sweet.

"Long story short, I had dreams, and I worked towards them. So, here I am, an example of the walking embodiment of success. And I thank each and every one of you, ladies and gentlemen. Have a great night."

Short and sweet. The crowd applauded.

Yes, I was told in the past that I'm arrogant, but I disagreed. I'd say confident. And there was nothing wrong with confidence. After all, there has been a stigma around that word. Doesn't it come from a sense of insecurity, the need to tear successful people down because you're afraid to strive towards your goals?

I deserved to feel this successful, for all those times I was laughed at and ridiculed. I look down on all those assholes and let them know that I made it.

I posed for pictures as I held my award, knowing they would be everywhere the next day; in the papers, magazines, the Internet.

This wasn't the first award I had received. I had a shelf full back home, along with all of my past badges. They reminded me that, once upon a time, I was just any other office worker with her yellow badge. And now here I was, the director of the project with my black badge working closely with the government.

I got off the stage and moved back to my chair. Jujubee rolled her eyes, but her smile remained.

"Where's the after-party?" I asked as the audience shifted their attention from me.

Sometimes I never understood how she put up with me. "Don't worry. I got us covered."

She wasn't lying. A few hours later, we were in the apartment of some other rich somebody. Music was bouncing off the walls, the speakers apparently on full blast.

The main lights were out, replaced with multicoloured LEDs dancing around the place. It was as if we were in our own private club.

Jujubee and I were in the crowd dancing, but because I was absolutely wasted, I lost her many times.

No need to panic, however. Jujubee wasn't a drinker. So she'd find me. She always did.

I really did feel sorry that she had to deal with all of my shenanigans.

"Juju, where the fuck are you??" I roared, not that it would do much. Midsummer Madness by 88RISING was blaring now. Starting to stress out now.

I grabbed a champagne flute as a waiter walked by.

"Brianna, I love the dress." A woman leaned over and shouted in my ear. I had met her before at another event, a fashion reporter if I remembered correctly.

"Thanks. It's Versaci."

As I said earlier, it was fucking Alexander McQueen. I was faded.

Somehow I ended up in the bathroom, throwing up all the alcohol I had consumed into the toilet. After I finished, I washed my mouth out, looked at my reflection and said, "Baby, you're a star."

And somehow, I made it back downstairs. I was searching for Jujubee but found someone else instead. And it was fucking Ed Sheeran.

"I love your new song." I lied.

"Which one?"

"The new one." I smiled. "Hey, Ed. You wanna be the first person to go through the portal?" I wrapped an arm around him.

He looked absolutely taken aback. "Of fucking course. My manager will be in touch."

I really hoped he was joking. Why the fuck had I even suggested it?

I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Jujubee. My nerves settled, and I leaned closer to her. "Let's go outside."

I had no recollection of making it out to the balcony. The only thing I remembered happening before then was rambling to many strangers about how much I adored Jujubee.

A few other party attendees were outside too. I wanted to tell them how I didn't deserve Jujubee and that she was an angel. But she quickly steered me away.

I looked out over the city, a happy smile on my face.

"Are you having fun, baby girl?" Jujubee asked, using her favourite pet name for me. She sparked up a cigarette. I wanted to ask her for one, having gone from chain smoker to social smoker in recent years. But I was too distracted by the view.

"Yeah. I can feel it, Juju." I replied, looking at my hands. It was almost like I could actually feel it. The euphoric feeling of success running in my veins. "Good things are coming."

"Oh, I feel it too." Jujubee blew out the smoke and followed my gaze. "You know what? Your Grandpa was a great guy. And I know that he's proud of you."

My smile dropped. And I was silent.

I preferred to avoid speaking about things like this. Emotions weren't something I liked to deal with - another difference between Jujubee and me.

Just the year prior, we both went to see Midsommar. During the scene where the main character is having a breakdown on the ground surrounded by the Hargan woman screaming along with her, Jujubee was captivated. She looked almost like she wanted to scream along with them. And as she squeezed my hand and leaned over to me, she said, "I need someone to do that with me." I replied with a quiet, "Can't relate."

I'm not insensitive. I just feared emotions for two reasons.

1. They could be weaponised against me. And as much as I tried not to let the online hate get to me, I knew that if it ever became personal, then it would hit difficult.

2. The most important reason of all; a childhood full of breakdowns and too many emotions.

Jujubee nudged me. "You wanna go?"

I didn't want to. But I said, "Yeah. I'm...so drunk right now," and turned away from the city view.

"Can I be that annoying whore and ask if I can stay at your place?" Jujubee asked, taking my hand.

She didn't even need a reason. "Yes, you can."

We waded our way through the crowd, made for the door and left. And before I knew it, we were back at my place, lying in my bed. I loaned her a t-shirt to sleep in. I wanted to sleep in my Alexander McQueen. But Jujubee wouldn't let me.

We both lay there, facing the ceiling. I could already feel the oncoming suffering. Usually, I loved moments like these, when time became fluid, when I didn't have to worry about how I had even gotten home.

But my head was pounding, and the loud ringing in my ears was the cause. If I was bad now, I'd be dead by morning.

I could feel Jujubee's eyes on me, and I looked back at her. She was smiling, her brown eyes glimmering. "Almost there, girl."

Despite the pain I was in, I smiled back. I knew this whole thing, the thingy, the portal; it wasn't just my dream. It was hers too.

Fuck, I was hammered.

"Almost there," was all I could manage to say.

Jujubee turned on her side and treated me to some cuddly spooning. "OK, go to sleep, loser."

It was straining on my neck, but I kept my head turned, letting my eyes linger for a moment longer. God, I fucking loved that bitch. Nothing was ever going to come between us, and that made me the happiest.

I turned over, my back relaxing against her torso. Then, before giving in to my exhaustion, I checked my phone. The bright light made me squint at first. And the alcohol in my system didn't help matters.

I checked how many people had seen my story now. The number was blurry. So I aimlessly swiped notifications away.

But I stopped at one message in particular.

Blair: Hey Brianna! Long time no speak. I just wanted to say I saw pictures from your thing tonight. Congrats, girl! Look, I know you're probably super busy, but I'd love to have a catch up with you sometime.

"..." My eyes were wide. Now that was a name I hadn't heard in a long time.

1995

"Do you see Cassiopeia yet?" Juju whined.

I was trying my hardest to find it in the telescope. But the stars were all in clutters; there were so many. "No. I think I see the big dipper, though."

"Really? Let me have a turn!" Juju begged.

I pulled away from the telescope, allowing Juju her turn. Usually, I would have refused, only letting her use the scope after finding what I was looking for.

I really hadn't found the big dipper, but Juju bought it. "Wooooow. That's so cool."

"I know, right?" I smirked.

The backdoor opened, and Grandpa came out in his winter jacket, pj's and his signature slippers. "How many have you girls found now?"

He was carrying two mugs of hot chocolate with whipped cream. I cheered excitedly because Grandpa's hot chocolate was the best, and I'd fight anyone who tried to tell me otherwise.

"We found the big dipper. But that's it." Juju replied, sounding very much let down.

"Don't lose hope," Grandpa gave us our hot chocolate, "some are harder to find than others. I bet there are a lot more constellations out there that haven't even been discovered yet."

I sipped the hot drink, and I could feel it already warming me up. I was so tempted to take my gloves off and let the mug warm them up. But we promised my Mom we would stay wrapped up. "Do you think we could discover one?"

Grandpa took a seat on one of the old deck chairs. "Brianna, you can do anything you set your mind to. Anything is possible."

"One day, I wanna get into a rocket ship and fly away," I said, looking up at the night sky, imagining the scene in my head.

"Hey, Mr Caldwell, are there other people like us? Just looking up at the sky?" Juju asked, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

"That's an interesting question. I'd say yes, what with how nice the sky is tonight," Grandpa let his gaze trail up, the stars reflecting in his eyes, "But did you know, somewhere far, far away, there are two little girls who are exactly like you. They look the same, they talk the same and even have your names. And they are doing exactly what you're doing right now."

My brows knit in confusion, "what do you mean 'far far away?"

Grandpa looked down again, seeing how intrigued Juju and I was. "Let's just call it the other world. It's basically like our world, but...certain things are different. Like," he paused to think, "maybe cats bark and dogs meow. Or, maybe the sky is pink and not blue. Maybe you girls are actually older, and I'm the young one."

"Do horseys fly in the other world?" Juju asked with much optimism.

"Probably. I don't see why not." Grandpa shrugged.

I glanced up at the sky as if I would somehow just see it. Another world where life was somewhat better.

"Would my Mommy and Daddy have given me up in the other world?" I asked quietly.

Grandpa was silent. His lips were pursed, forming a tight line like there were words on the tip of his tongue that he knew he shouldn't say.

Juju hugged me from the side. I wanted to hug her back but didn't want to cry.

Her hold made me feel safe, so I offered her a half-smile.

Since my first day at school, when those cretins had tried to tell me Roberta wasn't my real Mom, it stuck with me. Yeah, I knew deep down those girls didn't know shit, and Roberta was the best Mother in the world, but I was only human.

As much as I loved my Mom, Grandpa and other family members, I just wanted to feel acceptance from my biological parents.

"Brianna, honey, whoever your family is in the other world, I'm sure they love you from the bottom of their hearts. Just like we do." Grandpa said. He extended his arms out, offering me a hug.

I didn't want it. But I knew I needed it.

That night, we didn't find any constellations. Not that it mattered. After my Grandpa went back inside, Juju and I were set on finding the other world instead.

And this interest went on for nearly a whole year.

It sounded dumb, but we would play games where we were our 'other world selves'. Juju lived in a house full of cats, and they were 'cutest cats in the whole country. So cute they won every pageant!'

And I lived in a huge mansion with my Mom, Grandpa, and my biological parents.

We collectively agreed that our other world selves were the prettiest girls in school, and we had tons of friends. We were so cool, we didn't even have to go to school.

Of course, this started a minor argument between us. Juju would always say, "how can we be the prettiest girls at school if we don't have to go to school??"

"Shut up, Juju! Anything is possible in the other world!"

"Yeah, but it doesn't make sense!"

All of it was so ridiculous. But we loved every minute of it.

I'll never forget the time we built a fort in the woods at the back of my house, and Juju stood under the archway and shouted. "I'm the queen of 'Other World'. Beware ye bastards who enter our domain!"

Then she got upset because she said a bad word and thought she had betrayed her parents.

A few minutes later, I fucked up.

"I, Brianna Caldwell, am the Queen of 'Other World'. I sit on this throne along with my best friend, Blair St Clair!"

Juju was even more upset now.

"Why is she your best friend?? I'm your best friend!" She began to cry.

"Jujubee, it's only pretend." I tried to reason with her.

"No, Brie-Brie. You're always talking about Blair! I know you would rather be best friends with her than me!"

"That's not true!"

"It is!" She wept. "She'll never be your friend, Brie-Brie. She doesn't even like you."

"Take that back!"

"No!"

My anger was bubbling beyond the boiling point. So I shoved her over. "Go away. Now!"

Juju ran off crying.

My teeth were grit, my fists clenched. For about 5 minutes, I stormed around the fort, screaming in anger and kicking the ground.

Mom was freaked out. She knew it was me screaming, so she came running. When she found me, she shouted at me for scaring the absolute fuck out of her.

This only pissed me off more. It took her 5 minutes to get me to chill out.

When I finally explained what happened, she told me it was OK and that we'd be friends again the next day.

It didn't help my mood, so she took me to the mall. It was a rare occasion for us to visit the place. We weren't the richest, what with Mom struggling to keep a job. She wasn't a lousy worker; someone else would just come along who was much more experienced. And without another parental figure to help out, it just meant not much money was being brought into the house.

But Mom decided we'd go to the toy store, and I'd find two dolls, one for me and one for Juju. I made sure they looked exactly like us. Well, considering the nice clothes and great hair, they were our other-selves.

And leaving the building, I was perched on Mom's shoulders, eating the biggest ice cream cone I had ever gotten, when I looked over at the jewellery shop. Two women were leaving the store, holding hands. They leaned in close to each other and kissed.

I just...stared as they smiled at each other, mesmerised by the adoration they so clearly shared.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, Brianna, baby?"

"Why are those two ladies kissing?"

Mom cast a quick glance to where I was looking. "Oh. OK, first of all, don't stare. It's rude. But yeah, they're just two ladies in love with each other. That's all."

I looked away, just as she told me to do. "They're in love? I thought only boys and girls could be in love."

"I guess they're still telling you that in school, huh?" Mom quipped. "Well, I'll tell you this, but keep it on the down-low 'cause I don't want no parents coming and knocking on my door saying you're putting ideas into their kids' heads." She laughed. "The truth is; boys can fall in love with boys, and girls can fall in love with girls. You fall in love with whoever your heart tells you to, Brianna."

I nodded. "Uh, huh. OK, I understand." But then, it hit me. "Fuck."

"Brianna." Mom warned. She knew I was prone to sometimes spurting a few cuss words. But she only had herself to blame.

"Sorry, Mommy." And as we left the mall, my brain couldn't stop thinking about what had popped into my head.

Maybe, just maybe, I was in love with Blair.

My mind was taking me back to years prior, still in my first year of elementary school. It was coming up to Valentine's Day, and we all had to make a card for someone in the class. Bit of a weird activity for a bunch of kids who were more concerned if they were getting bikes for Christmas or not.

And I slaved over my card, making it yellow instead of the traditional pink colour, and drawing daisies all over it.

The message read, "You really deserve this. You're welcome." I've always been a poetic genius.

And instead of giving it to any of the boys, I insisted it went to Blair.

I had vague memories of that day. I only remembered her confused face as I handed it over.

I never received a card in return.

Of course, the other kids picked on me for it. But Juju had my back.

"You're all just jealous 'cause Brie-Brie's card is unique!" I remember her shouting.

But of course, they weren't jealous. This concept was foreign to them - a girl gifting another girl with a Valentine's Day gift. But then again, they just didn't know any better.