#makes some new pieces with miranda in mind

[randommirandyfics]

There was this fic I read awhile back where I think Miranda owns a retreat and invites Andy to stay there, where feelings start happening. The twins show up a little later, I think. If I remember correctly, there's a spicy/romantic scene in the kitchen. Not that I think about it, there's a plot point where Andy's secretly a well-known artist and Miranda has a piece Andy painted hanging in the house without knowing it. Haven't actively read these two in ages, but having the urge to read a little Mirandy, and not sure that I ever finished reading that one. Any ideas? Either way, thanks for running this tumblr! It's been a great resource, and one of the reason I started thinking of Mirandy again :)

(・・?)

[neo-nomatrix]

The Olive Theory

Luke Castellan x Reader

word count: 641

summary: Strawberries are your favorite thing in the whole world, luckily for you Luke seems to “hate them”

a/n: based on the olive theory from himym

@repostingmyfavs

There are two things you truly love in this world: Luke and Strawberries.

You often find yourself helping the Demeter and Dionysus kids in the strawberry fields, despite your actual job being at the infirmary. Miranda often scolded you for taking strawberries for yourself during the day, you didn’t mind though. The sweet yet tart berry was worth it.

Your obsession with the fruit grew even further. You begged the dryads for extra portions during dinner, pairing them with yogurt and melted chocolate. Your least favorite part was having to sacrifice the berry to your godly father. You debated giving something else to him but everyone at camp and above knew your love for them, there was no running from it.

Luke was well aware of your passion for strawberries. Going as far as joking that you love them more than him. You both aren’t quite sure if it’s a joke or not.

You sit at a picnic table near the Hermes cabin with luke. You had just sat down with Percy and three shortcakes for each of you. Luke leans over and presses a soft kiss against your temple as you sit down. Percy notices that you can barely acknowledge it since your focus is on the cake.

Both Luke and Percy stare at you in wonder as you eye the desert, they can’t seem to figure out why you haven’t eaten it yet. Impatient, you look over and luke with a wanting gaze.

“Oh- right,” he says understandingly.

Percy is clearly confused by the seemingly telepathic communication. His eyes dart between you and Luke, your gaze once again set on your plate. Luke picks off the strawberries from his cake and places them on your plate. As soon as the first two strawberries are there you start devouring the cake like a ravenous hyena. Percy starts to wonder if you’re even chewing. Luke starts to eat some of his until he stops halfway. He puts the remaining piece of cake on your plate for you. You eat it immediately as if it was there the whole time.

“Are you gonna have that?” You ask politely, eyeing a large, red strawberry on Percy’s plate.

His eyes shift down to where your gaze is settled, “No, go ahead.”

You smile and take it with your fork, biting into it quickly. Percy’s eyes shift back to Luke, who’s been staring at you since the moment you sat down. His face held a small smile as he admired you. You smiled as you licked the whipped cream off your fork.

“I think I'm gonna get another slice!” You exclaim happily, standing up and nearly skipping to where the dryads are.

Luke watches as you leave, eyes falling on your figure.

“I never realized she liked strawberries that much,” Percy said.

“Yeah, I'm kinda surprised she hasn’t turned into one yet,” he laughs quietly.

“I assume you don’t like them that much? I mean- you gave her all of yours and half of the cake,” Percy explains.

“Strawberries? no way, they’re great. But she loves them so much, and I'd do anything to make her happy,” Luke smiles as he nibbles on the remains of one of your eaten berries.

You come back with a widest smile on your face. You hold another cake alongside a cup of strawberries. You sit down, happily eating more of the cake and strawberries.

“Isn’t it so great that Luke doesn’t like them? I get them all to myself!” You say, beaming.

“Yeah,,, perfect,” Percy says slowly, remembering the new found information.

“Mhm; I’d give my girl all the strawberries in the world if I could,” Luke mumbles.

Luke has a single mission in life, making you happy. Even if that means giving up his favorite fruit for you. Your smile is worth much more than a simple strawberry.

[heartdoomed]

heyyy I was wondering if you’d do a lil one shot with Mother Miranda where the reader is her maidservant and they’ve gotten pretty close and Miranda is working herself to death and the maid gently (and eventually a little more forcefully) encourages her to take a break. Lots of fluff ensues 😁 thank you for feeding the fandom you’re my hero 😂

First ask for our fav bird mom! Also thanks i’m a bit late for the party but I will try my best ✨

| Stubborn

Pairing: Mother Miranda x Maid! Reader

Genre: One-Shot, Fluff

Warnings: None

Masterlist

From a villager, to a follower, to a personal maid.

Your journey with Mother Miranda was something you never truly expected, something suddenly but that you held little resentment about nonetheless. Miranda was, and is, a figure you can’t fully grasp yourself into — like a seductive voice in the back of your mind that has no set tune, something that comes wickedly in a natural manner and you just can’t help but to accept as it is. When she first laid her eyes on you, something changed in your life and all of it’s aspects, that woman had cursed you, had you wrapped around her finger the moment she ordered you to serve under her. A high priestess — no, a goddess, and her little helpful subject.

It was a matter of mixed feelings between fear and respect. Sometimes you thought of her with fear, fear for your life and how you have been dragged into this snowscape of a village and into somehow managing to match the high hopes she held for someone so close to her. On the other hand, she emanated glory, a superiority everyone including yourself could see — you found yourself looking up to her, quite literally like she was your only savior, the effect she had on people, and on you, was unmatchable. Soon the duty to serve somehow turned into a feeling of honor, you’ve never felt this fulfilled to have this role.

//////

Your shoes quietly clicked as you made your way across yet another hallway, you always thought of Miranda’s manor as a labyrinth that you’ve grown fairly accustomed to. Dark walls that always seemed to close in with each curve and whispers that coincidentally also sounded like the blowing cold wind from the outer woods. It was cold, tainted by a heavy atmosphere, either your own mind playing tricks or something else rooted between those walls, at some point you felt embraced by the shadows somehow — sickly comforting.

Your hands held a square silver platter, carefully adorned with hand-made details and curls on its sides, so clean and shiny it almost seemed made of crystal glass. On top of it rested a a teapot with warm fresh tea you brewed yourself, herbs that were delivered weekly just as all the food you had access to cook — a tea cup and a plate with a generous piece of layered cake rested side by side. It was her usual snack for the afternoon, just another daily ritual you found somewhat soothing. You enjoyed cooking for her and unlike her past servants you gave her food a touch of familiarity she had missed — suddenly the food wasn’t just delicious but served with a touch of care that she managed to notice, it was rare the occasion she wouldn’t compliment your skills.

Your head became flooded with thoughts of past situations were she did took notice of your hard work; From carefully organizing mail into alphabetical order to amusingly adorning her freshly washed towels into the shape of flowers and bunnies, oh Miranda thought it was quite silly of you but nonetheless this only managed to make you two closer. You smiled to yourself, thinking of how you went from a scared new maid to someone you knew she started to trust, maybe to care? You weren’t sure but you surely knew you ended up caring.

But apparently not caring enough to pay attention to where you where going as you almost bumped straight up against her office doors. Your heart skipped a beat as you halted on your tracks, you held the silver platter closely to your chest and thanked your lucky stars to not have spilled anything out of place, how clumsy. Taking a big silent breath, you raised your hand towards her door to knock before stopping as the familiar voice of Miranda, muffled, but yet clear and sharp enough, came from inside.

“You should stop daydreaming while scattering around, you will end up hurting yourself. Come in.”

She pointed out. You cursed in your thoughts, rolling your eyes at being called out — she always managed to know of your shenanigans even when you tried to hide them, ridiculous. Shaking the embarrassing event away, you quietly opened the door to reveal a much less intimidating Miranda, one you had grown used to. Without her ceremonial robes and her imposing wings she felt much less like something to fear and more like something to respect — a woman with a commanding posture no matter the situation. You remember how strange it felt to see her this way for the first time, it was hard to change your half shocked expression though luckily she found it more amusing than anything else.

“I made cinnamon cake with whipped pumpkin cream and some honey tea… I thought it would be a good match for the entering of this fall season.” You announced before closing closing the door behind you, Miranda hummed at the description but her eyes were still set on the paperwork onto her desk — gosh, how you hated when she fell into her working streaks. Nights awake in her laboratory, continuous days locked into there office. “I… think it’s a good time for a break, no?” You gently offered, resting the platter in a less busy spot of her desk. Still, her eyes kept themselves focused on the countless words in each of the papers she held. It made you irritated how much of a workaholic this woman was sometimes.

“Hmmm, yes, yes, thank you honey—“ She finally murmured.

“Honey?” You asked, your eyes widening in surprise.

“Honey… tea— Oh, you made honey tea?” She asked, finally taking her eyes off her work to look at you. Her eyes were striking and you certainly would be flustered if you didn’t spluttered out a chuckle to which she replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, look who is daydreaming into her work now!” You kept chuckling with a hand attempting to cease yourself. Miranda squinted her eyes at your audacity.

“It is not a simple day dream, it’s my work.” She retorted, her slender fingers precisely organized the papers into a growing pile. “I will eat after I’m done.”

“But!” You attempted to protest.

“I’m almost done.” She justified.

“You said it hours ago when I brought your lunch, to which you refused.” You pointed out, your tone growing more preoccupied, which she caught up to. “Please… You can’t keep working like this.”

Miranda stopped, her fingers resting against her temples as she shook her head with a sigh. That woman was incredibly stubborn, you knew that but so was you when it came to taking care of her well being. Your eyebrows furrowed as you gently took the pile of papers away, resting them into a nearby empty desk to which Miranda stared in disbelief. “I’m sorry, but respectfully — you need rest!” Seething the trail in front of her, your eyes pleaded for her to at least take some time to eat. She could see how worried you were and as much as she wished to keep on with her work, she gave in with a nod.

You almost chirped with happiness upon finally seeing her giving a go at not working herself to near starvation again, gosh this woman was a challenge to aid sometimes but you cared enough to try and you knew that she noticed the effort you put into it.

“Well, honey?” You asked, a teasing smile on your lips.

“Excuse me?” She almost choked on her words, uncharacteristically enough to your amusement.

“Honey tea.” You smugly announced, pouring her some of the delicious golden liquid as she shook her head in disbelief — taking a satisfying bite off the soft cake you baked.

“I don’t know why I still keep you around, you will drive me crazy eventually.” She replied with a grumpy tone, to which waved off a hearted laugh. It was hard for her to hide a smile while also maintaining a decent eating etiquette but at the end of the day she was content to have someone cheer her up like you did.

//////

AN: This was so funny to make! I feel like Miranda is a great softie when you push her buttons in the right way. Anyhow, hope ya enjoy it!

[rallamajoop]

The Complete Guide to Eye Colour In Resident Evil 7

An addendum to my guide to eye colour in RE8: here's everyone from RE7 too! Getting close-ups of these was way harder than for RE8, because RE7 does not come with a model viewer, so I'm stuck using in-game screenshots and promotional images.

Once again, we'll start with the cheat-sheet version:

The whole Baker family: Blue (except when...) Mia: Brown (FOR NOW) Eveline: Green Alan: Hazel/green Deputy OneSceneWonder: Brown Chris: Hazel/brown (FOR NOW) Clancy, Andre and Peter: Brown Ethan: Still hazel

But it can never just be that simple, can it? So, further notes below.

The Baker Family

The Baker family all have blue-grey eyes. In fact, post-infection, they all have the exact same blue eyes (see top line in comparisons below). You could maybe put this down to genetics for Zoe and Lucas, but when Jack and Marguerite have the same eyes as each other too, that's when you start wondering just how many backwater-hillbilly-stereotypes are in play here.

Mind you, they do have slightly different eyes in the pre-mould flashback that is the Daughters DLC, which you can see in the second row above. All are brighter blues, pre-infection, and Jack gets smaller pupils while Lucas gets a slightly larger iris (Zoe gets nothing, as she's the viewpoint PC and we're not redoing her face if you're not going to see it). So maybe we can hope there's some genetic diversity in the Baker-clan (renders of their eyes in their actual faces also look a little more distinct, but maybe that's a lighting thing). Either way, the Bakers = blue eyes! Got it!

And then we meet Uncle Joe in the other DLC who... has hazel eyes?

IDEK, maybe Uncle Joe's real dad was a different mailman.

Once we get deeper into mould-monster territory though, things do get a little more interesting.

Both Marguerite and Lucas appear with much creepier whitened eyes later in the game ‒ Marguerite's during her boss-fight transformation. Lucas, however, remains steadfastly human-shaped throughout the main campaign, but his eyes are whitened in his video message to Ethan, and in his (pre-monstrous transformation) DLC appearances too. Jack, by contrast, doesn't seem to get new eye textures even after blowing off the top of his own head, or in the boss fight that follows (monster!Jack from the fight in the boat house has completely different eyes, of course, and more of them). Mia, too, has her own set of creepy-alternate-mould-monster-eyes, but they're completely different again.

So what's the internal logic here? I could speculate that Lucas' eyes-only transformation is a sign he's in control of himself in a way Jack and Marguerite aren't, but it doesn't quite add up. If anything, those eyes make more sense as something Lucas was given because we never see him transform like Marguerite, or blow pieces of himself away like Jack: Lucas may look human, but the eyes are there to remind us he's not. There'll always be some details that end up being more about effective storytelling than cohesive lore.

Interestingly, though they don't appear in the game, there are also promotional pics of all four members of the Baker family with glowing white/silver eyes, which are definitely a supernatural feature. It's tempting to try and associate the effect with Rose's glowing eyes from the Shadows of Rose DLC, or perhaps even the general pale-grey-eyes of Miranda and the Lords (more on both in my post on eyes in RE8). But that's territory that really needs its own post or we'll be here all day.

Clancy, Andre and Peter

These are the three ill-fated crew of the Sewer Gators tape you'll encounter early in the game. You may notice Peter (rightmost in the pic above) seems to have even more dilated pupils than the majority of the cast. Amusing as it might be to theorise that he's just on drugs or something, I think there is an explanation: the closest shot we see of his face (and the first shot of the tape) is a close-up into a camera while the team is outside in the dark. His pupils would naturally be dilated in this sort of environment.

So why aren't Andre's dilated too? Well, the closest look we get at his eyes (also pictured) are the final shot of the tape, where he's already dead, and his eyes are covered by a red film. Medical plausibility aside, dilated pupils presumably didn't add to the effect here, so Andre gets regular pupils.

Speaking of assets, there is actually one photo of the three of them in the game, from the pamphlet you can find in their van at the start. You can even almost make out Clancy's face!

Clancy's own eyes are their whole own kettle of worms, but we'll get to that below.

Chris Redfield

Is an odd one: I can't share an eye-texture asset for Chris, because he doesn't actually have a character model at all in the main RE7 title. And explaining that one is gonna take some context.

While RE8 renders nearly all cutscenes using in-game models, RE7 stores far more of its major cutscenes pre-rendered in .wmv format. The opening is pre-rendered, video messages from Mia and Lucas are pre-rendered ‒ even the big moment when Eveline blows out the windows of the tanker and throws Mia into the river is pre-rendered. Not all cutscenes work this way, but basically anything that would require loading a lot of assets that aren't needed in gameplay (eg. the view of the river and tanker for outside) seems to have been pre-rendered as a video instead.

And since Chris' only scene in all of RE7 is in the pre-rendered ending sequence, he doesn't have a model at all (or at least, I couldn't find it). We do see Chris in openings and endings of the Not a Hero DLC as well, and the End of Zoe ‒ but these too are just .wmv files, presumably for all the same reasons.

Now, obviously, Chris is also playable in the DLC, so he does have a character model there. But we still don't get eye textures for him for a couple of reasons: firstly, he wears a face-concealing mask that only comes off for opening/ending cutscenes. But even without it, we might just hit other weirdness surrounding player character models...

As I've already noted, both Chris and Mia get completely different new blue eyes in RE8, but back in RE7, Capcom seemed a little more aware that brown or hazel eyes were a real thing regular white people do have sometimes.

A note on player-character models

Although we mostly just see the hands of whoever we're playing as (usually Ethan), gameplay still uses a full-body model, presumably to aid in rendering dynamic shadows, and give enemies something to cover in blood. Things get weird around the character's head, which isn't actually visible so it can't get in the way of the camera floating inside it, but will still cast shadows and still has textures associated with it (though usually in much lower resolution than other models we'll actually get to see). There are three playable characters in RE7 proper: Ethan, Mia, and Clancy (from the video tapes) ‒ each with their own model and textures.

Ethan and Mia also have more detailed 3rd person models, since we see plenty of Mia playing as Ethan, and a little of Ethan playing as Mia (if only from behind).

Why does this matter? Well, distinct as the three PCs are otherwise, their player models all have the same eyes ‒ top row above shows Ethan, Mia and Clancy, in that order. And they look nothing like Ethan's and Mia's eyes have ever looked elsewhere, which you can see in the comparison below.

I mention this mostly because it's pretty easy to find Ethan's player-model in the game files, note those generic-hazel eye textures with it, and go, "hey, you got his eyes wrong!" But these aren't the same eyes that come with his higher-res texture, or the ones that were copied over into RE8. In fact, the existence of the player-character-default-eye-texture back in RE7 is one of the reasons why I do tend to take full-res Ethan's eyes as 'canon', even though we never see them in either game: someone took the time to repaint Ethan's eyes for his full-res model, and make them distinct from the low-res default used for everyone in 1st person mode. That at least suggests there was some real, intentional effort put into deciding what colour eyes Ethan was supposed to have.

This does leave poor Clancy in more ambiguous territory, however: as he's never seen by any other character, he has no high-res model, and thus no eyes but the default-hazel that Mia and Ethan are rendered with in that mode too. So is this to be taken as Clancy's official eye colour? It may as well be, I suppose. We see so little of Clancy in any form that I was genuinely surprised to find out his he's actually got a player model which is completely distinct from anyone else in the game, with curly greying hair, a neckbeard, and a baseball cap worn backwards.

Render by nightsatkendalls over on deviantart.

I do not have the skills to produce a render of this quality myself, but I can tell you that the cap he's wearing has the logo for the RE Engine on the front (the in-house game engine behind all the modern RE titles, and many other Capcom games).

You'll never see it in game, of course ‒ you'd need both a freecam mod and a mod to make his head visible. But it's there as a weird little easter-egg nonetheless.

Eveline

Eveline is perhaps the only character whose model may not have been updated at all for RE8, but given she's only a hallucination or ghost, that stands to reason. In RE7 though, she also appears as her aged 'grandma' self, who pops up around the house in her wheelchair looking spacey. Grandma-Eveline has two different eye texture assets ‒ one far more washed out than the other. There's next to no good official pictures of her, but fortunately, since she doesn't move around or attack you, she was one of the very few characters I was able to get a decent close-up shot off with the free camera mod. And inasmuch as you're ever in a position to look her in the eye in game, only the faded version of her eyes ever seems to show up. Is the clearer version actually used somewhere I didn't catch? I have no idea.

What really stands out about granny-Eveline's eyes, though, is that they don't look anything like her child-self's eyes do. Child-Eveline is basically the only character in either game with distinctly green eyes. But Granny's are hazel, and not even a particularly similar shade of hazel.

In fact, they look far more like the generic-default hazel of the player character textures than they do like her younger self. Close-up comparisons below.

You could speculate that it was deliberate that Granny-Eveline's eyes don't look anything like kid-Eveline's eyes to avoid tipping off the player that they're one and the same ‒ but realistically, no-one without free camera mods is ever going to get a good enough look at either of them to notice. And it's kind of a shame they didn't just take young-Eveline's eyes and apply the same kind of distortions they seem to have applied to the generic-hazel template to age them up ‒ that would've been a lovely, creepy little detail to find in these textures. But no, generic old hazel it is.

Then again, whatever the real logic at play, the fact Granny-Eveline's eyes are effectively a faded, distorted version of the very same eyes the player themselves never does get to see in the mirror is a pretty creepy idea itself. And intentional or not, that's what I've got to leave you with.

[thegamingcatmom]

Do you think Mother Miranda likes swimming?

Additionally, what kinda swimwear would she have?

I love that one. 🤭

Right so, I did mention in one post that she likes bird baths. But swimming? I actually don't think so. Not particularly. It's just so...wet, lol. A different kind of wet than the nice, warm baths she takes then and now.

The only occasion where I could see her taking a quick dive is when her wings require some extra attention. But, even then, it's more of a *flaps her wings aggressively* to make sure the water reaches every nook and cranny. It can hardly be called "swimming".

Much like this. :3

(Crows suck at swimming btw. I looked it up, lol.)

As for her swimwear-

The first thing that came to mind was black and short, lel.

The black fits, but I'm not sure how much skin she'd be willing to show. Probs a lot more with her s/o, but in an open space for everyone to see? I think she's someone who views those things as sacred, also because of the time period she comes from.

Which-

(Source: https://www.visualmood.com/blogs/blog/the-history-of-women-s-bathing-suits-a-journey-through-time?srsltid=AfmBOoo9dOWwAS6SVGe4TMAyEoqkgor2scRiaMANvQRObG4n15MRu-bt)

Ofc I looked that one up too, and it´s really quite interesting.

(I love history.)

Miranda was born sometime in the late 19th century (around 1870 to 1899, probs closer to 1900 though), which means she likely would´ve gone for something that covers most of the body. Just like the Mad Priestess we know and thirst for today.

(She´s so damn fine.)

The only things exposed are her hands and face sadly. Granted, that´s quite the norm for a priestess outfit and doesn´t necessarily tell us anything about her personal preferences, but I still think her swimwear would be of similar design (meaning: full body).

Why? Well, she chose to parade as The Priestess. It wasn´t something that was given to her or decided by the people. She did it because it allowed her to take full control over the village and its inhabitants, ensuring that nobody would question her or her methods.

And why would nobody question her or her methods? Because, back when the village was just a village, the belief in divine beings was strong. There was no technology or modern medicine to rely on, so people resorted to praying in times of hardship (sickness, poverty, crop failure etc). It gave them hope and stability, and Miranda took full advantage of that.

In fact, I wouldn´t put it past Miri to be the one responsible for sudden outbreaks of sickness or the cattle perishing of some mysterious illness. She´d then swoop in as The Priestess, telling them a sacrifice was due (aka: a new specimen to work on), and, SURPRISE-

Mysteriously cured.

BUT, I digress-

It all comes down to her time period, basically. I´d like to think Miranda is a woman who values and clings to the old ways (except when it comes to medicine) and, back then, it was all about modesty. Something we see reflected in pretty much every village woman - they´re covered head to toe.

...And she´s also possessive af, let´s not forget that. I doubt she´d much like if her s/o ran around half-naked. Some things are meant for her eyes only, and vice versa. 🤭

(Miri got high standards that she expects her s/o to follow. I don´t make the rules. 🤷🏻‍♀️)

With that said, I could see her going for something like this:

(Source: https://h5.lazada.com.my/products/women-swimwear-for-girls-one-piece-swimsuit-with-chest-pads-long-sleeve-bathing-surfing-swimming-suit-i2966475023.html)

...She´s mayhaps making a compromise with the legs here.

(And she will deny those puppy eyes having anything to do with that down to her very last breath.)

.

.

.

...Not me being unable to get Miri in a diving suit out of my head now though. 😭🫠

Thanks a lot for your ask! 💋

[andydrysdalerogers]

Cross-Checked ~ Chapter Eight

Andy Barber x OFC Leighton "Leia" Andrews

Summary:

Andy Barber is having the best year of his life. His game is on point. It’s gets to play with his best friend and his fiancé just... dumped him?!. 

Reeling from a sudden change in status, Andy decides it’s time to just focus on hockey. Until his best friend's sister comes out with news that rock the entire organizations world., 

Andy has always carried a torch for the untouchable Leighton but in her hour of need, is now the time to shoot and score or risk getting cross - checked again? 

Warnings: Cheating (but not by the MCs); slow burn; friends to lovers eventually; SMUT!; pregnancy; jealousy; handsome goalies, evil exes...

A/N: The tag list is open!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Banners by me!

Previous: Chapter Seven ~ A Little Boston Magic ~ Andy/Leia

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter Eight ~ Nothing But Lies ~ Andy/Leia

Andy 

I feel like I have been here before.  

I’m pretty sure I’ve been here before.  

The pain in my back is getting worse the longer I stay in this position. I finally pry my eyes open and am blinded with pain. Why is my room so bright? And why am I so uncomfortable? I blinked a couple of times and realized, I’m on my couch.  I slowly sat up. What the fuck happened?  My mind runs throught the previous night. I remembered watching Leia and Jeremy and then heading to the Red Line. I frowned as I remember Stella being there but then, nothing really.  

“Oh, you’re wake.”  

I snapped my head up (which was a terrible mistake) and saw Leia coming down the stairs, fully dressed. Oh shit, there was a game today.  I scrambled for my phone before Leia stopped me.  

“Its ok Andy, its only eight. Practice is at ten. I’m going to make some coffee.”  

I sat back with my head on the cushions. Fuck, being hung over for the second time in three months is not a good look for a captain of an NHL team. I took a moment to breathe before Leia came back in with two mugs. “Thanks,” I muttered.  

“Wanna talk about it?” She took a sip, looking at me.  

“I’m fine.” I took a sip and avoided her gaze.  

“Ok, why are you getting drunk the night before a game? That isn’t like you, Andy.” The look on her face was breaking me. But how can I tell her?  How can I tell her that her new boyfriend is a tool bag and I’m so in love with her, it kills me to see her with her.  What do I say? How do I tell her about what I overheard in the locker room a couple of weeks ago.  

Two weeks ago... 

“That is such a sweet shot you took on Ullmark,” Luke said, laughing as he and Andy walked down to the locker room.  

“It’s all in the wrist,” I replied with the pretend flick of the wrist.  “Are we heading to the bar after?” 

“Yeah, Cubby said she’s be our designated tonight after the game.” Luke high-fived me when they heard laughing coming from the locker room. They were about to burst in when they heard Swayman’s voice.  

“Dude, she had a thing for me.  When I was talking with her on the plane, she was playing hard to get. But I know, she’s into me. I’m gonna ask her out.”  

“You really want to ask out the assistant captain’s sister?” Andy could hear it was Ullmark. “Is that wise?” 

“Why not? You heard Andrews.  He gave his blessing.”  

“That’s because he doesn’t know your reputation.”  

“He knows.  I’ve been with him at the bars and stuff. He was just as bad before he met Miranda.” He heard him chuckle. “I just want a taste. She is sexy as hell and I can feel like she is a devil in the sheets.”  

“You better make sure that Barber and Andrews don’t hear you talk like that about her.”  

“What is Barber going to do? He’ll ruin his friendship with her which is ok by me. I just want a piece of her. Fuck her and leave her. Make it look a mutual thing so there’s no bad blood. Trust me, I’ve done this before and I’ll do it again.” 

It took everything in Andy to restrain Luke.  

It took everything inside of Andy not to tell Leia. 

Present 

I lied.  

“Fiona called and she was trying to convince me we should make another go at it. I told her to fuck off but it messed with my head. Got to drinking to numb the feeling.”  

I lied big time.  

“Oh Andy,” Leia came to sit next to me and held my hand.  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.” She leaned over my shoulder. “She is the worst.”  

I never wanted the feeling of her body pressed against mine to ever stop. “Yeah, I know. I’m not even sure why I answered the call.” I am a complete asshole for lying to her but the truth would hurt her more and I can’t do it. 

“Well, I’ll be home tonight after the game. You don’t fly out until tomorrow so we can relax tonight, ok?” She gave me her smile, the one I go weak over.  

“It sounds like a plan, Princess.”  

I have to remind myself that he is my teammate and I can’t fuck with that. It would screw everyone else and I can’t do that.  

But boy, do I want to.  

Practice went as practice goes but my head was not in it. Warm ups for the game are the same and I know everyone can see it.  Its obvious, especially when Swayman looks at me with concern. “You ok, Cap?” 

“I’m fine,” I mumble, lacing up my skates. “Leia told me what happened.  Thanks for helping her.”  

“It’s no problem.” He frowns. “But everything’s ok?” 

“Fiona called.” Yep, maintaining that lie. “It just got to me. I just want to skate.” I pushed past him and start taking laps on the ice. I know Luke knows the lie because Leia told him. But I can’t face him. I can’t face anyone. My heart is broken right now and I just can’t do it.  

The game is a tire fire right from the start.  

I can’t focus. I just see Leia and Jeremy and the happiness on her face and it makes me sloppy. So sloppy that coach has to bench me in the third period, probably for safety reasons. I sat there, watching the game, knowing that if we lost this, it would be my fault. Luckily, Luke was able to take control of the team and pull out the win.  

I was sitting in my stall, trying hard not to show emotion. I just wanted to go home and cuddle with Leia. I just wanted to be with my girl.  

Fuck.  

She's not mine.  

I’m still totally fucked.  

Leia 

15 Weeks 

The last few weeks with Jeremy had been amazing. He is such a gentleman. We had the road trip right after for ten days and Jeremy made it a point to sit across the aisle from me so we could talk. He would carry my bag when we got off and made sure that Stella and I are safely in our rooms. In the mornings, he would bring me a tea, make sure my gloves were on and then hang out if he was done for the day.  

We would go out every couple of days, some days I just can’t from how tired I was. I still hadn’t told him about the baby.  I spoke with management and they agreed to modify my duties but it was up to me on who I told.  I love the Bruins.  

The only thorn in my side is Andy.  He’s been distance since my first date with Jeremy. Not just distant but angry even a little hostile.  I’ve noticed that sometimes he is sharp at practice with his teammates, especially Jeremy. Its so unlike him.  I decided to text Luke to see if he knew anything.  

Leia: Do you know what’s wrong with Andy  Luke: No  Leia: You are so helpful  Luke: Seriously, I’ve asked and he says nothing  Luke: You know Fiona called  Leia: its still from that?  Luke: I guess so  Leia: I guess I’ll talk to him to see what’s up 

I frown at my phone. Its near 8 pm and Andy still isn’t home. Its weird for him not to come home after all of his meetings and stuff but lately he’s been coming home later and later. Sometimes, especially on days when I got out with Jeremy, I won’t see him until the next day.  I decided to cancel plans with Jeremy and head home.  I sit in the living room, reading when I hear his car pull up. He walks in. “Oh, hey.” 

“Hey Andy. How was your day?” My voice is super sugary sweet and Andy narrowed his eyes at me.  

“What’s going on? Why are you talking to me in your ‘I’m pregnant and don’t feel good so can you help me’ voice?” Andy crossed his arms over his chest. Normally I would find this very attractive, because he’s still in a dress shirt and slacks, and fuck, focus Leia! 

“Just realizing that I haven’t seen you around much.” I smiled softer at him. “I missed hanging out with you.” Andy snorted and went to grab a beer. He had been drinking a little more than usual. “What? Don’t you miss hanging out with me?” 

“Of course, I miss hanging out with you.  I didn’t realize that you and Swayman were not serious and that you would be home more often.” He took a long pull.  

“Jeremy and I are fine. What is the matter with you?” My tone was sharp.  

“Me? I’m not the problem. I’m giving you space to grow in your relationship.” He raised his hands and move towards the stairs. “I’m going to bed.”  

“You can’t do this Andy.  We live together, we’re roommates...” 

“Yes, Leighton, we’re roommates. Doesn’t mean I have to share everything with you or acknowledge your relationship.” I could feel the tears forming in my eyes.  “Oh, here we go, the crying.”  

“You’re being such an asshole right now Andrew.  You are not like my best friend right now.” I wiped at my eyes furiously.  

His face turned angry. “A best friend? You want me to be a best friend to you. Fine! Jeremy is not this great guy you think he is. He’s a douchebag and a womanizer. He’s going to hurt you and you’re just planning your entire future with him and your kid.”  

“You’re just jealous because I’m finding happiness with him. I’m moving on unlike you!” 

“That’s rich, moving on. You’re not going to move on with Swayman.”  

“That’s not your decision!” 

“I’m not deciding anything. Its facts; you’re not going to find what you are looking for with him.”  

“Stay out of my life Andrew. I’m happy and that’s all that should matter.”  

“He’s going to hurt you and I’ll be left to pick up the pieces again. Just like your high school boyfriend and just like Bret.  You can’t even see what’s right in front of you. You keep choosing fuckboys when you could have something better.  I don’t know why I would think you would look at the bigger picture with Swayman. He’s a fuckboy hockey player just trying to sleep with you so he can say I fucked my teammates sister. You are just a warm body to him and you’re too stupid to see it.” His words vibrate against the walls and his face falls with realization. “Leia...” 

My heart cracks at his words, his mean and awful words.  “Fuck you! I fucking hate you!” 

I ran past him up the stairs and slammed the door, locking it behind me. I slide down to the floor and sobbed. I’ve never had a real fight with Andy but he’s so wrong. Jeremy and I are just starting. Things are different this time and I know it.   

I woke up the next morning, my eyes sore and raw from crying. Its still early but I can’t face Andy again. I got up to shower, using the hot water to loosen my muscles. As I’m drying my hair, I stand in front of the mirror and gasp.  

Between my hips is now a distinct bump. I grab my phone and check my pregnancy tracker. 15 weeks, one day. My bump popped and now there is no way to hide this. I can get away with it while I’m out because of jackets and scarfs but at work I tend to wear leggings and sweaters. I run my hand over my belly as I stare in the mirror.  Hi baby, I croon softly.  I move to open the door to tell Andy but I stop.  

He lost the right. 

I sneak out the house and head to the coffee shop for my morning tea and muffin. I work on my notes for work when my phone chimes.  

Jeremy: Morning beautiful  Leia: morning handsome  Jeremy: so since we bailed on dinner last night, can we try again tonight  Leia: I would love to 

I smile as I think about the date with Jeremy. And then my smile falls. I don’t know how I can hide my condition.  I have to tell him about the pregnancy. But maybe I should wait.  

Perfect. 

Andy isn’t home when I get there so I take advantage of it and start getting ready. I put on a fit and flare type dress with stockings and booties. My nice coat and scarf will hide my secret until I’m ready to talk to Jeremy.  He’s prompt like always and we head out.  

I’m nervous because this is like date four and every romance book has told me that by now, the man is hoping to get lucky.  And I would, I totally would follow this except I feel so uncomfortable in my body.  Having Andy and Stella tell me all the time that I look gorgeous is just getting to my head. What if he is grossed out about my body? What if he finds me repulsive? My mind is spiraling.  

“Everything ok Leia?” Jeremy smiled at me as he placed his big hand on my thigh. His finger are long and I can feel the warmth, strength and roughness in them.  A hard working man.  

“Yeah, just upset about Andy is all. He’s still being closed off and that’s unusual for him.” There was no way I would tell him what Andy said.  That would be just asking for an argument.  “He’s never been so distant before,” I say before smiling.  “But, I’m going to let it go because I’m excited for our date.”  

“Good.  I was thinking of just going to Lou’s for pizza and North Park has those Christmas lights up. Could be really pretty. “His fingers are dancing over my skin and it feels so good and distracting.  

“Sounds like the perfect night.” God, I am falling hard for this man.  

After pizza, he drove us to the park for the festival of lights. As we are climbing out, Jeremy hands me a soft ball.  I look at him curiously. “Because I know you forgot them.” I open the bundle and its a pair of mittens. I blush because I did forget and I look down.  Jeremy touches my chin to lift my head. I look into his eyes and all I see is kindness.  “Its ok, beautiful. Its our thing.”  

Our thing.  

Swoon.  

As we walk around, all the twinkling lights are setting a mood of romance. An aphrodisiac of scents fills the air from the food stalls. Jeremy gets some hot ciders to keep our hands warm as walk trough. “Ok, Halloween or Christmas?” he asks. 

“Christmas. I don’t like to be scared.” I shudder at the thought. “Plus why does it involve so many spiders and clowns. Spiders are poisonous and they are creepy.  Clowns... well, clowns eat people and just no.” I take a breath and look at Jeremy’s face. His face is surprised and unmoving.  “What?” 

“That is the most passionate speech I have ever heard about Halloween.” He burst out laughing. I huff with mock indignation and cross my arms, hip jutted while he is bent, hands on knees trying to calm himself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says wiping his eyes. “Sweetheart, are you afraid of spiders and clowns?” 

“It’s not funny.” I pouted at him and begin to walk away.  

“Sweetheart!” Jeremy chases after me and pulls me to him. “I’m sorry,” he says with puppy eyes.  

I can’t be mad at this man. “It’s ok,” I say softly.  

“Let me make it up to you.” He smiles. “Let’s go back to my place, I’ll start a fire, some hot cocoa, we can cuddle on the couch.” He kisses me softly. “What do you say beautiful?” 

Shit. He’ll try to touch me and he’ll know. He’ll know and I’m not ready.  I’m not ready for this bubble to burst. “I would love to but I have a six am call with a club in England. I need to be up early and presentable, at least, from the waist up.” I smile.  “But that sounds amazing. Maybe another night?” 

“Of course, sweetheart. I like that you are working to conquer the world.” He kisses my cheek and whispers, “maybe one night I can dominate you and take you to places you never knew existed.”  

I blush as he gives me a sexy smirk. Refusing this man is hard.  

And I don’t know how much longer i will be able to delay it.  

Its been a week since Jeremy has asked me to go home with him and I know now my time is up.  My baby belly is growing and I don’t want to lie to him.  I ask him to lunch and he said he would meet me at a cafe near the house. I bundle up as the falls weather has now turned to the colder side.  It also helps with the bump hiding mission.  I’m putting on my coat when Andy walks by.  “Going out?” 

“Yep.”  

“Princess...” he face falls at the lack of energy in my voice but I don’t want to hear it.  

“Nope.” I walked out the door and drove to the cafe.  Jeremy is sitting there in a hoodie and jeans, his black peacoat over the chair.  He looks like a goddamm snack.  “Hey!” 

“Hey sweetheart!” He gets up to kiss me on the cheek. “Its cold today.”  

“Yeah, winter is coming,” I say with a giggle.  

“Nice,” he smiles.  We order and chat but the more I chat the more i start to get nervous. I mean, how do you tell the man you are seeing that you are pregnant with another man’s baby? Now he can tell something is wrong because he asked me something and I completely spaced. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“Leia, you are a thousand miles away. What’s going on?” 

I take a breath and hope for the best. “I need to tell you something.”  

“Okay,” he says slowly.  “You can tell me anything.”  

“So, I’ve been dealing with some life altering news for a few weeks now and I didn’t know if I should tell you earlier because I hadn’t finished making some decisions.”  

He frowns. “Is everything ok? Are you sick?”  

“No, not sick. Just... pregnant.”  

Swear I feel like a pin could drop and I could hear it. Jeremy’s face froze and I know, this is the end. Finally, he says, “you’re pregnant?” 

I nod slowly. “Yeah, I didn’t know if I was keeping it or what I was going to do but I decided that I wanted the baby.  I’m sixteen weeks pregnant. I told management last week but I needed to wrap my head around it and I needed to tell you because I know you want more with me and I just couldn’t while lying.”  He still sitting there, not moving a muscle. “Say something, please.” 

“Wow.” I blink, not sure what he is going to say.  “I mean, wow, that’s big news.” He takes a long sip of his drink as I try to blink back tears.  

“I understand if you don’t want to keep seeing me...” 

“No, that’s not it, sweetheart.” He takes my hand.  “I just need a moment to process this.” He smiles. “You’re gonna be a mom.”  

“Yeah. Its big but I’m determined to give my baby the best life.”  

He smiles. “Anything I can do to help, ok? Just let me know.”  He cups my cheek. “I believe in you, sweetheart.”  

Its exactly what I needed.  

NEXT

Taglist:

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[hyacinth-sims]

Be Okay

Summary: Tybalt practices for his first piano recital in seven years, and comes to realize what makes it much more emotionally challenging than it needs to be. At least there’s someone to help him pick up the pieces this time.

Warnings: None

Pairings: (Established) Tybalt Capp/Mercutio Monty

Word Count: 3.2k

Author’s Note: okay after hurting them so much they get to be cute together are you happy???!!!! although i’d say it’s more hurt/comfort for tybalt, but worry not mercutio will also get his hurt/comfort moment soon! also tybby is a bit ✨softer✨ here since they’re already dating, granted idk how long they’ve been dating but! i tried to keep a lot of his attitude just y’know…less outright mean since they’re bfs and not enemies here 😭 also i will probs publish the mercutio hurt/comfort piece later this week but after that i’m gonna take a short break cause y’all i have less than a month of this semester left and the struggle is REAL!!!! i’ve got so much shit due every week oml! also yes vendetta has not been forgotten about, but it’s a bigger piece so it’s gonna take some time to plan out. i don’t know if these one shots are “in” the vendetta universe so to say, but we’ll see! 

In exactly one month and one week, Tybalt Capp would have his first piano recital since his mother died. The last time he’d performed on a stage, in front of an audience, had been seven years ago. He was on the cusp of 19 years old now, and the last time had been about three months before the fire. For seven years, he wasn’t quite ready to face another audience—to look out into the crowd and not see his mother’s smile staring back at him. But he wanted to perform on that stage one last time before he was set to graduate for her. 

He was performing two pieces, Nocturne No. 8 by Chopin and Liebestraum No. 3 by Liszt. Chopin was his mother’s favorite composer, and Nocturne No. 8 was her favorite work of his. There was no question about whether he wanted to perform it in her memory; it was only right for him to do so. His second piece was a personal choice, as Liszt, on the other hand, was his favorite composer. He thought about performing La Campanella as it had been burned in his brain from having to perform it in front of his grandfather and his associates, but he wanted to give himself a challenge and learn a brand new piece. 

Liebestraum was also a considerably romantic piece, the title directly translating to Love Dream. He initially told himself that it would fit with the theme of Nocturne No. 8, as that was the song that led his parents together. However, it would be a lie to say that he hadn’t been feeling particularly…mushy lately. 

He wasn’t sure if he would call Mercutio Monty his boyfriend; it seemed like an oversimplification. They also hadn’t exactly talked about things such as labels or terms, but Tybalt didn’t mind much either way. It wouldn’t change anything about what or how they were anyway. 

Mercutio didn’t come to the Capp manor often, but it had nothing to do with whether or not Tybalt wanted him there. Patrizio and Isabella catching Tybalt at the Monty ranch would likely be quite bad, but Grandfather catching Mercutio at the Capp manor? All hell would break loose. 

Grandfather was out of town for a business conference, though, and his sisters were having a sleepover at Miranda’s home. He knew he needed to practice for his recital, but being in a secret relationship due to the fact that your families hate each other has taught Tybalt that every potential moment should be taken advantage of. Besides, Mercutio seemed quite enthusiastic about watching Tybalt play the piano. He did ask to be serenaded, though, which Tybalt refused. 

He let the final notes ring out, cursing himself for the minor mistake he had made prior. “Sounds just as good the sixth time,” Mercutio teased—sitting in a backward dining chair he had pulled up to the piano. He rested his chin on his folded arms, placed on top of the back of the chair. 

“Measure 51 was sloppy,” Tybalt commented with a slight huff, flipping over the sheet music to review as he furrowed his brow. He could practically hear his grandfather commenting on all the tiny mistakes he’d made in his head despite his absence. “I’ve done better before. I need to iron out the mistakes,” He grumbled as he grabbed his pen from the piano desk—circling measure 51 for future reference. 

“You’re overthinking it,” Mercutio answered, shrugging his shoulders. “If you keep looking for mistakes, you’re just going to make more,” He added, “Brute forcing it will just burn you out.” 

There was nothing he hated more than Mercutio being right, so much so that verbally admitting he was right was a difficult challenge. Tybalt was trying, though, choosing to silently put aside the sheet music for Chopin and replacing it with Liszt. It earned a small smirk from Mercutio that was answered with a scowl from Tybalt.

He took his time to look over the sheet music before even pressing on a single key. It wasn’t the most challenging piece he’d ever played, but it wouldn’t be a walk in the park either. Tybalt took a deep breath in before exhaling and playing the initial few notes. It was a ritual for him, an attempt to release all of the expectations and pressure—choosing to let the music take over instead. Did it work? Not very often, but it was nice to try. 

He hadn’t practiced his recital performance in front of his grandfather, not after an argument between Juliette and their grandfather a few weeks prior. It wasn’t often that his sisters witnessed his piano practice, but Juliette just so happened to be doing her homework in the living room. She must’ve been watching his hands as he ceased for his grandfather to point out every little mistake he’d made—and much to both of their surprise, Juliette yelled at Grandfather. It was rare for any of them to stand up to him. For being quite the hothead typically, Tybalt had never once raised his voice at his grandfather. 

Juliette said that Tybalt needed a break, as they’d been going for 3 hours at that point—repeating the same section of the same piece over and over. She pointed out his shaking hands, his tired eyes, and the fact he looked as if he was on the verge of breaking to pieces. When they were alone, Juliette suggested Tybalt practice independently for a while—to be free of their grandfather’s criticism. 

But he wondered if he would ever be able to get better without him watching over his shoulder like a hawk, pinpointing every tiny mistake he made throughout. Much of Tybalt’s determination and improvement came from wanting to make his grandfather proud, wanting to prove to him that he could be the best and that he was worth something to their family. After a performance, ranging from child to teenager, from stage to party, Tybalt always sought out his grandfather’s face first. He wanted to see just a hint of a smile, a quirk of his lips, anything that would show that he was satisfied. 

His eyes stared down at his fingers intently, watching as they danced around the keys. It was similar to how he would watch his mother as a child. Her playing was always so elegant, so gentle—something that never quite came naturally to Tybalt. Tybalt played the piano as if it were anger management, freeing all of the negative emotions that weighed heavy on his mind. It was brilliant for pieces such as the 3rd movement of Moonlight Sonata or Allegro Barbaro, but awkward when attempting to play things romantic and soft—another two adjectives that did not exactly align with Tybalt. 

He was trying, though; he was really trying. He was trying not to be so hardened, so closed off, so defensive. Every single day, he remembered his grandfather’s speech about the dangers and destruction of love, and every single day, he started to feel as if it was the truth. The question remained if he would prefer to protect himself from the pain or risk it all for the happiness his mother spoke of. 

Although perhaps the true question was if he deserved to love and be loved at all. He’d ruthlessly pushed away anyone who ever got close, no matter who they were. If they ever tried to pry, he would hurl insults until they no longer held any interest. He was the antithesis of everything his mother hoped for him to be, in favor of trying to fit his grandfather’s expectations. 

Good people were the ones who deserved love, like his mother and father, who were willing to stand against his grandparents to fight for their love. Like his sisters, who stand proud for their family but would never allow it to overtake their own morals and beliefs. Like Mercutio, who seemed to believe that his purpose in life was to make everybody around him happy—he deserved to be happy himself.

It felt like no matter what he did, he was always going to be disappointing someone. His grandfather, his sisters, the memory of his parents—he would never be as great as he wanted to be for them. 

There wasn’t a missed note, a stuttered section, a wrong key, not a single thing out of place. But none of it felt right. The way he was playing, the sound, everything was off. He stopped in his tracks, a half note playing out before complete silence began to smother the room. His eyes wandered down to his lap as his hands left the keys, his fists tightly clenching—the stinging feeling bringing a strange relief.

He could imagine the disappointing stare from his grandfather already, not a word or piece of criticism leaving his lips. If it wasn’t the minor mistakes to be pointed out, it was always the feeling. It was always the fact that he didn’t believe Tybalt understood the song. There was always something, something that always proved he’d never meet expectations. 

He didn’t notice any movement or the presence of another person until he felt two hands loosely wrap around his wrists, turning them face up. “How have you not stabbed your palms yet?” Mercutio said quietly as he gently pried open his clenched fists, Tybalt staring down at the indents of his fingernails left dead center in the palm of his hand. 

Another one of his horrible habits threatened to be released, insisting to Mercutio that he was very much fine and continued to play. He didn’t want to lie, though, but he wasn’t sure what he could say that wouldn’t leave him crumbling. 

He couldn’t bring himself to meet the other man’s eyes, pursing his lips and staring down at his resting hands. “I feel like I’m failing her,” Tybalt murmured, glancing over to notice the raised eyebrow from Mercutio. “My mother,” He clarified, “She never wanted me to fall into…this, like needing my grandfather’s approval every damn second, inheriting that rage and vengefulness from the feud, refusing to be weak.” He couldn’t help the sarcastic laugh he let out, “I’m doing this for her, but I’m honestly not quite sure if she would be proud of me today anyway.” 

A pair of hands cupped his cheeks and gently turned his head, and there was no avoiding his gaze anymore. His tired, stormy eyes met warm brown that were filled with concern and a sense of worry. Rarely did anyone look worried for Tybalt; they often just looked at him with anger, neutrality, or worse—pity. “Don’t start,” Mercutio said with a frown, “You don’t wanna go down that rabbit hole, trust me…it fucking sucks.” 

He supposed no one could better understand him than Mercutio, having also lost both of his parents quite soon after Tybalt. Being the heir or heiress is probably difficult. Tybalt would never deny that—but he had a feeling that being the oldest was harder. They were both expected to be the protectors, to dutifully watch over their younger siblings without a single crack. They had to live up to the expectations of their grandparents while also being the ones to remember most the horrid loss that led them there in the first place.

They both had to exist solely for a family that would discard them once the heir took over.

“Look, I didn’t really know your mom that well,” Mercutio admitted quietly. Tybalt could remember the few occasions that they had met, but they were quite a long time ago. The first time Mercutio met his mother, he’d presented her with a daisy he had just plucked from the ground—telling her the scientific name Bellis perennis, although mispronounced horribly. Still, it was certainly impressive that an eight-year-old remembered the name at all. “But I do know that she loved you a lot,” He continued, “And she definitely would’ve been proud of you, and I mean…I can say for certain that I’m proud of you, does that count for anything?” 

His cheeks began to heat up in surprise, unsure of how to respond. Truthfully, he couldn’t even remember the last time someone had directly said they were proud of him. Maybe his grandfather would occasionally give him a hum and a nod of approval, but that wasn’t the same as hearing it directly. “I suppose it does…yes,” He confessed. Tybalt was excellent at stringing together creative yet eloquent insults, but romance and niceties didn’t come easy—even simple words such as ‘thank you’ were a struggle for him. 

Mercutio hummed as he slung an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer to him. “And you don’t have to do this if you really don’t want to,” He added, “I don’t think your mom would want you to do something only for her sake.” He had a good point; his mother never liked forcing him into things he wasn’t interested in doing. But there was just…a part of him that—

“I want to do this,” Tybalt assured with a slight nod, “I like playing, I like performing…I just really do not enjoy the pressure from my grandfather, and I do not enjoy looking for his face in the crowd after a performance only to see it unchanged.” He could feel a kiss placed on the top of his head, along with a slow nod. Tybalt still wasn’t used to physical affection, but he’d gotten better at not suddenly jolting or tensing up with even just the slightest brush of fingertips against his skin. 

His family was never known for their affection. Tybalt couldn’t even remember the last time he’d hugged his grandfather or his sisters. Truthfully, before Mercutio—he probably hadn’t hugged anyone since his parents died. Meanwhile, physical affection seemed to be a staple of the Monty family. Mercutio and Romeo never shied away from putting an arm around a friend’s shoulder, and Viola could usually be seen sitting on her friend’s lap or even kissing their cheeks. It was a far cry from the Capp family, truthfully. 

“I’ll be there then,” Mercutio offered with a smirk, “I’ll even force everyone to give you a standing ovation and clap so loud you’ll know exactly where I am in the crowd without even having to look.” Most people would think that to be hyperbole, but Tybalt had a feeling he was being dead serious. 

“Your grandparents might actually have you hung, drawn, and quartered if they found out you were sneaking out to go see your secret boyfriend from the rival family perform at a piano recital,” Tybalt commented, “I think they’d find that worse than simply sneaking out to make out somewhere in a field.” 

Mercutio laughed, and Tybalt could maybe feel a bit of a weight lifted from his shoulders—metaphorically, of course. “So two things,” He began, “First, if you wanna do that again after your piano recital, I’d totally be down, second—we’re boyfriends now?” He sounded so smug once he reached that second point, and Tybalt put two fingers to the other man’s cheek, shoving away his face. 

“Don’t get cocky about it,” Tybalt warned, although he imagined that advice would fall on deaf ears. 

“I’m gonna be so cocky about it,” Mercutio teased in return. 

He rolled his eyes with a groan, “I’d expect nothing less from you, to be quite honest.” Their journey to where they stood now had been nothing less than chaotic, although he supposed that was typical for Veronaville. They were friends and crushes as children, enemies as teenagers, and this on the brink of young adulthood. Admittedly, he was still afraid to call it love. It was all his mother ever wanted for him, but it was still a very terrifying thought. He’d get there, though, one day. 

“You wanna try again?” Mercutio asked as he looked towards the sheet music still placed on the piano desk. “Or take a break?” He continued, his eyes glancing back at Tybalt. Tybalt really couldn’t help how he practically slumped down on the bench, his head resting on Mercutio’s shoulder. He felt utterly drained at that point, both emotionally and physically. While he would typically keep playing until he played perfectly, every part of his body screamed for a break. 

“Break,” He murmured decisively. He could always pick it up again tomorrow, and his grandfather wouldn’t be back for another few days, so there was ample time to practice without him. Mercutio would probably still be there the next morning, anyway. He didn’t necessarily need him to be there to play, but it sure did feel nice to have someone there who actually enjoyed his playing. 

Mercutio nodded in response before giving Tybalt a mischievous grin, “How about I make dinner and then kick your ass in Smash?” His delusion was clearly admirable; Tybalt had to give him that.

“You’re god awful at Smash,” Tybalt pointed out as he straightened back out, “You’ve been playing Luigi for a decade, and I still beat you every single time.” He didn’t grow up playing video games. He only really began about a few months ago at the suggestion of Mercutio. Unfortunately for him, Tybalt was obviously much better at all of the games the other man grew up playing. 

“Hey, I let you win because I was trying to get you to like me,” Mercutio defended, but Tybalt simply brushed him off with a roll of his eyes. 

“Why would I swoon at you being terrible at video games?” Tybalt retorted, “You really need to work on your methods of seduction.” Admittedly, Tybalt initially thought that Mercutio was actually letting him win the first few times they played together. But Tybalt very quickly realized that Mercutio was actually just that bad at Smash. Great at Mario Kart, though. 

Mercutio moved his hand down to his waist, tugging him closer. “Did it or did it not work though?” He teased—and of course, this ended up causing a debate about whether or not his ‘plan’ had worked. Mercutio insisted that what he was saying was totally true, while Tybalt said that any amount of seduction was in spite of his horrid Smash gameplay. They definitely ‘argued’ about it for far too long, as they’d both forgotten about the plan about dinner and video games until about 10 PM. 

Both of them ended up staying up well past 2 in the morning, the time having gone by in a flash. Although admittedly, they didn’t fall asleep til at least 3:30. Apparently, they hadn’t really thought about the fact that Tybalt had a twin bed, and trying to find a comfortable way to sleep might as well have been like playing the world’s most brutal game of Tetris. 

They slept on his bedroom floor instead, and for the first time in a long while—Tybalt thought that maybe, just maybe, he would be okay. 

SECRET ENDING AUTHOR’S NOTE: would y’all like a post-recital one shot? 😁 lemme knaur

[majoresca]

Like mother, like daughter. ( Or, little Atlas.)

Watch Out! Incredibly long post ahead, that, and a rather melancholic ending. So beware of melodramatic speech, you have been warned.

I'm still in the first season of the show, I watched the pilot and watched two episodes.

But it crossed my mind:

How did King Roland II's court react to the news that he was going to marry a commoner?

Generally, elite marriages involved negotiations and even political treaties. So there must have been some members of the court who had reservations against the remarriage with Miranda.

I wonder if she also had difficulties adapting to the court, but she didn't want to show this to her daughter so as not to make her insecure.

Let's face it, if a child sees their parents having difficulty with something, the child tends to become even more worried about what is happening.

Let's see:

Miranda became a widow and had to raise her own daughter alone, and work to earn a living. So in addition to an emotional shock, the husband's death would cause a blow to the finances needed to support the house.

(Maybe she had to learn the profession of shoemaking, like what happened to Mama Imelda in Pixar's Coco.)

With a difficult life, she would have to prove herself strong to her own daughter. Having to create a "shell" so to speak.

Perhaps she herself hides her own weaknesses, and found in Roland someone she could open her heart to. Since the two, despite being from very different social classes, had to raise their children after their partner's mourning.

It is possible that Sofia followed her mother's example, appearing unshakable on the surface, however, suffering in silence and having difficulty opening up to people. Even having difficulty saying "no" to tasks she is not ready to take on.

(As a History Keeper, and, the sole protector of the Ever Realm.)

Think, in life in small communities, residents who suffer difficulties help each other. Because what affects one, affects everyone. So, an individual who refuses to help would be looked upon very badly.

(Like, your house and that of your neighbors are made of wood and straw, if you don't put out the fire in one of them, a fire will spread until it burns yours too.)

Sofia, being a naturally altruistic person who saw her mother's example, would use the same logic for everything. Including, to take on responsibilities that are far above her.

Furthermore, she feels the need to prove that she deserves to be a princess. Maybe not just because of being a princess, but because of wanting to prove that she deserves to be part of a new family, in this case the royal family.

How many nasty comments must Queen Miranda have heard from the royal court herself?

Calling her a gold digger, and that she had a big deal with King Roland.

And despite this, Miranda would not want to tell on the gossipers, because this could affect the relationships between her husband's friends and even more so, the political relationships that support the kingdom itself.

She probably had to be very tolerant of insults.

For the good of his own family and for the good of his own kingdom.

But imagine if this affected her own daughter?

Miranda, being an adult woman, perhaps wouldn't mind hearing defamation from people she can't stand, but she has to.

But what if she heard some comment that affected her daughter? And that Sofia herself was hurt to hear?

Oh, that would be bad. Very bad indeed! (Rest in pieces, whoever you are, you asked for it.)

Let's say, even so, Miranda couldn't protect her daughter. And not even she could tell the king, without it having major repercussions.

Because again, court relationships affect political relationships.

Wouldn't that eat her up inside? Yes, she could have consoled her own daughter. What if she couldn't reprimand those who made the comment?

In studies of social relations: when a bad action is done, and is not reprimanded, for many it is a sign of encouragement and impunity. And for victims of bad action, the impunity of their attackers can be as painful as the perpetuation of their actions. Because it would show the victims that their complaints are meaningless, or that they are not important.

So Miranda would have to see her own daughter, suffering from court gossip, with her hands tied, because if not, would this affect court relations?

Sofia, being a little warrior, like her mother, would make sure everything is fine and there is nothing to worry about.

She wouldn't want her family and friend to worry, nor would they want them to do anything that would hurt them when trying to defend her.

Perhaps Sofia herself has already heard something in the palace corridors. Saying that she doesn't belong there, that she isn't a princess and that she will never be one. And even, that she would never be considered a true member of the royal family.

That she and her mother are only there because the king took pity on them.

And others would say that Sofia is a "lucky child" to have escaped life in the village. A golden opportunity to leave poverty behind. Because by not being part of the succession, all the hard work would be given to their step-siblings. Where she would just have to watch them from afar, without lifting a finger.

Oh no, for Sofia that wasn't true. She would do whatever it took to prove herself, that she could be as helpful as her siblings, and that she wouldn't just take advantage of her status.

And that in fact, she could improve the lives of the people in the old village where she lived. Showing that she would never forget her origins, and that she could use her privileges to improve the kingdom in the way she can.

That she could help improve everyone's lives!

Taking any opportunity that came her way to help others, even if it meant extra work for herself.

Sofia has family and friends, who she can always count on. But, when she took on such big responsibilities, she realized how much it could affect them. Even putting them in danger, so maybe, she thinks about leaving them out of these matters.

As responsibilities take over time, she certainly now has more similarities between herself and her father Roland II.

Just like her, her sister and brother certainly had more things to do too. And her friends from the village would also be busy. Being apprentices in their own parents' professions, which they would take on when they grew up.

Less time for herself, less time for her family, less time for her friends, less childhood and youth games, less time even for her own dreams.

Little Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on her small shoulders.

Helping is what good princesses do! She knows this! Everyone knows.

Helping is what good people do.

But who will help her when she needs it most?

It's a thankless job, saving everyone, without having a guarantee that someone would save you back...

P.S.

For those curious people who continued reading until the end, oh my! Thank you very much, hugs and kisses.

[chaos-vulpix]

Incorrect Legacyverse Quotes 2

PART 1 (New Year, New Incorrect Quotations)

Kai: Nothing in life is free Jay: Love is free! Cole: Adventure is free Zane: Knowledge is free Nya: Everything is free if you take it without paying

Lloyd: Where are you going? Harumi: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there

Jesse: Wanna play 20 questions? Cole: Sure! Jesse: You first Cole: What's your favourite colour? Jesse: Triangle. My turn: do you like boys?

Kai: I think Nya is mad at you Jay: What makes you say that? Kai: Because she's cleaning up the mess you made and asked me to deliver this to you hands him a note Jay, reading the note: "Dear Jay, I hope this note finds you before I do :)"

Jamie: I want to stop them, but I’m too good to kill anyone Olivia: I’m not. Give me the gun

sharpens knife Harumi: We have ways of making people talk cuts a piece of cake Cole: ...can I have some? Antonia: Cake is for talkers

Nya, reading a fan’s question: How would you describe Kai's mind? Zane: Like an internet browser Kai: What? Cole: 17 tabs are open, 4 of them are frozen Jay: And he has no idea where the music is coming from. Kai: ...

Cole: Did Jesse just tell me he loves me for the first time? Miranda: Yeah Cole: And did I do finger guns back? Miranda: Yeah, you did

Puffer: Fresh lemonade, freshly squeezed~ Bridget: Puffer Puffer: Pour it in a cup~ Bridget: Puffer, stop Puffer: Can't get enough~ Olivia: When you work with a team, you have to speak to them in a polite & professional manner Puffer: Oo- Olivia: Shut the fuck up

Ray: My lower back is killing me~ Maya: And I~ Ray: I must confess, I've lost the kids~ Maya: Lost the ki- You lost the kids!?!?

Zane: What do you think you're going to bring to your team? Olivia: Impending doom. A feeling of impending doom Jamie: We've already got that feeling, so just top it off a bit Harumi: I've got faith in you, I think you're going to turn this around for us Jamie: I don't. I picked her because I love the bare bones of the woman. I absolutely adore you, but we're gonna fuckin' die Olivia: Yeah

Jamie: Are they really gonna beat up Chad? Olivia, recording it on their phone: Yes Jamie: ...Sunni, pass the popcorn

Lloyd: Nothing makes a gamer more nervous than when the game autosaves in a seemingly harmless location Jamie: This is an awfully convenient collection of healing items... Kai: Why is all of this ammo here? Jay: Where did all the enemies go? Cole: This room has a lot of wide, open space in it... Jesse: The music stopped suddenly! Harumi: No, there it is... Olivia: ...That's an awful lot of bass

Lloyd: What happens to all your teen angst when you turn 20? Like, where does it go? Bridget: They diagnose it as anxiety

Jesse: L is for the way you look at me. O is for the only one I see. V is very, very, extraordinary- Miranda: EGG

[sorserah]

Mechaniacs - Kirin Jindosh x OC - Chapter VII

Summary The story of Dr. Addison Lynch, a neuroscientist who played an important role in the past and will again in the future. (fic from 2017) _________________________________________________ tags: 18+, unethical medicine, blood, violence, neurology, neuroscience, dishonored universe usual type of stuff, first person _________________________________________________ ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8598001/chapters/23318310#workskin

2nd Day, the Month of Wind 1852 10:15 am

She is still unconscious, the fourth day now. She was almost dead when arriving at my mansion, two of my modified clockwork soldiers had pulled us out of the ocean. (Still a huge success) My condition now: average. My broken nose was fixed but I could do nothing about my hematoma and the sprained ankle. The more concerning matter is the hole in my forehead. The part of my skull, shredded in pieces, is still on the Dreadful Wale and I surely don‘t want one of my test subjects part in my head. I am still trying to figure out, which material would be the best replacement and how to get it. Luckily, Addison seems to be as skilled as she claims to be, nothing in my behavior or personality had changed.

To go to a specialist wouldn‘t be the best move to do now, since Miss Kaldwin or whoever might be looking for us, besides I doubt that he or she could do more then me or her. Locking up my mansion and activating all of my clockwork soldiers is the least I can do at the moment, even in my bedroom and bathroom are patrolling five of them, firing all of my employees: a necessity. If I would only know how to produce them with inexpensive resources and more important, how to make them more deadly, smarter and protective. I wouldn't have to rely on those, that were my employees and never had to fear Miss Kaldwin or the Royal Protector would come back in.

I remember that Addison wanted to talk with me about an idea she had. I have to wait for that and for surgery until she wakes up, I have a suspicion about what she had in mind, but we will see if it will be confirmed.

I am really thankful

I am glad that she

I appreciate her work and efforts.

Jindosh

I closed the book and the lock around it closed automatically. The button I pressed under my desk, made a hidden drawer appear, where I laid it in. I was sitting at my desk, leaning back in my armchair for a while, listening to the static humming and clicking of the machines around me. From time to time I granted myself a drag of my hand pipe. It was a completely new one, since the last was lost somewhere on or on the way to the Dreadful Wale. The taste and smoke development, was a lot better in this one, I was inspired by the Hookah I heard Miss Kalwin talking about one evening and before I fired Miranda, I ordered her to get me some of the best ones. Now I have quite the collection of them and tobacco gathered all over the place.

Making my way down the stairs, with one hand around the crutch, the other on the railing, was painful, I felt each step in my joints. Over the glass platforms and past my chem lab, to the newly build up medical tent. „Good morning sir.“ The machine that was guarding the tent, greeted me.

When I entered I heard the heart machine was beating in a steady rhythm, good. I moved to the end of the bed and took the clipboard that was attached to it. Her blood levels are fine, but could be better. I moved over her, injected some more serum and inspected her newly transferred skin. It seems to heal pretty well, the donor was a perfect match. She might wake up in a few hours.

Darkness. It was cold and I was so tired. A painful stroke on my chest, vomiting, coughing, than someone screaming and clicking sounds. Darkness again.

Now, the opposite. Too bright. The white penetrated my eyes, even when closed. My eyelids too heavy to open. A machine beeping, someone stroking my forehead and cheek. Silence. Darkness.

The next time the white appeared, it didn't feel that painful, rather calming. The beeping was gone as well. I opened my eyes. I was staring at the ceiling of a white tent. Carefully I tried to sit up and looked around.

Next to me, on my left side was a heart machine, turned off now. Surely this was the source of the beeping sound from before. On my right side was a infusion, with a bright red liquid. The infusion were dangling against the metal rod. I checked my inner arms, it had definitely been in there, but I guess my body was healed enough or the serum was strong enough to prevent the pain from coming back for the next few hours.

I saw a creme colored letter on my lap. I unfolded it, in an elegant and twirly, but rather messy handwriting was written:

Dear Addison,

The exact time of your awakening was precarious.

You had third degree burnings, especially your back was in a pretty bad condition. I found a donor, who was a nearly perfect match. You should feel fine now. You are at my mansion, in a tent at my office.

The probability of a temporary amnesia is about 50%, so if you don't know what you are doing here, visit me in my atelier or the balcony around there. Along the corridor, up the stairs or take the elevator, one of the following doors. The machines are friendly.

If you experience no amnesia, welcome back, you know where to find me.

Jindosh

I leaned back and closed my eyes. Tried to remember.

A sharp pain, the cold ocean, waves trying to drown me, the humming of 3 bloodflies. Blood, dripping out of a hole in a forehead, glass shattering, me leaning over a sink, vomiting, my left hand, bandaged and bloody. My hand.

Quickly I opened my eyes and looked at it, a bandage was wrapped around each finger, I could see what was underneath it. I hadn't even noticed that I used it to hold the letter, but now that I noticed, it felt different. I lift it up and tried to make a fist, it didn't work. It felt heavier, but didn't hurt. Was it save to unwrap?

I was looking around to find something sharp, but I didn't see anything.Slowly I stood up and grabbed the crutches, which were placed next to my bed. My feet touched the cold glass floor, underneath I saw enormous gears. I leaned on the crutches and stood up, I felt a bit dizzy but with each step it got better.

When I stepped out of the tend, it took my breath away. The office was huge. A giant, round, two or three floored room. I was standing on the first floor. The setting sun was shining through the glass dome twenty meters above my head. Two clockwork soldiers were marching around the balcony on the second floor, in a steady rhythm, watching it was hypnotizing.I let my eyes wander downwards, on one quarter of the round glass floor was a chem and on the next a medical lab. Maybe there will be some scissors there.

Before I was able to make my way to check, one of the clockwork soldiers stepped in front of me, he must have been behind the tent. It was about two meters high, it whirred and hummed endlessly. "Okay, the machine has detected – something…" the head turned towards me a small lens in the hole of the eyes focusing me "Idling. Commence lens refocus." and a cracking sound „...Addison I see you are awake. Meet me on the balcony, along the corridor, up the stairs or take the elevator here in my office and then the last door on the left.“ cracking again. The clockwork soldier rose his head up "Still idling. Take this opportunity to backcharge second coil." and kept walking past me.

With those crutches I'd rather not take the stairs, so I looked for the elevator.The ten minutes it took me, to get to the last door of the corridor, were totally worth it. Apart from the brilliant and aesthetically pleasing architecture, there were so many things to touch and turn. I could only imagine how much this whole mansion had to offer.

I opened the door. I was standing in a bathroom. What. For a second I thought I chose the wrong one, but in front of me was a small console and a note, the door snapped as I walked towards the note. “Stand on the platform and push me”. Was written in the same handwriting as the letter. In front of me a platform with a bathtub on in and a mirror on the wall. I climbed clumsily on the platform and moved closer to the mirror to inspect myself.

My hair was cut shorter, now barley longer than my chin. I was wearing a tight white leggings, a tight turtle neck, that looked like bandages over bandages and a wide t shirt over it. Besides that I didn't notice anything different, my face even looked a bit fuller than it did at Addermire.

I turned around tried to maintain a steady position and pushed the button.Gleaming sunlight surprised me as I tried to not fall down as the platform, the bathtub and the whole wall moved in a horizontal 180 degree angle. My eyes needed a few minutes to get used to the sunlight. It was warm, around 20 degree Celsius I would have guessed. The ceiling was about four or five meters high and was hold by giant archways made out of stone. There were plants everywhere, it was beautiful. And even more beautiful was the view I detected in the background. I walked towards the railing to get a better look. “Addison!” I heard Jindosh calling me and I turned my head around.

He was sitting, legs crossed, on the right, in front of him a couch table with a smoking hookah “The view from here is as good as any on here” and he tapped on the space next to him. He stood up and reached out to me as I walked around the table, I took his hand, thankfully. The couch itself was very comfortable, with my right hand I stroked over the fabric, silk. Jindosh poured something to drink in the cup in front of me, but I was too busy with taking in the whole surrounding.

Only the bubbling of the hookah and the smoke blurring my view let me snap out of my trance. I looked at Jindosh who was exhaling another drag. He had a bandage around is forehead and his nose was still a little purple and yellow. He was wearing one of his white shirts again, pulled up to the elbows. Wordlessly he handed me the tube and I took a strong puff. It tasted like wild berries and mint. So we sat there in silence, only the bubbling and the birds twittering could be heard. Until Jindosh cleared his throat “I suppose you have questions?” He put down the tube and turned towards me his right arm on the backrest.

“Yes. Firstly, what happened? The last thing I remember is pretty much drowning and yeah, pain.”

“Before they brought me into the machine room I cought a glimpse out of the window and saw we were pretty close to the mainland and my mansion. So I started to plan our escape, back in our room I managed to find a small pin I found on the ground, foolish of them really, but before I could do anything about it, I was beaten unconscious and strapped to a chair. You know the rest of the story. But how did we survive you want to ask?

I was getting more and more paranoid working together with the Duke and Delilah, for obvious reasons, and I needed a way out, if it would get too…lets say serious. I implanted a very small device into my aorta, which sends feedback to one of my clockwork soldiers. If my heart rate would fall into a critical state, he would come and bring me back to my office. Unfortunately the radius is still pretty small and the whole device is still in development, but it worked.” he smiled self-pleased and tapped himself on the shoulder “Impressive.” I said sarcastically, but then I remembered I would be dead without him and added an honest smile. “He, the clockwork soldier, is still a little rough and can't actually provide medical assistance, but he brought us back. You were in a worse condition than I, so I started helping you first. Before I fired all my human employees – a safety measure -, I let them gather everything I needed. Transferring the skin was pretty hard, I am not gonna lie, but I did it...and your hand well...” I pointed at it “Can I?” he nodded.

My heart was beating faster when I unwrapped and unwrapped, until I could see skin and now I saw why it felt so heavy. To each of my fingers cables and wire were attached. Thick metal constructions were build around them. I tried to move one of them. Nothing. In shock I looked at him. “I am sorry Addison, I couldn't save it” Jindosh said and he sounded truly sorry. “The muscles and nerves have been cut off somehow, right? And why those constructions.” “Well, I still want to try something, but not without your permission. I want to recreate your hand, mechanically. But it proves to be harder than I thought. It will need some time.” I looked down at it. Losing one of my limbs...Something I would have never imagined. “But I think with your knowledge it would be faster and in the mean time I made a small device like a watch, to control the construction. Its in my office if you want to try it.”

My eyes were filling with tears but I managed to swallow everything and as I started talking my voice was only a little bit rough.

“So...How are you feeling?” “Except for the hole in my forehead its fine.” “May I?” He nodded again. I moved closer to him and shoved the bandage upwards. The whole was still there, the way I drilled it in. Just cleaner. A wave of guilt rushed over me and must have mirrored in my face because Jindosh looked at me seriously “It is not your fault. We get this fixed.”

I lifted my right hand and stroke over his forehead, then over his eyebrow to his cheek. I noticed his hand has followed a smilar route. His thumb was caressing my jaw. I was close to crying again “Jindosh…” I looked into his brown eyes “Thank you.” I kissed him and he kissed me back.

[authortobenamedlater]

Predictions, questions, good/bad/neutral about E3.

Why does this show make me so long-winded.

Predictions:

As I already mentioned, Jacob Keyes is not going to survive Reach. I don’t want this to happen, because death seems like too easy an out for him and the Spartans need their Dadmiral, but it’s close enough to canon. He can live on in my AUs.

Kai leads the Spartan-IIIs on Reach. In a couple of trailers we see her in a drop ship with what I’m now certain are SPI helmets behind her. Then she goes to Onyx and steps into the Kurt role. Or maybe she takes over for him. It’s probably too much to hope that we might see them working together. I’ll save that for headcanons and fanfic.

…Does this mean Kai will go out like Kurt at some point? Getting ahead of things.

Miranda is on Onyx doing artifact research and/or working on the science side of the S-IIIs. She did finally show up for two seconds in the “this season on” trailer.

The Covenant forces Cortana to reveal the location of Earth, which is why John is standing on a drop ship with Jupiter in the foreground in one of the trailers.

We will meet Noble Team in some form, especially if Kai is leading the S-IIIs into battle.

Reach is going down. There. At least one of these predictions is guaranteed.

Questions:

WHO is that S-III who looks an awful lot like Corporal Perez? Just a coincidental lookalike? If not Talia, maybe Kat or Lucy? I would love to see Tom and Lucy on screen.

Silver Team is, officially or otherwise, getting separated. Kai and Riz are both justifiably POed at John and Vannak isn’t too happy either, I imagine. Kai got pulled to the S-IIIs and Riz is wondering about “life without all this Spartan $#*!.” Are we going to see John as the one-man army we get in every Halo game except 5, and Silver will become recurring characters? Or, are we making room for John to get a new team? Maybe a team we know already? Like…Blue Team?

I am very curious what the Spartan-IIIs look like in this world. I get the impression they haven’t been around that long, but most of this is fan brain conjecture from trailers. Exhibit A: In one trailer Kai steps out in front of a formation of IIIs and we hear Ackerson saying “make them Spartans.” The IIIs already ARE Spartans. They’ve been around for 20 years by this point.

UNLESS. They’ve basically made the IIIs into the IVs. That could explain a Talia sighting and why Kai is getting tapped to train them. Maybe Reach is their first deployment.

If these are the IIIs who are more like IVs, maybe the Talia Perez lookalike is Sarah Palmer? I hope not, because Frankie Adams of The Expanse fame is live action Palmer in my mind’s eye and I want to keep that illusion as long as possible.

The suits look pretty similar.

Once again getting WAY ahead of myself.

How are they going to resolve the Cortana situation? In one trailer it looks like a Sangheili is putting her on a chip or disk of some kind. Is she going back in John’s head at some point? Who’s going to do this? If she stays on a chip do they have to retrofit his helmet and every other piece of UNSC tech?

Who’s this Var ‘Gatanai Talia names in the last scene? Did the show make an entirely new Arbiter? Is Var going to die and make room for Thel? Is Thel still leading the fleet and Var is on the ground? Does Thel not exist here? Last time we saw Makee she was about to touch the larger artifact. Did she ever touch it?What happened? Are we going to see her during the battle? Will she die again? Will she stay dead?

Good, bad, general commentary:

You all know what I want. I’m here for The Chief and Cortana Show. I want my Chief and Cortana Show. This is not the Chief and Cortana show. I want them back together.

I like how the show is giving us a peek into how the UNSC / ONI bureaucracy and agenda is as big an adversary as the Covenant. A good example of the show telling stories the games can’t. Not that shooting your way through ONI red tape wouldn’t be kind of a hilarious video game.

I currently don’t like how they just wiped Madrigal out of the picture, but I am reserving judgment for now to see how this plays out.

I love Ackerson. I hate Ackerson.

Kind of mad Cobalt Team turned up dead. They deserved better.

I still live in hope of one day meeting Avery Johnson.

Ackerson talks about John “interact[ing] with the Covenant agent” and says he read the report. So all that is common knowledge? And John is just walking around like nothing happened? Weird.

Laera being a boss lady and mama bear is awesome. She is truly the only woman for Soren.

I am SCREAMING and FLAILING and GEEKING OUT over the overt Christian references this season. Making me want to write my “what if a Spartan got religion” story. Gahhhhhh

[ace-for-eddie]

Part 4

Eddie and Hopper sat on the porch waiting for Wayne to arrive. 

“Listen Munson. I know we haven’t always been on the best of terms.” Hopper started.

Eddie hummed, feeling himself tense up.

Although Hopper had been instrumental in getting his name cleared of the murder charges, they hadn’t really had many conversations since. And any before usually involved Hopper reciting the Miranda rights and Eddie being shoved into the back of the police car. 

“But uh… while I won’t hesitate to arrest you again.” Hopper pointed his finger in Eddie’s face. The front door swung open as Joyce walked out onto the porch.

Hopper cleared his throat and continued. “I can tell that you’ve grown up a lot, kid. And the shit this town has dumped on you isn’t right. I will do everything I can to help you in this. And if you aren’t sure what to do with this little girl… your little girl, you can… you can always come to me one Dad to another.”

Hopper placed a strong hand on Eddie’s shoulder, sniffed then nodded before walking back inside.

Eddie was stunned and simply nodded in shock. 

Today was getting weirder and weirder, and given Eddie’s standard, this was next level intense. 

Joyce smiled warmly and took Hopper’s place pacing a soft hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

He took a deep breath, “...okay.”

Wayne arrived in his beat up pickup concerned that Eddie was sick, hurt or had gotten into trouble somehow. He was not expecting the news that he was basically a grandfather.

He teared up a little, then started laughing. Loud. 

“Shit Eds, I didn’t think you…” he stopped realizing Joyce Byers was beside them. “I didn’t think that girl… was your type,” giving Eddie a knowing look.

Eddie huffed a laugh. “She wasn’t. But I was still figuring things out 3 years ago. And it’s okay Ms… I mean Joyce already knows I’m gay. She’s safe.” 

Wayne smiled at Joyce. “Thank you for being here for my boy Ms. Joyce.”

“Of course! It takes a village right?” She smiled. 

“Speaking of which. When can I meet my grandbaby?” He asked. “Is it okay if…if I call her my grandbaby?”

“Wayne, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Eddie smiled and hugged his uncle. “You’re gonna love her. She’s amazing…” Eddie led the way to introduce Evelyn to her Grand-deddie Wayne. 

Of course, Wayne instantly fell in love with the sweet child, reading her another book as she nuzzled against his side on the couch.

Eddie found El and Will at the table in the small kitchen and pulled up a chair.

“Hey guys, uh thanks for helping so much. Wow, this is so weird.” He ran his fingers through his hair. 

“She is very sweet. And she likes you a lot. You are a good Dad Eddie.” El smiled. 

He just smiled and stared at the table. “Thanks Supergirl.”

“Have you told anyone else?” Will asked curiously.

“Uh…no not yet. Please don’t tell anyone though okay? I want it to come from me.”

“Of course. It’s not our story to tell.” Will smiled at Eddie using the same phrase Eddie had used when Will came out to him in recent months. Eddie offered to be there to talk if he ever needed anything. He knew how hard it could be to be gay in such a close minded town. 

“I should probably tell Henderson soon though, so he doesn’t shit himself if everyone else knows first.” Eddie sighed. “Can I use your phone?” 

“Of course.” Will stated.

“Are you going to tell him on the phone?” El asked.

“Yeah, why not?”

“It seems like something to tell friends in person.” She replied. 

“Uh… yeah I guess so. I’ll see if he can come over.” Eddie didn’t know if he’d have the energy to deal with Dustin Henderson and a toddler today, but figured it would be worse to wait.

The phone rang a few times before Claudia answered and brought Dustin to the phone. Eddie invited him to come over to the Hopper-Byers house and waited on the porch with Will.

While Eleven and Joyce took to washing Evelyn’s clothing which reeked of smoke and something like cat urine. Joyce threw some of the pieces away immediately and decided she’d be making a trip to the children’s section at Goodwill the following day. 

Dustin Henderson was dropped off at the cabin and took the steps two at a time.

“So what is so important you need to meet me at Hopper’s cabin?” Dustin rolled his eyes.

“Well, Henderson. I just wanted to congratulate you on becoming an uncle.” Eddie smiled his snarky grin while Will tried not to laugh and choke on the soda he was drinking.

“Eddie, what the hell are you talking about? I’m an only child.”

“Ouch man, didn’t know you thought so low of me. Wow. Okay nevermind.” Eddie put his hands up in defense.

“Oh, well, yeah you’re like my brother. But what do you mean… uncle? Did you get a dog or something?”

“Ew, no. That’s too much responsibility.” Eddie grimaced. “I got a kid.”

“You got a kid?”

“I got a kid.”

“Where did you get a kid Eddie?” Dustin was starting to get tired of this bullshit.

“Well DustyBun, when a guy and a girl…” Eddie started and Will just about fell off his chair.

“Shut up. What the hell did you drag me out here for?” Dustin stomped.

“No, I wanted to tell you I have a kid. A daughter actually. Her name is Evelyn.” Eddie beamed. 

“You’re… you’re serious.” Dustin started to smile. Eddie nodded.

“How? When?”

“That’s a longer story…” Will stated from behind Eddie. “Sit down.” 

Dustin peeked through the cabin window to see Eddie’s uncle Wayne sitting on the couch napping with a toddler and his eyes grew incredibly wide along with his smile.

“You want me to be… her uncle?” He teared up.“Yeah, man. Just feels right.”

“Holy shit…tell me everything.” Dustin plopped down to hear about Eddie’s news.

[musewrangler]

I was thinking about this at work, and I must know:

If your Empire Reimagined characters were in the modern world, what would some of their favorite bands/artists/songs be? (My theory is, Piett would like Simon & Garfunkel, but that's just me)

First we need to establish that you are wonderful for thinking about this at work. ;D I love it.

And it is now your fault that I can't do anything else until I answer this hilarious plunge down the imagination. So. Cracks knuckles. Here we go:

Contrary to what you might think, it is Anakin who likes Simon and Garfunkle. They strike the right note of melancholy for him, without being too dark and angsty. He's trying not to allow outside stimuli to drag him to darkness again. Luke likes this too and Leia rolls her eyes at both of them and refuses to allow it to play in her house.

Han is a classic 80s band guy. U2, Bon Jovi, Journey, ACDC, Wham, Queen, Blondie---he loves it all. Leia likes some songs from some of these artists and they can be seen dancing together to these pieces. There was one legendary night at Sola and Firmus's place when they'd enjoyed a good dinner and good wine that Han and Leia did karaoke for 'Don't Stop Believin', belting it at the top of their lungs to the point that the neighbors commed to complain about noise, but Firmus let Luke talk to them and they came over and had wine and were fine about it. Even requested 'Hungry Like the Wolf'.

Veers also likes ACDC if only for 'Back in Black' as it reminds him of his tank divisions in the Middle East and the camraderie of his men who picked this song as their anthem. He doesn't mind most of Han's music---it hits the right notes literally, though he's not a big Hughie Lewis and the News fan in spite of Back to the Future.

While we're on Veers, he REALLY likes Queen, and the early 2000s hard rock. He also is a dork about the Beatles---something Firmus really loves to give him a hard time about----and Leia and he have trivia battles regularly about this as she likes them too. [Myra loved the Beatles, and so while Firmus likes to tease Max, he also has every single song on his playlist ready if requested.]

Luke is a Maroon Five, Plain White T's, Coldplay, Greenday, The Fray sort of guy, but if you want to see him air guitar [and he has and Han recorded it] watch him with the Black Eyed Peas. I know. No one called that, but it's awesome. He genuinely likes most of the other music his friends and family do, and Leia shares his love of Coldplay.

Piett is quite eclectic in taste. He and Veers can be found nodding their heads and looking very satisfied when CCR is playing, especially Fortunate Son. His favorites to tend toward the 70s rock, so the Eagles, The Dooby Brothers, Moody Blues, and Styx are favorites. However, Firmus LOVES good jazz and swing music. So he can equally be found playing Sinatra, Crosby, Bobby Darin, Big Fat Voodoo Daddy and Nat King Cole. He and Sola are really good dance partners by now and Leia loves capturing sweet moments in their kitchen when they're making dinner for the family and the Admiral takes Sola by the waist to spin her round the island impressively to the King of Swing.

He also loves great classical pieces like Bach's Cello Suite No. 1 in G major or Handel or Beethoven. This is good because his adopted son in all but name is a classical freak.

Scraps is KEEN. Matthew is all things classical and is an utter NERD about this. He knows ridiculous amounts and can name a piece after just the first five notes.

He also plays the cello himself and does so beautifully though none of them knew this until four years into knowing him.

Leia, as mentioned, loves Coldplay and some of the 80s bands Han does. She refuses to listen to music she has deemed 'boring and slow' [pointed look to Anakin and Luke] though she seems to enjoy Piett's jazz and it is rarely fast paced so.

Leia has a country streak though she is picky here as well. She adores Cash, Luke Combs, Miranda Lambert, and ZZ Top. [There are pitched discussions over whether that last is properly country, but Han takes her side---shocker---mostly because he likes the song 'Well Dressed Man'] She has a hilarious affection for 'Ice Ice Baby' which many of her friends find strange since she doesn't like cold typically, but she will bop to this any time any where. Han tried putting it on during an argument once and she managed to carry on yelling for another minute before she broke.

It only worked once though.

Thank you @accidental-spice! This was really fun!

[rallamajoop]

Lab Photos and Documents from Resident Evils 7 & 8

Near the end of both Resis 7 and 8, the player character gets to explore a laboratory full of significant documents and interesting photos, textured and angled such that it’s very hard to get a good screencap. So here’s a huge dump of all the relevant image assets I could find to extract from both game files (plus some rambling about everything that got recycled between them, because spot-the-reused-asset is still my favourite game right now).

Photos from Lucas' lab in Resident Evil 7

The photo of Mia with Eveline in front of the tanker can be found at the end of the Mia video tape, though it also shows up again in Lucas' other lab in the Not A Hero DLC. That DLC also throws in a few new photos of Lucas' creations.

And moving on a game...

Photos from Miranda's Lab in Resident Evil 8

(Apologies for the long post above the cut, but tumblr doesn't seem to let you tile images below a 'Read more', unfortunately.)

What’s interesting is that most do seem to be legitimate photos of the characters’ real-life face models, not just renders of their 3D game models. Whether the human models themselves posed for these or whether their likeness was simply photoshopped onto scenes composed without them I haven’t been able to find out (though the latter seems more likely to me, given that most face models don't even seem to have known what character their likeness would be used for). Either way, there’s an eerie realism to these that doesn’t occur in many other parts of the game, and it’s effective in its own uncanny way.

Since both games refer to the same research at the same lab, it's probably reasonable that some of RE8 photos are just slightly-adjusted copies of those from RE7 ‒ those two shots of Eveline in the lab most obviously. And we're probably just supposed to politely ignore how obviously Miranda's just been selectively edited into that original pic of Eveline with the scientists. *cough*

In fact, if you look closely, even that big group photo of Eveline with the research team and transport operatives has actually patched in both Mia and Eveline from that earlier photo of them standing in front of the tanker. In fact, Alan (Mia's partner in RE7) isn't even from a photo at all: that's a drawing from a piece concept art (no wonder they've got him standing at the back!) As a minor role who appeared in no photos in RE7, I assume they just didn't have any good shots of his face model available.

I'm a little suspicious even Miranda's face in the group shot has been edited in from one of her other photos, but the match isn't quite perfect enough for me to be sure.

Even that photo of the needle going into the egg and the developing foetus isn't new: you can see the same needle shot in some of the RE7 documents, and even the foetus development series gets an angled scan-over in the RE7 ending sequence.

Mind you, some of those "photos of Eveline" may actually not be Eveline herself ‒ text on them in the lab itself suggests they're photos of other members of the E-series, sacrificed during necrotoxin tests. Which makes it rather odd that the figure in the second photo is an adult man who looks nothing like Eveline, so I can only assume some wires got crossed somewhere in the dev team.

(Also odd: the suggestion that there were multiple E-series subjects, some of whom were put down for experimental purposes, even though Eveline herself is labeled E-001. But let's not pretend RE lore has ever been super-consistent at the best of times.)

RE8's "lab photos" also include a couple of shots of a man in snow gear who's apparently Spencer of Umbrella-fame, presumably for all those fans who don't feel it's a proper Resident Evil game if there's not an Umbrella in it somewhere. They're both about as rough as that one piece of concept art of Alan, so I'm guessing whoever created them was about as invested in that topic as I am.

Somewhat more interesting to me are the two shots of Miranda with babies. The second obvious Eveline, but the first is presumably of Miranda with Eva, way back in 1920 or so ‒ demonstrating nothing so much much as that in a full 100 years, Miranda hasn't even slightly changed how she does her eyebrows. /s

[valleynix]

Before I go further into the story... I'VE DONE RESEARCH. And I have one more theory. I hope I managed to make it make sense it was hard to gather thoughts into words.

So the Megamycete can store the consciousnesses of people that are infected/died. It is also capable of creating a whole new realm.

So, I think when the blackouts happen Reader finds themselves in the world created by the Megamycete. The people they see are pieces/versions/copies of their and other people's (like Dimis) consciousness. Since there was a calmer version of Daniela, I assume there can be a scarier, more feral version(s) of the Reader too.

Now I think Miranda is, perhaps, running tests on the Reader, on the different copies/versions of their consciousness like it was with Rose in the DLC. Maybe they're supposed to go through some kind of scenario(s)?

To see which version will succeed and in what circumstances.

But it seems most (if not all) failed. That's why the "Not enough, not good, can’t help" lines.

That would explain the feeling of deja vu, that Reader already spent time with Dimitrescus. Those could be the memories of a different version of the Reader that had already gone through the scenario.

But I don't know if this is the version that Miranda chose as destined to succeed or if it's a random consciousness on loose?

(Or the Reader the story we follow is still a test subject and none of this is actually real like idk they're trapped in their body, their mind stuck in the fake realm)

But... yeah, what was Miranda's goal. This is the part of theory I have doubts about but let's go.

It's strange but for me it looks like Miranda wanted Reader to like... neutralise the Dimitrescus? But Reader became attached to them so they didn't want to hurt them. So Miranda forced them by getting into their head. (Since it was mentioned she can do that)

In those blackouts I feel like Reader becomes hostile toward them sometimes, like they're not completely themselves.

The ch6 blackout looks like Reader (even if didn't want it) attacked them (perhaps even killed one of them) but failed at defeating them all.

And Miranda(?) said they weren't ready, but she can try again. As in, use another copy of the Reader perhaps? To make them go through this all again and see if this time they'll be successful.

So when those people the Reader sees say they're not good enough, they can't help. Maybe they mean they can't fight against Miranda to stay sane and not hurt the people they grew to care about.

There was a line "I can't let her win" so perhaps they mean they can't let Miranda take over their mind and make them fight against Dimitrescus.

Idk why she would want them dead tho😭 so I may be so horribly stupidly wrong about this part but yeah

before i get started partially answering your theory (because i don't want to spoil anything), can i just tell you how much i ADORE this theory??? like... oh my god. i love the thought and work you clearly put into making it and i will cherish it <33

i will say that you did pick up on a few things!! and something you did hit PERFECTLY (but i will not say which part >:) ). it's very interesting seeing theories pop up before the reveal because, truthfully, everything is written as if there are several possibilities, if that makes sense?

like, it's intentionally misleading so that you won't really know what's going on until the reveal, but the clues/hints/foreshadowing can lead to multiple outcomes. i am tired and my vision is blurry so i hope this makes sense BAHA

i believe Miranda's motives are either hinted at or said in chapter eight/nine, but when/if you get there, i'd be happy to clarify her reasoning for doing All That and why she wants to Dimitrescus (and everyone else) dead. i really can't remember if i did go into detail about it or if it was all simply implication; i'd have to go back and reread :o

but listen, nah. we don't insult theories here >:( i had fun reading what you think is going on and all the evidence you have to back yourself up; no theory is a stupid one! i intentionally wrote it so that you most likely wouldn't know what exactly was going on, but you did come very close in some areas and 100% got some others :D

i do look forward to hearing what else you have to say as you continue reading <33

[theohonohan]

Not really a community matter

I’ve finished reading and listening to Miranda July’s All Fours. (I bought the audiobook after getting stuck near the end of the first part while reading the Kindle edition. In all, the cost was less than a physical copy. We’ll see whether I retain access to either digital format in five years, or ten years, or after the collapse of the current dispensation).

I am going to write something more about July, although it’s tempting to leave off with the last piece I wrote, which I think was pithy enough.

July calls herself an artist, but to my mind she’s really an “artist” in quotation marks. It’s hard to look at her body of work and conclude that she is a genuine maker of art, rather than a filmmaker. I don’t mean to gatekeep or police the business of art making—what I mean is just that when I compare her to Sophie Calle or Frances Stark, her artwork seems a little less considered, a little more slight. She’s a celebrity, no doubt. As she writes in the book “I worked in so many mediums that I was able to debut many times; for about fifteen years I just kept emerging, like a bud opening over and over again.” Is this it—that she has a knack for making an impression, but lacks the wherewithal to become truly established?

In a recent interview, July remarked:

In my early twenties I came across a book by the artist and Bauhaus teacher László Moholy-Nagy, and I still have the bookmark in the spot that says, “Art is a community matter transcending the limitations of specialization,” which I took to mean we don’t have to specialize. So I guess I did need some outside approval on this.

Moholy-Nagy is an unexpected reference point for July, and rather than being a representative of interdisciplinarity (as July is taking him to be) he is best known as a designer (consider his text “Designing is not a profession but attitude”: https://www.readingdesign.org/designing-is-not-a-profession). Moholy-Nagy, in my mind, is distinctively modernist figure who sees himself, in the role of designer, regulating the whole system of production, knowing what every machine in the factory does and why it is doing it. July is not a designer—her productions are more scattershot—and although she is very fluent, articulate, and a great writer, the philosophy she is guided by seems to be somewhat patchy and gimcrack when compared to Moholy-Nagy’s perhaps overbearing but at least technically competent “man at the crossroads” of industrial society.

Much of July’s material seems to come from her weird upbringing, with a pair of crazy parents who ran a new-agey pseudo-scientific publishing house. Although she seeks to be the brainy one with insight into relationships, her engagement with many topics is, on the evidence of All Fours, a little superficial. She’s not really a “theoretical girl”, to use the classic 80s expression (I don't think she'd claim to be one, either—not "theoretical", anyway).

I’m interested in her untrained and “intuitive” (whatever that word means) perceptions of the world, particularly when it comes to things like apps. I’m a little disappointed that her articulacy doesn’t seem to be backed up by a strong programme of investigations. She does seem busy, compulsive even, and I guess that the book is in some sense a reckoning with the point in life when natural compulsion and energy seem to wear out. July’s character slackens off the pace, finding it difficult to make new work. It seems very plausible to me that July’s success has come from being driven, from relentlessly transcribing and exposing her immediate thoughts to the world, rather than through deep insight and contemplation. She writes:

I work in our converted garage. One leg of my desk is shorter than the others and every day for the past fifteen years I’ve meant to wedge something under it, but every day my work is too urgent—I’m perpetually at a crucial turning point; everything is forever about to be revealed.

I can relate to this. Is it a kind of self-indulgence to dedicate oneself to this work? Is it self-centered to think that this is how you should spend your time?

I hadn’t planned on becoming this rarefied; I had just spent every waking moment trying to get across what life seemed like to me, only allowing undeniable things—the child, a bad case of the flu, hunger and thirst—to take me away from this trying.

One point of annoyance, for some readers of the book, is July’s financial obliviousness. From the point when the protagonist spontaneously chooses to blow her $20k on redecorating a cheap motel room, she seems almost wilfully ignorant of the legal aspects. Of course she doesn’t own the hotel room. She may have “made it her own” in an aesthetic sense, like every house she has lived in (she has never actually bought her own house) but every improvement she makes to the room is an investment in someone else’s property. It’s a matter of fixtures and chattels. One reviewer on Goodreads thought that having the protagonist spend that much money to decorate the room indicated that All Fours was intended to be "cartoonish", but I'm not so sure. In the real world, one can pay $5,000 for a copy of July's limited edition 2022 art book Services. It's available for sale on the publisher's website—you don't have to enquire to discover the price, or organize finance. Supposedly, it's something you'd just pick up. It seems all too likely that $20,000 seems like a significant amount to July, but not crazy money.

To me, though, July seems to have consciously chosen to focus on matters other than the purely materialistic. The problematic of her narrative is not “how to earn it” but “how to spend it”. Sure, she’s insanely privileged, but she can’t be expected to write perceptively about anything other than her own experience.

On a psychic level, July’s refurbishment of the motel room is recognizably a kind of cathexis. It’s an intense investment of mental energy into a particular site. Is she trying to create a second womb for herself to hide out in? Would that be a sign of primary narcissism (the desire to shut out the world and return to the security and omnipotence of the time before birth)? She seems to address this possibility at the end of the book. She is watching her former lover Davey dancing in a theatre in New York:

He was still rising as I looked around slowly, smelling tonka bean.  Of course none of the furniture was here, not the great chairs or the pink bed or the marble-topped table, but the theater now felt eerily like the room. Safe and full of holy potential.  I swallowed and sat back.  Suddenly I wanted to stay here and for this to go on and on, but from the music I could tell the performance was almost over; it would end when he landed. Any second now I’d be clapping, the lights would come up. In the meantime he was still rising and the warm, hallowed feeling kept growing; I could feel it expanding beyond the walls, into the street. It would still be there when I got outside, gilding the whole neighborhood, the whole city. Indeed the whole world was the motel room. The whole universe? Yes, everything was the room; you could not step outside of it, not even by dying.  And he was still rising, into the air.  If 321 was everywhere then every day was Wednesday, and I could always be how I was in the room. Imperfect, ungendered, game, unashamed. I had everything I needed in my pockets, a full soul.

This seemingly accepting, integrated grasp of the world is offered as a refutation of the idea that July’s protagonist is trying to escape from reality into some kind of ideal dream.

It goes without saying that Miranda July is a romantic (to a fault). She also seems perpetually on-edge, a little uptight—as one web page remarks, somewhat unkindly: “It is hard not to think of the characters Kristen Wiig played on SNL, or in Anchorman 2—awkward, passive,��grating”. It’s possible to put all that to one side in course of the mediated experience of a book. Her voice in the audiobook edition is expressive and assertive, while the character whose life it describes is often less so. It’s as a performer that July’s unexpected charm comes to the surface. That’s what she is celebrated for.

Inevitably, July’s story doesn’t involve public service, activism, or a real engagement with the local community in Monrovia, the town where she spontaneously beds down. It’s just not her topic. This emphasis on celebrity (for example, the protagonist’s preoccupation with having a private meeting with the pop singer Arkanda) is an essential part of the book. I suppose community is essentually bland, while July’s concern is with risk-taking and intensity of experience (erotic or otherwise). All the same, her emphasis on individual growth and experience seems to have no counterbalance in terms of ramifying social ties. July’s character floats along in the world of a (admittedly, relatively minor) celebrity, seemingly unaware of the possibilities and responsibilities of solidarity with the mass of ordinary people. But then again, this might be an illusion created by the focus she chose for the narrative of All Fours, rather than a real limitation of July's actual life.