#yes i know this would be a logistical nightmare but it's so funny in my head

[echthr0s]

I think it's interesting that the Watcher's only other life mentioned in canon is the one with Iovara. I mean, it's probably just to keep things simple in an already-complex plot but I think they should have like 15 past lives all competing for dominance. All the different dialogue options you get in the game should be various past lives giving the Watcher dialogue suggestions based on their own dispositions. The Watcher sees Maerwald struggling with the cacophony of his Awakened soul and is like "RIP to that guy but we're different :) --wait, who said that."

[imhereformysciencefriends]

Blow this popcicle stand

My gift for @missycolorful for the @technoblade-gift-exchange

Read on AO3 here!

I had a total blast writing this! I hope you enjoy as well. I admit I kinda smushed together a couple of your prompts, but I am very happy with the result. Enjoy! <3

**

Phil was, historically, better at the talking-to-people thing. Not necessarily the being-reasonable thing, Techno did often have to sit in on all of Phil’s meetings in order to prevent unnecessary bloodshed due to, quote, “it’d be funny, mate,” unquote. But talking to people, talking was something Phil could and did do. Techno? Not so much. He didn’t, he didn’t really care for it, you know. Wasn’t really his forte.

But Phil was busy in a month-long series of meetings negotiating a new peace agreement with a nation that wanted regular access to the moon portal (financially a very good move for the Empire, logistically a nightmare). And while Techno would really prefer to be in those, both to have a comprehensive set of expectations for what would be happening in the future and to keep an eye on his partner, it wasn’t the only nation that wanted the Empire’s attention.

And Techno was, if not suited, at the very least capable of trade negotiations with one of their friendlier allies.

Even if he hated the idea.

His thick, heavy, fur-necked cape moved with his arms as he pulled his long hair back into a ponytail, the sound of his hooves ringing out against the arctic stone rather slowly as he approached the meeting room. Almost like he was dragging his feet. But jokes on you, Chat, Techno didn’t have feet to drag! So clearly he was getting there at a very reasonable pace. And wasn’t stalling. No chance of that, not with him, haha, nope!

Despite it being his literal actual destination, Techno found himself surprised when he was suddenly in front of the meeting room door. Who authorized this? Ninja doors, sittin’ around jumpscaring good hardworking emperors. Probably Phil, the weeb. Actually, Techno should try to remember this bit for later, he was sure Phil would love the notion of a ninja door. Get a good laugh outta that one.

Focus. He did still have to, you know, open the door. Have the pre-scheduled and entirely-foreseen meeting that would take place behind it.

Was that the alarm bell he heard? Off in the distance? Wayyyyy far away in the distance? No? Just him then? Alright.

No, Chat, he wasn’t stalling. He was just securing the perimeter with his superior hearing before engaging with outside forces. Yes he had superior hearing, look at the pink shell of his ears, sticking out of his face like that. What, no, he was not a bishounen, Chat, under no circumstances was anyone allowed to call him that. Honestly, the ideas that Chat got in their heads, smh.

Okay! Okay! He wasn’t stalling! He was opening the door now!

Inside the meeting room was the Essempi convoy, its three main representatives seated on the couch that faced the massive armchair Techno took. Next to his was a significantly smaller armchair, specifically designed to accommodate a man’s wings.

Not for nothing, Techno wished Phil was here.

“Welcome to the Empire,” he started, because that sounded most appropriate. Already, the back of his neck felt hot and damp with sweat. That’s why he put his hair up, he supposed.

“Thank you for having us,” replied the woman in the middle, leaning forward across the low table to extend her hand. Shoot, handshakes, should he have done that before he sat down? Did Phil normally do that? Techno was suddenly blanking on any social interaction he’d ever had prior to this one in his life.

Her hand was firm, warm, and had shallow calluses. The strong grip of a woman who worked and wasn’t intimidated by Techno in the slightest. Would it be easier for him if she was intimidated? More importantly, had Techno met her before? Her voice seemed… familiar. Ish. Familiarish.

Niki! That’s Nihachu Her name is Nikki, you’ve met her before Niki! Nikki? I never know which it is

“Uh, Niki, is it?”

She laughed, and it wasn’t a mean sound. Techno felt his face heating up anyway. “You remembered!” The look on her face wasn’t pity, nor offense, but she gave off the impression of being very knowing of what was going on in Techno’s brain, “My hair was brown last time we met, with the blonde in the front.”

Oh! Okay, yes, Techno could place her now. She’d been invited to the same weird political shindig festival party thing that Phil had dragged him to.

“Nice to see you again,” he said, a little more sincerely. And a touch relieved.

“You as well,” she said warmly, then gestured to the woman to her right. Er, well, to her left, Techno’s right—didn’t matter. “This is Captain Puffy, she’s a state-sponsored merchant we’ve been working closely with. She’s interested to see if she’d be a good match for this route, depending on what we work out.”

“Yo!”

Captain Puffy was an extremely short woman (maybe even shorter than Phil), though far from petite. Her big curling hair and big curling ram horns and big sunglasses and big captain’s coat all spoke to a relatively large personality, and the big smile she flashed him did not actually help settle Techno’s nerves. Maybe he should’ve had some tea or something before all this. She was also slouching, leaned against the arm of the couch with all the debonair swagger of a woman entirely at ease around important people. As an emperor of one of the world’s fastest growing empires, Techno could probably stand to take a page from her book.

Whose idea had it been to put him in charge, again? Oh right, his.

Gesturing to her other side, Niki continued, “And this is Ranboo. He’s something between a pupil and a little brother, to me; he’s mostly just here for this to be a learning experience.”

As short as the captain was, Ranboo was tall. Wraith-thin with too-big eyes and an air about him that seemed even more nervous than Techno felt. Techno at least had his flat affect and “monotone” voice (he still didn’t get that, but enough people had told him that he had a monotone by now that he just accepted it) to act as buffer. This kid (and Techno got a very strong impression that he was young, despite not knowing much about Ender ages (well, maybe he knew more than most, given the Empire’s plot-relevant access to the moon)) wasn’t so much as wearing his heart on his sleeve as he was stringing it up on a chandelier.

“Nice to meet you both,” Techno said, the captain giving him a lazy salute and Ranboo nodding so stiffly it looked like his neck might snap.

“Shall we get straight to it, then?” Niki asked, and Techno nodded, so incredibly thankful that someone else was comfortable taking charge of a conversation.

And then they sank blissfully into the thing that was Techno’s strong suit: his stuff. Techno had a good head for what items were worth, and while he wasn’t the most organized person (he had goons for that) he absolutely knew how much he had of what, and what the Empire could afford to spare in trading efforts, provided they received what they were promised in return. Now, storms could sink even the most experienced ships, and fleets could get blown off course, so he had to factor in wiggle room and contingency plans as well.

Another strong suit. Techno was a beast at contingency plans. Nobody could plan a contingency plan like Techno planned his plans.

The deeper they got into the numbers game and talk of resources, the more Techno chilled out. This wasn’t socializing, not really. He was mostly just indulging in his inventory vices while other people were in the room.

Something Essempi had in plenty that the Empire desperately needed was food. More specifically: vegetation. They had their arctic, thick-furred cows, their fluffy chickens, their heavy-hided boars, their densely-wooled sheep, and their round the clock fisheries. Nothing would breed too close to the moon portal, but here at the castle their herds and flocks were thriving just fine. But plants? That took underground greenhouses with low ceilings and constant torchlight to do anything. And a growing empire was a hungry thing: greenhouses alone weren’t going to be sustainable. Not long term.

Techno had his reservations about putting too much faith in their allies. A resource as important as food needed more than one source.

But. Techno’s reservations wouldn’t spontaneously feed everybody, and Essempi had been friendly and amicable all through negotiations. All things considered, they were probably the closest and most trustworthy ally the Empire had.

And their representatives didn’t make Techno want to melt into a puddle or stab anybody! So. Points all around in their favor. Niki did most of the talking, her voice soft and cheery, clearly the most familiar with Essempi resources and used to political negotiations. The captain would chime in mostly around the actual act of trade itself, naval logs and star charts and detailed maps crowding her end of the low table. Ranboo, as Niki mentioned, didn’t say… anything at all, the whole meeting. He just sat, straight-spined enough to put the strictest governess to shame and making eye contact with nobody, scratching notes into a book he’d brought.

Essempi was offering them good deals. More than fair, if Techno was being entirely honest. And he knew he didn’t have any personal charm to thank for that. He filed that away for future reference. Either Essempi was even more well off than rumors suspected, or there would come a day when they asked the Empire to pay back their generosity (likely with swords and soldiers, if the history books held any credence).

But that was fine. In the now, they were offering lucrative details for necessary resources. (In the future, Phil would need enrichment anyway (Techno, too, he did love a good fight)). Techno would still probably want to set up a couple additional trade agreements with other nations, just in case, just to cover all his bases. And the greenhouses obviously weren’t going anywhere, Techno would not be sacrificing even an ounce of pre-established self-sufficiency.

But even Techno, of all people, had to admit that he was feeling pretty optimistic by the time they all stood and shook hands in parting. He remembered to shake Puffy’s and Ranboo’s this time, Puffy’s hand tiny and grip strong, Ranboo’s slender fingers still faintly trembling with nerves but his smile seeming at the very least half-genuine.

Woof. Ough. His back. The time! The sun set early here, but he was still surprised to see that it had sunk below the horizon while he was squirreled away looking at documents and maps and an antique abacus. His staff seemed to agree, yawning and musing over dinner plans as the two groups dispersed, the Essempi convoy headed towards the guest quarters and Techno and his officials wandering further inwards of the castle.

“Well done in there, Your Majesty!” praised one of Techno’s staff while he wasn’t looking, and he was too embarrassed to admit that he hadn’t quite managed to catch who was talking, so he just raised a hand and gave a vague “Ayup” before leaving quickly. Much quicker than he had arrived, as it happened. So interesting, that things worked out like that.

“Busy day?” Phil asked as the door to the royal quarters clicked shut. Techno sighed heavily and let his head thunk back against the heavy wood. Phil, the intolerable jerk, giggled at him.

“Why weren’t you the one handling that again?”

“Because the little stunt we pulled was just a biiiiiit too successful,” Phil reminded with another chuckle, and Techno groaned as he shoved off the door.

It had been a gambit, but as a fledgling nation the Antarctic Empire had needed to gain the attention of the rest of the world, and gain their attention they had. An extremely brief, brutal, there-then-gone conquest that had left the vast majority of the world temporarily under the Empire’s claim. It served two purposes, each a message:

Do not, under any circumstances, make enemies of the Empire.

Probably a good idea to play nice and make friends, though.

Most of the world had taken the first message very much to heart, and the testing nudges they’d been making abruptly vanished. Some nations, like Essempi, had quickly jumped to playing nice, eager to make powerful allies (and perhaps just as eager to make sure they didn’t have a powerful enemy).

A couple nations had taken message number one as a challenge, and readied warships with bloodied thirst.

Not that the Empire couldn’t handle a bit of… rough play, but it did mean that after squashing attempts at overthrowing or subjugating them, Phil got saddled with miles of paperwork establishing the enemy’s surrender and the Empire’s new normal.

“I thought you were meeting with the guys who wanted moon access today?” Techno asked as he approached. Phil’d had dinner brought to their rooms, as they did most nights when they weren’t expected to make an appearance, and Techno let into the meat and eggs with gusto.

“That’s tomorrow. Tonight was more surrender talk.”

“So that’s why you double booked us. You wanted ‘em alone in a room with you.”

Phil giggled, waggling his fingers so as to make a show of his talons.

Techno gave a very half-hearted kick to his shin. Quarter-hearted. Maybe even sixth-hearted. Phil cackled at him.

“Can’t let you outta my sight for ten minutes,” Techno groused around a mouthful of chicken. Phil popped a handful of red berries into his mouth (some of the only vegetation that could be grown outside of the greenhouses), and he looked altogether too smug.

“How’re things with Essempi going? Off to a running start?”

“Actually? Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“I like the representative they sent over, Niki, she’s got a good head on her shoulders, and so far they’ve been fair, if not generous.” Techno gave his partner a meaningful glance. “We should probably expect a request for military aid, sometime in the future.”

Phil shrugged, entirely unfazed. “We’ve always known that’s a possibility. And we’re not exactly hurting for it.”

“Figured as much.” Techno lifted his plate to slide the eggs into his open mouth, the fork method far too slow. “Honestly don’t think this deal is gonna take too long to finalize. Week, probably?”

“For you? That’s a goddamn miracle, mate.”

Techno snorted. “I know, right? She’s got a pupil along with her, skinny guy named Ranboo. Showin’ him the ropes.”

Phil spluttered a laugh. “And she chose you for a practice round!?”

“I know right? Like, c’mon, cut the guy some slack. He looked ready to shake out of his skin. Don’t just throw him off the deep end chanting ‘blood for the blood god’ like there’s gotta be less intimidatin’ guys than me out there.”

Phil giggled and Techno continued, “Brought a ship captain too, Puffy, shorter than you and louder. She’s been a good help settin’ realistic expectations, but I dunno how involved she’s gonna be in the rest of our meetings.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a pretty good handle on it, mate. Good for you, good for you.”

Techno snorted. “Never thought we’d see the day.”

“Aww, I knew you could do it.” Techno cast him yet another look. He giggled. “Eventually.”

Techno guffawed and set his plate down, dropping his head back. By the Blood God, he felt tired.

“Well,” Phil continued, stretching his arms above his head and his wings out to each side, “nobody got attacked and no emergencies happened, so I’ll call this day a win.”

“Ah, but I did get attacked,” Techno said with a raised finger, remembering his joke from earlier.

“Oh?” Phil asked, with all the sharp-eyed curiosity of a man who knew a punchline was coming, but was trying to tell where from.

Techno heaved his head back up. “In the halls of our own very castle. I was caught off-guard—very brutally, I should add—by a ninja door.”

Phil broke immediately into cackles.

“Snuck up on me while I was just innocently walkin’ down the hall, Phil. Never would’ve expected it. One of our own doors. The betrayal was immense.”

“whAT?” Phil giggle-shouted, his feathers poofing and his shoulders shaking.

“I was just mindin’ my own business when bam! Suddenly the door was right there. Scared the life out of me. Don’t worry, Phil, I showed it who was boss. I twisted that handle like I was born for it.”

Phil was now laughing so hard tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.

Techno grinned, warmth glowing in the center of his chest. Truthfully, it probably wasn’t that funny of a joke, but the combination of fatigue, the subject being unexpected, and Phil being an easy audience made it sound like ninja doors were the funniest thing in the whole world.

The night was still young, but Techno was utterly drained from the day of talking (and tomorrow would be much the same) so he called it an early night. Phil, equally tired from twisting arms into surrender (and maybe getting to play a little mean with his talons, who knew. Not Techno! Techno hadn’t been there to reel him in!) was more than happy to agree.

This far south, sleeping in your own bed was about as smart as wandering the town naked. Too much warmth leached out that way. It was only sensible that family members shared a bed together, with drapes around the edges to keep the air captive.

Techno had no family to speak of, except the one, so the two emperors dressed for the night and crawled in together, Phil’s top wing spread out over them like an added blanket and his icy little feet pressed up against Techno’s leg.

“Why are you always an ice cube?” Techno groused, gathering his friend in his arms.

“Shhhh, you’re just a friggin’ blast furnace, mate. Go to sleep.”

Techno huffed, breath stirring Phi’s hair and making him chuckle, then nuzzled down into the blankets and his companion, wishing he could hibernate the day off. Blood God himself, he was tired.

But wake the next morning he did, and the next, and the next after that. Essempi eventually embarked for their home, along with the first shipment of goods from the Empire. More countries entered peace treaties with them, or at the very least non-aggression pacts, particularly as more nations fell to the Antarctic Empire’s might. Trade was good, their people sleeping with full bellies and a more or less nutritionally balanced diet. The Empire produced plenty of coal, in its cavernous depths, and many nations of warmer climates had want for the ice they so easily chiseled up from around them.

Things were good.

Techno was getting… better, about the whole talking to people thing. After the first few days, Ranboo had started speaking, and Techno had found a kindred spirit in him. The two now exchanged regular correspondence. Mostly about books, but sometimes they’d share personal stories or gossip (apparently Captain Puffy was working very closely with a certain someone, indeed). Meetings were no longer torments summoned directly from hell (not that Techno liked them, but Techno was pretty sure he was never actually going to like meetings (honestly, he was pretty sure nobody did)). He and Phil were getting a pretty good handle on this whole, “being emperors” thing.

That said, politically motivated social functions were still the worst. But Essempi was, to date, still their closest and friendliest ally, and Techno knew enough about court niceties by now to know that regardless of how much he might’ve wanted to, he and Phil could not turn down their invitation to a ball.

“What even is the point of balls,” Techno groused as he examined the flimsy nothings the tailor had made for him to wear there. Too thin of a material, not nearly enough fur around his neck, he’d freeze to death in this in an instant. He… did like the gold bits, though. He’d conceded on that. And the jewelry. Those parts were nice. The rest of it was like walking around in wet paper, though.

“Maintaining positive social ties with political figures we’ve already established with and makin’ new friends with new people at a designated function for doing so—”

“I was bein’ sarcastic, Phil,” Techno cut off the overly-formal lecture, making Phil cackle. “It’s called a rhetorical question, Phil, ever heard of it?”

“Can’t say I have, mate,” Phil lied with a giggle.

“A rhetorical question is a—” Techno started, overly-formal lecture of his own primed and at the ready, and Phil swatted him with a big black wing, setting them both to laughing.

The boat ride to Essempi went about as well as anticipated. Phil flitted about, happily assisting with the crow’s nest and upper rigging, and Techno spent about half of it bent over the railing, the other half desperately attempting to coax water and ginger teas into his stomach that he didn’t immediately upend.

“We should build a land bridge,” Techno groused when his friend came over to both hydrate and mock him.

Phil, predictably, laughed, “Mate, I don’t know if even we mine up enough stone for that,” he said as he passed a water flask over. Techno swished it around his mouth and spit, trying to rid himself of the now everpresent taste of bile, then sipped slowly and delicately, his stomach groaning pathetically and churning at even that.

“Then we’re building flying machines and we’re taking those. Planes, blimps, hot air balloons, I don’t care, this is the last trip I sail anywhere.”

“Blimp’s not a bad idea,” Phil mused as Techno shut his eyes, bracing himself against the railing with renewed force and willing the nausea to pass him over without taking his water with it. “It’d be more regal and dignified than staggerin’ off a boat dehydrated and starved and swaying.”

“Gonna punch you for that.”

“Are you now?” he asked with a giggle.

“Ayup. Just give me three to five business days to get off this railing and then it’s over for you. It’s so over for you.”

More laughter. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Well, I’m off to go perch in the crow’s nest again, have fun pukin’ your guts out.”

“Death. Death and violence.”

His friend’s retreating laughter left him and he stewed in abject misery for the rest of the trip. By the time they hit land and Techno was able to collapse into a bed that wasn’t swaying every which way, he was even looking forward to the party, since it meant not being on the boat.

The flimsy cheesecloth the tailor had prepared for him made more sense in this warmer climate, and now that he wasn’t being a stubborn child about it he had to admit: he cleaned up good. Deep red and gold and black, Phil his match but green, they were striking, appearing wealthy and deadly and even, somehow, regal.

Despite, y’know, it being the two of them.

The party goers were respectful, nobody jumping at the chance to speak with the Antarctic emperors but no one intentionally snubbing them either, and Techno mostly just had to loom behind Phil with a ridiculously shatterable little wine flute pinched delicately between his fingers and listen. Answer the occasional polite question that was directed his way, make sure Phil didn’t get too excited at any perceived slight, it was almost even normal.

He was at the food table, piling high a plate he intended to share with his co-emperor, when he heard a familiar, boisterous voice.

“Emperor Technoblade!”

“Captain,” he greeted, turning to her. She extended her drinking glass, and he gently clinked his against it. “They’re lettin’ riffraff like you in here?”

Puffy barked a sharp laugh, loud and unabashed. “I’m a plus one.”

“Oh?” Techno raised an eyebrow. “You and Niki official, then?”

Puffy squinted. “And how exactly do you know about that?”

Techno smirked behind the rim of his glass. “I have informants everywhere.”

Puffy laughed, once again boisterous and booming, and landed a playful punch just barely above Techno’s elbow. Haha why are you so short.jpeg. Oh c’mon Chat that joke is not old that’s still peak comedy right there.

“Man, I can’t believe everyone’s so intimidated by you.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you saw me in a fight,” Techno countered, amused.

“And you wouldn’t say that if you saw me in one, blood boy!”

Techno arched an eyebrow. “Blood boy,” that was a new one. In their trade with Essempi, Techno and Phil had gotten to know the sea captain a little better each time she was in their port, and she’d taken to treating them with the same friendly irreverence she spoke to everyone with.

Techno set his plate down on the edge of the table, largely crowded out by the serving dishes but finding just enough space for it to not go falling over. Intentionally, he loomed over her, his impressive height casting her fully in shadow, and let himself grin.

“Careful, Captain. It’s not smart to threaten me with a good time.”

As tolerable as the party was thus far, Techno would be lying if he said he wouldn’t ditch in half a heartbeat to go screw around. And after the miserable journey here, a good friendly sparring match with a spunky lady sounded like even more fun than usual.

Puffy rocked up on her hooves, and even on the tips while Techno was stooping down she couldn’t really get “in” his face but he understood the gesture. His grin widened. It matched her own.

“What’s the matter, big boy, don’t think you could take me?”

“Miss Puffy, um, you promised Miss Niki you wouldn’t cause a scene,” came a timid voice from nearby, and both Techno and Captain Puffy perked.

“Ranboo,” Techno greeted, scooping up his plate of food and crossing the distance to his young friend.

“Hello, Emperor Technoblade, it’s nice to see you, please don’t encourage her.”

“Good to see you too,” Techno said warmly, meaning it. Through their letters, Techno had come to regard the young Enderian as a good friend.

Puffy gasped as she trotted over, and shoved right up into Ranboo’s space. “Are you the nark?”

“Um,” Ranboo said, backing slowly away only to be further crowded by a sheep woman half his height, clearly confused, “no?”

“Yeah, Captain, what’s with this baseless accusation you’re makin’ against my good pal Ranboo?”

“I can’t believe this. Betrayed by my own girlfriend’s tagalong.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about??”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Techno said, slinging an arm over Ranboo’s shoulders and nearly bowling the guy over with its weight. Techno had seen bamboo shoots with more structural integrity, smh.

“E-either way, please do not help Miss Puffy make a scene. Miss Niki specifically instructed her not to do that.”

“Guess we’ll just have to go somewhere there’s nobody else around,” Puffy said, still full of good cheer.

“True. Can’t make a scene if there’s no one to see it.”

“Oh, no. I. I’m going to go get Miss Niki.” Techno barked a laugh but released Ranboo to go do so, and Puffy waggled her fingers at his retreating backside.

“Kayyyy. We won’t be here when you get back!”

Techno glanced down at the plate in his hand. Hm. Well, he couldn’t just return it all to the serving dishes, he’d already touched it. Puffy nudged him with her elbow, and when he glanced her way he found her pulling at her wide neckline and winking at him. With her other hand, she lifted the neck of a bottle of what surely must be rum, and he caught on immediately. Using one of the overly-fancy napkins, he bundled his snacks and passed them to her, watching her disappear them into her clothes. That was so smart, he’d have to talk to his tailor about providing him that kind of opportunity in future outfits.

His loyalty to his co-emperor did him in, though. Puffy was already heading out one of the patio doors, sneaking off into a well-maintained garden, but Techno detoured to grab Phil, knowing if there was going to be any fighting, for fun or for murder, he’d be heartbroken if Techno left him out.

“Emperor Technoblade,” greeted Niki from behind him while he was trying to wait out the conversation Phil was currently engaged in. She sounded icier than when she’d been in his antarctic home, negotiating trade.

Busted.

“Hello, Niki,” he returned. Definitely not sounding guilty. Nothing going on over here officer, no suspicious activity whatsoever.

“It seems my partner for the evening has vacated the premises. Would you care to dance with me in her place?”

“Uhhhhh.” Techno wasn’t the best at court niceties, but he knew a request from a “request.” He took her outstretched hand.

“What uh—why the sudden interest?” Oh that sounded so suspicious he could stab himself.

“Can a lowly civic servant not ask an emperor for a dance?”

“Uhhhh no, no that’s fine. That’s uh, that’s fine, just, haven’t uh—how you been, Niki, haven’t seen you in a while!” he not-so-subtly changed the subject.

“I have been alright. Times have been better for us than in a long time, and I have been kept busy making sure it all stays in running order.”

“Not too busy, I hope?”

Niki laughed, but it wasn’t the most mirthful sound he’d ever heard.

In some of Ranboo’s letters, he’d voiced concern for his mentor/sister figure, writing of nightmares and insomnia that was only partially due to her high workload.

“Cause stressin’ yourself out can take a toll on the body, you know,” Techno pushed, not sure if it was his place to or not, but eh. He liked Niki. She was a good sensible woman who (normally) didn’t make him feel like dying or killing out of sheer mortification. And during negotiations, she’d been friendly. “It’s important to take breaks and have fun, every now and then.”

She pursed her lips in a frown, and it looked so much like she was pouting that he chuckled. “C’mon, take a load off.” He grinned at her, playful and a little teasing. “There’s a very pretty girl outside who I know would just love to have you come goof off with us.”

“Well now that’s not out of the ordinary. That very pretty girl is always trying to get me to goof off.”

“Maybe you should listen to her more often.”

Niki sighed and let Techno spin her, the dress she’d chosen for the party flaring nicely. “Maybe I should.”

“Yeahhhhhhhh that’s the spirit! Come join us! We’ll make, like, a bookclub or something.”

Niki let out a “pfft,” and then giggled quietly. “I should put that in my credentials somewhere. ‘In a bookclub with an emperor.’”

“Two emperors if I can get him away from those—what are they, petty nobles?”

“Ambassadors from Kpop.”

“Cringe. We gotta get outta here, Niki, I can feel my viewership dropping by the moment.”

“I don’t know what that means—Technoblade!”

In a grand sweeping movement that was definitely not typical but could still technically be considered dancing, Techno rushed the two of them towards the patio, catching Phil’s eye just briefly enough to give a jerk of his chin, watching his friend’s eyes light up with curiosity and mirth.

Okay, good, Phil was coming.

“Really,” Niki scolded, but she wasn’t resisting him at all as he dragged her along, out into the privacy of the manicured foliage and beyond.

“Ehhh, relaaax. Nobody saw us leave. Probably.”

“I am quite sure a great many people saw us leave.”

“Eh. Phil and I already talked to everybody important that would get, like, big mad if we didn’t. We can ditch.”

“I am part of the hosting party.”

“Aaaaaaaaand now you’re not. So it’s fine, it’s fiiiine.”

Niki giggled, and it sounded just a little more genuine. Good. He was getting a good grade in cheering Niki up, something reasonable to want and possible to achieve.

“Heyyyyyy, look what the pig dragged in!” Puffy cheered, bottle open in one hand and waving excitedly with the other.

“You are incorrigible. I cannot believe you dragged an emperor in on your shenanigans.”

“This is actually pretty consistent with my character honey, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Techno barked a laugh and snagged the bottle from her, taking a big gulp before extending it towards Niki.

“I am surrounded by ruffians,” she said, but he noted she took the bottle and a big drink of her own.

“Ehhh, I wouldn’t really call two people ‘surrounded,’ maybe sandwiched?” A familiar sound of wings had Techno’s elbow angling up on instinct, and soon he had a shoulder full of best friend. “Okay, Phil’s here, now you’re surrounded.”

“Who’re we surrounding?”

“We’re forcing Niki to take a load off and have a nice evening.”

“Pog.”

“Cheers to that, Emperor number two!”

Phil spluttered around laughter as he hopped from his perch. “I’m just the number two now, am I?” He took the bottle from Niki, who went and leaned on her laughing girlfriend and pressed a kiss atop one of her horns.

The sound of footsteps and not-so-subtle huffing and puffing had them all turning to look. It was far too loud to be any kind of assassin, so nobody was on guard, and Phil took another swig of rum as Ranboo rounded a hedge.

Realizing his late entry made all eyes fall on him, Ranboo flushed. Huh. He turned kinda greenish on one side and a more typical red on the other. Pogchamp, Techno supposed.

“Uh,” he said, still catching his breath a bit. “Um. Miss Niki, you, uh, left the party.”

“Sorry Ranboo,” she said, looking honestly chagrined. “I did not mean to leave you there on your own.”

Ah. Left alone by the extrovert that adopted you at a party that wasn’t your idea to attend in the first place. A fate worse than death, which Techno would not wish on his worst enemy, much less friend.

“Um. Why is, everyone here, and not, inside?” he asked, tail twitching and lashing with his agitation.

“We’re ditching,” Techno said, slinging an arm around the little beanpole once again. “You are too.”

“I’m—what?” Ranboo spluttered as Techno dragged him forward, starting the group into a slow amble further from the noises of the party, Niki looking at him with apology and Puffy cheering around a laugh.

“Yeah, mate, you’re a delinquent now!” Phil said brightly, pushing Ranboo from behind while Techno pulled. “Gotta play hookie with us.”

“I, um, I uh, well,” he stammered, twisting his fingers, looking about between them and finding absolutely no help.

“You’re bein’ peer pressured. We’re peer pressurin’ you. Just come goof off with us, Ranboo, join the dark side, we have cookies.”

“We do, actually,” Puffy said, taking the rum back and finishing off the bottle. “I’ve got enough snacks hidden in my various pockets to feed an army.”

“Absolute pogchamp.”

“Oh I knew you were up to something!”

“Always,” Puffy said with a wink, rising up onto her hooftips to kiss Niki’s cheek.

“I, uh…” Ranboo sighed. It was a great heaving thing, making him sound more and more like a dejected cat.

“Yeahhhh! One Ranboo, officially roped into our nonsense. Gang’s all here now, gang’s all here.”

“So what’re we doing?” Phil asked cheerfully, crossing his wrists behind his head in a strikingly anime fashion.

“Well, the captain and I were gonna fight—” Phil’s eyes lit up in an excited glint, drawn to the allure of playful violence, “—but since we’ve got Niki and Ranboo now I say we just goof around on the beach.”

“That… does actually sound kind of nice,” Niki admitted, and Ranboo’s whole body perked hopefully. Techno gave one noodle arm a nudge with an elbow and sent him a quick wink. They’d get that girl to take a load off and enjoy herself, even if it took all four of them to do it.

A rustling, too large to be a rabbit, came from a bush ahead of them, just on that seam of land where dirt shifted into sand. Not a moment later, out spilled a man, a man wearing a bright blue onesie.

“Connor?!?” asked all five of them, equally shocked.

“Hey heyyyyyyy, guyyyyys,” Connor said, one leg still trapped inside the bush, splayed out on his back and craning his neck back to look at them, lifting a hand in a peace sign. “How’s it going?”

“Connor, what are you doing here?” Niki asked, concerned.

“Wait, how do you know Connor?” Phil asked.

“How do you know Connor?” Ranboo countered, Niki helping pry the man loose from the bush’s terrible clutches and more or less right himself on his feet.

“Oh, I get around a lot,” Connor said blithely, “At this point I know most people.”

For a moment, they stood in a loose circle, staring silently at one another.

A bottle uncorked and attention turned to Puffy. “I mean, I also know Connor,” she said, taking a swig of something new. “Wanna come screw around on the beach with us? I brought snacks.”

“Oh fuck yeah.”

And screw around they did. Mostly just walking and talking under starlight, the ocean breeze cool but only as much to be pleasant. They found a nice flat rock to take a sit on and Puffy shared the many treats she’d secreted, everyone chowing down and laughing around jokes and conversation. Phil and Puffy got into a wrestling match in the sand at one point, Connor braided uneven sections of Puffy’s hair while Niki pleated nice, neat rows, Techno and Ranboo discussed the recent installment of a book series they’d both been following and that Ranboo had shipped a copy of, knowing Techno would want one and wouldn’t want to wait long enough to place the order all the way from Antarctica.

Phil perched on Techno’s shoulders for no reason other than to feel tall, Connor relayed a tale so wild no one was sure if Connor could actually have survived that sort of thing, or if he was just making up shit as he went along, and Niki was laughing with her whole chest, flush to her cheeks and a weight lifted from her.

It was a good evening. A good night, as the moon rose higher and the distant, far-off sounds of partying wound lower. Their group was winding down as well, conversation fading into companionable silence.

Niki’s weight slumped against Techno’s side, and he glanced down to find the woman asleep.

“Gotter,” he teased softly, nudging Ranboo on his other side.

“Oh, good,” he said fondly, peering around Techno and ending up leaning on him too, as a result. Phil chuckled from above, still perched on Techno’s shoulders. Connor munched away at the remaining snacks, seated on the sand in front of the flat stone, and Puffy leaned contentedly back on her hands on Niki’s other side, staring up at the starlight.

Techno still might not be the best at talking to people, but even he had to admit: if it meant getting him here, on a night that he would’ve otherwise slogged through in a stuffy party full of people he didn’t know, he was pretty glad he’d done so.

Ayup. Not a bad place for him to be.

[oceansprompts]

𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕧𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕠𝕡𝕤 // 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕪 𝟚 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤

this dialogue taken from destiny 2's vanguard ops strikes; hypernet current, lake of shadows, and the arm dealer. . . . adjusted for general use. . . . change as needed for usage

Let us hope that your technology continues to be resilient.

We need to get in there and stop them.

Screams, weird voices, nightmares... you name it.

It's resilient, but not impenetrable. A backdoor wouldn't be impossible.

Hopefully getting rid of whatever is at the center of this will shake all that weirdness out of the system too.

It looks like you're getting closer to the source of the problem. That track nearby looks like your best bet!

Let's just hope it's stable.

What-what was that?

Such a fragile space. This will do.

You don't want to see the pot of tea I made this morning.

Civilians are depending on you.

Mobilizing team for Operation, uh... Babydog? Why does this say Babydog? I must have forgotten to reboot the name generator.

Operation "Babydog?" Well, it has a certain ring to it, huh?

Yes... "Babydog" ... Well, the protocol is already running. Can't stop it now.

Yes, sorry, Operation "Babydog" ...We need to determine the source of — Haha! — I'm sorry, I can't.... Stand-by!

Our purification tech can only do so much. If the contamination spreads, people will die.

Good work. There's bound to be more than one.

We're making good progress, but energy readings are still off the charts.

This place is old; good thing we can't get tetanus.

If for nothing else but principle, I'm glad you're reclaiming it.

They just left that unguard...? This smells fishy to me.

Time for me to step out. I leave it to you.

Usually for an operation like this, logistical support would be provided. But it sounds like it's just us this time around.

Where'd you put my datapad? It had the notes about that thing I'm in charge of.

Into the action right away. I'm not surprised. You're up.

Whoa, wait wait wait, I'm not ready! I had a whole thing for this guy — I had charts and pictures — you know what, the one time I get it all — geez, forget it. You know what, just forget it.

Door's unlocked. But I couldn't get through without tripping their master alarm.

Not a trade I would have made, but you're the one on the ground.

Come on, how bad could one little alarm be?

Good different or bad different?

Did I just see a FLARE shoot into the sky?

Did you shoot up a flare? I thought we weren't allowed to have flares anymore after I… had nothing to do with why we're not allowed to have flares.

That's me! I must have… Oh, wait a minute. Nope not me.

Plan, schman. Take the radioactive thing, put in explode-y place. There! There's your plan.

Is this what "be brave" means for you? Didn't know it was a prayer.

Yeah, not blowing up is as good as you can hope for sometimes.

Way to reach for the stars.

Sounded like a nice dunk!

This guy's no ordinary space rhino. His weapons ain't half bad, either.

He's bound to have more. Insecure men tend to surround themselves with others like them.

Nope, she's totally right. Which is why I work alone.

I'm sorry, painted it what now?

Yeah, funny story about the Oh-roh? Oh-roh… Oh-roh-bahn… uh…

I think you should call it "payback."

Could be some really weird defenses in there. Not just flame turrets - I'm talking REALLY weird.

Why would they put a tank inside a ship?

Remember that elevator? Looks like we have to bring it down again.

Ok. Well, there are many… levels of easy.

Please don't encourage him

Oh, come on! ANOTHER one?

Wait, wait wait! Let me guess — giant flame turret.

Try to grab his flame turret blueprints after he's dead.

Watch for air support. This guy's too smart to not have a backup plan.

Eh, backup plans are overrated.

This is it. We've got him cornered… in an airfield. OK…

Now we've got you! In a… place you know way better than us. But that won't stop us. Let's get him!

Watch your six. And your twelve. You know what — just — just be careful

Sounds like I returned at just the right time. Excellent work, team.

Thanks, boss! It was by the book, the whole way.

Ok, you all are getting way too formal. Where's the energy? Let's hear some chatter out there! Huh?

The job's done. You can handle the chatter for a while.

You ever been hit with a rock? Don't joke about that.

YOU miscalculated?

Yes. Do you have any further questions?

It seems this new guy has done some “redecorating.” Although I don’t think I can call this an upgrade in terms of taste. But perhaps the cannons could be of use?

Names hold power. It is not unlikely that this new guy is a successor, who has taken up the mantle.

Unless we disable that shield, we’re sitting ducks out here!

That shield is making me mad! We’ve got to get rid of it!

Well fought! We’ve cut another head off the proverbial Hydra.

[veltana]

6, 11, 15, and 19, please and thank you 💖

Cursed and deranged fanfic writer Q&A

6. What nasty/evil/maladjusted character traits do you enjoy exploring in your little meow-meows?

I think it's probably the possessiveness. In theory, and in fics/books, it's hot af but if a friend had a partner acting like that I would try to get them out of that asap. But I also don't write dark fics so I guess mine aren't as bad as many others.

11. Have you ever tested the logistics of a sex scene you're writing in real life, and did the other person(s) know it was for fanfic?

HAHAHA YES I HAVE 🙈🙈🙈 I asked my partner to help and he didn't know but he really didn't care why I wanted his help in the end 😂

15. Which of the four AO3 Archive Warnings is your favourite (or your most used)?

Huh, I count six warnings in total so maybe I'm misunderstanding the question… but “Choose not to use archive warnings” is always a gamble! It might be fun, I might get traumatized, who knows 🤷‍♀️🤣

19. You have to choose one of your works for a cherished relative, teacher, guardian, etc. to read - which one do you send them?

Oh no! This is my nightmare 😬 it would have to be one of the NOASAY prequels because they're kind of tame! Reader's break-up is also kind of funny so probably that!

Thank you Jeanen ❤️❤️❤️

[lumberjackloverboy-moved]

Re: wtf is going on in the UK.

This is LONG. TWs: sexual assault mention, conversion therapy mention (brief), ableism/transphobia/racism mentions, COVID, death mention (brief).

I'm unfortunate enough to live on the hell island so:

Boris Johnson, PM, massive cunt. Hated by everyone including the people who voted for him, he took over following Theresa May's resignation (who took over after the previous guy's resignation too because no PM wants to even touch the whole Brexit mess because the whole thing is a political and logistical nightmare).

Boris fucks up a whole bunch. First he fucks up Brexit more than anyone thought possible, getting the UK the absolute least amount of anything because he's so far up his own arse that he can't accept that sometimes, other countries give stuff to each other as exchanges. Wild stuff.

He cuts benefits to lower classes, raises prices, all the usual evil Tory bullshit. ("tory" uk slang for "conservative", specially the conservative party, which is kind of like our version of republicans). Life for almost all classes gets objectively worse under his regime, but particularly for minorities (as fucking always). I'm trans and disabled myself and he: cut benefits for disabled people, refused to review the Gender Equality Act (the only thing allowing trans ppl to transition/be recognized legally, super outdated and in desperate need of review), and refused to ban conversion therapy for trans people. He's also INCREDIBLY racist (what a shock) and has passed bills that essentially make it legal for immigrants to be locked up without trial. At one point there was a plan in place to abduct immigrants, put them on a plane and ship them to Rwanda rather than allow them to live here. I wish I was joking - the European Human Rights Council literally had to step in to tell Boris that no you can't just fucking do that to people wtf.

Then covid hits and Boris fucks up so unbelievably badly that it's been deemed criminally negligible. Refusing to go into lockdown, easing lockdown too early, refusing to fire members of Parliament who broke lockdown rules, refusing extra funding to the NHS to help them deal with the crisis, etc. Etc. If I listed everything this would be a novel. At one point, it was advised by healthcare experts that a lockdown should take place over Christmas (coz winter = more infections) at which point Boris said and I quote "let the bodies pile high". As in he'd rather the "bodies pile high" than go into quarantine.

During this time, there are also a number of sex scandals - Boris' marriages (plural) fall apart because he cannot for the life of him stop cheating, and multiple Tory MPs (members of Parliament) are caught in sexual harassment scandals. Boris handles these extremely poorly, attempting to brush them under the rug.

Aug 2020, the Tories under Boris' leadership refuse to allow funding to pass that would provide free meals to impoverished children. Luckily the whole country freaked the fuck out over this (funny enough even the most bigoted far-righters generally don't want children to starve to death) and they changed their mind. Still, the initial decision and the fact that it was only repealed after the public reacted was. NOT popular to say the least.

THEN a little while later it turns out that Boris attended and hosted a bunch of parties at No. 10 during quarantine. Since he was the one enforcing quarantines, this hugely tips the country against him - especially since his initial reaction is a continuously-unbelievable string of lies. It started with "There were no parties", but then photos of parties were uncovered. Then it was "The parties weren't at my place and I didn't know about them", photos of parties specifically at No. 10 (his literal house) were uncovered. Then it was "Ok yes the parties were at my place but I didn't go to them I just stayed upstairs whilst the party was downstairs " (bruh. Fucking what.) Photos emerge of Boris AT A PARTY in his house because of COURSE he was there, at which point he panics because his lies have bitten him in the arse and gives out a halfhearted apology.

This "apology" is followed by a scheme he sets up with his most trusted followers to save his dead reputation. The scheme was uncovered (unfortunately for him) and it was called "Operation Save Big Dog" im fucking dying he called himself big dog what a sad pathetic man lmaoo

Anyways. Basically, everyone hates him and the Tory government enact something called a "Vote Of No Confidence". It's them saying "yes he's the leader of our party but we all hate him too". Normally, a PM or party leader resigns after one of these (not much point being in charge if even the rest of your own fuckin party all hate you), but Boris is a sad wet leaf who can't accept defeat so he refuses.

Tensions build, everything is kind of a mess politically. The opposing party, Labour, is run by a man who has never made a decision in his life and is essentially unelectable, but nobody knows how it's gonna work if Boris doesn't step down. Nobody is happy, and life gets progressively worse for another few months.

Then.

The breaking point.

Another sexual assault. This time, Tory MP Chris Pincher, who has had a NUMBER of allegations of assault before and was only IN parliament because Boris insisted on re-hiring him, is caught assaulting two people after he got drunk on a night out. He is only there because Boris claims he, and I quote, "forgot" about his previous assaults.

This is the final straw. On Tuesday 5th July 2022, within the space of an hour, two of the most powerful and prominent politicians in parliament (whole lotta Ps but you get me) quit. Specifically, the Health Secretary Sajid Javid and the Chancellor of the Exchequer Rishi Sunak. So the guys at the HEADS of the departments in charge of the country's Healthcare and Money both quit, within minutes of one another, and one of them does it live on TV.

These resignations trigger a whole shit ton more; within the next 24 hours, over 40 MPs resign - the previous record was 6 resignations in 24hrs and that was decades ago.

Since Tuesday when this all started, over 60 people (around 1/6th of the entire Tory government) has quit, including highly important Cabinet positions that essentially means the country currently has no government leaders.

Boris finally, FINALLY admits defeat. He announces his resignation on 8th July 2022 with all the dignity and grace of pile of wet dogshit falling out a broken doggiebag and slopping onto the pavement. He's publicly and privately humiliated (as he SHOULD be). He's currently saying he'll leave in a couple of months so they have time to find his replacement- most people are pretty sure it's just so he can use government funding to pay for a fancy wedding party he wants to host in a few weeks.

And that's what's happened in the UK right now. The United Kingdom is on the brink of collapse (I'm Irish, FUCKING MANIFESTING🌟💫❤️🌟💫❤️💫), the government HAS collapsed, the UK is currently left with no government leaders, no political party in charge, and no Prime Minister. The Tory government has officially burned itself down after years of bullshit, and now we're waiting for the fire to go out so we can see how the fuck to pick up the pieces.

I, and everyone else who hates the Tories (which is most of the country at this point, including those who voted Tory to begin with), am sat back with popcorn watching the motherfucker burn. Hope he dies lol

holy. fucking. shit.

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About "Echoes of the Past" from The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who most certainly won’t read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

What probably gets debated the most in the fandom is the legitimacy behind King being the King of Demons. Some believe that there's truth to his statement, while others, like me, like to think that he was just some stray Eda picked up off the streets. Either option seemed likely, especially since Season One never gave an answer that leaned one way or the other.

Then here comes the writers finally answering the question of who King is in episode THREE of Season Two! Because, again, they don't waste time on giving fans exactly what they want.

Fans wanted answers behind King, we got 'em, and analyzing what those answers mean requires going deep into spoilers. So if you haven't checked the episode out yet, I highly recommend that you do. Trust me, it's worth seeing.

Now let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Luz Experimenting with Spells: Hey, look! More proof that Luz isn't an idiot like some people flanderize her to be!

But, seriously though, this is a perfect little thread to introduce into the story. Luz collecting knowledge from Lilith's old books and past work she and Eda made adds to Luz's intelligence while also providing a believable explanation for how she gets new spells. It's also nice to see that she has this little notebook (or spellbook) to help see what works and what doesn't. It's a level of experimentation that proves her dedication to becoming a witch while also exemplifying how she isn't stupid. Occasionally reckless, sure, but you can't say that the person who figured out an invisibility spell through showing her work is also an idiot.

Francios with a Knife: How did Francois get a knife? I don't know. But the fact that a random knife plopped out behind him with little to no explanation is funny, and I will not hear otherwise.

I don't make the rules. I just abide by them.

Luz’s Invisibility Spell: I breezed past this, but I honestly love this invisibility spell. More specifically, I love that there's a limiter. It can turn you, objects, and people you're in contact with invisible, but only as long as you can hold your breath. It helps make the spell something the characters can't always rely on, which is appreciated. Because if it works as long as they concentrate, what's stopping them from sneaking into Belos' castle and assassinating him in his sleep? It's a smart way of explaining why they can't always rely on something, despite how insanely useful it is.

Luz: Let's gush about Luz some more, shall we!

"Echoes of the Past" is another episode that has Luz on top form. She is constantly supportive of King, even if Lilith has a point in the dangers of indulging his fantasy as a powerful tyrant. Doing so would cause more harm than good, especially when King finds out Luz doesn't believe him, but her going along with it was all done with the best of intentions. Luz doesn't want to hurt her friend, and even if she did in the long run, she still makes up for it by helping King learn more about his past.

And, as another reminder, Luz isn't stupid. She's the first to say they should leave when it's clear how dangerous the castle is and is quick to figure out there should be more at the top. Luz is a loyal and caring friend who's also guarded and intuitive when the situation calls for it. This episode understood that, so here's hoping other fans will too.

Lilith: Yeah, she's still growing on me.

I feel like this episode shows a better idea of Lilith's place in the group more than the past two. She's a person who's obsessed with knowledge and learning but considers herself above the jovial nature of King, Luz, and definitely Eda. Therefore, she acts as the perfect catalyst for what jumpstarts this week's adventure. It doesn't surprise me in the slightest that she almost instantly dismisses King's claims due to considering herself more knowledgeable than everyone else. Still, I like how she's willing to believe King once she finally sees evidence that seemingly proves he really was the King of Demons, to the point of referring to him as "her lord." Hooty does the same thing, but it comes across as him fearing for his own life and choosing to be friends with someone who could maybe kill him in an instant. For Lilith, her newfound respect comes from the desire to learn more, and it's that desire that makes Lilith an enjoyable character to me. It's adorable to see, and it has some comedic flavor in moments like when she dismisses everyone else and their emotional revelations to take pictures of the carvings around her. I'm sure she'll cause some controversy like other characters with rushed reformations, but for me, I'm more than ok with her addition to the main cast.

More of Lilith’s and Hooty’s Friendship: HOW DOES THIS WORK!?

ON PAPER, IT SEEMS LIKE IT WOULD BE A BAD IDEA, BUT IT F**KING WORKS!

HOW?!

WHAT BLACK MAGIC DID THESE WRITERS USE TO MAKE A RELATIONSHIP SO UNEXPECTED COME ACROSS AS SO ENDEARING AND ADORABLE?!

And where can I get some for my stories...just asking.

But seriously: HOW?!

Hooty Making Himself Portable: Ah, yes. The classic bit where a character does something horrifically grotesque off-screen, and we have nothing but character reactions and sound effects to imagine what happened between shot A and shot B. It's an oldie, but given how hard I was laughing (mostly because of Luz's gagging), it's still a goodie.

Eda’s Portable Bathtub Boat Thing: I mean...I was expecting Eda would use something to catch up with the others, but...that thing...well...I mean, I'm still laughing just by thinking about it. That should tell you how well executed this joke was.

John Luke: ...I'm gonna go ahead and add him to the list because HOLY S**T was this guy disturbing! From his design to his movements to even the sounds he makes when moving, everything about John Luke screams as something that will stay in kids' nightmares for a while. Now, this might seem like a complaint, but to be honest, I'm more than alright with how creepy John Luke is. I highly doubt adult viewers will consider John Luke scary, but I guarantee he'll terrify some of the youngins that this series is aimed for. And that's fine. It's good to creep kids out a little bit with something somewhat scary, as it might introduce them to more good horror stories later in life.

Plus, the reveal that John Luke was only a guard for King is pretty solid narratively speaking. You can see how John never really meant to hurt King aside from one accident when Eda escaped with him. If you want to read into it, I guess it might be questionable to tell kids that something that looks dangerous is secretly nice, but that's really nitpicky, in my opinion. John Luke was a fantastic threat that is designed and animated well, with a solidly executed twist. Some might hate what he presents, most will fear him, but we can all agree on one thing: His theme is awesome (can I get the track for that, please)!

King’s Backstory: Finally, at long last, we know who King is, thus putting an end to a year-long debate. And I fully mean it when I say that the writers gave the best possible answer. Because in a way, everyone was right. Yes, King was just an animal that Eda decided to adopt, like the nature-loving hippie she is inside (She's got the hair for it). However, while he may not be the King of Demons himself, he is still the son of someone who deserves that title. So while he isn't the King, there's a chance he might be the Prince. Once again, there's no direct answer, but given how the writers came up with something that pleases everyone while still providing more questions for debate, it acts as a brilliant move, in my opinion. So whatever answer we get next, I'm sure it will be just as perfect.

Baby King:

My heart was not prepared for that level of cuteness!

King’s Breakdown: NOR WAS IT READY FOR THIS LEVEL OF SADNESS!

But in all seriousness, a HUGE round of applause to Alex Hirsch for his performance in this episode. He expertly captured the raw emotions of shock, anger, betrayal, and sadness that King must have felt when finding out that everything he believed he was is a lie. It's one of those moments where I don't hear a person voicing lines in a booth (or wherever the hell VAs are voicing characters nowadays), but instead hear a living person being emotionally torn apart. It was heartbreaking seeing King so vulnerable as he's so guarded with his emotions. Seeing him like this adds so much more layers to a character that many would mistake him as a cute, comedic animal sidekick. But just like with Luz, there's more to him than people will tell you.

“I don’t even know what’s real or fake anymore!”: I'm just pointing out this line because I believe it's what convinces Luz to help King learn more about who he is. Hell, not knowing what's real or fake is the main reason why Luz got sent away in the first place, so I feel like she can relate to King when he's in a similar predicament.

Hooty and Lilith vs John Luke: This was just a cool scene with some epic moments of dodging John Luke's attacks and some funny ones, like how Hooty said the word "pain." It's a ten out of ten that I would rewind to watch again.

King’s Other Horn: I'd question the logistics of how a horn that got broken off when he was a baby still manages to fit perfectly in the present...but it is neat symbolism of King accepting his past and letting it be a part of him, so who cares?

(The fact that the colors of the broken-off piece don't match the rest of the horn is nice attention to detail as well.)

WHAT I DISLIKED

It's a Little Too Predictable: I pretty much figured almost every little twist the episode offers. But, I'm willing to say that's because I'm in my twenties, and I've seen enough stories similar to this one, so I'm more likely to know what will happen. The little monsters watching this will see it for the first time, so they'll most likely get more surprised than me...And that was my only complaint about the episode...which is more of a personal problem than an actual issue...I guess that means it's perfect.

IN CONCLUSION

"Echoes of the Past" is an easy A+ in my book. It gives lore and backstory that furtherly develops the characters that episodes like this should. It also tells a tragic story about King that still sprinkles in a few good jokes every now and again to lighten up the mood. Sure, there are some nitpicks I could mention (how did King remember his own birth?). But when the good stuff is done so well, what's the point of dwelling on small, insignificant issues? This is still a phenomenal episode that flew past all expectations I had for it, and it continues the winning steak this season is having so far.

(But that's still three home runs in a row. Meaning that a stinker is coming. Ooiee, is it coming!)

[bloodstained-ballgowns]

Things I... didn’t like as much, about Black Widow (2021):

Disclaimer: I loved this movie. I would give it 4/5 stars overall. This is a lot of nit-picking. Most of the choices I’m talking about here I still really enjoyed, but this is how I would change them to improve it *for me*. If you disagree, that’s fine! Obviously, spoilers.

I said in my ‘Things I Loved About Black Widow’ post that I consider the first 53 minutes to be perfect, and the rest to be not-so-perfect. This is where I complain about the not-so-perfect stuff. They didn’t drop the ball on the third act, they just...fumbled it a bit. It stayed dark, but to me, it lost a bit of its grit. Cate Shortland’s influence really shone through in the first act, but it got lost around the second and third acts for me because of how Marvel-y it got.

Firstly, I’m considering the hand-to-hand combat here to be second only to CATWS. So why did that element basically dissolve towards the end of the film? She barely fought anyone in the prison breakout. Yes, Natasha fought the Widows, but that was all slowmo-y and widows-bites-y and did not have the same level of choreography. I wish they’d carried it through. 

Talking of action, there was not enough of it between Natasha and Taskmaster (who is getting a whole other post, because that is a bag of mixed feelings I don’t want to delve into here), particularly in the third act. Action isn’t something I’m particularly interested in but I was excited for this dynamic. Antonia wasn’t the villain, but like, the bridge fight did not effectively demonstrate her whole mirroring deal. Yelena and Nat’s fight had more mirroring than her and Tasky’s. Antonia’s skill set really shines in hand-to-hand onscreen, but as I said, I felt that kind of dissolved in the third act. They completely cheated us out of an impressive showdown when Natasha let Antonia out of the cell and moved backwards and I totally thought they were going to duel...which would lead into the sky fight...and then...the room cracks and they’re blown apart?? Hmmm.

Why was the Red Room in the sky??? I get that they were moving around a lot and this movie needed to have some kind of Marvel explosive finale and it looked cool and everything but I prefer the comics’ more grounded version. I just think it would have been more effective for Natasha and Yelena to walk through the old halls of the building they grew up/were trained in, find the new facility underground or something and then blow the whole place to smithereens. It would have actually cemented the whole ‘going back to where it all started’ thing.

Now I know the reason for Dreykov’s off-screen demise was to show how a man as purely evil as him didn’t deserve a major, glorified death. He deserved the death of an afterthought. But I would have liked to see Nat plunge a knife into his heart. Or to see him try to go after Yelena somehow and Nat just shoot him in the back of the head. It didn’t feel like they gave us any closure on that front, particularly as they made a whole deal about Nat not seeing the body in Budapest...and then we didn’t see the body here either. I almost feel like his death was made so insignificant that it was forgettable.

The whole flashing back and showing that actually they did have everything figured out did not work for me, it felt like lazy writing. It gave me “BET YOU DIDN’T SEE THAT COMING, BET YOU UNDERESTIMATED HER, LOOK HOW CLEVER NATASHA IS! DIDN’T YOU UNDERESTIMATE HER? SHE HAD IT ALL FIGURED OUT YOU FOOLS HARHARHAR” vibes and I was just like...I know. Literally, I know how clever and calculated she is. I knew she wouldn’t have been outplayed like that at Melina’s. Maybe other people didn’t, but come on guys, think up with something a little less ‘gotcha’.

What the hell happened with Nat and Ross before they cut to ‘two weeks later’? *confusion intensifies*

Again, this is getting long. See the read-more.

This movie had a lot of bases to cover and a lot of information to convey and I think the script managed that pretty well overall, but it did lapse into a bit of ‘show-don’t-tell’ syndrome at times. Show me Nat’s mother being ‘relentless’ in her search, don’t just tell me about it. I did not want Renner’s Clint Barton in this movie, but they could have made the Budapest flashback a smidge longer, for my liking.

Disney would never do this, but I would have loved an R-rated Black Widow movie. Yelena is absolutely a character that would yell ‘Fuck!’ really loudly (think Florence Pugh in that cactus video). My suggestions above for Dreykov’s death were me being reserved: Nat stabbing him repeatedly would have been so cathartic (for me, idk about her).

Y’all know I’m a slut for Nat’s everything in this movie, particularly the hair, but goddammit the hair. Riddle me this, if Nat had in a perfectly good braid when she got into the helicopter, why did she emerge with flowing locks and one tiny useless plait on the left side of her head?? And then she redid that into the ponytail with all the little braids while preparing for battle at Melina’s (never mind the fact that Nat’s hair would not have been long enough for them to reach much past her shoulders as well as being tied up) and fit it all under a Melina-wig! HELLO, LOGISTICAL NIGHTMARE SPEAKING.

I’m pretty sure the whole Nat-not-understanding-science-speak thing was only there for the “In English”-*replies in Russian* gag but it still seemed a little ooc since she’s never had a problem with it before. Idk if I would class this is as Nat ‘playing dumb’ to get more information like she does later with Dreykov since Yelena is readily giving her that info, and Yelena is also good enough to realise when she’s being manipulated like that.

Ummmm whole separate post for reasoning and such but the magic dust antidote? Not a vibe. No thank you. Lazy. Unrealistic. 

So...Alexei and Melina. It’s not that I don’t like them as characters - I really enjoyed them, I think they’re great characters. Fascinating to analyse. Did I love the Ohio mission sequence? Yes. Did I really appreciate the family dynamic and all the fanfic possibilities it gave us? Yes. But do I wish they weren’t in this movie at all? Yeah, kinda. The family dynamic was funny, and it was heartwarming, and it was heartbreaking, because it was executed so well, but the fact is that it was added by Kevin Feige to make this movie more palatable for the wider audience. Alexei’s dad jokes breaking the tension were probably an imperative for most audiences to enjoy the film. (Yelena’s dry sarcasm could have filled that role easily for me). But I didn’t want the tension broken. I didn’t want people to relax. I wanted them to come out and have to decompress because it was so intense. It’s easier to market a film about ‘family and going back to the past’ than ‘female subjugation and exploitation’. I don’t appreciate it, but I get it. Making this into a quasi-ensemble piece in the second and third acts just irritated me though. I wanted all the screentime possible to be on Natasha and Yelena. They could totally have pulled it off without their parents.

This really is nitpicky, but would a Liho mention have been too much to ask for? It would have been so easy, when Yelena asked “did you ever wish for kids?”, Nat could have replied with “i have a cat”, which is a good deflection but also informative, or her lockscreen could have lit up to show a tiny black kitten. Idk, this movie used a couple of good comics references and I guess I was hoping for one more.

*whispers and runs away* Bucky should have been here. Goddammit.

In conclusion, a lot of my critiques could be fixed if we didn’t live in a time where this film still had to be palatable for wider audiences who do not care about characters nearly as much as they care about action or humour or plot or spectacle. A lot of the strong choices paid off (they’ve riled up dudebros enough to prove that). The Marvel-y ending and Alexei’s humour did not. The rest is just logistical errors and missed opportunities.

This is a lot of complaining but I promise, these annoyances are much more minor than I’m making them out to be. The movie is magnificent even with them.

[phoebenavarro]

the fading sun

I haven’t posted any of my writing here in a very long time but I’m rather proud of this piece so, why not. part of my “Jon decides Tim is the only person he can trust in s2″ AU, but can be read on it’s own

the magnus archives, jontim, 1,456 words 

on ao3 here

Jon is the most tactile person Tim has ever met. It came as a bit of a surprise to him, because of the general vibe Jon has projected the entire time they’ve known each other, but as they’ve gotten closer, Tim has learned that Jon only allows himself to be like this with people he trusts, and Jon has never trusted many people. Tim feels all warm and fuzzy, knowing he’s one of the few people Jon trusts. So Tim holds Jon, and Jon clings to him like a lifeline. Jon is wrapped around him, with his head resting on Tim’s chest, and Tim is stroking Jon’s hair when a thought strikes him, and he snorts. Jon hums an inquisitive tone.

“Nothing really,” Tim says, “I just realized that this…..” he gestures between them, “Whatever this is. Us. Is the most stable relationship I’ve had in years.” Jon huffs out a half laugh, a little bitter.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

Tim lets that sit in the air for a few minutes, enjoying the calm between them.

“What are we?” he asks, “Are we a couple? Romantically, I mean.”

Jon considers it. “I don’t know, are we?” he replies, lifting his head to look at Tim with a raised eyebrow. Tim pulls Jon up to face him more comfortably.

“Oh no, you’re not turning the question back on me,” Tim says, a little indignant, then, softer, “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t interested.”

Jon has definitely thought about it. He’s thought about how his relationship with Tim really isn’t that different from any other romantic relationship he’s had in his life. The main difference is the lack of kissing (or well, snogging, but Jon hates that word), and going out on dates. Tim is handsome, and kind, and funny, and he’s the only person who makes Jon feel safe, the only person who understands exactly what Jon is going through.

So yes, it’s safe to say Jon is interested.

“I’d like that,” Jon says, shyly, “If you would.”

“Oh, I absolutely would.” Tim waggles his eyebrows at him, a large grin spreading across his face. Jon smiles back at him for a second, before his brain decides to ruin the moment for him.

“I’m asexual,” Jon blurts out. He winces, embarrassed at his own self. He’s never been good at this part. Tim sits up a bit, leaning on his elbow. He looks a little surprised, but not shocked at the sudden change in topic.

“I mean, I figured?” he says. Jon’s brain short circuits.

“You… What?”

Tim gestures to the black ring on Jon’s middle finger. “The ring. That’s an ace thing, right?”

“Oh!” Jon looks down at his hand. “Yes, uh.” Georgie gave it to him, shortly after he figured out he was ace. She was the first person to accept that he didn’t really want sex, and she was integral in helping him discover that there was a word for the way he felt. “I— Sometimes I forget I’m wearing it, and that other people know what it means.” Tim nods.

Jon plows on, unable to stop talking. He hasn’t dated in a long time, since before he got the head archivist position, so he hasn’t had to do the ‘coming out to a potential romantic partner’ spiel in a while. He’s always anxious about it, but with Tim, he’s terrified. Not that he thinks Tim will react badly, but… Every person he’s dated since Georgie lost interest after he came out to them. He knows that, statistically, his asexuality couldn’t have been the reason for all of them, especially when he considered his difficult personality, but the last thing Jon wants is to ruin what he and Tim have now.

“I don’t experience sexual attraction, I never have, and I just want you to know that sex isn’t something I’m interested in, except on very rare occasions. An— and it’s nothing you’ve done, it’s just me. It’s how I am.” He wishes he could blame it on a low libido, but it’s a lot more complicated than that.

Tim is looking at him with such gentleness that he thinks he might cry.

“Jon,” he says, “That is okay. More than okay, really. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”

“I mean— I don’t—“ Jon sighs, “I know that sex is something that you enjoy.”

Tim laughs a little, because now it’s his turn to explain a complicated subject.

“Yeah, sure, I have been known to enjoy casual sex,” an understatement, “But it’s not something I’ve been doing lately.” He sighs, unsure of how to explain it. “After Danny I was just… Numb, for so long, and hooking up with people was an easy way to feel something. It was a coping mechanism, I guess, but it really wasn’t healthy, so I stopped. Not that I stopped hooking up with people completely, but y’know, going on dates with people first and making more genuine connections instead of just… using them. And then Prentiss happened, and well, I haven’t exactly been sleeping with anybody.

“I know what my reputation was in Research. and I first liked you because you were never all judgmental about that. So if you never want to have sex with me, I’m fine with that.”

“Well, I didn’t say never,” Jon mutters. He knows he gives off a ‘never’ kind of vibe, (and he was, for a long time, until he figured out what he likes and how he likes it), but he genuinely enjoys sex, on occasion. Usually the issue is that he’s too much in his own head, thinking too much about the logistics, the vulnerability required, that it’s too much trouble, but it can be different with someone he trusts.

“That didn’t come out right,” Tim says, “I don’t want you to think that you’re a burden, or something. Because you’re not, and I want to give this a go, with you, because you’re you, and I love you.”

Jon stares at Tim, dumbstruck for a moment, because it is such a painfully Tim way to say it, and Jon once again feels like he could cry.

“Thank you,” he says, “I appreciate you saying that. Other people have not taken it well, in the past.”

“Fuck that,” Tim responds, “I’m sorry people were shitty.”

“Guess we’ve got that in common,” Jon says.

“Yeah,” Tim sighs, “Bi ace solidarity?”

Jon nods and leans in closer to Tim. “Kiss me?”

Tim doesn’t need to be asked twice. He’s been thinking about it fairly often for the past few weeks. He presses his lips against Jon’s, gentle and chaste.Jon melts against him. Tim doesn’t want to push things too far, since they haven’t had a real conversation about boundaries, so they just trade soft, sweet kisses for a while. It feels simultaneously novel and intimate, and Tim finds himself thinking that he would be content to stay in this moment forever.

After some time, Jon pulls away, a small grin across his face.

“Alright?” Tim asks gently.

“Very much so,” Jon replies.

“Hey, if we’re dating, is it weird if I still call you boss?” Tim asks, humor back in his voice.

“Only if you’re into that,” Jon deadpans, and Tim laughs that delighted laugh he reserves for when Jon surprises him with a joke.

“Oh Christ,” Jon says, as he thinks about the implications of dating someone who is technically his employee, “HR is gonna be a nightmare about this.”

“I mean… Who says we have to tell them?” Tim says, and Jon stares at him, affronted. “Yes, alright, I’m sure the employee handbook has lots to say on the subject, but this stopped being a normal job the moment we got attacked by a worm lady, so forgive me if I don’t see the point in doing the proper HR paperwork.”

“I suppose you have a point.”

“I genuinely don’t think there’s much we can do at this point that would make Elias fire us. And if he did fire us for dating I would leave a hell of a bad review on GlassDoor.”

Jon smiles. “I don’t think academics really use GlassDoor.”

“Whatever,” Tim shrugs, “I think HR would also have a thing or two to say about me sharing a bed with my boss every night for the past few months.”

Jon’s face goes red at that. “Yes, alright. We won’t tell anyone.”

“I’ll make it up to you. We could go on a real, proper date? Go out to dinner, maybe see a movie?”

“I haven’t been to the cinema in ages,” Jon says, “ ‘Would be nice.”

Tim snickers. “Cinema. Alright, Grandad.”

Jon kisses him again to silence his teasing.

[gebtoons]

my contribution to the bapo timeline discourse bc i’m just gonna propose a timeline and will not be taking criticism <3 (under the cut bc this is gonna be a long post probably) 

ok disclaimer I am quite stupid, however I’m gonna use my knowledge from my own 12 years in american public high school and what little info I have about american boarding schools/catholic schools that I have from my friends lol. so. idk. 

i’m also gonna date songs/major events and i’m gonna be taking some “just trust me bro” liberties bc y’all are right it does NOT make that much sense. 

January 6: Epiphany; this is like an actual holiday lol. like its always on the sixth. idk its good that this is the starting point bc its an actual date yknow? For the purposes of this timeline were going with that its early in the week, so lets go with Monday idk

January 6-13: You and I, Role of a Lifetime; so we’re all kinda in agreement that this timeline (at least the beginning) only really makes sense if you and i/role of a lifetime aren’t like. a singular moment and are instead multiple days. so yeah, of this first week, this is like. monday-next sunday ish yknow. 

January 14: Auditions, Plain Jane Fatass; ok so having auditions for a spring musical right after kids get back from break actually makes perfect sense to me, like i can see it being like “ok take break to prepare so as soon as you come back we can have auditions so we can jump right into rehersals” yknow? and since the rave is clearly on a friday (”we’ll meet in tanya’s room on friday night”) so i’m going with the monday before.  

as for pjf, i know it doesn’t make a ton of sense for them to get a two week late birthday package their first few weeks back from school, but hear me out it makes sense. the implication throughout this entire show is that the twins have decently shitty parents. from bits of dialogue (in this song in particular lol) i’m kinda inferring their the “only concerned with how their kids make them look to others” kind of neglectful. so I don’t think it’s too outside the realm of possibility that they went away for the holidays, didn’t bring the twins, and instead mailed them a birthday package and having it show up two weeks late. realistically the timing of this isnt that important and the explicit “two week” time frame could’ve been an exaggeration on nadia’s part to mock her shit parents (idk its in her character) basically ppl are a little two fixated on this imo but anyway. moving on. 

January 18: Wonderland, A Quiet Night At Home, Rolling, Best Kept Secret; a very agreed upon point in the timeline. its the friday following the auditions. moving on. 

January 21: Confession; also very agreed upon. the monday following the rave. moving on again 

January 23: Portrait of a Girl; the date here is kinda arbitrary, but bc sister chantelle says “ok lets try to put yesterday’s rehearsal behind us” and i for the life of me cannot think of a scene she could be referring to (there’s none in the script either) that implies it wasn’t the same monday as confession (bc even in a boarding school i think holding extracurriculars that aren’t sports over the weekend (especially when they are no where near crunch time lol) is weird and not common) so i just picked a random day during the week

January 25: Birthday Bitch!, One Kiss, Are You There?; from matt’s line in wonderland, ivy’s birthday is a week after the rave. in my timeline that’s january 25th (an aquarius queen). 

btw given all grown up’s “17, how will i manage?” ivy is 16 during 17 at her party, which is strange given shes a high school senior and seniors are typically 17 during 18. so either a) she skipped a grade, not an unheard of thing. or b) shes not a senior, shes just a junior who hangs out with a bunch of seniors, which is also pretty common. and looking through the script i can’t find any mention that she is also a senior, other than yknow she graduates with them, but she isn’t mentioned during the class ranking scene? so idk not that it really matters just a fun detail 

February 3 (at night): 911 Emergency!; ok controversial. i know i like the joke about how its funny that peter having a weird dream when he was high prompted him to want to come out and really ruined his relationship with jason. BUT. i think the dream (despite it’s weirdness) would have a lot more meaning if it wasn’t the result of being really high, but if it was a dream he had like a week later as a result of a building sense of guilt/anxiety bc he told matt. also it fits better given later timeline things. (this timeline literally only exists if there are weird jumps in time that don’t make a ton of sense) (EDIT: I forgot one line about Jason crashing at ivys but fuck it forget that bitchass line this makes for more drama its staying this way)

February 4: Reputation Stain’d, Ever After; the next day following peter’s dream, idk what else to say, moving on. 

February 25-28: Spring; another jump! i’m sorry but the only way for this to make sense logistically is for there to be quite a few time jumps! however, i also think this one works bc i think it gives time for everything from around ivy’s party and peter and jason’s break up to stew emotionally. like obviously a musical only has so much time to tell a story so the audience cannot see every realistic beat, but honestly i think it makes the whole thing a little more dramatic™ if there’s space for everything to settle, and for ivy to come and apologize and such. also, the reason it’s multiple days is bc in the script, ivy is trying to study (presumably for some sort of midterm) while nadia is playing, so that probably takes place a few days before they move out, so before finals. but in the script, jason and peter are packing and peter is leaving, so that part of the song/staging takes place on the 28th. yes, that’s weird, but we are clearly thinking more about the logistics of this school than the writers were so. 

March 1: One; assuming st. cecilia’s works kinda like boarding schools here, they probably do staggered move out/move in, just bc that would be a lot to have people coming and going at once so it makes sense that peter left the day before, while jason and ivy are leaving the next day. also, given that peter is trying to call jason while he and ivy are banging, it’s probably been a hot minute since the actual break up, since peter was clearly very hurt by the whole thing, it would make sense (at least to me) that peter would reach out a month ish later, rather than like a few days later (you have to make so many assumptions to make this timeline work granted they aren’t super out there assumptions but still this is annoying) 

March 1-25: Spring Break. the coworkers I have who are in boarding school work over their school breaks, which are longer than the public school breaks (which are only a week) so i put their spring break at 3 weeks. it makes sense, and it makes the later part of the timeline make sense. 

I know i’m already halfway through this, but to me it makes sense for their to be quite a few time jumps in the story bc its a musical. they cannot show every day. there are a lot of other shows (particularly shows set in high schools) that are set over a whole school year, but if you just look at the events of the story that doesn’t make sense, so you have to imply that obviously they are not showing every little detail. moving on. 

March 25: Wedding Bells, In The Hallway, Touch My Soul; peter wakes up from his nightmare in the church, so im assuming he fell asleep in church (like he almost did during epiphany). also it makes sense that class ranks are announced in late march-early april, I know my school announced ours in like, the first week or so of april? so yeah. moving on.

(from this point on i was giving myself a headache trying to make it make sense so its all weird from here!!)

April 4: See Me, Warning; the date doesn’t really matter here, I picked a random day in early april. the script said peter is calling from him and jason’s old dorm room, as he was picking up the last of his things, so he clearly made the roommate switch after school started (makes sense to me). 

April 15-20 (approximately): Ivy finds out she’s pregnant. look google tells me on average people find out they are pregnant around 5-7 weeks after conception. i went with around 7 just so this timeline makes a tiny bit more sense given the later stuff, so yeah here we go. 

May 4: Pilgrim’s Hands, God Don’t Make No Trash, All Grown Up, Promise, Once Upon A Time, Cross; a rough night for our heroes. so given sister chantelle saying “again? wonderful.” and nadia saying “i can’t believe you missed rehearsal again”, clearly ivy has been missing quite a few rehearsals, so for dramas sake maybe from when she found out she was pregnant? also i know i’ve been saying they wouldn’t have rehearsals on weekends, and given my weird timeline this would be a saturday, but its tech week so i’ll allow it. 

May 5: Two Households, Bare, Queen Mab, A Glooming Peace; pretty self explanatory, and it makes sense to have the spring play in early may. rip jason. 

May 11: Absolution; the day before graduation peter goes to confront the priest. gives him a small amount of time to start processing, and it makes sense it would be the night before, at least to me. 

May 12: No Voice; i fucking hate this. “peter, we graduate next sunday” i hate that stupid fucking line. do you know that this timeline literally would be fine if it weren’t for that stupid fucking line? bc then, the school play would be in early may and graduation could be in late may-early june (when most high schools hold graduation) but no. keeping with continuity, they have to graduate the sunday following the school play. “peter we graduate in a month, are you really never gonna talk to me again?” would have been fine. but no, now we have beef. literally everything else about the end of this timeline being kinda weird would work itself out, except for the fucking graduation. god damn. anyway, may 12th, the graduate on may 12th which is really fucking weird bc of that one fucking line. whatever. i didn’t write the damn thing bc if i did i wouldn’t have written that fucking line. (i’ve been at this for over an hour and a half, so i’m a tad annoyed, can you tell?) 

anyway, that’s it. that’s my long as hell proposed bare timeline. if there’s anything glaringly wrong with it i don’t care bc this timeline literally cannot make sense. but honestly, now that i think about the Popular Tween High Schooler Musicals (heathers, bmc, deh) the timelines of those (especially heathers and bmc) don’t make tons of sense either. that’s just the way it is, that’s the way its gonna be. and we have to live with it. 

this post is so long it is actually slowing down my laptop as i type it

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Three: Chapter Eleven

(AO3 counterpart here.)

The silence continued into the dawn. No one got much sleep after Littlepaw’s vision. They were all afraid that they would be next.

Laurelclaw tried his best to stay positive, he really did. He pulled up as many hopeful, happy thoughts as he could while standing guard outside of Littlepaw’s den, ready to jump in and shake her out of another nightmare at the drop of a feather. Flyfang had tried to tell him to rest, but there was a silent understanding between the two that neither of them was going to sleep again when Littlepaw was at risk of falling back into whatever horrible space she had been in. Flyfang had conceded and gone into the den to be closer to her half-apprentice. When Laurelclaw glanced in occasionally, she was curled around Littlepaw’s tightly balled-up body, watching her with exhausted fear. He couldn’t blame her.

It wasn’t just that which made him fail to keep a happy image in his head. All of his happy images were of his family, the Plage – his mother, father, goofy deputy and snarky former mentor, among all the others, walking together, sharing jokes, watching the waves of the ocean rear and collapse, stretching their foam as far as it could go up the beach. The sense of companionship and confidence. Security in their strength as they stood together.

All of it suddenly felt so pointless, in the grand scheme of things. So temporary.

Laurelclaw fought against the dread that came with every reminder that his family was not going to a happy afterlife. He failed to keep it down. It soaked into his chest and stomach, sticking against the walls of his insides, making him sick. He shivered with nausea many times throughout the night.

The sun barely made it through the thick canopy above the makeshift camp. Laurelclaw hardly noticed it was daylight until Flyfang emerged from the den and shook out her fur. She wordlessly went off into the woods, tail dragging on the ground after her.

Everyone was awake and outside, sitting uncomfortably in silence, before Flyfang returned, carrying prey. Beetlefoot went with her to retrieve everything else she had caught, but there were still no words exchanged. They all formed a ring again and picked listlessly at their meals, nibbling without tasting.

Laurelclaw was absorbed in his own thoughts, but the tension eventually became too much to ignore. He followed his urge to say something.

“You know…” he started, and winced when everyone looked at him like he had shouted. “Imagining everyone’s reaction to all of this, it’s… it can be a little funny, I think.”

Silence. Every face was baffled. Laurelclaw internally berated himself and tried again.  

“It’s just me thinking about my mom, really,” he said while fighting off shakiness in his voice. “She’d- she would want to go to sleep and find StarClan and fight it to the death herself. She’d leap at the opportunity. But my dad, he’d run. He’d take the entire family with him – the whole Clan, probably – and flee as far as he could go. He was always a little timid like that.”

The silence calmed a little. Laurelclaw could see the others considering their own families.

“I think…” Flyfang’s eyes lifted up towards the treetops, contemplating. “I think the Marish would panic. My sisters, maybe they wouldn’t get it. They’d think it’s some monster from a story, something easy to beat on your way to becoming a hero. It’d be exciting for them.” Her voice lowered a little, tightened. “I’d prefer for them to think of it that way.”

Surprisingly, Beetlefoot spoke next. “I know the Fleet would all follow Redheart’s idea to get the entire Clan out of the Territory, if they could. Though everyone where I was born is… rather traditional. They prefer the aspects. But they still cling to them going to StarClan for their ‘good behavior’ and ‘righteous worship’. If they knew that all their praying and piousness meant nothing, they might just fling themselves into the river. Leap into the mouth of the beast. Get it over with as soon as possible.”

Laurelclaw looked at Beetlefoot, a little startled. It was the most he had ever said about himself. That tiny, weak cynicism in him remarked wryly about how of course it was unhappy and dour, coming from Beetlefoot. He told that part to hush and be nice.

“My mom wouldn’t believe it,” Littlepaw said, a bit muted and flat. She wasn’t looking at anyone. “She’d find every excuse under the sun to reason it away as a mistake or a lie.”

“Hard thing to convince anyone about,” Mistface said.

Laurelclaw couldn’t help some desperation in his voice. “Isn’t there anything we can do? We could warn everyone, right? Spread the word?”

Redheart sighed, more in a world-weary way than in annoyance with him (thankfully). “I’ve wanted to run around the Territory and tell everyone the truth so many times, Laurelclaw. But the Runagate’s been doing that for generations now, and they’ve barely gotten anywhere. We’re not the first ones to know about StarClan. We probably won’t be the last.”

“I don’t know how much we could do, anyway,” Greyleaf said. His claws were deeply sunk into the soft ground. “Who would believe a deputy on the run, and who would believe a healer, of all cats?”

“But Littlepaw-“ started Laurelclaw, but Redheart shook her head.

“She’s not a seer anymore,” she said. “And so many of our actual seers are fooled, StarClan can easily lie to them and call us insane. Littlepaw got lucky with the Runagate visiting her and StarClan trying to talk to her again, it seems.”

“‘Lucky’ is a real subjective word,” Mistface remarked. “Ain’t sure how lucky it is to see what y’all see.”

“About as lucky as bearing witness to a murder when no one else was around, I suppose,” Beetlefoot said darkly.

“You aren’t wrong.” Greyleaf looked down at his paws and carefully retracted his claws, grimacing. “It’s a stroke of incredible fortune that any of you believed us to begin with. I mean…” He looked to his brother. “You didn’t at first, right? Even you?”

Mistface gave him a non-smile. “Thought you might’ve been crazy for a minute, yes.”

“And he’s my brother.” Greyleaf turned back to everyone else. “The thing is that, yeah, you all believed us, but you’re a smaller group with at least relatively open minds, and it still took a second to win you over. Telling a much larger crowd, or a couple of strangers you’ve never spoken to before, that’s going to be a lot harder to convince.”

“That’s the trouble with all of us,” Darkpelt said suddenly. “I’ve noticed it in my line of work. Cats like to follow along with the crowd because it makes us feel more secure, like somehow more cats means more logical thinking and correct choices. And we cling to any line of security we can get. If you were told a horrible truth, and someone in your group said ‘that’s nonsense!’, you’d be inclined to believe them. It’s safer for your sanity.”

“Then how did we all believe it?” Flyfang, despite her words, did not sound argumentative. She looked more puzzled than anything.

Darkpelt shifted to tuck her front paws underneath her chest and she shut her eyes. Her tone became contemplative. “For me, at least, it just makes sense. I’ve always believed that nothing is impossible, given how real StarClan seemed all my life. And the connections between Redheart and Greyleaf, especially the nightmares, made me far too curious to just pass them off as insane and leave it at that.” She opened her eyes and turned her head in Flyfang’s direction. “Like I said the other day, they have a completely bonkers story that no one would expect to be believed, except a nutter. But a nutter wouldn’t also have the story make sense if one stops to think about the logistics of it.”

“And you believed based on that?” Mistface asked, eyes half-closed as he regarded her doubtfully. 

“Better reason than just a blood connection,” Darkpelt said, with a jaunty nod at him. “You’d believe Greyleaf if he told you he was Derecho in physical form.”

Mistface, surprisingly, did not react with his usual flat irritation. Rather, he looked amused. “It’d make more sense for him to be Gelid, with everything about Gelid’s inevitability, relating to what we know now.”

“You’d make a better Gelid than me,” Greyleaf said.

“Or Brume,” Beetlefoot muttered. “Slow and fluffy as you are.”

Mistface gave a breathy laugh, and with that the air of the ring loosened and relaxed. Appetites returned, everyone now eating properly and with a little more enjoyment of their food. It was quiet again for a while, until Beetlefoot spoke up, almost quiet enough that Laurelclaw didn't hear him.

“You know, Brume and Gelid used to be the same aspect,” he murmured.

Littlepaw perked up immediately. “I thought I heard something like that when I was a kit. Who were they?”

Speaking a little louder and, rather nicely, almost friendlier, Beetlefoot looked at Littlepaw. “They were called Rime. He was the aspect of ice and fog, once. He split into two a long time ago. The Brae still pray to him, though, as if he hasn’t been halved.”

“That doesn’t make much sense,” Flyfang said. “How could he still exist and be two different aspects at the same time?”

“Nothing the Brae do makes sense.” Beetlefoot shook his head. “They’re reclusive idiots.”

“Sounds like the Marish,” Flyfang said, almost nostalgically. “I had to peal out of there when they had their backs turned. They don’t want anyone leaving or coming in.”

Mistface swallowed a mouse tail. “Y’all got more problems in your families than they’re worth, if you ask me.”

“Your brother is on the run because he’s immune to a monster's visions,” Flyfang said, giving him a sarcastic head tilt. “Don’t you talk on family.”

“He’s kind of right, though,” Laurelclaw offered. “I love the Plage, but they can be a lot to handle. They all keep pushing me to be a patroller in the Fleet.”

Littlepaw lifted a paw to hide a smile. “They’ve met you, right?”

“I say the same thing.” Laurelclaw sighed a bit dramatically, for humor’s sake. “I’m just good at taking hits, that’s all.”

“You would not be a good patroller,” said Beetlefoot. “They’re all eager for a fight.” He paused, considering. “Though you cut an intimidating enough figure. You do have a chip in your ear.”

Laurelclaw lowered his head, a little embarrassed. “That was just an accident in my assessment.”

Littlepaw could not hide her smile now. “Have you been in a single real fight at all?”

“…No.” Laurelclaw’s ears (including the chipped one) started to burn, but Littlepaw’s laugh - quiet and small, but genuine - cooled them down again. Flyfang shook her head in mock disappointment. Even Redheart smiled.

There was a lull in the conversation again, but it was nice now – Laurelclaw could see everyone’s relief at the lightening of the mood as they exchanged friendly glances or started grooming their fur. Mistface and Greyleaf were talking in low voices to each other, and Greyleaf seemed calm for once.

“AH!”

A collective jump and the crew all looked at Darkpelt. She had shot up into a sitting position, her eyes huge even compared to her normal wide-eyed blind stare. Her tail stood straight up, fur sticking out like a fox’s.

“Something wrong?” Flyfang ventured when nothing was said.

“StarClan’s visions.” Darkpelt’s head twisted this way and that, like she was seeing something they couldn’t. “Greyleaf has been immune to them his whole life, and Littlepaw can see through the veil. ‘Through the veil’.” Her head turned in Redheart’s direction. “That’s what the Runagate told you. That was the specific wording.”

Redheart haltingly answered, confused. “It was, yes.”

“Littlepaw, Greyleaf, neither of you believe anymore, if you ever did.” Darkpelt looked between them. “As soon as you knew the truth, StarClan couldn’t work its magic on you.”

Littlepaw’s face fell. She seemed to be recalling the memory of her nightmare. “Yes. The field I always see was dead, and then it fell apart.”

“Is there a point to this?” Beetlefoot's head was craned a bit forward and his eyes were narrowed like Darkpelt’s were whenever she was concentrating.

“I don’t know yet.” Darkpelt lowered herself down again. “But it’s important. I can feel that. We have the veil and the knowledge of immunity. That’s all based on belief.” She squinted hard. “Belief. That’s going to be a factor. Keep that in your heads, everyone. We’re going to need to think.”

Laurelclaw didn’t know what to say. Thinking was not his strong suite to begin with, but this incredibly vague command to 'keep belief in his head' was already beyond him.

“Um…” He tilted his head, forgetting for a moment that Darkpelt couldn’t see him. “What does that factor into?”

“Haven’t the faintest,” Darkpelt said. “We’ll just have to wrack our noggins and see. Think hard, everyone. Think harder than you’ve ever thought in your lives. Our home and Clan depend on it.”

Redheart regarded Darkpelt with some puzzlement, but eventually she gave a small sigh. “We can do that. I hope this is going somewhere.”

“It is.” For the first time since they’d left the Clast, Darkpelt smiled broadly. “I promise.”

[pfreadsandwrites]

hi! i absolutely adore your writing it’s genuinely the most in character stuff i’ve ever read!! i’ve been thinking about this for a bit and i was wondering what you think kakashi’s response would be to being home alone when his kid gets sick (s/o is like at work or a mission or something) and this is like not a request or anything i’m just curious what you think!

 Ahhh thank you so much that’s so kind!!! Made my day haha. And thanks for asking about this, thinking about this really got me into a writing kind of mood so I hope this day will be productive in that sense lmao. 

Hmmm let’s see.

Well first off Kakashi’s going to be out of his comfort zone a little bit. Things like this are usually his s/o’s arena. He’s a lil more typical dad in that he’s not so confident in his own ability to like, do the hands-on parenting? Don’t get me wrong, he’s not gonna leave it all to his s/o where possible, but the caretaker/nurturer stuff doesn’t come naturally to him at all. He’s like a ‘fun dad’ in that his kids love hanging out with him, he’s just chill and funny and everyone has a great time, but he might be the more serious/levelheaded parent when they need disciplining or when he has to be, and he’s good at teaching them lessons and making sure they’re safe and he’s a great provider and protector and all that but when it comes to more day to day caring for their children he’s just a little out of his element. He slowly learns more, and he absolutely does it when it’s needed from him and does not want to leave it all to his s/o, but this is really going to be strongly their arena. Also, during most of the series he’s a super heavy active-duty jounin and pretty much Konoha’s most in-demand one, and after that, he’s Hokage. So it comes down to time and the fact that everybody requires so much of him. Like, he doesn’t neglect his kids, and is pretty good at working his life around them, but he would straight up not be able to do most of the hands-on day to day care just logistically, whether it came super naturally to him or not. 

  Plus, the contrast is a little crazy for him. Like, assassination? Can do it in his sleep. Wars? He’s more familiar than he should be. S-rank missions? Pfft, whatever. Running the village? It’s going well. Taking care of tiny humans that he helped create? Wtf this is so difficult omg where his s/o how could they leave him in the dark like this it is one of the scariest things he’s ever had to do, what the hell is he doing he doesn’t know. Which is why having a s/o that will be try to hand-hold him through it is so important.

So when the s/o is away for some reason, and Kakashi has to take care of his sick child, it’s just a little nerve-wracking. I mean, assuming the kid is a few years old by this point, he’s definitely familiar with caretaking basics, but he probably does rely on his s/o, and maybe he hasn’t realised how much until they’re gone lmao. But still, I think he’d be alright. Won’t be like ‘oh my baby i’ll do this and this and this for you I’m sorry you’re sick 😢’ and keep fussing over the kid but he’ll definitely keep a watch over them. He’s not necessarily overly sympathetic with his kid, just very matter-of-fact, like oh dear, you’re sick, guess you have to stay in bed. Like he’s not too worried about them being sick unless they get really bad. Will be strict when he has to, like if the kid decides they want to do something they’re not supposed to, like Idk, start trying to practice ninjutsu or something or wanna eat candy or whatever that’s not going to happen. And he’ll show up with chicken soup or something and medicine etc. . Can imagine if it’s like something pill like, like paracetamol (half-dose, he has some common sense) and him just handing it over to his kid and his kid being like ‘Dad Idk how to swallow a pill’ and Kakashi just has a wow moment cuz he didn’t even clock that that’s a thing kids struggle with cuz he was doing all that by himself by that age, it’s like little things like that that kinda make him think wow how can someone like me be doing this. But you know, he’s chill, he gets over it pretty fast.  

But I think it’s funny to imagine the kid being like ‘Mom does it like this...’ when Kakashi is tucking them in or giving them food or something, or “when’s Mom coming back?” or “I miss Mommy” and Kakashi’s all yeah you and me both kid ack. Generally, he doesn’t doesn’t do anything stupid and ticks all the boxes though he’s reluctant to get a little too close because he can’t afford to get sick as well? So RIP if contagious kiddy Hatake want some comfort cuddles, might trick them into cuddling a clone or a pillow that smells like him or he might just give in, at which point the kid decides that their mom’s hugs are better in these kinds of situations anyway. But I can imagine Kakashi would enjoy the time with the kid, like just lazily watching some of their favourite movies with them while the kid is all wrapped up in blankets etc and he can use the time to not work and have a good excuse, and also he just likes hanging out with the kid even if being sick makes them quieter than usual (that might be good tbh), it’s pretty nice. 

Still though, taking care of his kid takes a lot out of him even if it doesn’t seem like he’s doing much. Like it’s just not natural to him and he’s kinda mentally exhausted wondering if he’s doing everything right and thinking he’s kind of a fuck-up. He’s not as bad as he thinks, and he knows that to some degree, but it’s all just so tiring. When the s/o finally comes back he’s all like oh thank God. And they’re like everything seems fine??? And yes but that’s not the point lmao. And he’s not one to forget or take his s/o for granted, but it definitely reaffirms in his mind how important they are and how lucky he is to have them. 

Though it’s way more funny to imagine Kakashi getting sick from the kid too despite his best efforts and his s/o coming home to not one, but two sick babies to look after lmao. Kakashi being sick is funny cuz though at first he wouldn’t be super happy to being taken care of i can just imagine him being like, such a typical man-flu sufferer and turning into a such a baby lmao.

Like specifically what I thought about was the kid having chickenpox, and Kakashi somehow never having that as a kid, and getting it from them and yeah the s/o just comes home to just a nightmare lmao or maybe Kakashi wearing mittens holding his mitten wearing daughter or something while he’s trying to read her a book to distract them both

I hope I answered your question lol! This was fun to think about and thanks again for the kind words :)

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

10. Bathroom wall (Part Three) a.k.a. a queen bee, Prince in the shower and a backup Casanova

In the previous parts: The bunch spends a free evening in a bar, where local girls are trying to get closer to the band members. Dave suggests Jeff that he should make Judy jealous but she’s too busy with being outraged about a girl named Claudia dancing with Stone. Finally, Claudia backs down; after a fight with Stone, Judy reveals to Karrie, that her made-up stories about Stone had to do something with her reaction. In the meantime, Mike is feeling sick and refuses Karrie’s advice to take his health issues more seriously. She also shows him pictures of Effie but Mike’s evening ends with a surprising twist. Judy tries to calm down with the help a relaxing shower but she gets unexpected company in the common bathroom… 

@shadowsonoureyes I think I almost completed your drabble challenge 😉

“I got a lion in my pocket and baby he's ready to roar…”

God, I wish this was only a nightmare and I woke up suddenly realizing nothing of this madness has happened actually, maybe I could even laugh at the whole setting. But now, laughing is the last thing I feel like doing, I’ve been standing here since who knows when, I’m freezing, I wanna finish my shower, I wanna dry myself, I wanna get out of here… this with the lots of “wannas” sounds like some random lyrics of The Ramones… But as things stand at the moment, I’ll grow old and die here because this skinny hippo has been splashing beyond the wall for at least fifteen minutes, performing the longest and most inconsistent mix of Prince songs ever, deliberately altering the lyrics, changing the range of lines or even skipping some of them whereas repeating other ones infinitely like a broken record player.

“You got the horn so why don't you blow it…”

Actually, I’ve even started playing with the idea of turning the water on again, maybe this capybara enjoys listening to his own voice enough not even to hear it. But no, that’d be too risky. But I could definitely get rid of the shower gel bottle to be able to rub along my body against cold, I’ve been squeezing that little plastic flask at full strength since he entered here, as if it could help me become invisible. I slowly stoop to place it on the ground in the corner feeling like a compromised spy who’s ordered to put her weapon down without making any suspicious or ambiguous move; but due to the slippery surface under my soles I lose my balance and as I catch towards the wall to prevent myself from falling I drop it… and it lands with a loud crash in the metal shower tray. Fuuuuck… I freeze immediately and perk up my ears holding my breath trying to figure out if he heard it too… of course he heard it, it was as ear-splitting as a rocket launch but maybe he was too distracted and…

“Is somewhere there? Who’s that?”

He heard it…

“Who’s that? Scully? Is that you? Don’t be so shy, we’ve known each other for ages, I’ll even wash your back if you need help…”

Okay, Judy, you can’t hide any longer, you have to find out something, anything… what if I just ran out with a battle cry and grabbed my towel and… okay, maybe something more discreet would be more adequate.

“Scully? I’m coming over…”

“NO!!!” I scream.” It’s not Scully… it’s me… Judy…” I manage to reveal my identity only for the third attempt since my voice won’t obey and insists on sounding comically high-pitched. “And thanks but I’d skip the offer, I can reach my back.” Jesus, I don’t know why I’m babbling this, it’s like…

“Oh… I didn’t know it was you. Actually, I thought I was alone, you were so silent… I couldn’t even hear the water running at you…”

“Because… because… it wasn’t running since… it’s a part of my shower routine, I begin it with hot water then I turn it off and stand a few minutes until I start feeling I’m freezing, this method works wonders on the blood circulation…” I basically yell the end of my bullshit excuse since I turned the water on in the meantime to finally put an end to this awkward situation. Unfortunately, when I turn it off, I can hear he’s still humming, seriously, how much time does he need to dry his balls?

“Anyway… you were right.” he speaks up out of the blue.

I was right? Meaning what? You’re a pervert? You’re a bitch who would bang everything that moves?

“The acoustics in this room are truly excellent.”

You don’t say…

‘I’m flattered by the fact that once in a blue moon you are willing to agree with me. And, uhm, I’m ready with my shower and as you’ve probably already noticed, my towel is hanging on the wall on the other side so… so I’d feel honored if you left…”

“If I left?”

Yes, I mean get the fuck out you pig, you heard it well.

“Why would I leave? I want to enjoy these fascinating circumstances a little bit longer…“

I should have known this wouldn’t be easy, this must be like a dream come true for him: holding me hostage, taking advantage of my miserable situation…

“But seriously, just listen: I really get a dirty mind whenever you're around… Awesome!”

I roll my eyes so hard that I can see my own frontal lobe… Being forced to listen to Stone’s falsetto serenade while being butt naked, fuck, I didn't know what I was missing in my life until now.

“What do you want? Should I sing a fuckin’ duet with you for my freedom?”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually… what about Together Forever by Rick Astley?” I hear him snapping with his fingers and giggling at his brilliant idea.

“Well, the performance of Under Pressure would sound more honest from my mouth right now…”

“You’re just so negative, nothing can please you today seemingly. But as a sign of my generosity, I’m ready to give you that towel.”

How can a voice be so irritating? This nasal tone with the mannered Northwestern accent makes sound everything what he says extremely annoying, I could punch him even for citing the headlines of a newspaper.

“Ha-ha, very funny, Gossard. But let’s skip your cheap tricks and move your aaa…self out of here.”

“Cheap tricks? I don’t think there’d be anything interesting to see here, plus, you’re forgetting about a very important factor: I’m out here wearing a towel whereas you are in there wearing nothing so it is me who makes the rules. But, again, I’m a genuine guy so I give your towel to you, all you have to do is to ask me.” the pain in the ass goes on with his rant.

“Okay. GIVE ME THAT FUCKIN’ TOWEL!” I scream angrily stomping of helplessness.

“Why do you have to be so rude? You’re hurting my sensitive soul all the time; if you want me to cooperate, you have to be kind and ask me nicely.”

Once I get out of here, I’m going to fuckin’ kill you, I swear, I’m going to kill you ten times, I’m going to kill your reincarnated bodies too even if you will be reborn as a cute kitten or a baby giraffe…

“GIVE ME THAT FUCKIN’ TOWEL! Please?” I yell again and append a fake, cheesy appeal to my words.

“You see? It sounds immediately completely different.” he snickers satisfied.

“Okay, but we have to clear the logistics first. I think the least awkward way would be you standing facing the door, handing the towel backwards to me and I would reach out for it and…”

“Do you really think I wanna peep?” he asks with amused smugness in his voice.

I do? I don’t? Shit, there’s no right answer to this question, I mean, I’m not interested in him at all, I don’t care what he might think about my look, my body, I don’t even know whether he would think anything at all or he’d just act neutrally like I wasn’t a woman or human at all but fuck, I’m a human, I’m a woman, I could be the possible subject of a guy’s interest too and when I mean “a guy” I don’t think necessarily about him although he’s a guy too…

“I don’t give shit about what you want, what I want is to minimize the level of my retinal damage by not seeing your face, so please do me a favor, turn away from me and give me that goddamn towel.”

By the time I’ve finished the sentence, a pale body with something bright blue at waist-level appears on my horizon with funny side-sliding steps. He’s standing with his back to me, as far as I can judge it even without my glasses, my assumption is only based on the dark trail of his hair on his back. Or he’s an aberrant psychopath who covered his face with his hair to deceive me. He pulls my towel off the wall… okay, that means he’s truly facing the opposite wall unless his shoulders are especially flexible… damn, he reaches it backwards to me lifting his arm to the same height… I’m still not sure about his exact posture…

I slowly walk to the edge of the shower tray, hesitating for a few seconds which one of my body parts I should keep covered before reaching out for it. With a deep sigh, I opt for my breasts and try to grab my towel but there’s still almost a one-yard distance between our hands.

“Stone… you’re too far… could you come closer?” I moan in agony.

“Interesting… until now, you wanted me to go away and now you’re asking me the opposite. Or you’re just trying to trick me into touching you and then get me arrested for sexual assault… no, Camden, I don’t buy it. Anyway, walking backwards is dangerous, what if stumble and fall and break my neck? It’d be safer if you came out of your hiding place, you can’t spend the rest of your life there when I’m gone, I don’t care…”

I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this but I obviously have no choice… I approach him with sneaking steps while terrible thoughts are chasing each other in my mind… What if he can rotate his head 180 degrees like owls? What if he’s got extraordinary eyes like chameleons and due to his particularly developed peripheral vision he can see basically everything around him?

As I finally touch the terry cloth fabric, I immediately tear the towel out of his hand and wrap it around myself. His arm swings automatically back to his body as if it was pulled by a spring and while I pull back into my shelter to dry all my body parts, he keeps standing at attention on the same spot.

“Ahem… I’m ready so… you can go…” I make an attempt to get rid of him.

“You’re not a quick learner… and you’re pretty ungrateful… I haven’t heard the magic word yet.”

I can’t believe this. And I can be grateful to him for not humiliating me even more…

“Thanks…” I mumble.

“I didn’t understand it… it’s strange, the acoustics in that corner must be different, it absorbs sound waves…”

“Thank you, Stone Almighty Gossard, nothing could express my eternal gratitude, you’re my savior, I’d be nothing without you, from now on, I’m your slave!!!” I shout paying special attention to my articulation.

“Could you hear the echoes too? Much better.” he clicks with his tongue satisfied and disappears from my sight with the same hilarious moves he made earlier. “Good night, Judith, and if you happen to have erotic dreams this night, please keep them for yourself, I’d feel embarrassed if you told me about it…” he adds and as I open my mouth for some snarky retort, I hear the door slamming.

Finally. This… prick is just unbelievable, after his performance at the bar he thinks he did me a favor by not behaving a like a perv? And erotic dreams? Come on, I’d rather puked myself to death of his sight.

I have to use the awkward choreography I invented earlier to get back to my stuff I left on the chair, although I myself don’t really understand either, why, I’m alone after all... As I lean down for my glasses, my fingers reach out for… nothing. They’re gone! I grope the whole chair along… still nothing! I put down the shower gel bottle and try to crouch down to check the floor under the chair, which is not easy to do at all without exposing my intimate body parts. I keep adjusting the towel with my left hand while I try to scan trough every inch of this goddamn place with the other one and I’m about to drop the freakin’ towel when I hear a weird noise from behind my back. Snorts… silent snorts… like someone was suppressing laughter… oh shit. That moron, that son of a bitch… he’s Satan, I told it.

I straighten up as fast as I can, I can only hope he didn’t see my backside or my nipples or… why can’t I die here and now without more suffering?

As far as I can see him without my spectacles, he’s leaning against the sink and checking me out with folded arms.

“Taking away my glasses? That’s the most creative idea you could find out? Seriously, where are we, in third grade maybe?” I attack him but in the meantime I realize I should calm down, seeing me being upset is probably his favorite entertainment. “Okay, Gossard, go ahead. I don’t know why you crafted this vicious plan with trapping me here, taking away my glasses, stalking me… let’s get over with it, whatever you want…” I shrug resigned.

“Firstly, I didn’t know you were here, I just came in since I have the right to have a shower too. Secondly, I have nothing to say to you, it is you who should talk.”

“Me? Do you think I want to have a chit-chat with you here and now? Are you completely nuts? Just give back my glasses and get out of here!”

“Well, that has a price.” he answers irritatingly slowly, I can hear clearly he’s grinning.

“Is this a blackmail?” I scream outraged.

“Why do you have to use always such tough words? It’s a… mutually beneficial offer. You want your glasses whereas you also owe me an apology and I’m ready to accept it.” he explains with fake generosity.

“I’m not gonna beg you, you idiot.” I hiss between my teeth and grab towards his hands but I’m not fast enough to catch him off guard. He raises his arm high before I could get my property back and smiles down at me with a smug expression.

Does he want me to bounce like a puppy? Well, I won’t. Actually, the only possible weapon that comes to mind is as childish as his stupid little trick but the end justifies the means… But I have to be quick since my one hand is busy with keeping the towel around my body and I don’t want to grope him for too long time either. But he didn’t leave me any other choice, unfortunately.

“Fine, Stoney…” I pretend giving in. “You’re right. So listen to me carefully because you’re not going to hear this from me too often…”

“I’m all ears.” he spreads out his free arm.

Piece of cake.

“Sooo…” I approach him cautiously “Stoney, I just want to say… TICKLE ATTACK!!!” I yell and poke my fingers between his ribs.

The effect is beyond expression. He immediately doubles over letting out a wide range of animal sounds and it only takes a few seconds to tear out my spectacles of his hand maintaining the offensive with my other hand.

“Ha, victory!”I yell chuckling at his convulsion but as I hear a weird noise over his whining, I immediately stiffen. “What was that?”

“What’s… what?” he asks still groaning.

“Didn’t you hear that? I think someone slammed the door…” I stutter as I place my glasses on my nose. “And that means someone had opened it before… and maybe saw us…”

“Bullshit. And even if it happened as you think, all that could be seen was you committing sexual harassment on me so…” he smirks sassily leaning back against the sink.

What an obnoxious asshole. And he’s also wearing flip-flops, which I’ve always hated on men, seriously, I could slap him with them…

“Sexual harassment? I would rather jump on a male tapir than engaging into an erotic intermezzo with you!” I tuck my hair nervously behind my ear.

“You and a tapir? I wish I could see the offsprings…” he keeps grinning and flips his wet hair back… actually, it’s surprising, usually, he’s not a big hair washer. A tiny waterdrop is swinging on the end of one of the dark strands that are wavier than usual, this must be their natural state… then the drop slowly falls on his shoulder and follows the line of his collarbone, changing direction at his neck only to gain momentum and now it’s pulling a trail along his flat stomach and…

“Ahem…” he clears his throat “shall we go? Or do you want to examine my naked body for a while?”

“Let’s go” I start like I was waking up from a dream and I can feel my cheeks are burning for some mysterious reasons. “But you go first, I don’t want to make myself ridiculous in front of more people tonight.”

“Okay, okay…” he walks out with lazy reluctance. “All clear!” he shouts and I put my head out of the door to check he’s not trying to trick me again. How can he walk so leisurely, isn’t he bothered by the fact he’s almost naked? And why did he wrap that towel so tightly around his waist that it shows every curve of his…body parts…?

“Do you want to spend the night in there?” he suddenly turns back and I can only hope I managed to look away fast enough.

“No… no…I’m coming…” I mutter and follow him in duck walk, squeezing my toiletry bag.

He stops at his door and leans with one shoulder against the door jamb, of course he wouldn’t miss out my clumsy performance.

“Wow, gracious. You were born to the catwalk.” he giggles.

“Shut up or I scratch your eyes out!”

“Okay-okay but I hope we can agree that we’re even.” he waves an imaginary white flag.

“We are. And I say now good night before you happened to die under unclear circumstances.”

“Good night, Miss Hundred Pounds of Concentrated aggression.”

His audacious grin mellows into a boyish smile and I don’t know if I am only hallucinating or for a fragment of a second, he scans me from head to toe…

He pushes himself away from the wall and disappears in the dark room, leaving me frozen in the hallway. I stumble back to my room and I plop down on my bed. But what was that stare? He was probably just mocking me as usual, he’s surrounded by beautiful girls and he must find my dwarf body structure ridiculous. But he said we’re even… I stare at the toiletry bag on my lap, although I didn’t turn on the light, its pattern is clearly visible in the street lights filtering through the torn curtain. Musical notes, treble keys… wait. He claimed he didn’t know it was me in the shower. But who else in the bunch would have a bag with these motifs? He knew it was me. He knew it and he still came in. He wanted to humiliate me, it wasn’t just an embarrassing coincidence. Stone Gossard, we’re everything but even.

***

„These piggies are so cute.”

“Yes, they are totally adorable.” Layne agrees observing them with a tender smile. “Look at their mom, how patiently she’s bearing as they’re pestering her… geez, some of these little fuckers are pretty aggressive… look at that one!”

He points at a spotted piglet which is the greediest in the bunch; I don’t know much about domestic animals, I can only guess he’s a tiny boar. He’s tossing away all his siblings to get free access to his mther’s teats and even after he gets one of them, he keeps her poking with his power outlet-shaped nose. Well, moms are the most patient creatures on earth, I’m sure I’ve caused a lot of trouble to mine too…

“I wonder if we can stroke them, their hair seems to be so fluffy…”

“A bit later, now it’s mealtime. Their mother is very protective of them, she would bite your fingers off… I think she’s going to pass out in a few minutes, you can try to grab one of them while they’ll be playing around her.” the farmer-looking guy answers. He can’t be much older than us but he speaks in a slow, prudent manner, which makes him sound like a grandfather. He must be an employee of this place… whatever this place is…

“Effie would love them.” Layne remarks, still fascinated by the nursing process.

Effie? Layne knows Effie? Interesting.

“Is she here too?” I stutter confused.

“Of course, dude, you bought her here, remember?” Layne glances at me and raises one eyebrow.

“Really? And where is she know?” I scratch my chin still not understanding how she got in the picture.

“She stayed in the house. She was interested in the greenhouse and the gardener happened to be there, you couldn’t drag her away from the orchids. Seriously, Mike, are you stoned our what? You should take more care of your girlfriend if you want to take this thing between you seriously.”

Girlfriend? Effie is my girlfriend? Okay, that sounds strange too not that I want to complain…

“And… what’s that house you mentioned?”

“Shit… I’m not gonna help you out with weed ever again, this stuff has obviously terrible side effects on you, you’re like a drunk goldfish. Hey, Jer, tell to this asshole where we are!” he shouts at his approaching bandmate.

“Estamos a la hacienda Cantrell, hombre! This my ranch! And in a few hours, we’ll be eating the best food you’ve ever tried, Consuela is the most badass cook in the entire world! But we have the whole afternoon, I want to show you my new golf course, we could even play, I have tons of golf clubs, I can lend you one of them…”

Wait, something’s wrong here. I know they have their share of success because of this Seattle madness too, not that they don’t deserve it, they are a fuckin’ amazing band but I never knew Jerry had a ranch, I mean, it must have cost a buttload of money and however much I like him, I must admit he’s not that type who prefers savings to poker, dope and strippers.

“How… how long have you owned this… this huge farm?” I wave around clumsily trying not to sound too stupid.

“For like… ages…? Hahaha, man, I know my beautiful maids drive every man crazy, that was my point when casting them and choosing their uniform. But you can’t complain either, I checked the little blondie out, nice catch! That cola bottle-shaped body, damn…” the skirt-chaser underlines his words by drawing the mentioned contour in the air flashing a filthy grin. I don’t like this tone, I don’t like the idea of Jerry talking about Effie or looking at her, fuck, I don’t even like the idea of any member of Alice In Chains staying in the same state as her for more than three seconds.

“But first, we have to choose the dinner. Which one do you want?” the guitarist nods towards the pigpen and knowing his dirty humor, I’m not sure whether he refers to any food-related or he’s called hookers or what?

“How… how do you mean?”

“Mike, this is definitely not your day, just pick one!” Layne giggles glancing amused at his bandmate.

“But… what?” I still don’t get where this whole thing is going.

“Geez man, okay, I”ll do it for you. Come on, little dudes, it won’t hurt, I promise you!” Jerry leans over the fence and grabs two piglets by the skin around their neck.

“No, no, are you trying to say we’re gonna eat them? No, never, this is the cruelest thing I’ve ever heard, you can’t…” I protest shocked but the asshole doesn’t give a shit about me and carries the two victims under his arms to the pickup standing close to us. He ignores the desperate squeals of the poor little things: he throws them in the truck bed and climbs after them.

“Jerry, where are you going? You can’t… stop, don’t do that, man!” I yell almost crying but he just keeps laughing with that typical, pedophile Santa Claus laughter of him.

“What do you think, for what purpose do I breed them? They are cute and all but just think about a crispy, red, roasted pig spinning on a skewer over the fire… yummy… Consuela has a secret recipe, it’s delicious. I takes hours to prepare it, though, but I think I can keep myself busy until then, you know, that blondie is waiting only for me…” he winks and I catch to my stomach. Effie… Jerry… no, that can’t happen, I think I’m going to vomit, Jesus, this is terrible…

He pats the side of the truck bed twice, signaling to the driver that he can start the engine.

“Yes dude, until the pork gets ready, I’m gonna bang Effie… bang Effie… bang Effie… bang Effie…”

His words get mixed with the squealing of the piglets and the roar of the engine and the terrible sounds keep echoing in my head distorted by the Doppler-effect until the car disappears on the horizon.

“Bang Effie… bang Effie… bang Effie…”

…

I wake up with a start. My heart is beating so fast that it almost rips my chest, the blanket is soaking wet of my sweat, even my hair is stuck to my head and neck. This was the worst nightmare I’ve had in the past years… wait… if it was a dream, why can I still hear the snorts?

I slowly turn my head in the direction of the sound and suddenly, everything falls into place. The girl with whom I spent last night is snoring next to me… Her red lipstick and black eyeshadow is smeared all over her face making her look like a slutty panda bear and the little stream of drool in the corner of her mouth makes it even worse. Thus passes worldly glory… not that I have any right to criticize her look, I must look like crap too and honestly, I also feel like that. My head is about to explode, my intestines are burning… but I can only blame myself and that bottle of pure vodka we consumed last night together. At least the sex was satisfactory... yes, satisfactory is the best term, not more, not less. The beginning was creepy, though, with those weird outbursts of her about her nonsense prohibitions… I mean, who the hell wants to do stuff like that? Poor girl, she must have had hard sexual experiences. But that cowboy roleplay could have been even good with the hat and slight bondage elements and all… but her exaggerated behavior kept it in conditional. After all, we both got what we wanted and I don’t have to feel guilty. I didn’t force her, she offered, I just played along… it was basically her who fucked me. I don’t know if it had anything to do with me being the guitarist of Pearl Jam but even if it has, come on, is that really such a terrible crime if the “also ran” member of the band takes advantage of his situation once in a blue moon? The girls are never cueing in front of my hotel door, I deserve to have blast when a rare occasion occurs for some mysterious reason. And I don’t owe anyone any explanation, the guys and Eric are not my chaperones, I’m a single guy with needs and I can’t live in a fantasy world for good, pathetically sobbing after someone I haven’t even met yet, right?

Hydration. That’s the first thing I need right now. The only problem is that she’s sleeping with her limbs spread in four different direction and her left arm happens to rest on my chest. Shit, I wish I had left after we finished it as I always do after one-night stands, it spares both the girl and me awkward morning scenes, these things are not about romance, anyway. But this time the sex was intense and the booze was kick-ass so we both must have passed out after getting on top.

I try to slide out of the bed basically in horizontal position placing the pillow on the same spot where my upper body used to be hoping she’s sleeping deeply enough not to notice the change. I freeze when she lets out a few louder snorts after my maneuver but after a few satisfied smacks, she calms down and keeps snoring. I tiptoe around the bed to collect my clothes and I found all of them except my boxers… fuck, she must be lying on them. After a few seconds of hesitation I get dressed without them, they’re clean since I didn’t have any “accident” yesterday so trying to get them back is not worth risking.

I silently walk out in the kitchen and immediately spot a few bottles of mineral water on the counter… but taking one of them would be stealing, right? But if I turned the water on, she might wake up… I open all of the cupboards until I find a larger glass and turn the water tap cautiously until a thin spout starts running from the pipe. It takes a while until I fill the glass with this method but I gulp the content of it with one breathe in a blink of an eye.

My rumbling stomach directs me to the fridge, even if I don’t want to take anything, I can check its content, right? The cool breeze feels unbelievably good as I lean into it… let me see… further bottles of water, some milk, a piece of moldy cheese which probably isn’t supposed to be moldy, expired yogurt and a bunch of bananas. Shit, banana is my favorite fruit, the best resource of potassium and I’m dying to eat one. But I decided not to steal anything… but come on, it’s only a banana.

As I’m about to leave the crime scene, I notice a notepad and a pencil on the table. Maybe… maybe leaving a note would be a polite way of giving an explanation for what I did, right? Yeah, that’s it! Okay… “Dear…” Fuck, what was her name? Clarissa… Claudette… CLAUDIA! “Dear Claudia,” Shit, this is going to be harder than I thought… should I thank her for the sex? “thanks for the evening. I didn’t want to wake you up so…” so I ran away like a coward “I decided to say bye in this note. I was really hungry so I served myself with a banana.” and last night I served you my banana, Jesus, I’m a gross pig. “Sorry for doing it without asking, as an apology, I drew you another one.” I try to sketch the schematic picture of a banana but it looks like a nonfigurative or even phallic symbol from any possible angle. Shit, I can’t leave it like this. Luckily, the pencil has a quality eraser on the top so I can make the terrible scribble disappear and correct the message. “I drew you the only thing I can draw:” I close my eyes to recall the logo I’ve copied everywhere more times than anything else… “KISS” at least I can still do it… I go over the message again, I think it’ll do the trick. “I wish you the best, Mike”. I stop in the kitchen door on my way out. Even a KISS logo can’t undo a theft. I should offer her some compensation… I walk back and grab the pencil again. “Ps. Next time we come to Charlotte, I’ll invite you for a coffee.” But what if we bump into each other anywhere else? “Of course I also invite you in case we encounter anywhere else.” Okay, ‘Cready, you don’t have to write an epistle, you don’t have to surpass Tatiana, just leave finally before she wakes up. But what if… what if she doesn’t like coffee? Now that I glance around, I can see no coffee machine here… “Ps2. In case you don’t like coffee, my offer applies to tea or soda too, of course.”

Okay, enough, she won’t even notice, who the hell takes inventory about bananas? I shake my head, take a deep breath and sneak out of the apartment.

***

Coffee. The first thing that comes to mind in the morning. I know I drink way too much coffee but caffeine addiction is sort of an inevitable outcome if you’re a rock musician at nights and an espresso guy at daytime. Of course the receptionist or janitor or whoever confirmed my initial aiming: this shitty motel doesn’t sell any food or drinks apart from the broken vending machine in the corner of the lobby. He also said I can take all of its content if I manage to fix it. No, thanks, the late seventies-looking chips bags with their probably fossilized content aren’t particularly tempting.

I’m heading to the bistro on the other side of the street, it’s probably not much better than that place but a coffee without hair in it and a decent breakfast would already satisfy my needs. On entering I must admit, the smells are better than expected and as soon as I take place in a booth, a polite waitress appears at the table handing me a menu and producing a cup out of the blue. She immediately fills it with the hot beverage I was longing for. A cigarette would feel good with it too but there’s no one around I could grub from…

I’ve taken only a few sips of my precious drink when I see a familiar hat appearing at the entrance and in a few seconds, its owner plops down opposite me, munching a banana.

“The prodigal son has returned, huh?” I remark with a wide grin.

“I know you missed me, just admit it.” he answers with a deadpan. “God, I’m starving…” he grabs the menu and begins to study it.

“A coffee, sir?” the waitress emerges again and spills coffee in his cup too without waiting for the answer. “What can I get for you?” she inquires helpfully as she pulls a small notebook with a pen out of the pocket of her apron.

“One Aspirin and a bullet in my head, please.” Mike groans with a dark face.

“Excuse me sir?”

“Give us a few more minutes, please.” I try to send a “don’t ask” signal with my eyes and it seems to work because she leaves with a confused nod.

“The last time I saw you, you felt sick. But somehow you must have resurrected like a phoenix from its ashes since you were out all night… so… go ahead.” I lean back but my bandmate is avoiding my gaze, turning his head around like he was distracted by the interesting furniture of the diner.

“Look, it’s Judy over there!” he shouts pointing at the counter.

“Mike… no… please…” I groan in pain but it’s too late.

“Hey Jude!” he shouts and waves frantically.

Great… I bury my face into my palms.

Unfortunately, Mike comes to the brilliant idea of stretching his leg along the seat he’s sitting on while she’s approaching us; so by the time she gets to our booth, her only option is sitting down next to me. Which she isn’t willing to do, she’s just sending reproving looks at me until I realize the reason of her reluctance is my right arm on the backrest. When I remove it, she slides in the booth as far from me as possible, she’s probably sitting with half butt on the air.

“Hi Judy.” Mike greets her pulling his small metal flask out of the inner pocket of his jacket.

“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.” she tries to tear it out of his hand without even greeting us.

“Easy Jude, it’s empty, okay? It’s just a bad habit that I keep checking it.”

“Anyway, I doubt he would begin the day with spirits, seeing he was drinking the whole night…”

“What?” she screams outraged.

“Jesus, are you blind? He’s, like, the quintessence of hangover, circles under the eyes, grey face, he looks like a dirty dish cloth…”

“Jesus, guys, do you really have to talk so loud??? Anyway, thanks Stone, you know how to compliment…” Mike moans rubbing his forehead with his hand.

“I’m just telling the truth. Come on, tell us how did you get so fucked up… or… no… I don’t want to know the details.”

“You probably think I got wasted with a few local dudes I don’t even know and I fell asleep in the corner and when I woke up, I realized someone had drawn a dick on my cheek.”

“You left out the pissing-and-puking part but yeah, sort of. Ouch!” I whine when she tosses me with a strict face at full strength in the shoulder. “What’s wrong with you, do you think he’s a saint or what?” I complain.

“Don’t even listen to him, unlike him, I’m interested in the details. So tell me… were there pubic hair on the dick too?” she leans closer confidentially, flashing a cheeky smile and however much annoying I find her, I can’t help snorting.

“Jesus, six of one, half a dozen of the other.” Mike rolls his eyes. “Anywayyy… I wasn’t with some unknown dudes… but I wasn’t alone either…” he shrugs with a mysterious smile.

“Okay, you’re getting a vasectomy. That’s final. I don’t want you to get sued by teen moms from every single town we stop in.” I shake my head.

“Not that I’m the Casanova of the band, are we going to talk about the favors you’ve done to Seattle’s female population too? Do you begrudge me it or what?”

“I’ve had a long string of girlfriends, so what?”

“What?” our band parrot squeaks in again.

“A long string? There’s a herd of them!” Mike goes on.

“Just stop!” she screams and we both fall silent, surprised by her sudden outburst. “I’m new here. Explain.” she adds in a mellower voice.

“Judith, maybe you should improve your “reading between the lines” skills. My colleague is trying to say that he spent the night with a female acquaintance, I guess we can call her like that with some euphemism. And I recommended some fertility restrictions regarding Mike’s wasted adventures are like the cliché bad examples in sexual education videos.”

“As if you…” my bandmate is about to reply but he gets interrupted by the returning lovely waitress, and honestly, I don’t mind, somehow I don’t want him to reveal my dating history before the girl who never misses any occasion to point out my flaws.

“Did you manage to choose in the meantime?” she inquires.

“I’d like to have… scrambled eggs with ham and a sesame seed bun, fresh orange juice, pancakes with maple syrup, a peanut butter sandwich and chocolate chips with vanilla ice.” Mike reads enthusiastically.

“A sunny-side up with bacon and a cherry pie á la RR.” my neighbor lists.

“A vegetarian cheese plate and I’d like to try that deliciously sounding pie too.” I smile at the waitress.

“It’s even better than you think, Sir.” she winks back at me and as I watch her collecting the menus, I can see Camden’s disgusted face from the corner of my eye.

“Sooo… a Twin Peaks fan, huh?” I nudge her. “From now on, I’m gonna call you Nadine, it suits you in every sense.”

“Nice try, Bob… Anyway, Mike, if this is your hangover appetite, what is your normal state like? I got nausea even of listening to you…”

“I burned a lot of calories last night so…” he grins proudly, making me cackle up.

“Here we are, I want details!” I imitate a drum snare with my palms on the table.

“Jesus, guys, are you really going to disc…” Miss Prudery clucks in but luckily, my bandmate ignores her whining.

“It was… wild.” he smirks firmly.

“Wilder than that escort girl in L.A.?” I giggle since this is one of my favorite stories with which I tease Mike from time to time and it’s also a great topic to outrage this first communicant next to me.

“What? Mike? You’ve paid for sex???” Bingo.

“How many times I have to tell that…” Mike pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers with a nervous gasp. “Judy, it wasn’t the way you think… when I was living in L.A. with the Friel brothers, I met a nice waitress at a concert venue… we sort of hooked up, she’d visit me at the record store I’d work at… she was busted all the time so I’d lend her my spare money, I mean what I didn’t spend on booking gigs for us… and Chris Friel tried to warn me gently that every time I’d give her money, we’d sex afterwards… and once we ended up in a strip club after a gig and I found out she was a stripper, she worked there, I mean, she was dropping her clothes right in front of me… and she wasn’t only stripping. So I realized that what I thought to be a friends with benefits situation was actually a prostitute-client relationship, she was just too good-hearted to enlighten me. Stone, are you happy now???”

“Awww, Mike, this is so sad… but it’s also somehow so sweet… I hope you got a discount at least. But what’s with that girl from last night? What’s her name?”

“Someone has suddenly become curious, interesting…” I throw in.

“Errrr… her name was…”

“Jesus, Camden, you know nothing about one-night-stands, don’t you?” I ask to buy Mike some time but to be honest, I don’t know what to think seeing the industrial amount of condoms I found in her toiletry bag last night. Either is she a wild cat and a really god actress at the same time or this tour is like a project for her to get rid of her virginity. Ten times at least. And Jeff Ament has the honor to assist. Jesus.

“Why, I only asked…”

“He doesn’t know shit about her, let alone her name.”

“You banged…” she yells but realizing everyone looks at us, she suddenly takes the volume back “You had sex with her and you didn’t even ask her name?” she whispers between her teeth.

“Why? Names are overrated. Anyway, she introduced herself, I just… can’t remember her name anymore. And she didn’t even care about my name either.”

“Judith, I understand this is new to you, you probably insist on swapping business cards before petting and ask the guy even to show his ID before the penetration but in most cases, these things are going in a simpler way…” I use the occasion to torture her a bit and she starts reddening so much that I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

“Hey Stoney, don’t mock her! Jude, there’s nothing wrong with being cautious. I mean, the social security number can even be useful in case your partner suffers a sex injury.” he tries to help her out clumsily and glances at me for reassurance.

“Yeah, let alone the blood type in case he needs a transfusion after the experience.” I scoff.

“Could we go back to Mike’s experience?” she squints towards me with popped eyes making a nervous gesture. “I hope you had protection…”

“Jesus, of course, she was prepared…”

“She??? Mike, how can you be so irresponsible, it’s always the guy’s task, I would never ever… go out with a guy who expects me to provide him with condoms, Jesus…”

Ha. The little liar…

“Are we seriously analyzing these details? I mean, how was the chick?” I exclaim, earning one more toss arriving from my right side.

“She was… nice. I mean, she had that crazy vibe… It was weird, everything was okay until we left to her place, we drank, we played pool, she started flirting, I reciprocated it and so on… At one point, she threw herself on me, by the time I realized what’s happening, she was basically already licking my tonsils… not that I minded. So she dragged me to her place.”

“That doesn’t sound that bad…” I grin.

“Something tells me there was a “but” in the story…” the queen of condoms reacts ignoring my remark.

“Well yeah… she disappeared in the kitchen to bring more booze, so I turned on the TV, I thought some decent erotic channel wouldn’t hurt in the process but I stopped at a documentary, it was filmed in Kenya, I think, with beautiful shots and interesting narrations… she came back at the part on mating lions, she asked me if liked it, I found her question odd but I answered “of course” and she got completely hysterical.”

“How… how do you mean?” she asks fidgeting anxiously with her coffee mug.

“She… she freaked out saying she couldn’t believe I’m into that too. It so strange, out of context, I guess it was probably some dark secret with his ex, so I didn’t ask.”

What a coincidence!

“Interesting, the same…” I reply but a nervous little hand beats me in the thigh under the table. What the hell is she doing?

“Go… go on Mike, and what happened after that?” she inquires with a forced smile.

“I managed to calm her down, switched to Playboy channel, and you know… we begin to get  into the thing on the couch… but my stomach started rumbling, I was starving since I hadn’t eaten the whole day. So I asked her if I could grab some food before we… you know… and she almost begin to cry, explaining she never mixes food into sex, it was so incoherent, I couldn’t even understand what’s happening…” he recalls causing me a lightbulb moment.

“Jesus Mike, I know why she acted like that…” I exclaim chuckling since it I know this is more than a simple coincidence, his story has too much in common with my conversation with Claudia. Actually, now that it’s not about me, it actually sounds funny. Hilariously funny, I can’t stop shaking of repressed laughter… But those restless fingers pinch me in the thigh this time and when I turn right to challenge her, all I can see are two, huge, warm, brown eyes, begging me concerned… and suddenly I realize what they are trying to say.

“And why?” Mike asks back. Okay, I have to find out something, and I have to do it fast, think…

“Because… because… she chickened out!”

“Yes, that must have been the reason.” she agrees as quickly as possible. Okay, crisis averted.

“She didn’t.” Mike smirks. “She finally allowed me to grab some snacks and then… mature content.” he illustrates with fitting hand moves the events. “Okay, she turned out to be into rodeo roleplay, which was new to me but… after all, it was fun.” he shrugs not too convincingly.

“Was she wearing boots with spurs?”

“Damn, Camden, you always grasp the most important details…”

“She wasn’t… but she had a hat made bondage stuff to me but it was fine.”

Our meals arrive in the meantime but somehow the consumption of my vegan cheese plate seems to be incompatible with the picture of the naked Mike tied to a bed and ridden by Claudia only wearing a cowboy hat.

“A lot of people are into it but of course, there are different levels.” our troublemaker plays the expert with her mouth full.

“It was the enjoyable level bondage. Anyway, she had one more outburst, when we were finished.” he tells stuffing a considerable pile of scrambled egg into his mouth. “After the action, she went out to the bathroom but she threatened to slit my throat if I’d follow her. Like, why would I do that?”

I snort but I manage to fake a cough fast enough not to be noticed by Mike and abused by the travel-size Terminator.

“I don’t know, shower sex?” she shrugs casually munching too. Like she knows.

“Yeah, but that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Whatever. Anyway, guys, how was your night?”

“Terrible.”

“Awful.” we answer at once.

“Why, was it because of the motel or…?”

“I had nightmares… I mean, during that one single hour I slept. I didn’t really dare fall asleep because of the cockroaches… and I kept dreaming about them.” she begins to play with the food pushing it around on the plate.

“Stone, you had nightmares too?”

“Oh, no… although I had every reason to do so. I don’t know, the bed was uncomfortable.”

There’s an awkward silence. Mike devotes all his attention to his food and honestly, probably neither of us minds that he stops asking about last night. Anyway, as for the Claudia thing, she was right. He was proud of his conquest, facing him with the fact he was only a backup target would have totally ruined his confidence. I have to warn Scully too, he’s such a gossip. And Ed would certainly disapprove it but come on, Mike just wants to enjoy being the member of a rock band. He doesn’t fuck girls in every bush we pass by, I don’t think he should be executed for it. Jeff isn’t better either, drooling over you colleague, how immature and irresponsible…

“Hi Jeff!”

Speak of the devil. Anyway, why is she so suddenly so enthusiastic of seeing him?

“Hi guys. Wow, that looks good.” our bassist leans over to check my plate while Mike pulls his leg back to leave him space. Of course he couldn’t do that a few minutes earlier, so typical.

“If you ask me, it tastes better without Mike’s bizarre sex adventures but it’s a matter of taste.”

“Bizarre sex adventures? Something tells me I have to catch up.” he laughs. “How are you, Judy? You disappeared tomorrow so early.”

“Thanks, I’m fine, I was just…tired. Look, Jeff, I was thinking… if you wanna hang out today before the show? I mean, you said you’d show me a few chords and…”

I can’t believe my ears. What made her change her mind? If Dave’s jealousy trick worked out, I have to re-evaluate my knowledge about dating.

“Sure.” Jeff’s face lights up. “Anytime.”

“Aaaanytime, Juuudy…” I mock. ”Just don’t forget to put some money in his G-string.” I add mumbling.

“Jesus, Stone, you’re gross!” Mike drops his fork annoyed.

“I’m the gross? Remember, Mike…” I’m ready to remind him of his various drunk performances but as the debate is about to get heated, Eric shows up in the diner followed by Ed and Beth.

“Guys, we have a problem…”

[aflyingcontradiction]

The Magnus Archives Relisten: Episode 51 - High Pressure

The only thing interesting or unusual about his [Simon Fairchild's] story was the amount of money he was willing to throw around to back it up. - Statement of Antonia Hayley

Well, he's had some time to amass it, hasn't he?

As I went in I thought I heard Simon, the old man, shout after me, but I couldn’t make it out.

Simon really has a mode of operation, doesn't he? Mind, shouting cryptic things at your victims just as they're about to encounter the Vast and realise the meaning behind what you're saying loses some of its drama WHEN THEY CAN'T HEAR WHAT YOU'RE SAYING, SIMON!

It was certainly an impressive sight – a late 19th century steam yacht, slightly decayed from its time on the ocean floor but, all-in-all, astoundingly well-preserved.

How long has this ship actually been there? Did Fairchild sink it in preparation of this particular event? Does he just keep making people dive for it every so often once enough time has passed? Is the ship itself part of an event in which someone was fed to the Vast? Inquiring minds want to know the story of the Maria Fairchild!

The first was that below the hole there was no seafloor, just a deep and endless expanse of empty water, as though the boat were on a cliff edge. The second was that it was far, far too dark.

Okay, exiting a boat you're diving through and suddenly finding yourself in the open ocean way further down than you should be or could even survive being is already terrifying enough, but...

It was only a shadow in the dark, but it was there. And it was huge. (...) I could not see the ends of it. It was so big it made me lightheaded to think about it, to try and place myself in some believable scale against it. I think it was a hand, but I could not see enough to be sure. Then it moved, slowly but clearly, and I realized how far away it still was, as it got bigger and bigger and bigger, and I could see nothing else, and I screamed.

... then it gets worse. Just the "I think it was a hand" after already describing the thing's unbelievable size...

We weren’t even able to glean sufficient information to track down any of those mentioned in the statement aside from Captain Morten Kemp, who now runs boat tours near Winnipeg, and declined to comment on it in the strongest possible terms. - Jon

I feel like we missed an interesting part of what happened to the other people on board, given that Julio just straight up disappears (and may well be dead) and the Captain apparently decides to foresake the open sea.

Looking into it, it turned out that the jewels had, in the 1930s, belonged to a con artist and fence who had attracted the displeasure of the local population. When one particularly irate customer threw him out of a fourth floor window into a crowded street at midday, no one claimed to have seen anything.

So, is this the point at which Simon Fairchild turns into an Avatar of the Vast? (I mean, turning into an Avatar fully always involves dying-but-not, doesn't it?)

No real business to speak of, but it appears they’ve invested very wisely in aerospace technology, shipping logistics, and underwater drilling and construction.

All the places one thinks about when going "Oh shit, there's so MUCH of it" in short.

Not!Sasha: Yes. Sometimes I – can’t pull myself away from it [the Web table].

Yeah, no shit, you're not lying! This is actually a little funny in hindsight.

Not!Sasha: No… no, it isn’t, I’ve always seen it more… like a web? (...) I doubt it. It [the thing that took Graham] didn’t sound like the sort of thing that would want to be bound to an object.

She just straight up TELLS Jon "The table is a Web thing" and "the Thing-that-steals-people's-lives doesn't belong to the table", which is very considerate, really! And what does Jon go and do with that information... (I think this episode was one of multiple that just had me internally screaming "OH GODDAMMIT JON! JUST REALISE ALREADY!" They're standing by the damn table for several minutes, idly chatting about the guy who was taken, and Jon just goes "Oh, we haven't seen any stalkery long-limbed things" rather than thinking "This table was seen at an event in which someone was replaced with barely anyone noticing. Makes you think.")

Oh – and I found out where she’s been going when she takes extra-long lunch breaks. It seems harmless enough, but I admit I am a bit baffled. Every few days, she travels up to Baker Street, to spend anywhere from ten minutes to a full hour in Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum. - Jon

What better place for a Stranger being to hang out in?

My impression of this episode

This episode has some images that remind me entirely too much of recurring nightmares I had as a child. The vastness of the ocean is something I find highly unsettling, so yeah, this episode was quite effective on me and continued Simon Fairchild's unbroken reign of terror against my peace of mind, specifically. And the supplement is also very interesting, if a bit frustrating. DAMN IT JON!

[sadoeuphemist]

I ran into an old friend the other week, quite by accident. I hadn’t seen her in years, and we literally bumped into each other on the street. It’s funny how these things happen.

Although, to be honest, perhaps we were never quite friends to begin with. We went to the same high school, you see, and we were friends largely by circumstance. My parents worked long hours and were frequently late to pick me up from school. I would be there an hour, sometimes even two hours after all the other students had gone home, still waiting for my parents to come. And Noriko would be there waiting with me.

I presume that her parents also worked late, although now that I think about it I can’t remember her telling me that herself. We would perch on the steps just inside the school gate, talking and whiling away the time. She was a sort of strange girl even then. I remember her telling me a story about how the tropical fish her parents had bought had all gotten sick and died, one by one, and how she had watched as her father had fished out the dead bodies, with their colorful flowing scales, and slid them down the garbage disposal with a roaring whirr. The way she told it, she made the whole ceremony sound rather beautiful. In any case, I didn’t find her creepy at all at the time. I was just glad for the company.

It’s only occurred to me recently, but I don’t think in all the years we knew each other, I ever saw her parents pick her up before mine.

We went to different colleges, and that was largely the end of our friendship. We sort of stayed in touch online, but that was hardly anything. We’d exchange words one or two times a year, if that. ‘Merry Christmas, Happy New Year,’ that sort of thing. I could have kept more in touch with her if I’d tried, but to be honest, I didn’t make the effort.

I didn’t even recognize her right away when we bumped into each other the other week. It was just luck that she couldn’t help but draw attention. We were just walking past on the street, as I said, and it was a slightly cloudy day, hadn’t rained at all, and yet her hair was bedraggled and her clothes were damp and rumpled and she smelled of salt. I couldn’t help but stare at her. And then after that we recognized each other. She looked like such a mess that I couldn’t help but invite her into a nearby coffee shop, so she could sit down and have something hot to drink and fix herself up a little.

“It’s nothing to worry about, just my job,” she told me, after she had a cup of coffee in her hands. “I’ve just finished a very taxing case. You don’t know what I do, do you?”

No, I told her. I myself was working at a bank; my father knew the manager and had gotten me the job immediately after I finished college.

“Ah,” said Noriko. “I’m working for Death.”

“Death?” I said, and smiled like I understood what she was talking about. “You need to get drenched to work for Death?”

“Not usually,” Noriko said, smiling. “Usually it’s much simpler. We’re assigned the cause of death, you see.”

Like a gun? I asked. Or a knife?

“Yes,” said Noriko, “there are those. But mostly it’s much simpler than that.” She blew across the top of her coffee and peered at it as if it was the surface of a lake. “Most people, they think of Death as something external. Like a gun, as you said, or a knife. Something that comes from the outside and penetrates them.” She jabbed one finger through the air. “As if Death comes speeding towards them from a great distance, and all they have to do is avoid the collision.

“But most of the time,” she said, “Death is internal. We’re not handed anything at all. It’s their own heart that kills them. Or their lungs. Or some cancer that’s growing inside their body. We wouldn’t have anything to carry then, would we? That’s my kind of job. I like traveling light. Or even if it’s some disease that kills them, a virus, that’s hardly anything to carry at all, is it?” She showed me her empty hands. “Could you see a virus, or a bacteria, or a plague there, even if I had one?”

Not at all, I had to admit.

“So that’s what the job’s normally like,” she said. “No trouble at all. And even with car accidents, for example, it’s very easy to take a car around with you. It’s just this one job I just finished.” She sighed. “What a hassle! You’ll never believe the cause of death for this one!”

I really couldn’t guess, I told her.

Noriko laughed. “It was a humpback whale!”

I made a small noise then, trying to act surprised, although in truth I had no idea where the conversation was going at this point.

“The plan was simple enough,” Noriko said. “The client was a sailor - I can’t tell you his name, that’s confidential information - so it’s sensible enough for him to be killed by a humpback whale. The whale accidentally bumps against his boat, he falls over the side, and the whale crushes him against the side of the boat while trying to get away. Simple. But carrying it all out!” She ran a hand through her bedraggled hair. “What a nightmare! Just the logistics of maneuvering the whale about, making sure it was in the right place at the right time, Arranging for the transportation. Ugh.” She shook her head and took another sip of coffee. “But it’s done now, so at least that’s over.”

She swirled the coffee around in the cup and looked at me pensively. “Honestly, the most upsetting part of the job was working with the whale.”

Was it dangerous? I asked.

“No, no!” she said. “Nothing like that. She was very pleasant to work with. Very cooperative. But it was a traumatic experience for the whale too, of course. Crashing into a boat and crushing someone against the side of it! It’s just - upsetting that she had to go through all that.”

“If you feel that bad for the whale,” I said, “how do you deal with all the people you have to kill?”

“That’s different,” she said. “Those people have to die. That’s my whole job. They’re the entire focus of this. So it’s not so sad when someone dies. That’s simply what has to happen. But the whale - she’s an incidental participant in all of this. She’s almost an innocent bystander. It just seems unfair - I don’t know if you’ll understand - in this great important moment for another person, probably the most important moment in his life, if you think about it that way. And then afterwards she’s going to swim away, traumatized, and never going to have anything to do with him again. It seems almost unfair that she should have to be involved with that, doesn’t it? It had nothing to do with her to begin with.”

The whole time she had been talking there had been this icy feeling creeping into my feet and my hands, like I was in the freezing water alongside the man, waiting for the whale to crash into me, and now I tried to shake it off. “I think I know what you mean,” I told her. “We had a client at the bank - I can’t tell you her name either. But she had transferred a great deal of money overseas. And either someone had hacked her email and sent her the wrong instructions, or the whole thing was a scam to begin with - I never knew the precise details about it - but she was desperate to get the money back. She would call at all times, all day long. And we did the best we could to get the transaction reversed. But in the end, it didn’t work. She had sent the money out, and there was nothing we could do.

“I still think about her sometimes. She closed her account with the bank. I have no idea what happened to her. Her life was probably ruined by this, as far as I know. And I was there trying to help her, and the bank was trying to help her. And . .. it’s like you said. It seems unfair that there are all these people trying to help her, an entire institution trying to get her money back, and in the end we just follow the rules and nothing happens and we forget about her and she disappears completely from our lives” I looked down at my cup. “It feels like, if we were going to play a role in all of this, we should have at least have had some stake in it.”

“Mm,” said Noriko. “That’s it. That’s it exactly.” She put her empty cup down and slapped her knees. “Anyway. That’s all over now. And I really do enjoy my job.”

“It’s a living,” I said.

“I have another case next week,” she said. “A woman dying of a heart attack. Nothing at all to carry. Nothing to bring with me. I’m going to walk into her house empty-handed. And she’s going to see me and know that there’s nothing else involved in this, that her death will just be between me and her, and there’s nothing else she has to concern herself with.” She smiled dreamily. “That’s the way it should be done, don’t you think? Empty-handed.”

I mumbled a reply.

“Well,” she said, “I have to be going now. Thank you for the coffee. It was nice to catch up with you.” She stood up and nodded her head slightly at me. “See you around.” She pointed down at my cup. “And finish up your coffee.”

She was out the door before I could say anything. It must be busy, working for Death, after all. I might’ve called after her. I might’ve found out more. There are gaps in my memory after all these years, after all. I’d meant to ask her if her parents really had been working late all those years ago, or if there had been more going on with her family that I had been too self-centered to ask about, if there was a reason no one ever came to pick her up from school. But too many years had passed since then, and it would have been too awkward to ask the question now.

After all, to be honest, perhaps we had never quite been friends to begin with.

[artificialqueens]

Couples' Therapy : Chapter one (Branjie) - BlackHighHeels

AN: This is a ‘kind of 'sequel to “For they know not what they do”.

Actually it’s just a way for me to have fun with this idea of therapy and Branjie combined ;) I am not sure however how much sense some parts make, if you don’t know the the first part.

(Read on AO3)

Chapter 1: Mommy Dearest

"Hey, you look nothing like Dr. Phil, mama,“ Jose greets their therapist when they walk into her office. His charm is coming across and it hits Brock once again how incredibly charismatic his boyfriend is, even when he is nervous.

"I’d hope so,” the small blonde woman replies, with an amused smile on her face. “My name is Dr. Bernard, but you can call me Laurie. Most of my clients do.”

“I’m Brock,” he introduces himself as they shake hands.

“Jose.” Another handshake, then they both take the offered seats on a couch opposite the chair where the therapist sits down.

“I hope traffic wasn’t too bad and you found my office alright.”

“It was fine,” Brock replies politely.

“It was the usual rush hour nightmare, bitch, that’s why you made us leave an hour earlier than necessary and we been hanging out at Starbucks round the corner for the last forty minutes,” Jose snorts with amusement, teasing Brock. He, however doesn’t find it too funny and gives the therapist an apologetic look. This is just about a bit of small talk and not about recounting every detail of their drive.

“Still fine. We got here on time, found everything alright.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Laurie intervened. “So, how can I help you?

"We here for the couple’s counselling therapy stuff. We thought maybe you could fix us so we won’t break up again. 'Cause it fucking sucked.” Jose mumbles more than he speaks, the longer he talks.

“Is this your first time in therapy?”

“Yes,” Brock nods.

“No,” Jose says at the same time.

“You’ve been to couples therapy before?” Brock is more than surprised.

“Huh? No, no. Not Couple therapy. Just therapy. Feels like I spent most of my damn time at school in some sort of therapy.” That is also news to Brock, but he decides not to get into that here. He will just ask him once they are back home. Jose looks really uncomfortable and shy now, so he’ll need a moment anyway.

“So, seeing as neither of you has been to couples therapy before, I think we should start with the basics, so you can decide, if you want to really do this. First, everything you say is absolutely confidential. I understand that the both of you are in showbiz, so I want to point that out that this is a safe place.” They both nod and Brock feels himself relax a bit, even though the whole thing still makes him anxious. The fact that Jose is so unusually quiet and shy forces him to remain calm though. They can’t both lose it.

“As for the rest, I will usually give you some sort of homework. And I also want to point out that therapy only works if you are honest, but also respectful with each other. So, no yelling, no insults  or threats.”

“You did good when you researched the shit for our big talk, boo” Jose whispers, meaning Laurie can still hear it. Brock just smiles at him when he feels his hand slide into his at the same time.

“Also, I don’t know if that’s an issue here, but no drugs or alcohol while your are here. I know these talks can be tricky, but I can’t really work with you if you are under the influence.” They both nod, knowing that this wouldn’t be an issue for either of them.

“Soo, shall we start?” Laurie smiles and grabs a notepad from the table. Brock feels Jose tightening his grip on his hand. “How about you tell me a bit about yourself and the relationship? Brock, why don’t you start?”

He takes a calming breath before he starts to talk and laces his fingers through Jo’s to make the physical connection tighter.

“Uhm, we’re both working as drag queens and met while filming Drag race. We got together in front of the camera’s and then dated for a while afterwards. After couple of months we broke up, because it wasn’t working for either of us. But, like…. we remained friends. At some point I moved here to L.A. and Jo moved in with me for logistical reasons. We became closer again and finally got back together. We’re here now so the issues we had back then won’t break us up again.” It is the best he can do for now. He knows it is a very brief version and a lot of details are missing, but he doesn’t know this woman yet. And the fact that she’s taking notes doesn’t make it any easier.

“Jose?”

“Uuhm… what he said. I agree,” he mumbles. Brock gets the impression that if he could, Jose would hide behind him or underneath the table. Brock has rarely seen him this shy and intimidated. Where is Miss Vanjie when he needs her?

“Can you still tell me your own version of events?” Laurie’s smile is friendly and open. Brock really likes her. She reminds him of his best friend in South Africa.

“You a Emeli Sande fan?” Jose asks, suddenly a bit more himself. The therapist just laughs and looks expectantly at him. “So, uhh… I fucked up the first time I was on Drag Race, but then became a meme and they called me back for another season. He was on there as well. We started jokin’ and flirtin’ from the get go and then suddenly we were kissing. We couldn’t talk for shit or do anything more, 'cause of the cameras. He kicked my out by winning the lip-sync against me and Miss Vanjie had to go home for a second time. Once he was done filmin’ we spent some time together and dated for 18 weeks. Then we broke up, cause he wanted his freedom and my clingy ass was travelin’ all the time because of season 10. After filmin’ the reunion and the finale and all that shit we went on tour and started hanging out again. Then started doing more than hanging out.” Brock does a double take when Jose actually blushes.

“Were you back together or were you just having sex?” the therapist asks.

“We were just hooking up. I knew he didn’t want me back, but I couldn’t stay away. I mean, look at him, he cute right?” Jose smiles and slowly relaxes. “We lost contact after the tour for a while, then bumped into each other. And again, I couldn’t resist him. But, uhm, he… did what he did and I dated someone else and then after the break-up he asked me if I wanna join him in his house to look after the kitty cats and 'cause I was looking for a new apartment. And then… yeah… we started talking, started flirting, started hooking up again and then got back together. And now, four months later, here we are.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me, both of you. That was very interesting. If each of you could name one thing that you think is the biggest problem in your relationship, what would it be?”

“I start again?” Brock wonders.

“Whoever wants to go first.”

“I’m fucking scared all the time,” Jose suddenly blurts out and Brock’s head whips around to face him, mouth hanging open.

“What?” he gasps. He is truly shocked by Jose’s choice of words. Why is he scared? Not of him, right? And why all the time? What is going on?

“What are you scared of?” Laurie speaks out loud what Brock also wants to know, but she is a lot less panicked than he feels.

“One of us gonna fuck up. He gonna leave. We gonna fight again and I’m gonna get so fucking mad again I wanna hit him again,” Jose takes his hand back and leans forward, both arms resting against his upper thighs, head hanging down. “Me being too much. He wanting his freedom again.” He shrugs but doesn’t look up.

“So, is it ok to say you’d think 'trust’ is an issue? Trust in the relationship and in your partner? Maybe in yourself?”

“Yeah,” Jose nods and finally raises his head. Brock reaches over and rubs his back encouragingly. The slow movement calms him as much as his boyfriend.

“Brock, what do you think?”

“I agree,” he says and takes his eyes off Jose to look at the therapist. “Although I think that the reason why we have trust issues is because of our communication problems.”

“Yeah, boo, we really suck at it most of the time.” Jose’s hand is back in his, gives it an encouraging squeeze.

“Do you think you don’t communicate well because you don’t trust each other, or you don’t trust each other because you don’t communicate adequately?” Jose looks at him helplessly and Brock gets that he doesn’t understand the last word, but doesn’t want to ask.

“I think either, both. I don’t like talking about hard things, it gives me anxiety. But if I have to talk to someone, I know I can talk to him, better than to anyone else. Just when it’s about us, it gets hard. He doesn’t trust me being committed to the relationship or him. But he usually tries to communicate with me. I just don’t always wanna talk to hear it.” He doesn’t really know how to explain it. It’s like a vicious circle and he doesn’t really know where it starts or ends. It’s like the question with the hen and the egg.

“Jose, you agree?”

“Yeah, sounds right.”

“Ok, then I think we should stop here for today and I’m going to give you your homework for next time. Do you have any questions before then?”

“We not gonna get graded, right?” it bursts out of Jose and Brock has to laugh. The panic on his boyfriend’s face about possible grades is simply too cute.

“No, you won’t,” Dr. Bernard smiles as well. “Any other questions?”

“Actually, Doc, I think I do,” Jose says and surprises Brock once again. “I think maybe you could help us with a real communication issue we having right now.” Brock groans loudly, because he suddenly knows what’s coming.

“Jo, this is really not Dr…” he tries to stop him.

“No, it’s ok. You can ask and I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” he is stopped by the doctor.

“Imma be real quick,” Jose is looking smug now and continues. “This morning we had a fight cause my man thinks it’s my job to tell my mama and aunt that they shouldn’t hang by the pool all the time and shouldn’t come in with their own key whenever they like. Now, I know they’re my family, problemo is, that he the one who gave them the key and he the one who said, and I quote 'You can come over any time’. What do you say to that, Dr. Laurie?”

“Why don’t you want to be the one who talks to your mother?"

"She’s gonna whoop my ass and think I don’t want her no more. Also I don’t care if they hang at our place.”

“You do care! You’re as annoyed as me,” Brock interrupts.

“I am, but I told you before: you fucked up. You fucked up when you gone and said Bienvenido and gave them the key, so you fix it, boo,” Jose leans back against the couch.

“Why don’t you talk to them together and explain that you need your privacy and agree beforehand on some rules for the use of the key?” The therapist proposes.

“She’ll whoop both our asses!”

“Don’t you always say that we’re in this together, papi?” Brock laughs and bumps his shoulder against Jose’s.

“You suck!” Jose huffs, but smiles.

“More questions? About the sessions? Anything?” the therapist asks again.

“Nope,” Jose shakes his head this time and Brock does the same.

“Good, then I want to start with a small exercise for next week. I want each of you to write down three small things in your relationship that annoy you about the other one. And three small things you love about each other. For now I don’t want you to talk about any of this at home, because we will talk about it here. Ok?”

“Dully noted,” Jose nods as they both get up. With another handshake they leave the office and Brock takes a deep breath when they’re outside. Although it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared, he is still glad he has another week until they have to go back. If only the talk to his mother in law wouldn’t await in between now and then…

TBC

[c-is-for-circinate]

Ten episodes into Critical Role (starting with the second season, and NO SPOILERS PLEASE), and okay yeah, I get why people like the show.

There’s a lot to talk about and I’m sure most of it’s been said before, but I’m just in love with how nuanced and contradictory these characters are.  And contradictory is exactly the right word, not just because of how they oppose each other (though goddamn that is fun), but how they oppose themselves, how every single character is this mess of characteristics that don’t match up on first glance, except they actually fit together to create such rich characters.

Like Fjord, okay, start with him--he’s not the leader because this group is too much of a disaster to have a leader, but he’s the most consistently calm, solid, reliable, and generally sensible person in the whole group.  Which is not usually how you’d expect your party’s half-orc to behave, but that’s fine, that’s just messing with race expectations, that’s easy.  What’s interesting about Fjord is that he’s so clearly the group’s token decent guy, the honest man.  He has an eldritch nightmare and actually tells the others about it, which nobody else in that fucking crew except maybe Jester would.  He’s a straightforward guy who seems like he was maybe actually normal once, again unique in this group, who also happens to be a warlock with very clearly eldritch powers he doesn’t understand.  And he has no problem whatsoever with using and expanding those powers, or with killing, or with stealing and conning and enjoying any ill-gotten gains the group may collect.  His objections to the team’s plans are almost always practical and logistical (the ‘this seems very complicated and also is likely to end in this very obvious disaster when this logical hole gives way under us’ sort), not moral.  It consistently feels like, if he hadn’t had whatever disaster shipwreck eldritch sea-beast warlock pact experience set him off on this path, he out of the whole group would be obeying laws and being generally decent to the people around him and working a simple, honest job with some hard labor involved, and he’d be happy with it--but he’s on this boat now and he’s in completely, and he’s just as forthright with that loyalty as he is with everything else.

And Jester is flighty and silly and fun and describes a childhood that horrifies the entire rest of the group in blithe, carefree tones, and I love it so much because it makes so much sense.  Sure, she was isolated, secluded, and hidden from the world for years--but it was important for her mom’s business, and her mom loved her, and it was normal, and it was fine.  Because that’s normal to her.  And she’s completely carefree about her childhood, just like she makes a carefree game out of slaughtering gnolls and being entirely willing to kill guards or other sentient people, with the same level of fun as she gets pulling minor pranks.  She would happily and generously give away pastries or money or healing to anyone, and then turn right around and fuck up their entire day just because it’s funny, and not even see a conflict there.  Except that every once in a while we get a glimpse of just how desperately lonely she’s been for so fucking long--and it only comes out when she’s talking to or about the Traveler.  It’s never when she’s talking about home, or the brothel, or the room when she was locked in, because those things were normal and fine.  What’s not fine is the idea that she might lose contact with the Traveler, or maybe her mother.  And of course that’s it.  Because everything that was normal and fine and happy and funny had to be okay, because it was life, and that’s just how it was, but the Traveler and maybe her mother were the things that made it all okay, and if she loses them, she loses everything.

And I haven’t even begun to figure out Nott yet, Nott who seems in many aspects like the most straightforward member of the whole crew--not in the Fjord way of directness and honesty, but in the easy, tropey, simple-to-classify way.  The goblin rogue who loves picking pockets and collecting shiny things, quick and sly and easily intimidated, with quick fingers and a bit of a background in alchemy, it all makes sense.  Nott makes sense.  Except that if you take a step back and look around at context, Nott makes no fucking sense at all.  I have no idea why she’s out here, adventuring with these losers, instead of back home with the other goblins.  We have seen zero other goblins out and around populated places so far.  Even her partnership with Caleb straddles the line between ‘oh, of course’--a couple of criminals who met in prison and helped each other escape and decided it was more practical to stick together? sure! makes sense for a goblin!--and ‘wait, what the fuck?’.  Why was Nott in any sort of prison that Caleb would ever be in to begin with?  If she was arrested by humans, why didn’t they just kill her outright, given the attitudes most humans we’ve seen seem to have to goblins?  She is so friendly and ready to hang with the rest of the group, is so delighted to play with Jester, she’s such a social creature, so how did she ever end up playing sidekick with this socially awkward human disaster to begin with?

And right, speaking of Caleb, the man is a goddamn mess, even putting aside all of his stubbornness and his mysteries and the actual literal mess of him.  He’s shy and awkward and anxious and scared around people, except for when he decides to very intensely threaten somebody with murder and disembowelment, just as a matter of course.  He’s anxious about everything, but he’s okay with monster-hunting.  And he’s fine with murder, so long as it isn’t done with fire, he’s one of the first to go in for robbing corpses, he straight up does not give a shit about the people he and Nott rob, he doesn’t trust or even particularly like the rest of the Nein, he doesn’t (appear to) care about other people at all--except that he would do anything for Nott, full stop.  And he has strong feelings about parents and kids and families, and he gave Jester the money he swiped from the spider lair because he got angry at her for being an apparent spoiled rich girl and wanted to apologize, and because it seemed important to her an he cared.  And all of these truths hang together around the central figure of this one guy with a fucked-up past he doesn’t have words for, who prefers books to people and doesn’t really know what he’s doing, in the world, in general, even at the fairly low level he thinks he does.

And of course Caleb keeps clashing with Beau, because Beau is simultaneously so self-invested and yet also somehow more interrogative of the whole world around her than anyone else in the group.  Beau wants to know all of Caleb’s secrets.  She wants to know everybody’s secrets, but she wants Caleb most of all, because he’s spent the most effort trying to keep them that way.  And she’s so curious about her party members, so curious about things going on in the world--she asks more questions about random shit than anyone, she’s currently spearheading both the investigation into the Gentleman and, with Fjord, the Zadash revolutionary’s club, because she wants to know.  Except Beau never gives off the impression of actually liking anybody or anything she discovers.  (Fjord trying to give her lessons on complimenting somebody without making it sound like a backhanded insult was amazing.)  She has ‘chip on my shoulder’ writ so large across her it might as well be in neon.  She is Out For Herself; she hates the system but she’s not going to go looking for ways to take it down, not when she can drink and fight shit to get cash that she can spend to drink with.  But she can’t stop asking questions.  She Doesn’t Care, but she can’t stop trying to learn more.  And right, the constant back and forth of ‘yes she cares’-’no she’s a self-interested bitch’ could feel wishy-washy, but instead it just feels right, because Beau is very young and very angry and very impulsive, and she is very bad at effectively caring for the things and people she cares about, and it is so clear that she’s been treated so badly and had so little power to fight back.  And now she’s got the power to fight back so she lashes out and she hits things and she’s constantly mean, and she chokes out the little girl she got arrested to protect two days earlier because nobody ever taught Beau how people actually take care of other people, did they.  She needs to know Caleb’s secrets because Caleb having stuff going on that he won’t talk about means that there are factors at play that can affect Beau’s life that she can’t control, can’t even know about.  All I know about her parents so far is that they had enough money to pay a temple to take her away when she caused too much trouble for them.  Which actually appears to say pretty much everything that needs to be said.

And fucking Mollymauk Tealeaf, the one goddamn spoiler I had for this show before I started it and I am simultaneously gutted over him from day one and grateful to be prepared because I do not think I would take losing him well as a surprise.  Molly is so fucking good.  He’s a good character, and he’s such a good person, except he would cheerfully deny it with a grin if anyone ever accused him of it.  He is such a tremendous cynic.  He has been all over and he believes that people in groups of any size are stupid, dangerous, probably corrupt, generally bigoted, probably lazy, and out for themselves at every turn.  No horror anyone does can surprise him, and yet he’s blithe and easy about it all.  Of course people are terrible, that’s just how people are, no sense getting depressed over it.  He’ll just slide his way in with a smile and a deck of tarot cards and a bit of flash and dazzle, use people’s vices against them, maybe run just a bit of a con if it looks to be profitable, and slide right back out again.�� Except that by god, Molly cares every bit as much as Beau does and unlike her, he actually knows it.  He was ready to go to the mat for any- and everyone in that circus, called it a family and held on to it as hard as he possibly could even as everyone in it bickered and hated each other and were ready to jump town and leave each other behind.  He is so kind to people with less than he has.  And he’s never forceful about it, he never pushes his care forward, he just makes a few gentle comments to Jester about expectations and disappointment that might help ease the crushing blow he so clearly sees coming her way, without actually calling her out or starting an argument.  He just suggests to Nott that there exist people in the world that shouldn’t be robbed, not because they’ve no money worth stealing but because those people can’t afford to lose what little they have.  At some point he took it upon himself to be the person who keeps an eye on everyone else in the party, whether to try to defuse an argument or pick someone up when they’re down or corner them and take them to task, quietly, out of earshot of all the others.  It’s impossible not to get the sense that Molly is already more invested in this group working and staying together than anyone else here, and he takes that fact as a given, and he’s ready to put in the quiet background work to keep it in one piece.  He’s already brushed off or buried whatever mourning he did for the broken circus family he so clearly loved so well, and it should be a contradiction, but mostly it just feels like Molly is too used to being ready for things to go south and people to leave, because life is just shit like that and you take what you can get.  He treats love exactly the same way he treats money: a thing that’s hard to come by and well worth collecting if you possibly can, to be enjoyed and played with to the very fullest while you have it, because soon enough it’ll be gone again either way.

At any rate, I’m really enamoured of this show that has characters so nuanced by ten episodes in.  (Granted, ten episodes clocks close to 40 hours, but shhhh.  D&D time is different.)  I chalk a ton of it up to, ‘oh, shit, this is why voice actors are the perfect people to put on D&D as a massive serial fiction adventure’.  Every single person at the table makes a living out of putting nuance into characters with just their voice, so of course they know what they’re doing, and they’ve all played zillions of characters (their IMDB pages are so long, jfc) with plenty of nuance to begin with.  They know how to do this shit.

The other thing, I think, is that everybody at the table feels safe with the idea that they’ll have enough time to draw these characters out all the way to the end.  Everybody in this group has so many secrets, so many of the linking pieces that lay out and explain the layers and contradictions, and nobody is rushing to pull any of them out on the table right up at the start, because everybody there is totally secure in the idea that they’ll get 500-odd hours to tell this story and it doesn’t all have to happen yet.  Character death is always a risk, but the only healer isn’t going to up and move to another state, and nobody is going to get married and have no time any more, and the DM’s manager at work isn’t going to suddenly start assigning Thursday night shifts and all of the sudden scheduling is a disaster for so long it never gets fixed.  Nobody is going to decide they don’t care any more and just stop showing up.  They’ve been at this together a long, long time, and also they’re making an actual show about it that they actually get paid for, and they can take as long to tell the story, and make it whatever story, that they want.  It’s a really different kind of energy than any D&D game I ever managed to play, and even different from most shows that never know when the ‘cancel’ hammer might come down from the network.

It’s pretty cool.  I like it a lot.