#there would be days i would just check up on all my micro celebrities

[mueritos]

Hey. Idk if this is me growing up or just being disillusioned with inter celebs etc. Im a 23 yr old trans man so I grew up and was inspired by chella on the YouTube community. But now I just…don’t like chella man anymore. I feel like…he became an industry plant? Over the pandemic asking fans for money to send to him directly to help others and not showing where the money was going exactly incident as well as just becoming older I noticed he seemed to almost want to become the next Keith haring or basquiat? He almost…now seems very fake? He takes deals with brands to be representation but doesn’t do much to call out certain brands for their faults etc.

Idk anymore

I give Chella credit in that he was one of the few transmen that I looked up while I was young, especially with him being BIPOC. Showing him to my family helped them understand me. But that's where the inspiration kinda stops, because it was painful to be surrounded by years-in-transition trans men online when I was absolutely nowhere I wanted to be. That was a me problem tho. But I also didn't know much about his whole donation incident.

Ig heres what I have to say. It's not great to view other people as your justification of your morals. We don't know how people have had to live or how they live now, we don't know what decisions they have to make, and we dont know what kind of fears or goals they have. Chella is allowed to do whatever he wants with his art or his modelling career, just like how I genuinely believe anyone else in the world is capable of making the right decisions for themselves (even if we dont like those decisions!). Im not really concerned with figuring out if hes an industry plant or a "class traitor" (lol) or even if he's "fake". To be honest, I'm all for BIPOC folks getting their $. Does that mean I enjoy seeing wealthy BIPOC folk perpetuate classism and racism? No. Just cuz someone is succeeding for themselves doesn't mean people cant critique them. I guess what Im saying is I see waaay too many people online take the things they enjoy and the people they follow as projections of their morals: "no! stop [Insert celebrity name] you're being problematic and its makes us fans look bad!" Like....Okay lmfao. People are grown adults and are going to make decisions for themselves. Just because you might enjoy a celebrity does not mean your morals are based on how good of a person they are.

and youre allowed to not like the same things anymore just like how people are allowed to change, for better or for worse. I think within online communities there is way too much pressure on "looking" like a good person versus actually being one...because sometimes BEING a good person makes you look absolutely vile in terms of online spaces/communities love of isolating, removing, and deleting "problematic" (and vulnerable) people from their spaces with no trial, discussion, or attempt at conflict mediation. Yea yea I do think people have every right to be criticized just as they have every right to make whatever decision they want, but what Im trying to get at is to really stop viewing anyone with a platform as someone you can other once they dont meet your standards. This is not the same as denouncing or critiquing someone for really egregious behavior (white supremacy, harrassment, bullying, interpersonal violence). Once you kinda start living by your own morals without needing other people's actions/behaviors to justify/define them, you learn to focus on building connections rather than destroying them.

again, this is a much nuanced topic and you prolly werent expecting me to go into this. but ive grown over the years and have engaged in some nasty and vile mob mentality behavior that i just dont vibe with anymore. im not really the kind of person now to speculate online or publicly what other people are doing or should be doing or whether theyre problematic or not. I don't really care about Chella man or most celebrities rn. People r just gonna be people, and I will always have empathy for those of marginalized identities. Free will, autonomy, and self determination goes both ways, but so does accountability, transformative justice, and reconciliation.

but also like kill ur idols lol

#muertoresponds #like yea its fun having people u follow and look up to man #does it take a lot of time to be following celebrities #there would be days i would just check up on all my micro celebrities #now i just dont give a fuck #theyre people im people we're people #we're all gonna change and do bad and do good #i dont like holding myself or anyone anymore to these fucked up online standards of looking like good people #idc idc idc #this was def not the answer u prolly wanted but its where im at and thats what i gotta say #have ur micro celebrities if u want but like yea #people r people #and so are u #critiques r valid but u cant hold anyone accountable unless they consent to be held accountable #like being held accountable means u choose to be part of the accountability process #not make a lil 5 min notes app apology and be forgotten about in a week because people find their next target #yadda yadda yadda #these r my thoughts

[meraki-yao]

God, he must be so overwhelmed being in that huge city far from home and alone. I know he's a grown man and he is working but it's always better to have someone close on these long and tiring journeys 🥹

See, I kind of have a little more complicated perspective on his trip to China

Taylor travels a lot (I think in September we saw him in Australia, New York, London and Spain?) and I think he mentioned he loves doing so, so to some degree I think travelling comes easier to him

But China is different from all the other places we've recently seen him travel to. I have some authority to say this as 1, I am Chinese (ethnicity-wise, I am living in Hong Kong), and used to visit family in the mainland (geopolitics are weird) at least once a year 2, I check on the RWRB Chinese fandom from time to time (still mostly here, I consider myself to be a western RWRB fan, being a Hong Konger is weird and fun in that regard) 3, racial micro-aggressions and colourism is a common issue in China that everyone just goes with (I am mad about that) 4, I know Chinese celebrity culture and how different it is from Western celebrity culture. I was so anxious for him the moment he landed at Shanghai airport because I was worried the different perception of both his race and him as a celebrity/him as Alex would hurt him in some way. I kid you not, I was worried the whole time, even if I know he's a grown man and there's functionally nothing I can do.

In a way it did and it didn't, I guess? There were a couple of issues that I personally had with the GQ event, but those are more my subjective opinions. And there was an incident two days ago that I cannot for the life of me find a reliable retelling, so take it with a pinch of salt, but what happened was there was an... art event? That Taylor attended at a restaurant? I think he co-designed something, either a plaque or a shirt. It was a private event, but one of the guests leaked the invite online, so people knew he was going there at what time, and then a crowd gathered at the restaurant and even though it was relatively peaceful and police were there to keep them in order, it's still a crowd in front of a restaurant. They didn't get to meet him, he had to leave through a back door, and later on Little Red Book said he had a change of plans. Again there are like, two contradicting narratives I could find and I pieced this together to the best of my ability, so please take it with a pinch of salt. However, I will say the whole gathering at a place where a celebrity would potentially show up is the norm in China. It's not good, it will cause inconvenience, but it is how it is.

But on the other hand, on the day of the GQ event when we saw him on the boat and everything, people were showing him so much love. People were shouting "Welcome to China" from the bridges, some people took the day off just to travel to the venue to see him, and a lot of them prepared gifts and cards for him. I heard some really fucking awful Twitter drama was happening to him at the same time (and no I don't want to hear about it) so it was relieving in a way to see him get so much love in real life. And Taylor was incredibly sweet, signing books and photos and phone cases. This would never happen with Chinese celebrities (because everything is monetized), especially with firstprince or TayNick photos. (because even shipping and RPS shipping is monetized! It's so fucked and I'm mad about it!)

I am still concerned with just how much work he had and how tight his schedule was (on the 7th he changed into 5 outfits, did a photoshoot in the morning in the black blazer, photoshoot and meeting with fans in the afternoon in the casual set, early dinner party and blue carpet in the white suit, water carpet and red carpet in the brown suit, then dinner party in the lilac suit, what the fuck, especially when apparently no other guest had this tight a schedule) and I was extra concerned when he said in the live stream that he came alone (I already suspected that when he arrived at the airport and the police were keeping order instead of private security) and I kind of think the whole trip could have been better organized or done in a way less demanding for him

But with that being said, I am incredibly proud of him and grateful for him for coming to China and doing all these events. It feels like a step. And I completely admire him for going through all of this in such a different, foreign environment on his own. As much as seeing the boys and RWRB content makes me happy (and frankly, helping my shitty mental health), I do hope he has a good rest when he gets back. I think this trip took a toll on him even if he (hopefully) enjoyed it.

Chinese RWRB fans are joking that as much as they want Nick to visit as well, with how intense Taylor's schedule turned out and how introverted and tired Nick is, he'd be "swimming back in England" after a day 🤣

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #taylor zakhar perez #alex claremont diaz #rwrb thoughts #this unintentionally turned into an essay #I have a lot of thoughts about this #anon ask #answered

[gunkbaby]

Just checking a few things:

1. So the other day I mentioned potentially making a Minecraft server. I’ve done a wee bit of research and the server would likely be on bedrock. I’m posting here mainly to get an interest check of if it’s worth me setting up.

The server wouldn’t really have a set theme, but I’d sort of be making it under the premise of something Shuu or TG-related. Idk. I just rly want a Minecraft server lol.

I’ve never made a server before, so ideally someone with experience might have interest and could help a bit lol. Depending on how it goes, I could make a group chat for the server somewhere as well - but that’s a very big if, I need to check interest first.

Second thing I wanted to check!

2. Ok, so I recently bought a certain stage play on dvd. By that, I mean I am in possession of both Tokyo Ghoul stage plays.

I intend to download them onto my computer and post them in a Google Doc or Mega, and then (with credit to me), they would be free for other people to watch and use.

My only issue is that my Japanese is not great, and tho I think most of us would certainly understand what was going on throughout the play, having subtitles would be a blessing. So, I didn’t know if anyone could help me with that? If anyone happens to speak fluent Japanese and feels up to helping me sub this, it would be appreciated! (You would get full credit ofc)

If I can’t find anyone, I’ll either struggle to try and do it myself, pop it in google translate, or I just won’t sub it and post as it is. I don’t know. But I wanted to tell y'all in advance anyway.

On another related note, I have also got the Tokyo Ghoul:Re light novel, and the anime artbook - both of which aren't released in English yet. I was able to get them both in French, which I am fairly fluent in, so I will be working on a translation for those first (note: i will be making shuu content my priority, so will be translating that first).

I know it might have been translated before? But seeing as neither are in english, and I believe I have the skills to provide a decent translation, I thought I would try anway!

My third & final thing!

3. This is about Shuu’s birthday. As we know, March will be soon upon us, and that means ‘tis the autism beast’s birthday.

Last year I did a very quick 2-3 day poll where we voted on a Build-A-Bear to give Shuu for his birthday, which I drew in the end. It was really fun, and whilst I was unable to celebrate on the actual day, I really enjoyed it.

I didn’t know whether or not to do something different this year, and thought I’d ask around here to see if anyone else had any ideas.

I’m hoping to try and make him some watercolour paintings, letters, and a personal mini zine - but those are all me, and I thought making something for the community could be fun. So i guess there’s also the option for a drawtober-style challenge (i would try and make it inclusive for writers and others too). It would have about ten prompts, and I would try and make it so that writers and other non-artists could also engage (ie with moodboards, prose, micro-playlists, etc), which I would make up and release for the month of march.

I don’t know. I just wanted to check here.

Anyway that’s all my shit lol bye.

(i have no idea when the queue will bless y’all with this post sorry)

#queue #british people love to queue #gunk #creative gunk

[deadass-pool]

january 8, 2023 - new year; new problems

soooooo,,,,, past blog entry did not AGE well... here’s the thing, i’m writing this as i am currently experiencing a pregnancy scare. NOW, now, NOWWW..... i get what you’re thinking, “yo, what the fuck?”, look i can explain. alot has happened the past 2 months that i was QUIET on here, and i did not tell my friends neither have i told YOU anything... so here’s what happend:

november: - i lost my idgaf war, i was hung up on the same guy that i was talking about from my past blog

- i was soooooo hung up and i wanted to move past this attachment that i reinstalled the same dating app where i met him. have i told yall that i’m still in contact with him the entire time? except he was so full of bullshit and i was tolerating that because,,, well... i’M DUMB!

- ENTER the guy who i knew from twitter. he is very funny and im a fan of him and we matched on the app, anyways it was a short encounter. i was intimidated by him because i felt like i didnt pass his vibe check. i wanted to be his friend because he is very funny and cool so like, i was very devastated when the last message in our conversation was me and he just liked my text. (mind you, we had a long conversation, i’m just anxious because hes very cool so i just straight up dipped out of slightly “out of vibes” reaction which is liking the message)

- friend saw me on the dating app and announced it while we were drinking, i was embarrassed so i deleted the app

- guy from twitter had a hit tweet, i replied as a joke, i thought he wouldnt recognize me anyways he dmed me and asked me why i left the app SO I WAS SURPRISED BECAUSE HE NOTICED !!! my ego skyrocketed like crazy. i forgot to let you know guy on twitter is well known, basically a micro internet niche celebrity idk

- i am now talking to 2 men at once: guy from my elementary school & guy from twitter. anyways, fast forward to whatever the fuck was going on, guy from elementary was slowly losing interest or whatever, we were still sexual but our conversation started limiting to just sex and it was starting to get tiring but im still hooked up for his attention and everything and im so so so stupid compared to guy from twitter whos very decent to talk to 

- i ended up planning to see guy from twitter AND guy from elementary. except the latter never went with his words and boy oh boy the former did

SOOOOOO...............

december:

- im still HUNG UP ON HIM HE ENDED THINGS ON MY BIRTHDAY I WAS SO FUCKING BGSHHGBSHDGBSHFBSHDF SO SO SO 1!!!!! upset and sad and yea wtf was that he never let me speak about it he just apologized and said happy birthday and IM SO FUCKING SAD AND BROKENHEAWRTED I WAS DRUNK ON MY BDAY 

- anyways still hung up on him i lost my virginity to guy from twitter and that was the biggest plot twist because out of everyone i didnt think i would be hooking up with him especially when i used to just see him have hit posts all the time on the tl (if u want tmi he is very good in bed i orgasmed lots)

- still in contact with guy from twitter hes ok we r friends hes cool hes nice i do not feel any attachment towards him idk where that attached virgin stereotype came from 

- found out guy from elementary went back to his ex before december ended and i was so annoyed and pissed because he couldve just told me instead of leaving me hanging and not letting me speak jfc 

anyways i think i left a few details here and there and now, i am typing this, days before my supposed period, it’s the 21st day of my cycle and i am INCREDIBLY ANXIOUS because i just realized i had sex BEFORE MY OVULATION and now i could not stop hitting myself with my pillow and praying to the lord BECAUSE I HAVE SO SO SO MANY PLANS AND SO MUCH DREAMS THAT I NEED TO REACH!!!!!! like it’s so embarrassing already to just lose your virginity at 23 WHAT’S MORE EMBARRASSING IS GETTING PREGNANT AT THE FIRST TIME!!!! i do not want that neither do i want to mother a child that’s goinna turn out of a mess just like i am!!! on god please for the love oF GOD GIVE ME MY PERIOD I AM SO STRESSED I CANT HANDLE THIS ANYMORE I HAVE A CAREER THAT I’VE BEEN FOCUSING ON LATELY 

ok that’s it

sincerely,

me

[larryloverinfinity]

Okay so Liam might not be homophobic in the regards to being prejudice or discriminatory towards members of the LGBTQ+ community but there is certainly something to be addressed.

I’m sure you’ve heard of the controversy surrounding his song both ways (just in case you haven’t he has completely fetishised bisexuality in women and painted a women’s sexual identification as something only for him to enjoy sexually and has therefore profited off of it) and in this regard - submitting to micro aggressions and ultimately undermining something so significant to so many people which has already, through out history, been so attacked he is standing on the oppressors side. In this case the oppressors are homophobes.

And (although this is not an attack to you and I haven’t really researched too deeply into what it is the initial conversation was about) painting Liam as someone completely innocent here and skimming over this situation in particular is dangerous and a part of the issue.

I, as a queer women, was offended and shocked at liam’s behaviour and I just ask that people with platforms and followings like you take it into account before siding with him on subjects where he hasn’t been in the clear for a long time.

1.He has clarified that he did not write the song/had a big part in it.

2. The woman who wrote it was bisexual and apologized for not realizing that the song would come off the way it did.

3. Liam has supported the LGBTQ+ community numerous times like pairing up with adidas to sell a shoe collab where all the money went to help LGBTQ+ youth, Stood up against trumps anti trans agenda and clarified on social media how everyone is built equal and should be loved, and amongst other things. I suggest you go check out blogs like @insomniziam (sorry for always tagging you darling. I need to make some masterposts I swear.) and @ziamminds, @verseziam @yaz-the-spaz who have more detailed posts.

4. Just as you admitted that you haven’t looked deeply into it— do it. Don’t run with the sheep and cancel culture who just attack. The song was bad. I agree. But it’s clear as day that Liam never had a say in his album given all of his live streams on Instagram where he barely likes to speak of it or mentions it.

5. As an Asexual poc woman, I was shocked about the song. As a future lawyer, i am well aware to the fact that NO ONE is innocent in this world. People fuck up all the time But people grow from their mistakes. Not to mention that Liam is highly speculated to be apart of the LGBTQ community and has countless friends apart of it who if even if he wasn’t queer— they most likely spoke to him about the issues. If he never apologized with the song, I wouldn’t be fan of his like I am right now. But he took accountability. Me like many others accepted the apology. If you haven’t— that’s fine but don’t act like he hasn’t addressed the issue. It would be huge problem if he still performed the song unapologetically like he never has.

6. LP1 came out in 2019. Everyone who is remotely a Liam stan— or better yet apart of the fandom don’t live under a fucking rock and know about this situation. No one has forgotten about it. Especially after the day of his album release everyone who had an internet access knew what happened on Twitter where H*rries and Kp*p stans banned together even before they knew both ways was on the album.

What really broke my heart for him was that it was bad enough the album wasn’t what he wanted to put out, but my friend abroad met Liam the day of his album release signing and commented on how sad and distraught he looked but still managed to hold a smile for when he met her and everyone else.

In conclusion,

Liam Payne is by no means a squeaky clean innocent man— but so isn’t everyone else. Accountability should always be taken place and in this situation it already has been a long time ago. Name one celebrity out there who is. If you think there is one—- yikes. Time to touch some grass.

The people who I’ve seen that hate on Liam always bring up the song as a reason to call him homophobic but always fail to bring anything else up apart from the time where he joked about not wanting bear to be left with Harry for fashion choices which was such nitpick thing every stan took out of context. Yet they fail to also recognize that Liam has always supported all of the boys— especially Harry.

No one has to like Liam, but that doesn’t give free range to shit on him just because you stan someone else.

#LIAM IS NOT HOMOPHOBIC #I would never in a million years stan someone who is #it would go against all my morals #ziam #liam and zayn #liam payne

[aperrywilliams]

New blurbs-series: 10 days to my birthday!! (Day 8)

(Not my gif)

Author Masterlist - Series Masterlist

My birthday will be in 8 days from now. So I’m going to celebrate myself with 10 Spencer Reid’s blurbs. Enjoy!

Day 10 | Day 09 | Day 08 | Day 07 | Day 06 | Day 05 | Day 04 | Day 03 | Day 02 | Day 01

Day 08: Spencer Reid hold your hand for the first time.

When you made the decision to apply at the BAU, you knew so well what you were getting into. You knew you would see horrible things and meet despicable people. Moreover, you knew you'd have to get into the minds of serial killers in order to stop them. That was basically your job. But human behavior never ceased to amaze. Even after working on Aaron Hotchner's team for over a year, it seemed like a every week you will face an even more twisted case compared to the last one.

One of the first things they told you when you were accepted to the BAU is that you shouldn't take cases personally. They told you that it’s okay to empathize, but that once the case was over, you have to move on. You tried to do that as best you could, but like your co-workers, there were times when was too hard to do that. There were cases that affected you more than others. There were unsubs who managed to settle in your mind more persistently than others.

John Rogger was an example of that kind of cases for you. He was a murderer of young women in Alabama. When the BAU was called to investigate, Rogger already had more than 15 deaths in tow and at least 3 more women kidnapped. In addition to identifying and arresting him, the purpose was to be able to save the abducted women alive. That meant that once arrested, the team had to apply several and intense interviews to obtain information, but Rogger didn’t say a word. So far, only Hotch and Rossi had conducted the questionings. According to the profile the team built, they concluded if someone of the opposite sex and young questioned him, a better result could be obtained. Given the physical resemblance and closeness of age to the victims, Hotch decided that you were the best option to do that.

So you found yourself locked in a room with one of the most despicable murderers you had ever met, trying to obtain information. Hours and hours passed, where your patience, your temperance and your profiling skills were tested. To gain his trust, you said things about yourself that you wouldn’t have told anyone. You had to 'empathize' with a serial killer. You navigated his disturbed mind revealing details that you would have preferred not to know. Every time you took a break between questioning, Spencer made a point of checking how you were feeling and if you needed anything. He knew - or at least suspected - that this case was draining what little energy you had left so far. In each new interrogation, Rogger tried to find out more about you, your family, your private life. It was as if he wanted to get into your mind in the same way that you tried to get into his. You felt vulnerable, exposed. Even knowing that the one who was handcuffed and locked up for life was him and not you, every time his eyes fell on you, you couldn't help but feel fear. Even so, you didn’t waver and continued with the interrogations until after 2 intense days, Rogger broke and you managed to obtain the kidnapped women’s location.

The team quickly mobilized to the rescue. When you were about to put on your FBI vest to go with them, Hotch stopped you.

“You won’t go with us. You'll stay here at the station until we get back,” he told you immediately as he saw how you were getting ready, fastening your weapon in the holster attached to your belt.

“But sir, I have to go. I'm the one with the most details about the location and the things that can be found there…”, you tried to convince him. But Hotch wasn’t going to back down on his decision.

“I told you (Y/L/N). You will stay here. The extraction team is now ready. You've done enough, it's not safe for you to go with us”. Clearly Hotch was trying to prevent you from collapsing on the field, already knowing that Rogger had absorbed all your energy, but you didn't see it that way, and you interpreted it as punishment for some mysterious reason that you didn't know. According to you it was unfair, you wanted to save those women as much as everyone else, why deny you that option?

Reluctantly you nodded and watched as the whole team rushed out of the police station towards the location where they expected to find the women kidnapped by Rogger. With a lump in your throat and a defeating feeling you sat on one of the benches that were in the hall of the station. You felt useless, why you had to sit and wait while everyone was doing their job? The same job you could be doing.

You were deep in thought when Spencer sat next to you. You hadn't even noticed that he hadn't gone with the team.

“Spencer... I thought you would go with...,” you trailed off in confusion. Spencer looked at you and shook his head.

“I think this time it’s better I stay here. Just like you,” he replied. You let out a frustrated sigh.

“Do you too think I would be an obstacle in the field? Like Hotch?”. You asked sadly. Spencer frowned and rushed to reply.

“I don't think that (Y/N), and I’m sure Hotch doesn’t think that either,” Reid said, staring at you and trying to read your micro expressions.

“So why did he leave me here? I don't get it...,” your trembling voice revealed that you were about to cry overwhelmed by frustration.

“Because you've already done all the work you could do (Y/N), that's why,” Spencer replied simply. You looked at him with teary eyes trying to understand what his words were referring to.

“What does that mean? Does it mean that I have to wait and do nothing?...”

“Do you think it’s nothing you participating in Rogger's arrest and spent two whole days in and out of that interrogation room, doing everything in your power to break him… and finally achieve it? I think you did enough (Y/N),” Spencer pointed out, not losing eye contact with you.

“But... what if they are not found alive? If they can´t save them?...”. Just thinking about that scenario made your stomach clench.

“It would be a bad outcome, no doubt, but sadly it’s no longer in your hands (Y/N), nor in mine. I know waiting is excruciating, but there are times when it’s inevitable. We must wait and trust the team will do the right decisions on the field. That's as teamwork works”.

Thinking of Spencer's words you could only sigh again and come to the conclusion that he was right. You put your whole heart in for hours and days to get some clue to help the case. You just wanted it not to be too late.

Your mind tried to convince itself that you should wait for news. But your body told you otherwise, you couldn't stop bouncing your leg, you sighed uneasily every two minutes, with the fingers of one of your hands you squeezed the fingers of your other hand, you rocked back and forth on the bench. Your entire body expression screamed unease and disturbance. Spencer was silent to respect your own process, but seeing you like this hurt him deeply. He just wanted you could regain some serenity and peace of mind, but he also knew that the body was capable of betraying you over and over again, ignoring your own will.

Without saying a word, one of his hands that was resting on his knee reached for yours and gave it a gentle squeeze to remove it from its task of digging your nails into your own palm. The first contact startled you a little, but you gave in to the touch and let him guide your linked hands, making it rest in the space of the bench that was between you. After squeezing it slightly, with his thumb he began to trace soft patterns over your knuckles, looking for to relax your fingers. The warmth of his hand and the softness of his touch made you give in as the minutes passed and the tension in your body managed to dissipate in part. Your breathing also returned to a fairly normal rhythm. Both in silence. But it was not an awkward silence. It was the waiting you both had to face. It was fate that was no longer in your hands. And that was the first time Spencer Reid held your hand and taught you about there are times you just had to let it go. And that there are times when you don’t have to wait and face destiny alone.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #10 days to my birthday #aperrywilliams #criminal minds #mini series #spencer reid x reader

[daddykohli]

your big hands, your big heart and your pretty mouth

I wrote this based on a problem I dealt with when buying this particular spooky shirt. this is meant to be the first in a series of halloween related fics because if there is anything I love in the world, its halloween! enjoy!

warnings: slight angst, smut, fluff, reader deals with body insecurity, cursing, semi-intense face sitting, brief mentions of alcohol/consumption

spencer x plus size fem reader

3.8k words

you’re halloween shopping online and come across the most perfect item that you’re just dying to get your hands on. when it arrives, however, it’s a major letdown. luckily, your boyfriend has a big brain and big hands that, together, provide the perfect solution. 

“Spencer, I found the one!” Spencer closed his book and looked at the laptop screen over your head. He’d been perched on your butt for the better part of an hour, his favorite seat in the house while you lay on your tummy in bed, online shopping for Halloween stuff. You both had a particularly special relationship with Halloween, you began celebrating it in late August and squeezed every last spooky drop out of it by the first of November. Your house together was decorated wall to wall in orange and black, as were your desks at work and you'd dominated the couples costumes for the last 3 years. The shirt in question was a black tank top that tied behind your neck and had skeleton hands printed on it as if they were holding your boobs. Spencer set the book aside and chuckled, a grin on his pretty face, adjusting to sprawl his legs out on either side of your body. “Where do you plan to wear that?” he questioned, reaching forward to tug on the end of your ponytail, playing with the strands. You shrug, compartmentalizing the instinctive pulse of heat you usually feel when Spencer pulls on your hair; you were on a mission. “Lunch, the bar, out in the field,” you jokingly suggest, turning to peek up at your boyfriend. He’s shaking his head and you fake a pout. “What, you don’t think Hotch would approve of my skeleton titty shirt?” Spencer sputtered and playfully pushed your face down into the mattress. “Noo...please never use the words ‘Hotch’ and ‘titty’ in the same sentence ever again,” he begged, making you both laugh uncontrollably. Spencer was smiling softly down at you, looking comfortable in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt with a physics pun you couldn’t pray to understand on it. Essentially being on call 24 hours a day kept the both of you from being in comfy clothes very often so you cherished the time you actually had to be soft and lazy. His hair looked just as soft and lazy as the rest of him, messy and curly and a little poofy from laying in bed all day. His dark circles were, perhaps, a little less prominent than usual—an actual, full weekend where you weren’t staring at dead bodies will allow you some extra r&r. Your heart clenched with how much you loved him; you’d never felt like this about anyone in your entire life and you wanted to keep him by your side forever. “What?” he asked, nose crinkling, always just a little insecure under scrutiny, even if it was the love of his life doing the scrutinizing. Overwhelmed with feeling, you shook your head dismissively, “just love you,” you replied, and turned back to the laptop and the item that caught your attention in the first place. It was cute, funny and raunchy enough to get a fun response from your coworkers when you went out the night before Halloween to the bar. You chose your size and checked out, paying for express shipping because you simply could not wait for it. - A couple days later, you pounded on the door to the study where Spencer was filling out some paperwork he elected to bring home with him rather than stay late at headquarters. “Hmm?” you heard him call, summoning you inside. You burst in the room, waving a package frantically before tearing into it. Spencer spun his chair around to give you his full attention, letting out a fond laugh at your excitement. You pulled the black fabric from the plastic and waved it triumphantly before throwing it at him to catch. Spencer let out a noise of surprised distress, the tank top hitting his chest and falling into his lap but before he could whine about you giving him a heads up, you were pulling the t-shirt you currently wore over your head to reveal that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. “Shit,” he let out, at least 2 octaves higher than normal, flushing. He had expected a fashion show when the shirt arrived but he hadn’t planned for this kind of fashion show. You did note how his eyes hungrily took in your chest and clocked his hand twitching as if he was going to reach out and touch you, but before he could, you were grabbing the tank top from his lap and slipping it over your head. Certainly you wanted his hands on your body nearly every waking minute of every day, but for right now, you were just excited about your new top. When you looked down at the tank top, however, the smile dropped from your face. The tank top fit, barely, but the skeleton hands were comically small and yet stretched across your chest in a way that made them look especially goofy. Spencer’s heart sank as he watched the micro-expressions flit across your face as you realized the shirt simply wasn’t made for your ample chest and the anger you felt toward yourself for thinking this would work, finally resting on resigned defeat. His arms raised instinctively, hands grabbing at the air, indicating that he wanted you to come to him. Your arms crossed, hugging your body, hiding it from Spencer, from yourself. Normally, you were an extremely confident plus size woman, you loved your body, your boyfriend loved your body and that’s all that mattered to you. For some reason, however, this particular item of clothing was picking at all your insecurities, making you feel sick to your stomach and hideously embarrassed. “Sweetheart,” Spencer pleaded gently, scooting forward an inch in his chair, aching to be holding you close, touching the body he adored. You shook your head, squeezing your arms tighter around yourself and picking your discarded t-shirt up off of the floor. With that, you slinked out of the room, down the hall and into the bathroom. You sighed, locking the door and changing back into your t-shirt, throwing the offending tank top into the trash can. You hugged your knees to your chest, dropping your head down, and felt tears burn in your eyes, threatening to spill over. You were so fucking angry at yourself, you didn’t know why you were letting this one little tank top dictate your self worth but you were too tired to fight it today. The knock on the door that you were expecting came then. “Baby?” Spencer called softly. He heard you sniffling and let his forehead press against the wood. “You’re breaking my heart, baby, please let me in”. Your disgust with yourself warred with your desire to be in Spencer’s arms until you finally stood, unlocking the door and opening it slowly. Spencer looked you up and down, noticing your change of clothes and tears streaked face. His hand reached out to cup your cheek, thumbing away the tears that had fallen. His mind was whirring with the effort to find a quick solution to the tank top problem. He knew the body image problem was its own, more serious conversation, but he had an IQ of 187, surely he could rectify a too-small tank top. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you sigh, leaning in to rest your tired head on your boyfriend’s chest. He was warm and solid and it was silly (Spencer would school you into next week if you confessed this to him) but you swore his aura was a gentle pink, enveloping you like a hug even when he wasn’t hugging you. You could feel Spencer shaking his head as he pet your hair with one hand and snaked the other arm around your waist to hold you close. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You bought a shirt in your size and this company didn’t have the skill or brain power to design a shirt that fit on the sizes they’re peddling. That doesn’t have anything to do with your body, it’s just poor business”. You knew he was right, logically, but you were still feeling a little residual self-doubt. Spencer seemed to sense that and pulled back to look at you. His nose twitched, thinking, and then his pretty mouth set, the way it does when he’s made a decision, lips pressed together tight. He put both hands on your waist and guided you to the bedroom. “Spence—” you protested, but it was no use. When you reached the bedroom, Spencer indicated for you to sit on the bed, roaming all over your body with his eyes, drinking you in. Spencer knew he had to handle the next few moments delicately. “Your body is exactly the size that it needs to be,” he began, looking at earnestly as he could into your eyes. “You eat when you’re hungry. You exercise enough to keep up with the demand of your job. You’re the only one on the team who makes an effort to find healthy food options when we’re out on the field. You’re strong. You can certainly lift more than these noodle arms can,” he joked, wiggling his arms like worms, successfully bringing the first smile to your face since this all began. Encouraged, he continued. “I use your butt as my own personal cushion and your chest as a pillow. I am the happiest man alive,” he laughed, but in a way that made you laugh with him. He quickly became serious again. “Your hips and waist and thighs and stomach are soft to the touch, inviting...they feel like coming home, y/n,” he confessed quietly. “You look the way you’re meant to look. Like a goddess, something to be worshipped”. You stared up at him, he’d been inching closer and closer as his speech went on. Now he stood directly in front of you, your knees pressed into his legs. “Can I show you?” he asked hesitantly, reaching out to run his thumb over your bottom lip. Your brain short circuited a little, going blank at his touch. “Show me...what?” you asked, dazed, kissing his thumb. “How much I worship you,” he answered, moving to get on his knees. Your eyes widened and you nodded, not even able to form words. Spencer’s hands reached out, long fingers spread across the tops of your thighs. You shivered at his touch, prompting a proud smirk to ghost across his pretty lips. His hands slid up slowly, stopping at the waistband of your shorts. His honey eyes met yours, asking silent permission. Against your better judgement (your bike shorts were keeping all of you ‘in place’, as it were) you nodded, mesmerized. Spencer pressed a hand to your sternum, indicating that he wanted you to lay back and you complied. You didn’t watch what he was doing, didn’t want to look at yourself but when you felt him pause, you sat up a little to meet his eyes. “Look at me,” he commanded softly, but firmly. You nodded again, it seemed he’d snatched the air right out of your lungs and with it, your ability to speak. Spencer looked into your eyes a moment longer as if making sure you were going to obey and then hooked his fingers into your waistband, pulling down your shorts. Spencer may have seem collected and in total control to you but when he saw your pink lacy panties, his genius IQ dropped approximately 240 points. His mouth opened three different times, various squeaks coming along with them before he was finally able to form a sentence. Your answering coy giggle did nothing to help his situation. “You’re telling me you were wearing these all day and we haven’t been in bed until now?” he asked as if he were mortally offended by the prospect. You rolled your eyes until you felt his hands on your waist under your big t-shirt, touching the rolls there. “Spence,” you protested, squeezing your eyes closed as if to hide from the situation. “Angel,” he replied, holding your waist firmly in his grip, long fingers spread across your body like they belonged there. Like they fit. Something clicked in your brain then and you sat up, pulling your t-shirt over your head so you could get a better look at his hands on your body. As you were having your revelatory moment, Spencer was having a religious one, suddenly confronted with you in a pair of pink lacy panties that left almost nothing to the imagination and your bare chest, nipples hard in the cool room and a confident, happy look on your face that he’d gravely missed. “You hands. They’re big,” you began, and Spencer could only nod in agreement, hungrily drinking in every inch of you displayed in front of him. “They fit my body,” you explained, nose burning a little, the way it does when you’re about to cry. Spencer nodded frantically then, your point hitting, a big smile gracing his face. “Like you were made for me,” he murmured, almost as if he hadn’t said it consciously. You grabbed his hands in yours and slid them up your waist and over your chest, his hands gripping your breasts, cupping them perfectly. You bit your bottom lip to stave off the tears that threatened to spill over. Spencer thumbed one of your nipples and pinched the other, eliciting a soft gasp that went straight to his dick. He leaned in like a man possessed, one hand moving down to rest on your tummy, fingers spanning it and mouthing your nipple, his pretty lips wrapping around it, tongue flicking out to taste your skin. “Jesus, Spence,” you giggled breathily, leaning back to allow him more access. “Soft,” he mumbled against your breast, “mine”. He moved down your body then, kissing as he went. Hands on your hips, kissing across your tummy, biting at your waist, moving lower. His hands reaching under you to cup your ass, kissing the tender, sensitive skin of your inner thighs, noting the wet spot on the crotch of your panties that made his pants significantly tighter. As he moved across your body, he whispered “soft” and “mine” as he touched and kissed each area you’d felt insecure about today, even the ones you hadn’t specifically mentioned. “Spencer, I need you to touch me,” you pleaded, thighs rubbing together, core aching with need. Spencer smirked as he met your eyes. “I am touching you,” he countered, squeezing your thighs as a demonstration. “You’ll have to be more specific”. You nodded, determined, and gripped the hair on the back of his head in your hand, pushing him down so his face met the now-soaked fabric of your panties. “That specific enough for you?” He gulped, nodding, and wasted no time, pulling off your panties to reveal what he’d been aching for since you both entered the bedroom. He could smell you, he realized with a jolt, and whimpered, breathing in your arousal. “Worship me, then,” you commanded, a little bit of teasing in your voice, prodding him to move. You both spent every moment in bed battling for control and it varied day to day who would come out (figuratively and literally) on top. Today, it looked like, it would be you. To really hammer this home, a thought popped into Spencer’s head so enticing that he had no choice but to act on it. “Get up,” he told you, moving from his spot on the floor. The confused look in your eyes pained him and he pulled you up by your arms off the bed, quickly stripping off his clothes before laying down in the same warm spot you’d just vacated. He scooted up the bed and little, propping his head up on a pillow, and when satisfied that he’d be comfortable, he crooked a finger, summoning you forward. “Sit on my face,” Spencer blurted out, half begging. You think in that moment, your brain stopped working. Maybe you died and went to heaven. “You want me to what?” you squeak, your thighs squeezing together, body betraying your words. “I want you to sit on my face,” he replied, more confident now. There was actually nothing he’d rather do in the entire world than watch you hover over him while his tongue was pressed inside of you. “Spence, I’ll crush you,” you began and stopped when you saw him shaking his head. “Statistically improbable, sex related deaths are slim to none. Plus,” he added, smirking, reaching out to grab your hand and pulling you onto the bed, “what was it you were saying earlier? Your body was made for me? I can’t quite remember the exact wording”. You rolled your eyes even as your core throbbed at the implication that you belonged to him so thoroughly that you were created to fit in his hands. “You have an eidetic memory, smart ass”. Spencer shrugged easily, pulling you further on top of him until your thighs were straddling his chest. “Really works better with the written word,” he defended, tapping out a mindless rhythm on your thighs with his fingertips. “So”. “So,” you answered, feeling stubborn despite the fact that every nerve ending in your body was screaming for you to scoot forward that extra bit and smother your boyfriend’s face with your body. “Alright,” Spencer stated, fed up with the messing around, he wanted to taste you. He gripped the backs of your thighs and dragged you up his body and over his face. You raised your hips so your center didn’t quite touch him, a lasting bit of hesitation evident in your actions. “You sure it’ll be okay?” you mumbled quietly, looking anywhere but in his eyes. “Hey,” he called out, forcing you to look at him. He has a slight smile on his face and his hands were currently gripping your ass like he would die if he let go. “I’ve never been more sure of anything”. With that, you lost your will to protest and settled down slowly on his face. The noise Spencer let out was positively lewd. He began by slowly lapping at your clit, nose and chin already wet from what had accumulated before he even touched you. From then on, he was insatiable, moving between pressing his tongue inside you to working at that one, good spot to the left of your clit that made you twitch and whimper with every touch. You lost yourself in the moment as well, pressing down into his face, rubbing against his nose and at one point, riding his tongue. Spencer was in heaven. Your soft, beautiful thighs were crushed against his face, your hand was in his hair, guiding him and you were, perhaps, wetter than you’ve ever been, soaking his face in your essence. He could feel you getting close, quickly, so he sped up the movement against your clit he was currently working with his lips and tongue. Soon, he felt you press your thighs so tight he couldn’t breathe, his brain feeling fuzzy and a noise roaring in his ears. He didn’t care, he’d die happy this way. You finished with Spencer moaning into you after a moment of confidence had you asking, “who does this pussy belong to?” He couldn’t answer with words, but his answering moan and his hand slapping your ass would suffice. You rode out your orgasm letting your full weight rest on his face until you felt a tap at your hip and pulled off quickly. Spencer was staring up at you like you were something ethereal, unreal, magic. His face was flushed, he was panting heavily, pretty mouth blurred and bright red from use and eyes glassy with wonder. “You are...an angel,” he revered, reaching up to touch you all over, every place that caused you discomfort earlier making you feel more confident than the last. You giggled prettily, out of breath and scooted down his body, wiping his chin off with your thumb. When you leaned in to kiss him, you tasted yourself and both of you moaned wildly, tongues pressed together, biting at each other’s lips. “Wanna get you off,” you mumbled, reaching back, but Spencer grunted, grabbing your hand to prevent it from touching him. “I um..,” he stuttered, blushing and ducking his head, “I already did,” he confessed, and a self satisfied grin spread across your face as you looked back to see him soft, cum painted across his abdomen. “I love you,” you blurted out, though you’d both said it a thousand times before, it felt special today, more significant after all you’d dealt with together. “I love you more,” he responded, smiling gently, rubbing your back with his hands. You shook your head in denial, but didn’t argue. The silence between you then was comfortable until Spencer jolted up, almost throwing you to the floor. “I’ve got an idea!” he shouted, displacing you gently and rushing off to the bathroom. “You should pee, by the way, it prevents UTIs” you heard him instruct you from the other room, not able to help himself from making sure you took care of yourself. He came back in the room holding the offending black tank top, causing you to frown. “Trust me,” he pleaded, turning the garment inside out, “This will work”. - You and Spencer arrived hand in hand at the bar you always went to for the team’s annual night-before-Halloween outing. You had to make your way to the back where the only booth that held all of you was located, and your team (with the exception of Hotch) hooted and hollered when they spotted the pair of you, probably already a couple drinks deep. “Look at the skeleton crew,” Morgan commented loudly, slapping Spencer on the back as you arrived at the booth. Spencer was donning a black t-shirt with skeleton ribs on the front and back while you wore the black tank top with skeleton hands cupping your breasts. You were both in black jeans, him wearing black boots and you in black heels, both with your nails painted black and little bit of eyeliner on. Even though this outing was supposed to be costume-free, the two of you couldn’t help but go a little nuts. “Where did you get a tank top like that where the hands fit your boobs?” Garcia demanded, reaching out as if she was going to touch them and making you laugh as Emily held her back. “I’ve looked everywhere and the skeleton hands are just too tiny for these,” she whined mournfully, cupping her own chest. Perhaps Garcia was more than a couple drinks deep, then. “I didn’t buy it like this,” you stated, a smirk on your face. You look up at Spencer to see him flushed, but proud. You squeezed his hand and lifted it, waving it side to side in front of your team. “We um...customized it”. It took them a moment to realize what that had meant before Garcia screeched, slapping her hand down on the table, prompting the rest of the team’s jaws to drop, JJ staring at Spencer’s hands, then your chest and back again, like she’d never seen either before. “Our boy does look a bit skeletal,” Rossi commented, prompting laughter from the group, even Spencer, despite his now flaming red cheeks. “What can I say, we’re a perfect fit”.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fic

[the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see]

ALRIGHTY BOYS im not actually that energetic i just wanted to get your attention. pride is coming up and i want to celebrate!!! my goal is to write something pride-related/queer for every day of pride, so thirty pieces. these will be fairly short, just micro fics and one shots, one for each day. unfortunately, i will not actually be active enough in june pride to do it on each day, so im going to start now and schedule them for pride. (more info under cut, check it out!)

what you can do!

send in requests! these can be pairings, a certain sexuality or gender, a random word, anything you think of. i dont have enough creativity to think of thirty original ideas please help me. EVERY SINGLE REQUEST WILL BE FULFILLED. all of them. i will use thirty of them specifically for each day of pride, but every request sent in will be answered either before or after that month.

these dont have to be fics. i have two poems im going to post on two of those days (so i only need 28 requests really). they can be poems you want me to write, a pretty essay about a certain topic, etc. im expecting fic requests to be more popular, but these would be great too!

rules!

no angst. i will not be writing angst for pride. no exceptions. pride is going to be happy and soft and fluffy and There Is Nothing You Can Do About It.

smut will be allowed, however, you have to specifically request it. if you say you want two characters sleeping naked in a bed and there are condoms in their bedside drawer, thats... exactly what you're gonna get. theyre gonna sleep. theyre gonna be naked. there will happen to be condoms in a drawer. nothing will happen. HOWEVER if you request exactly that and add '(smut)' then i will write the smut. there may be references to smut/smutty moments in my fics, but im not gonna write out the sex unless you ask specifically.

no real people. i wrote one dnp fic but im not writing any more for real people because im not comfortable with it. thanks!

those are pretty much all the rules! its gonna be pretty open and fun, and i do have a goal, but i want to enjoy this. this is my first pride being out to myself and comfortable with it. lets have some fun!

these pieces will be tagged with my usual writing tag "the tree tries to write" as well as "pride pieces" so if you want to block them because you only come to me for my stupidity or you want to check them all out at once afterwards, you can do that! i'll probably also make a masterlist in july of all of them.

you can send in specific requests like "they must be sitting by a fireplace, one reading Stepsister on a kindle and the other listening to The Script while studying science on a physical textbook and then they're gonna-" etc., etc., or it can be one word, like "gale." be as vague or as direct as you want - it's entirely up to you!

thats all the info i can think of at the moment, but i'll update this if something comes up. please send in requests, i would really appreciate it! pride will be weird this year for obvious reasons, but i refuse to let that ruin it for me, so lets enjoy ourselves!

.

edit: btw if you want to get a general gist of my writing style, check this out! no this isnt spon what it's evolved a lot since then, but if you want to see a vague idea of what it is, check it out!

.

another edit: friendly reminder that queer fics dont just mean queer in an obvious way. you can have a relationship of one girl and one boy but one or both are bi or pan or some other sexuality, or one or both are trans or enby but they use gendered pronouns, etc., etc. it doesnt have to specifically be two people of the same sex in a relationship. going off of this, it doesnt HAVE to be a relationship! they can be ace or aro or just single and not ready to mingle. it could also be someone in a relationship but the significant other isnt mentioned at all, or someone coming to terms with their orientation, or someone getting ready for pride... the possibilities are endless. dont box yourself in, there arent any limits to this!!!

#the tree speaks #gonna tag these with fandoms and pride stuff so more people will see it #only fandoms im in though because otherwise it would be cruel #dnp #dan and phil #dan howell #daniel howell #danielhowell #phil lester #amazingphil #amazing phil #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #magnus chase #magnus chase and the gods of asgard #nico di angelo #will solace #william solace #gay #queer #pride #trans #transgender #lgbt #lgbtq #solangelo #marvel

[thecrownnet]

October 3, 2020

Series four of The Crown takes on Princess Diana: exclusive pictures and interviews Charles has found a wife, Andy’s got a racy new girlfriend and Thatcher’s coming for tea... Megan Agnew gets an exclusive tour behind the scenes of the most wild and lavish series yet

Lasers. That’s what helped Emma Corrin understand Princess Diana in the latest series of The Crown. When the cameras were rolling, she imagined that lasers were pointing at her, as if she were in a spy film or a bank heist drama. It was her way of imagining hundreds of people staring right at her. Lasers helped her with the iconic Diana head tilt. She pretended she was shying away from them.

Corrin could also draw on her own trajectory as a 24-year-old actress. Before landing her part in The Crown, she was an unknown. Suddenly “there’s a huge amount of pressure”, she says.

When I visit the set at Winchester Cathedral, which is pretending to be St Paul’s, the paparazzi arrive to catch Corrin pretending to be Diana. She’s dressed in a replica of the outfit they papped at the actual royal wedding rehearsal almost 40 years ago. Every time she moves between buildings and trailers, Corrin has to be shielded with umbrellas. Life imitates art imitates life.

Almost every person Corrin has spoken to since getting the role has their own “Diana moment” — they might once have waved at her car in the street, been a pupil at a school she visited or knew someone who sat next to her at a dinner. Diana was one of the first celebrities to whom people laid claim. “Everyone has this ownership,” says Corrin. She was, and still is, the People’s Princess. But Corrin is trying not to think too much about it. Public expectation has been “overwhelming since the beginning”, she says. She wants to do Diana “proud”. “I know that’s strange and cheesy, but I feel like I know her.”

Emma Corrin as Princess Diana/ NETFLIX

The first television series of The Crown, which aired in 2016, was at the time the most expensive in history. Each series since has been estimated to have cost upwards of £50 million. The first two covered the first decade of Elizabeth II’s rule to wide acclaim, but series three — in which Her Majesty Claire Foy was succeeded by Olivia Colman — had mixed reviews. “The jewel in Netflix’s tiara has lost its shine,” said one. It was “okay”, said another.

Now, with series four’s reported £100 million budget eclipsing the Queen’s own sovereign grant last year of £82.2 million, The Crown is barrelling straight into the Eighties era of celebrity glamour and modern party politics grit. Peter Morgan, the show’s creator, is taking on two of the most controversial public figures of the past 50 years: Princess Diana and Margaret Thatcher. “The word ‘iconic’ is overused, but in the case of these two women quite justified,” Morgan says. Both have passionate fans and detractors. “Writing them was a bit of a high-wire act, but it was exhilarating.”

We meet Diana as a teenager, scampering around her huge family home in Northamptonshire. She is young and apologetic. The Prince of Wales, at that time dating her eldest sister, is rather distracted. A number of years later, Diana is leaving her relatively modest flat in Earls Court and her job as a nursery school assistant to move into Clarence House — but finds herself in solitude. Bored and lonely, 19-year-old Diana rollerskates down corridors to Duran Duran and sits all by herself in her chamber. One night, after finding out about Prince Charles’s affair with Camilla Parker Bowles, she gorges on puddings and makes herself vomit them back up.

Behind the scenes: the latest series of The Crown/ NETFLIX

*Spoilers*

It is a dark moment that Corrin wanted to get right. She listened to real-life accounts of people who had suffered from bulimia and talked with experts from the eating disorder charity Beat. Diana herself said that it was the most “discreet” way of harming herself: “Everyone in the family knew about the bulimia,” she said in recordings from the 1990s later made into a Channel 4 documentary.

“Drawing on my experience,” says Corrin, “not that I’ve experienced that kind of self-harm, but mental health in general, it can lead you down a very dark path when you’re struggling to cope, when things feel out of control. Diana very much doesn’t have the love and comfort and attention she needs from the man she loves or the family, who aren’t really acting as a family to her. There is a build-up of emotion she can’t deal with and making herself sick is a way of taking back control.”

When Josh O’Connor, who plays the Prince of Wales, first read the script for this series he thought: “Oh God, how can Charles be like that to Diana? But he feels wronged. He feels like she has an addiction to the spotlight,” he says. “I have to feel sympathy for him in that world. This is a family who have an intense inability to be emotional and he has inherited that awkwardness. In this series there’s an awful lot of Charles trying to explain himself and not being allowed to. He’s trying to say that if he can be with Camilla, then at least two of the three people can be happy. As it is, there’s three miserable people.”

The Crown works differently to other shows in that the “writers’ room” is not made up of writers but researchers, who constantly feed back to Morgan, the king of The Crown. It means that for each word eventually spoken on film, there are pages and pages of briefing notes. Annie Sulzberger, head of research, started this series by hiring a young team. “I wanted people who did not grow up believing one or the other [Diana and Thatcher],” she says. “You have to be curious enough and ignorant enough, I suppose, to write the kind of work we need.”

This series will span the Thatcher years — 1979 to 1990 — and will include the assassination of Charles’s great-uncle, Lord Mountbatten, by the IRA, Charles and Diana’s wedding, and the Falklands War. Once the team has laid out a timeline, Morgan picks out the events he wants to feature. The research team starts to hone in on each, getting increasingly “micro” in their investigations. In the making of this series, one of the team spent two weeks researching the label on a bottle of wine from which a character briefly swigs.

Dress rehearsal: Josh O’Connor and Emma Corrin act out Charles and Diana’s wedding run-through/ NETFLIX

As the show has progressed, the fact-checking work has multiplied, thanks to the tabloid journalism of the 1980s. “It’s not just about words being printed,” Sulzberger says, “but who wrote it. Diana will become very close with a journalist called Richard Kay and feed him information, and Charles’s team will do the same. So you need to start unpicking the biographies of all the writers in order to know that what you’re doing has some objectivity.”

Did the team speak to any of Diana’s family or friends? “No.” Do the producers give any material to the Palace to see beforehand? “No. We have no connection to them that would result in editorial shifts. These are real people, these are real stories and we are filling in the moments that aren’t recorded — private conversations, moments of reflection, philosophical moments.”

When I ask Morgan if it’s true that he meets high-ranking courtiers four times a year, he is keen to clear up that he doesn’t. “I have never had any discussions with anyone actively working at the Palace,” he says. “The two worlds, the royal household and The Crown, exist in a world of mutual deniability, which I’m sure is every bit as important to them as it is to us.”

Corrin, though, did speak to Patrick Jephson, Diana’s private secretary, who appears as a fictionalised character in this series. “I got a sense of her joy from him,” Corrin says. “He said she was so naturally happy. When she joined the royal family, she had come from living with flatmates in Earls Court and she was a very normal girl. Patrick said she was still full of that girlish silliness, very down to earth.”

The couple themselves at the real thing in 1981 MIKE LLOYD/SHUTTERSTOCK/REX

The executive producer Suzanne Mackie says that “particularly now” The Crown team feels a sense of responsibility “to living people, people’s children, people’s parents. Obviously what we don’t do is engage on a fact level with the royal family. We have a tacit understanding that they need distance from us and we need distance from them.”

It is a cold day in January and I am watching Charles and Diana’s wedding rehearsal in Winchester. About 75 per cent of the show is filmed on location around the world, over the course of seven months. The rest is filmed at the show’s base, Elstree Studios, just north of London.

Today in Winchester Cathedral there is a crew of 78 and a cast of almost 200. The sight is as epic as the show’s budget would suggest. Between takes, Corrin sits on the stone steps by the altar, scrolling on her iPhone with one hand and biting her fingernails on the other. Even before the clapperboard snaps shut, the resemblance between her and the princess is uncanny.

Sidonie Roberts, head buyer and assistant costume designer, has a timeline of photos of Diana covering the wall of her studio at Elstree. Roberts is devoted to the cause. She travels to Paris to buy buttons from the same shop the Queen’s dressmaker uses (it sells more than 30,000 types of button) and to Soho to rummage in basements for fabric. Last year she was in a Bangladeshi fabric shop in Brick Lane, east London, when she saw a roll of material right on the very top shelf. “It was still in its plastic, but I just knew — that’s Diana’s colour,” Roberts says. She got a ladder, climbed to the top, pulled down the fabric and bought it for £3.50 a metre. When Roberts got back to the studio at Elstree, she unrolled it and saw a stamp at the bottom: “The Lady Diana Collection, made in Japan.” Roberts did some research. It was real silk, from a collection made in the princess’s honour.

In the corner of the studio an assistant is gluing tiny pearls to Diana’s flat wedding shoes. She has been decorating them, exactly like the originals, for a day and a half. “We’ve had a long conversation about the size of those pearls,” says Roberts. David and Elizabeth Emanuel, who designed Diana’s original wedding dress, donated patterns to the show, which were used to make the new version. With its 25ft train, it took ten people to get Corrin into the dress. In the show it is seen in full, and only from behind, for no more than 15 seconds.

Paying their respects: Olivia Colman as the Queen and the rest of the royal family at the funeral of Lord Mountbatten/ NETFLIX

Corrin is masterful at inhabiting Diana’s coyness — hunching her shoulders towards her ears as she walks, the smirk, her intonation. Diana’s voice was the “polar opposite” of the royals’, says William Conacher, The Crown’s dialect coach. “She moved her jaw twice as much, so her voice was more forward, open, easier to access, and I don’t think it’s especially revelatory to suggest accessibility was her shtick,” he says. “She used a minor key that made her seem vulnerable. Despite the Queen’s and Prince Charles’s accents being ‘stiffer’ to listen to, I think it comes entirely naturally, whereas I find Diana’s voice more studied. I think she spoke to have an effect.”

What sort of research did Colman do for series four’s Queen? “Yeah, I don’t do research,” she says when we speak on the phone in the summer. “The research team on The Crown is a bit like the British Library. It’s extraordinary, and when they kick in, your computer can’t really cope with the amount of stuff they send you.” Was there something in particular that the team sent her that made things click? “No.” There is a longish silence. It seems Colman’s royal duty is waning. “They’ve got every image and film of the Queen ever made. I’ve also got three kids, so I can’t spend all my time going through all of it.”

As she wraps up a second series of The Crown — Imelda Staunton will take over for five and six — Colman knows that she would “really not like” to have the Queen’s job. “There are very few people who are forced into a job and have no choice about it,” she says. “She’s done it with dignity, for decades, bless her. It’s amazing.”

The funeral of Lord Mountbatten took place in 1979 BENTLEY ARCHIVE/POPPERFOTO/GETTY

If there were rumours of Elizabeth II being unhappy about the last series of The Crown, I can’t imagine she’ll be too chuffed about this one. Series four’s Queen is colder and more distant, and the effects of her duty on her children more obvious: Charles is heavy with melancholy, Anne feels unheard, Edward is portrayed as a spoilt bully and Andrew is dangerously arrogant.

Speaking of Andrew, there is a subtle nod towards recent events. At one point the prince discusses a young American actress he is dating. The actress had recently played a 17-year-old who must entertain several “old predators who seduce the vulnerable, helpless young Emily”. The real prince dated the actress Koo Stark in 1981, who had starred in The Awakening of Emily, which had a near-identical plot.

In series four, the pivotal relationship between the Queen and Margaret Thatcher begins well. They are respectful of one another as no-nonsense working mothers, but tensions arise — not least, over tea etiquette at Balmoral.

In preparation for her role as the Iron Lady, Gillian Anderson met Charles Moore, Thatcher’s biographer, as well as secretaries who worked with her. “The only way for me to go about sitting inside of her was to find the reason behind her actions — growing up, what she learnt from her father, how much she truly believed that she was the answer and as long as we all took the sour medicine now we’d be able to turn around this country, completely shutting her eyes to the people that she was turning out on the street.”

Anderson eventually “settled into” the body of Thatcher. “She walked very fast, always up ahead,” Anderson says. “She would power forward in front of presidents. With [Ronald] Reagan she would supposedly be alongside him, but was walking ahead. Always walking ahead of [husband] Denis, telling him to catch up.”

Thatcher’s barnet also features. In one scene she spends an asphyxiating four seconds hairspraying it in preparation for a showdown with the Queen. The hairdo took endless camera tests before Morgan was happy with it. “It essentially meant destroying it so it had an overprocessed ‘frothy’ quality,” says the hair and make-up designer Cate Hall. “To treat a wig so badly was against all of our instincts — they’re so expensive — but I’m grateful now that we went through the process with Peter, with him saying no, more, it’s not right, try again.”

Clash of the titans: Margaret Thatcher, played by Gillian Anderson, is filmed meeting the Queen, played by Olivia Colman, in a memorable scene from series four/ NETFLIX

Series five will have a whole new cast. Colman says she is “not the sort of person who keeps the shoes of a character they played 20 years ago”. But Helena Bonham Carter is going to miss Princess Margaret. “She does pop out [in everyday life],” she says. “The other day I was at some public event and there was the normal scramble of people and I just told them, ‘No, shut up.’ The finger came out, which is very her, and I said, ‘Shut up and wait. Don’t get hysterical.’ So I’ve got the bossy side of her.”

Originally Morgan said there would be two more series after this one. Then he changed his mind, describing series five as “the perfect time and place to stop”. Now there are two more again (“To do justice to the richness and complexity of the story,” he reneged). The show is creeping closer to the modern day. It is now said to be ending in the 2000s, spanning, perhaps, Charles and Diana’s divorce, the deaths of Diana, Margaret and the Queen Mother, the marriage of Charles and Camilla, and the teenage and twentysomething princes. “I want to end it close enough to present day to feel that we have completed a long journey and distant enough to feel historical,” says Morgan. “I have a specific incident in mind, but until I’ve actually written it and seen if it works, I can’t commit to discussing it.”

On set with Mackie, I mention Harry and Meghan. “Too often,” the couple posted on their Instagram page that month, “we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring.” Is it possible, I ask Mackie, for the royal family to humanise themselves while still justifying their existence as something mightier, more important, regal? “That’s where you go wrong, as a public figure, letting light in on the magic, especially as a monarch,” she replies. “You have to be an ideal. After years and years of that subjugation of self in order to put duty first, you, the essence of you, is buried somewhere. The Queen is a tiny little person inside many, many Russian dolls.”

Series four of The Crown is available on Netflix from November 15

#olivia colman #helena bonham carter #gillian anderson #the crown #the crown spoilers #tobias menzies #josh o'connor #emma corrin #princess diana #ben daniels #erin doherty #emerald fennell #charles dance #marion bailey #the crown netflix

[adenil-umano]

12 Days of Spones Day 2: Blue

[Read on AO3]

Spock stepped off the bus gingerly to avoid the grey slush coating the street. He knew that just two hundred years ago the Georgia air would still be warm from the day, but Earth’s climate change had not been kind to the southern United States. It was a frigid and dirty snow which clung to every surface. Salt crystals cracked beneath his boots as he walked. The sidewalk was near-deserted--it was, after all, nearly midnight on Christmas Eve, and Spock was in a town with a population of just six-hundred.

If Spock had any doubts over whether or not the humans here celebrated the holiday they were easily laid to rest by the sight of raggedy wreaths and dingy tinsel wrapped around the light poles. It may have been silver, once, but now it was a faded grey. Occasionally the wind plucked free a single leaf of tinsel and carried it away. Ahead of him, the fuzzy gleam of a red neon light declared the bar OPEN. 

He tugged his knit cap tighter around his ears and pushed his way in. Immediately, his senses were assailed by the scent of stale beer and the not-so-dulcet tones of canned Christmas music trickling out of the staticy speakers. Spock scanned the bar and a rumpled man with wavy brown hair and a wrinkled blue shirt caught his eye.

He slid onto the stool two seats away from the man. It was best not to seem too eager, at least not before he had found out whether this was the man he sought. He ordered a whisky, neat, because that seemed like the sort of thing one drunk in a bar like this.

Spock sat nursing his drink for a few minutes with his ears perked for any sound. Even through the wool covering them and the grating sounds of holiday music he could hear the man muttering to himself.

“Damned thing...was just a little late...Needs to get that stick removed.” He took a long swig and slammed his empty glass down. “That man will never be father to my daughter.”

While no one was looking Spock leaned over the bar and dumped out his drink into the sink. With his glass empty he slid one seat closer to the man and said, “May I buy you a drink? You appear to need one.”

The man squinted up at him, pale blue eyes hazy, his mouth pursed in a sour line. “What’s it to you?”

“We are both here suffering alone tonight,” Spock said. “Perhaps we could suffer together?”

The man grunted. He waved over the bartender and indicated Spock with his hand. “He’s buying.”

Spock ordered two whiskeys. He took a sip of his, watching the man carefully. Was this really the man he sought? “You may call me Grayson.”

“McCoy. Leonard McCoy. Friends call me Blue.”

“Blue?”

Perhaps he had allowed too much of his incredulity to become evident in his voice, because the man turned a piercing glare towards him. “You got a problem with that?”

“No, it is only…” He should have been Bones. “You are not a doctor?”

“What? What the hell?” He pushed away from the bar, standing on unsteady feet as if ready to fight. “Who the hell are you?”

“I apologize,” Spock said quickly. “It is only--I had heard of a Doctor McCoy in this town.”

He held very, very still, blinking at Spock with drunken anger. After a tense moment his shoulders slumped and he crawled back onto the barstool. “That was my father. I’m no doctor.”

“I see.” He waited until the man had calmed down to ask, “Then, may I call you Blue?”

“We ain’t friends.”

Spock nodded and went back to nursing his whiskey. He should leave now that it was clear this wasn’t who he sought, but something enticed him to say. Perhaps it was the smoky haze that permeated the room, or the waves of despair rolling off of the man beside him. They drank together in silence and Spock ordered another round. He was human enough to begin feeling the effects of the first drink, and judging by  his companion’s slump the other  man was well on his way to passing out.

“Perhaps you should have a glass of water?”

“Shut up,” he said, knocking back the rest of his whisky with nary a wince. “We ain’t friends, and you ain’t my wife, either.”

“Then perhaps you can consider me a concerned stranger.” He waved over the bartender and ordered two waters.

The man grumbled but took a gulp, crunching loudly on ice. He slid his gaze over to Spock and seemed to be looking at him for the first time. His eyes roamed unsteadily up Spock’s lanky form, paused for a moment near his neck, and then fixated on his knit hat.

“Your momma never teach you not to wear a hat indoors?”

“Indeed, she did not.”

He harrumphed. “Explains why you’re so damned impolite.”

“It is colder here than I expected.”

“Always cold this time of year. Our own personal micro-climate.” His blue eyes dropped to meet Spock’s gaze. They held there a moment, suspended, and for a moment Spock saw clarity in his gaze. Perhaps he was the  man Spock sought? Then he looked away, back to his water. “Guess you don’t have anyone to celebrate the night with.”

“I do not celebrate Christmas. But as a general point you are correct. I am alone here.”

“Figured. No one who ends up here has any other place to be.” He was slumping further into his seat. “Only people here are the folks who’ve had everything taken from them. It’s just one damned thing after another. Can’t go out the front door without someone taking your shoes.”

Spock glanced down. “Your shoes do appear to be intact.”

“Yeah, well. I had to fight for them.” He finished the last of his water and stood, listing heavily to one side. He moved to pat Spock’s shoulder and missed, making contact on the second try. “Thanks for the drink, stranger.”

Spock watched the man wobble from the bar, worry forming at the sight of him going off into the cold night. He considered his options and covertly checked his watch. He still had a few hours before he needed to check in, so Spock paid his tab and followed Blue outside.

It had started to snow light, dry flakes that squeaked when he walked. He spotted the man a block away stumbling down the street, his hair gleaming under the artificial yellow glow of the street lamps. He didn’t even have a jacket, Spock realized, and he hastened to catch up.

The man glanced at him as he came alongside. “You following me or somethin’?”

“I was concerned for your safety. You are not in possession of all your faculties at the moment.”

“When am I ever?” he grumbled. He turned away again and stumbled. Spock shot out a hand to catch him, holding fast to his arm and keeping him steady. The man squinted at him again. “You are a strange one.”

He found himself lost in Blue’s eyes, searching near-frantically for some sign, some faint hint that this could be the one he needed. “...You are also strange,” he said after far too much silence.

Blue frowned but he didn’t pull away. He leaned into Spock’s grasp. “If you’re gonna be weird at least be a gentleman and walk me home. It’s that way.”

Spock followed his point and began walking into the darkness with Blue leaning heavily against him. He could feel Blue’s lightness, all the places where he was too thin and too broken. Blue turned his head and breathed out warm air against Spock’s neck and Spock felt his skin pebble in response. He had a sense-memory, then, of carrying Leonard over some alien landscape. What planet had that been? How long ago was that? Leonard had been injured and bleeding, and Spock had felt that tight knot of fear in his side.

The house was just outside of town, ramshackle and lopsided. It had come off its foundation by nearly a foot. The porch light was burnt out but Blue led him up the front stops with relative ease, stopping in front of the door to fish his keys out of his pocket.

Spock hung back, uncertain, as Blue unlocked the door and pushed it open. He didn’t go inside right away. Instead, he reached back with one hand, groping towards Spock without looking at him.

“Grayson?”

“I am here.”

He reached out and their hands met. Blue’s shoulders slumped. “...You wanna come in for a cup of coffee?”

Spock hesitated, knowing enough about Earth culture to understand a euphemism when he heard one. “I do not wish to take advantage of you.”

“You could. If you wanted.” The man turned to face him then, his gaze matter-of-fact. “But if you don’t want to, you don’t want to. Just keep me company, stranger.”

Spock followed him inside. 

He stood in the small kitchen with its cracked tile floor and watched the man brew a pot of coffee. It was late--or rather, early now--but Spock’s body wouldn’t react to the caffeine regardless. They sat together on the couch, and Spock enjoyed the warmth of the coffee. The house was cool and drafty. It was an excuse, at least, to keep his hat on.

“Why’re you here?” the man asked after a while of silence.

“I do not know what you mean.”

“I mean, here. In this podunk little town drinking whiskey at the worst bar in available. You’re clearly not from around here.”

“No. I am from...far away from here.”

“So? Why here?”

“I was looking for something. For someone.”

He sipped his coffee. “For Doctor McCoy.”

“...Yes.”

“Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but my Dad’s been dead for years.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

He leaned his head back against the couch, his blue eyes slipping shut. “You one of his old patients?”

“No. I am...merely an admirer of Doctor McCoy’s work.”

He hummed.

They sat in silence for a while, finishing their coffees. When they were done Blue set aside his mug. He slid closer to Spock and pulled the mug from his fingers, setting it aside as well. Spock watched curiously as the man slid a little closer still, his head tipping to one side. Spock’s heart beat against his side. How long had it been?

Leonard--Blue tasted of coffee and whisky. His lips were rough and chapped, but warm. The contact ripped a terrible sound from Spock, deep and animalistic, and he grabbed Blue’s shoulders to hold him close. It was the same; it was the same. 

Blue climbed into his lap and Spock opened up beneath him. He let Blue kiss him senseless, lick into his mouth and trace his teeth. He let Blue tug his shirt up to untuck it, found himself arching into the contact of those skilled hands against his stomach. This man should have been a surgeon, in this world and every other. 

Spock felt a hand on his neck, a single finger tracing the edge of his knit cap and treading dangerously close to his ears. He pulled away and stilled Blue’s hands.

“I am sorry,” Spock said thickly.

“C’mon,” Blue murmured, his voice all southern-charm and unkept promises. “I’m not that drunk. I know what I want, and it’s you.”

Spock gulped. “I-I cannot.”

Blue sighed and slid off Spock’s lap, landing in a rumpled heap on the far end of the couch. Spock wanted him back immediately. It was selfish, he knew, to desire that warmth and that familiarity from a man who was nothing like the one he’d lost. 

“You got a place to stay?” Blue asked after right himself.

“No. I was merely passing through. I’ll be gone before morning.”

Blue didn’t seem to find that odd. He picked at the hem of his shirt, looked sideways at their empty coffee mugs. “I got a bed. I won’t try any funny business, just...These winter nights are cold.”

“Yes,” Spock breathed, falling in love again despite himself. “They are. Quite cold.”

He let Blue pull him to his feet. Followed him down the narrow hallway to the single room where an unmade bed greeted them. Blue struggled out of his shoes and Spock slipped off his boots. He followed the man under the covers, let those arms encase him. He pulled Blue close and shivered as Blue’s cold nose pressed against his neck. 

“Mm,” Blue murmured. “Knew you’d be warm…”

Spock held him tightly. “I would not want you to catch a chill.”

He chuckled, low and sweet. “How kind of you.

Blue relaxed in slow increments. He was nearly asleep when he spoke again. “That name…”

“Yes?”

“Grayson. That ain’t your real name, is it?”

“No. It is not.”

Blue hummed. “That’s okay,” he murmured. “Sometimes I feel like my name ain’t right either.”

Spock hugged him as he fell asleep, absorbing the gentle rhythm of his breathing. Around them, the Earth continued to spin, but for a few moments all Spock knew was the weight of this man against him, the pleasure of this transient closeness.

As the clock passed four a.m., Spock disentangled himself. Quietly, he slipped on his boots and made his way back into the living room. He held up his watch and fiddled with the buttons, inputting the “all clear” code. 

“Mr. Spock to Mr. Scott. Do you read me?”

“Loud and clear, Mr. Spock.” Mr. Scott’s voice was small and tinny through the watch’s speakers. 

“This is my 24-hour check in. No unusual circumstances to report. No side effects felt from travel.”

“Did you locate the anomaly?”

Spock looked back down the hallway. He’d left the door ajar and he could see just the tips of Blue’s fingers hanging over the edge of the bed. 

“I did, yes.”

“Is he our man?” Mr. Scott asked hopefully.

“No,” Spock said. “I’m afraid he is not what we’re looking for.”

“Ah, a shame. Well, I’ve got the coordinates for the next jump already calculated if you’re ready to come back.”

He wasn’t ready, probably would never be ready. But duty called. “Yes. I am prepared for transport.”

As the transporter whine took him he saw Blue’s hand shift against the bedspread searchingly, as if looking for something. Or someone. There was a faint sound, barely perceptible over the transporter beam, and he could almost trick himself into believing it was Leonard calling to him.

“Spock?”

Spock closed his eyes tightly and felt the cold melt away.

#spones #12DaysofSpones #spock #leonard mccoy #adenil writes

[shypotato-translations]

QTVW Chapter 16

Showbiz* Sexy Queen (III)

----

Aunt Wen saw Mei Mu Lan's instantly happy and smiling look and silently looked down and poked the cake in her hand.

She said in a slow tone,

“Mu Lan, do you really like that movie star called Ling Yi Yao that much? Auntie Wen used to think that you were still young and is just a momentary obsession, but now that you have graduated from university and are going into society, you should know that she and you are not from the same world.

Aunt Wen has privately investigated, this Ling Yi Yao is actually the daughter of the boss of the giant Ling family in the entertainment industry, and is also the only proper heir of the Ling family, the background of the Ling family is not clean, such a woman is too far away from you.”

When Mei Mu Lan heard this, the smile on her face dimmed and she whispered,

“I know all this, but I don't want to regret later that I didn't pursue it hard enough and just give up, at least let me give it a try, no matter if it's a good result or a bad one, at least I have no regrets.

Auntie Wen, thank you, you have been looking after me all these years, I promise you that if there is really no hope, I will let go completely.”

Mei Mu Lan said, curled her lips into a smile and murmured,

“Let me at least give it a try, I want to visit her and give showbiz a try.”

Aunt Wen slowed down the pace of poking the cake in her hand, she placed it on the coffee table, then drew out a tissue and looked down to wipe her white fingers, a few dark glints flashed in her eyes.

After she had done this slowly and methodically, she said to Mei Mu Lan in a gentle tone,

“Now that you've made your decision, Auntie Wen will definitely give you a hand. I'll call director Wang Ye later and check the time to meet him, so you can have a good talk when you meet. You can find out about the film called 《The Burial Man》online first so you can give the director a good impression.”

Mei Mu Lan smiled brightly in spring as she nodded vigorously and said,

“I'll go check out the plot and characters of the film, thank you Auntie Wen.”

She stood up and gave Aunt Wen a hug before immediately striding off towards the bedroom.

Aunt Wen stiffened in place and said helplessly,

“Why can't they behave better, both of them?”

With that, she pulled out a cigarette and slowly stammered the smoke ring, dialing the director's number.

After turning on her computer, Mei Mu Lan remembered that she had to do something, she logged on to Weibo and Twitter, and a username called "Zero One Fan" appeared.

"Zero One Fan" is an alias for Ling Yi Yao's fans, and the origin of this alias is also related to the original owner.

The original owner created the first posting forum and micro-blog for Ling Yi Yao's fans. Before Ling Yi Yao's movie was a hit and before Ling Yi Yao became a movie queen, Mei Mu Lan had already become her backbone fan, making the posting forum and micro-blog a success, attracting a large number of people who initially fell in love with Ling Yi Yao, and by the time Ling Yi Yao became famous, the posting forum and micro-blog had been officially certified and became the only authentic fan communication platform.

The original owner was the founder and senior administrator of Zero One Fans.

The original owner's daily task, apart from singing and practicing a Peking Opera passage, was to log on to the two platforms every day and post the latest information she had gathered about Ling Yi Yao on the website, or to put out a large piece of factual evidence to those who came to scold her, so that they would leave without any success.

The original owner was a calm and sensible fan most of the time. When confronted with a black fan, she will be generous enough to listen to the suggestions; but when in secret, she will put on a small vest to track down the black fan and call the black fan names that she doesn't even know.

Her username "Zero One Fan" has also become the most famous of Ling Yi Yao's fans.

Mei Mu Lan looked at the record of the original owner's speech with a black line on her face, the big username "Zero One Fan" spoke more ably. Like:

Confronting black fans – “The new era advocates people's freedom of speech, you have the right to choose to speak, we also have the right to choose to block you, I hope you will be a calm fan and become a strong backer of Ling Yi Yao.”

Confronting a scandal – “About Ling Yi Yao having dinner with other male celebrities, I think this matter is very common in daily life, don't you guys have dinner with the opposite sex? I hope everyone understands and doesn't catch wind of it.”

Confronting plastic surgery – “For those who say Ling Yi Yao is a face-lifter, you can look at photos of Ling Yi Yao when she started out and photos of her life as a child, and then go to a plastic surgery clinic to see if Ling Yi Yao's face has shown any signs of change.”

The countless small vests, similar to "Ling Yi Yao I love you", "Kneel down to Ling Yi Yao", "Lord Ling Yi Yao I want to have babies with you", etc., with more direct usernames, will have an impact on the The above questions, so back to:

Confronting black fans – “Your head is half water, half rice, and together, it's called paste; your IQ is not online, please come back after networking; it feels like talking to you is pulling down my evolutionary time history.”

Confronting a scandal – “凸(艹皿艹) , Who is this man? He's a white boy who wants to take advantage of his position. Don't stop me, I'll take a bottle of acid and destroy his face.”

Confronting plastic surgery – “When you were born, you accidentally landed face first, go blame the midwife, don't come out to get back at society!”

The original owner took the split personality and elevated it to the level of life.

The corners of Mei Mu Lan's mouth twitched as she copied and pasted all of the statements that had been made on those ponies into the relevant part of the message, and after doing so, two hours had passed.

She couldn't wait to turn off Twitter and posting and instead opened the novel 《The Burial Man》and read it word for word.

《The Burial Man》, a novel set in 1916, a time of warlords in the country.

At that time, there were intense conflicts between warlords in various regions and frequent wars in the country, and at a time when everyone was actively fighting, an aged and well-known scholar deciphered a historical tablet that had been handed down for more than 4,000 years. And a shocking message was told to the present generation by this stone tablet.

That is, 4,000 to 5,000 years ago, in the time of the gods and goddesses of the West, an elixir called "immortality" was introduced, in fact, historical mythology also tells this point, that is, the well-known story of Chang'e, who stole the elixir to run to the moon in order to preserve her beauty.

On this stone tablet, however, this event is used as a lead-in to the fact that there are still burial mourners around the Kunlun Mountains in China who have been guarding this elixir of immortality for generations, waiting for the right person to come and obtain it.

The story has a slightly mythical setting, but the word "tomb raiding" is already closely associated with various myths and ghosts, and just as the scholar is about to make the news public he is murdered, in an "impossible" type of homicide for no apparent reason in front of a public audience, with his body intact and his blood tested for poisoning. But when the forensic pathologist performed an autopsy, his brain and heart were missing.

The incident caused an uproar, but it did not get out and was kept secret by the local warlord.

They sent relevant tomb raiders to Kunlun Mountain to raid the tomb, their actions were carried out in secret but there is no impervious wall in the world, the news was soon known by many other forces and sent people to investigate this matter one after another.

And so the story unfolds.

Ling Yiyao plays the female lead, the only undertaker in the film, and the other undertaker is her brother, the two of them are considered immortal and have been guarding the place for almost a thousand years.

The decrypted monolith brought in other forces which they fought against in a fight for life and death to guard the place.

Countless people died here, but this did not stop people's quest for immortality, and the blood-stained Kunlun Mountain Road finally opened this mysterious tomb.

Those who have entered the tomb are true experts, including tomb raiders from families with a heritage of more than 3,000 years, international mercenaries with the best skills, warlords and female agents who have entered undercover….

The traps inside the tombs killed countless people, but there were also many who remained at the end, and only a dozen people arrived at the end of the tombs after the great wave.

After a fight to the death, the male lead is killed by an undercover lineage girl from a family of tomb raiders, the blood stains the throne on the tomb and opens up the fantastical inner space of the mountain, fantasy and mythology come into play one after another, ghost soldiers and demons started killing them, and after all these battles, the only ones left are the nine-year-old child from the family of tomb raiders, and the undertaker female lead.

The child, chosen by the tomb mourners as the "best choice in history", swallowed the elixir of immortality and remained in the tomb forever, becoming the latest generation of tomb mourners.

And it is only here that the mystery of the matter is unveiled, and it turns out that the so-called stone tablet and the decryption are all traps set by the female lead.

Thousands of years ago, she was also a tomb raider who, together with her brother, swallowed the elixir of immortality, but at the cost of guarding this place for eternity and never leaving it more than a metre away.

And now, after more than a thousand years, she feels tired and weary, so, as she did a thousand years ago, she recruits a large number of people to raid the tomb and choose a new successor from among them to guard this place in her place for eternity.

The story ends with the female lead, dressed in an ancient outfit, singing a song from a thousand years ago, leaping from the throne of the tomb into the endless abyss inside the mountain.

After reading this story, Mei Mu Lan felt a shock in her heart that this was indeed a well-written novel and worthy of being followed and interpreted by so many people.

The production team has invested unlimited funds to produce an absolutely profitable production that will be passed on to the next generation; Wang Ye, a national and international director; Ling Yiyao, a movie queen, and Gu Junxi, a movie star in the lead roles; an international design team to create the costumes; and even the supporting characters are chosen from stars with millions of fans.

A lavish star cast, top-notch processing and production, a mysterious story background, and a large number of fans of the books could indeed make this film the top production of the year.

Mei Mu Lan closed the novel's webpage, opened the section on roles, and then found two supporting actresses who had "accidental" problems, so she guess it wasn't really an accident.

She looked at the two characters vacated above, one was the undercover agent of the tomb raiding family who killed the male lead, pure and bright looking, simple and innocent. It didn't fit her image at all, so she passed on the role.

The other character, an undercover female agent, is explicitly the mistress of a powerful warlord, a sultry-looking Shanghai beach dancer, but is actually a high-ranking intellectual undercover agent from a family of emerging powers.

She looked at the role and recalled the characteristics of the character and felt that it did resemble her. She could not help but curl her lips and smile, thinking: good, this is the role, she will be chosen.

Aunt Wen told her at dinner about the casting call to the Yokohama outside the suburbs in three days' time. Mei Mu Lan nodded when she heard that and started to arrange the plan.

Three days later, wearing an exquisite cheongsam, Mei Mu Lan slowly stepped down from the top-class sports car.

Her figure is sublime, her features are charming, her hair is curly as was popular at the time, and her make-up has a twenties and thirties flair.

She approached the Yokohama store on her thin, bare-backed heels, swaying like a weak willow.

Just like a real 1930s singer-songwriter, she walked slowly from the cabaret of Shanghai Beach to the eyes and hearts of those present.

At the moment of her appearance, everyone on the set stopped moving, the sound faded away, and everything was fixed on this woman who had stepped out of history.

A bearded man in his early thirties approached, a roll of scripts squeezed tightly in his hands, and then said in surprise and amazement,

“You're Miss Mei Mu Lan, right? I knew you were the one I was looking for when I saw your picture! It's you, no need to look any further,”

With a broad stroke of his pen, he wrote down Mei Mu Lan's name in the character field undercover agent.

Then he blushed and said,

“My name is Wang Ye and I'm the director.”

The corners of Mei Mu Lan's mouth are smiling, her lips are slightly hooked, and her charming phoenix eyes are slightly narrowed, slender and upturned, charming and seductive.

She exhaled softly,

“Hello, Director Wang Ye.”

The voice is so soft and mushy.

After greeting Mei Mu Lan, her eyes involuntarily fell on a woman in an ancient dress with a long green dress.

The woman didn't turn her head to look over like the others did.

She sat quietly in her recliner, her white, slender fingers tracing the pages of the script slowly, with gentle, yet harsh movements. At this moment she had her head slightly hung down, revealing a perfect and delicate side face.

Mei Mu Lan could not restrain the emotions that were violently evoked in her heart, she walked up quickly and reached the woman. Seeing her slowly look up, the perfect face that she had seen countless times before, officially entered her eyes.

Mei Mu Lan's breathing stopped as she desperately tried to control herself, but her body reacted with instinct.

Her cheeks burned red like the dusk sky, her beauty was startling, and her voice trembled slightly as she said,

“Hello Ling Yi Yao, I am Mei Mu Lan.”

She paused, then suddenly said aloud,

“I ...... I want to do prop play with you!”

Mei Mu Lan: "......"

Ling Yi Yao: "......"

Director Wang Ye, who followed her: "......"

The crew silently watching: "......"

#shypotato #yuri #transmigration #world hopping #QTVW16

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

True Winchester Fashion | Adam Milligan x Reader (Oneshot?)

Prompt: Meet Cute

Fandom: Supernatural

Warnings: Mentions of gore, minor swearing, only brief fluff because Winchesters can’t catch a break

Words: 1643

A/N: This was supposed to be fluffy, why am I like this? I haven’t caught up with SPN, all I know from S15 is Adam’s brief appearance. This is another idea I had way before S15, revised to fit his current situation, of how they would bring back Adam again in my vain hope of him recurring more often.

-

The bar wasn’t exactly your thing, but your friends wanted to celebrate the end of the grueling final exams and teased you for being boring. All you wanted to do was borrow your neighbor’s netflix account and relax with a tub of ice cream. They weren’t having it and were determined to get you laid. You were determined to make sure they don’t get in trouble and drive them home.

Three shots in and your little group had already attracted unwanted attention. Three guys at the billiards table kept glancing at your group, whispering among each other while smirking and laughing. You only hoped that they’d keep their distance, but that may be wishful thinking.

“Hey, we’re going to the bathroom,” one of your friends said, “Can you watch our drinks?”

“Of course,” you said.

They swung an arm around each other’s neck and made their way towards the heavily graffitied restrooms, dodging other patrons on their way in. You sighed, wondering how many bottles they were going to drink before they called it a night. It was a pain to clean up their vomit from your backseat last time. A price to pay for being the designated driver.

From the corner of your eye, you could see those three guys putting down their pool cue sticks and making their way towards the bar area. You let out a shaky breath, glancing back at the bathroom doors for your friends.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” You turned and saw a man with a pair of familiar hazel eyes standing next to you. He smiled. “I’m Adam, by the way.”

“I know. We had a few classes together,” you said, briefly looking away to hide how flustered you were at his sudden appearance. “You borrowed my notes for Micro lab once.”

“Yeah, (Y/n), right?” You nodded. “Let me return the favor and make sure that the three little piggies over there don’t bother you.”

You sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

Adam hopped onto the stool next to you and ordered a beer. “So, got any plans for the break?”

“Not really. Mostly work. You?”

He sighed. “I was hoping to visit family, but they haven’t answered any of my calls. Must be a busy year for them with the whole… family business thing.”

“Family business? What does your family do?”

“Uh,” he paused, taking a swig of his beer.

He could still say they were hunters, but he didn’t want to go off on a tangent of what they hunt. Once, he had to deal with someone’s rant about the ethics of hunting animals and while he knew you, he didn't know you enough to know whether you’d do that. He looked down at the bottle and found an answer.

“Brewing. My family owns a brewing company. Winchester and Milligan, or W and M. It’s small, but it’s something.” He shook his head and pointed his bottle at you. “What about you?”

“I work at the library,” you said with a shrug, “Boring, I know.”

Adam shook his head. “No, not boring at all. Is it the public library?”

“Museum library, actually.”

“Even cooler!” You looked down bashfully, shaking your head at him. “It’s true!”

You and Adam chatted for almost half an hour when you realized that your friends were taking too long. You frowned, checking your phone for any messages and found none. Adam could sense your distress, but you excused yourself to go and check on them in the bathroom.

Passing two couples in a heavy makeout session, you squeezed your way to the bathroom, calling out the names of your friends. They weren’t at the sinks, so you made your way towards the stalls, looking out for their shoes. Halfway down, you found a sight that made your stomach churn. A scream was stuck in your throat as you shakily opened the stall door.

There was a high pitched noise, then it went dark.

Everyone near the bathrooms heard the scream, but no one dared to move. Adam cursed under his breath rushing over and bursted through the door. He found you collapsed on the sticky floor next to a pool of blood. He checked you for a pulse, which was faint, and if you had any injuries. Seeing that you had only fainted, he gently propped you up against the wall and stood to investigate the blood. It was one of your friends slumped over the toilet seat, neck viciously ripped open, lifeless eyes left wide open.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered. His brothers better answer their damn phones this time.

-

In true Winchester fashion, when one case is finally closed, another one opens up. They had done a full day of well earned rest when their little brother called them, sending several text messages when they didn’t answer. It wasn’t how they wanted to reunite with him, but that was just how it was going to be.

They rolled up to the bar, red and blue lighting up the parking lot. An ambulance was parked on the side with what looked to be a college student wrapped in a blanket sitting at the back being examined by medics.

Sam and Dean flashed their badges and were allowed to pass the police tape. Tucking their badges away, they spotted Adam next to the ambulance talking to one of the medics. They nodded at him, making their way towards the sheriff to get the formalities out of the way.

“According to those two kids there,” the sheriff said, gesturing to Adam and the college student before leading Sam and Dean into the bar, “Their friends had gone to the bathroom and didn’t come out for almost half an hour. One went to check on them and fainted and I don’t blame them. You might want to brace yourselves for this one, agents.”

“Trust me, in our line of work, nothing surprises us,” Dean said with a smirk.

Adam watched his brothers go before turning back to you. The medics had cleared you, saying that you were still in shock but you were okay to leave. He led you away from the ambulance, replacing the blanket with his jacket.

“Don’t worry, (Y/n), they’ve got this covered,” he assured you.

You remained silent, still trying to come to terms with what had happened to your friend and wondering what kind of monster would have done this. There was also the fact that your other friend was missing from the scene and could not be contacted. It all happened so fast, how could this have happened in less than an hour with no one noticing?

You didn’t realize how long you were just standing there, spacing out, until Adam started speaking again. “I’m going to talk to the feds over there, okay? You’ll be okay, right?”

You nodded. He gave you a once over filled with concern, fixing his jacket over your shoulders before walking towards the towering federal agents that came to investigate. You blinked, a strange thought that they would pass as brothers. The agents looked over at you and gave you a polite smile and a nod of acknowledgement, then turned their attention back to Adam.

“They’re cute. Nice touch with the jacket,” Dean teased, “Look at our little bro carrying down the family legacy of being a casanova.”

Sam huffed out a laugh. “We’ll talk about his love life later,” he said, “What do you guys think?”

“Vampire?” Adam guessed, “Is messy toilet murder their M.O.?”

Sam shook his head. “Well, they usually try to be more discreet. It’s also possible that they’ve taken the friend back to their den. Did you notice anyone going in and out of the bathroom?”

“No, I-”

“He was probably busy chatting up his cute friend over there,” Dean said. Adam glared at him, earning a playful smirk in return and a slap on the shoulder. “I’ll go ask around for any more witnesses.”

“Hey,” Sam said, snapping Adam’s attention away from their older brother, “Let’s get this over with and we’ll catch up later, okay?”

Adam nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, and, uh… (Y/n) is still in shock, so be careful with them.”

Sam suppressed a chuckle. “Dude, you realize how long we’ve been doing this gig? I know. We’ll see you later.”

You were holding Adam’s jacket tighter around you, the image of your friend in the bathroom engraved into your brain. They were just slumped over like a life size doll, the smell of iron and piss in the air, the loud rock music mixed with moans from the couples making out, it was all like a scene in a movie that you couldn’t believe you were in. There was no scream or ruckus or anything and suddenly they’re gone just like that.

One of the federal agents walked up to you, going through the usual greetings and then the questionings. You told him what you told the sheriff, doubting that it was going to be much help. Then, he started to ask questions that caught you off guard. If there were any disappearances in the last month, anyone you knew that started acting differently and particularly avoiding going outside. You answered with the best of your abilities before you were dismissed.

A coworker had heard what happened and came to pick you up, reassuring you that your car could be picked up the next morning. Before you climbed into her car, you looked around for Adam who seemed to have left already. Frowning, you put on his jacket properly before ducking in.

A shadow stood at the back of the bar, watching the car leave. The shadow remained where they were, watching the two federal agents until they left in their ‘67 Chevy Impala. They needed to report to the Alpha.

#WritersMonth2020 #adam milligan x reader #adam milligan #adam winchester #supernatural imagine #supernatural #spn imagines #spn #oneshot maybe #one day i will write reader and a character being happily together #it is still not that day yet

[spacebatisluvd]

Summary: Entrapta receives an invitation. 

Content Warning: A neurotypical writer attempting to portray an autistic character (with respect, compassion, and love, but I recognize there’s a chance I’ve fumbled here—just know it’s unintentional), Sea Hawk, Hordak’s poor sense of self-worth, cult-typical abuse, veiled references to masturbation, genital discussion, discussion of sex and sexual relationships.

-

Entrapta looked through the microscope, studying the micro-welds she’d made. Her mouth twisted a little, dissatisfied with the results. She sighed. “Emily, make a note—I need more silver solder. This prototype is a bust.” She tossed it behind her head, hearing it crack against the ground a moment later. One of the little recycling bots would be by to pick it up and take it apart soon enough, making sure nothing went to waste.

She glanced at Emily. “You know, Hordak’s really good with delicate work like this. His hands are so steady, and his welds are so...precise.” She gave a happy little shiver. “I wanted to surprise him with a working prototype, but maybe I should just give him the designs and let him build it. That’s still a surprise, right?”

Emily made a negative-sounding beep. Entrapta winced. “You’re right. Of course you’re right.” She stood, stretching. “I just need to make a working prototype—it doesn’t have to be pretty, just functional!” She used her hair to perform a tight backflip, shaking out her limbs as her feet came to rest on the ground once more. “Okay! Let’s do this—Emily, play recording.”

Emily made a happy whirring sound, the top half of her chassis spinning. Then Hordak’s recorded message began to play. Entrapta shut her eyes, listening to him describe the far-off stars that were normally too dim to see with Etheria’s many moons. She knew he’d probably assumed she would only listen to it while gazing up at those stars, but she’d found herself listening over and over again, lulled by the sound of his voice, even if she’d long since memorized his words.

She sat down and went back to work, adjusting her initial design into something more workable. When Hordak returned,  they could refine and revise her work. She just needed to provide proof of concept. S he hoped it would work. She thought it would. The data indicated that it should, but she couldn’t exactly test it. Well. Maybe if she asked Kadroh...but would he guess what it was for? She knew Hordak would prefer to keep this—

“What?” she asked, looking up when Emily insistently butted against her. “What is—?“ Then she realized her communicator had been ringing for quite some time now. “Oh! Answer call!”

Scorpia’s face appeared on-screen, accompanied by Perfuma. “Hey!” she said, waving a claw. “I was getting a little worried there. We called twice, and I didn’t want to bother you—“

“I’m not bothered at all! If I was in the middle of something dangerous, Emily wouldn’t have interrupted me.”

“...dangerous?” Perfuma asked, gripping the front on her shirt more tightly.

“Oh, good!” Scorpia said, while Perfuma frowned. “I just wanted to invite you to the flower festival.”

“Flower festival?”

Perfuma stepped forward, smiling a little. “Yes! Plumeria has an annual flower festival during the week of the summer solstice. It celebrates the transition from a time of renewal and recovery to a time of joy and growth!” Entrapta smiled while Perfuma spoke, waiting for her to finish, but she stopped abruptly. The silence lingered.

Entrapta checked the data pad.

“Hold on, I think there’s a lag. Can you repeat the last part? I missed your explanation.”

“Um.” Scorpia and Perfuma looked at each other.

Clearing her throat, Scorpia said, “It’s uh, basically a big party to celebrate summer. There’s flower crowns and food and music. Perfuma says it’s a lot of fun. I was hoping you, um, might want to come too?”

Entrapta’s hair curled and twisted. “Are a lot of people going to be there?”

“Oh, yes.” Perfuma smiled widely. “People come from all over the region for the festivities. We’re hoping all members of the Princess Alliance—“

“And their partners!” Scorpia added.

“—will be able to attend.”

“Oh.” Her hair knit itself into anxious hands, the psuedo-fingers laced together. “I don’t know....” She looked away, thinking of all the people that would be in attendance. Would it be like the Prom or another formal party? Could she skirt the edges and just observe? (Would that be weird?) On the other hand, they’d specifically called to invite her, and this wasn’t like Princess Prom—they didn’t have to include her at all. Despite her concerns about the crowd, it was hard to pass up what seemed like an obvious overture of friendship. “Can I think about it?”

Scorpia blinked. She looked at Perfuma, scratching the back of her neck. “Um. Sure. Take all the time you need! The party’s in a couple weeks, so you’ve got time.” She smiled. “Hopefully, Mermista will let Hordak take some time off, so he can come too.”

Her hair frizzed. “Hordak’s invited?”

Scorpia nodded. Perfuma looked at Scorpia, who returned her gaze, eyes wide. After a beat of silence, Perfuma said, “Y...yes. If you come, he may...join you. As your guest.”

Entrapta couldn’t help but spin in place, her hair coiling under her to lift her high. She hugged herself, humming giddily. As she dropped back down to the ground, her hair formed a  large cushion to catch her. “Really?!”

Scorpia beamed, and Perfuma exhaled slowly, though she too smiled. “Yes. Really,” Perfuma said. She looked to Scorpia, who offered her the Scorpinoid version of a thumbs up.

“Well, that changes things. I don’t think he’s ever been to something like this before. I’d really like to bring him. He hasn’t had a lot of opportunities to engage in leisure activities, and I’m trying to get him to explore and experiment with activities he might find enjoyable. This seems like an ideal opportunity.”

Perfuma looked at Scorpia again, and Scorpia slung an arm over her shoulders, shaking her gently. “Yep. This would be perfect for that, right Perfuma?”

The other princess smiled, exhaling again. “Right. It’s definitely the perfect opportunity for the former—“

“My former boss!” Scorpia interrupted, “Yep! Perfect—perfect opportunity to see if my former boss can, um, relax.” She blinked, and withdrew her claw from Perfuma’s shoulders to press it against her chin. “Actually, that’s a good question. Can he?”

“In very specific circumstances,” Entrapta said.

Perfuma looked between Scorpia and Entrapta before saying, “As long as he behaves himself.”

Entrapta cocked her head. “I don’t really know what you mean by that; Hordak is very well-mannered.”

Scorpia was already reassuring her, though. “Of course he will! I’m sure we won’t even notice he’s there.”

“Oh, you’ll probably notice him. His height makes him stand out,” Entrapta said. “If that’s going to be a problem, I’m not sure how to fix it.”

“No! Nope—Hordak’s height is not a problem,” Scorpia said very quickly, watching Perfuma. “Well, anyway, I, um, I hope to see both of you soon. Bye!” She hung up before Perfuma could say goodbye. Entrapta didn’t mind. As soon as the communicator cut out, she called Hordak.

His image resolved a moment later. “Hello, Star—“

“Entrapta!”

Hordak’s ears folded back, and he glared at the back of Sea Hawk’s head. “Hi!” she told them both, waving. “I just got a call from Scorpia—“

“Ooh. What did she say?” Sea Hawk asked.

“Well...” She rolled the word around, bouncing a little on her toes. “Plumeria’s going to have a flower festival during the solstice, and we’re both invited to come!”

Sea Hawk’s eyes widened. “You are?”

She nodded, bouncing a little more. “Mmmh-hmm. Scorpia really seems to want us to come. And Perfuma too! Well.” Her hair deflated a little. “I think she was excited? It’s hard to tell.” Perfuma always seemed so nice...until she suddenly wasn’t.

The data pad twirled as Sea Hawk ran off with it. “You have to go—both of you. It will be the perfect setting for romance . What are you you wearing? Wait, don’t tell me right now. I’ll call you later, and we can plan. Don’t worry about Hordak’s wardrobe; I’ll make sure he dresses appropriately.”

She cocked her head. “There’s a dress code? Scorpia didn’t mention that.”

“Oh, yes. A dress code—for love!”

The data pad was snatched from his hands, and Hordak’s face appeared, though he was glaring off-screen at Sea Hawk. “That is enough.” He shook his head, ears back, then he faced the data pad. “My apologies, Starlight. I believe he is being overly optimistic as well as overly involved. Reconstruction will not be complete by the solstice, and I do not believe Mermista will give me to leave to attend—with travel, I would be gone for nearly ten days, and I doubt she would approve of that.”

“What makes you say so?”

“I conquered her country and essentially destroyed Salineas.”

“You think she’s still upset about that?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

His ears twitched. “I will ask, of course.”

“Okay. I mean...” She looked away, running her fingers through her hair. “It’s all right. Maybe next year?”

“Perhaps.”

Off-screen, Sea Hawk yelled, “No! This is unacceptable! I will not stand by and allow such a travesty.”

Hordak looked at him. “You are being dramatic. This is not—“

“A travesty, I say!” The data pad jerked, then the camera lifted high—from the little she could see, Hordak was holding it overhead to keep it out of Sea Hawk’s reach. “How can you stand by and accept this? Are you not a man?”

“I am a clone, and I do not understand why my gender is important to the conversation.”

Sea Hawk made a wordless sound of mourning. “You aren’t willing to fight for your love?”

“There is nothing to fight! The treaty clearly stipulates I must prioritize the restoration of Etheria above my own personal happiness. Considering the destruction I wrought waging a completely senseless war—considering I brought Prime here, to the very doorstep of this world, I think those terms are more than fair! And considering that you yourself fought in both conflicts, I am stunned you are so determined that I break those terms.”

“It’s just ten days!” Sea Hawk said, “Besides, you haven’t taken a day off since you got here and that cannot be healthy.”

Entrapta blinked. “Hordak, is that true?”

As if abruptly remembering she was still there, he turned the data pad so she could see them again, though he was still scrupulously keeping it out of Sea Hawk’s reach. “Well. Yes. I do not require—“

“Hordak! I know you know that taking breaks is important—the Horde soldiers were allowed time off.”

His ears folded back. “Of course they were—Etherians are not very productive if they aren’t permitted unstructured free time periodically. My Force Captains insisted this was true and research seemed to prove them correct. But I am not Etherian. I do not need—“

“That’s ridiculous!” Sea Hawk said, “Everyone needs to take time off.”

“Clones do not. Even when at rest, we were put into stasis pods and our neural networks were used as relay stations for the hivemind.” He cupped a protective hand over the back of his neck, and Entrapta slammed her welding mask down, trying to keep out the thoughts of Prime and what had been done to Hordak and Kadroh and their brethren. Hordak noticed. “It was not that bad—“

“Don’t.” She exhaled slowly, voice shaking. “Don’t minimize what he did.” Through the mask, everything took on a soft teal tone. It made everything feel distant and ethereal, like she was looking at a world encased in glass. The tension in her chest eased, though the pit in her stomach lingered.

“Fine,” Hordak said, his voice soft. “The fact remains—I do not require time off to maintain productivity.”

With her mask on, she could hear her own breathing, steady and strong, and her voice echoed faintly. “Etherians do not regard time off merely as a necessity. It is considered inhumane to force someone to go without for long periods of time.”

“Yes. Because it is a necessity. I understand that—“

“You clearly don’t.”

He shut his eyes and his ears folded back. He exhaled slowly before saying, “I will ask Mermista.”

She lifted her mask a little. “...I just want you to take better care of yourself.”

“I will ask Mermista, but I don’t want you to be disappointed when she says no.”

“If she says no, then I’m coming over there. And we’ll go to the beach. And get ice cream. And maybe go swimming, if the salt water won’t damage your ports.”

His ears twitched, and his features softened. “Though I am uncertain of the swimming, I would otherwise be amenable to that.”

“Okay. Promise?”

His mouth twitched a little. “If it pleases you, then yes; I promise.”

She pushed the welding mask up the rest of the way. “Excellent. I’ll speak to you later, then. Unless there’s something else?”

“Nothing for now. Goodbye, Starlight. We will speak soon.”

Sea Hawk waved. “Bye, Entrapta! Never fear—I will use my masculine wiles to seduce my lady love, and convince her to release your...um—to release Hordak to you!” Hordak shut his eyes, and though it looked like Sea Hawk had more to say, the feed suddenly cut out.

Entrapta smiled to herself and resumed working on the prototype.

-

The next morning, a robot delivered a small package with her breakfast. Seeing that it was from Salineas, she made a high-pitched, happy sound and tore it open. Inside, she was surprised to find several sea shells, along with a note that merely said, “The shells are for Kadroh.” Among the shells, she found a data chip that was surely for her.

With a happy hum, she plucked the chip from the package and set the box aside, attaching the chip to her pad to see what he’d sent. It contained two files. One was her research notes. The other was her procedure proposal for their Intimacy Log. Seeing that, she had to get up, pacing and using her hair to flip and twist as she completed a circuit of her suite of rooms—her excitement simply couldn’t be contained, though she cautioned herself aloud, trying to minimize her expectations. After completing a third circuit, she finally felt settled enough to actually read what he’d sent. “Okay. Okay. Let’s do this!”  She shook out her hands and settled back on the bed, opening her proposal.

She smiled a little, reading his notes. She wished he was here; she would have loved to demonstrate how she would ‘reward him for good behavior’—and to test out the newly revealed sensitive spot behind his ears. In fact, she could demonstrate the former by showing him how much she appreciated his willingness to reveal the latter to her. She hummed again, reading his response to her question about biting. It wasn’t a ‘no’, and she was eager to see what he might mean by a “strong reaction”, though she would wait until he was ready for such a step, of course.

Then she saw the short paragraph he’d written at the end.

‘I do not think it would be wise to extend your study to my genitals at this time. I have limited knowledge of them myself; I’m not even sure if I am capable of penetrative sex, though I understand that is not necessarily a requirement. I know enough to be certain that my genitals differ from all standard Etherian configurations. I would not want to subject you to anything unusual or surprising without forewarning. For this reason, it would likely be best if I were to conduct some private research first, then we will discuss the possibility of mutual study.’

She leapt to her feet, using her hair to guide herself through a midair somersault. She began pacing her rooms again, punctuating her circuit with various acrobatics and occasionally humming to herself when her thoughts grew too loud.  She fumbled for her recorder, talking fast as she said, “Intimacy Log, personal notes, number 12. This is so fascinating! Hordak has revealed that his genitals are not Etherian in nature—which is unsurprising—and that he has limited knowledge of their form or function.” Something unpleasant itched at the back of her mind, but she just started to pace faster, burying those thoughts.

“I cannot begin to speculate on either. I have every reason to believe Hordak is what we would classify as a mammal—the presence of nipples implies his species at one time nursed their young, and he is quite warm, suggesting he does not have to rely on external heat sources to maintain his body temperature—but he is still an alien. These mammalian traits may be evidence of convergent evolution, rather than a common ancestor, though I still believe the bipedal body type suggests that our species are not entirely unrelated. Nonetheless, none of that necessarily implies so-called ‘sexual compatibility’. Hordak already seems to know that penetrative sex is not a necessity for a sexual relationship, but I will also endeavor to reassure him that our genitals do not need to be ‘compatible’ for sex to be satisfying. I should also relay that I am not put off by his confession. If anything, I am excited by the opportunity for discovery!”

She performed another somersault, shaking out her hands as she landed. “This is so exciting!” she hissed under her breath. To the recorder, she added, “He’s said that he would like to experiment on his own so as to avoid surprising me, but I would be very interested in experimenting with him. Query—has Hordak decided to experiment solo primarily out of concern for my comfort or his own? If the former, then he may allow me to at least witness any experiments he performs on himself—though I would welcome a more hands on approach, if he is willing to wait. However, if he is uncomfortable including me because...”

The unpleasant thoughts managed to break through, and she pulled her mask down securely. “While it is possible Hordak wants to experiment on his own in order to sate his curiosity in private—which would be completely understandable—I believe it is more likely that he’s uncomfortable sharing this with me due to shame and prior conditioning from Horde Prime, a suspicion reinforced by his lack of education regarding his own body’s sexual organs.” She flexed her hands, hair coiling around her limbs. “If that is the case, then I am unsure how to proceed. Hordak’s health, safety, and comfort are of primary importance, and I’m worried I’m not well equipped to make sure he isn’t harmed by our experiments. I’ve...never been good with people.” 

She shut off the recorder and cycled through her mask’s filters, trying to find a more soothing way of looking at the world. She settled on infrared, gazing at the smear of colors meant to represent variations in temperature. It was comfortably alien, and pleasing to place her hands on the metal wall and watch the colors change—like painting with her own body heat. She traced patterns on the wall and watched them fade as the transferred heat dissipated.

She took a breath and raised her mask when she felt settled enough to proceed, blinking as she readjusted to her surroundings. Clicking the recorder on, she said, “Hordak has consistently proven himself to be unlike anyone I’ve ever known. He seems to understand and respect my need for clear communication. Thus far, we have been able to prevent the kinds of misunderstandings I’ve had in the past simply by talking to each other. I have to assume I can keep him from coming to harm in the same fashion. When we next speak, I will—“  Her data pad signaled an incoming call. “Oh!” She clicked the recorder off, assuming that was him. “Hi, Hordak—wait. Sea Hawk?”

“Greetings, Princess!”

“Hi! Do you need something?”

“No. Not...not exactly.”

“Are you sure? People don’t usually call me unless they need something.”

“I don’t need anything, I just.” He winced. “I...may have...possibly...slightly overestimated my ability to convince my beloved to allow Hordak time off. And...vastly underestimated her vindictiveness.” His gaze grew watery and distant. “She is as magnificent and unforgiving as the sea.”

“Oh. Well, that’s okay. At least you tried. I’ll just—“

Sea Hawk held up a hand, shushing her. “Entrapta. Are you in a secure location?”

She glanced around her bedroom. “I suppose so.”

“Good, good. Now, tell me...how far are you willing to go to prove your devotion?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Do you want to take Hordak to Plumeria?”

“Well, yes—“

“How far are you willing to go to get him there?”

“What?”

He moaned, as if in pain. Before she could ask if he was okay, he leaned close to the camera and said, “Listen to me. I have a plan to get both you and Hordak safely and happily to Plumeria. But it may possibly be slightly illegal.” Entrapta cocked her head. “And by ‘slightly’, I mean ‘extremely’. So, how far are you willing to go to prove your affections?”

She snorted. “Sea Hawk, don’t be ridiculous; at least three of my current experiments are technically illegal. Breaking a few laws won’t prove anything. With that said—what’s your plan?”

“Well—wait. Technically illegal?”

She gestured dismissively. “Mystacor isn’t really equipped to oversee scientific studies, but my experiments are technically overseen by their ethics committee. Which is guided by a woefully outdated moral system and staffed by technophobes. I stopped asking them to approve my more interesting studies ages ago.”

“Oh. Well. I’m going to assume that’s not at all nefarious—“

“I guess that would depend on your definition.”

“—and tell you my incredible, masterful plan! First—do you by any chance own any strappy high heels? A low cut dress, perhaps? Preferably in black.”

“What?”

“Never mind! We can continue without, but I feel that ignoring the aesthetic shows a lack of commitment.”

She stared at him. “What?”

-

A/N: As always, I’m extremely grateful for all the comments you guys leave. I read them all, often multiple times. I’m not good about replying, but I am always intensely grateful.Thank you so much. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. ^//^

#entrapta #hordak #entrapdak #sea hawk #scorpia #perfuma #intimacy log

[pass-covid-test]

COVID-19 IS A TEST

And we’re failing it.

This will sound crazy. But didn’t all game-changing ideas start as crazy? For example, instead of the then mainstream idea that everything revolves around the Earth, the crazy Galileo Galilei argued the Earth revolves around the sun.

Why should you read this?

The Covid-19 virus is man-made. The creator wanted to “break the bad” in humanity:

valuing fancy travels over the mundane stuff such as the taste of home-cooked meals

valuing money over oxygen health

valuing work over our families

being connected all the time, leaving us with no chance to reflect and talk to ourselves

A bit like Thanos, the creator of the virus believes that destruction is needed to build something great. And he’s not afraid to destroy all the way.

What can happen if you ignore this?

Worst: Studies reveal that aside from physical symptoms, hallucinations and other brain-related complications have been noted in a number of patients. No one exactly knows how long it will take before the next variant appears. But what if it mutates up to the letter Z? And that variant will be the Zombie variant? Yes. I know it sounds crazy. But should we really take our chances?

Worse: Covid-19 will be a thing of the past for wealthy countries but a continuous problem for poor countries.

Bad: Covid-19 will end later rather than sooner.

How exactly do we end Covid-19?

Equity.

At the macro-level, we need to cum come together and compel our governments to disclose why and where vaccine supplies go. Our governments should function as one so that vaccine distribution is risk-based, not wealth-based.

At the micro-level, we need to make the world stop for 14 days: complete lockdown and isolation for each person on Earth. Governments and private citizens should ensure that everyone will have access to basic necessities such as food during those 14 days.

I need your suggestions on how we can improve numbers one and two, and if there’s anything we should add.

Who should end Covid-19?

All humans. As mentioned, Covid-19 is a test for humanity so it follows that all of us has a role to play. For those without access to internet, it is our role to provide them access. Remember, what we need is equity.

Please consider doing one or more of the following:

Reblog this post with your thoughts and/or Covid-19 stories and/or realizations

Tag one or more of your loved ones

Email me at [email protected] for suggestions on how we can end Covid-19

When will the above happen?

For the first one, It would depend on when this blog post will become viral. Please know that I have taken steps to make myself completely anonymous. For experts out there, kindly email me if you see some tracks I’ve left behind.

For the second one, I’m thinking two weeks before January 1, 2023. This might be the best period to implement the worldwide lockdown since humans have diverse religions but all celebrate new year’s day. Prior to the two-week lockdown, everyone should play his or her part If you think something sooner is feasible, please let me know at [email protected].

Where can we end Covid-19?

Anywhere. We can beat Covid-19 together while we’re apart (cheesy, I know).

Other Questions

Your plan sounds good. But won’t there be a conflict of interest?

I won’t be monetizing anything. As mentioned, I’m also completely anonymous. I will also not take sides in politics. These measures are essential for this plan to be successful. If there’s someone who’s more neutral than myself, and can cover his tracks online, please message me on [email protected]

Are you not afraid your attempt would be futile?

If it were just me, I’ll be afraid. But I know I can count on humanity to pass this test. I’m very open to suggestions on how we can beat this virus.

Why use Tumblr to make your message go viral?

Different social media platforms have different use cases. Personally, Tumblr has been the platform where I can pour my heart out. This does not mean, however, that the fight should remain on Tumblr. I hope this becomes viral in other social media sites such as Facebook, Instagram, Reddit, Tiktok, Twitter too.

What other kind of help do you need?

I need everyone’s genius for this to work. The reason I added some humor into my blog post is because I want this to be relatable as possible. But my blog post is not relatable by everyone. We need writers, marketing pips, copywriters, visual artists, vloggers, meme creators, meme consumers, bots to spread the message! And again, I need IT experts to check if I’ve left tracks online.

What were your inspirations in making this blog post?

The Breaking Bad TV series. I’m still in season 1 though. No spoilers please! So yeah. This is my thought process. Hope it made sense.

#covid #covid19 #covid 19 #pandemic #vaccine #vaccination #equity #inequity #health

[coolmusicstuff]

i would leave me if i could

I do not know what shocks me more: her bald hairstyle or her ability to create awesome music. Either way, this Grammy-nominated pop singer has been a recent obsession of mine as she shed light into my life with her God-blessed album. Ashley Frangipane, or more commonly known as Halsey has been an artists I have been looking into recently, and the more I learn, the more I expect.

Halsey is originally from Edison, New Jersey (WOOO) but she traveled a long way from her hometown in order to start her music career. Born to middle-class blue collar parents, Halsey felt stuck most of her adolescent life in an endless expectation to follow a normal route to survival like her parents. Throughout her childhood, Frangipane's family moved frequently, as her parents worked many jobs. 

By the time she reached her teen years, she had enrolled in six schools. In high school, she endured bullying by other students, and at 17 she attempted suicide, which led to a 17-day hospitalization. Following this, she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Before she knew it, she started using recreational drugs, moved in with her “degenerate stoner” friends on Halsey Street in New York, and began to write music. The rest was history. Just kidding.

Life was tough for Halsey as she even considered prostitution at one time when stated “I remember one time I had $9 in my bank account, and bought a four-pack of Red Bull and used it to stay up overnight over the course of two or three days, because it was less dangerous to not sleep than it was to sleep somewhere random and maybe get raped or kidnapped." She described music as a “confessional therapy” in which she used her music to get her through the difficult times during her life.

The release of her first studio album, Badlands,  was a metaphor of her mental state when she was only 19 years old. Every song meant something different for her and the cultivation of that album sculpted Halsey’s image for the first time in modern media.  

Halsey’s big breakthrough into mainstream pop music was definitely her collaboration with the Chainsmokers on Closer. Although I’m not the biggest fan of this song in particular, I think this song finally gave Halsey the power to do whatever hell she wanted with her music because people finally took her for what she is: brilliant. Here are 3 of my favorite highlights of her career so far:

1. Of course we can’t leave out her mega-hit, “Without Me”, which took an interesting take on some of Halsey’s more public relationships, but I honestly love her boss vibes in the song in which she candidly talks about the complexity of mixing fame, love, and power within relationships. She basically says “I’m the reason you are big now, but it’s my own fault for loving you”. Check out her MV below: 

2. Her collaborations 

When released with BTS on the iconic single, Boy With Luv, which was a huge dream success for both BTS fans and Halsey fans (even better for a fan of both like me). She is well known to be an awesome friend of the band and is known to be one of the few American artists to take BTS for they are: musicians. Another personal favorite of mine is the song, Eastside ft Khalid and Halsey, produced by Benny Blanco. The song is just what Halsey fans needed when it comes to her collaborations: perfection. 

3. Manic

I’ve been waiting to rant about this album. But I’ll keep it short. This album is inspired by the struggles Halsey faced with being diagnosed with bipolar disorder. She makes TONS of social commentary in her songs but my favorite has to be the stuff she says about heteronormative hostility. All 16 tracks are super different from one another but they all connect to created Halsey’s identity from the moment she realized she was different. She described herself as an “unconventional child” and I think that describes this album the best in all its parts. Unconventional. It’s unconventional for people to think that someone like Halsey struggles with the things she does. 

The album explores more contemporary, and rock-ish vibes with some killer collaborations as well. Some of my personal favorites are killing boys, Graveyard, and I’m Not Mad. Pitchfork explains “For Halsey, autobiography offers opportunity; her ability to translate the arc of her life—schoolyard misfit turned aspiring bohème turned Tumblr micro-celebrity turned misunderstood pop star—is among the qualities upon which she has established her career. She does well in framing some of those personal experiences as concepts..’ Check out the full review here! Also, check my favorite live performance of Graveyard:

Overall, Halsey holds a special place in my heart because she reminds me that things are bigger than ourselves. I see her more of an artist than a musician at times due to the amount of work she puts into crafting not only her sound, but the visual design as well. Halsey has a way of making her live performances speak more than the songs themselves at times. I think that is the beauty of her music: it has dimensions. I can only expect more from her moving forward because she keeps adding more every single time. Being bipolar, dirt poor, and alone actually fueled one the greatest female artists of my times. I’m so lucky to be alive during the era of Halsey. God bless.

***ALSO CHECK OUT HER NEW BOOK RELEASED THIS WEEK CALLED: I Would Leave Me If I Could

#halsey #i would leave me if i could #pop music #without me #new jersey #artist #manic album

[microcos-pod]

Micro-Cosmos S1E4: Looking Up Transcript

(The crew celebrates an afternoon of well-deserved downtime. Transcript begins below break.)

[sfx: forest ambiance, running footsteps]

FELIX BIIIIIIRD!

That... is nineteen! Almost... at... victory.

[sfx: running footsteps]

MILES That... was not... fair... you tripped me!

FELIX Did... not.

MILES Did too!

FELIX Did not!

MILES Totally did.

FELIX The point is mine, fair and square. You did not set eyes upon that bird, first, thus-

MILES Because you cheated!

FELIX What would you have me do, forfeit the point?

MILES Yes.

FELIX Well I'm not going to do that.

MILES I know. Ya lousy-

[sfx: a bird caws]

MILES BIRD!

FELIX Bird? Ah yes, Bird. Ah, damn. Bird.

MILES Haha, that's a nineteen-nineteen tie, next points the winner.

FELIX Yes. And that point belongs to me.

MILES Yeah, right. Tell you what, then. Let's have a wager. I'll even let you pick the terms.

FELIX Okay. The loser has to carry Athena's birthday present around in their bag for a week.

MILES Athena doesn't want to carry it?

FELIX No one wants to carry it, my friend.

MILES Fine! That's fine! It's not like I worked super hard on it or anything-

FELIX

Shh. I'm sensing... an avian presence.

[sfx: birdsong, running footsteps taking off]

FELIX ALLONS-Y!

[sfx: running footsteps taking off]

MILES WAIT UP!

FELIX Where... are... you...

[sfx: a whack]

[Felix yelps.]

MILES Ha! You-

[sfx: a similar whack]

MILES (CONT'D) AA! MY EYE!

***

[THEME MUSIC FADES IN]

ANNOUNCERFuturistic Trail Mix Productions presents Micro-Cosmos: A Science Fiction Podcast.

[THEME MUSIC FADES OUT]

***

[sfx: forest ambiance, running water, a click]

MILES Oww.

ATHENA This is-

MILES Owww.

ATHENA This is-

MILE OWWW!

ALEX Dude, just hold still. You took quite the fall out there.

ATHENA Athena Romero... recording. Hi. It's Day 28, and we're stationed at approximate position North 57 degrees West 105 degrees, still enroute to our equipment dropoff point and making good time at that. We've had to stop for a little, uh, first aid. Miles and Felix got hit in the face with a tree branch playing their new game. It's called Bird... I hate it.

FELIX Hey, Bird is- ow - Bird is fun!

ALEX Until the forest pokes your eye out along the way, Doc.

FELIX I'd call it an occupational hazard.

ATHENA Thankfully, Headquarters, no one actually lost an eye. By some miracle.

[C41′s BOOT-UP JINGLE PLAYS]

C41 Oh, the odds of them losing an eye aren't as high as you'd hope. I ran the calculations.

MILES Yeah? Let me check your math on that one.

C41 No.

ATHENA Anyways. We thought it'd be a good time to take a walking break. Maybe have some lunch.

[sfx: rummaging]

ALEX Aw, shoot. Looks like we're lacking in antibiotics to get this one on your knee cleaned up, Miles. Cal, any chance we're getting more of that with the shipment?

C41 I do have "additional first aid supplies" on the roster, Commander. So... probably!

ALEX I will take a "probably" for all that it's worth as far as HQ is concerned, kid. And hey, we're almost to the drop-off point. Speaking of which, Starshine, did you get the memo to them that we're ahead of schedule?

ATHENA Oh, uh, oh! Yeah, I did get the relay to them last night, and they came back with an acknowledgement. I think we're just going to have to wait it out though.

ALEX Aces. Cal, how much longer do we have on the walking?

C41 Eh, not much! About another...

[sfx: mechanical whirring]

C41 (CONT'D) Hour!

MILES An hour?

ALEX Hey, I like the sound of that.

FELIX Just think. All of that extra time to play Bird.

ATHENA And, sorry to ask, but, Bird is fun... because?

ALEX Because I think all this walking has made the doctor go a bit batty.

FELIX Perhaps. More like... bird-y. If you will.

[Miles groans.]

MILES You set him up for that one, you know- Ow!

ALEX Just a sanitising wipe. I know, I know, it stings. It's the best we're gonna do to keep it clean for now.

[C41 giggles.]

MILES What are you laughing at?

C41 Aw, nothing. Just like... you guys are so funny, with your 'physical pain' thing.

MILES Hilarious.

C41 Precisely my point.

MILES Well, somebody's chipper today.

C41 I am! It's almost time for me to get to like, actual work. As soon as we can set up camp at the rendezvous to make it our base? Watch me go, baby.

ALEX Wait a minute. You, Cal, are excited about doing work?

C41 Sure I am! I'm excited for work that's not super boring and lame and leaves me wanting to tie up my code in particularly pretty bows. Establishing our infrastructure, our inventory, our food sources, and oh, ooh! Getting started on actual research? They sour.I hope I just don't lose out on sleep.

MILES Yeah, sure. We wouldn't want that.

C41 And, and, Miles, while I'm busy doing important things, you can be off doing... whatever little tasks you're supposed to do.

MILES First of all, excuse you, I'm the engineering specialist too, not your friggin nanny, so like, I'm going to have plenty to do that is very important. And second of all, maybe I'll get to sleep instead of clacking away at fixing your code all night like a monkey at a typewriter, alright?

C41 Sure, sure. Now, are everyone's booboos in order? I'm sure Athena and Alex are getting antsy.

ATHENA Oh guys, no, it's fine. Take your time, we're not in a rush.

MILES No, you know what, my booboos- I mean my uh, my scrapes and stuff, are fantastic. Let's go.

FELIX But... I'm so weak.

MILES Nope. Up ya go.

C41 Something to prove, much?

ALEX You'll be fine Felix. Have some trail mix, and we'll be motoring, alright?

FELIX (chewing) Way ahead of you, sir.

ATHENA Alright. Off we go.

[sfx: a click]

***

[sfx: forest ambiance, a click]

ATHENA Recording from the drop-off point, at long last, this is Officer Athena Romero with Omnitarian Establishment Crew #0137-F. It's only been just over an hour since my last log, but we're here. We're here, and now we just have to camp out, and wait for the rest of our supplies. It'll be some downtime well-earned, I think.

ALEX I'd say so.

[sfx: walking footsteps, stopping, setting a bag down]

ATHENA Oh, hey Alex! Let me guess, the others are-

ALEX Competitive birdwatching? Yeah. I don't even think that they realise that that's what they've invented.

ATHENA Aw, jeez, even Cal? Or did you put them on babysitting duty?

ALEX Cal is... keeping score, apparently. Look, you didn't hear it from me, but sometimes I think that they miss Miles when I'm carrying their projector.

ATHENA Really?

ALEX Nah. They're babysitting.

[Athena laughs.]

ATHENA Well played, Commander.

ALEX Peace and quiet is probably one of the best sounds in the world. Second only to good conversation and blaring rock 'n' roll.

ATHENA Sounds like something I should write down.

[Alex laughs.]

ALEX Dude, no, I'm just rambling. And besides, you're recording this, aren't you?

ATHENA Yeah. I mean, I can turn it off, if you want.

ALEX It's fine with me. Kinda nice actually, to think we'll be able to look back on whatever it is we talked about on this mission when we're all old.

ATHENA I never thought about it like that. Guess I thought I was just doing my job.

ALEX Really?

ATHENA ... Yeah, why?

ALEX I don't know, I hear you every once in a while, when you're recording, and... you know how to talk. You a poet in your spare time, by chance?

[Athena laughs.]

ATHENA No, no, I'm... I don't know, I'm not anything in particular. I was corp security, for a while, and then I got into communications and chronicling protocol through that, and... yeah, that's me, if they didn't already tell you as part of the whole 'Commander' thing.beatI'm certainly not, uh, 'recogalex', though.

ALEX Okay, so you uh... know about that whole thing?

ATHENA 'Whole thing'? You mean when you were like... one of the biggest names in sporting sim gaming for years, plural? Yeah, I figured it out. Me and the others in the forces, we didn't really have anything else to keep up with, so we got very much into keeping up with those tournaments.

ALEX Alright, alright. Just thought I'd be able to keep my nerdiness a secret from my crew for a little while longer.

ATHENA Why bother? I mean, if I was as good as you at that stuff, I...realizing as she says itI never would've stopped.

ALEX I guess I just... the same as you. I thought of it as my job, after a while. It started as a way to help me cope with my anxiety, and then, I guess it turned out that I was good at it, and liked it. I liked it a lot.

But I got married, and then we were gonna have a kid, and-

ATHENA Wait, you're married?

ALEX I was. Me and Gabriel split up, a little while after our son, Orion, was born.

ATHENA Oh... that's too bad.

ALEX Oh, it's fine, really. Gabe's amazing, honestly, we both just... wanted different things out of life. It just wasn't working for us to be married anymore. Now we're friends. We're friends that used to be married, and friends that have a son that we love more than anything in the world. And I can't say I mind it, as long as I know they're both waiting for me back home.

ATHENA Wow. I mean, that sounds... that sounds like all you could hope for.

ALEX Yeah... yeah, I guess it is.

***

[sfx: forest ambiance]

MILES This is stupid. We haven't seen anything fly overhead since we got here.

FELIX Hey, hello, uh, you know the decree of the Game of Bird.

[C41′s BOOT UP JINGLE PLAYS]

C41 "They who question the sanctity of Bird will be disqualified from all future matches of Bird on the basis of disloyalty and heathendom," Miles.

FELIX And don't you forget it.

MILES I know, I know, for the millionth time, I know.

C41 Then don't go getting yourself disqualified.

MILES Hold on, was that... an encouragement?

C41 Of course not. I just like to see a good match-

MILES Okay, cause for a second there, it sorta sounded like a-

[sfx: bird caws]

FELIX BIRD! 

[sfx: a bell dinging cue]

C41 That's one point to the distinguished Couvillion gentleman.

MILES Please tell me you're not going to do that every time someone gets a point.

C41 Don't be silly! I'm not going to do it for you!

MILES Why do I even bother? It's not like-

C41 Shh. Eyes on the prize, er, sky. Whatever. Bird now, talk later.

MILES Fine.There's a long silence. 

[sfx: forest ambiance for a prolonged period]

[The three of them sigh at varying points.]

[sfx: bird song, a glitch, static]

FELIX Bir- rd?

MILES What are you talking about, there's nothing there!

C41 I mean, I'll still give you the point.

FELIX Sorry, sorry, I... eyes were playing a trick on me there.

[sfx: prolonged forest ambiance]

MILES Sooo... uh, this is getting boring fast.

C41 "They who question the sanctity of Bird-"

MILES Not what I meant! I just meant...

FELIX There does seem to be a disturbing lack of birds.

MILES Well... uh... we could play 'I Spy'.

FELIX No, no. We can't allow the shine to wear off that quickly.

[sfx: retrieving from a bag, clicks]

MILES I feel like binoculars are cheating.

FELIX Eh. Using available resources.

C41 Does it count as cheating if there aren't any birds to see?

MILES Okay, but if there were.

C41 But there aren't.

MILES Okay, but if one shows, he can like-

FELIX And it may not end up being worth the hypothetical, if our luck continues.

MILES Just making conversation.

[sfx: prolonged ambiance]

MILES So... how about this weather?

C41 Really?

MILES What? It's called small talk, ever heard of it?

C41 Sure I have. My sources tell me that it's nothing remarkable. In fact, that seems to be the whole point of it, yes?

MILES Well, I guess... not everything needs to seem 'remarkable' to be... worthwhile.

C41 Sure. Take yourself for example.

MILES You know what-

FELIX You know, I believe that might be a backhanded compliment, Officer Abbott.

C41 How dare you.

FELIX Meant nothing by it, my voltaic friend.

C41 Then you know what's good for you.

[Felix chuckles.]

MILES Yeah, right, tough guy.

C41 I'm sure I don't know what you mean. I can be intimidating, that is, when I'm not asleep in my-

FELIX Nest!

C41 What?

FELIX Nest. Up there, on your left, riiiight- There.The group's eyes land on a large nest in a nearby tree.

MILES You think there's any in there?

FELIX According to what I've learned, the season would be right for quite a few baby birds.

So, I mean, if there were... to be... lots of baby birds... I should probably get a closer look. For... research.

MILES And I could help with your research. I mean... I could help you count.

FELIX Oh, no, I mean that's uh...

It'll be quite the climb to get there, so I wouldn't ask you to-

MILES Pssh. What are friends for? You said earlier you weren't feeling so good, anyways, so like... I can go check on those birds. For science.

FELIX Oh, no, I feel fine, thank you. I think a climb might actually do me some-

MILES Here, you hold Cally. I'm climbing.

FELIX Good.

C41 Wait, what? Also, it's Cal.

MILES I'm gonna go see those birds.

[sfx: footsteps running off]

FELIX HEY! NOT FAIR.

You stay right here, Cal. I've got a tree to climb.

[sfx: footsteps running off]

C41 Well, it's not like I'm going anywhere- Wait, wait! Doctor Couvillion? Officer Abbott?! Felix? Miles? Oh, the Commander is going to be so mad at you!beat, meek...Guys?

[C41′s BOOT-DOWN JINGLE PLAYS]

***

[Alex and Athena laugh.]

ALEX No, no, you're kidding me. Stuck?

ATHENA Completely! Okay, okay, so you have to understand, Patroclus C? It's a freezing cold rock. A moon.

ALEX Nothing homey about it?

ATHENA No! No redeeming qualities! We used to call it the Snowball. So, so, so: there I am, and my sister is just screaming bloody murder with her tongue stuck to the side of the transport.

ALEX And did someone lose a tongue that day?

ATHENA Somehow, no! I had to run back to the house for hot water and leave her there, and I swear her tears were frozen to her cheeks by the time I got back and we managed to get her off the thing! God, it was awful. So the chilly mornings around here? They're nice.

ALEX And you've got the charming anecdotes to prove it, starshine.

Oh, is... is that okay? If I call you that? It's just... it came to me, and I thought it suited you. But if you don't like it-

ATHENA Oh! Oh, no, I... it's fine. I like it. It's sweet.

ALEX Okay. Okay, good.

I just figured, you know, it might... we're gonna be out here for a long time. I want to be friends with you guys, with... you. If that's what you... all want too.

ATHENA I think I'd like that, Alex. 

Can I ask you something?

ALEX Sure, if I can ask you something after.

ATHENA Oh?

ALEX Yeah, no, I had like... a question or whatever for you too, but you totally, uh, you go first.

ATHENA Okay. Sure. So, uh... here's the thing. How do you... how do you know how to find the course?

ALEX ... What?

ATHENA How do you know where we're going?

ALEX I thought you were military. They don't teach you the way-

ATHENA Not exactly. How do you know where we need to go?

ALEX Oh. Oh I... okay. I think I get it. Well, I... it started off as trial and error, right? Even when I was just picking up the patterns in my games, or anywhere else, I just would have to take what I saw and turn that inward into something I could say was the truth.

So when I had to start figuring out how pieces of the world and their patterns sorta... fit with other pieces of the world into a bigger conversation, it... I mean it wasn't easy. I don't even wanna say it was comfortable. But it was something I could be confident in, at least.

And, these days, if I don't feel confident in it... I mean, I don't feel confident in it all the time, that's actually what I should've led with. Because, like, how could I be? When things, patterns, don't add up sometimes, it feels like something is lying to me. But at least I've been doing this long enough, that I know that I don't have to trek back and learn the patterns from square one anymore. I can... take it in backwards steps.

I can seem like I'm confident in what needs to happen, and then maybe some part of me can take that little signal boost and make me feel confident. And then, if I feel confident, maybe I'll find the pattern I didn't know in the first place, and that'll feel enough like the truth to me. It'll be enough to get us by. To get me by.

But... that's just me. Sometimes I think everyone has a different way of listening for the truth, you know?

Is... is that what you were asking?

ATHENA Uh-huh. Your turn.

ALEX Okay, now, tell me the truth on this one, Romero: do you actually need to record all of those logs?

ATHENA I'm sorry?

ALEX Dude, do you have to actually do them, or is it just like your diary?

[Athena laughs.]

ATHENA Hey! What's that supposed to mean?

ALEX I mean, no judging-

ATHENA I'm the chronicler, sir, that's my job.

ALEX Alright, Officer, alright. I'll take your word for it. But if you ever wanna try out some new monologue material on something, or someone who isn't a comms, you know where to find me-

ATHENA Yeah, yeah, I'll keep that in-

[sfx: a tree branch breaking]

[Miles and Felix scream]

[sfx: a thud]

ATHENA (CONT'D) Mind. Should we be... running about this?

ALEX Running fast, Romero.

***

[sfx: forest ambiance, a campfire]

FELIX, MILES (in unison) Owwwwwww.

ALEX You two... are going... to be.. the death of me.

FELIX, MILES (in unison) Owwwwwwwwwwwww.

C41 Yeah, yeah 'ow'. Traitors.

ALEXHold still... for just a second.

FELIX Once more, with feeling?

MILES Sure. Why not?

FELIX, MILES (in unison) Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

ATHENA Officer Athena Romero recording. Still Day 28. Second first aid stop of the day. We had a tree incident. Or a gravity incident, involving a tree, I guess.

C41 You two are lucky you didn't break a leg. Or that I didn't get carried off by some dinosaur, leaving me there like that, Felix! How could you?

FELIX I... I... I'm sorry, I'm so weak-

ALEX Ah, save it, Couvillion. Not like you need your strength for much else. Speaking of which-

I'd like to propose a toast. To some time off, to finally making it to the rendezvous point where we await our booty, and to... I don't know, to no more falling out of trees, and no more backwards steps.

FELIX Here, here!

ATHENA Cheers!

MILES Cheers.

C41 Bon appetit.

ATHENA So, Cal, when can we expect for the shipment to get here?

C41 Oh, in about... three-

(distorted and ragged)

Four- three, three,- expect, no, three, seven, no, no, no expect, no, three, two, two- ERROR, retrieval denied, ERROR- ERROR, no, two three-

ATHENA Miles? Are they okay?

MILES Cally? Cal? What's wrong? Come on buddy, hello?

FELIX What is this?

MILES I don't know, they've never done this before, I-

[C41′s BOOT UP JINGLE PLAYS]

C41 Bon appetit! Sorry, you were saying? Oh, right, the shipment. Should be around three days.

MILES ... Cal? You... you okay? You weren't messing with your code again, were you?

C41 And if I was?

MILES Cal-

C41 Kidding, kidding. Joke, funny, haha. No, I wasn't, I swear. Probably just a brief malfunction, whatever it is you're talking about. I feel great!

MILES Okay. If... if you say so.

C41 But I am, like, suuuper tired, gee, I think I need some rest, okayeveryonegoodnightbutnotthetraitorswhoabandonedme! Kisses!

[C41′s BOOT DOWN JINGLE PLAYS]

ALEX I think that's the cue for everyone got some rest, huh? Sleep in tomorrow?

FELIX Oh, I'll drink to that.

ALEX Then let's go for lights out, booboo crew.

[sfx: retreating footsteps]

ALEX If you need to do a log, starshine, just make sure to put the fire out when you're finished, alright?

ATHENA Always do, Alex.

ALEX Yeah, you're right. You always do. Goodnight.

ATHENA

Goodnight.

[sfx: retreating footsteps]

ATHENA (CONT'D) You know, I... I don't even know if I have something I need to talk about tonight. I'm exhausted from the journey, and you already know all about that, HQ.

I don't know. Seems like trouble follows us wherever we go, but at least that's something to count on.

But like I said, I think I'm going to try something new tonight. I'm feeling inspired. Tonight, I'm just going to look up at the sky, and I think... I think I'm going to look for a pattern that feels true.

From Ophiuchus-22, this is Officer Romero, looking up, and signing off.

[sfx: bird song, a glitch]

***

ANNOUNCER Micro-Cosmos: A Science Fiction Podcast.

This episode, Looking Up, was written by Lauren Tucker, edited by Luka Miller, and directed by Jesse Smith, Zyrel Thompson and Lauren Tucker. It starred Jesse Smith as the voice of Athena Romero, Jackson Rossman as the voice of Miles Abbott, Luka Miller as the voice of Alex de la Cruz, Kaleb Piper as the voice of Felix Couvillion, and Pippa van Beek-Paterson as the voice of Cal. Original music by Julia Barnes, and sound editing by Tobias Friedman. Be sure to stay tuned to our feed for upcoming episodes from the new backpacking intergalactic adventure from Futuristic Trail Mix Productions. Enjoying the show, and want to give us a boost? You can support us by rating and reviewing us on iTunes, or wherever you get your podcasts, or telling a friend about us.

To follow the show and find transcripts, you can find us on Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram as @MicroCosPod. Questions, comments, and concerns can be emailed to us via [email protected]. Thank you for listening.

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