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mikaela-the-slut-expert · 5 months

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The First Glance

Hua Cheng x M!Reader x Xie Lian

Honestly I'm just having a go at this and I'm technically writing about my OC. If people notice it that's good. if they don't well😔. So don't hate on me 🖤✨

Mentions of the reader having a veil and white hair, facial scars.

No one has requested any stories from me I wrote this for my own pleasure. So if you want something that isn't for an OC and is for a reader then come tell me and I'll write you something 😋

I keep editing the story cuz I keep forgetting details 😭✊ bear with me plz.

Míngqín means song bird it's Y/n's nickname

Previous part: Tea Shop

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You've been by Xie Lian's side for a long time. You've been his guard for as long as you can remember, and a god under him for even longer. A very long time actually, so you'd like to think you know him well enough to predict his movements. Apparently not.

You're at Puqi shrine, cleaning the place up and fixing dinner for you and Xie Lian. You chose to stay while Xie Lian went and to go investigate a ghost groom who was kidnapping brides. It's since then turned dark and when Xie Lian turns up, there's another man with him. You weren't expecting Xie Lian to bring someone home with him, nor were you expecting the strange man to stay the night.

The strange man's name is actually San Lang, but you still think he's strange anyways. After scolding Xie Lian for bringing someone home without any warning you serve dinner at the makeshift table you came up with. You give San Lang yours, you don't really need to eat. You're a heaven official and being with Xie Lian has you used to it anyhow.

"Thank you for making dinner Míngqín, I wouldn't have minded making it myself", Xie Lian says. You cringe at the thought though. You wave a hand, "not necessary I've got it". You sit down and observe as they both eat. Xie Lian and San Lang chat about something but you aren't paying attention. You're staring at San Lang, it's strange how fast the man has clung himself to Xie Lian. You've never seen him before and yet he so easily acts as if he's known Xie Lian forever.

You look away, thoughts straying to the bed laying on the floor. If it can even be called that it's more like a mat. Are all three of you going to sleep on it? Your thoughts are quickly interrupted when you notice San Lang staring at you. He can't possibly see your face not with the veil you've hidden it behind, but the way he's staring at you makes it feel like he's trying to. It doesn't feel like anything bad or alarming, just unnerving. People don't look at you. They usually stray their eyes away, but San Lang does not.

You leave the table, and lie on the mat. Xie Lian and San Lang will eventually lay down too. You take the middle spot. It makes the most sense, you don't want Xie Lian to be in danger. He's always been kind and you don't want that to back fire on him. You figure it's most safe if you stay between San Lang and Xie Lian.

You are already 'asleep', you aren't of course but you're breathing and heartbeat all sound as if you are. You technically don't need sleep but it's still nice to rest sometimes. You can hear San Lang talk about the missing painting on the wall. There's not yet a painting of the God of Scraps, but Xie Lian ushers San Lang to go to sleep instead.

Xie Lian lies to your right, you can tell. After all you've been sleeping next to each other for years. San Lang lies to your left, leaving you stuck in the middle. It's uncomfortable. You aren't worried about your veil slipping off, it's yours to manipulate and you've long since mastered being able to make the veil comfortable on your face. It's the closeness that bothers you.

You haven't really been in anyone's company other than Xie Lian's. No one else tends to like you, not the officials and not ghosts. That's fine you don't like them either but this sudden presence is new and you've never liked touch in the first place. Touch is scary. It always has been since the fall of XianLe. It makes you want to puke. Xie Lian is the only exception to this, seeing as you've been around him your whole life.

It's not that repulsive actually. For whatever reason San Lang's closeness doesn't seem to make you want to hurl. His breath down the back of your neck however makes you nervous. If you weren't a ghost your heart would be beating fast. You can feel him staring holes into you but you play sleep anyways.

"You're not truly asleep are you?" You internally huff as San Lang asks. You didn't think you were bad at it. You ignore him and continue hoping he'll believe your lie. It's not until a shuffle on your right, and a harsh grip on your robes make you realize San Lang isn't talking to you.

"It's not like I was fake sleeping San Lang" you can feel Xie Lian sit up a bit. "You aren't asleep either" Xie Lian exclaims. You can't see of course your eyes are closed even behind the veil you're worried they'd see your eyes open.

"I was too busy staring at your assistant" his voice takes on a teasing tone. 'Assistant' is what Xie Lian had told San Lang you are. Xie Lian is supposed to be a priest for himself and your alias is to be Xie Lian's assistant. Of course it's not who you truly are. You're truly the God of Song and Xie Lian is truly the God of Scraps. San Lang wouldn't know that though.

Your stomach drops when you feel San Lang's hand start to tinker with your veil. You're about to give it all up to move away but a big clap happens right over your face. You suppose it's time to give it up for the night. You open your eyes, and look up at the clasped hands above you. Xie Lian's holding San Lang's, most likely trying to move his hand away.

"Ah I'm sorry we woke you Míngqín, San Lang just needed a blanket he was cold..." Xie Lian smiles down at you. You nod, "It's okay. Let's go back to sleep then." San Lang only laughs to himself and lies back down. You and Xie Lian lay back down too. The night eventually calms again.

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When morning comes, you realize you fell asleep and when you get out of bed you see that Xie Lian and San Lang have already gotten out of bed. You get up as well and you change your veil. The veil is often changed, you don't like keeping the same design everyday. Some veils cover your whole face, and some veils leave your eyes unhidden. Today you choose a veil that only covers your nose and mouth.

You're ready to go outside until something in the corner of your eye stops you. A painting of Xie Lian back when he was Prince in XianLe..? Did San Lang really paint that? Now it's obvious San Lang isn't a mortal. No one would be able to paint it so accurately from 800 years ago.

You admire it for a minute and then go outside. San Lang and Xie Lian are standing by a cut wood pile. They both turn their heads toward you.

"Good morning Míngqín", "morning y/n". You nod back, noticing San Lang's hair is loose.

"Your hair will surely get caught if you don't put your hair up, San Lang" you haven't really spoken to San Lang the whole time since he's been here but you don't hate him. He did somehow make that painting after all. "Let me fix your hair San Lang" Xie Lian offers. He leads San Lang back inside to a bucket of water.

You know Xie Lian is checking if San Lang is a ghost, but San Lang looks like he is enjoying himself, "Are you just going to play with my hair gege?" Xie Lian is quick to get flustered and he puts San Lang's hair into a very messy braid. It looks messier than before.

You don't pay attention to the fact San Lang has started calling Xie Lian 'gege'. You snicker quietly at Xie Lian's flustered face, as he waves his hands telling San Lang he's all done with his hair. Xie Lian is not very good at doing hair, but San Lang looks happy with it. You don't bother offering to fix it.

"A-Lian it's your turn, come sit". You pat the stool. Xie Lian cooperates and you start combing through his hair. You've always brushed out Xie Lian's hair. He doesn't know how to get the knots out. Xie Lian used to just leave the knots there until you forced him to sit down one day so you could brush it out.

When you're finished brushing his hair you tie it up in his usual half bun-half down hairstyle. You step away from him and notice San Lang staring at you. It seems he's very good at staring.

"You should let gege do your hair as well y/n" you grunt and shake your head. No way you were letting Xie Lian put knots in your hair. You love him very much but you also love your hair.

"No it's alright" you wave a hand but San Lang insists. "I can fix your hair then. Gege did my hair, and you did Gege's. I'll do yours" he smiles. It sounds like generosity, but you've found whatever San Lang says sounds like teasing. You almost shake your head no, but San Lang looks like he really wants to indulge.

"I... Suppose" you hesitate. To fix your hair you would have to take off your veil and only Xie Lian has seen your face and even he hasn't seen it in so long. San Lang is very gentle when he removes your veil, as if he's touching something that will shatter. You cover your mouth with your sleeve. To hide the scars, you don't want them to be seen.

Your thoughts are interrupted by San Lang's fingers running through your hair. He combs it out gently. "Your hair is very beautiful y/n, has gege ever told you?" This flusters you, if you actually had the ability to blush then blood would have colored your cheeks. You have strange hair, it's long but it's white. It's always been like that but after ascending the officials were not your biggest fans. Especially since you stayed with Xie Lian. So they often make remarks about your appearance not that it bothers you.

"Thank you" you notice Xie Lian looking at you. You're eyes are the only thing that can be seen but he's still soaking up what you've hidden for the past hundreds of years before you hide it behind a veil again.

"How come this one hides his face?" San Lang asks as he does something with your hair. You don't know how to answer that so you redirect, "Does San Lang want to see it that bad?" He only laughs at this, and he moves into your field of vision. "I'm all finished. Gege take a look at y/n's hair is it nice?" You want to see what it looks like. You look into the bucket of water.

San Lang put your hair into a braid. He's tied your hair with a red ribbon, it must be San Lang's but you'll keep it. He gave it to you so it's only fair. You run your hands over the braid. Your hair hasn't been styled in a long time, there was never a reason to put it up after all. Your hair is usually left loose.

"it's very pretty San Lang. Míngqín why don't you keep the veil off?" Xie Lian cocks his head to the side. "Yes, there's no reason to hide your face." You furrow your brows, you could keep it off. You're just scared to have your scars out in the open. "... I'll think about it."

You hesitate, but you remove your hand from covering your mouth. To you, your face has been ruined. Your mouth has been slashed from a sword from a very long time ago. Scars line over your lips. You wished that they were pretty scars, with neat lines. They are not though. It's not so bad to show your face to San Lang and Xie Lian.

They stare at you, Xie Lian's look you can understand. You don't understand San Lang's look, he looks as if he's trying to soak up the details of your face too. As if your face is something he hasn't seen in such a long time. You've never met San Lang though...

Now that everyone's hair is fixed, San Lang is an exception to that - y/n giggles every time he sees it - , now they can start their morning. It's a good start to the day and Y/n thinks that San Lang has fit himself quite well into their routine.

Even though San Lang is a new addition to your group he makes it very easy to like him. Especially with how much he clings to Xie Lian's side, but San Lang also seems to be clinging to you too.

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Criticism or comments plzzzz, I want to know if anyone enjoyed it or if there are ways I can make it better. I also want to know if people want to continue seeing the story! Also don't forget you can request me for stuff! 🖤✨

Maple Robes and Lace Veils

#hualian x reader #hua cheng x reader #xie lian x reader #tgcf headcanon #tgcf x male reader #hualian #tgcf #tgcf hua cheng #tgcf hualian #tgcf xie lian #notice me pls

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it-happened-one-fic · 4 months

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Dancing With Visions - Beautifully Vulnerable - Rumba - Kaeya

Author Notes: So, some of you may know that I did a dance-inspired series of fics for Twisted Wonderland. This is going to be the first fic for a series of fics inspired by varying dances for Genshin Impact: "Dancing with Visions." I'm actually really pleased with the way this one turned out! The rumba is a very romantic, Latin dance and, as it says within the fic itself, it is sometimes referred to as "The Dance of Love." I listened to "Night Moves" By Lissie while writing and editing this fic which influenced the general tone of this fic. Reader is technically going to be female throughout this series of dance fics simply to accomdate the fact that a fair number of dance styles work better with a male and female couple due to lifts and what not. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more of this series, the fics can be found here: Dancing with Visions Masterlist

Type: Female reader/ Romance/ pining/ fluff/ comfort/ dance/ sfw/ technically childhood friends to lovers

Word count: 1712

I watched the people swaying rhythmically to the music with a slight smile on my face. It had been quite some time since I’d been to one of these parties. But Adelinde had insisted I come, so here I was. In the Dawn Winery once more, as if nothing had ever changed.

There was a comfort in being back in this building where I’d spent so much of my youth. Playing hide and seek with Jean, Barbara, and the brothers, running through the halls giggling as children will do.

I waved slightly to Diluc and Jean as they passed, mingling with the guests despite how much I knew they’d like to rest on the sidelines. All of our lives had changed so much as we’d all grown.

Diluc had suddenly become the head of the Dawn Winery after his father’s unexpected death; Jean now led the Knights of Favonius; Barbara was at the church; and Kaeya…. Kaeya was filling the position of cavalry captain and had been ever since Diluc had left the Knights.

I idly swirled my glass before finishing my drink. Kaeya was one of the reasons I hadn’t wanted to come. Because even after all this time, there was still that tension between us that a large part of me wished had never appeared.

Being attracted to someone like Kaeya was always risky business, but it felt like that was even more the case since I’d grown up alongside him.

I knew more about him than he really cared to let people know. Because Kaeya preferred to be mysterious, and for reasons known only to him, he kept his walls up.

Both of the Ragnvindr brothers did, but Diluc was a little gentler about it, and I hadn’t fallen in love with him. No, I’d fallen for Kaeya, and it hadn’t been just the dance lessons from all those years ago that had caused it.

Though, to be fair, those certainly hadn’t helped considering Kaeya had chosen the rumba.

I could still hear Crepus' laughter at his son’s choice of dance and him asking if Kaeya had asked me if I was alright with that before making his choice. And of course Kaeya hadn’t, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Back then, we were still young and didn’t entirely understand how embarrassing of a dance the rumba could be.

I noticed Diluc stop off to the side next to his brother, who’d been lingering on the opposite side of the room. Directly in my view, but separated from me by an entire horde of people.

They were talking about something, and the sight brought a slight smile to my face. Because it was a relief that they’d made up to some degree or another after their fight.

I didn’t think I'd ever forget Kaeya showing up on my doorstep that evening, with a bloodied eye, burn marks on his face, and a new vision glowing in his hand.

I still didn’t know why he’d come to me instead of Jean or someone more skilled, but I hadn’t turned him away, despite how shocked I’d been. How could I when he’d been in such shape?

He’d stayed with me for at least a week, though it was hard to say how long it had been now. But during that time, we’d somehow, impossible as it may have seemed, become closer than we ever had been before.

A part of me wondered if it was because I’d ended up being the one supporting him through that time that he’d withdrawn from me. Perhaps the fact that I had been the one with him throughout all of that meant I’d become a reminder of what had happened back then.

But I doubted I would ever know now. Somehow we’d become more distant, and it caused a twinge in my heart when I thought about it too long. Most days, it was fine, but events like this only served as a reminder of what I’d lost.

It made me wonder if that connection I’d thought we had was just something I’d dreamed up, just as much as I questioned the reason why these feelings persisted.

Typically, I ignored the affection I held for the young man and was able to even interact with Kaeya in an easy manner, so long as nothing came up to remind me of that closeness. But here I was, watching people dance with their lovers, and all I could think of was how I’d used to dance so freely with Kaeya in my youth.

Once, before I’d known of the intimacy a dance could cause, and later, after I’d come to recognize that quiet affection that could permeate a space when two people danced.

I sat down my now empty glass, sighing slightly as I made up my mind to say my farewells and go home. It wasn’t as if I was getting accomplished here anyway.

It was beyond clear that tonight was going to be one of those nights where all I could do was reminisce and wallow in the sobering nostalgia of what once was.

But as I turned to go, the song slowly slipped into something slower, with an almost slinky tune that had many of the less confident couples abandoning the dancefloor. And for some reason, I hesitated as I recognized the timing of the song.

Yet another reminder of when I’d dance in that large room, always cleared of furniture so we could better learn the motions of the dance so many called the ‘dance of love.’ And the rumba was a romantic dance, filled with strong emotions once one came to understand such feelings.

My hesitation cost me as a shadow fell over where I stood, fingers lingering on the edge of the table. I turned slowly to see the young man with a star in his eye.

He had that same, perpetually easy smile on his face as he looked at me with a slight tilt to his head as I spoke. His name came out as more of a whisper than anything else, “Kaeya.”

“You weren’t going to leave before I could ask for my dance, were you?” His voice was teasingly accusatory. Playing at pouting just like he so often did.

I found myself smiling, despite myself, as I admitted to my actions that he’d seen through so easily, “I was about too.”

He pressed a hand to his chest, “How hurtful, and after I waited all this time just to get over here to you.”

I almost snorted at his words as I shook my head, “Because I was so busy and you couldn’t make it over here?”

“Oh no, because everyone has been keeping me so busy here tonight.” There was a glimmer in his eye as he paused before continuing, “But a knight always has time for his lady, and I do believe I’ve kept mine waiting long enough, hm?”

I almost wanted to be frustrated with how quickly he could have me slipping back into this easy fondness. Like nothing had ever changed, even though his soft tone showed exactly how much we both knew our relationship had grown throughout the years. Slowly drifting closer and closer to something beyond that of childhood friends as the other companions of our youth watched on. Slight smiles on their faces.

He bowed slightly at the waist, a grin curling across his face as he kept his gaze on me, as if he knew exactly what his attention could do to me, “So, will you honor me with this dance, my dear lady?”

The way he extended his hand made it look like he was offering me something, and I suppose in a way he was. He was offering not only to lead me through yet another dance, to add to the already long list, and simultaneously offering for the two of us to become just a hair closer. And something told me that even though we were already past returning to being ‘just friends’ this dance would seal the deal.

But my hand slipped into his, as natural as it always had and always would, as I responded with a smile of my own, “But of course. My first and last dance has always been yours, Sir Knight.”

His grin spread as I played along with the two of us being a knight and his lady as he straightened and led me out to the dancefloor. Walking backwards as he still insisted on keeping his gaze on me.

It was almost embarrassing, as the crowd around us seemed to go quiet as he pulled me closer so that we were almost nose to nose.

A smile crept across my face as I remembered what Jean had told me the first time she actually saw me and Kaeya complete a dance.

“It was so beautifully vulnerable; I’ve never seen him like that before…. But then, he is more open with you, isn’t he?”

Beautifully vulnerable. It was something I’d wondered about. But I couldn’t deny that there was a certain sensation when it was just me and Kaeya, like there was nothing hidden between us while there was also so much that hadn’t been said and might never be able to be put into words.

Because I really didn’t think there were enough words. Not for this feeling that so often haunted me when it was just me and Kaeya.

And it was true that when we were dancing, there was a difference to Kaeya as well. Almost as if there was more gravity to him, like such moments were of utmost importance to him.

I loved Kaeya’s usual joy, but there was something about his seriousness in this moment, just like it always was, that made me feel oddly secure and like it didn’t matter what else happened; I had him.

It was so starkly different from those moments when I’d question if everything I felt between us was imagined that it made me wonder. It really was like nothing was as it ever seemed. Like these emotions ran far deeper than I could ever realize as we danced through the room. As hypnotic as two shadows that were eternally intertwined, whether surrounded by darkness or blinding daylight.

If you would like to read more:

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eschergirls · 8 months

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It's been 2 weeks so it's time to announce the winners of the contest!

Since it's EG's anniversary month, and given the quality of the entries, I've decided to pick 5 winners. :)

Each winner will get to choose a prize if they wish (but you don't have to, you can just participate for fun, I just wanted to give a prize because I enjoy the caption contests and appreciate all the people who participate).

Also before we start, I want to give a special shout out to Nev on Mastodon for making the very hilarious chair edit that's included in this post. Suddenly everything about Demonslayer's post makes sense! Since it's not technically a caption, it seems unfair to judge it with the others, but I still want to give it an honorary winning spot.

Moving on, here are the caption entries:

P J Evans: The one in red is absolutely going to be going topless if she moves. @singingflames: Wonder Woman's less impressive cousin always felt a little disappointed with her specialty equipment - the invisible toilet.' @ashleyfableblack: Between foreground bewb-ladys pose and strained expression and background bewb-ladys look of disgusted disinterest, I would say bewb-lady one looks like she's trying to cop a squat but I'm not sure she has the internal organs to digest food. @ashleyfableblack: 2nd impression- Bewb-lady red seems to be scratching herself against Bewb-lady blue as if they were a grizzly and a tree.. @mekanikaltrifle: "hey- hold on, lemme just rest my ass on your belt. you're cool with it right?" "Uh no--" "Too late! Ass planted." [world-weary, ass-induced sigh] @humansaregreat: “It was an inconvenient time and place for mini-me to take a poo, but when nature calls…” @karltface: "Though deep in her heart she knew the fart could not be fully trusted, it was too late to stop it." @zombiemollusk: new demon-slaying technique: pogo sword, then threaten to shit. it's a completely foolproof plan. @chattylulumutt: a guide to twerking on giant ladies volume 1 @holyshinta: "Ten fresh new ways to NOT hold a sword! Presented by Lady Tincan and her constipated mother, the Swimsuit Gladiator!" @soap-lady: “Seeing how her Demon Slayer gig has proven unsuccessful, our heroine decides to become the world’s first Bikini Mime. Here she is, convincingly miming sitting in a chair.” @melonbride: Caption: "I thought I could sit down here but it was just a perspective trick, now I'm going to fall over" @everentropy: Both of them: "Oh my god I really have to fart" tacoblacc: It looks like she's twerking on the big lady's belt

And here are the winners!

5th place goes to holyshinta

4th place goes to karltface

3rd place goes to melonbride

2nd place goes to chattylulumutt

And finally the winner is… singingflames!

Congratulations to all the winners :D and also thank you to everybody who participated, your captions were all very creative and good!

If you won and would like a prize, please message me with which prize you would like. If you came in 2nd, message me with 2 choices in order of preference, and if you came in 3rd, message me with 3 choices, etc… I'll give you your top choice that hadn't been taken by the other winners.

The codes I have available are for: Overgrowth, Syberia, Riot: Civil Unrest, Castle Crashers, Hotel Giant 2, Not The Robots, Steel Storm: Burning Retribution, Oddworld: Stranger's Wrath HD, Rage in Peace, Uncertain: The Last Quiet Day, Uncertain: Light At The End, Nigate Tale, and Rogue Heroes: Ruins of Tasos.

Please stay tuned in the future for another contest!

#10th muse #Demonslayer #caption contest #caption contest winners #ridiculous fighting stances #odd poses

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thespianinthebackcorner · 4 months

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bringing this old thing over from Hoyolab

its a theory of mine about Rhinedottir from a while back that I think still stands. I'm just copypasting the entire thing so here we go

Ok so I've had this theory simmering for a while now but after that new trailer and some research it's really coming together. Compared to some other theories out there it doesn't have that much evidence but I am fully prepared for any new Rhinedottir lore so if you have info I've missed please tell me (and tell me where you found the info so I can factcheck.)

My theory summarised is: Rhinedottir, like her son, is a synthetic human. This actually started out way back when we first heard her name. Rhinedottir. sounds like Rhinestone, yeah? And what's a rhinestone? A man-made stone. I did some research into the word Rhine on its own though, and it's (a) the name of a river in France and (b) literally means "that which flows" in like Czech or something. (Edit, it's not Czech, it was like Celtic or something, sorry) So I thought it was a dead end at the time.

But then I did more research. Basically, the "dotter" part of the name is a Swedish last name suffix. Joined onto a name, it literally means [name]'s daughter. (If you're wondering, the male version is "son". Like Johnson or Andersson.) Which is where things get interesting. Since this is Rhinedottir's first name, it seems like her own master's name was simply "Rhine." Which, for a synthetic human, would make sense, as their master is usually the most important person to them. If Rhinedottir chose her own name, it wouldn't be surprising that she picked that. Or, that's the name her master gave her, and she chose "Gold" for herself. (Of course, abiding by the Swedish name logic, Albedo's name should technically be "Rhinedottirsson" or "Goldsson" but... Well, it's pretty clear why Rhinedottir didn't follow the pattern.)

We could also take the "Rhine" part literally, making her name mean "Daughter of That Which Flows." Considering that the alchemical substance that seems to bring these kinds of things to life is a liquid, it makes sense. (Albedo had a line in 2.3's Shadows Amidst Snowstorms that implies this- "The alchemical substance drips and spreads out in all directions, resulting in this rather ingenious diamond shape." He's talking 'bout the star on his neck.)

My second piece of evidence is the story teaser- that is, the Windblume cutscene. The Hexenzirkel that she belonged to was formed a long time ago, and in the conversation in the trailer, Andersdotter (the woman who wrote the Boar Princess, who was human) mentions that her lifespan is nothing compared to the other members of the Hexenzirkel. This conversation appears to have happened before the Cataclysm, so it implies that Rhinedottir already had an extended lifespan. She could also simply be a human cursed with immortality after the Cataclysm, but since she literally went underground for 500 years afterwards, I don't think she could have spared the time to have a tea party. She was blamed for the whole disaster, remember, and it was her creations that went out of control across Teyvat, so she was probably running and staying away from society while working on her ongoing project. In the same cutscene, the hands that hold the small child when she's speaking look a little like puppet hands- they look a bit like they're made of multiple overlapping plates. Coincidence? I think not.

And as a last piece of not-really-evidence that I just want to mention- she's been portrayed a lot as a very cold, calculating woman. And yet in the cutscene, she's shown to have her own humanity and affection for her creations- a direct contrast to how the rest of Teyvat sees her, and how her actions have influenced the world and the people in it. From her creations going wild and causing the deaths of many people and other characters (Xiao's siblings included) to her ruthless abandonment and attempted murder of Subject Two, it's interesting to see her own feelings for a change. However, that stroke of humanity we see is also an explanation as to why Albedo and Durin are so attached to her regardless. (Well, were in Durin's case, but... Not the point.) It's implied in the descriptions of the claws we get from defeating Rifthounds that she considers "Cretaceus"- aka Albedo- as her greatest creations, and that Durin of "Humus" is far greater than the Rifthounds, and likely most of her other creations. So perhaps, despite being an awful perfectionist and a sorry excuse for a mother, she loved her "children" in her own way. It's possible that this morally grey switch between "cold and calculating" and "warm motherly type" is a direct result of the way synthetic or artificial humans- not just in Genshin but in lots of other media too- struggle with how they perceive and express their own emotions, often resorting simply to their natural cold, blunt, logical way of taking things when it gets too much for them or they get confused. Which often results in them suffering even more emotional pain and/or guilt, but what's life without needing therapy at some point? And since that conversation we hear Rhinedottir talk so fondly in likely happened before the Cataclysm, she might've been damaged by all that as well, and used raising Albedo as a method of escapism- leading to her perfectionist attitude getting the better of her. Perhaps she disappeared on him so readily because she needed time to heal, and she had nothing left to teach him in her eyes.

So yeah, that's the theory. If you've got this far thank you, cause I know the formattings gonna look awful on PC. Sorry.

#genshin impact #genshin #rhinedottir #albedo #genshin theory

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goldeneyedgirl · 5 months

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Twilight Advent Calendar Day 5

Dec. 5 - What is each Cullen's favorite college major so far? What new major should they try someday?

Carlisle's favorite: Neurology. I think that Carlisle is someone who connects his faith and his medical practice together, and learning about the brain from a medical standpoint would have fascinated him. I see him studying this in Europe in the late 1700s/early 1800s, and then again in the very early 1980s.

Try someday: I'm going to say Pediatric Oncology. He's never specialized in children's medicine before, and the oncology specialty is particularly difficult because of the amount of loss associated with the department. But if he can use his abilities and lifetime of skills to get one child diagnosis or treatment a little bit sooner, then it's worth it. But the emotional toll would affect his family, so he hasn't tried yet.

Oh, or something revolving around English History, with a specific focuses on religion's role. He'd like to examine that part of his past from an analytical and academic perspective.

Esme's favorite: Interior Architecture. It's one thing to decorate a room, which Esme enjoys, but it's a totally different thing to build the room from scratch to capture a specific kind of light, and be a specific shape, accentuate the sound of Edward's piano, and work with the movements and behaviours of her family. She just loves how she gets to create this sanctuary from nothing. And getting to explore that across residential and commercial spaces was magical to her. It's also one of those degrees she gets to use regularly.

Try someday: Languages. Like the rest of the family, she can speak quite a few, but she'd love to go back and get a formal qualification so that she could do translation work professionally. Esme always seeks out her favourite books in foreign editions to compare the translations, and would love to work on book translations.

Edward's favorite: Music. It's his passion, and he loves to be able to study it so in depth, and get feedback from an academic and practical perspective from someone with a similar interest and passion. Carlisle insists he can only study music once every two decades to encourage diverse interests and prevent a connection being made between identities, so he really savors it when he gets to study it again.

Try someday: Family Law. As as a way to honour his biological father, but Edward has no use for more money or fighting for the prestige in law school, so he likes Family Law the best. It would also come in handy for the Cullens' cover story, and with his gift he believes he could make sure children are protected. Realistically, though, he would only get away with practicing for a year or two, so he keeps putting it off. With the rise in video conferencing and online consultations, though, there's potential for the future.

Rosalie's favorite: Nothing will ever take away the joy and pride Rosalie felt graduating from her very first Engineering degree. It's the one degree she prizes over the others because she was one of the first girls allowed in the program, and she graduated with honours (second place in the class because the school didn't want controversy, but Rose knows they fudged the grades.)

Try someday: Either Social Work or Early Childhood. Rosalie would love to advocate for women, especially those struggling, but she also recognises her bad temper would probably make a mess of the situation. Maybe one day. Early Childhood is more likely; it sounds wonderful but it's still hard - a little easier after Renesmee, but something she's working towards in the future.

Emmett's favorite: Video game design - he loved every aspect of that because it was such a great mix of hardcore coding and computer work combined with more creative aspects. He also loved the diverse applications of it, and explaining how it was valuable for medicine and engineering. His final project was technically a failure because it ran too fast and the controllers were buggy according to his professors, but it was also the first vampire-speed video game to be made and he still adds levels to it every so often.

Try someday: Emmett puts a bunch of degrees that sound mildly interesting or really weird in a hat and draws one out each time. He claims that this creates diverse interests and keeps him on his toes. He just loves the looks at his family's faces when he announces that he'll be tackling a degree in Turfgrass Science or Amusement Park Engineering. Gunsmithing and Surf Science have both caught his eye, though.

Alice's favorite: The very first fashion design degree she ever took. She went from being a girl that stole most of her clothing and wore them until they were destroyed, to learning how to choose fabric, how to draw patterns, cut and sew her own clothes. She learnt about designers, about how fashion shaped society, and it allowed Alice to build herself up from nothing - clothing is such a comfort to her, and being able to make it from scratch is just another level of security.

Try someday: Finance Law. It would be useful for her own wheelings and dealings, since most of her education in finance is from the 50s and 60s night school, playing the stock market, and what she gets from her visions. Having a formal degree in that area would also streamline a lot of stuff for the family. It's just so dry, Alice keeps putting it off. And yes, there would be major Elle Woods vibes if she gets around to it.

Jasper's favorite: Philosophy. The boy does love a little bit of navel gazing and contemplation about humanity as a concept. It's helped him deal with a lot of things that happened in his past, and the choices that he made, as well as how to move forward. He loves getting out the old books and sinking into them for days; it's the only study area where he's actually worked as an online professor.

Try someday: Forensic Psychology. Jasper would love to understand what makes people tick, especially abnormal ones. He would love to understand how he became such a monster, and if it was inevitable or if there was a trigger. And he would really enjoy figuring out the motivations behind crimes. Everything about Forensic Psychology appeals to the strategic side of him.

Bella's favorite: English literature. Bella loves it. She loves classic novels, and getting to study them is a dream. She loves discussing them in depth with other people who are just as passionate about them, and examining the difference in language and media portrayals, as well as the reflections from the author's real lives. She gets to shut herself up with a stack of her favourites, write about them, and get graded on her thoughts. It's perfect.

Try someday: Education or publishing. I think Bella would enjoy teaching literature to high school students, especially at a selective school where the kids were high achievers and invested in their education. She'd be a deadly serious English teacher, maybe even aim for a year or two teaching at a college-level. Or I could see her going into media to get into publishing and editing, allowing her to commit extensive time into reading, but also helping shape future books.

#twilightadvent23 #late to the party #and wearing a temporary brace on my hand so this took three times as long to type out #headcanons #i had a few thoughts about my choices #emmett has the weirdest collection of degrees out of the family #you can't change my mind

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spaceorphan18 · 7 months

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Glee Musical Retrospective : Hello, Goodbye (Hell-O)

youtube

Sung by: Finn Hudson and Rachel Berry feat. New Directions Original Artist(s): The Beatles

I'll bet you a million dollars this is the first song they came up with for the episode. In fact - this may have been the inspiration for the episode. It fits a little too perfectly with the story lines and as an ending number for the episode.

Story Analysis

The thing that I think is hilarious is the fact that this song works on a few different layers and yet is kind of anvil-ish as Glee always is. There's no deeper/subtler meaning because Glee is going to make sure you don't miss anything that they're getting at.

Well... on a meta level - it's the end of the first episode back from a long hiatus, and ultimately, the beginning of the rest of the show. So, we're saying hello to the show and the characters and goodbye because it's the end. Clever, Glee, clever.

As an aside, there's kind of an unusual side effect going on here, too. The show is not the same after this episode. While the Madonna episode will really push the show to where it ultimately goes, we are saying hello to something relatively new and goodbye to simpler, more built on satire, adult focused show and hello to the crazy teen drama the show is going to ramp up to be.

Meanwhile, with the characters -- it's pretty clear that the song is a nice cap on the Finchel/Wemma story lines.

You say yes I say no (You say stop) (I say go, go, go!)

The whole song is the push and pull of where these two couples stand with each other. The episode itself is a whirlwind of ups and downs -- each side wanting then breaking each other's hearts and then pining for each other... it's a bit crazy in that classic Glee style.

You say goodbye and I say hello Hello, hello! I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello

Not to fully recap the episode or anything but... this song is kind of doing that.

Finn was the one to say goodbye first, only to want to say hello again, just as Rachel was saying goodbye again, too -- only deep down she knows she wants the hello.

Meanwhile, Will and Emma are both adult enough that they know even though they want the hello -- for now, they have to say goodbye.

Oh the angst...

Technical Thoughts

So... we're back to black and white costuming! Why? Because the whole message of this song is rather black and white. Both Finchel and Wemma are saying hello and goodbye to each other and ooff tv drama conflict.

I don't have a whole lot to add about the vocals here. Maybe I should be a little softer in my opinions but these Finn/Rachel ending duets are beginning to feel a little bland. They sound fine, but it feels a lot like going through the motions. Also, you won't notice it unless you're really paying attention -- but the back up vocal tracks are again double/tripled/whatever. They always go for that big choir sound when really, there's only twelve of them. (They eventually move away from this style, and I'm kinda ready for it, tdb)

I will say, though, we're supposed to see Rachel's conflict play out on her face -- the fact that she's struggling with saying goodbye to Finn just as he wants to say hello again. It works. It's fine. Their choreography, too, is a whole pull and release, moving together and apart -- another commentary on their relationship.

The rest of the choreography. I just have... thoughts. Okay, so I give them credit -- they're getting better. But it's still a lot of just walking up and down the stage and twirling and a lot of quick camera pans and editing cuts to mask the fact that they aren't really doing that much. Which, it's show choir - they really don't need to be dancing all that much. But it's funny to me the ways they kind of dress up these ending numbers to cover the awkward dancing.

Also -- the goofy smiling from the rest of the cast kind of is a funny juxtaposition compared to the angsting from Finn and Rachel. The rest of the cast seems like they're having a hilarious time -- or doing a great job faking it. (Btw - Kurt and Quinn are kind of giggly with each other -- which makes me wonder what Chris and Dianna were up to.)

Meanwhile - we have Will and Emma angst. And I went back to make sure they didn't use the same Emma reaction twice. They didn't, but oh god are they close. They will use the same shot twice later on in the series...

vs. The Studio Version: There's really not much difference, other than they add the music interlude the original has, as well as a repeated chorus and extended ending complete with Mercedes wailing on the last note. You can also tell there's a lot of autotune going on. Ngl, I don't mind this song -- but after listening to it a bunch of times now, I've gotten a headache.

vs. The Original Version: You know, I didn't realize just how often Glee takes songs and speeds them up. The original version feels so much more relaxed. (I also wonder if that's why the sound feels a little off in the Glee version -- they may have sang it at a slower speed then they had to make it faster to fit the episode.) Anyway, the sound of the original just feels calmer and more unique. I enjoy a lot of Glee's covers, but sometimes they do strip that unique factor from the original.

Also, fun fact - Paul McCartney said he wrote this about the duality of himself. Makes continued sense for Glee to use it for the ending of this episode.

#the great glee rewatch #so's musical retrosective #glee #glee music #hello goodbye #Youtube

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daboyau · 13 days

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Hi!! (sorry there's so much I'm just curious. Also I WILL read your fics one day I swear)

H: How would you describe your style?

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters?

I am grabbing you by the shoulders and gently shaking you. very little brings me more joy than interacting with people, and I’m always super eager to talk about my writing. Never apologize, my friend. Whether you ever read my fics or not doesn’t matter. I appreciate you being here. Now, on to the games!

H: How would you describe your style?

This is…a really hard question for me. Maybe like. Vague? Character driven? Sorry, I’m not really sure. ^^”

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

Okay so I know most people who will read this are here for turtles, but I had this idea for a My Hero Academia fic a while back. Its WIP name is Time Loop murder mystery ghost story. The basic premise is that Izuku ends up having a Quirk that only activates after death (original, I know). He is murdered in middle school, the Quirk activates, but it basically just brings him back as a ghost and he unknowingly moves through his final three days again and again (including his own murder), unchanging and unaware that the world is moving on without him. No one knows who killed him, but the story would follow Katsuki as he tried to solve the mystery so that Izuku can finally rest. I just had this thought of him haunting everyone’s lives without ever knowing how much he would have (and does) affect them, and the story would focus a lot on grief for someone who is still, technically, with you while you also know that they’re forever out of reach. I wrote the first chapter or two and have a lot of it planned out but just haven’t made a lot of headway with actually writing it.

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

The answer is…a lot. Basically I will write the chapter in my notes app, then go back and reread it a couple hours or days later and revise it as I go. Then I’ll repeat that process over the course of a week or three, over and over and over, adding little bits or tweaking words or dialogue here or there. THEN I’ll open up a new doc on my laptop, set my phone next to it, and type out the chapter once again, editing it as I go. And then I’ll reread it one or two more times. So by the time people read it I’ve looked over and revised it like a dozen or more times lmao. That’s probably a small part of why it takes me so long to write the next chapter of my fics.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

Oh I have SO SO MANY!!!! I am foaming at the mouth with the desire to talk about them at all times. I have a whoooole bunch of basic ideas written up, but haven’t started working on any of the actual chapter writing yet because I just know that if I do that, I won’t be working on my current two rise fics. But oohhhh do I want to. So a couple I’m sitting on currently are:

2012/2018 TMNT crossover, where the 2012 turtles see a portal open in the sky, go to investigate, and happen to find some very unusual, weird glowy weapons. They of course decide to take said glowy weapons home.

A DC/Rise crossover, where the boys find themselves face to face with some angry looking heroes after (surprise surprise) they fall through a portal! It would probably be a Young Justice crossover, though I’ve kicked around the ideas of a handful of different heroes/iterations. I think the idea of them ending up with Shazam would be fun, but I think that story would be best humorous and I’m not good at anything except angst. So definitely leaning more towards Young Justice at the moment while trying to decide if I want all four of the boys to have gotten tossed into a new universe or just one or two of them.

There’s the little Rise/Harry Potter au I daydream about (mostly just bc i want to sort the boys into houses) but probably won’t ever write.

There are a lot more but this is getting long and I could go on and on about my ideas for hours so I’m reeling myself back in by force.

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

Oh man. Honestly I wish someone would finish my very first attempt at writing fanfiction. I abandoned it 3/4 of the way through and swore up and down for yeeeears I’d finish it, but I just never got the gumption to. I’d love for someone else to ghostwrite the last couple of chapters for me. It’s haunted me for years.

O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters?

Plot 100%. Usually I’ll come up with the bare bones of an idea, and then from there I’ll decide which characters would fit best, and from their individual characterization and personality that sort of forms the remainder of the tone/interactions/certain plot points of the story. (I say that, but tbh I’m really bad at plotlines and usually just wing it. I have an idea to start with and an end goal to aim myself at, but I am flying by the seat of my pants chapter by chapter and just hoping nobody notices.)

#Rottmnt #tmnt #bnha #mha #ask game #asks #Thank you for asking me questions about my writing it is always nice to have an excuse to chatter about it

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cornbread-but-minecraft · 1 month

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Cornbread's Music Fixer Devlog v1.3.0 - Volume Tweak Update 2 April 5th, 2024

so, last week i held a poll to determine how loud swamp music should be in my resource pack, Cornbread's Music Fixer. unfortunately for everyone involved, i managed to make up my mind immediately after the poll went up, and what i decided should happen goes completely against the poll's results. apologies to all two participants. your generous donations of 0 dollars and -4 chewed up wads of gum will be refunded in 104 to one 118 business days.

but in all seriousness (okay, maybe not that much seriousness), i've finally made up my mind and decided that swamp music should play at 10% volume, and that underwater music should also be lowered to 10% volume. this is for two reasons:

even though underwater music is already at a lowered volume on bedrock compared to java edition, it technically wasn't added until 1.16, the rest of the music of which i've already fucked with.

underwater music is just really fucking loud. even at its vanilla 20% volume, you'd think it was 1.20 music with how loud it swells.

and so, i've decided both swamp and underwater music should adhere to the guidelines i've set out for this pack and be lowered to 10% volume.

this is not the most interesting thing about this update though.

Cornbread's Music Fixer will no longer be split into separate releases for bedrock and java edition. the pack will now be compatible with both, instead being split into two different variants: Bedrock Style and Java Style.

for those unaware, prior to 1.16, bedrock edition didn’t play any of its music at full volume, instead playing it at 10 to 30% volume, depending on the track, so that all the music is at around the perfect amount of audibility. unfortunately, most of the music since 1.16 hasn’t had this treatment, instead ranging from 40% to 100% volume like on java edition, without any care for how it meshes with the existing music.

obviously, a full 900% jump in volume is about the most jarring thing you could ever listen to, and so i needed to fix it.

Bedrock Style will fix this volume issue by lowering the volumes of all new music to match the old music, while Java Style will raise the volumes of old music to match the new music. this is the only feature difference between the two styles. both styles will be compatible with both editions.

the creative mode tracklist currently still differs between editions, just for no reason other than i'm not sure how i want to tackle this particular discrepancy. just to clarify this means it will play survival mode music as well as creative mode music on java edition, regardless of the style chosen, while it will only play creative mode music on bedrock.

also, 'one more day' plays on frozen peaks in both styles in both editions.

anyway, unless i come up with something else i wanna change, 1.3.0 is done and will be releasing sometime in the next 20 to 48 weeks, or longer, depending on how much i procrastinate. *raises wineglass* here's to wondering how much mojang'll fuck up 1.21's music, and to hoping ancestry isn't too ear-splittingly loud because i have not listened to it yet.

#minecraft #minecraft bedrock #minecraft java #minecraft resource pack #cornbread's music fixer #cornbread does a devlog

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pellaaearien · 7 months

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20 Questions for fic writers

@five-and-dimes, @signiorbenedickofpadua, AND @cuubism all tagged me in this, and when three of your favourite writers ask you to do a thing, you do it. SO! Here goes.

How many works do you have on Ao3?

A nice round 25 😊

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

540, 538. I should update my portfolio.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Sandman, right now. Technically I still write for Doctor Who and maybe Lucifer but frankly it's all I can do to manage one fic right now, so.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

They're mostly Lucifer fics, I'm surprised. I thought AWFA would have passed them by now. The Devil You Know (1955), 100 Ways (1696), What Dreams May Come (1626), White Days (1533) and rounding it out with Doctor Who, Fool Me Once (1474). I'm kinda proud of that last one.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Usually, yes. I try to.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't really write angsty endings tbh. Not my jam. Probably a toss up between the ending of The World is Unraveling, because it ends on a cliffhanger, and maybe Out of the Cold, because it ends ambiguously, but nothing I'd characterize as angsty.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I mean, the rest are all definitely happy, enough that I have trouble picking just one. The first one I thought of, though, is To Hell and Back, because it ends with a wedding.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully not. The worst I get are vague comments about "I wish you hadn't written it like this" which are hurtful, but I ignore.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

The ace kind. In that, I've been told that my smut reads like it was written by an ace person (it was a compliment).

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I write crossovers very rarely, because I find they tend to stray crackier than I intend. However, I am pretty proud of the Doctor Who/Lucifer crossover I wrote based on the Impossible Planet episode. (Mistaken Identity)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so. I've had people write their own version of my fic? Which was flattering, but also made me feel kind of odd.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of. That would be really cool.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really, no, unless bouncing ideas off a discord counts.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I don't have one. I get REALLY into one ship in the moment, and then I move on to the next, which doesn't mean that I love the previous ships any less, or that I love the current ship more, it's just what happens to be bouncing around my brain at any given time.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Can I answer 'all of them'? Truthfully I think Locum Tenens has to take that spot, I started posting it with the notion that getting traction on it would make me want to continue, but the idea of writing what I have planned for it is SUCH a daunting prospect. I never say never but that fic will be a LOT of work.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Character. I'm good at keeping voice consistent, at getting into a character's head and really understanding how and why they would react a certain way. I'm also really good at making connections, at drawing on things from canon to use in a new light.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I am SLOW. I only put something down if it's what I really want to say, and I edit as I go, so my pace usually hovers around the hundreds of words per hour. I also think I'm bad at writing emotional scenes, but in this I compare myself to others, and I know that's a false dichotomy, because obviously my writing isn't going to affect me emotionally the same as someone else's. I just feel like I consistently fall short of the ideal in my head, but I guess that's common to all writers for the most part.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Awkward, generally. As a linguist, I couldn't live with myself if I didn't get everything absolutely perfect, and it's hard for me to justify including whole lines in a different language in a fic written in English. That's not to say I've never done it, but most of the time if I want to use other languages I'll just pepper in a few words here and there.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I'm going to draw a distinction here. The first fandom I wrote for, where I was on tumblr and engaged in actual fandom stuff, was Doctor Who. My first published fic on Ao3 was for Dragon Age (Skyhold Slept), and my first fic I ever wrote (published nowhere, I was twelve) was for LotR, but I did not, and still don't, consider myself a part of their respective fandoms. Maybe that's a silly distinction, but I consider immersing myself in and engaging with other fans and content an integral part of how I write now, when it hasn't been, historically.

20. Favourite fic you've written?

That's like asking me to choose between my children. I'm going to cop out and say every fic is my favourite while I'm writing it, so it's Another Word For Ache. Sorry I don't have a more interesting answer to round this off.

Aaaaand I feel like a lot of people have been tagged, so how about @themirokai, @delta-pavonis, @thewollfgang, @moorishflower, @eidetictelekinetic and anyone else who wants to play!

#pella answers #tag games #talking about my writing #thanks for asking!

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m-madeleine · 4 months

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hi! for the end of the year asks: 1, 3, 9, 14, 22, 24?

Hiiii!

1. How many books did you read this year?

Officially 33, although counting is difficult because I interned in publishing this summer and read some books that weren't out at the time. I keep thinking of more books I finished half a year ago. There's one that's announced for February and I guess I'll be counting it for this year instead??

Then there were also a couple that I technically finished, but am not counting for my goodreads challenge for Reasons, like I was basically skimming because of fast review deadline...or found so artrociously horrible I don't even want it to stain my account lmao. And that last one, I did the final edit for, so I know how bad it was even after multiple professional editing rounds :P

3. What were your top five books of the year?

In no particular order

A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik (EL!!! El, the girl who was born to be evil and fights tooth and nail to stay good out of spite T-T) (Also I realized I operate nigh daily on the exact same level of vigilance as a kid in a school that will KILL YOU and that's....a lot)

The Old Ways by Robert Macfarlane (chill nonfiction about hiking and sailing mostly around Britain)

Shadow Girls by Carol Birch (girl's schools and ghostssss)

The Death of Bees by Lisa O'Donnell (two girls bury their own parents in their backgarden; macabre in the best ways, grim but full of love)

Dark Places by Gillian Flynn (essentially a fictional true crime case where you actually get the satisfaction of unpeeling all the layers through a round dance of POVs, left me Pondering for daysss)

Bonus: Along the Trenches by Navid Kermani (a travelogue that gets into the nitty gritty of the history and politics of Eastern Europe and the Caucasus) (I've only gotten halfway through, but I have to mention it NOW because it's amazing and Kermani has been cemented as my non-fiction crush)

9. Did you get into any new genres?

Not really! I def felt a taste for dark stuff this year though.

For the opposite of Getting Into, I had to read a lot of r0mance novels and new adult fiction for work, and mmmmmmm no. No shade, I did enjoy a couple, even though I'm not sure I would've finished them if I didn't have to. But they're just so formulaic T-T I need my books to have a kick.

14. What books do you want to finish before the year is over?

Worked hard on finishing In Männerkleidern by Angela Steidele. It's somewhere between an academic work and a conventional biography? The subject is a working class AFAB person in early 1700s Germany who lived sometimes as a woman and sometimes as a man, had a really interesting life, married a woman but eventually got busted and executed for "sodomy with a woman".

I think Steidele is pretty solid about dealing with the transman or lesbian or?? controversy potential, refers to the main character as whatever gender they were presenting as at the time and when discussing the possibility of interpretation at the end gives evidence for and against all possibilities fairly imo.

You're usually not gonna catch me reading history stuff outside uni, but this was a treat.

22. What’s the longest book you read?

Mansfield Park!

24. Did you DNF anything? Why?

Oh yea. For one, a lot of that was involuntary through work, often you'll only get a 50 page sample, sometimes the rest isn't even written yet.

One thing for work I DNFd more or less voluntarily was What Doesn't Kill Us by Ajay Close (sent in for translation licensing). I actually loved it and for the first and last time felt that famed editor "This is MY manuscript and I'm FIGHTING for it" feeling. Buuuuut it's very dark and visceral and I wasn't in a great headspace at the time, so I kind of just quiet quit on it during my last week. I did still write it a recommendation for as far as I got.

Outside of work, The First Day of Spring by Nancy Tucker. Only took me a couple pages to realize it was based on Mary Bell. I actually thought it was very well done, but it was tough to read just because of the subject and even flipping forward didn't help. I don't think I'll go back to it, I feel like I kind of know what it was doing and where it was going and I liked it, but don't need to experience it page by page.

#thank youuuu #i have a lot to say about books huh #lev reads #askbox meme #teddy-after-all

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jaybarou · 3 months

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I'm turning some of my most AU fanfics into Original short stories in the hopes of selling them to a publisher. (And thus get some cred to send my CV to Publishers and leave my job)

While I unfic them all, I'll post them here and you can read them with the tag #limited edition. I'll delete them after a few days

<7k words

Freddie is running out of time before the presentation for Stenson Industries and he needs a competent technician yesterday. How fortunate, then, that someone who was waiting and overheard his problem is willing to help.

Freddie burst into the hall and everyone held their breath while the second son of the boss made his way to the head of department. The rest of the employees mourned the poor woman and settled to watch the dismemberment. There were three rules in the company. Number one: Don’t piss off the boss. Rupert was a clever bastard who should have been a lawyer. Number two: Don’t mess with Tim, he was under Rupert’s protection and Rupert would utterly destroy you if you dared contradict the guy. Number three: Keep Freddie as a friend, but only behind Rupert’s back.

Freddie had turned into a tyrant lately. He used to be the most understanding of the three and the one to go to if the others were being unreasonable. The Winter fiasco had taken its toll on him, but even with the new bitterness, he was far more flexible than his relatives and he was your man if you wanted something that was technically off-limits. Going against Freddie was a suicide too, especially after the winter thing. Today Freddie had his ‘I have had a horrid day and I’ll be polite about it until I’m not’ face going on. The head of the department was so doomed.

She didn’t know it yet, though, since Freddie was coming from behind.

“Rosita,” Freddie’s icy tone clued the woman in, so she was properly scared when she turned to face her boss. “May I inquire as to the whereabouts of our IT crew?”

Ow, he was using the big words, he must be royally crossed.

Oh, but the head of department was breathing relieved, she probably had an ace up her sleeve. Anyone who worked at the Intenur Company for longer than a year had to lean to be prepared for their bosses’ moods.

“I alerted them when you asked me; I have sent no less than three messages this week and three more during the morning in anticipation. They assured me that the material would be ready yesterday and that they wouldn’t work on it today.”

Wow! Perfectly deflected blame! And the IT crew wouldn’t have it too bad; they were Tim’s friends. This was not a surprising development all the same; they always messed up Freddie’s tasks, and everyone knew that it wasn’t a coincidence. Tim’s protection was the only explanation as to why they still had a job.

“And the material is there for Tim’s and Rupert’s worthless power points, but I told them there was a compatibility problem with my presentation a week ago.”

“With all due respect, sir, that is not my responsibility.” Rosita had brass balls, or ovaries.

Freddie pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed slowly. “I’m aware; Rosita, but now I need a solution.”

“The other presentations are not causing problems,” she had the cheek to mention.

“Of course not! They are using the company’s system!”

“And why is that a problem? Maybe if you didn’t insist on using your personal computer...”

“It is a problem because it is Pi-21’s stupid technology, Rosita. What kind of impression do you think we will give to Miss Lloid and Mr Stenson if we present our data with their rival’s technology?”

“I’m sure they know by now.” Rosita sent a furtive look at the clients whispering into each other’s ears; a businesswoman and some oil-stained technician. Freddie didn’t spare a look. They were probably gossiping about Freddie’s tantrum; that seemed to be the default these days. Maybe Freddie’s interruption was making them impatient, but Freddie couldn’t care less. He had bigger problems.

“I can’t just transfer my presentation; Pi-21’s software keeps wrecking everything, I could write the transfer code, but not in the next...” Freddie looked at the clock on his mobile. “Not in twenty minutes!”

“I could call the IT crew for you.”

“Today it is Sophie’s shift; she will say that it is my fault, for working with Stenson technology. She only works with simple ‘intuitive’ code like Pi-21’s. I want someone competent!”

One of the two waiting clients approached them.

“I-” he started.

Freddie didn’t give him the chance to complain.

“I’m terribly sorry for the delay, but there is an emergency in the company.” Freddie usually kept his cool like a boss, well, better than the other bosses. He was usually PR’s wet dream, but he could be downright irrational if the situation really got to him. The Winter Project had been proof enough. “Unless you can fix the computers in time, kindly stay put for a few minutes.” The ‘or else’ was implied.

“I certainly could,” the client said cheerfully. Freddie looked at him skeptically.

“But…” Rosita tried to intervene.

“Do you have a solution, Rosita?” Freddie asked.

“Of course she doesn’t, she is a clever girl, Pi-21’s software is not for clever girls. Show me to the problem, Mr Legs.” The man had the gall to walk to the door where Freddie had come from and open it for him.

Freddie regarded the man warily. Twenty minutes. He still had time to look desperately for someone else if the man couldn’t help and fail. “Why not? I’m doomed anyway.” Freddie walked to the door with a sigh.

“But, sir! He is Ryan Stenson!” Too late; the door was closed. “I’m so screwed,” Rosita muttered thinking of the moment when Rupert heard how she had failed to stop Freddie.

Miss Lloid put an understanding hand on her arm; she probably knew a thing or two about trouble with bosses.

Freddie took the man to the conference room where he would have to meet the head of Stenson Industries. He had his custom Stenson laptop there with his presentation and an enormous mess showing on the Pi-21 screen of the company. There wasn’t even an error message, just all the text overlapped with the images and the data, and then it had frozen. If Rupert wasn’t such a resentful man, they’d have Stenson’s holo-displays everywhere instead of that waste of space that Pi-21 called technology. Unfortunately, Rupert would own the company for as long as he lived and Tim would follow his steps like a trained monkey.

The unexpected client-turned-help didn’t ask for permission, he just sat in front of Freddie’s computer as if it was his. He sent a disdainful look at the problematic frozen screen and he turned to Freddie with an amused smile to say: “Let’s start with archaic solutions for archaic technology.” Then the technician crouched to unplug the projector.

“I’ve done exactly the same more than once today.” It was the only way to unfreeze the projector, but Freddie resented the know-it-all attitude of the technician.

The man seemed to take that as a challenge, so he cracked his knuckles and promptly opened the familiar black window of MS-DOS. He started to write while Freddie looked over his shoulder. He was pulling pieces of code that Freddie had not considered, and he didn’t even need to do much after he was done. He just opened the Stenson software for presentations and saved the file that Freddie pointed out in a format that wasn’t there before the man had touched the computer.

The smug bastard had a cheeky smile when he presented Freddie with the pen drive.

Freddie saved all his praise until he plugged the USB drive on the projector and it miraculously worked. The clock on the screen said it had taken the technician… less than five minutes. Freddie was pleasantly surprised; he was going to thank the stranger, but then the presentation played the music that Freddie had saved without hope of it working.

“This thing never plays music, at least never at the same time as the presentation!” He let himself slouch on the chair closest to the projector. The presentation was saved.

“It was just too easy,” the smug technician commented.

“I would have managed with a bit more than twenty minutes,” Freddie said, pride a bit hurt.

“If your coding is as good as your people skills, twenty minutes would have easily become a week of work.”

“What gives you the right to say that?” Freddie protested.

“You have not even asked my name.”

Freddie pursed his lips. Despite having collapsed on the seat, he was tense all over. He had been stressed since he found trouble with the presentation a week ago and predicted more trouble with IT on top of the other preparations. The man was right, he had been snappy and the presentation hadn’t even started yet, so he took the chance to breathe deeply. And to collect his politeness from the depths of despair.

“Excuse my manners, I-”

“Yes, you don’t need my name, just my services,” the man cut him without retracting that annoying smirk of his.

“Fortunately your coding is better than your own people skills, then,” Freddie said, annoyed.

“No, just as good, people love me, I have people skills to spare somewhere, just not today, and I have a lot of class.”

“And what are you implying there exactly?”

“That music in your presentation? Tacky.” Let it be known that Freddie knew when he was being mocked and when he was being teased, he just had more experience with the former.

“I didn’t expect it to work and I can put whatever music I want, because the content is solid.”

“Show me.”

Freddie leaned forward. “What?”

“I said show me!” The technician leaned forward too. “You have time, right? I want to see the monster I helped to create.”

Freddie didn’t have time to reply, because the man stood up, took the remote control from the table, walked in front of the screen and played the presentation. Freddie did have the time now; Stenson should be with Tim and his unproductive dreams of harnessing storms to generate electricity. The technician’s opinion wouldn’t be very enlightening, but this way Freddie would have the chance to check his own presentation one last time.

“This section, why is it so short?” The technician said about the grid connection as he sat on the table. Freddie sat next to him.

It was Freddie’s favorite section, but Rupert didn’t like it, so Freddie had only sneaked a basic idea. He was quite proud of having passed it under the old man’s nose.

“Rupert is old school.” Freddie smirked privately. “He likes the old power plants and he hates Stenson. Hates that his green approach to energy is harming our productivity, and he doesn’t see that an update could benefit both of us. After all, as you see here, we already have a power grid that Stenson wants; we would only have to update the power plants. It would be a great investment, but he doesn’t like it.”

The technician crossed his arms. “He doesn’t like Stenson?”

Freddie laughed. “It is more than dislike. Stenson is the bane of his existence, as Rupert says: who does he think he is, that short-sighted idiot? or whatever short joke he thinks at that moment; apparently the man is quite short.”

“Yes, people say that. Go on.”

“Well, Father always says that Stenson will destroy America, because Forbes might call him a hero but his technology is destroying jobs everywhere, his words, not mine.” Freddie rolled his eyes.

The technician kept playing the presentation and smirked at one of the references.

“That is the project I… saw in a magazine about Stenson. It is not well known, is it? Have you been stalking him or something?”

“I’ve done my research. That high-entropy alloy project is spectacular, but it is not showy enough for the press, or the shareholders, Miss Lloid and he will probably value that Intenur-”

“Your boss is not here, Legs.”

Freddie hesitated for a moment, but the man was smart, he was learning how the Intenur Company worked incredibly fast.

“They will value that I recognize the real potential out of the flashy prototypes for the general public.”

“Are you saying that they lie with their flashy prototypes?”

Freddie looked the technician dead in the eye.

“Of course they do. That’s what marketing is about.”

“Would you tell them that to their face?”

“Of course not. Rupert would behead me if I did something to hamper his deal.”

“Why would he want a deal with a man he hates?”

“I convinced him that he could push his hate aside for the good of the company and to leave a better legacy to Tim.”

“The company, of course, because clean energy and the bigger picture are nothing compared to stock numbers.”

“Obviously you have never discussed it with Rupert. I told him what he needed to hear; I won’t jeopardize the ‘bigger picture’ as you say, by telling him something as feeble as the whole truth.” Freddie leaned his hip against the table. “Then the shareholders gossiped about Stenson and how easy it would be to negotiate some changes with him and Rupert was sold.”

“Huh? And what did they say about Stenson?”

“Why do you ask?”

The technician shrugged and grinned. “Because I want to keep listening to your voice, but I don’t think you’d appreciate me distracting you from the topic.”

Freddie raised an eyebrow at the blatant flirting, but let it slide. “They said that it takes a lot to keep Stenson interested in a single topic unless it is really engaging, but they also told us to use eye-candy to keep him involved.” Freddie allowed himself a private smile, the one that people compared with a snake’s. “Tim called his girlfriend to play the part of eye-candy. She is an expert in the field of his presentation, so he was terribly angry that she was called only for her looks.”

The technician shared his smile with the same subtle touch of cruelty that Freddie found… endearing.

“Maybe you should have read more magazines, and you would know that you put eye-candy in your presentation anyway?”

The technician was looking up and down at Freddie quite obviously. Freddie’s lip twitched and he retreated any endearing thought that had passed through his mind.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he swings both ways, you know?” Freddie didn’t dignify that with an answer, which was a bad decision, because the technician came back. “Don’t tell me you are one of those bigoted idiots who think bisexuality is just...”

“You are lucky I needed you. That comment would have you in the street by yesterday if you worked here.” Freddie didn’t appreciate being called bigoted; he had enough putting up with Rupert daily trying to keep his second son’s “scandalous ways” in the closet, thank you very much. “I was merely surprised; I don’t think I’ve ever been called eye-candy before.”

“Why the hell not? Do you usually hang out with blind people? Wait, Rupert is the guy with the eye-patch, right? Does that count as half-blind?”

“That is very insensitive of you.” Freddie chastised, but his twitching lip was persistent. He would love to say it was annoyance, but deep down he knew it was amusement.

“Let me guess; that comment would put me in the street by yesterday if I worked here. How lucky that I don’t actually work here, don’t you think?” The man had no sense of self-reservation. “And let me tell you, if your definition of eye-candy is allowed to have brains, you totally qualify, take it from an expert in eye-candyness.”

“An expert.” Freddie deadpanned with only a badly concealed hint of interest showing.

“An expert indeed! I look into the mirror every day, after all.”

Freddie pretended to think seriously, looking the technician up and down on his spot sitting on the table. He was indeed quite handsome, but Freddie was not going to make the same mistake twice and appreciate a man within Rupert’s earshot. “No, I don’t really see it.” Despite the words, Freddie sent a challenging look at the technician that contradicted is words, just in case the presentation went well and Freddie decided to celebrate when he went home.

“I’ll have you know I look amazing in a suit, in any suit, or with nothing at all, I’m only wearing the workshop uniform to piss… my friend off. Hell, I could wear a corset and stockings and I’d still look hot as-”

Freddie’s phone pinged. He put a hand up to make the technician stop for a moment while he read Tim’s message and his face fell a little.

“Apparently the eye-candy won’t be necessary after all. Tim says that Stenson didn’t come; it was only Miss Lloyd in his presentation, and apparently she is headed here.” Freddie looked at the clock. “Early. You should probably leave, ask Rosita anything you want at the front desk and tell her I approved it. She’ll make an invoice if necessary.”

“Unless she’s giving me your phone number I’m staying.”

Freddie glared at the man.

“What? Pi-21’s technology is famously unreliable as fuck. What if you suddenly need a dashing hero to help you?”

Freddie glared harder.

“I told you that I wanted to keep hearing you; what makes you think you’ll get rid of me anytime soon?”

Unfortunately for Freddie, Rosita showed Miss Lloyd into the conference room at that exact moment and Freddie had to put on his public mask and shake hands with the woman. Lloyd excused Stenson for not coming. She said something about a last moment change of plans; she also said that her chief engineer was prone to last-minute impulses and ideas while sending a look at the technician by Freddie’s side. There was no polite way to get rid of the man in front of Lloyd, though, and the man knew it. So he rolled on with his presence and ignored Ms Lloyd’s look. She’d have to suffer his presence too.

Freddie would have said something scathing about Stenson’s absence, but his lips were sewn as long as there was a possibility of a deal on the horizon.

The presentation ended up being a disaster and it was the technician’s fault. He kept interrupting Freddie and addressing Ms Lloyd directly, to Freddie’s chagrin. Freddie couldn’t explain the man’s presence now and he couldn’t just throw him away in front of Ms Lloyd. His comments were on point, but Miss Lloyd wouldn’t appreciate that someone that Freddie had not even introduced interrupted like that. Also, Freddie had prepared the presentation with Stenson in mind, he didn’t know as much about the discrete CEO.

A complete disaster.

Ms Lloyd left the room an hour later to speak with Rupert and as soon as the door closed behind her, Freddie collapsed on one of the rolling chairs. The technician was giggling like Freddie’s career wasn’t crumbling before his eyes.

“That was brilliant!”

“No it wasn’t. You were interrupting!”

“I assure you she won’t mind, she is used to much worse.” And as an afterthought he added, “probably.”

“Even if that is true, I don’t think Rupert will see it your way.”

Freddie wallowed a bit more in his misery before the technician derailed his train of thought.

“If Stenson had known what kind of presentation you had in your hands, he wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

“I guess we will never know.”

“Hey! I’m telling you! I’m sure!”

Freddie huffed sarcastically, but the technician was having none of it. “How come you know about a small project of Stenson but you ignore the most basic things that everybody knows about him?” He had an elbow planted on the table and his teasing tone was both baffled and soft at the same time.

“When I started to investigate I didn’t know he was a celebrity. When I realized he was, I did everything in my power to avoid yellow-press literature. It’s just too unreliable, and it would poison my own vision.” Freddie was defensive over his choices. “I think that reading his papers is enough. Don’t you think?”

“You have read his papers?” His eyebrows lifted briefly.

“And patents. Of course.”

“But most of his patents have nothing to do with clean energy, why would you read those too?”

“He is quite inventive; the material innovations were clean solutions. Masterpieces in a field that still managed to convey how his mind works. You can follow his thought process by-”

“Reverse engineering?” The technician ended his phrase. Freddie didn’t like how surprised he looked.

“I might come across as Rupert’s left hand, and the convenient scapegoat but I assure you that I’m more than the company’s tool.”

“I don’t know you,” the technician showed his hands conciliatory. “Maybe you should show me how much more you are.”

“Don’t play with me. It is not a good moment.” Freddie regarded the technician; he wouldn’t be trouble. “I planned today’s meeting with a high risk to my career, things are already terrible as they are.

“Why risk so much? You would have convinced The CEO of Pi-21 instead easily.”

“First, no matter what Intenur does, I only deal with the best and second… Well, I was looking forward to meeting him in person.”

“Why?”

“That is not your concern.” Freddie knew he had said the wrong thing, because now this man’s interest was piqued.

“Awww, how cute, you have a crush on him!”

“What? No! I don’t know him!”

“Yes you do, why would you bother otherwise?”

Freddie was done with that conversation, but he was starting to remember that this technician was supposed to be a client who was owed an apology for getting dragged into this whole mess, so he ended up answering in defeat.

“His research into AIs. There is speculation about him having made great leaps, but he covers it with zeal. It’s been years since he last published on the subject and I think it is because he made something spectacular.”

“His AIs... You are a nerd, aren’t you?” The technician-maybe-still-client laughed. “Why would you want to know about that and not his super-amazing robotics sowcase?”

“Because… Well, I have a couple of AIs myself, and as I developed them beyond what we currently know about AIs... I understood that I would never expose them to the public, no matter the sum offered. You wouldn’t understand, it is a strange connection with something that you’ve created that sounds… ridiculous. A program…” Freddie shrugged. “Tim says it is unhealthy, being attached to a few lines of code. But I found that I want the best for them and to make sure they cause no harm either.” He turned to watch the man warily. “And you won’t make me feel ashamed of it.”

“Perish the thought.”

“Any joke about cyberphilia and I’ll make sure nobody finds your body.”

Freddie could see the alternative joke forming in the technician’s mind, but before he could brace himself, the communication system came to life and Rupert’s voice filled the room.

“Freddie, Ms Lloyd has left the building without a closed agreement. Your plan has failed! and the company will suffer for it!”

“Maybe if Tim’s presentation hadn’t been so bland, Ms Lloyd would have been more interested in that agreement.”

“Your brother’s proposal was bland because you let him down, to do your own thing, like you always do. I hope you are proud of yourself! I should have known that you would make this deal a failure. Do you know how much time I put into this? Time I don’t have, Freddie! Time I can’t waste if you can’t even make Stenson come to listen to us.”

“You can’t blame me for that too. He is the one who decided not to come.”

“I warned you, my son. That little man isn’t worth a single minute of our time. Now, you will make sure this has been your last failure, you will forget about this venture or, as much as it pains me to say this, you will leave the company.”

Freddie’s blood went cold. His whole world darkened around the corners, all of him was focused on that speaker. Leave the company?

“Sir, negotiations have only started; it was almost six months until we convinced Vanestia co. to sell the company. We could still strike a deal with Stenson Industries in that time.” Freddie tried to hide how much it hurt him to think of giving up on this opportunity.

“No, son.”

The communication system died and Freddie held his breath. Rupert had never been so direct, he always insinuated and implied that Freddie was a waste of time and space that should only help to make Tim climb higher, but he was never this blunt. Rupert knew how to make Freddie stay by the company’s side and Freddie tried to earn the same respect as his brother, well, his not-blood-brother, as Freddie had discovered during the last project. His efforts had been less and less effective since the winter affair.

Of course, Freddie had suspected that Rupert favored Tim; it was plain to see, but Freddie had expected to overcome that favoritism with hard work or trickery. Apparently nothing was enough, nothing would ever be enough. What was the sense in trying anymore? Freddie should give up, leave Intenur definitely before being pushed out. But what would he do? He had worked there his whole life; there was nothing he could do now. Other companies hated Freddie because he had inconvenienced them in favor of Intenur. There was nothing to do. No solution. Nothing.

“Hey, ravenlocks? Someone home?” Freddie looked up to the Technician. Freddie had been still looking at the loudspeaker for a few seconds after it disconnected. Without the man’s interruption, he would have kept falling for a long time, he was sure of it. “After that, you look like you need a drink.”

“I won’t have a career by tomorrow morning. I think I need more than a drink.”

“You need to stop thinking before you give yourself an aneurysm, pretty thing, and I know just the place.”

Freddie wouldn’t be needed anymore that day. Maybe ever, if Rupert was to be believed. Freddie could just… Let go. There was a chance that Rupert would want him to be there, but if Freddie only did what Rupert told him, he’d stay put quietly in a closet until the old man had use for him. Therefore, and to spite Rupert if he actually called, he sneaked out of the building with the technician, who still avoided saying his name claiming that Freddie had had his moment to ask and that the moment was gone.

Freddie wanted… Freddie didn’t know what he wanted now, but he was on the verge of wanting to find a cliff, which was probably bad for his continued existence. Being alone now would be his worst decision to date, so he let himself be dragged away. The technician made inappropriate jokes and kept the self-destructive feelings at bay, so Freddie decided to cling to the man until he felt better or until he found something better to cling to.

They drove through New York like a pair of clueless tourists and they hit all the bars in what Freddie had named ‘A list of the most outrageous places’. It seemed like the technician knew his way around a good number of holes in the wall.

Once there was enough alcohol intaken, Freddie answered the Technician’s questions very easily. He had always been quite private about the family part of the business, and he had never spoken badly of it, but nothing had been the same after the winter collapse. The company had lost his respect; the family had lost his respect. And today Freddie’s career had crumbled down; sometime after the sixth drink he had realized that he didn’t really have any career to speak of. All his skill set was built around making Intenur work. He didn’t have a job description; he embodied all the spare parts of the well-tuned machine of Intenur. He was… a puppet, even though he was the spine of the company… the spine of the machine… maybe he should stop mixing metaphors, or drinks, maybe he should stop mixing drinks.

In between realizations, Freddie had decided that there was nothing to lose if he talked with the technician. He wouldn’t get into more trouble and he would finally get it off his chest, even if the man didn’t believe him, so he told the cheerful and rather handsome mysterious man about the project Rupert had in the works to create energy out of cold.

The man had laughed loudly enough to startle the other tables and the sound had pleased a petty and vindictive part of Freddie.

It was a senseless monstrosity called Productive Winters; a stupidity, of course, anyone with basic knowledge of thermodynamics would know it: it was a ruse to keep some clueless, idiot, brain-dead shareholders interested, but Freddie’s brother had wanted to put it into practice. Tim had been in charge of the company while Rupert was recovering from an eye operation in some spiritual retreat center. One of the mildly intelligent shareholders, Mr Ludwig, had suspected that the whole thing was a huge lie and Tim didn’t take kindly to being called a liar.

Freddie had been in charge of damage control. Mr Ludwig had been dealt with, but the problem was far from over. Both Rupertsons fought over the path to take and Freddie destroyed the project behind Tim’s back so it would never see the light of day and uncover Intenur as scammers or worse: idiots. In doing that, Freddie broke the shareholder’s trust and when Rupert found out, he ordered the PR department to make Freddie into the jealous villain who wanted more power in the company, to save face.

In that click-bait story that Rupert’s PR department fed to the newspapers, Tim was the magnanimous, kind brother who took Freddie in back again despite his ‘treason’. The story was heartwarming enough to save Intenur in the stock market and there was everybody’s happy ending. Freddie had been willing to sacrifice his public image to save the company, but he had never realized how much of himself he was giving away. Now he saw it as it was: a cage of his own making.

Intenur was the place where Freddie could live until he retired if only he submitted to Rupert’s rule. Only now, after decades of loyalty and sacrifice, did Freddie realize that he was considered chaotic and a liar in the larger world of business. Freddie had been pleased to take the burn of any problem in the company; it was not as if he would ever need to have references outside of Intenur. But now he had nowhere to go. He had built his own golden cage one bar at a time and Rupert had provided the tools all too happily.

His only chance of staying away from this was his mother. He could still try to find her wherever she had escaped from Rupert and beg forgiveness. She would receive him with open arms, but after years of defending his father and brother, Freddie couldn’t bring himself to concede defeat, the shame was too great.

The lack of flavor in his latest drink made Freddie realize that he had a bottle of water in his hand and that he had been complaining out loud. The technician was still next to him; he had two untouched colorful glasses in front of him and a boozed smirk. It took Freddie’s alcohol-filled brain a few seconds to realize that the man must have been the one to change the glass for the bottle of water, but the reason eluded Freddie.

The feeling must have shown on his face.

“Believe me, you will hate yourself tomorrow enough as it is. You don’t want to worsen your prospective hangover.”

Freddie took another sip of the bottle. They were in a nook away from prying looks. It was comfortable. He wasn’t sure of what he had said and what he had only thought, but the technician had a strange, mellow look, so the silent part had probably been very small. Freddie prided himself in knowing facial expressions, but he didn’t know enough about the man, and he couldn’t concentrate on his face beyond the basic features.

“Why don’t you try to work abroad, my emo friend?”

The technician had slipped an arm around his shoulders. Freddie didn’t even care when; he was very very focused on the face in front of him. He was going to read that face, he knew he could if he tried enough.

“It is not the job, it is me. If they don’t fire me, I’m leaving tomorrow.” He sighed. It had always been him, hadn’t it?

“From where I stand, it is them.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I do! I do I do! Who do you think sinks the market points in my company?” The technician seemed to be quite drunk too, he wouldn’t have shared anything personal otherwise. Freddie was watching the corner of his lips; there was a tell when people lied… or was that the corner of the eyes? It didn’t matter, because Freddie kept getting distracted with the rest of the lips. “A company I didn’t ask for, too! A goddamned company that has almost killed me more times than I care to count.”

“Yes, Intenur is killing me slowly too.”

“And all because I had to carry on some kind of legacy, stepping on the heads of giants or something like that. It is what my father used to say to the ladies when my mother wasn’t around.”

“Wait, you have a company,” Freddie said unwisely. “And it was your father’s.”

“Ok, story time. My father built the company…” The man slumped against his seat. “No, I don’t think I’m up for story time.”

“What?” Freddie realized that he had scooted closer, to listen. Not because the warmth was nice and distracting. “You must tell me something, I told you a lot of things, now you owe me.”

“Since when are stories currency?”

“Since I want them, and you want me to stay, so I will have my stories.” Freddie hung his head back, supported by the nook’s headrest and closed his eyes. He opened one of them in what he hoped was a discrete move. He was not sure he was being successful. The man had that drunken smirk and his eyes half-lidded, as if Freddie’s gesture had made him sleepy in turn.

“Spoiled brat. Have it your way.”

The man said something about a company, a step-father? a story that seemed made to fit an action script, and Freddie was not sure why he kept mentioning the son of Sten. Freddie didn’t know, and only half of it could be blamed on the soft buzz in his head; the bastard was being cagey on purpose. He had the feeling that something in his brain was demanding he pay attention. He knew that story b- What if he is a corporate spy? The thought had already crossed his mind a hundred times during the day when he decided to let the man help with the presentation. He had ruled it out because… because of logic at the time. Logic that was not currently accessible.

Even though he didn’t know exactly what the man was talking about, he got the feeling that he was sad and Freddie had something to do with it. Oh! He was telling Freddie something sad about his company, or his family, or both, because Freddie had made him sad too.

“Hmm. I had planned to celebrate with you, not this.” Freddie most definitely didn’t whine.

“Don’t look at me! I’m the party king! I’m never a sad drunk! It is all your faul-hmpfmm.”

Freddie only knew that he had finally seen the sadness behind the smiling lips, and he had decided that he didn’t like it. The man was sad, he was also sad and they could make each other less sad, so the only answer to that was a kiss, obviously. Obviously? Huh. There was something about two negatives floating in his head, but logic was still not available.

For a delightful moment he wasn’t thinking about anything but the sensation of the other man’s lips against his, the sweetness of his latest drink, the tickling of his beard… He plunged deeper into not thinking when the technician responded by pressing and holding his neck first with one hand, but then he moved to sit on his lap and cradled his nape. Nothing mattered now, especially not when he sneaked an arm around his waist and pulled them closer together.

The water bottle and the time listening to the man had helped to clear his head moderately, so his brain had enough presence to kick in when he felt the man’s hand pushing him away. He let it happen, not without regret. The technician looked regretful too; he was breathing deeply as if he could get rid of the desire in his chest that way.

“Look, let’s stop here. Because tomorrow this will be very… interesting, but if we end up in my room…”

“Mmno,” Freddie protested and hid his face in the other’s neck. He felt the jawbone and cheek against him pressing back. “If I don’t work there, you can go back to being the client tomorrow and this would mean nothing.”

The hand that had been on his neck was still over there playing with his hair. “I’m not going back either. I shouldn’t make decisions right now, but I’m thinking of poaching one of their workers and be done with them.”

Freddie’s smile couldn’t be seen from his position, but it was audible. “You are lucky I don’t work there anymore, or I would have destroyed you for saying that.”

“You still work there.”

“Not mentally, no.”

“You made up your mind, then?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, but whatever I do, it’s going to be easier to decide if I don’t go back to Intenur. Beyond that… No idea.”

“I know exactly what you are going to do.”

Freddie emerged from his hiding spot, regretting not being able to kiss that neck. “You think so?”

The man climbed off of Freddie’s lap, but he didn’t back away from his personal space.

“Go to sleep.” He leaned on the backrest, trapping Freddie’s arm. But Freddie didn’t mind keeping it around the tech’s waist. “And once you have slept the hangover away, you are going to call me.”

“You are very sure of yourself.”

“You would be too if you were in my place.”

“If I were in your place I wouldn’t have stopped this.”

“Yes, you would.” The tech called the waiter over and asked for a pen, then leaned against Freddie’s chest for balance and took to writing on his white shirt, left side, close to the collar.

“Are you going to pay for this when I take it to the cleaners?

“I’ll be happy to, because you’d have to call me for that. And you’d have to use this number.”

After a few numbers Freddie was not ready to guess by feeling alone, the man paused for a moment, squinted while looking at Freddie’s face and went back to his task, but higher, closer to his neck.

The silence while he wrote was meditative. Freddie could still draw circles with his thumb on the man’s hip and he still squirmed very sweetly.

“Maybe I could leave the country, as you said,” Freddie wondered aloud.

“Call me first,” the man mumbled while capping the pen. He waved over the same waiter, gave back the pen and paid before Freddie could protest.

“Maybe I could start my own company,” Freddie kept daydreaming.

“Call me first,” the man insisted. He got close to Freddie’s ear. “We have much to talk about.”

Freddie woke up only a few hours later with his mobile in his hand. First, an alarm. He dismissed it. Then there was a 5% battery warning in red. He dismissed it. When the warning closed, he squinted at a perfectly composed e-mail, addressed at Rupert, cc’d at Tim, where he told them that he was leaving Intenur in not the politest terms. It was unsent.

He thanked his luck and the version of himself that had been too tired or too out of it to send the mail (but not too tired to spell asinine). He would have hated waking up only to see that email marked as sent.

He pressed send.

It was much more satisfying to do it when he was going to keep the memory of doing it intact.

He found the charger cord that he had failed to use the previous night. The phone died just before he could plug it in, but it was better that way anyway. He had no desire to dodge family calls for hours.

He turned to leave the mobile on the nightstand and he hugged his pillow, ready for some lazy extra rest now that he didn’t have a job to go back to.

Before tiredness could do him in, his eyes fell on the shirt that he had taken off the previous night and had discarded on the floor by the bed. It was no longer prim and proper, and from where he was, he could see a few numbers, written just an inch below the collar. The memory of the last night and the technician brought a smile to his face that was almost enough to wake him up all the way.

He stretched one foot to drag the shirt from the floor, grab it and memorize the number, or maybe write it down somewhere, but once he had the fabric in his hands, he noticed that over the phone number, under the shirt’s collar, there was more. He could see a “R”. Finally, a name! He flipped the collar up.

“Ryan Stenson xxx”

He threw the shirt across the room and rolled the other way, groaning into his pillow.

#limited edition

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