#fixed now!

[wincaraz]

Jannik Sinner at the Miami Open 2026

[naye-et-cetera]

10x Mushishi | 蟲師

S01E26: Kusa o Fumu Oto | 草を踏む音.

[kroovv]

hello congrats on gravehearts release! on your itch.io page for the game it says "no ouji bored needed" but it's spelled "ouija board"

in the line "if you wish to stream" the T is missing in gravehearts

ah butts, thank you sm for letting me know!

[lux-et-astra]

I’ve got a story: Guilt, truth, and the pursuit of fact in The Sink

In Session Two of The Sink, the Narrator tells the audience “Underneath your dreams, swimming into focus, is the truth. [...] And we’ll find it.” This represents the desire shared by both the Narrator and the audience – to understand what actually happened and what the dreams actually mean. The pursuit of the truth is made difficult by The Sink’s story-within-a-story – that the Narrator is presenting dreams and old memories – and despite the Narrator’s assertion that “everything you dream is true” (Session Five, Intro), truth within dreams and even within memories is difficult to find.

It would be wrong to call Birdie an unreliable narrator, not least of all because she is explicitly not the narrator – that dubious title belongs to the Narrator herself, post-camping-trip Kate. However, aside from the introductions, interludes, and conclusions that Kate provides, the story is delivered, if indirectly, by Birdie. Her dreams are the basis of the story, and the clues and hints they reveal throughout The Sink are the audience’s main source of information for the characters of Kate and Birdie. Despite this, gleaning genuine information from the dreams can be seen as an exercise in futility. They are, unsurprisingly, dreamlike; the scenarios they present are fanciful and unrealistic, and often contradictory. There is only one scene presented as fact, the camping trip in Session Six; this is where the origin of one of The Sink’s major themes – Birdie’s guilt – is revealed to the audience. In addition, the final ‘story’ is told in this scene, showcasing Kate’s central obsession of using fire to triumph over wetness, which – as seen through the dreams – has also pervaded Birdie’s own life.

The camping trip scene, while not providing perfect clarity, is nonetheless presented as a memory of Birdie’s rather than a dream. Following Snakes and ladders and Sherbet, which both seem more grounded in reality than many of the previous dreams, the camping trip itself seems to have no fantastical elements. In fact the scene seems somewhat transformative – many other dreams are not simply included, but changed*; in the context of the camping trip, the truth they provide becomes clear. Beyond this quality of turning dreams into something more tangible and real, the fact of the camping trip scene being a memory rather than a dream also means that Birdie is present in a scene, for the first time, as herself.

Birdie’s absence from her own narrative as a result of her position as an audience stand-in is fully realised only in the camping trip scene. The use of the second person throughout The Sink is one of the ways it parodies sleep aids; the Narrator is talking directly to the audience. The central conceit of The Sink is that the dreams presented by the Narrator belong to the listener, and thus that the “you” to whom she is speaking is, in fact, the audience. The character to whom the dreams truly belong, and to whom the Narrator is actually speaking, therefore must be able to represent the audience, and so must have no character, no voice, no name**. In the memory of the camping trip, where the diegetic dialogue belongs only to Kate and then, eventually, to John and Jim, Birdie can be heard only through her heavy breathing. More details about her can only be constructed from her dreams – which are by their nature unreliable.

When trying to parse a backstory or narrative for Kate and Birdie, the best source is Session Six: the camping trip comes from Birdie’s memory, so it can be taken as truth; Kate speaks as herself; previous dreams have been changed to provide more context and truth of their own. In addition, the allusions to other dreams, like Kate’s “Ugh, it’s the best song in the world.” (Session Six, Forest) which immediately recalls “And she says… “this is the best song in the world.” And… it is.” (Session Five, Sherbet), allow truthful aspects to be identified even in dream sequences, opening up the entirety of The Sink as having the potential to provide further hints towards the characters of Kate and Birdie. Session Six reinforces ideas about Kate and Birdie that have been present throughout The Sink, such as referencing Kate’s grandparents, their swimming trips, and Kate’s obsession with fire – and shows the incident which sparked Birdie’s guilt.

Kate’s backstory is hinted at in scenes like Children in there and Sherbet, and expanded on in Session Six. Session Three’s Children in there depicts Peter Mansford, who lives with his grandmother, and who has a “weird shrivelled hand” from a fire which “didn’t kill him”, but “did maim him”. The narrator of Children in there declares, about Peter Mansford, “best not to annoy him”, a sentiment echoed by Birdie’s mother about Kate – “best not to annoy her” (Session Six, Forest). The conclusion can therefore be drawn that connections can be made between Peter Mansford and Kate. The details of a child living with their grandmother and having been maimed by a fire come up frequently enough to justify applying to Kate; to glean more details about her from Peter Mansford would perhaps risk over-extrapolating.

Sherbet (Session Five), while still a dream, is markedly more realistic than the majority of the dreams in The Sink; the “real laser gun action” is perhaps the only dreamlike facet to it at all. The narrator of Sherbet switches from using first to second person, evoking the language used by the Narrator to talk to the audience and to Birdie; this establishes the “her” in Sherbet as Kate, or as a representation of Kate, a corollary backed up by Kate’s mention of “the best song in the world” and the Feathers mother’s mention of “these litting swimming trips” in Session Six. The emphasis on the grandmother of the girl in Sherbet supports the picture already painted about Kate’s family and home life, and more than anything, this scene depicts the strength of the relationship between Kate and Birdie.

Beyond the textual implication that the girls’ lives revolve entirely around one another (“Because it – it was all a different life, after that.”), the scene juxtaposes the innocence of children and the purity of a childhood friendship with both darker and more mature imagery – some within the scene itself, some simply evoked through reference to the wider context of The Sink as a whole. The chronology of Sherbet is made particularly obvious through childlike language and details – “her grandma was giving you a lift to swimming”, “she has to lean across the middle seat bit, and open the door” – the description of having to be picked up to be taken to swimming, and then sitting in the backseat, creates a very clear image of childhood. The youth of the narrator in particular, representing Birdie, is also emphasised – “with your see-through dolphin bag with three dolphins on, bumping on your leg.” Even the setting of the swimming pool indicates youth, bringing to mind the earlier mentions of swimming in The Sink – Needs to dig in Session Three, for example, revolves around the actions of a child at the pool, and even Common moss in Session Four indicates the youth of the characters who end up in the water. The girl in the lake is repeatedly described as “little”, and Kelly, who also enters the lake, is a schoolchild.

Despite this emphasis on youth, Sherbet features almost sexual imagery. “She takes her hand, and puts a white earphone into your ear. With her hand, like, just… just putting it in your body.” The elaboration, “putting it in your body”, turns the action from a moment of childhood camaraderie to an act of penetration. This mimics Kate’s later actions in Session Six – she not only copies this action of sharing headphones, but takes her ownership of Birdie’s body further in attempting to self-immolate together. Sherbet is recounted before Session Six, and so this intrusion on Birdie’s body stands on its own, perhaps as a hint of what is to come. Kate’s words in Sherbet are emphasised by their nature as direct speech, in contrast to the reported thoughts and actions of Birdie, and her final words in the scene – “it’s not very dry” – are not only emphatically positioned but act almost as a punchline, linking Sherbet to the rest of The Sink, and immediately bringing to mind the wet/dry and fire imagery threaded through the entire drama. Contrasting the innocence of youth with the horror and fear evoked in the previous dream scenes shows how Kate’s presence corrupts Birdie’s childhood. The symbolic death suggested by the loss of innocence is supported by the description of Birdie’s thoughts on meeting Kate – “is the last moment you’ll, sort of, be alive.”

More details about Birdie and Kate’s lives are almost impossible to determine – it could be argued that this is because Birdie does not know them. Her guilt over what happened to Kate is palpable, present in so many of her dreams and encouraged by the Narrator – “Let’s try and forget all about that bad guilty business. Let’s forget about what you did.” (Session Four, Intro), however it’s also clear that Birdie does not know what happened to Kate. The Narrator is constantly pushing her to remember – “You just have to remember what happened. [...] This is about what happened. You have to remember it, or you’ll never be free.” (Session Six, Intro). Even Birdie’s dreams challenge her memories – “You never remember.” (Session One, Birdman), “Where is she?” (Session Three, Sand), “They don’t remember. You don’t remember.” (Session Three, Psychic). She is searching for the truth, just as the Narrator is searching for the truth, and just as the audience is searching for the truth.

The Sink concludes with the result of the search for the truth – the recovery of Birdie’s memory of the camping trip. The recounting of this incident in Session Six gives more details about what happened to Birdie than to Kate – Jim asks “are you burnt?” (Session Six, Forest), suggesting that she has suffered some measure of physical harm. Her inability to answer questions can be explained through a Watsonian lens as a response to shock and through a Doylist lens as a necessary measure to maintain her status as an audience surrogate – however, it can also be interpreted as the precursor to her struggles with memory and the suppression of the incident in her mind. The details on what happened to Kate, in contrast, are sparse, and delivered only though Kate’s cries for help and exclamations. She says “Help me! No, come on – ah, it’s trapped, it’s my foot.” (Session Six, Forest), demands for Birdie not to leave her, and after a splash, screams “No! Come back!” (Session Six, Forest).

Kate evidently did not die in the forest. Somehow, she ended up in a position to be the Narrator, to be handling “nanomesh sleep technology” (Session One, Intro), to be speaking directly to Birdie and yet to be unrecognisable. It’s clear that her foot was trapped, and given that Birdie was burnt by a far shorter exposure to the fire, it’s safe to suggest that Kate likely also suffered burns from her experience. A point of contention, however, is the splash. It is unclear on the cause of the splash, other than that it likely relates to the lake, which is mentioned not only in Common moss, but also in Session Six itself – Kate says “if we sleep by the lake, tonight”, hinting at their proximity to the lake. Sherbet suggests that the girls are both able swimmers, though Kate obviously has an aversion to being wet – “It was all wet and covering everything, and it made all… everything cold, and heavy, and dark.” (Session Six, Forest). It is therefore difficult to say whether the splash was caused by Birdie entering the lake, or Kate.

Kate’s aversion to being wet is not the only argument for why it may have been Birdie in the lake. The end of Common moss, a segment which is partly repeated in Session Six, features a man telling (presumably) Birdie to exit the pool. In addition, the Watsonian logic of Birdie attempting to not only escape a fire by dousing herself in water, but also to escape Kate by going where she would be unlikely to choose to go, creates a compelling narrative. These arguments, however, are somewhat flimsy. Firstly, to ascribe intention to a character is a flawed exercise; within media, events do not occur because the characters choose to enact them. Secondly, the repetition of the man instructing Birdie to get out of the pool exists within a wider context than simply instructing Birdie to leave the water. The man speaking is first found in Session Three, Needs to dig, where the child in the pool who is being discussed “wants it all to be dry so it can be a fire.” The stronger link is not to Birdie, but to Kate. While the exhortation at the end of Common moss is indeed to a character who more closely represents Birdie than Kate, it comes after a scene wherein Kelly is told of a “little girl” whom “no one could find” (Session Four, Common moss). Kelly proceeds to enter the lake on the express purpose of finding this girl – she attempts to find a girl lost in the water.

It can be argued that Birdie’s guilt, expressed through her dreams, does contain grains of truth, and can in fact provide a clearer picture of what happened on the camping trip. Common moss is one such example. Birdie’s fear and guilt manifests in a dream where a girl is lost, not only in the forest, but specifically in the lake. A similar guilt is evoked in Kidleys, where Megan is brought in due to “a flooded radiator? [...] it’s wet, horrible” (Session Four, Kidleys). The protagonist of the dream is concerned for her friend and grateful when she discovers that her friend will live – and despite the fact that her friend is much transformed and almost unrecognisable, the root problem is indicated to be related to water. In other cases, Birdie’s guilt seems to revolve simply around “what [she] did”, (Session One, Beanie hag), or the fact that she doesn’t know what happened to Kate, as in Psychic or Sand.

In contrast, when Birdie dreams of fire, it is often presented as an event in the past, or something which has less of an effect than would perhaps be expected. The first reference to fire in The Sink is a reference to a past event – “his car had been in that fire.” (Session One, Cat ashes). Obsession with fire continues as a theme – “She won’t stop until it’s all a fire.” (Session Three, Needs to dig), “Peter Mansford was also staring out at the fire”, “The fire consumes you and the Minotaur feasts on your bones.” (Session Three, Children in there). In Children in there, it’s implied that Peter Mansford has previously been in a fire, however the house fire present to the story does not affect him. Parents’ race suggests that the chick was born all boiled up, and that it was “white and boiled” from the very beginning. Even in Huff and puff, where Jess says “The fire consumed him, and feasted on his bones.” (Session Four, Huff and puff), it is the big bad bird who is destroyed by fire. The smallest pig's fate is never revealed. Jess says “sometimes it’s better, when they don’t come back”, a sentiment echoed by Kate in Session Six – “they knew that sometimes, it’s better when people don’t come back.”

Birdie’s guilt over Kate is based on the fact that she does not know what happened to her, that she feels guilty for what she did, and that she lost Kate in the forest, perhaps even in the lake. She does not seem to feel guilt for Kate suffering in the fire in the forest. While this could be because she has seemingly repressed the memory of the camping trip – specifically the fire, given that her dreams of John and Jim are continually cut off before they can reach “Oh – fire!” (Session Six, Forest) – echoes of the camping trip seem to be present in her dreams in other ways, such as Sonic the Hog’s stuck boot, or the significant theme of the Birdman. The narrator of Children in there is the one told that the fire will “consume” them, and although the bird imagery is at times difficult to parse, this can be followed through to suggest that in Huff and puff, the “big bad bird” that is “consumed” by the fire represents Birdie, and the smallest pig, who simply never comes back, represents Kate. Knowing Kate’s obsession with fire, and her ultimate goal to self-immolate with Birdie, it is perhaps safe to say that Birdie does not feel guilt over the fact that Kate may have suffered in the fire – but that she feels more guilt over the fact that Kate, who hates to be wet, fell into the lake.

The Sink is engaging because it presents a mystery to be solved, a truth to be uncovered. To interpret the dreams into something resembling fact often feels like a stretch, however I would argue that by comparing similar segments and referring to the scenes presented as fact, some measure of truth can be derived. Birdie underwent a symbolic death when she met Kate as children, and her life changed forever. Her life changed again when she was – perhaps more metaphorically than literally – consumed by fire in their camping trip. Her guilt revolves around Kate, whom she couldn’t save; she sees herself as responsible for her loss. Perhaps the revelation of the truth, that it was Kate’s own actions that led to the incident in the forest, and that Kate herself is still alive, would assuage Birdie’s guilt. The conclusion does not offer healing or closure. Instead, like any myth or legend – like any good mystery – it simply begins again.***

Appendix

* Parents’ race in Session Six is markedly different from Session Four. (Emphasis mine.)

“The chick had been boiled, in the egg! He was boiled up, all his feathers were white and boiled.” – Session Four, Parents’ race

“The chick, it had been boiled in the egg. She was all boiled up. The feathers were white and boiled. Sometimes they’re just born too hot, there’s nothing you can do! If you’re born all boiled up like that. You can’t change it. When people are born all boiled up, all hot, or just different, you know, it’s not your fault, but if you don’t stay away, well –” – Session Six, Forest

Sand ends differently between Session Three and Session Six.

“So, you know, happy ending, lovely stuff! It’s just peace of mind, really.” – Session Three, Sand

“Lovely stuff, no one needs to call the police. Not until it becomes clear that someone’s gone missing. Uh oh, where’s she gone? Uh oh! Where’d you last see her? Cause they’re gonna start asking lots of questions, aren’t they? They’re going to ask you – they’re going to ask you if you could have done anything to stop it.” – Session Six, Forest

Feathers has had significantly more added to it, between its original dialogue in Session Two and its reappearance in Session Six.

“Love? [...] You going out then, are you? [...] I just – I just, uh…” – Session Two, Feathers

“Love, are you in there? You going out then, are you? I don’t want you to just be… doing things because… other girls have told you to do it. Alright? Don’t do anything… just because someone’s telling you. Alright? Just because… that girl is telling you to. Sweetheart, just… these little swimming trips, and camping trips, and little… obviously it’s lovely that you’ve – that you’ve got a friend. But sweetheart… I don’t know about that girl. It’s nice she gets out, obviously boring for her, just… just with her grandma and grandad, but… people say things, darling. Her little games. Little stories. What happened in the swimming pool, it’s just… it’s nice you like her, but she’s… she’s not quite right, is she love? It’s best not to annoy her. Alright love? It’s best not to annoy her.” – Session Six, Forest

Two other scenes which repeat in Session Six, Kidleys and Needs to dig/Common moss, are also changed from their original appearances to provide more context. Bearings and All that jazz, however, remain unchanged. Sonic the Hog has only a few words’ difference. Cat ashes, Children in there, Huff and puff, and Sherbet are represented in Session Six initially only by their opening lines, “I’ve got a story”, which remain unchanged; later, more of their dialogue is repeated, the majority of which is identical to their original appearances in their respective Sessions.

** The post-session of Session Six credits Natasha Hodgson as Kate. Jim’s name is confirmed in the memory in Session Six – “Look, Jim! Look! Out there!” (Session Six, Forest) – suggesting that his and John’s names are not simply a facet of Birdie’s dreams. Nowhere else, outside of the dreams, is anyone referred to by name. ‘Birdie’ is a created name used to describe the audience surrogate character, drawn from Kate’s assertion that she is “the best [bird] anyway” (Session Six, Forest). Interestingly, Mr Forsyth is mentioned in two separate dreams: “It’s not, it’s what Mr Forsyth said.” (Session Four, Common moss), “We were helping Mr Forsyth with Year 4” (Session Four, Huff and puff).

*** The Sink is written by Natasha Hodgson, and produced and sound designed by Andy Goddard. It starred Alice Lowe as the Narrator, Natasha Hodgson as Kate, with Jason Forbes, Celeste Dring, and David Elms. The music was written by David Cumming. The executive producer was Victoria Lloyd. It was a BBC Studios production for BBC Sounds. (Session Six, Postsession)

[namelessghoulsinnamon]

I'M A DUMBASS AND FORGOT TO TURN ON ANON OOPS

[thestalwartheart]

00Q - Semi-NSFW 22. … trying to play footsie with the other during a meeting

This was such a hysterical prompt, thank you! 😂 I apologise for the delay in getting around to it.

You can read the fill under the cut or on AO3. Enjoy!

ire.

Q isn’t angry. He isn’t.

He’s furious.

Evidently, everyone gathered around the heavy mahogany conference table can see it because all of them have averted their eyes. Except for one person, of course. The very person who sparked his ire in the first place. As he keeps his eyes level with Bond’s highly-amused gaze, Q thinks about the man’s poker advice. You never play your hand, Q. Always play the person across from you.

“Sir, if I may. That car has cost the department four and a half million pounds so far. It contains some of the most cutting-edge experimental weaponry my department has ever developed. If you recall, the last time Bond took one of my cars on a mission—”

“I was chasing down a terrorist group with even more terrifying experimental technology,” Bond interrupts.

Mallory levels them both with a look. He’s tired; that much is evident. Q has a feeling he and Bond are only adding to the man’s perennial aura of exhaustion.

“I’m sorry, Q, but I’ll need the car reassigned to 007.”

“009 is scheduled for Barcelona tomorrow—”

“And 007 is to be in Paris today. Reassign the car, Quartermaster.”

“Fine,” snaps Q, closing his folder of repair receipts and sitting back in his seat.

Q misses a lot of what gets said next, not that it matters much. It’s something dreadfully boring about a policy being driven through the House of Commons, the details of which Q is already very well-acquainted with. His ears are too busy ringing with the sound of his own pulse. Even worse, he can feel the heat high on his cheeks where he’s sure he’s tomato-red. Distantly, he remembers his doctor’s stern warning from his last check-up: If that blood pressure doesn’t come down, you’re going to have a stroke by the time you’re forty. Q had been keen to get that in writing so he could show Bond just how much havoc he’s been wreaking all these years. Regrettably, the doctor only looked at Q over a pair of wire-framed glasses and tutted at him about eating more vegetables and avoiding cholesterol.

Well, bollocks to that. Q takes a butter-laden pastry from the middle of the table and tears into it.

Four and a half million pounds, surely down the drain now. The last time Bond had wasted this much money, Q was called into an internal review whose findings were passed on to the bloody PM. Q had protected Bond then, saying some very nice things about the value of agents and the worth of human life, not to mention all the impossible circumstances agents face in the field. If he ends up in another review because of this, he’s going to throw Bond under the bus this time. The man probably has enough of his hazard pay stashed away to pay for the repairs himself.

While he’s thinking of that — both the possibility of emptying Bond’s bank accounts and watching him slide oil-stained and casually dressed underneath an Aston Martin — he feels a touch at his ankle. It only lasts a moment, and he assumes Tanner, who is still occasionally levelling apologetic glances at him about the car, is to blame. But a moment later, the touch is back. It lasts longer this time, making its way slowly up his trouser leg.

Across the table, Bond’s lip firms itself ever so slightly, as if it’s trying very hard not to curl into a smile.

Oh, absolutely not.

With a decisive, abrupt snap, Q pulls his leg back and watches as Bond’s body jerks a bit, trying to find equilibrium. Mallory pauses halfway through a sweary sentence about the never-ending red tape of government.

“Are you all right, 007?”

“Fine, Sir. Carry on.”

The rest of the meeting is uneventful, and when it’s all over, Q wipes a few stray croissant crumbs from his trousers, shoulders his bag, and strides out of the room, all with far more force than he might usually do.

Bond, of course, follows. With every step they take towards Q Branch, the prickly outrage in Q’s chest grows. He isn’t one of the nurses in medical, nor is he one of the secretaries who do a terrible job of guarding confidential documents against prying eyes (honestly, he’d managed to get one fired after he’d come home to find Bond sprawled on his couch, calling Q by his real name).

No, Q stands for Quartermaster, and he won’t be charmed into forgetting that by James fucking Bond.

“If your intent was to flirt your way to a luxury car—”

“I already have the car,” interrupts Bond, quite calmly, as they turn into the tea room.

“Then, if your intent was to distract me from your plans to wreck it, it didn’t work. My memory is excellent, 007. I remember the Jaguar I gave you two weeks ago, and the BMW before that. Not to mention the DB10 you drove into the Tiber.”

“For which I bought you a lovely bottle of champagne.”

“For stealing it, not for wrecking it. That leaves two million, nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, two-hundred and ninety-five pounds on your bill, at least.” Q flicks on the kettle more viciously than he intends. “Am I to expect a briefcase full of cash or a cheque? I’m afraid I don’t accept games of footsie as currency.”

Bond huffs a laugh, and Q tries to quiet the part of his brain that finds that endearing. When Bond speaks again, he’s standing right behind Q. Their blazers brush together, which is all a bit much, to be honest. “If I promised not to wreck the DBS, will you let me away with it in our next meeting?”

Q lets out a derisive snort. “If you manage to bring back that car in one piece, I’ll let you blow me under the bloody desk.”

There’s a beat of silence where they both register that. Q yearns to take it back, if only because it’s probably hinted at the very real desire he has to fuck Bond. Or be fucked by him. Or both. On days like this, it’s hard to imagine which would bring better stress relief. He decides to let it be. It’s out there now; silence and denial are the only defences he has left.

When he next looks at Bond, he’s expecting him to look a bit shut off, in that way most heterosexual men look when they’ve just been propositioned, however flippantly, by a gay man. Instead, Bond’s eyes look him up and down with intent, which — oh, Christ — is far more arousing than it should be. So either Bond is a consummate actor, or—

“A word of warning, Quartermaster.” Bond leans in close enough that Q swears he can feel the touch of lips at his ear. “Never make a bet you’re not prepared to lose.”

Content with having the last word, Bond swans out of the room.

"Shit." Q turns to look at the little cat statue next to the kettle. "Well, I'm not, am I? Going to lose, that is. I bet he's already punctured a bloody tyre."

The cat remains still and ceramic. And for the next few hours, Q tries exceptionally hard not to think how Bond might use his mouth for things more pleasurable than a bout of verbal sparring in the tea room.

[louistomlinsoncouk]

Louis singing Night Changes on stage at the Away From Home Festival 2022 - 27/8