#I’m just going to continue to assume it’s for recycling

[grunge-mermaid]

Me: what is this feature for?

Google: BUY SHIT NOW! BUY EVERYTHING!!!

Me: but you haven’t answered my question???

google: YOU MUST CONSUME!

[captainremmington-13]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

show!Luke Castellan x daughter of thanatos!reader

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the image above or any of Rick Riordan’s characters/world-building.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: swearing, mentions of death, making out (not NSFW), a small argument, mention of a sexual joke but it’s not even actually said

A/N: this may be my favorite chapter so far

“I…I think you’ve got the hang of it, angel.”

“Yeah,” you laughed under your breath, wiping the sweat from your forehead. “Me too.”

You were standing in a clearing in the middle of the woods, at least a half-mile from any civilization. You were surrounded by shrubs, flowers, and grass, all of which you’d killed just by extending your hand and wiling it to die. 

It had been two days since you’d first discovered this new ability. You and Luke had made it to Nevada without many problems, only encountering a few weak monsters during the train ride. You were more concerned with figuring out the powers that had randomly appeared.

Luke had been nothing but supportive. He continued to prove himself as your greatest ally, and an incredible boyfriend. 

He had lead you to the quiet spot in the woods where you currently resided, doing his best to give you pointers regarding how to experiment with your powers. Neither of you had any idea what you were doing, but you assumed that if you were careful enough, you’d be fine. 

And you were. You’d successfully gotten a grip on your ability, which you’d nicknamed “the death thing”. You knew that you had to channel some form of extreme emotion for it to work, whether it was anger, fear, or hatred. 

If you could control those feelings, you could control your powers. 

Luke walked towards you, a small smile on his face. He gave you a quick kiss, and handed you a bottle of Gatorade. 

“I’m so proud of you, angel.” 

You grin, taking a big gulp of the energy drink. “Thanks. Honestly, I’m pretty proud of myself too. I almost passed out the first couple of times, but I realized that if I don’t overcompensate and channel more of my power than is required, I’ll be fine.”

Luke rubbed your back gently, and took the Gatorade bottle once you were done drinking. He finished it quickly, and placed it back in his backpack. “I’ll recycle this later,” he said, most likely to himself. It was an adorable habit he had, talking to himself to ensure that he remembered things.

“So,” you leaned down and grabbed your own backpack, along with your weapon. “Back to traveling?“

Luke nodded. “Yeah, but there’s no public transport that’s going directly to where we need to be. So…”

You smiled, linking arms with him. “Let me guess. You’re gonna steal us a car.” 

“Right as always, baby.”

You blushed, looking up at your boyfriend. Somehow he was cute and insanely fucking hot at the same time. You knew that he would tease you for getting flustered, but you didn’t mind. 

After all, when you did something he found attractive, he would get just as lovesick. 

So it all evened out eventually. 

.

.

.

Thanks to his knack for thievery, Luke managed to steal a nice Mercedes-Benz. You made yourself comfortable in the passengers seat, flipping your boyfriend off when he called you a passenger princess. 

“You’re the only one out of us two who can drive, Castellan,” you said snarkily, popping a piece of candy in your mouth. “Unless you wanna let me drive without having any practice, you’re gonna be the designated chauffeur.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but leaned over to give you a kiss. Thankfully, the light was red, or else you would’ve definitely ended up in a car wreck. 

“You’re lucky I love you so much, angel,” he said, giving your thigh an affectionate pat. “I wouldn’t let anyone else boss me around like that.”

You giggled, placing your hand over his, which still rested on your upper leg. “I’m honored to be the only person who can give you orders.” 

He smiled cockily. “You should be.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re so arrogant sometimes, you know?“

“At leadt it’s warranted,” he replied, speeding up the vehicle slightly. “I mean, I am pretty fucking awesome.” 

“You sound like a dork.”

He snorted. “Okay, how else am I supposed to word it?”

“Maybe something more like ‘I’m an insanely good swordsman and a dangerously hot individual.’ It’s more obnoxious, but at least it’s not as awkward-sounding.”

Luke smirked, his lips curling upwards. “Dangerously hot, hm? I can imagine you drooling over me internally. I wouldn’t mind you doing it externally, though-“

“Castellan!” you shrieked, slapping him on the arm. “What the fuck has gotten into you?”

Your reaction only made his expression more smug. “I could make a very dirty joke, but I have a feeling you’d throw me out of the car if I did.”

You shook your head, avoiding his intense gaze to attempt to subdue the heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’re impossible.”

“You love me, though.”

“Yeah, I do, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?”

“I’m kidding, Castellan. You know that I love you, and only you.”

Luke’s grip on your thigh tightened slightly, sending a warm shock through your body.

“That’s much better.” 

________________________________________________

Several hours of driving later, you and Luke were sprawled out in the roomy trunk of the Mercedes-Benz. It was wide enough that both of you could lie down without feeling too cramped. A couple blankets covered you both, insulating the body heat you radiated.

“Luke?” you whispered softly. “You still awake?”

You heard him groan quietly, and roll over to face you. 

“Yeah, angel, what d’you need?” 

Maybe it was the sleepiness getting to you, but you practically melted at his caring words. “You’re not close enough to me.”

He let out a short laugh, and immediately placed a hand on the small of your back, pulling you flush against his chest. “That better?”

“Mhm,” you murmured, your body finally relaxing now that you were in his arms. 

“You ok?” he asked, stroking your hair softly. “I know today was a long day, I’m sure you’re exhausted.” 

“I am,” you replied. “But it was worth it. I can finally stop freaking out about the death thing. I’m just concerned that the other campers are gonna start seeing me as a monster again once they find out about it.”

“I doubt that your closer friends will,” Luke said reassuringly. “I know for sure that Annabeth and Chris will treat you the same.”

“I suppose,” you said. “I’m still gonna try to avoid using the death thing when I can. It’s pretty safe at camp, there should be no reason to use it.” 

“Makes sense. And if anyone gives you shit about it, let me know. I’ll mess them up real good, I promise.”

You smiled, bring your face closer to his. He cupped your cheek, and pressed his lips with yours. The kiss was slow but heated, and you could feel the romantic tension rising rapidly. Luke’s hands, which were calloused and slightly rough from years of training, slipped under your tank top, rubbing circles on your back with his fingers. It felt so fucking good. The combination of his soothing touch and his soft lips, which were now placing kisses on your jawline and neck, was practically driving you insane. 

Luke let out a quiet sigh, moving his hands down to grip your waist gently. He pulled his mouth away from your neck to whisper, “Is this okay?”

You nodded quickly. “Please, please don’t stop.”

Luke immediately resumed kissing your neck, moving down to your collarbone. Your hand wandered towards his hair, running your fingers through his curls. 

For what seemed like hours, you and Luke exchanged kisses and loving touches. You swore that nothing, not even the Isle of the Blest, could make you this happy.

Finally, you felt your eyelids get heavy, and your mind become fuzzier and slower. When he noticed this, Luke removed his lips from your skin. They were slightly swollen, but as pretty as ever. 

“Time for sleep, angel,” he said lovingly, pulling the blanket tighter around your bodies. “If you have nightmares, don’t hesitate to wake me up, ok?”

You hummed in agreement. Snuggling closer to Luke, you closed your eyes and let out a deep sigh. 

“G’night, Luke. Love you.“

“Love you too, angel.”

________________________________________________

At the crack of dawn, you and Luke were on the road again. You only had about a day left of travel before you reached the Garden. 

As you finally crossed the California border, you decided it was time to start brainstorming a plan to steal a golden apple. Winging it would be a stupid idea, especially because of the fearsome guardian that protected the magical tree.

“We could create a diversion,” you suggested. “I’ll distract the dragon, and you get the apple. Then, we flee before we get our faces melted off.”

“No,” Luke said firmly. “You’re not putting yourself in that much danger by dealing with a full-grown dragon.” 

“Luke, I can handle it. Besides, I can fly, I can lead it away from-“

“You can’t out-fly Ladon. He’s incredibly fast, you’ll be killed within minutes.”

You huffed. “Why does everything in our lives have to be so damn complicated?”

Luke reached out to grasp your hand. “Angel, I understand where your frustration is coming from, trust me. But let’s try to focus on the task at hand, so we can come up with a rational plan.”

You averted your eyes from him, feeling slightly embarrassed at your small outburst. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Luke said, keeping your hands entwined. “I think it would be best for me to be the distraction. I’ll deal with the Hesperides and Ladon. Try to have a friendly conversation with them, pretending to just be interested in admiring the tree. Then, as soon as I see that you have the apple, we’ll retreat.”

“That sounds like a decent idea,” you said. “But what if we can’t retreat fast enough?”

“Then we fight.”

“I don’t like our odds. Besides, it would make Zeus and Hera very angry.”

“Since when did you care about how they felt?”

“I don’t! I just don’t want their wrath to get us killed, that’s all.”

“Fair enough.“

There was silence for a few moments, as you both struggled to come up with a better solution.

Then, you spoke.

“I’ll teleport us out of there.”

Luke let out a short bark of laughter. “Good one, angel.“

“I’m not joking. I did some research a couple months back, and my fath-I mean Thanatos can teleport. That’s how he gets around the world so quickly to collect souls. I think that if I try hard enough, I can-“

“No!” Luke snapped, making you recoil slightly. His face softened immediately, his expression molding into one of guilt. “I’m sorry, angel, I didn’t mean to yell. I just…I don’t want you dying because of a quest Hermes sent us on. You deserve to live a full life, and if it got cut off because of me-“

“Okay, okay,” you cut him off, looking down at your feet. “I get it. Forget I mentioned it.”

Luke sighed. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out like that.” 

“It’s fine. I know you just want me to be safe.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But I’ll try to keep my temper under control. I don’t ever wanna take my anger out on you.”

“Me neither,” you admitted. “Especially since I know it can have some really dangerous consequences.” You rested a hand on his forearm, looking at him lovingly. “I promise I’ll try my best to avoid getting hurt, but you better keep yourself out of trouble too.” 

Luke laughed, giving you a teasing smile that made your heart flutter. “Is that a threat?”

“Maybe.”

“You don’t need to threaten me to get me to listen to you, baby.“

“Oh I know,” you replied, giving him a playful grin of your own. “All I have to do is bat my eyelashes and give you a pleading look, and I have you wrapped around my little finger.”

Luke’s cheeks turned a pale shade of pink, making you smile wider. “Where’d you learn that from?“

“Lola and Layla from the Aphrodite cabin. They’ve promised to teach me all their tricks eventually.”

He huffed. “You’re gonna be the death of me one day, you know that?”

You giggled, resting your head back against the headrest of the car seat. “At least you’ll die happy then.”

Luke chuckled, glancing at the sign overhead that read 300 miles to San Francisco. 

“Yeah, I’m sure I will.”

taglist: @orionspaperwork, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @marvelescvpe, @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry, @louweasleymalfoy, @stars4birdie, @stargurl-battleship, @daughterofthemoons-stuff

Thank you for reading! Pls let me know what you think in the comments!!!

Ok so I decided against adding another monster fight in this chapter, I just REALLY wanted to write fluffy stuff instead💀💀I promise there will be more action in the next installment

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist!

[q-gorgeous]

Local Traditions

fanfiction

ao3

word count: 2026

Amity Park has a lot of strange local traditions that baffle outsiders.

phic phight lets gooo

“Why did we come back here?”

“Come on, Parker. We’re finally gonna catch us some ghosts in this city.”

Parker followed slowly behind him. “I thought you said this wasn’t the place we were looking for? And we weren’t able to get anywhere near any of the ghosts. What would make this time any different, Don?”

Don turned around with a big smile on his face. “Because we’re gonna start how we should’ve started in the first place. We just came in assuming we were gonna be able to find a ghost to capture without knowing what any of the patterns are. Where the ghost attacks happen, how often, which ghosts are attacking.”

He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and shook it around. “We’re going to observe first and then make a plan on how we’re going to capture our ghosts. This time I’m sure we’ll get it.”

Parker shook his head. “What are we starting with?”

Don continued walking down the sidewalk. “We’re going to observe what the residents are doing in relation to the ghosts. They’re gonna know best the patterns of the ghosts. Which ones are a danger and which ones they don’t have to worry about.”

“Okay. We’re going to use this to try to predict when a ghost attack will happen?” Parker asked.

“Yes. Exactly.” Don pointed at someone stepping outside of their house. “There’s someone now! Observe.”

This person who had just exited the house was carrying a cardboard box. They were sure they were taking the box to the recycling bin, but instead it was placed in the grass by their garage. Parker and Don waited until they made their way back instead before they headed across the street to see what was in the box. 

Parker knelt down and started rummaging through it. “We have a box of… Smaller boxes? Bubble wrap, sandwiches, and.. A single left shoe? What is this?”

“Maybe-” Don was cut off when a booming voice started talking behind them. 

“Beware!” He shouted. “I am the box ghost! And how dare you, foolish humans, plan to steal my offerings!” 

“Offerings?” Don asked. “People give offerings to the ghosts?”

“The people of this town understand how powerful and terrifying I am! With my sharp corrugated corners and the booming pops of my bubble wrap! They offer me items in exchange for me not releasing my wrath on this little mortal city!” 

Don and Parker exchanged a look together before looking back at the ghost. The ghost stared at them for a few more moments.

The ghost blinked at them.

“I am the box ghost!” 

He suddenly grabbed the box out of Parker’s hands and flew away, disappearing in between the buildings of the city. 

Don opened his notebook and wrote out the box ghost’s name. “He must be a powerful ghost if they’re offering him things in exchange for him not attacking them.”

“I think he’s annoying.” Parker said.

“Let’s go observe more things. This is a good start.” 

They were walking down another street when they caught a whiff of something. 

Parker groaned. “What is that smell? It smells like a sweaty cookie.” 

“I actually think it smells like gym socks and snickerdoodles.” Don said, scrunching up his nose. 

“I think it might be coming from that house over there.” Parker pointed at a blue house. Outside, a teenager was spraying something on the bushes outside their windows. 

They walked up to the boy. Don smiled at him. “That sure is some pesticide. We could smell it from all the way over there.”

The boy’s eyes lit up. “Glad you caught the smell. It’s my cologne, Foley. By Tucker Foley.”

Parker's eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up. “Why are you spraying cologne all over your bushes?”

“Gentlemen.” Tucker walked over to them. “Have you ever wanted a cost effective ghost repellent that also acts as the most womanizing cologne ever? The Fenton’s make all sorts of equipment and weapons, but most of them are not for public sale. And if they are, they’re very expensive! Foley by Tucker Foley is only a fraction of the cost! And it works just as well as a ghost shield!” 

He leaned forward. “If you’re interested, I can even give you a deal. Two for the price of one. Or half off a gallon bucket with a pesticide wand. What do you say?” 

“Sorry, but I don’t think pesticide cologne is really my thing.” Parker said. 

Don was busy scribbling in his notebook. “How did you discover this mix of ingredients was a ghost repellent?”

Tucker puffed out his chest with the proudest look on his face. “Lucky shot. Got it on my first try. Discovered it when the school got infected by ghost mosquitoes. It works on regular mosquitoes too, if that convinces you at all.”

“This is how they got rid of the mosquitoes?” Parker whispered to Don. “Weird.”

“Thank you for all this information. Maybe we’ll have to think on it and come back. Have a nice day!” 

“You’re not serious are you?” Parker gaped at Don. “This kid’s cologne is probably just so rank that the ghosts wanted to get as far away from it as possible. I can’t believe people are spraying it outside their houses. That’s probably what I’ve been smelling this whole time.” 

“We’re observing, Parker.” Don looked at him. “We could get the cologne and compare it to the Fenton’s anti-ecto weapons.”

Parker shook his head. “Anyways. We’ve been at this for awhile, should we head and get some grub? I’m getting hungry.” 

“Sure. I could go for some food. You up to burgers? I saw some place called the Nasty Burger and it looked kinda cool.”

“That name does not bode well for us.” Parker typed the name into his phone. “Let’s go.” 

It was busy when they got to the Nasty Burger. They walked inside and saw that the line was long. As they walked through the building towards the end of the line, they couldn’t help but notice one strange delicacy that everyone seemed to have on their tray. 

“What are they eating? Roses?” Parker leaned forward to whisper in Don’s ear. “That’s so strange. What a weird item for a fast food place to carry.”

“Sam, you have to go get my food for me. I can’t go up to the counter.”

“You just don’t want to order for yourself.”

“No, Sam. The flowers! It’s flower friday.”

“Flower friday?” Don questioned. 

“Fine. Just go save our spot. Tucker can order when he gets here.”

“Next!” The cashier called. Don walked up to the counter.

“Hi! Can we get two mighty meaty cheesy melt meals?”

She punched their order into the register. “Anything else?”

“No, thank you! That’ll be all.”

She hit another button and looked back up to them. “Your total is $14.77. Would you like a complimentary blood blossom with that?”

“A what?” Parker frowned at the name. 

She looked at them like they were dense. “A complimentary blood blossom. It’s an edible flower with anti-ghost properties. Eating them helps ward against overshadowing.”

“Uh..” Don hesitated. “Sure. We’ll try some.”

They paid her and she printed their receipt out. “Your order will be ready soon. You can wait over there to pick it up when it’s done.”

“Thank you.” 

“This town is strange.” Parker’s eyes widened as a realization came over him. “If all these people are developing their own ecto-signatures, do you think they’ll ever get to the point where they won’t be able to consume these blood blossoms anymore?” 

Don’s eyes opened wide and he turned to face Parker. “That’s such a good question. I don’t even know.”

The girl who was behind them in line laughed as she was talking to the cashier.

“Sorry, no blood blossoms for us today, Valerie. You know how Danny’s allergies are. He won’t even order his own food on flower Friday’s.” 

Valerie barked out a laugh. “I can understand that though. Tell Fenton I say hi, will you.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“Fenton? That Danny kid is the one who registered as a level eight ectoplasmic entity the last time, right?” Don asked. 

“Yeah.” Parker looked at the table the Fenton kid had sat down at. “Weird that he registers as a level eight ghost and he’s also allergic to the ghost repelling flowers.” 

“Yeah. That is weird.” Their food came out to the counter. Don grabbed the bag and started walking toward the booth the Fenton kid sat in. “Come on. Let’s see if we can overhear any information.” 

They slid into the booth next to the teenager and started digging into their food. Even with the offputting name of the restaurant, the food was pretty good. 

Sam walked over and slid into the booth behind the. “Valerie says hi.”

Danny sighed. Don peeked over the top of the booth to see him lovingly looking towards the counter. He could practically feel the eyeroll Sam was giving her friend followed by a snort. 

“You better not let her catch you looking at her like that during patrol again. The last time she almost got you pretty badly.” 

“Come onn, it wasn’t that bad.” 

“She broke your nose.”

Don shot Parker a bewildered look at that. Parker stopped mid chewing to make a face. 

“Whatever. I just have to be more careful when I’m looking at her.”

“Danny-”

“What is up my dudes.”

“That Tucker kid is friends with him too?” Parker asked. 

Don stood up and tried peering over the top of the booth again and looked eyes with the girl. She frowned at him.

“Can we help you?” 

Don jumped. “Ah, sorry. I was just, uh, you’re the Fenton kid right?”

He nodded. “You guys are the weird ghost hunters from out of town that didn’t know what they were doing, right?”

“What, we knew what we were-”

Sam barked out a laugh. “You thought I was a ghost and just grabbed me. As if that would do anything to restrain a ghost. How’d the pepper spray feel?”

Don’s eyes widened again. “Not great.”

“Good. Now how about you guys leave us alone. Unless you both want to get sprayed this time.”

“Leave me out of this. I'm sitting in my seat minding my own business and eating my food.” Parker said. Don glared at him. 

“Now, now, Sam. Maybe they were interested in buying some Foley. By Tucker Foley. I was giving them my pitch on my ghost repellent slash cologne earlier today.” 

Sam rolled her eyes. “We do not need any more people spraying that stuff all over town. It stinks.” 

“But my profits are-”

Suddenly the Fenton kid stood up and ran towards the bathroom. Then the whole restaurant went silent. 

People started standing up and packing up their food. Don and Parker looked around, unsettled.

“Hey, kids. Where’s everyone going?”

A jock was walking by their table and overheard them. “What are you new here? Everyone knows that if Fentina runs to the bathroom like that a ghost attack will follow.”

“Are you serious?” Parker asked. “Everyone just takes that as gospel?”

“Yeah.” Don looked towards the bathroom. “That’s strange.”

Sam shrugged and packed up her food. “That’s fine. You don’t have to believe us. Stay if you want.”

Don nodded. “We will.”

Tucker snickered as they walked away and soon the restaurant was empty except the two of them. 

“They can’t be serious.” Parker took another bite of his food. “Why would the Fenton kid’s potty breaks be any indication of when a ghost attack is going to happen?”

Don shrugged. “Maybe none of their traditions actually do anything. Except for the Box Ghost one. He actually took those things.”

“Maybe everyone here is just-”

“Feel my fury!” 

The voice of an older woman emanated through the room. The doors to the kitchen burst in and a meat tornado flew out. It only lasted a few seconds before it moved outside, but when everything settled and went quiet, Don and Parker looked at each other, both covered in meat.

“Don.”

“Yeah, Parker.”

“Can we go home?”

[0perfectimperfections0]

What if the factory robots had given the new leader Ox, a shockcollar and remote to punish Lou instead of the washer. Because they don't want their best prototype to be ruined, they offered an alternative method in keeping Lou under control by the dolls.

Mkay...I've actually played around with this idea a bit, which will explain why this short story went on longer than I knew it would.

Needless to say, 9 Google-Doc-Pages-Later, I finished this.

Enjoy, and I'll put a "read more" bit right at the beginning just cause it's a lot and I don't wanna give a hard time to those of you that enjoy scrolling through the feeds instead of using the pinned post.

<><><><><>

Lou's breathing was a bit off-kilter from the shocks. He looked up at Ox through his lashes and drooping bangs. "Don't like your new pet?" He asked venomously. Wrists were bound behind his back by metal clasps. These did not produce electrocution and were assumably only temporary. Ox hoped so, anyhow. 

Ox stared down at the prototype with so much conflict warring in him. 

"Do it," Lou panted with a challenging look in his eyes. "You know you want to. This is my punishment, right? For trying to kill all of you. For lying. Cheating. Destruction. Sabotage. The list goes on. That's at least five shocks right there." 

"Stop talking," Ox growled lowly. 

Lou rose his brows minutely with an air of sass. "Yes, Master." 

His chin was grabbed quickly. Ox glared. "Don't…call me that. The factory ain’t doin’ this to ya ‘cause of any of those things and you know it. They lost control over ya and they want it back. They're just makin’ us do their dirty work. So don't call me that." 

Lou still held a level gaze. "Yes, Sir." 

Ox's hand tensed around Lou's jaw and the other around the remote. The only pressure Lou took note of was the one holding the remote. He maintained eye contact but watched that green thumb hover over the button. He tensed on instinct, waiting for the shock, and his pupils contracted in a rush of fear. None of it went unnoticed by Ox. "Don't call me that," he almost hissed out. "I'm Ox. Just say Ox." 

Lou's eyes deviated from his. They went to a robot watching a ways off. Lou whispered as his eyes trailed back to Ox's. "I'm not allowed to be informal. That's part of obedience. I have to address you as either Sir or Master…like I'm supposed to with my Creator." 

This was nauseating. Ox looked down at the collar, lowering the hand on Lou's chin to thumb over the cold metal. "Can we break it?" 

Lou's eyes lowered to the ground. "No, Sir. It sends out another shock if too much pressure is applied. I've tried before in the past." There was a significant pause. "There is another way, though, that I haven't tried yet." 

"What is it?"

Blue eyes met his again. "You won't like it–Sir." He quickly added when he almost forgot. Ox didn't respond but waited for him to continue. "If you take me to the recycle–"

"No," Ox said it so quickly and with so much conviction it actually made Lou flinch. "We're not doin’ that. It's not an option." 

"Sir–"

"No, enough, I'm not doin’ it." Ox stepped back from Lou, rubbing a paw over his ears. "There has to be another way." 

Mandy wrung her hands together, looking at the collar. "Why does the factory think you need this?" 

"I haven't been doing what they want me to do." Lou sounded so empty inside as he stared ahead. "I've let too many imperfect dolls through the portal. I let you all train. I broke the portal. Not to mention the countless times I've tried to go through the portal. I'm not allowed to touch it–not like I can go through anyway–but attempts are against the rules." Lou hung his head, shrugging with a slight tilt to the head as he remembered another thing. "Oh, and I ran the Gauntlet." Another pause. “I’m not perfect enough for him.”

“Him?” Ox stared ahead, trying to think of a way to get Lou out of this mess. 

“My Creator. The one who made me. I belong to him and this factory.” 

“Then we can talk to him,” Moxy tried for a smile with the idea. “I’m sure he doesn’t want his doll to be…like this. Maybe if we tell him what’s going on then he can stop it.” Lou shook his head, not looking at her. “It’s worth a shot, right? You said you belong to him. He’ll help you.”

“The way I belong to my Creator is different from the way you all belong to your kids. He owns me. He owns me like a slave. I’m not his doll, I’m his puppet. He uses me to get the inner workings accomplished within the Institute and I am expected to obey his every command.” 

“Then we fight back,” Moxy looked determined as always. 

“Woah, now, girly,” Wage stepped in quickly, “this ain’t any of our business, much less our problem.” 

“Wage is right,” Lucky glanced nervously at Lou. “This has nothing to do with us. It’s more serious than going through a pipe, Moxy.”

“Well, shouldn’t we do something to stop this?” She challenged. 

“I’m telling you how to stop this,” Lou hissed. He noticed the robot’s eyes blink red in the distance and he corrected himself. Lou bowed his head and fixed his face, bangs drooping low enough to cover his glare at the ground. “Take me to the recycle,” he said quietly. 

“And do what exactly?” Ox finally looked back down at Lou. Blue eyes looked up through his bangs, anger burning in them. 

“Kill me. It’s been a decade of this. The process will just repeat itself.”

“Just do what he tells ya to do!” Ox was growing frustrated and desperate. 

“If I do…someone’s still gonna die, Sir. It just won’t be me.” The dolls grew silent. Ox stared down at Lou for a long moment. The pieces were beginning to fall into place. 

“You ain’t the reason I had to go through the pipes.” 

“I did what he told me to.” Lou’s eyes lowered, tired now of upholding the stare-off. His shoulders slumped and he wiggled his fingers to get the feeling back in them. “That’s all I’ve ever been doing since I was created. At some point, I just got sick and tired of listening. That’s when new punishments were implemented to keep me in line.”  

Ox thought for a moment. It was just extreme measures just to keep Lou in line. And to the perspective of a human…Lou was just a doll. Just a prototype. Obviously, he was much more than that to Ox, but this Creator wouldn’t see it that way. Lou could have been replaced at any point once he started disobeying. So, why keep him around? “It sounds like he’s afraid of ya.” He looked down in the corner of his eye to gauge Lou’s reaction. 

The blond chuckled dryly. “Sure. Like I’ve got any ground on him. I don’t see why he doesn’t just make a new prototype. Give him a new toy to play with and let me just die already.” 

“He’s keeping you alive for a reason,” Mandy spoke somewhat to herself. She sat on her knees in front of Lou, brushing part of his hair back to look at the collar better. “Maybe he can’t make another prototype.” 

Lou barely glanced into her eyes—more conscious of her hand fiddling with the edge of the clasp on his neck. “It wouldn’t be that hard. Make a doll and stuff a microchip in its neck. Voila. New prototype.” 

“Microchip?” Ox echoed. 

“The thing that—other than my Creator—keeps me alive. It’s buried in my neck on the right side. If it weren’t for that thing, I probably wouldn’t feel a single shock. Or anything, for that matter. I’d be dead.”

“You never told us any of this before,” Mandy looked almost betrayed by the lack of information. 

“Well, forgive me, Ma’am, for not being so open. I didn’t exactly want my one vulnerability to be exposed to the public. Anyone could kill me if they wanted to with a hard enough punch to the throat.” 

“No one would’ve done that,” Moxy looked disgusted by the thought. 

“I’m not exactly popular at the moment, so don’t speak so soon,” Lou commented sarcastically. “The names also didn’t flow smoothly off the tongue. What did they use to call me? Cyborg. That was a fun one, very creative. Android. Unique, still didn’t sound as good as Lou. Sometimes they abandoned creativity and just called me a robot.”

Mandy tilted Lou’s head to one side to expose the right portion of his neck. She tapped the red light experimentally. Maybe they could use some sort of tool to disassemble the collar. “You’re still a doll, though, other than that. Stuffing inside, right?” Lou hummed in agreement. “You’re more sentient than those robots by a long shot—lift your head.” He did so. Both her hands went to either side of his neck, trying to feel for any bolts or screws that could be undone. “I’m wondering if there’s a safer way to get it off. One that doesn’t involve you getting hurt.” 

“Funny,” Lou sent her a wry smile while his head was tilted upward, “after that episode in the pipes, I would’ve thought you to be the last person to care.” 

“I don’t care,” she muttered. 

Lou hummed. “Then take me to the recycle.” 

She took him by the chin, lowering his face to be level with hers now. “Stop talking.”

He gave her a haughty look, brow raising. “Yes ma’am.” 

<><><><><>

They were in Ox’s home, sprawling out the plethora of tools Babo had emptied from his pockets. Lou watched placidly. They had gotten the cuffs around his wrists off. Submission didn’t look right on him. Not when they had become so used to the confident, authoritative figure he used to be. It was obvious that Lou wasn’t enjoying it, either. He sat on the floor, cross-legged, with one hand propping up his head and the other picking at the carpet. 

“You’re wasting your energy,” Lou commented off-handedly. “I gave you the easy way out.” 

He was ignored by all of them. What was the big deal? They didn’t like him anyway. There shouldn’t be any issue with sending him to the recycling to be destroyed. 

The remote controlling his collar probably shouldn’t have been haphazardly set on the floor along with the assortment of tools. Moxy wasn’t watching where she stepped and the back of her heel landed on the button. They nearly jumped out of their felt when Lou screamed. Blue and white sparks danced around the surface of the collar as it went off. Lou doubled over, fingers now digging into the carpet as his body jolted and he tried to bite back screams. Moxy jumped about a foot in the air when she realized what happened and the shocks stopped. Lou took in staggering gasps of air, eyes squeezed shut so he wouldn’t pass out from the colored splotches in his vision. 

“Oh my doll! I’m so sorry!” Moxy gently kicked the remote far away and rushed over to him. Something red trickled down his lips. He coughed more of the liquid up, nearly sending Moxy into a full-on panic as she thought it was blood. 

“I’m fine,” he spoke hoarsely, wiping the red stuff away with his sleeve. Probably not a good idea. He was still wearing his white dress shirt. It left a large, red stain on it. Great. “It’s not blood. I’m still stuffing inside, remember?” His attempt at a joke failed miserably when Moxy didn’t look relieved by that answer. 

“Th-Then what is it?” She was hesitant to touch him. As if he were delicate and would break. She didn’t want to hurt him again. 

“Silicone discharge,” he answered, a thumb rimming over his bottom lip to wipe it off. It stained his fingers red. “It’s from the microchip. It does that with high voltages. Not sure why.” Something yellow came into view and he lifted his head to see Mandy kneeling down in front of him. She took a wet washcloth and wiped his mouth and fingers. The mix of colors turned certain spots green on the cloth. 

“Hold that to your mouth,” Mandy ordered. “Ox, you wouldn’t happen to have anything else he can wear, would you?” 

“It’s fine,” Lou mumbled around the cloth. “I’ve gotten more stains on me than this before.” 

“Yeah, well, it looks like blood and I’m not staring at it for the rest of the day.” Mandy grabbed another wet washcloth and tried wiping at the spot while Ox went to search for a shirt. The cloth held up to his mouth was taken—soaked and nearly completely green. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Recycling is looking a lot better now, huh?” Lou licked his lips to try and get rid of some of it. It was pooling in his mouth. Metallic-tasting and bitter. 

Mandy had half a mind to slap him across the face when she returned with a new washcloth. A part of it would have been fueled by anger at hearing him speak about suicide so lightly. The other would have been misdirected anger at herself for even caring about what happened to him. But Lou wasn’t phased by anger. That was the very essence of what fueled his own actions. The only thing he would probably respond to is something he wasn’t familiar with. 

The dark-skinned doll sat back down in front of him, gently placing the wet rag on his mouth and handing him a cup to spit into. She watched him for a moment. “You’re really strong.” He looked up at her, obviously caught off guard by the compliment. “If I was in your position, I don’t think I would’ve been able to endure it. Not for ten years.”

Lou scoffed, breaking eye contact. “I wish I’d given up sooner. All I did was prove to my Creator how much of a submissive pet I was by obeying. I should’ve thrown myself into the recycling years ago to make my point.”

“That’s what you think that is? You think killing yourself is proving a point?” 

“You said so yourself that he’s keeping me alive for a reason. I’m not gonna give him what he wants.”

“Then stand up to him—in a real way. Talk back. Fight. Something.” Mandy flared her hands in the air, trying to think of alternatives. 

“I. Can’t.” Lou looked into her eyes, pupils contracted. His voice shook a little no matter how hard he tried to control it. “I get treated like a rabid dog the second I break one of the rules. What do you think he’ll do to me if I blatantly go against him? He won’t kill me, but I’ll wish I was dead. I wish I was dead right now.” 

“I think Ox is right. I think he’s afraid of you and is doing this to make you feel inferior.” Lou rolled his eyes with a scoff. “People don’t bring others down for no reason, Lou. Not even you. Me and you both know that the only reason you tried so hard to get rid of Moxy was because you knew she could beat you.” Lou glared dangerously but kept silent. “Your Creator is doing the same thing to you.” 

Ox came in and the group grew silent again. Lou had been glaring at Mandy when Ox reentered the room. He looked between the two, a grey t-shirt in his paws. “What’d I miss?” 

<><><><>

“Alright, hold still.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Mandy intentionally pinched Lou’s neck, making him flinch. It didn’t wipe the tired, really-wish-this-was-over look in his eyes. His head was tilted, exposing the collar, and Mandy held a pair of metal pliers. “We’re not in the open anymore. Stop with that.” 

“It wasn’t even for that, actually. I more or less want to be on good terms with the person who has a weapon aimed at my throat. But by all means, take a stab at it.” He meant this literally and figuratively. 

Moxy returned with another clean washcloth. He’d gone through three of them by now. All soaked with discharge. The voltage was much higher the second time than the first. It felt like it grew stronger with each administration. Some of the carpet had accidentally gotten torn up as well from how far his nails had dug in. 

“Alright, I’m gonna pull,” Mandy warned. Lou only nodded minutely and stuffed the rag into his mouth, biting down on it, to muffle his screams and prepare for the discharge. Moxy stood in front of Lou, grabbing him by the wrists tightly so he wouldn’t claw at anything. The pink doll watched Mandy mouth a countdown before pulling downward with the pliers. 

Moxy’s feet nearly slipped and she had to quickly adjust to the sheer force of Lou’s arms pushing against her as the shocks went through him. He was strong by himself, but gosh, if the pain didn’t seem to amplify his strength by a ton. Lou’s eyes were squeezed shut as he screamed through the rag. Red liquid started seeping through, trailing down the corners of his mouth. The other dolls had to look away. Moxy closed her eyes as well and concentrated solely on keeping Lou’s hands up. 

Ox kept his eye open. It was trained more so on the collar than Lou’s face. Mandy didn’t seem to be gaining any ground as she continued to put all of her weight into pushing down on the collar to break it loose. 

The rag was released from Lou’s mouth and he cried out with tears streaming down his face. “Stop! Please stop!” Mandy immediately released and the shocks halted. Lou’s body finally untensed and he sucked in a breath of air as he sobbed. Red discharge pooled in his mouth and Babo was quick to go grab another rag. They could barely wipe away any of the liquid as Lou doubled over, crying. Moxy eased his arms down to his lap but didn’t let go. 

Mandy snaked her arms around his torso, forehead pressing against the side of his. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

They had to calm Lou down before he choked on the fluids pooling in his mouth. He coughed up a concerning amount and more was dripping down his chin. Ox patted Lou’s back a few times to get the airways clear again. “P-Please,” Lou choked out, “I-I’m begging you…t-take—take me to recycle.” 

Mandy opened her eyes, lifting her head to rest her chin on the crown of his head. Taking in a shaky breath, “Okay.” The others stared at her with wide eyes. Ox gave her an understanding look, ears drooping behind him. “Alright…if that’s what you want…we’ll take you there.”

<><><><>

It was silent the whole walk. Lou was supported by Mandy and Wage, arms draped around their shoulders. That last shock had taken almost everything out of him. It was a surprise he was even alive. Mandy kept a rag in one hand, dabbing it against his mouth periodically. Most of the discharge had ebbed away. 

“Stop,” Lou sounded breathless. They halted and Lou’s knees buckled. The two girls eased him onto the ground on his knees. He braced his arms against the ground, trying to blink away the colored splotches in his vision.

“We got company,” UglyDog growled, fur bristling.

Three robots were headed toward them. The one in the lead narrowed its sights on Lou. “Where are you taking Prototype Model 12?” It came to a stop just a few feet from them. 

The dolls exchanged looks. There was no answer. 

“Attempt at escape is futile–”

“Escape or saving?” Ox narrowed his eye. “This whole punishment is outta line! What makes any o’ this humane!?” 

“If the punishment is not carried out, we will take matters into our own hands.” The second robot held up a remote. Lou still had his back to the robots, eyes narrowing in hazily on the pipe just a ways off. 

"You will obey my every command. Right down to the word."

"Yes, Sir." 

"Good." There was a distinct pause. "You will never turn against me. I am your Creator. Your Savior." 

Blue eyes stared dead ahead, still. "Yes, Sir." 

Lou’s hands turned to fists on the ground. One of the robots was spitting out those stupid rules again. “Prototype Model 12 has not exuberated proper obedience. He must be properly conditioned to follow orders.”

"You will submit yourself to me. You will belong to me."

"Yes, Sir."

Everything. All of it. He hated it. He hated being stuck here. He hated submitting himself to that monster. He hated the rules. He hated the isolation. He hated hating things because he had nothing to love. He hated being tossed around and abused like a ragdoll. 

One of the Uglies said something that didn’t sit well with the robots. The button was pressed and a nauseating jolt made Lou’s heart sink down into his stomach and jump up in his throat at the same time.  

“Say it.”

“I am worthless without you.”

“Again.”

“I am worthless without you.”

“You. Belong. To me.”

“I belong to you, Sir.”

Lou screamed bloody murder, discharge dripping down from his teeth and onto the ground. It wasn’t all from the pain. Rage. It made his heart race faster than the shocks did. It made his muscles tense and some foreign energy danced on his fingertips. Before any of the dolls knew it, blue eyes shot open. The whole expanse of them glowed an iridescent blue. The lights in the Institute flickered as if the sun held no purpose. The clouds rolled and twisted as if they didn’t know which way to go. The wind picked up speed. Lou screamed at the top of his lungs, rage bursting out of him along with the bolt of electricity that shot out from his fingers to the robots. 

The dolls backed away, giving Lou a wide berth as he stood on trembling legs and halfway turned to the other two robots. The lead one was nothing but a smoking hunk of metal now. An arm was outstretched and blue streams of electricity shot out and fried the other two robots. 

Even as electricity sparked and danced between Lou’s fingers, the lights began to stop flickering and the wind died down. Lou struggled to breathe, chest heaving. His eyes dimmed and the iris’ became visible again. The outstretched arm dropped to his side as if it weighed more than he could handle. His hold body began to cripple and fall to the floor. Mandy caught him by the underarms before he could reach the ground. 

“W-What…was that?” Wage asked with a trembling voice. 

They could only stare at Lou as his eyelids fell shut and he went limp in Mandy’s arms. Smoke trailed from the ground at Lou’s feet where the collar around his neck had broke and the cross-section was charred black. She lowered herself to the ground, bringing Lou with her. He was still breathing, thank goodness. 

Ox tentatively reached out and took Lou’s wrist, sliding his paw down to the hand. Short sparks erupted now and then at the fingertips. Ox sucked in a quick breath when one of them stung his hand. “This…,” he couldn’t explain it, nor understand it, “this is what his Creator was afraid of.”

[mewly]

"Her stubbornness and drive rivals Aloy’s which isn’t something she’s really faced with a companion before" ikrie and talanah are laughing somewhere

I don’t even personally ship Seyloy if that’s what you’re mad about 😂

Anyway you’ve missed the point of what I said there entirely. So allow me explain!

Tl;dr: Seyka’s stubbornness and drive is harsh like Aloy’s, Talanah’s isn’t (and Ikrie isn’t a companion so she didn’t have the same impact), they are different, and I thought narratively that Seyka’s would have had a bigger impact than it did.

This is what I said in literally the next line: “Aloy got to see what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that instead of the perpetrator.”

I said at first I thought Seyka’s character was created to act as a mirror of Aloy, (with the similar personality traits, both mission driven, finding a focus and younger sister rescue) so that Aloy could experience firsthand how she has previously acted towards others with her own drive and stubbornness making her leave them behind and letting her know how that felt from an outside perspective. Let’s be honest, Aloy can he harsh at times because of her mission and weight of it and that comes across in her drive, we’ve seen companions like Varl and Erend comment on this before. Seyka was written to be the same way. She’s quite brash and rude at times towards Aloy, whereas no other companion has been to that extent before. She’s not afraid to snap at Aloy.

I believed as the dlc went on that Aloy would have an epiphany moment - since Varl isn’t there to explain these things to her anymore - like “oh damn this is how they all felt”, further pushing Aloy towards letting people in and changing her mentality to be more open in H3, and in turn helping Seyka open up too. It was her whole character arc in HFW so I assumed it would continue into the dlc. BUT, that isn’t what happened sadly. It was romance coded instead.

As the DLC went on, I clicked that Seyka was written to be our first love interest, and not her own character like all the other companions. And I’ll stand by that conclusion. People can all argue until the cows come home that Seyka’s her own character, but this is my opinion and I don’t think she is right now, 90% of her character is Aloy’s recycled, mashed up with everything we’d seen from our previous companions to make her this “all rounder”, and it’s just not as good. Which is why the character mirror theme would’ve made more sense to me narratively. (It’s also why I can’t ship it, I think they’d clash long term. Too similar ya know?Anyway, I’m off topic.)

Aloy is pushed into the supporting role at times with Seyka, which is jarring to us as the players. (That might also account for why I felt like a major third wheel the entire main plot of the dlc lol, I didn’t feel like I was in Aloy’s place anymore, but I digress).

In regards to Talanah and Ikrie, Talanah is a huge positive force from the get go in HZD, her banter is cheerful, and she willingly helps Aloy. There’s no real pushback in HFW after a brief conversation (eg. Talanah agrees to go back when she’s hurt, whereas Aloy tries to push onward until she’s physically forced to stop by her wounds after the Hades proving lab), Talanah’s stubbornness and drive is admirable but it is different from Aloy’s and that’s just fact. Ikrie is a DLC side character (not a companion ergo she won’t have the same impact on the story) that I genuinely don’t remember much of so I can’t comment there, but I know even she didn’t act like Seyka does towards Aloy, (which as I said before, comes across a little rude at times).

I genuinely hope that clears things up for you about what I meant from that line.

I was trying to be positive in my wording in that review, so that anons, such as yourself, didn’t jump down my throat for “not liking Seyka or Seyloy” since discourse was rampant then. But as always people find something to be mad at! 😂

But a word of advice if I may? Clearly you prefer Talanah and Ikrie for Aloy, or as characters in general, which is fine. Ships ahoy! But ships aren’t the be all and end all of fandoms nor should they be, and this game is so much more than ship discourse and I’d hate to see it reduced to such now that romance has been confirmed in whatever extent that may be, it’s a phenomenal game series and I could write about the themes and narrative behind it (or potential themes lol) until my fingers bleed. I didn’t like Seyloy because it didn’t make sense to me narratively, not because “omg a new girl kissed Aloy and my ship is now dead nooo wahhh”. Some people like Seyka and/or Seyloy, some people don’t, and I’m indifferent to it all mostly. And that is ALL okay (as long as you’re not like, one of those homophobes who tanked the reviews of course because of it).

Anyways all the best nonny.

[bulbabutt]

Transformers Prime is a show that exists. I don’t love it, I don’t hate it, it’s just there. I would consider it a square unit of a show. I love the Autobots but they’re literally the only well-written characters in the show, and even with that they get fumbled. As for it utilizing most of its lore from other series, that was sort of the point; this was meant to be a permanent replacement for Transformers as a brand going forward and it recycled and reinterpreted everything from it’s then 25-year-old history into one single "Aligned" continuity. That explains why it feels super middling, at least to me. I’m sure other people might’ve thought that the references and callbacks were fun, but they leave the show feeling like all it IS is a retread of other ideas. And this wasn't even supposed to be the case intitally! There was supposed to be a bunch of storylines with new stuff involving space pirates and intergalactic travel, but budgetary cuts and new directors more or less forced them into doing Beast Machines 2. It sucks that its one chance to find its own voice got canned.

its interesting that you say the autobots are the well written characters cuz to me they are bland pieces of wood here, outside of ratchet, and i find the decepticons way more fun to watch.

i understand that it was TRYING to bridge all the lore together and i can totally see that point, but i think the show just never understood the point of half the lore they were trying to bridge together. like for example throwing out the words 'key to vector sigma' for no reason other than to put the words in there. like vector sigma as far as i can remember was what primus was right? a mix of the allspark and primus? 'vector sigma the computer that grants us all life' was like their god, and prime uses the word 'key to vector sigma' to describe the magic key that unlocks optimus memory of becoming prime since getting the matrix of primes. like its giving word soup bad blockbuster movie plot (i wonder why)

and whhhaaaaat space pirates and intergalactic travel? damn that sucks they didnt get to do that. i will say i think they should have wasted a lot less time to get to that stuff, but based on the fact they called that final season 'beast hunters' for what i can only assume was toy synergy reasons, its proooobably not their fault.

[snarky-magpie]

You can read the first two chapters of this very fluffy, not at all serious fic here.

Regulus’ knees have a replay of the previous visit and buckle under him fucking again, so suddenly this time that he has to use his other hand—the one James isn’t currently grasping—to grip the counter so he wouldn’t crumple to the floor like a heroine in a Jane Austen novel. How humiliating. And the bastard only laughs and fastens his lips to the back of his hand harder. James one, Regulus zero. 

The moment his sense of equilibrium returns, he yanks his hand away, drawing on each ounce of haughtiness provided by his Black heritage, channeling every bit of Walburga and Orion as he strives to pierce James with a scowl, but it achieves a big fat nothing. James grins, satisfied with the success of his stunt, then writes down his final guess of the day.

A name in his crisp handwriting stares back at Regulus when he accepts the cup, the black letters a stark contrast with the recycled brown paper.

‘Leo.’

Well. That’s in the vicinity. Somewhat. That doesn’t mean he’ll make this easy on James. The sod doesn’t deserve the hint, or any hint, not after the kissing scheme—the back of Regulus’ hand still tingles as though he ran it through a field of nettles—so he sends the eager barista a look he hopes channels disappointment and exhaustion in equal parts.

“You’re never gonna get it.” 

“Damn. I really thought I had it this time. There’s something about you that screams Leo.” James tilts his head, studying Regulus, flitting his eyes up and down and scanning every line of his face as though he assumes they might spell out the letters of Regulus’ name for him. “Well. See you tomorrow at three, Arthur.” 

“You’re out of guesses,  Jamie, mon ami stupide .” If James can play dirty, so can he. Oh, he’s perfectly aware of what effect his speaking French has on people. Pandora teases him it’s his go-to move when he wants to pull. Her assessment might be accurate, but hey, why mess with a tried and trusty procedure? One day, it may lose its appeal, but today is not that day. James swallows hard when he hears, the jut of his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. 

“I’m almost certain you just called me stupid, and it doesn’t even bother me. Do you speak French?”

“Obviously.”

“Yeah. Okay. Obviously. Say something else? Please?” 

Regulus, all too aware that the crowd behind him continues to expand and that the covert glances Lily darts their way grow increasingly desperate, grabs his order, poised to leave, but then changes his mind at the last minute. He’d be dumb to let this opportunity slip through his fingers, no? 

“Tu ne devineras jamais mon nom.”

“No clue what you’re saying, but it’s so sexy I don’t even care.” 

“Yes. You’ve got a bit of dribble here.” Regulus taps the corner of his lips, and to his great amusement, James follows the motion as if in his thrall, wiping at his absolutely dry mouth.

“You sod.”

[thessalian]

Thess vs Chores

Things I have had to deal with, or am continuing to deal with, today:

Sinus headache (ongoing)

Upstairs neighbour doing very loud DIY (ongoing, and without so much as a “sorry for the inconvenience” note shoved under my door)

Conversation with my stepfather about financial bits (finished)

Yeah, if I’d known that today was when my upstairs neighbour was going to be hammering and drilling in the afternoon, I might not have picked today for the “Let’s see what we can do about getting your National Insurance contributions up to date” chat with my stepfather. Still, that chat went well.

Oh, I should explain ‘that chat’ for the non-UK people. See, we’ve got a state pension here, paid out by virtue of National Insurance contributions. This comes out of your paycheques automatically, which is why your employer needs your National Insurance number when they’re paying you. Thing is, there’s a certain threshold for NI contributions, and there were several years in there where my contributions did not reach the required threshold for a full NI contribution for the year because I was working as a temp ... or rather, because I was registered as a temp but not actually working because no assignments, but also not claiming Universal Credit (or whatever the benefits were at the time) because I was still holding out hope that that week was the week I’d get an assignment. Now that I am in a stable job, they want to fill some of those gaps in my NI contributions so that I can claim a full state pension when I retire. ...I mean, that’s assuming that state pensions are still accessible by the time it comes to my retirement age, and that the age at which one can claim one’s state pension doesn’t go up so high that I die before I’m eligible for it, but let’s be optimistic. Thing is, it’s a process, apparently, and is going to involve me calling HM Revenue and Customs to set it up before we can even aim for online payment. I don’t get it either, but it’s something I can look at tomorrow. Mostly because ... holy shit, I am not ringing the tax office with that much drilling and hammering going on upstairs.

Also I fed my stepfather some of my homemade instant hot chocolate and he liked it very much. Apparently this was also very well-timed because my mother was looking for powdered milk and apparently assumed it didn’t exist because she couldn’t find it in the tiny supermarket nearest to their place. I demonstrated the existence of dried milk with the fixings for my next batch of homemade instant hot chocolate, so he’s going home with that lovely bit of information. He was also quite happy to take some of the mint chocolate fudge I foisted on him - I mean, like hell was I going to eat it all on my own.

I did other chores today too. Mostly involving breaking down one very large box for the recycling, and taking out the garbage. Still, that’s a bit of a feat for me given that lugging that stuff down the stairs, outside, and out to the little shed where our dumpsters are is problematic at best. After all, when the load is awkward, I can’t use my cane. Leaves me with a bit of ow. And I get to compound that with sinus ow and “OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE PLEASE STOP THE NOISE” ow.

So for now, quick break, MOAR HOT CHOCOLATE MIX (I still have some but I’ve been having big mugs of it because it’s gorgeous and a good thing to have as a hot drink before bed when I don’t want coffee because caffeine but don’t want my sleepytime herbal tea either, so I need more), trip to the corner shop, and then maybe more demos. Or just something Zen, I dunno; my head hurts.

[lonelier-version-of-you]

I’ve just caught up with Casualty, thought I might as well do a little review post (though probably not as long as my usual ones).

All in all, a pretty good episode. I certainly preferred it to the previous one. Any scene with Faith in it dragged the episode down, but the other stuff was decent.

The Stevie stuff... I genuinely do not know how someone called her a Jac clone after this episode, because roughly 90% of the Stevie content here literally felt like recycled Henrik scripts. I don’t have an issue with that (and Elinor Lawless was absolutely brilliant in every scene), but, well, I keep saying Stevie’s the new Henrik and this episode was really blatant about that. She got some VERY Henrik-esque one-liners (“If you ask me how I’m doing, I swear I will not be held accountable. I am fine.” could’ve come out of Henrik’s mouth verbatim).

And of course, the whole ‘snapping at your mentee to maintain your ice-cold image and cover up for feeling weak and traumatised’ thing is incredibly Henrik. Stevie was certainly not treating Paige as badly as Henrik treated Sahira (the Henrik and Sahira stuff was just... on its own level), but fundamentally, the idea of Stevie bullying her mentee to feel like she was still in control and to avoid dealing with her own mental health problems and trauma? Again, literally the plot of the Sahira storyline.

I assume this means that, in a few years, we’ll get a retconned storyline that everyone insists is canon when it’s very blatantly not, where it’s “revealed” that Stevie and Paige knew each other as kids and Paige’s family caused Stevie some kind of trauma, and the show will be like “See? See?? It was actually Paige’s fault Stevie bullied her all along!”. Since that’s how it turned out with Henrik and Sahira.

Having said that, I am confused at why Paige said that the incident with the bodybuilder was Stevie’s fault. I’d otherwise agree with Paige’s rant at the end of the episode - Stevie did come back to work too soon, and she is being a dick to Paige - but the idea that the bodybuilder thing was Stevie’s fault is just... ????? Paige literally insisted on giving the medication without supervision? She specifically said she didn’t want Stevie there? I suppose maybe you can stretch it into “if you weren’t being so mean to me, I would’ve felt able to ask for your help” but idk.

Faith continues to be an awful, irredeemable person, and the show continues to pretend she’s a good one. What else is new. That brief moment when Elsie just snapped at her was great, but I was disappointed when she just went back to being nice to Faith right afterwards.

I am so utterly uninterested in a Faith and Iain will-they-won’t-they. This has been going on for like, a year and a half now, and it’s still not come to anything. Not that I want it to. Does anyone want this? Faith fans don’t want it because they still want her to be with Dylan (pairing Dylan, an abuse survivor, with Faith, an abuser herself, would be terrible unless the show specifically used it to do a storyline about revictimisation and Dylan being vulnerable because of his history and his low self-esteem, but they wouldn’t do that because they don’t want to admit Faith is abusive). The rest of us don’t want it because we want Faith to leave the show.

I don’t even like Iain, he’s just boring to me, but I still don’t want him with Faith. Imagine how awfully she’d react if she found out about his mental health issues. Yikes.

I’m still finding Jan’s storyline really interesting. I’m a Jan fan, always have been, so that’s not surprising. But I just really like the way they’re exploring how her job is affecting her, and the amount of stress she’s under. Di Botcher is acting it all really well, too.

I liked the variety of patients in this episode. The more patients an episode has, the more I enjoy it, it seems. I just like it when the hospital feels busy and stuff.

I did not like, however, that one of the patients was named Cameron. That name still makes me think of a certain dreadful Holby storyline.

Anyway, the day after tomorrow (as of me posting this), we get the improvised paramedic special! I’m really interested to see how that episode plays out.

[birchkillchronicles]

Getting to Marigold

Chapter Nine

Royal-Blue, Chestnut, Verdant-Green

            “Is all this plastic stuff ready to go?”

            “Yeah,” said Don. “And—with those cans in the blue bin—I’m pretty sure that’s the lot.”

            It was now a Tuesday night in mid-October, and Jeanie’s husband and Chuckie were gathering recycling items for the city to pick-up at the curb tomorrow morning. 

But, sighed Jeanie, there’s nothing unusual in that… 

Because, over the last two months, Chuckie Calamansi had become a fixture in the Dinmont-Todd home.

            Now, it was true enough that the first time that she’d seen him skipping down the back stairs to her kitchen for breakfast—as cheery as a stray dog who’d found a new home—she’d bristled with concern for Bernie. 

Yet—as her daughter had continued to invite her boyfriend to stay overnight in her mole’s nest—Jeanie had become quite accustomed to the sight of the lean and always hungry interloper foraging in her fridge to find ingredients for a daube Provençal…

Or standing over Don’s computer trying to figure out which wrong key Bernie’s dad had pushed this time…

Or popping out of the family bathroom in her daughter’s royal-blue TARDIS dressing gown…

Of course—as Bernie had archly pointed out—Chuckie hadn’t been there every night.  Only about three times a week.  Still—to Jeanie—it had certainly felt like he was constantly in her hair and underfoot…

            The one good thing—that Jeanie had been surprised to note—was that Chuckie seemed to have absolutely no interest in changing Bernie.  As far as she could see, the brazen young man assumed that any alteration in the normal expression of his girlfriend’s diffident personality or her reticent lifestyle was completely up to her. 

So, Jeanie had never heard Chuckie comment on her daughter’s lacklustre style of dress…or whether she used make-up…or how she wore her hair…

And he never seemed to expect Bernie to put aside the responsibilities of her job just to please him, day or night. 

In fact, most of the time Chuckie seemed too busy chasing after his own theatrical lifestyle to interfere with Bernie’s natural penchant for solitude.  But he obviously enjoyed her company whenever they hung out.

Actually, Jeanie had had to admit to herself—as she’d watched him sitting in their kitchen idly strumming his guitar or stretching his long-limbed frame into another improbable yoga pose in their family room—Chuckie was a pretty mellow boyfriend. 

And being with him seemed to make Bernie very, very happy.

So, Jeanie had decided thatuntil the shine had begun to dull on their still new-ish romance, she wouldn’t worry about finding a way to break them up permanently.

Certainly—when A Tale My Father Told Me had closed after its successful-whenever-the-weather-cooperated summer run—Jeanie had hoped that Chuckie would just pack up his bike and leave town.  Maybe find another role in Toronto or Halifax or in one of the other Canadian cities where he’d said he’d sometimes played on stage.

That would have ended her daughter’s unfortunate affair rather neatly, she’d assumed. 

But—to Jeanie’s dismay—Chuckie had found a part-time job teaching clowning at a local theatre school and then quickly been cast in Excursion Theatre’s autumn show. 

As he’d explained between ample forkfuls of Jeanie’s best Italian pot roast one September night, a senior member of the company had been forced to drop out of the production because of complications associated with an inheritance that he was receiving.  So—to Bernie’s delight—the show had been reworked with Chuckie playing one of the two villains’ roles instead.

Now, on the one hand...Jeanie had hoped that Bernie wouldn’t expect her to go see her boyfriend in his new show.  Judging by the hammy performances she’d seen last summer, it probably wouldn’t be something she’d enjoy. 

But, on the other hand…attending the play might finally give her the opportunity to reconnect professionally with Lindy about skittifying A Tale. 

Given the rude reception she’d had in August, she’d preferred not to make her loopy neighbour another spontaneous house call.  But she was beginning to realize that—since nobody in the Excursion Theatre office had ever replied to her repeated phone messages and e-mails—she might just have to.

To Jeanie’s mind, not only had this professional discourtesy been mystifying—who else would have offered such a generous deal for very little work on Lindy’s part?—but deeply annoying too. 

For how on earth could the Dinmont-Todd family move ahead with their Olde Fashioned Reunion plans if Lindy and her theatre company refused to cooperate?

            In early September, Jeanie had been excited to pick up the printed invitations and reply cards with their respective envelopes.  And, when the sales clerk had opened the boxes for approval—even without Sylvie being there to admire her triumph—she’d been thrilled.  Because her line drawings had looked just perfect for their Roaring Twenties theme! 

But of what use was all of that if she couldn’t specify which summer week had been scheduled for their Reunion?  After all, with so much travel involved, family members would need lots of lead time to get their plans in gear…

Thus, it was critical that Lindy get back to her—and soon!—with available dates for her theatre company.  Because only then could Jeanie fill in the blank spaces and send her handwritten invitations winging across the land.

            Unfortunately, Jeanie’s hopes that, under the circumstances, Chuckie would have felt an obligation to act as a liaison between her and Lindy had proved unfounded.  Whenever she’d brought up the subject, he’d just grinned and said, “Sorry, Momsy.  Can’t help ya there!”

            Having Chuckie call her ‘Momsy’ was another irritant, of course.  But with besotted Bernie leaping to her boyfriend’s defence at any tiny question or remark, Jeanie had decided early on to choose her battles extremely carefully.  So—despite enormous temptation—Jeanie had spent a lot of time this autumn leaving the young couple to peacefully follow their own pursuits.  And learning to bite her tongue hard.

Plus, maddeningly, even Don had become awfully grumpy whenever she tried to quiz the guy down.  And, with Chuckie around—rather than remaining the quiet, laid-back husband she’d always known and loved—he’d unexpectedly morphed into another source ongoing frustration. 

Because—no matter how ridiculous the clowning—Don had always found Bernie’s boyfriend funny and charming.  He’d chuckled at the slimmest jokes and glowed with approval over the tiniest glimmers of talent.  And—worst of all—he’d acquired an aggravating habit of complimenting the guy enthusiastically on every single dish he cobbled together in Jeanie’s kitchen. 

Which Chuckie the Clown had done with tiresome frequency. 

Whistling a brisk La Marseillaise as he’d juggled her pots and pans, he’d commandeered any ingredients that he’d happened to root out of her fridge, freezer, garden or pantry.  He’d even taken it upon himself to brine the Thanksgiving turkey last weekend—!  Which had been something that Jeanie had been planning to do for ages, but simply hadn’t gotten around to yet…

“This turkey is the best I’ve ever eaten!” her dumb husband had crowed, begging for another helping of the chestnut bird.  And Bernie’s incandescent pride in her boyfriend’s ‘gifted’ cooking had made Jeanie want to heave her beloved kidlet gently out of her third-floor window and serenely watch as she plummeted to the garden below…

Oh, gee whiz.  Wouldn’t that have been a Thanksgiving treat?

Well—at least Chuckie seemed to have a penchant for washing up afterwards.

Otherwise, mused Jeanie—checking through the refrigerator for any stale-dated food that Don might have missed—I’d have gone as loopy as good ol’ Lindy!

“That all the moldy kitchen scraps, Popsy?” she heard the clown politely ask Don at the mudroom door.

“Aaah—yes, I believe so,” her husband replied. “Oh, wait.  Did you get that take-out pizza box?  That goes in the green bin too…”

“Yep.  Got it, Chief!”

As she shut the refrigerator and climbed onto a kitchen stool, Jeanie could faintly hear the rumble as Chuckie rolled the green bin to the curb. 

Don came into the kitchen through the mudroom door.  “Well, Jeanie, we’ve done the deed, and ‘That’s all folks!’”

“Oh, Don,” sighed Jeanie.  “Don’t you start talking like a cartoon character too.  I’ve just about had all that I can stand.”

“Sorry about that, um—”  Don had the grace to look abashed as he pulled up another stool and sat down. “It’s kind of an easy habit to acquire, dear.”

“Well—don’t.”  Jeanie heard Chuckie come inside and lock the outer door behind him.  “Oh, good gravy, not again!” she moaned to Don, but, “Staying tonight, then, are you, Chuckie?” she asked brightly as he came to join them in the kitchen.

            “I invited him to,” announced Bernie, sliding into the kitchen from the front hall. “We’ve got something important to share with you two.”  Seeing the horror dawning on her mother’s face, she smiled. “Not that, Mom.  And not the other thing you’re thinking of, either.  Keep your hat on, and Chuckie and I will explain.” 

Soberly, Bernie and her boyfriend took seats at the island.

            “Okay,” began Chuckie in an oddly serious tone, “here’s the scuttlebutt.  My landlord sold the building where I’ve been paying month-to-month on a teensy one-bed apartment for the last coupla years.  That’s not a tragedy, folks, but the news that the new owner wants everybody out by the end of the month kind of is.”

            “So, you think that we should—?” Jeanie wasn’t pleased about where this particular narrative might be going. 

“Shush, Mom,” urged Bernie. “Let Chuckie fill you in first.”

            “Well, no,” he continued, still strangely straightforward, “I sorta thought I shouldn’t impose.  But Bernie says that you’ll be all right with everything once you understand.”

Bernie nodded with an expression of such undying love and encouragement that Chuckie reached out to squeeze her hand.

“You see, folks, it’s not that my bum will be tossed out on to the street.  I’ve couch surfed plenty of times before.  It’s just that—seeing how tight and expensive renting’s become in this burg—I’m afraid I won’t be able to smell out a place that I can afford and still pay my child support.  And if that cheque bounces,” Chuckie grimaced, “Mommy Dolores will probably let Hubby Mark talk her into shoving off to his hometown.  And if they move house to Hamilton, I won’t be able to see Tara anymore.  Or, at least, not three or four times a month like I do right now.”  He shook his head in frustration.  “See—if it was just me—it wouldn’t matter where I lay my weary bones.  But to keep Bugsy in my life, I’ve got to get a decent place that’ll satisfy her mom.  Now—I don’t expect any favours—but you folks can see my problem, right?”

            “Of course, they can, sweetheart,” sighed Bernie. “And they’re going to be delighted to help.  Aren’t you, Dad and Mom?”

            “In any way that we can,” Don assured the lovebirds, fervently.

            “You…you…have a daughter—?” faltered Jeanie.

            “Yeah.  She’s seven.  And—”

            “Named…Bugsy?”

            “Well, yeah.  But, really, Tara.  Like the street in Ottawa where I grew up.”

            “And—where—how did you get her—?”

            “Well, Mom,” snorted Bernie, rolling her eyes, “the little bird says ‘Hi, honey!’ to the bee, and then—” 

But Chuckie gave her a quick wink and a nod, so Bernie shrugged and hushed while he turned earnestly back to Jeanie.  “Tara came about when Mommy Dolores and me had a one-night fling at the wrap-up party for a Fimbria Fest show we were both playing in.  That was the June after I got home from France.  When she decided to go ahead and have the baby, I promised I’d do my best to come up with a little steady dough and make up the difference by kiddy-sitting.  So then, after she pushed her out, Mommy Dolores and me settled on a schedule and an amount.  And so, as long as I mind Bugsy when Mommy wants me to—and I pay up regularly—I’m supposed to be able to see my kid.  But nothing formal’s ever been written down, and so—legally—Dolores has got full custody.  So—if she thinks I’m living in a garbage dump, she can refuse to let Tara come stay with me.  Or just pack her up and leave for Hamilton whenever she wants.” 

“Well, we can’t allow that!” asserted Don with genuine feeling.

“So…she’s seven—?” Jeanie was still having trouble with the basic facts.  Chuckie the Clown was a father?  Who paid regular child support?  With a daughter he actually cared about?  “What do your parents think?”

Chuckie shook his head.  “Momma died when I was twelve.  And then Dad croaked when I hit twenty-one.  About six months before I went to France.”

“I’m sorry,” said Jeanie, sincerely.  “You never told us.  And how did—?”

“Her—suicide.  Him—heart attack,” Chuckie filled in, briefly. 

Jeanie reeled back in shock. 

Bernie gave her clown a side hug and kissed his cheek. 

“And brothers?  Sisters?” asked Don with a furrowed brow.

“Nope.  Well, I had a baby sister who hadn’t started kindergarten yet.  But Momma took her with her when she went.  Dad wasn’t up to any funeral stuff and I never saw…” Chuckie’s voice trailed off.

Everything in the kitchen went very still. 

Jeanie felt tears clog her throat.  

Sylvie…oh, no.  She couldn’t stand to blend Chuckie’s abysmal-blue grief with her verdant-green sorrow tonight.  Gulping fiercely past her tears’ watery chokehold—“Where does she go to school?” she rasped, instead.

“What?” Chuckie regarded Jeanie as if from far away.

“Your daughter, Tara?  Where does she go to school?”

“Oh yeah.”  Chuckie gave himself a shake. “She’s in Grade Two just over the bridge at Mutchmor Elementary.  Mommy Dolores gave up the stage and became a government hacker—like Bernie here.  They live about twenty-minute’s walk from your house in a new-fangled glass and steel heap in the Glebe.  Hubby Mark sells real estate.”

“Couldn’t he help you to find a suitable place to live, then?”

“Mom.”

This is serious.  Get with the program.  Don’t be such a selfish cow. 

“No, that’s okay, Cutie.  Your mom’s just askin' a question.  But I’ve got to answer that one, ‘Definitely, nope.’  Actually, hubby Mark would prefer it if I fell off the face of the earth.  Then he could get Mommy Dolores to—”

“—to move to Hamilton, Mom!”

Jeanie could see that her daughter was well past impatient with her.  But she just had to know, “But Bernie—did Chuckie tell you any of this?  I mean—before he parked his toothbrush by our sink?”

“Yes, of course, Mom!” snapped Bernie. “If you really must know—Chuckie told me everything about his life that day you were so mean to Lindy Styre.  And he’s been nothing but honest with me ever since.  And I’ve met his daughter Tara—multiple times!—and she and I get along just phenomenally!  So, I think having him move in here would be simply perfect.  He’s already pulling his weight around the house—even you’ve got to admit that!—and Tara’s mom couldn’t possibly object to her daughter visiting here.  She can have her own bedroom, for god’s sake—the guest room on the second floor?  We sure never use it for anyone else!  And Chuckie will be right upstairs with me.  And you and Dad will just love her—she’s the sweetest little kid—and Chuckie can relax about losing her to Steeltown.”

Steeltown?

Oh my gosh.

Chuckie had really contaminated her daughter’s mind.

Nevertheless, Bernie seemed genuinely passionate about this particular matter.  And Jeanie certainly couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard her string so many words together in a row…  

Plus—she did have to concede—with only the three of them, they were kind of rattling up and down the double staircases in this enormous old red-brick house…

And—it had been her original plan to have a large family of kids or, maybe, just lodgers to fill up its plentiful bedrooms… 

And—if Sylvie were still around—she’d definitely advise Jeanie to ‘err on the side of generosity…’

So…

“Okay, okay,” Jeanie said. “I only wanted to get a few things straight.  Now—is Chuckie going to be paying rent?”

“Mom—” began Bernie but, again, Chuckie silenced her with a subtle wink. 

“I sure as shootin’ aim to pay my share of the household expenses,” he declared.  “But if it’s more than what I pay now, I won’t be able to afford my child support and—”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about rent, son,” interrupted Don, earnestly.  “We’re very happy to have you and your little girl join us any time for however long you’d like to stay.  Call it our contribution to the Ottawa theatre scene.”

“Hey!  High five, Popsy, my man!” exclaimed Chuckie, fitting the action to the words, while Bernie sat beaming at her dad.

And that, as my mother would say, is the name of that little tune, thought Jeanie.  

Oh well.  It can’t be helped.  Chuckie doesn’t seem to have any place else to go.  And as long as it cheers up the rest of the family, I’ll just have to see how it all pans out. 

That is…until Bernie gets tired of her boyfriend’s sneaky schemes… 

Or for however long freeloading Chuckie and his dreadful offspring choose to mess up my house…

“So that’s all arranged,” Jeanie nodded, her lips curved into what she meant to be a big-hearted smile.  “And when can we expect to meet your delightful daughter?  Soon, I suppose?” 

“Yeah,” returned Chuckie, clearly relieved.  “Soon as possible, I hope…”

[onewingedsparrow]

This is very informative and tbh I’m fascinated but how dare you assume I have sentience (jkjk)

Well excuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUUse ME, Princess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I hope you notice though that I didn't assume you were human. That would be bold of me.

Also dang Optimus prime quote is *chefs kiss*

Isn't it a compelling quote? It dwells in my spark rent-free, ever reminding me of my purpose. It is, I am loath to say, one of the few good things to come out of Michael Bay's...infamous...live action cinematic universe. But, out of the scrap pile we exhume great recycling.

Also I think I remember you posting art about sparklings(? Thinking about one of your OCs specifically, forgotten most things I’m sorry) like baby/children cybertronians? Is that a fanon or a canon thing? Do they change from baby to adult in an organic sense or is it more…. Inanimate object like?

It's okay that you forgot, I was vague about her on purpose and didn't even tell you her name ;) Yes, I drew my sparkling! She won't be a sparkling forever...the story has great plans for her, hehe...but her story with RiD Bumblebee does begin when she is a sparkling and he finds her in the scrapyard. When it's finished one day, I hope you'll read it. <3

Cybertronian sparklings, my beloved! There was a considerable length of time when I was not onboard with the concept, but fandom eventually swung me. Sparklings are arguably more of a fanon thing than a canon thing, because fandom loves how cute they are—but, that being said, even canon that does not explicitly show sparklings nevertheless acknowledges the physical growth of Cybertronians in their life cycles. This time I will actually cite a few sources: -Earthspark has a flashback where you can see past Bumblebee was smaller than present Bumblebee.* -Robots in Disguise (2015) proves that Bumblebee clearly grew between adolescence and adulthood, but, I can't talk about that without spoiling something. - Age of Extinction references Bumblebee going through a rebellious phase reminscent of a teenager. Come to think of it, - The Last Knight directly shows sparkling Dinobots (but don't get me started on the worldbuilding in this movie because...well...just trust me). ...I wasn't intending to deliberately use Bumblebee across these examples lol but since he's usually one of the younger Autobots, it makes sense that he exemplifies. *however, Earthspark is also one of the few continuities where we get to see a Transformer come to life: while not "Cybertronian," the Terrans, including Twitch and Thrash, are "born" onscreen and are far more developed than human babies when they first appear; they act more like single-digit kids than like toddlers or infants. It technically debunks the idea that Bumblebee was a sparkling, but, at the same time, one could argue that, since the Terrans are "born" differently than the Cybertronians, as the Terrans originate from something besides the Allspark, it is theoretically possible that Cybertronian sparklings could still exist in this continuity. We'll have to see if Earthspark gives us any more flashbacks about Bumblebee....

~

Fun fact: "Sparkling" was actually a fanon term that canon later adopted, so that's pretty dang cool. Since sparklings are more fanon than canon, there are many interpretations of them. It all returns to the grand concept of "How do you believe the Allspark brings Cybertronians to life?" and, of course, no one can agree on that.

The concept of sparklings requires its own post if you really want to know how I personally see them, but I'll keep my headcanons brief: 1. Cybertronians do not reproduce sexually and I will not be dying on this hill because I'll forever be holding this hill in victory, not death. 2. Thus, sparklings are neither birthed nor built. 3. As Cybertronians develop from sparkling to youngling to adult, they do grow physically, mentally, emotionally, etc., but their overall lifespan is much longer than a human's lifespan, so the development appears to occur slowly from a human's perspective. @brb-on-a-quest From the bottom of my spark, thank you for asking all these questions! I adore your curiosity towards Transformers and I welcome any request for me to Nerd about one of the fandoms I am most passionate about. <3 Transformers science in particular is such a fun topic to explore.

Do transformers eat and/or sleep? What makes them sentient?

*rubs hands together excitedly All right, Brb my beloved, you have discovered one of the things I am most passionate about: Cybertronian physiology. Buckle in. I'm intensely invested in Transformers Science, particularly biology, so you've come to the right place. @brb-on-a-quest First, let's set the record straight: there are two major acknowledged branches of Cybertronian science: Canon and Fanon. Within each branch is a countless spread of other offshoots. As expected, Canon splits into various continuities, from comics to video games to novels to TV shows to movies to everything else under the sun. Fanon is likewise orderly, but a bit more freeform, splitting into Canon-But-Explained-to-Make-More-Sense (which is comprised of but is not limited to Robotics-Inspired, Vehicle-Inspired, and Creature-Inspired); Popular Headcanons That Have Just Been Around Forever; and Pure Imagination and Whimsy. (Canon is certainly also affected by Pure Imagination and Whimsy, but Fanon takes the time to explain how things work whereas Canon is more likely to gloss over it.)

I bring this matter up to set in stone that there is no "one right answer" for Cybertronian science. Continuities within canon don't always agree with each other, even without adding the orderly chaos of fandom interpretation. With that in mind, instead of answering this question with the highest level of accuracy, citing sources from various continuities and comparing and contrasting Canon logic and Fanon logic to see what truly makes the most sense in regards to Cybertronian physiology (as I normally enjoy doing), I'm going to simplify it all and give you a concise reply that is backed up by multiple canon continuities. Note: I will be using the word "Cybertronian" a lot in this reply. The term is used to refer to the native inhabitants of the planet Cybertron: sentient robotic organisms. On Earth, we know them as "Transformers," commonly translated to "robots that turn into vehicles." However, "robots that turn into vehicles" is a rather misleading idea, because while Cybertronians are robotic, and do take forms of vehicles, they are also organic first and foremost. A Cybertronian is not just wires and nuts and bolts come to life. Cybertronians have blood (called energon), organs (some of which are called biomechanisms), and souls (called sparks, though, the term "spark" itself is quite complex and refers to the heart, soul, and spirit all in one), to name just a few aspects that set them apart from your typical "robot." Cybertronians are aliens first and foremost: people that live on another planet. Just because they're robotic doesn't mean they're "robots." They don't follow programs; they have freewill. Now, to return to your ask.

- Do Transformers eat? In the most basic terms, yes. Cybertronians need to consume sustenance to go about their daily lives. Their standard food source is energon. (Yes, I said that was their blood, but really, it's fuel, same as your blood is a source of fuel for your body.) Energon is processed, consumed, and then circulates throughout the body. Simple!

As far as "How do they eat?" goes: that's a question I can only answer continuity by continuity. Some stories have them drink it through their mouths like we might chug water, some stories have them inject energon into their arms or their torso or elsewhere...there's no "right answer" here. So, yes, you can have fun imagining Optimus Prime drinking a giant glass of what looks like blue Gatorade, or, imagining Megatron chomping down on a giant-rock-candy-crystal of diesel-pink energon, or whatever strikes your fantastical whimsy. Some people imagine them having proboscides like insects or hummingbirds. It's rather fun all around. - Do Transformers sleep? Yes. Canon doesn't always have show that they sleep (because that's kind of a boring movie or TV show to watch) but canon regularly implies that Cybertronians need some sort of rest. "Recharge" is the term most commonly used in fandom. But, the life cycles of Cybertronians are very different from the life cycles of humans, so just because we don't see them sleep for a week doesn't mean they don't sleep at all. The way they engage with time is different from humans. It's logical to assume they don't need to rest as quickly as humans do. - What makes them sentient? What makes YOU sentient, dear friend? ;) This is one of my favorite questions to answer about Transformers. See, like I said, Cybertronians aren't robots, they're robotic aliens. They're people, with souls. When they "come online," they're sentient. The way Cybertronians are "born" (so to speak; actual birth is not involved) is their spark is brought into the world from a great light known as the Allspark. The Allspark is the source of Cybertronian life, and, so too, is the place that sparks return to when Cybertronians die. For yes, they can die, just as you and I. A spark is metaphysical; the Allspark is metaphysical. Who is to say what makes a soul sentient? Who can say they know exactly when life begins?

To quote Optimus Prime from Age of Extinction, "There are mysteries to the universe we were never meant to solve...but who we are and why we are here are not among them. Those answers we carry inside."

There are some continuities that claim that "Transformers were built." Forged by other creatures. Created by physical hands. However, I prefer the stories that leave the Allspark intact as something that cannot be fully understood—sanctified by the mystery of life itself. I think there is something special about stories that treat the metaphysical with gravitas. I believe Transformers is so much deeper when Cybertronians are truly more than meets the eye.

[cybersvoid]

❥ Engaged To The Unidentified

♡ Pairings: Shoto x Reader

Summary: You are in an arranged marriage with Shoto Todoroki, who is more pleased with the situation then you are. You just wanted to marry for love, not for status or money, but the situation is out of your hands.

!Warnings!: Abusive Father, Forced Marriage, Manipulation, Lying, Controlling, etc.

“Please father. Please, won’t you reconsider?” You begged, only to receive a harsh slap to your face as the back of his hand collided with your skin.

“Use your damn head, child. Do you want me to turn down a request made by Enji Todoroki himself, due to your own selfish feelings? How stupid do you have to be? Most people in your situation would be grateful to be married off to a Todoroki. But here you are throwing a fit like a damn toddler! Go pull yourself together and get out of my sight.”

It was about a week ago when that conversation occurred. The wounds were still fresh. You can still remember the look of pity your mother was sending you as you walked out, cheek swollen and eyes red with tears. All this fuss over love... or more lack thereof. 

Your father was offered a marriage contract by one of his business partners. An opportunity to expand both of their companies, with marriage as the seal. A marriage between you, and Shoto Todoroki, one of Enji’s sons. You didn’t want anything to do with this though. You wanted marriage for love, not for money, not for your father, and you sure as hell didn’t want to marry someone you never met before. Yet here you were. 

Meeting number one.

This was your first face-to-face gathering before your ‘big day’. Your family and his, came together to offer greetings and thanks, but for you and your fiancée, it was a time to get to know each other before your official wedding. A part of you wanted to make a bad impression, derail this entire idea by acting a fool, but fear of what your father would do wouldn’t let you.

Shoto wasn’t bad-looking at all, he had a visible scar on his eye, but it didn’t take away from his appearance. He was kind, greeting you with the smallest of smiles and a handshake, nothing too forward which you appreciated. His father was far more intimidating, his presence overpowering the entire room. While his mother was the complete opposite of the man at her side, quiet and withdrawn, never saying more than a few words here and there. They seemed like a nice enough family, but still, not one you saw yourself marrying into. Not that the decision was in your hands.

“Our daughter is quite excited, aren’t you dear?” Your father coaxed, the quickest of warning glares getting shot your way. One that you’re sure went unnoticed by everyone other than yourself.

“Yes, father,” you agreed, trying your best to fake a smile, but you weren’t sure how convincing it was.

“Our son as well, in fact, he would like to take you out tonight so the two of you can get to know each other a little better one-on-one. A husband and his future bride must get used to each other’s company after all. It’s okay with you I’m assuming?” Mr. Todoroki questioned looking over at you, but your father cut in before you could answer properly.

“Of course it is! Y/N would love that. You two hav-”

“Y/N,” Shoto called, cutting off your father and grabbing yours as well as everyone else’s attention in the room. This was the first time he’s ever used your name, “Would you like to have dinner while our parents continue their conversations?”

This caught you off guard. Why was he repeating the question? Didn’t your father already answer? You weren’t sure how he wanted you to respond so you just recycled your father’s. “Of course, I would love that.”

He seemed almost hesitant, but he nodded. You both excused yourselves, Shoto saying he would take you home when you were done, and waving goodbye. He helped you into his car opening the door for you, then doing the same for himself. You were driving in silence for a bit before he broke the ice with a question. “Does your father always speak for you?”

It struck you as odd, why would he care about something like that? Was it because of what happened earlier, or just pure curiosity? Either way, you weren’t sure how to respond. The truth was that he did, but you weren’t sure it was the best idea to answer honestly. If it ever got back to your father, you were sure he would consider it slander and wouldn’t take too kindly to it, so you decided to lie instead.

“No, he’s just a bit excited.”

“Are you?”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Are you excited?” He repeated a bit louder, as if it was his volume that was the problem, and not the outlandish question. What were you supposed to say now, were you just going to have to continue to lie to him until the questions stop? You weren’t sure that was your best option so instead, you opted to change the subject.

“Where are we going?”

“A restaurant, it’s supposed to be one of the best in town, but if you don’t like it we can go somewhere else.”

“No, no, no, we won’t have to do anything like that. I’m sure it’s great. I was just curious.”

It was awkward after that, but it seemed your plan had worked since the rest of the car ride was spent in silence, until you arrived at your destination. You were practically seated the second you walked through the door, and you were certain it was due to his status and family name. Once again, he was a gentleman, pulling your chair out for you, before seating himself.

“Please order what you’d like, everything here is supposed to be delicious, but again, if you don’t like anything, it’s not a problem if we leave.”

“I doubt that’ll be necessary, the food here looks incredible,” you commented glancing around at the plates of the people around you. Completely unaware of the smallest sigh of relief coming from the man in front of you. The day he met you was an accident. A company party he didn’t even want to attend, but he did, not for his father, but for his mother. She said since his father’s company will one day be his, it was important to start building relationships now. Although, he never intended to take over the company, it was for his mother, so he tagged along, and amidst the crowd of people, he spotted you. You looked just as bored to be here as he did, around his age too. He couldn’t help but be drawn to you.

You kept getting introduced to different crowds, pulled along everywhere by your father, who if anything, seemed to treat you more as a trophy than a daughter. Kept making sly comments and insults disguised as jokes, but he could tell how to hurt you were by them. 

Enough seemed to be enough since you excused yourself to the balcony. He thought now was the perfect chance to introduce himself. He slipped away, following you outside, but froze just outside the door, the sound of light sniffling catching his ear. You were… crying? He couldn’t see you now… not like this. So he retreated.

You came out as if nothing had happened, but he could see the slight puff to your eyes and red nose even from a distance. He wanted to hold you, tell you everything was going to be alright, he would help, help you escape your miserable life. But now wasn’t the time for that, now was the time for planning.

“Todoroki?” You called out, breaking him away from his thoughts of the past.

“Yes?”

“I said, do you know what you want yet? I’m having a hard time deciding.”

“No, not yet. And you can call me Shoto. Were engaged, it only seems right that a wife calls her husband by his first name.” He saw you flinch at his words, a pang shooting through his chest in response. Did you really hate the idea of marrying him that much? But it was all for you?

“Of course, Shoto.” It was mundane and emotionless, and you quickly brought the subject back onto the menu after. Leaving him feeling a bit empty. He really wanted the first time you called him by his name to mean something, but you weren’t ready yet. That was obvious. Still, he would show you what a great husband he could be. Soon you’ll call out his name with love, and then, and only then will it finally be worth it.

Meeting number two.

"Do you Shoto Todoroki, take Y/N, to be your lawfully wedded wife, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?"

“I do.”

How many days had you spent crying up until now? You could barely remember, just thinking about it made you nauseous. You were living your father’s dream, but your nightmare. Growing up you used to think this would be the happiest day of your life, so then why are you so miserable.

“Y/N?” Your fiancée whispered, snapping you back to your current situation. Had the priest already repeated his lines for you? Well, this must be it then.

“I do.” You respond quietly, the words leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” His hand came up to the side of your face, eyes searching for approval before he leaned in. You nodded, signaling to him that it was okay, and just wanting to get this over with.

He was soft and gentle, but there was a bit of hunger behind the kiss. Though it was over quickly, having you doubt if it was even there to begin with. You both continued on, the rest of the ceremony proceeding in a blur.

Meeting number three.

“We don’t have to do anything you know. I know most married couples spend their first night together, but don’t force yourself”

You sat there in silence as your fian-... no, your husband removed his tie. You already forced yourself to marry him, what’s wrong with forcing the rest of the life out of your body. You just wanted this all to be over, you were ruined now. Every last bit of your sanity was worn down. Your father got his wish, but where was your happiness in this mess. Why was the rest of your life sacrificed for a company you couldn’t care less about. Why? Why did you go through with this? You don’t even-

“I don’t even love you.” You spat out, unable to stop the words from flowing out of your mouth. Anger, sadness, and all your emotions boiling over, only made worse by his response.

“Yes, you do.”

“No. No, I fucking don’t! I fucking despise you. I fucking hate you, and your entire family.” The family you never wanted to be a part of.

“Our entire family,” he corrected. Only pissing you off further. Was that really all he was concerned about? You needed to get out of here. You couldn’t stand being around him, he only reminded you of how unhappy you were.

The second you stood up from sitting on the bed, he was walking over.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving. I can’t be-”

“You’re not leaving me, we’re married. You and I are the same, both stuck living for others instead of ourselves. You may not like my family, but you hate your own even more. You were so miserable with them, I had to save you. I couldn’t let you live like that.”

What the hell was he talking about. ‘Save you.’ What did that even mean? How did he even know how you felt about your family? Nothing he was saying was making sense to you, and seeming to pick up on your confusion, Shoto let out a sigh before speaking up.

“I saw you at one of our company meetings. How hurt you were. How you cried when you thought no one was around. I saw me in you, and I knew I had to rescue you. So I talked to my father about an… an arranged marriage.” You started feeling sick, as he continued his explanation. “There were rules, I would have to take over the company, continue to go to the meetings until it was time for me to take over. I didn’t want to, but if it would bring me closer to you, and get you safely in my arms. I agreed.”

You felt your world stop. So it was him. It was his fault you were so miserable. It was his fault this whole godforsaken marriage was even brought up. All because… all because he thought he was saving you? You wanted to puke, but not more than you wanted to hit him.

“I hate you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I hate you.” Again you tried to leave, only for him to grab your arm and throw you back on the bed, towering himself over you. It didn’t hurt, only surprised you because never once had he been so forceful with you, but you suppose you were finally starting to find out all kinds of stuff about him.

“You love me. Were meant for each other. If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been someone else your father married you off to. Your life was never your own, but I can help you. We can live any life we want as long as it’s together. Just don’t leave me. I can’t let you. No one out there cares for you as much as I do. Just look around. All of this. All of it was for you. No one else. Because I love you, and deep down you feel the same. If you leave me now who will you have? No one. Your family will turn their backs on you, and you’ll be completely alone.” You lowered your head as tears began streaming down your face only to have him wipe them away, and pull you close. You did your best to protest, finding his touch revolting, but he wasn’t letting go no matter how much you struggled. Forcing you to sit there and cry in his arms.

“Shh, cry all you want now, but it’s better this way, you’ll see.” He stroked your back as your tears seeped through his shirt. You were overwhelmed right now, so he wouldn’t tell you more. Learning that he also had to promise his father an heir to pass the company down to might push you over the edge, so for tonight. Just cry in his arms. Tomorrow is a new day, where the two of you can start planning your future together.

[i-am-baechu]

Y/N’s Pov:

Mae’s Pov:

Jungkook’s Pov:

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She finished off her tea and bit her lip when she saw that Mae didn’t text her yet. She shut off her car and decided that she was going to send a text to Mae to meet her inside, to make things easier. She put everything in her purse and grabbed the empty cup to head inside. She wiped her hands off on her pants and walked through the empty parking lot.

She entered the lobby and looked around to see a few workers giving her a small smile. She returned the smile and recycled her cup as she continued to look around with a worried look. The place was empty and the only sound she heard was the heels of the workers and her own movements on the marble flooring. She walked up to a bench and sat on it, waiting for anything from Mae. She put her headphones on and started listening to her music while she read some random news articles on celebrities to kill some time. It was Saturday and she knew Saturdays were always busy no matter where you go. She heard footsteps coming towards her and she assumed it was another worker doing their job. It wasn’t until she heard her name that made her look up with a raised eyebrow. She looked up and saw a man wearing a black bucket hat, a white sweatshirt, black jeans and chunky boots. She tilted her head at him and then glanced at his hands. This caused her eyes to widen, “Jungkook?”

He took off his hat and gave her a smile that showed off his teeth perfectly, “I’m so happy you remember me...”

She blinked her eyes at him and shook her head quickly, “What are you doing here?” 

“Sorry, I wanted to go out with you. I asked Mae to set this up, sorry if this is creepy.” 

She blinked her eyes as she processed what he just said to her in Korean and nodded her head, “Mae knew about this?” 

He nodded his head and scratched the back of his neck with a red face at her perfect Korean, “Sorry, I just wanted to see you again.” 

“I mean I’m happy I get to see you. I mean- it's good to see you again. I like your outfit from what Mae sent me, it's really your aesthetic.” 

“She's been sending you things about me?”

Y/N’s cheeks turned red as she slowly looked down at her shoes but she quickly looked up at him, “Well, I asked about you...Anyways, you wanted to go out with me?” 

He nodded his head and held his hand out towards her and this caused her to look between his hand and face, “If you let me?” 

“I-I mean if you want to...I would love to go out with you...” 

He gave her his signature bunny smile making her heart flutter more. She gently placed her shaky hand into his large ones and he slowly brought her up to him. As she moved up, she couldn’t take her eyes off of him and vice versa. Her face continued to have the red hue as she quickly looked away when she saw his intense stare. He let out a small laugh and he intertwined their fingers together and brought her closer to him. She blinked her eyes with a surprised look but she quickly shook it off by hiding her face into his arm. He looked down at her and gave a small smile. Cute 

The two moved down to look at the first set of paintings and he got to see her in her element. When they walked past certain exhibits, she would give him a history fact or the history about the painting. He thought it was cute how passionate she was towards art and on top of things, he was impressed with how much she knew. At one point, when Y/N was reading up on a piece of art, he hugged her from behind as he rested his chin on the top of her head and she leaned back into his chest.

After awhile, they sat on the bench as Y/N glanced away with shyness when she saw him smile. He was caught in a trance at times, he couldn’t believe that she was in front of him, he honestly didn’t think he would get this chance. A chance to feel normal and a chance to feel his heart flutter. He looked down at her hands and saw her hand was shaking lightly on top of her thighs. He grabbed her hand causing her to look at him with a surprised look, “Are you okay?” 

She nodded her head and smiled at him, “I’m not having a panic attack...I’m just really nervous around you...Don’t worry it's not a bad thing, it's a good thing I swear.” 

He let a smile slip and pushed some of her hair behind her ear, “If I’m going to be honest, I was nervous to see you too.”

“Really?”

He felt his face turn red and he let out a small cough causing her to tilt her head at him, “I-I was just nervous to be around you...Are you sure you're okay?”  

“I’m fine...I guess I’m just hungry and nervous...” 

He nodded his head and let go of her hand making her look at him with a curious look. He took his phone out of his pocket and smiled, “I set up lunch at this Korean bbq place...I was planning on taking you...”

Her face lit up at this and he could swear he saw sparkles in her eyes, “Ohh, I love Korean bbq~.”

She’s so cute, “That’s good. Would you like to go now or wait a few more minutes?” 

“Do you want to go? We can go now if you want. I don’t want you waiting for something you set up because it's your money and your time-”

“Y/N. If you want to stay then just say so.” 

She looked down at her fingers as she started playing with them gently, “Can we go to the store before we go?” 

“Whatever you want...” 

Jungkook stands up and grabs her hand gently as she leaned her head against his arm again. The two walked towards the small store and he watched her eyes light up. She let go of his hand and went straight to the pens with a wide grin. She picked up a pen and showed him the pen with excitement, “Look they have Monet Water Lilies! I don’t have this pen. Oh, they have a rococo style pen!” 

He smiled at the girl's excitement as he pushed up the hoodie's sleeves to help pick out pens with her. She kept showing him the different ones and she explained the paintings on the pens as he showed her the greeting cards that matched the pens. Jungkook grabbed some greeting cards to give to Taehyung and Namjoon but he also watched her grab some greeting cards for herself. 

The two walked out of the museum hand in hand as they walked to her car. She let a smile appear when he opened her door for her. He put his hand out to help her inside the car and she gave him a shy smile. She watched him go to the other side and she let out a dreamy sigh, making sure he wouldn’t hear or see it. When he entered the car, he let out a small laugh when he saw the WJSN and the Twice key chain hanging down on her mirror. She raised her eyebrow when she heard his laugh and looked at what he was looking at and her eyes widened, “Oh my god, please don’t look at it!” 

“Why, I think it's cute.” 

“C-can I have the directions to the Korean bbq place.” 

He nodded his head and as she started her car her music started playing and her face turned redder. Sunrise by Gfriend started playing through her car and she pushed the pause as fast as she could. Jungkook blinked his eyes at this and let out a laugh, “Cute...”

She changed the music to soft classical music and looked at him with a red face, “You can put your phone on my stand for directions.” 

He nods his head and the drive there was filled with soft music playing in the background as the two talked. When she saw the restaurant, she parked the car and Jungkook glanced at her, “Are you ready?” 

“Yeah...thank you for taking me out.” 

“I wanted to see you again...let's go eat.” 

She nodded her head and she grabbed her purse but before she could open the door, Jungkook grabbed her hand. She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow as he let out a small laugh, “Do you really think I would let you open your door?”

She blinked her eyes and tilted her head, “I mean, I can open the door myself. I have no problem with it.”

“I want to open it for you and help you out, it makes me happy.”

She smiled at this and nodded her head, “Okay...Jungkook, can you help me out?”

Fuck shes so cute, “Of course.” 

The two enter the restaurant and they go towards a private area, making Y/N excited. She has never seen this area in any restaurant and she realized how nice the area was compared to the normal area. He pushed out her chair for her and she gave him a small smile and a soft thank you. The two sat at the table and she ordered water while Jungkook ordered beer. He glanced at her and pouted slightly, “You don’t drink alcohol?” 

“Oh no...I...I just don’t like it.”

He nodded his head when he heard her tone and decided to change the subject, “So...did you ever figure out what your favorite song was at the concert?”

She blushed at this and took a sip of her water, trying her best to calm her heart, “If I tell you, you can’t make fun of me.”

“I won’t.”

“I really liked your solo performance...you looked really good.” 

His face instantly turned into a smirk and leaned forward making Y/N face turn redder, “That’s good to hear. What was your favorite part?” 

“I-I-I just liked the whole thing.” 

“Did you like my outfit the most?”

She let out a small cough and rubbed her hands on her sweat, “Are you excited to eat?” 

“Yeah, especially since you're here with me.”

The two ate their dinner together and continued to have small conversations with each other. During the meal, Jungkook would feed her some of the pork and the daikon to her, making her smile. She did the same but she accidentally dropped some of the kimich on the table because her hands were shaking slightly but he only laughed it off. The two walked out with her leaning her head against his arm and then he surprised her with a kiss on the top of the head, “Neh, Y/N. I was thinking about taking you to the beach.”

“Oh, I love the beach. The waves are so calming, don’t you think.” 

“I don’t care as long as you're with me, I’ll be happy."

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Chapter eleven: With You 💕☁️

↜ Masterlist ↝

¤━¤“Going to a BTS concert with her best friend was an anxiety attack waiting to happen because she only knew a handful of their songs and felt like an intruder but she didn’t want her to go alone. She made two mistakes. Number one, not changing her lockscreen from Irene to something else and number two, wearing a Red Velvet lanyard. When her friend wins a raffle to meet them, everything changes for her and the youngest member; especially when her alarm starts playing Bad Boy in the middle of her sentence.”¤━¤

tag list:

@hannahdinse8 @princess172 @bbl32 @gloomy-k

[writttinggggggggggg]

Tracking Daemyra timeline scenes for episode 7 through their costumes. Let’s go!!

This is a long post, discussing 7 scenes, enjoy!

SCENE 1 - Daemon spying at a harbour 

He’s wearing a classic Daemon hooded cloak here. He loves a slouchy dramatic hood to wear when doing shady shit. You see his shoulder length white hair peeking out in the teaser footage. I’m 100% sure this is him. More on this here (x).

SCENE 2 - Laena’s water burial in Driftmark

Here Daemon and Rhaenyra are both wearing the costumes we’ll see them in for most of this episode (since apparently, it only takes place in 24-48 hours). Rhaenyra is wearing a satin red dress (you can see it just peaking out), under a long black dress-coat that is fastened with ties [for now hehe]. Her hair is neatly braided in coils on top of her head, with a ponytail-braid thing also going on. She wears a pendant necklace and little triangle gem earrings. 

Daemon is wearing a woollen tunic, and possibly a robe (because his leather belt is not visible)?, over a long black sleeved shirt which is leather-like and has a dragon scale texture (similar to the pattern on Nyra’s coat AWH). He’s also wearing black pants, and boots. His shoulder length hair is half-up half-down. In the show so far, Daemon's trademark look is to always have these spiral stitched sleeves, either in white, red, or black. This woollen grey tunic is also the same one he wore in ep 4, with Rhaenyra by the Godswood, and the tunic and robe combo is literally the same funeral outfit he wore to Aemma’s funeral in ep 1. (*sigh* wardrobe loves to recycle for Daemon lmao).

SCENE 3 - Post-burial funeral socialising 

Post-burial the guests all move to the balcony-area to ‘catch up’ after 10 years apart. No major costume changes here, besides Daemon is now robeless. Daemon’s woollen tunic has silver metal clasps, and he is carrying a dagger on his leather studded belt.

SCENE 4 - Romantic moonlit beach walk, and HOOKUP (finally)  

Daemon and Rhaeynra continue to catch up and go for a romantic af stroll along the beach at night (yes they shot it during the day but it’s a night scene). They appear to kiss, and then make their way into the boat wreckage and FINALLY get-it-on. We see Rhaenyra is now coatless, and Daemon unties the back of her dress. Post-sex, their hair is messy, his tunic is unclasped and her dress is not tied properly when she joins him on the shore. Daemon does not look pleased at what he sees on the horizon, I’m assuming it’s Vhagar and Aemond.

 SCENE 5 - Family kid drama, Aemond loses an eye, Alicent tries to stab Rhaenyra

So while Daemon and Rhaenyra were hooking up, I presume the second storyline will be his daughters realising Aemond/Aegon “stole” Vhagar, and then go tell Nyra’s boys and there’s a big old showdown between the kids. Aemond loses his eye while they fight, and then they go running back to Alicent. What’s funny is, Rhaenys looks like she’s just woken up from bed, with her hair down, as she and Corlys rush down the stairs to see what all the commotion is about. You can see Baela and Rhaena, and Jace and Luke but no Daemon and Rhaenyra in the hall. Yet. Rhaenys comes to the aid of the girls, and then at some point, Daemyra shows up to protect the boys. Rhaenyra’s coat is still untied, and her hair is very dishevelled from the beach. Then Alicent (accidentally) cuts Nyra with Viserys' dagger.

SCENE 6 - Daemon being Daemon

I really don’t know if this takes place the same night, because boy so much drama already. But Daemon is clearly up to further shenanigans in the corridor leading to the Hall of Nine in Driftmark. He’s wearing a cream dress shirt, similar to one he was wearing in Pentos, and pants/boots, while he murders? or simply smothers someone unconscious. This surely has to do with Laenor, but whether Daemon is helping Laenor survive an assassination or assisting with his death.. we’ll have to wait and see.

SCENE 5 - Post-Alicent stabbing

From the lightning this looks like it is the next morning, and we know this scene takes place after all the children/family/dragon drama because Rhaenyra has a bandage for her wound on her left wrist from Alicent’s dagger attack. Rhaenyra is wearing a red and black, bedazzled coat with some major fur lining. Her hair is styled the exact same as the funeral, and she wears the same earrings. Daemon is wearing a luxurious robe over his tunic (the same one from Aemma’s funeral), it’s clasped with a silver chain. The way they are all rugged up, and staring contemplatively at the horizon, I get the vibe that they’re about to travel to leave Driftmark.

SCENE 6 - ??? okay now this scene has me confused.

We have so much footage of Miguel directing this scene, so it has to be from episode 7, because this is his last ep. as a director. The lighting against the wall makes it look like it’s a daytime scene. And I would say that it happens at Driftmark during the funeral social stuff because the hair and costumes are the same but… Rhaenyra goes from leaning against the wall, wearing her dress-coat, then she’s in her satin red dress, then she’s the same dress but now it’s SLEEVELESS, and also her braided ponytail is now just a loose ponytail. And this is where it gets even MORE confusing. Daemon is very clearly in the same woollen tunic and black sleeves as the funeral outfit, but then he’s got dishevelled hair, then completely loose hair AND an entire costume change?? He’s basically wearing the outfit he wore at Rhaenyra’s wedding to Laenor: black leather tunic with red studs, Dark Sister strapped to his belt, and red sleeves. What’s also weird about this scene, is the ‘torch bowls’ are gold and have lion faces on them. And the Lion is the symbol of the Lannisters (by comparison the fire sconces in Driftmark have cod like fish-faces on them)... so yeah I’m not sure if this is Driftmark?

And this scene below is also very confusing because the room looks quite different, it looks like it might be Dragonstone? Rhaenyra is wearing the same dress, earrings and necklace but her hair is completely different. There’s no visible braids, it's just a simple half-up half-down, like Daemon’s. And Daemon isn’t in the same woollen tunic we’ve seen so far, he’s wearing a tunic with leather panels on it, and black sleeves not red.

SCENE 7 - Traditional Targaryen wedding  

Finally we get the wedding scene. Total costume change here. Daemon seems to be wearing some type of red tunic robes, and from the close ups it seems that Rhaenyra might be wearing a rich red dress. Her earrings are different, her hair is half-up half-down, and she has a traditional head piece on with tassels. It’s so sweet. We can see they do a blood magic ritual, with hand fasting during the wedding ceremony.

[all-pacas]

I want to preface this by saying that I am, more or less, on your side. I’m not attacking you, and I’m sympathetic to your defensiveness about this. But! I disagree with a lot of these points.

First of all: Ted is the main character. Full stop. Barney was the audience favorite and took over the show after a while, and while we can argue if that was a good thing or not, the protagonist was always Ted. It was his journey we were always watching, his POV we were usually seeing, his narration we were hearing. The later seasons retcon mess of “Ted is still in love with Robin!” is proof of this: if Ted wasn’t the “main character,” we wouldn’t have seen so many episodes from his point of view. We wouldn’t have seen his point of view at all — instead, the show spends and has always spent most of its time focusing on Ted’s thoughts and feelings, both negative and positive. When other characters are upset, we get a scene or two of Ted realizing and reacting to the revelation. When Ted is, we get episodes about it. He tells us directly.

Now, you can like that or hate it or think it’s bad or good! But he is unquestionably the main character of the show.

Now let’s get to the shipping stuff.

Why did I go on a long tract about Ted? Well, first, because he's one of my favorite characters and doesn't deserve the hate just because he's badly written in the last couple of seasons. But also because that's kind of my point when I say B/R shipping was a "mistake." You're not wrong: the show did consciously focus on Barney, lean in to the audience's preferences, etc. But that was the mistake. Not in terms of "what's fun to watch," but in terms of the show having a plan and a plot, having an endgoal, and choosing to keep that end goal. If they didn't want to change their ending, they needed to change their middle. They did not.

Ted and Robin did make sense - in season 1. The entire season, they keep wanting to date but things keep getting in the way. Robin picks her job; Ted meets Victoria; Robin is dating someone else -- they're clearly interested, but they can't get their timing right. (Interestingly, B/R repeats and even recycles a lot of Ted and Robin's S1 timing issues.) The problem is that in the finale, they do get their timing right, they date for a year... and it's fine. That, to me, is the big mistake. Ted and Robin in S2 care about one another, are shown to have looming issues, and ultimately care about one another too much to risk hurting each other. That's fine. That's a perfectly good couple. The problem is that when the show returns to it after, there's no more "will they or won't they." There's no "what could have been." There's no tension. We know what could have been! It was fine! They should have dated for less time, or not at all, or broken up in a different way -- something to keep some sort of tension going, if they wanted people to continue to care about the ship. This is also where "Ted as the main character" is a weakness of the show: we get many, many episodes where it is clear (well written or badly) that Ted still wants Robin. But because the show is often terrible at writing from the women's POV, it often forgets to show us the same from her. On the contrary, they introduce a running joke of Robin having found their sex life boring.

They very carefully avoid having Robin show feelings for Barney for a lot of the show -- even when she's supposed to be interested in him. The Season 4 finale is a kind of hilarious example: we're never told or shown she has an interest in Barney, has a big love confession anyway, and S5 opens with Narrator Ted telling us that she had been fighting her feelings... that, again, the show mostly forgot to show us. To me, this seems intentional (mixed with bad writing). They want to leave Robin's POV ambiguous. They didn't do a good job, but that goes back to my whole "it was a mistake" thing. If we assume the show was supposed to be T/R all along, a lot of the stuff they did was a mistake. But if you assume B/R was the plan, a lot of the stuff is still a mistake, because they didn't write that very well either. The show tried to take a middle path and do both, and failed utterly.

Ted and robin could have won me over if they didnt spend an entire season dedicated to swarkles wedding. Ive seen someone recommended it before, but they could have dedicated only a few episodes to it, and then the rest of the season start showing cracks in their marriage (plus since ted has met her, you can have tracy interacting more with the gang and drop more hints about her fate) . At the very least not going straight from wedding to divorce in one episode would have made the divorce in the finale more understandable

I wrote a whole long thing about this a while back, but frankly, the show never should have gotten them married at all — let alone devoted 4/9 seasons of the show to the pairing.

But honestly I think even the "have them get married in episode one and fall apart in the rest" argument fails, because it fails to address the Ted issue: since Ted is gonna meet Tracy, we know if he and Robin get back together, he's going to dump her for Tracy. And that… is insane. No one would root for that, or for Ted to get back with Robin in the end. Whether Robin is single or not, she and Ted were always doomed because Tracy exists at all.

If I were to do a full rewrite, I would have kept Ted and Robin from dating in Season 2, or had them only date for a little while and break up very abruptly. Then at least you could still play them as wondering what might have been, or as still wanting to date — season 1 does this pretty well, where they just keep missing one another's interest. Then I'd have Ted and Robin almost get together at the end of the series, only for there to be one last miscommunication and for Ted to meet Tracy. That way, there'd still be an unresolved interest and tension, and a question of "what might have been…" instead of "we dated and broke up because we're incompatible, and never had much interest in trying again."

[svucarisiaddict]

I have this Sonny x reader thought where they have just started dating. Trying to finding there way, having fun and lots of amazing kissing and sex with one another as you do in a new relationship. But it's not yet defined. The L word hasn't been said nor has she mentioned the word boyfriend. Maybe he's jealous and frustrated because he wants to be more to her. She is thinking maybe thinks he wants it more casual because he's pining for someone else. I don't know but thinking needs some angst make up sex or whatever. Sorry if it's too specific or you have written sometime similar before.... feel free to delete.

//filling two requests with this one. It will be a continuation of the One Night Stand request//

Finally, you were home. The last month had been a whirlwind. You shook your head at the absurdity of the events. The one and only one-night stand you ever had or planned to have ended up being an ADA. Not just any ADA. The ADA you would have to work with on a daily basis.

You took a beer from the refrigerator and popped it open with the magnetic bottle opener. It took about 30 seconds for you to chug it down. You let out a satisfying belch then tossed the bottle into the recycle bin.

Mr. Fritos jumped onto the counter beside you. He rubbed against you, his purring loud in the virtually empty apartment. You stroked his soft, silky fur. “You hungry?”

He meowed in response. 

After feeding Mr. Fritos, you found Chinese from several days prior. You smelled it to make sure it was good then popped it in the microwave. The microwave and your phone dinged at the same time. 

It was probably your mom checking in to see how your day went. You furrowed your brow when you didn’t recognize the number. Typically you would just delete the number without reading it but the number was local so you opened the text.

‘HI, Y/N. This is Sonny. Can you meet me for coffee?’

This was the first communication you had with Sonny since you had dinner with him after your first day with SVU. This was also the day after having a one-night stand with Sonny. You sighed contemplating whether you wanted to reply. It wasn’t appropriate to have a relationship with an ADA that would be trying the cases you investigated. Assuming Sonny wanted a relationship. Maybe you were being presumptuous. 

‘Sure. Where and when?’ you answered.

An hour later you were walking into a local coffeehouse. The aroma of fresh ground coffee filled the air. It was one of your favorite smells. The small cafe was essentially empty so finding Sonny was an easy task.

He waved and smiled when he saw you enter. And you couldn’t help yourself but smile back. Those dimples did something to you.

“I’m going to grab a coffee,” you informed Sonny when you made it to the table.

Sonny picked up a paper cup and handed it to you. “Two creams, two sugars,” Sonny said in explanation when you gave him a questioning look. “I’ve seen you make your coffee. That’s not to say I watch you like in a creepy way…” he trailed off.

“Thank you,” you said sitting across from Sonny. It was sweet that he knew how you took your coffee. There had been plenty of times you and Sonny were getting coffee at the same time or had heard you call your order out to whoever was making a coffee run.

For a few moments, the only sounds were the murmurs of conversation around you, the sputtering of the espresso maker, and the light acoustic music playing over the speakers.

“So,” you said in unison. 

“Go ahead,” Sonny said.

“I was just wondering why you wanted to meet,” you asked.

Sonny pursed his lips. “I’ve been thinking about that night that we, you know,” he smirked.

You felt your cheeks flush. “Yeah, I know what you mean. You’ve been thinking about it, huh?”

“I have indeed.” Sonny ran his forefinger over his bottom lip. “I’d like to see more of you,” Sonny said in a low voice.

“You haven’t seen enough of me? I mean neither of us was very shy that night,” you asserted, giving Sonny a knowing look.

Sonny chuckled. “Ya got me there.” He continued to look at you. “Listen, I like you. I’d like to go out again and get to know one another.”

You looked up from your coffee a small smile forming. “That sounds nice.”

When you rolled out of bed that morning Sonny had already left. It felt weird waking up at his place without him. He left a note on the kitchen counter. ‘Fresh coffee in the go cup, and an apple pastry. I’ll see you at some point today. Be safe.’

Sonny was always thoughtful. You picked up the pastry and took a large bite. It was so tasty with a flaky crust, real fruit filling, and a sweet glaze. And the coffee was of course perfect. Sonny always ground his own coffee and then stored it in the freezer. He said it made the coffee stay fresh longer.

‘Thanks for breakfast. I’ll be safe. Always am. You be careful too,’ you texted back to Sonny. Picking up the go cup of coffee you headed for the shower.

Upon entering the squad room you saw Sonny. He was leaning against Amanda’s desk laughing at something she said. There was something about the interaction that seemed intimate. Sonny was very attentive to Amanda. How had she not noticed it before? The way he looked at her, the way her hand rested on his forearm, she knew he was at Amanda’s place frequently. You thought they were friends, that he was helping Amanda with the girls but now it was clear. Sonny loved Amanda or at least had some deep feelings for her. He never looked at you that way. 

“Morning, Y/N,” Amanda said in greeting when you passed her desk.

“Morning,” you responded giving her a tight smile.

Sonny caught your eye. “Morning, Y/L/N,” he said, standing upright.  

“Counselor,” you said, nodding toward him then looked away making yourself busy getting your belongings in order for the day.

He pushed off Amanda’s desk and walked over to your area. “How was breakfast?” Sonny ran his finger along the edge of your desk.

“It was fine. Thank you,” you answered flatly. When Sonny didn’t say anything or leave you asked, “Did you need anything else ADA Carisi?”

Sonny’s brows shot up in surprise at your terse tone. “You okay?” he asked leaning in closer to you. “Are you mad at me for something?”

“No.”

“Okay, so what is-” Sonny started.

“I don’t think we should spend time together. Not for a while anyway,” you countered.

Sonny’s wounded look made you cringe. You didn’t want to hurt him That wasn’t the intention at all. But you couldn’t risk being hurt by him when he clearly wanted to be with Amanda and was using you to pass time.

“Why?” he asked softly. “I thought we were getting along well. Can we talk about it?”

“Can you please just leave me alone, please?” you said a little louder than you meant to causing people to turn your way.

“I- have a good day detective,” he replied, knocking on your desk as he left.

In your peripheral, you saw Liv watching the interaction between you and Sonny. She didn’t say anything but furrowed her brow.

You smiled at her and rolled your eyes trying to make light of the situation. She watched you for another beat then turned to go back into her office. 

The day seemed to go by at a snail's pace. It gave you time to get caught up on paperwork. Needing a break, you went to get a cup of coffee. Amanda and Fin were standing at the coffee maker waiting for a fresh pot to brew. 

“Hey, kid,” Fin said. “Got any fun plans for the weekend?”

“Not really. Might have dinner with my brother. You?”

“Yeah. Ken and his family are coming over for a big dinner tomorrow night,” he answered. Fin was a proud father and grandfather no doubt. A big smile crossed his face when he talked about them. “What are you doing Rollins?”

“Taking the girls to Central Park Zoo,” she replied. “Sonny’s tagging along. I’m so thankful for him. He’s great with the girls.”

Before you could say anything Liv called out to you. “Y/L/N. Carisi needs you to go over your testimony.”

“What? Now?” you asked.

“Yes. Now,” she said asserted. 

Amanda handed you the first cup of coffee from the pot. “Here. You might need this.” She grabbed packets of sugar and creamer along with a stirrer. 

“Thanks.” As you left the precinct you couldn’t help but think that you were headed for a fight and part of you wanted one.