#if you wanted a third party to be any SORT of contender

[tevruden]

Repeat after me:

"No third-party candidate has won the presidency since the Republican Party became a major party in the mid-19th century."

[whetstonefires]

20 Questions for Fic Writers Tag Game

@kiragecko tagged me in! (17 is missing, gecko, did it come that way or was that you?)

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

167 on my main account, plus the ones posted to my personal anon collection under a pseud so as to archive my ffdotnet juvenilia without spamming my nice subscribers with stuff from 2004. Also I think three E-rated fics on the account I made just for that, for similar reasons? So like. 190ish? idk

2. what’s your total AO3 word count?

1,306,169 + 115,249 + the anon fics like hell am i doing that math

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Actively, right now? Mostly mdzs, little scum villain. Idk I have developed a compulsion. Got open fics I'm still technically working on for Batman and ffvii, too.

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All the Roofs of Uncertainty Jason-centric Batman fic from almost 10 years ago, complete

in the shadows an unimaginatively titled batman AU where Batman is basically the feral imaginary friend of Bruce Wayne, who died twenty years ago, which I'm still updating occasionally but it's told in standalone vignettes so it's basically a complete fic at any given time

and judgment is just like a cup that we share a Scum Villain identity reveal fic where the main conceit was subjecting Shen Qingqiu to having the plot explained to the other characters by a third party who didn't give a damn. complete.

The Till-Then From the Ever-Since a sort of batfam...mass time travel/deaging premise?? long on hiatus but technically not abandoned.

the tune without the words one of my first fics on a03, i think; jim gordon and jason todd and secret ID related dramatic irony. oneshot.

5. do you respond to comments?

Regularly! Not reliably though. Often I forget, or don't have the spoons, or I notice that I'm not making progress on my fic because I'm writing replies instead and well. Probably the readers would not prefer that, actually.

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

I don't know?? I'm not even a good judge of what an unhappy ending is because I like 'em wide open and a lot of readers disagree. It's been 20 years I've been at this idk idk.

Wait I do know. I didn't post it because I was worried people would be mad at me.

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Idk this either. I don't really classify them this way? The one I just finished, they keep the phoenix in a bamboo cage, is probably a contender? it ends on a note of laughter, with the canonical main pairing reunited, at home in their house, their relationship probably rather stronger for the trial it just went through, being affectionate, with no particular problems looming on the horizon.

8. do you get hate on fics?

Very rarely? There was memorably a person who went after me for mentioning in an author's note that, according to studies, having a gun present primes people toward violent solutions to problems, even solutions that don't utilize the gun, so having the hospital take Jason's guns away was psychologically important.

Mostly people just get weirdly condescending sometimes lmao.

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

Recently, yes! Uhm, kind, I don't know what classification system this is meant to refer to. I guess I write the kind of smut that uh, is invested in how desire intersects other forms to attachment and attraction to other people, and how communication works, or doesn't work???

Idk. I got into it in large part as a writing exercise because it requires describing physical positions in some detail without growing boring, and I've always been complimented on that in fight scenes and hugs and so on, so I wanted to see how far I could go.

10. do you write crossovers?

Occasionally? They're very hard to do to my own satisfaction, because the tonal and stylistic things that are normally easier to manage consistently in fic because you have a pattern to imitate all become freighted with choice.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of?? Uh, I think maybe some of my stuff showed up on one of those weird aggregator sites at one point, which I didn't like but don't qualify as stolen since they did leave my name on it, they just tried to imply I'd voluntarily posted it with them. Which is less stealing the fic to my mind than appropriating my fannish identity.

I did get some nice people telling me I might have an impersonator when I started crossposting fic to AO3 under a different pen name lmao.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! Two batman fics into Chinese. I don't think they finished Roofs. I think there were a couple others but they're gone or not tagged as related works or something? Hm. Anyway very cool. Big fan.

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

Not really. I have a couple I brainstormed with other people, and me and @husborth kind of worked together on the empress padme AU which was her idea, but we coordinated very badly and kept stepping on one another's plans and gave up.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I...by the wordcount it's gotta be wangxian, right? I don't normally ship at all really. I was very pleased with my Harley/Jokester mirror universe ship though; they were so married.

I guess that's what I like in a ship??? Ludicrous devotion? Yeah if people aren't life partner goals I don't even care.

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

Um. The YuYuHakusho/Natsume Yuujinchou crossover. I did most of the brainstorming for that with my sister, who knows the natsume timeline better, and without her it was difficult to make satisfactory progress. I did try watching the anime but I have so much trouble watching that show in order. The continuity is so subtle.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I have a lot of these! Idk what they are right now. Feels awkward to try to isolate them.

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

Weirdly specific question lmao. Well, it all comes down to narrative distance, doesn't it? The effect you want.

An omniscient narrator is most likely to just report the content of a remark, and then add something about what language it was said in if relevant, but sometimes you want to create a sense of alienation between speaker and reader, and then the omniscient narrator would give a word-for-word report of what specifically was vocalized.

If you're riding a character for their point of view, how they report dialogue they don't understand becomes a characterization issue. Most people who don't speak a language are not going to pick up its syllables very cleanly; a person who does report words in an unknown language precisely is showing a lot about their capacities and attention. A character who attempts to note an approximation of the sounds they're hearing even though their phonetics are shaky and they can't identify the word breaks is different from one who just sums the unknown words up as 'incomprehensible,' unless the latter is a result of the narrative getting on with things because the specifics of the dialogue aren't important. And so forth.

There's probably not really a wrong way to approach this, just the right tool for the job.

Extended blocks of dialogue produced by google translate are probably rarely the right tool though.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Inuyasha lmao. Or maybe there was a spiderman fic before I knew what fic was?

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Dumb question, I refuse.

mmmmm tagging. I always forget everybody's tumblrs at moments like this. already tagged jd, who might not want to do it due to having deleted at least one account before so the numbers will be fake. @omokers @beatrice-otter @curlicuecal @brawltogethernow @audreycritter

[blackboar]

Did the large-scale rebellion of the York Party during the reign of henry vii mean that the desire to unite the two forces through marriage with Elizabeth of York failed?

Good question. My personal opinion is that the marriage between Elizabeth of York and Henry VII wasn't meant to unite anything because there was nothing to unite.

The Lancastrian faction was dead for a long time when Henry VII became king. Sure, it allowed the rehabilitation of some diehard Lancastrian opponents like Jasper Tudor and John de Vere, but those were a few individuals. The rest was already integrated into Yorkist England.

Henry VII was the chosen figurehead of anyone opposed to Richard III and loyal to Edward IV's children. Elizabeth of York was the heiress for those people, but as a woman, people were reluctant to let her rule. Just so you know, no queen ruled in her own right in England until 1553; in 1553, every contender for the throne was a woman.

So those people wanted someone to champion Elizabeth's claim, restore her and vindicate Edward V. As an exile with little enmity in England, royal blood, connection with French and Briton courts and influential family connections (the Wells, Stanleys, etc...), Henry Tudor was a perfect pick sold by his mother. His Lancastrian background mattered for his prestige, but he wasn't heading any faction, it just granted him loose useful connections due to family ties and the ability to wink at some Lancastrian nostalgist like Oxford.

His victory at Bosworth is the victory of one Yorkist faction against another. Lovell, Lincoln or Margaret of York either outright supported Edward V's deposal or tacitly let it happen. They don't care about his sister and it's sure isn't any sort of reconciliation for them considering they opposed her future husband on the battlefield. The battle of Stoke isn't a failure of unifying anything, just the end of a third war of the Roses between Edwardian and Ricardian Yorkists.

However, Perkin Warbeck do indicate less a failure from the Tudor-York instalment than his frailty. This challenge was partly a split inside the Edwardian faction between those who believed he was Richard and those who didn't or who had a stronger loyalty toward Henry VII. I says frailty because there wasn't much large-scale uprising here. The strongest sign of a split was the Household plot and it was discovered before it came into fruition. The Cornish rebels rosed for reasons unrelated to royal succession and allied to Perkin in desperation. Eventually, the Tudor settlement remained broadly strong although it was served by chance.

Thanks for the question!

[thedisneychef]

The Year of a Million Dreams Blue Glo-tini

My heart has such a warm spot for the Blue Glo-Tini... It’s like the Walt Disney World mixed drink mascot for me. Believe it or not (I know you won’t but that’s OK) I had never actually had much in the way of alcohol before sipping this sweet little drink back in 2008. Maybe that’s why this drink is synonymous with the adult side of Disney for me now? Now I know it’s kind of early to dub a recipe from 4 years ago a classic, but I think this certainly could be a contender. (Editor’s note… This was originally written in 2012. It’s now been 7 years, we can call this a classic recipe… Because I say so). First of all, it comes from just about the best Disney promotion in recent memory, Disney’s “Year of a Million Dreams,” a promotion that was so much fun, it lasted over 2 years and I keep hoping will come back. There were special shows, parades, characters, and people chosen at random for all sorts of special magical moments, everything from dream Fast Passes to special lanyards, pins, or Mickey ears, to overnight stays in Cinderella’s Castle, even a whirlwind trip over 15 days to every Disney theme park in the world. I wish I could tell you the excitement that came with seeing the Dream Squad with their baby blue shirts and crisp white vests walking towards you with big smiles and unlimited wish-granting potential, making your mind reel with the possibility at what you were about to receive, what wish was going to be granted… And then watching in disappointment as they choose the family in front of you to carry Dream FastPasses and take an exclusive behind-the-magic tour with an Imagineer.  Because that’s my luck. To this day I blow right through the Dinosaur gift shop because I know that the need to look at dyed agate and the same fossilized rocks sold at every knick knack store across the country cost me Dream FastPasses back in 2008.  Am I bitter?  Maybe only a little. Luckily for bad planners like me, there were a variety of special drinks available across all of the parks to help drown away the sorrow that came with losing out to a wish granted, my favorite being the Blue Glo-tini. I had my first (and second and third) drink at Coral Reef in EPCOT and I remember our server talking about  how, when he lost power due to a hurricane, all he had were the blue ice cubes served in the drink to light up his apartment for 2 days. I won’t lie, I ordered the drink for the blue light-up ice cube. I’m not much of a drinker, not a fan of martinis, and it wasn’t covered under the Disney Dining Plan and paying $8.50 for a drink was against everything I stood for. But it looked so cool, I just had to give it a shot. It was so good, I ordered two more, had one of the best meals I’ve had at Disney, and remember very little about walking back to the bus that took us to our hotel. I do remember telling a security guard he was doing a great job, though. While the “Year of a Million Dreams” is long gone, the special signature drink of the event lives on at a variety of restaurants in both the parks and at the resorts, renamed as simply the Blue Glo-tini. A word of warning: they’re stronger than you think. Looking for more adult fun from Disney? I have plenty of recipes to choose from, including the Triple Yeti Blast, the Key Lime Coconut Martini, and the Magical Star Cocktail. You know you want to try these out for your next party… They’re all incredible! How about you guys? What’s your favorite mixed drink at Disney? Are there specialty drinks you miss more than anything? Have you ever praised a cast member for their good work after having perhaps one-too-any Glo-Tinis? Read the full article

[ultramaga]

They want to monetise making money from streaming your own dnd game. I’ve seen companies threaten things like that, and it staggers me how insane it is.  That’s free marketing of your product. Right there.  Not only that, but it seems to me that, legally, you should be allowed to do that for profit; perhaps only changing the names to protect copyright, and maybe monster designs, but if you make money from showing yourself with miniatures that you collected, why should they be able to get money from that? Not to mention they want to push ttrpgs into basically online games, which is pretty pointless. Those who want to use VTTs are already doing so - saying that you can’t play without a VTT just means that a lot will just grab one of the free alternatives, and there are many cheaper games out there with systems that are just as good. IMO, it was the lore of DnD that held it together, and most of that has been abandoned, with differences erased. A halfling is now as strong as an ogre! That’s insane. But they say it’s racist to have stat differences. I saw someone posting on tumblr about how great it was that they have driven straight people out of DnD, and I thought they kind of have succeeded in that, at least as far as 5th edition goes, and since DND ONE is supposed to require some sort of login, they could actually do this, by just searching for the social media etc of the players.  They could ban white people, straight people, people with only one L in their names - they could, and from past history, will ban those suspected of voting for Trump, or opposing child castration. Back in the days of TSR, Judges Guild put out many modules for DnD. 

Most were a mixed bag, but old schoolers often have good memories of ones like Tegel Manor and ...

I don’t know if TSR got a cut from it. But I do know that the game wouldn’t have been nearly as successful without the gonzo fun of third party products.

Heck, Paizo’s Pathfinder exists because dnd3e was shafted in favour of 4e, and nobody wanted that shit. Rolemaster was created as a supplement to DnD, basically homebrew critical tables long before DnD mainstream had them. It has a special place in my heart, even though the attempts to be more realistic slowed combat down, and took from the heroic aspects of the game. Rolemaster has faded now, but it was a serious contender at one time. It also had the Tolkien licenses to a huge number of LotR modules. If anything, that made the campaigns better than anything from the TSR or WotC stables. It did mean you either rolled up a lot of characters (and character generators are pretty popular) or there was a lot of dice fudging. Here’s an example of a more recent conversion of monsters from 5e to rolemaster: https://www.rolemasterblog.com/1168-2/ So i can see alternatives flowering again, and pretty quickly. Either monsters will be converted, or made anew. It’s not that hard to migrate most characters to new systems. And the lore? Well, the old lore doesn’t exist in DnD any more, and as Gary Gygax said in 1975, every DM should be running their own world, with their own rules, and only using the standardized rules for tournaments. DnD doesn't need WotC anymore Lawyer-gamer analyzes WOTC's announcement of a revised OGL for D&D (Rules Lawyer) Dungeons & Dragons DAMAGE CONTROL? WotC Boss Addresses DnD and MTG Player Backlash! WoTC's Money Grab OGL

Rolemaster was a game that really needed apps to play properly in my opinion, because looking up charts halted things too much, but man were some of the crits fun.

So, let's go over everything Wizards of the Coast is trying to do this coming year.

>Erasing everything that made DnD fun

>Sanitizing everything to appease a minority of leftist puritans

>Making anyone who wants to play DnD pay microtransactions

>Making anyone who makes anything based off of DnD pay royalties to Wizards of the Coast

I hope the company fucking crashes and burns, Hasbro failed to claim TSR as their own now we just need it all to crash and burn so TSR can make a big comeback.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

The Moment I Knew My Future Was Sweet

pairing: spencer reid x fem reader

summary: spencer Reid plans a surprise birthday for his best friend/love of his life, Y/N. the one hang up though is that Ian, y/n’s boyfriend does not show up. 

warnings: crying, kissing, love, another taylor swift inspired fic because she’s a lyrical genius and i’m obsessed...

word count: 4315 

author’s note: i was listening to the moment i knew and was thinking that it would make a good fic! 

masterlist: (click <-) 

The Moment I Knew My Future Was Sweet

Spencer was completely lost looking for purple and white birthday party decorations. He’d searched at least three different stores for Y/N’s favorite shade of purple. Penelope had been helping him plan her surprise birthday party and it was Spencer’s job to get the decorations. 

“Hey! Reid, look what I found,” Penelope shouted as she ran up the aisle to meet Spencer. 

She was carrying what looked like colorful cardboard picture frames that had “Birthday Girl” and all sorts of Happy Birthday messages and funny sayings written on the edge. 

“Don’t you think Y/N will just love these?” Garcia asked as she tossed them in the cart. 

“Oh, I’m not really sure what those are but, I’m sure she’ll love it!” Spencer said. 

“It’s for taking pictures,” Garcia explained. “You hold them up to your face and take cute photos”

Spencer nodded in understanding. Y/N loved to take pictures and even though Spencer would rather not be photographed, their smiling faces littered her Instagram page. 

“Thanks for helping with this, Garcia. I really just want to make this special for her. Y/N is just so amazing,” Spencer stopped himself because out of the corner of his eye he noticed Penelope’s raised eyebrows. His cheeks turned slightly pink at her reaction. 

“Come on, Spencer! You should just tell her that you love her,” Garcia said waving her hands in the air. 

“She has a boyfriend, Garcia,” Spencer snapped.

“I know, but Spencer, who's the guy that’s planning her surprise party? Who’s the man that’s in every single selfie that she posts Instagram? Who’s the team member that she always rooms with?”

“Garcia, she’s with Ian. I’m not going to ruin our friendship by telling that I love her. She’s with Ian and I’m not a home wrecker”

“You just both deserve to be happy, Spencer. She loves you. I just know she does,” Garcia and Spencer walked over to the cashier to pay for the decoration. 

“If she’s happy, then I can live with it. Even if it feels like it’s breaking me” Spencer said at the constant beeping from the register rung in his ears. 

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“JJ, is that the food?” Garica called as she walked out of the kitchen into the small living room. 

“Yes, Will’s coming in with the rest of the food from the car. Any word from Spence yet on where he and the birthday girl are?” JJ said as she placed down a tray of food onto the kitchen counter top. 

“Spencer mentioned that he’s going to drive her over here. He should be getting there soon. She’s got no idea!” Garcia said excitedly. 

“That’s sweet. What did Ian think of that?” JJ asked with a questioning tone. 

Garcia threw her a look that caused JJ to raise her eyebrows.

“Spencer and Y/N are in love with each other. She won’t do anything because she feels like she’s with the kind of person that she deserves. Y/N is stuck in a loveless relationship because Spencer doesn’t think that she loves him. They love each other, Jayge,” Garcia said. 

“And you aren’t the profiler,” JJ teased. 

“I spend my days and nights with you all, it’s time that I picked up on all that profiler nonsense.” Garcia said, swatting JJ on the arm playfully. 

“That or my obsession with period dramas. Jayge, the pinning is so strong with those too.” 

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Spencer knocked on the door to Y/N apartment at 11:32 AM. The time was important because he calculated that it would take her 45 seconds to walk from her couch, look through the peephole, unlock the door and open the door. In those 45 seconds, it would turn 11:33 AM, which was the time that Y/N was born. 

Sure enough, the door opened and Spencer was greeted by a smiling Y/N. 

“Happy Birthday, Y/N. Happy Birthday!” Spencer yelled from across the doorway. 

“Oh my god! Spencer, how, I can’t,” Y/N said looking quite startled. 

Launching herself from the inside of her apartment, Y/N threw her arms around Spencer’s neck. He seemed to forget himself and allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of her in his arms. Even though he was the one holding her, he never felt as safe as he did then in that moment. 

“Thank you, Spencer. And you even came at the time I was born! Ah, what do I do to deserve you, Spencer. You’re-” Y/N starts. 

“Hey, none of that. It’s your day. Your birthday, Y/N. Oh, I got you flowers. Um, but I think that we may have crushed them” Spencer said sheepishly.

Y/N looked at the purple and yellow flowers that Spencer held in her hand, along with a small package with purple wrapping and green ivy decorations. 

“Oh, come inside, Spence and I’ll put those in water,” Y/N said, leading him in by the hand.  

They walked into her kitchen and she reached to the third shelf of the cabinet and grabbed a vase. Spencer watched as she filled it with water and crushed up a baby aspirin to dissolve in the water. Y/N fluffed out the semi-crushed flowers with a small smile plastered to her face. She looked up at Spencer, who was a little embarrassed to be caught staring at her. 

“I love them, Spencer. They are so beautiful,” Y/N said walking over to tug slightly on his jacket sleeve. 

“I’m glad. Have you heard from your parents, or uh,” Spencer stops for a second, calculating if he should go down that road, “or Ian?” 

“My mom called me, but no, I haven’t heard from Ian. He’s never been big on birthdays or holidays anyway, you know. He’s relaxed like that, I guess” Y/N reasons, more with herself than with Spencer, who just stares at her trying to figure out why in the world her boyfriend would not be here spending her birthday with her.

“Well, we have the whole day to ourselves, Y/N! We can go get brunch or take a walk in the park, anything you want to do, we’ll do it!” Spencer said, smiling at her.

“There’s any other way that I’d want to spend my birthday, than with you, Spencer.” 

There it was again. A palatable tension in the air between the two of them. It wasn’t awkward, necessarily, just so apparent and thick that it could not possibly be ignored.

“I have something else for you,” Spencer started as he grabbed the package from the counter and handed it Y/N. 

“Oh, Spence! You didn’t have to do that” Y/N said with an excited look on her face. 

She opened the carefully wrapped package and tossed the paper on the flood with an eager grin on her face. Inside the small white box was a gold ring with intricately woven vines attached to a delicate chain link necklace. Y/N ran her fingers over the ring and necklace, almost like she couldn’t believe that it was real. 

“Spence,” She started, but a small tear pooled in the corner of her eye and she tried to wipe it away with the hem of her cardigan. 

“You really didn’t have to do this, I can’t even think of how you found this. It’s exactly like her’s! Oh, Spencer” Y/N said reaching forward to clasp her hands with his. 

“Will you put it on for me,” She asked him, pulling her hair from her neck and moving closer to Spencer. 

Spencer grabbed the necklace, a replica of her grandmother’s engagement ring, and tenderly latched the clasp. She felt her heart flutter slightly with the sensation of Spencer’s warm breath against her neck. His fingers burned against her skin as he moved her hair back from her shoulder to it’s familiar spot. 

Spencer was very aware of the fact that if she’d lean back, her head would rest perfectly in the cook between his chin and neck. He’d feel her soft hair under his skin and be able to hold her close and safe. She moved much sooner than he’d like and faced him once again. 

Y/N closed her eyes, just taking in the quiet moment between them. Spencer wished that he could reach out and put his hand to Y/N’s cheek. Maybe she’d melt into his touch. They could play pretend that, for even a moment that they aren’t just best friends, but maybe this is her engagement ring. It’s enough for him, for now at least. They just sit in silence, but he aches to rub thumb along her knuckles. Still, neither of them need to speak, the unsaid words are poetry in itself. 

“Thank you, Spencer. This is so beautiful, I can’t even imagine the trouble it might have caused you.” You're worth it, Y/N, he wants to scream. You’re so worth it.  

But instead, he just settles on giving her a small smile. Spencer will forever have to contend with his silence. He’ll resign himself to standing by her side and watching as she loves another man. 

“Let’s go, Y/N starving”

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“I can’t believe I fought my wallet, Y/N! I’m so sorry that we have to go all the way back to my place,” Spencer feigned an apology and shot Y/N a side glance as he sped down the road towards his apartment. 

“It’s okay, Spencer. You know that I wouldn’t mind paying for brunch, it’s not a big deal that-”

“No way, am I letting you buy brunch on your birthday, Y/N” Spencer said putting on the blinker as he pulled into his parking spot. 

“Is that JJ’s car, Spence?” Y/N said as Spencer walked around to her side of the car to open the door for her. 

“Yeah, her and the boys park here sometimes to go to the park down the street. Henry loves to feed the ducks,” Spencer said, not making eye contact with her. 

“Look at me Spencer,” She said, reaching out to grab his sleeve. He kind of wished that her cold hand would slip into his and he’d be able to walk into her party in front of everyone she loves, holding his hand. 

“Are you lying to me?” Y/N remarked playfully. 

It took everything in Spencer’s being to look her straight in the eyes and tell her that he’s not lying. Especially when she’s looking in his eyes with that look on her face that just makes him want to scream that he loves her. 

“Ha! Y/N, I’m completely offended that you’d suggest that I’m lying to you,” Spencer said as he walked up the stairs to his apartment. 

“Hmm, I’m going to hold you to that, Mister” 

“It’s Doctor for you, Y/N. Why don’t you just open the door?” Spencer said, handing her the keys to his apartment. 

She gave him a suspicious look before she turned the key into the lock and stepped into Spencer’s apartment. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Penelope jumped out from her hiding spot behind Spencer’s sofa. 

The rest of the guests all chorused many Happy Birthdays as Y/N looked around in shock. Derek and Emily stood up to give her a hug, as JJ and Will stood holding balloons with Henry and Michael. 

“Oh my god! You guys! I can’t believe you all,” Y/N said jumping up to hug a beaming Penelope. 

“It was all Spencer’s idea, Y/N” JJ mentioned giving her friend a big hug and a kiss on her cheek. 

“Spence,” Y/N started as she looked up at her friend. 

“You really didn’t have to do that! Thank you,” She finished almost shly. 

“I wanted you to have the best birthday, Y/N. We’ve all had a rough year, you deserve it,” Spencer said to her. It was almost like they were the only two people in the room, he thinks. It’s like that a lot, whenever he’s in a room with Y/N. They can be in a pack stadium with screaming people, but the only person he’d be able to hear is her. The only person he’d want to pay attention is her. 

“I know you don’t like hugs, Spence, but it’s my birthday and I don’t care!” She said launching herself into Spencer’s already open arms. 

The pair hugged and Spencer forgot himself for a moment. He grabbed her by the waist and spun her around the room as she laughed. 

“Spencer!” She giggled. He put her down and looked at her smiling face. 

“Thank you,” She said quietly, just to him. 

“Of course, Y/N” He told her. Anything to make you laugh like that. Anything to allow me to hold you like that. Anything to make you happy. 

He might have stared too long, because Derek camed and clapped him on the shoulder. It was a reminder that they were not the only people in the room. 

“I’m going to go say hi to everyone,” she said before she left. 

Spencer watched her leave and gave a longing stare in her wake. He felt Derek’s eyes on his face and couldn’t even bear to look him in the eyes. Besides Y/N, Derek knew Spencer more than most people. He’d be able to read his face, his feelings, and his love for Y/N in a moment. And that terrified Spencer. 

“Penelope told me, you know.” Derek said, handing Spencer a mimosa. 

“Hmm, did she know?” Spencer replied tight-lipped. He glanced over to where Y/N had walked over to, but he only saw Emily and Penelope talking with flutes in their hands. 

“Also, Reid. That necklace she’s got on?” Derek questioned with a cocked eyebrow. 

“Yeah. I got it for her. For her birthday. It’s a replica of her grandmother’s engagement ring” Spencer confessed. 

Derek looked at Spencer in disbelief. He was in denial. They both were. 

“You got a girl who’s got a boyfriend an engagement ring for her birthday?” Derek asked factiously. 

“It’s a birthday present for my friend, Morgan.” Spencer said, taking a big gulp of his mimosa. The acid from the orange juice was unusually sour down his throat. 

“Friends don’t get friends engagement rings, Reid.” Derek said before he left Spencer to ponder over this predicament. 

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“Why don’t you let me or Derek call him, sweetie. I’m sure he just got stuck somewhere. Let me call him for you, please Y/N?” Penelope said calmly as she rubbed both of Y/N’s arms lovingly. 

“Penny, he’s not going to come! He missed this on purpose. I’m so done with him-” Y/N said between sobs. Between the champagne and jello shots, she was not drunk but happily buzzed, that quickly turned into an emotional buzz. 

“What do you want me to do, honey. Tell me and I’ll make it happen, okay. I’m so sorry, Y/N” Penelope told her, handing her a paper towel to wipe her tears. 

“I just want to go home,” She cried. 

“Will you get Spencer to take me home, he-” She got out before her shoulders were overtaken by sobs. 

“He drove me here. And he won’t mind leaving, he hates parties. We were planning a sleepover anyway,” Y/N turning to hug Penelope. 

“Hey, you don’t need that jerk anyway, Y/N,” Penelope said “I’m going to tell Spencer now, okay honey, I’ll be right back” 

Y/N stared at the drink in her hand thinking about what should have happened. The pain of the moment was too pungent, so she settled on taking a swig of the rest of her drink. Those problems can wait till tomorrow, she thought. 

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“Spencer! Reid, I need you over here,” Penelope called over to Spencer, who was entertaining the boys with a magic trick, much to their enjoyment. 

“It’s Y/N. She’s heartbroken that Ian never showed up” Penelope said, filling Spencer in. 

“That asshole!” Spencer whisper-yelled as Garcia led him to the kitchen. 

“She just wants you to take her home,” Garcia said as they made their way to where Y/N was perched on the countertop. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, he doesn’t deserve you. You know that right?” Spencer said looking at her teary face and glazed eyes. She didn’t look like herself. She looked faraway and sad; he’d do anything to make her feel better. 

“I just want to go home, Spencer, please. Just take me home,” Y/N said with fresh tears falling down her cheeks. 

“Come on, Y/N” He said holding her hand as they walked out the door, down the stairs and into his car. 

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Neither of them talked on the way home. Y/N looked out the window, just staring at the passerby in an almost wishlike state. 

Spencer split his attention evenly to the road ahead and Y/N sitting next to him. Her head rested against the window and her feet were tucked under her legs in a crouched position. It was like she was trying to make herself look as small as she was feeling.

“We’re here, Y/N,” Spencer said softly. 

“We’re home, Spence?” She asked, not even wanting to open her eyes yet. 

“We’re home, Y/N.” He answered, putting a comfortable hand on her shoulder. 

They walked upstairs to her apartment on the third floor just as quiet as their car ride was. She opened the door of her apartment and walked right into her bedroom. 

“I’m just going to get changed, Spence” She said before shutting the door and shutting him out of her thoughts for a moment. 

Not really sure what to do, Spencer sat on the couch. Was it really just a couple of hours ago that they sat here together? All of the sudden, Spencer heard what sounded like music coming from her bedroom. Spencer recognized that he wasn’t the best at modern popular culture, but Y/N choosing to play music at a time like this caught his profiler instincts. 

And what’s a profiler without a genius tech expert, he thought as he dialed Garcia. Spencer placed his ear to the door and started to hear Y/N sob-ridden voice mix with an artist who he did not recognize. 

“Garcia,” Spencer whispered. 

“Oh Spencer! How is she doing,” Garcia asked. Spencer imagined that the whole party stood huddled in his cramped kitchen listening to every word. 

“Ah, she’s singing?” Spencer said with a questioning tone. 

“Oh, boy. Hold the phone so I can hear please, this is very important Reid,” Garcia ordered. 

Spencer placed his flip phone so it’s speaker would pick up the sad notes echoing from the bedroom. 

“Did you get that?” Spencer asked, returning the phone to his ear. 

“She’s listening to her ‘cry her eyes out playlist’. This song is about a girl who’s boyfriend skipped out on her birthday party, so it’s hitting home right now, Spencer” Garcia explained. 

“That’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?” Spencer asked. 

“That’s the beauty of Taylor Swift, my dear. She’s got a song for every emotion. So maybe you can convince her to listen to her “this makes me believe in love” playlist. And maybe you can tell her how you feel, you know that you love her? That has Taylor Swift written all over it G-man,” Garcia finishes. 

“We’ll see about it, Penelope,” Spencer said, trying to figure out a plan to make Y/N feel better. He hung up on his friend and put his ear back at the door. 

Spencer felt a little bit uncomfortable pressing his ear up to the door. It was like he was invading a very private moment. As he strained to hear the song playing in the bedroom, Spencer’s legs  were rubbed against by a fluffy orange Maine Coon. 

“Hey Mabel,” He said crouching down to pet the cat. “Our girl is really sad right now. You always make her feel better though, right May?” He said. Spencer thought that he really must be losing it if he’s having a conversation with her cat. 

Suddenly, the music stopped and Spencer quieted himself to be able to hear what Y/N was doing behind the door. He heard her voice, maybe she was talking to her sister or Penelope. Spencer’s heart twinged with sadness that he wasn’t the one she went to when her heart was broken. 

“Hey, Ian. We need to talk,” Her voice was muffled between the door. Spencer’s breath was coming heavier with the realization that she was talking with Ian. Ian her boyfriend. 

He was not able to hear the other side of the conversation, not that he really cared what Ian said to defend himself. Spencer tried to make due by listening to Y/N’s quiet voice. 

“Ian, you really hurt me-” She said, her voice getting high. Spencer knew that was a sign of Y/N getting ready to cry. 

“No, you are going to listen to me. Then I am going to hang up and I’m going to toss all of your shit that you leave in my apartment in the trash!” she yelled on the phone. 

“You really hurt me by not coming to my party, Ian. But what I realized, sitting here, that I don’t need you anymore. I feel like I’ve given this relationship everything I had. And you don’t even give me the time of day! Spencer was here for me today. He planned this! He was the one who want to make my day special and I love-”

Spencer, who was listening intently to the conversation behind the door, ran as far away from the door as he could. He did not just hear what he did, he tried to tell himself. She does not mean it. Ian will probably call her in the morning and she’ll forgive him. There’s no way that she means that she means that. The silence coming from her bedroom is only broken by her quiet sobs. Spencer was counting the seconds before he could barge into the bedroom and tell her that everything is going to be okay. If he was more like Derek, he’d open up that door and just hold her and tell her how much he loves her. But Spencer Reid is not like Derek Morgan, much to his disappointment. 

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Y/N sat on the carpeted floor of her bedroom, mopping up her leaky eyes with an old t-shirt. The initial heartbreak from Ian not coming to her party was gone. It was a strange feeling, she almost felt light. Like breathing was a little easier or the world was a little clearer. The thing was, that if she thought about it, she really did not even miss him from her party. Spencer was the one who planned this, she thought. He was the one who gave her a thoughtful gift. He was the one she went to when she needed to go home. Spencer was the one.

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Spencer was broken from his internal thoughts when the door cracked open. Y/N eyes were puffy and red from crying. She made a motion to Spencer to come into her bedroom with her. Y/N led him over to the balcony window seat that overlooked the city street. It was still early in the evening, so the street was busy with passerby, bikers, and shoppers. 

Spencer sat down tentatively next to Y/N, who made a movement to grab his hand. She intertwined her fingers with his and Spencer could not help but think of how warm her hands were in his cold ones. Or how her light blue nail polish reflected light. 

“Spencer,” She said nervously. Y/N looked up at him with a shy look on her face. 

“Do you love me, Spencer,” She asked him, looking him dead in the eyes. 

“Of course I love you, Y/N. I love all of you guys. Penelope, Derek, JJ, Emily-” he said, regretting his answer almost immediately due to the look on her face. 

“No, Spencer. I mean do you love me?” she asked, daring to make eye contact with him. 

“I have loved you for years, Y/N.” Spencer answered. He lowered his gaze, fearful that maybe she would reject him, fearful that she’d think him loving her is a ridiculous notion, fearful that she’d realize that he’d never be the one for her. 

“Spencer, you mean so much to me. And I think that today-” She started, putting her hand to his cheek in an affectionate manner. 

“I think that today, I learned that you are always a constant in my life, you are always the person that I want to hold me when I cry. You are always the one who I want to make laugh. Spencer you are the one for me.” She professed. 

Spencer sat there looking dumbfounded. Part of him wanted to believe her, believe that she could possibly love him like he loves her. 

“I love you, Spencer. More than you can ever imagine.” She told him, dancing her fingers down his incredibly sharp jaw and down his neck. 

Spencer, who seemed to come back to Earth, fixed Y/N’s necklace. He looked back at her, like it was the first time that he was actually seeing her. 

Tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, Spencer kissed her forehead saying “when I look at you, Y/N, I see something that I never really thought I’d ever get. I see a future, a happy one. I love you so much, Y/N and-”

Spencer’s confession was cut off suddenly by a pair of soft lips pressing up to his. His shock wore off quickly as Y/N kissed the corners of his mouth, up his cheekbones, and all the way to his eyelids. Her overzealous affection caused Spencer to belt out a high pitched laugh. Kissing her tasted like the future. And the future had never tasted so sweet. 

[qm-vox]

Updates Ride Again

Been awhile since I posted an update here on that Lancer 3pp project, eh? Luckily the team is still getting along grea-

(MOI NIMUE, DFG LUST, & MO & S RASPUTIN. Art credit goes to the incomparable Moid)

Ikiryo, Psybomb, & I have continued to edit and tweak our manufacturers to ensure that once 3pp licensing is online they’re as good as they can possibly be. Alongside this we’ve been ordering art ahead of time, working on flavor sections to help incorporate our manufacturers into the world of your game, and the incomparable Ikiryo’s been busily creating new NPCs with which to challenge your players! Major updates in terms of balance and flavor will be upcoming for all three manufacturers Soon(tm) in response to feedback from Lancer’s discord, so keep an eye out.

If you want updates faster than whenever I have enough will to live to post them, check out Iki’s Twitter. Otherwise, it’s been awhile since we did one of these updates so let’s hit ya with the Land of Full & Complete Context:

What Is Lancer?

Lancer is a ‘mud-and-lasers’ RPG following mechanized cavalry pilots in the far future. Old Humanity, the cultures we know today, suffered a terrible Fall, and the children of New Humanity have spread through the stars to ensure that they can never destroy themselves again, and in the hopes of building a more just world. Along the way we’ve had some mighty triumphs, some horrific mistakes (nothing like re-inventing capitalism am I right), and have grown to contend with the birth of artificial intelligence - which is more alien than we could have ever dreamed of. Your pilots might work for Union; as Liberators executing slavers and tyrants to build a better world from their bones, as members of the Navy defending the weak, as UIB agents up against alien horrors from worlds we know not. Perhaps you swear your service to vast corpro-states, looking for the beautiful and true things at the heart of their cancerous search for profit and empire, or maybe you’re a mercenary from the Long Rim, just trying to die another day. Whoever you are, you have been granted a unique relationship to violence in the form of a mech, and must now decide what that means in your life.

Lancer is produced and published by Massif Press ( @orbitaldropkick​) and its player-facing rules are available for free on their store. Our project is third-party; not in any way affiliated with Massif Press, but made to be compatible with their excellent system and slot into its setting.

Our project introduces three mech manufacturers with their own goals and needs. They are...

Downfall Group (by Psybomb)

(DFG GLUTTONY. Art credit goes to Domochevsky)

“What happens when you make a promise to someone who doesn’t want you to keep it?” Like the other two corporations here, DOWNFALL Group did not start out looking for a fight. They just found one. In this case, their mission led them to figure out that what they were meant to do was at odds with what they should, and the final decision was probably not what their bosses intended. Still, when your avowed enemies control nearly everything, including you if they found out, you have to get creative with your solutions. 

An intelligence agency that’s gone rogue from the corpro-state that founded it, DFG’s pattern-groups utilize stolen technology in their fight to sabotage the rise of interstellar capitalism. They could be a rebellion’s best friend, the backers of suspiciously armed pirates and, now and again, even an army unto themselves.

Magnum Opus Interstellar (by Ikiryo)

(MOI SOLOMON. Art credit goes to Moid.)

Magnum Opus Interstellar are voyagers among the stars, seeking to map the routes across the depths of space. Magnum Opus tends to dislike personal conflict, as it interferes with business and exploration; but the Aun attack on the Cornucopia blink gate has left them shaken and reeling. Shocked out of neutrality, they are now gearing up for war with frames that tear the firmament asunder and demonstrate that a lack of interest in war was a dramatic difference to a lack of capability. 

An ancient and respectable, if small, corpro-state, Magnum Opus Interstellar used to manufacture mechs as a luxury good on the side for the sorts of people who make war into a game. Now awakened to a terrible wrath they have not yet known, their corporate techno-sorcerers ride to war with the codes of summoning at their fingertips. Their work has been undone; worlds will burn for this. And, of course, rich boys making a game out of war still buy what they’re selling.

Marley, Oz, and Silver Lending And Consultations (by Vox/Yours Truly)

(MO & S FRANKENSTEIN. Art credit goes to Domochevsky, as does credit for the INSPIRED addition of the vending machine).

Smith-Shimano Corpro offers unparalleled quality, custom-tailored to each unique customer, with service plans that can’t be beat. Marley, Oz, and Silver are the other end of the market; whatever they make, they make it at the absolute lowest price point possible and at the highest quality they can provide you for that price. Having trouble getting your revolution off the ground? Dreams of glory as a mechanized gladiator doomed by your pocketbooks? Sick and tired of fancier frames jamming up or shutting down? Come see Marley, Oz, and Silver - it’s for a good cause.

MO & S are very small. They have no money. You can imagine the kind of stress they are under. It’s not that they like being arms dealers; it’s that being arms dealers funds them helping the real people that are in front of them here and now. Thankfully, between the Ungrateful conflicts, partisans in the Dawnline Shore, and other hotspots flaring up in the Galaxy, they’ve found some markets that don’t hurt their conscience. Need a war machine but all you have is a junkyard full of retired school buses? Call Marley, Oz, and Silver.

Questions, comments, and feedback are more than welcome! Keep an eye on this post for the announcement of those major changes I alluded to, and because I have terminal writing disease & will probably slap some fiction on it in a reblog.

Catch ya on the front lines, friends.

[raendown]

A commission from @officerjennie for a friend! 

Pairing: TobiramaItachi Word count: 5077 Rated: T+ Summary: Itachi and Tobirama get a cat. They didn't really mean to. They certainly weren't prepared to.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Meow and Furever

They hadn’t actually intended to get a cat. If not for their own collective lack of creativity they would never have even been inside the shop that day. Social niceties dictated they bring some sort of gift to Hashirama’s house-warming party that weekend but neither of them were any good at buying gifts for other people; such was the main reason they had a long standing agreement to the limit of one gift each during the holidays. Without any better ideas they had come to the conclusion that they would instead purchase gifts for Hashirama’s many dogs. That was just the sort of cute gesture he would adore and it came with the added bonus of not disappointing any human recipients. 

So off they went to peruse through aisle upon aisle of nonsense toys that made an entire cacophony of noises when squeezed or shaken. It was standing at the end of aisle twenty-seven with a plastic hotdog between his hands that Itachi spotted the beast who would change their lives forever. 

“Tobi,” he murmured from one corner of his mouth. When the other did not respond he reached out to nudge lightly with one elbow. Tobirama grunted, looking up from comparing two different squeaky donuts. 

“What is it?”

“Look.”

He did. And what he saw was quite possibly the ugliest cat he had ever come across in his entire life. Situated behind glass in a wall of cages designed to attract potential pet parents while also keeping the animals safe, a pair of amber eyes glared back at him in a way that spelled death. Or possibly begged for treats. It was hard to tell under the absolute explosion of ginger fur and the massive jaw. 

Almost before Tobirama could process the man had even moved Itachi was across the aisle and all but pressed against the glass barrier, fingers coming up to trace patterns in the air for the angry ball of fluff to follow with its eyes. The store employee standing nearby gave them a side glance that practically smelled like a sales pitch. She watched with dollar signs in her eyes as the giant orange cat stretched out both front legs and yawned, showing off uneven teeth sticking out in all sorts of strange directions, then pattered daintily closer to the glass where it sat and resumed staring at the brave human who dared to approach.

“What on earth happened to its face?” Tobirama wondered out loud. As though it heard him, the cat turned to look at him with both ears swiveled forward as best they could over the crumpled folds of skin. Despite its obvious feline roots one could almost mistake it for a pug with a face that squished.

“Poor genetics,” the nearby employee piped up. “He was born that way. It’s put off quite a number of potential owners.” 

“I think he’s beautiful,” Itachi breathed. 

When the cat looked back in his direction he cooed and wriggled his fingers enticingly. Tobirama sighed. After several years together he knew his partner very well and he knew the look in those dark, beloved eyes. Come hell or high water they were going to take that animal home. Oh he could put up a fuss and dig in his heels, he could come up with a dozen logical arguments why they shouldn’t or couldn’t, but when Itachi really wanted something he had ways of being quite convincing. All of them were very underhanded. None of them were the sort of thing Tobirama wanted strangers to witness in the middle of a public pet shop. 

Still, he had a reputation to maintain. With as stern of an expression as he could muster he simply growled, “No.”

“But look at him!” Itachi whipped about to stare at him with wide eyes. 

“I am,” Tobirama said. “He’s as ugly as sin.”

“He’s perfect.”

“The answer is no, Itachi, we are not taking him with us. We don’t have anything for a cat at home. He would destroy the furniture we only just finished paying off!” 

Despite knowing this was a battle he would inevitably lose Tobirama folded his arms with every intention of standing his ground. 

An hour later they were trooping out the front door of the shop with half a dozen bags of assorted feline paraphernalia and a plastic carrier containing one very smug orange monster. The inside was meant to be lined with blankets for extra comfort but after the third was ruined before it could even make it halfway inside the staff decided that perhaps it was best they keep anything soft far away from those sharp claws until the thing was no longer their problem. Tobirama said a silent goodbye to the sides of his couch even as he watched Itachi settle the carrier across both knees and murmur soothingly through the grated door. Incredibly, he did not get hissed at.

For the entirety of the drive home the two new cat parents discussed their options for names. On the adoption forms Itachi had written down the first thing that came to mind simply for the sake of being able to take him home quicker but that was one thing Tobirama had successfully put his foot down on. He refused to call out ‘Butternut Squash’ whenever he inevitably got angry at the cat for something. They tossed a lot of options back and forth and by the end of the drive it was narrowed down to two different options. 

“I would have thought you’d be more excited about ‘Tang’,” Itachi mused. “It’s close enough to the word dang that you could almost feel like you’re swearing.”

“True. Unfortunately it reminds me of that awful drink powder my brothers were all obsessed with when we were young.”

“Ah yes. That would be why I rejected ‘Clifford’. I remember it a little too well from a show my own brother used to enjoy.” He frowned briefly, though it faded when his new monster gave off a sort of rumbling sound that might have been purr or growl, it was impossible to tell. 

Pulling in to the driveway, Tobirama gave a sage nod. He’d never liked that show either. “Alright so what are we going for? I’ll leave the final decision up to you; are we calling him Winston or Rohan?”

He didn’t get an answer until after they had fought their way out of the car and in to the home with their many large bags. Itachi set the carrier down on the kitchen floor and then sat beside it to coo through the door soothingly. Whether or not it worked was hard to tell. Before opening the door to let their new family member roam free he paused to crane his neck up with a smile. 

“Would you consider another option?” he asked. 

“Seriously?” Tobirama lifted one eyebrow. “We just spent half an hour narrowing this down and you want to throw in a new contender?”

“Tesla. We could call him Tesla.”

“...because all that fur makes him look like he’s been in some sort of electrical accident?” 

“Precisely.” As if to prove the point he’d already made Itachi squeezed the latch and twisted, swinging the little door open, then beamed with a parental sort of pride as their newest addition came stumping out of its carrier in a gait that reminded Tobirama very uncomfortably of his brother’s best friend. 

True to his proposed name, however, the cloud of orange fur surrounding the cat’s massive bulk stood out from his body in raggedy clumps that gave a very good impression of being recently electrocuted. After pausing to rub himself up against Itachi’s knee almost incidentally he took a few cautious steps and lifted his nose to sniff the air. His misshapen little nose wriggled in time with his ears, swiveling front and back while he tried to take in as much information as possible about this new environment. Both humans watched him take a few more steps-

Only to plop his bottom down on the linoleum and declare the whole adventure business to be too much trouble. Instead he stretched out and rolled over to put all four paws in the air. 

“I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean,” Tobirama murmured. 

“Maybe that he feels safe here already?” Hesitating very briefly, Itachi reached out and dared to run his fingers through the wild hair covering the belly on offer. “Oh. Oh he’s so soft!” 

“So clumpy, you mean. I wonder when he last groomed himself.” 

His partner gave him a stern look. “Quit insulting him and just tell me whether or not you like the name!” 

“Yes, I think Tesla is a good name for him,” Tobirama gave in. It wasn’t a lie, he did think it was a good name and it definitely appealed to his nerdy side, he was just a little too fond of the way Itachi’s nose wrinkled whenever he was exasperated. He was a little too fond of many things about this man. 

Tesla himself seemed to approve of the name and he showed this by rolling heavily back on to his feet and strutting away from them both with his tail held high in the air. His short hesitant footsteps were surprisingly delicate for a creature of his size. Just as Tobirama was beginning to think that perhaps adopting him wouldn’t be quite as big of a change to their lives as he had initially suspected Tesla paused to lock his gaze on to the dishes piled up by the sink. With both of their families stopping by for visits over the past week there hadn’t been much free time to wash the dishes just yet so the stacks were getting just a little wobbly. That, of course, is precisely what caught Tesla’s attention. 

Before either of them had time to do more than gasp with prophetic despair Tesla crouched down and launched himself upwards straight towards the tallest and most wobbly stack of dishes on the countertop. It was only by the grace of some god or other that all the bowls and cups he smacked in to face first were each made of plastic. A good thing, too, as they all immediately came cascading down towards the floor amid shrieking yowls of surprise. Tesla’s little claws screeched against the kitchen floor as he landed only to shoot out of the room in fright, abandoning his new parents to the task of cleaning up his very first mess. 

Tobirama felt he was being incredibly generous by waiting until after they had spent five minutes chasing waywards cups that really wanted to roll their way to freedom before turning to his partner with both eyebrows on the upper limits of his forehead. Unfortunately for the sassy remark he’d been composing in his head, Itachi beat him to the punch. 

“He lived his whole life in that shelter,” he reasoned. “A pile of dishes is probably something he’s never seen before; he couldn’t have known that would happen!” 

“Don’t think logic will save him from my wrath every time,” Tobirama muttered. 

Gathering up as much dignity as he could, he set all his gathered dishes down and swept out of the room. Now would have been a perfect time to actually wash the dirty cutlery and so on but he was much more concerned with what else their fluffy new resident could have gotten in to. Five minutes was a long time for a cat to be loose in an unfamiliar environment. All it took was a couple of visits to any of his brothers’ homes to know that pets were their own class of natural disaster.

As it turned out, his instincts were correct. Barely two steps past the kitchen Tobirama broke out in to a run as a terrible ripping sound reached his ears. When he skidded in to the living room it was to find Tesla halfway up their living room curtains, although by the look of the long rips he’d probably made it quite a bit higher before the polyester gave up its structural integrity. Granted, those curtains were ugly as ugly as he was and only remained in the window because they’d been a gift from Itachi’s younger brother at some point, but that didn’t make the prospect of replacing them any more pleasant. 

“I should leave you there,” Tobirama snapped. Tesla wriggled until he could tilt his head for a very cute and innocent meow. 

“What happ- oh! He’s stuck! Can you hold the curtains still so I can get him down?” Itachi inched around their cluttered living room to reach the window where he began stroking down the cat’s back, hoping to sooth him. 

Tesla honestly didn’t look like he needed much soothing. He purred to have such gentle affection, a sound that could be compared to a dying lawn mower, and continued to hang in place as though such had been his intentions all along. It took the two humans working together several minutes to detangle all four sets of claws so they could set the cat back on the ground, whereupon he immediately leapt on to the couch and began kneading the blanket Mito had crocheted for Itachi as a birthday present several years back. 

“You’re not going to stop him?” Tobirama asked incredulously. “He’s going to pull out all the threads and leave holes!”

“It’s crochet, it’s already full of holes. No one will notice.” 

“Mito will notice.”

Like he’d been struck with lightning Itachi launched in to action, crawling over furniture to reach for Tesla and very gently encourage him to leave the blanket alone. Evidently having his activities interrupted was grounds for declaring war in cat language. The moment his claws were once again detached Tesla hissed wetly at them both and took off down the hall to disappear in to yet another new room. Both men hurried after him.

One cat, Tobirama thought to himself as they came to a skidding halt outside the bathroom. It was only one bloody cat. If he didn’t already know the exact devastated expression his partner would give him for doing so he would give up now and toss the bloody animal outside in to the garden. Gently, of course, because he was actually pretty fond of cats himself. But he was also fond of maintaining an orderly home life and while the cat he’d taken care of growing up had been docile, almost demure, it hadn’t exactly taken him a lot of time to realize this one would not behave the same. They may have chosen his name for the way his fur stuck out at odd angles but it was becoming very clear that Tesla had lightning in his veins as well. Tobirama could already predict many nights being awoken by an attack of ‘the zoomies’ as his brother called it.

“Ah! Tesla! Don’t eat that please!” Itachi hurried forward to rescue the bowl of sweets he kept on his side of the bed for the rare occasion he got a craving. “I don’t think those are good for you.” Tesla meowed curiously and made a valiant effort to follow the bowl, determined to continue inspecting the contents. 

“Just let him sniff it and maybe he’ll leave it alone once he knows what it is,” Tobirama suggested. 

“But what if he tries to eat one?” 

With a sigh Tobirama looked down at the cat stretched up on his hind legs and shook his head. “Then I suggest putting it inside your nightstand for now. Come on, you, let's show you where your litter box and food are. Maybe that will calm you down.” 

Tesla gave a very loud protest when he was picked up without further warning. As good as he’d been in the carrier, he didn’t seem to appreciate being swung freely through the air. Unfortunately Tobirama didn’t trust him to keep his claws to himself just yet and so he opted for holding the beast out in front of him like a stinky sack of potatoes rather than cuddling him up close as he would with any other cat. Considering the size of him it was no surprise that Tobirama’s arms began to feel the strain long before he finally made his way in to the laundry room where they planned to set up the litter, figuring this was the best place for any possible stinkiness. 

Only after he had arrived and found himself in the middle of the room did he remember that they hadn’t actually had time to set anything up just yet. 

“How much do you love me?” he asked in a flat voice. From behind he heard Itachi cough in a poor attempt at covering up a bit of laughter. 

“Enough to lock you in here with him while I go get everything ready.”

Tobirama sighed despondently. It was probably for the best. Leaving Tesla in here alone would probably result in some kind of disaster. Reluctantly and with much pouting, he agreed, watching the door close them in like a prisoner might watch the door to his jail cell slam shut. When they were alone he set Tesla on top of the washing machine and wrinkled his nose in irritation when the cat immediately began pawing at a stack of clean laundry. He supposed he should say goodbye now to the idea of ever being cat hair free again. Not even a lint roller was going to save him from this explosion of puff. 

By some merciful twist of fate it only took Itachi a few minutes to set up the food and water dishes in their kitchen and fill the litter box, something he did right outside the door. The sound of him pouring litter just a plank of wood away drove Tesla absolutely mad and set him to scratching at the door until finally Itachi opened it.

“Clearly he’s already decided which of us to attach himself to.”

“Well can you blame him?” Itachi carefully set the box down and buried his fingers in orange fur. “From the sounds of it I was the first person to ever give him a chance. Just look at this face, who could ever help loving a face like this?”

If not for the fact that he was overly aware he was making the exact same expression as the cat, Tobirama would have had some very different answers to that question. Instead he only darkened his scowl and turned away. Stupid animal. As soon as his partner spotted the thing he’d known they would end up taking it home but it was only now hitting him just how sleepless, fur-covered, and lonely his future was looking. The shame was probably the worst part. He was jealous of a cat. A cat. Well, more of an orange monster that was clearly plotting to steal all of Itachi’s time and affection away from him. 

Doing his best to consciously smooth his face in to something more neutral and unrelated to cat based jealousy, Tobirama cleared his throat. “Shouldn’t we be showing him his litter box so he knows where it is? That’s supposed to be important.” 

“Oh, right, yeah.” 

“So maybe you should put him down, then?”

“But listen to him purring…” Itachi gave him a tiny smile that blossomed in to a full grin when he laid his head down against Tesla’s side to listen to his monstrous purrs from up close. 

With a huff Tobirama nudged the litter box. “Just put him in it.”

It was already happening. The stupid beast was already stealing Itachi’s best smiles, the really soft ones normally reserved just for him when the two of them were all alone. And he was already feeling stupid for letting it get to him. Tobirama wondered if it would be a little too childish to bury the stupid thing in litter while it was still clean just to have what petty revenge he could; it wasn’t as though Tesla would really understand, after all. Stealing Itachi away wasn’t exactly premeditated. 

Nor was it real, the man was still right there and he would no doubt still have a part of his large heart reserved for the one who shared his bed, it was just that Tobirama was already fairly sure their bed had just gained another occupant. 

“Come on little one, like this!” Itachi used the litter scoop to dig through it like he was teaching a child something new. 

“I think he knows how to bury his own shit,” Tobirama grumbled. “The store said he was box trained.”

“What if this isn’t the brand they used? Change can be confusing for anyone.” 

“Oh for- I’m going to make dinner.” 

So he did. Tobirama ignored the bemused questions that followed him out in to the hall, calling back over his shoulder that keeping up with Tesla’s explorations was Itachi’s responsibility for now as he himself stomped off to the kitchen while trying not to be obvious about said stomping. 

Irritated as he was, he chose not to make anything too complicated for dinner, not wanting to let his distraction affect how well he cared for his beloved partner. He definitely had an advantage in this arena. Tesla was great and all but his paws probably weren’t all that useful in the kitchen - not to mention he would coat anything he touched in long ginger fur. Not very tasty for humans. 

Eventually as he went about his business the familiar motions of chopping and stirring and fiddling with their faulty stove dials helped center him, calming the silly emotions he hadn’t been able to help. There was something about the simple domesticity of housework that never failed to bring him back in to himself. Probably because housework didn’t require much of his brainpower and so allowed him plenty of time to work through his thoughts without any expectations or outside pressures. Tobirama opened the dishwasher to pull out his favorite set of miso bowls and admitted silently to himself that he might have overreacted to getting a cat. Sure he usually loved cats and yes he had very much enjoyed having one as a child but he and Itachi had lived alone together for close to a decade at this point, their home had become a place where he knew that the rest of the world could fade away and he could envelope himself in nothing but the quiet man who stole his heart from the very first date. It was a little embarrassing to realize that he’d grown so attached to that concept that even as simple of an addition as a pet could make him feel threatened. Itachi would love him no less. Pay him no less attention. Really there was nothing to worry about. 

Almost as though he could sense that a bit of mental peace had been reached, Itachi came wandering in to the room just as Tobirama was pulling down some glasses. He insisted on setting the table, for which Tobirama was grateful, and in only a couple of minutes they were both seated together devouring a simple yet delicious meal. The kitchen was Tobirama’s domain and his talents in that area only grew with each year. On the other hand Itachi hadn’t learned to cook until he was nearly thirty and his talents mostly included bowling water. 

When Tesla came wandering in to the room with a plaintive yowl Tobirama found it in himself not to glare at the sight of his partner leaping up immediately to guide him towards the cat dish. He supposed the animal deserved to have dinner as well and they might as well eat at the same time. A small fragment of his mental peace was shattered when Tesla began to eat, however, and he realized the stupid thing snarfed down its food with a litany of disgusting sounds almost like he were gargling it. Just because he accepted that the beast would be living here didn’t mean he had to like the thing. 

“Thank you for agreeing to let him come home with us,” Itachi said as he slid back in to his chair. Tobirama grunted. “I can’t imagine how it must have felt to stay in that place for so long with only a tiny cage to live in and never have anyone love him.” 

Rather than answer all Tobirama could do was grunt again and stir his miso aimlessly while trying not to feel guilty for fantasizing earlier about tossing the thing out. 

Dinner was quick, the clean up after even quicker, and even though it was probably a bad idea Tobirama decided that the rest of the evening would be his own, determined to ignore any shenanigans their new addition might get up to. Several people had told him over the years that he was too uptight. He would show them. Of course he knew how to relax, how to let the small things go. How much damage could one animal do in the short span of a single evening? 

After the past couple of hours he already knew the answer to that question; he chose to ignore it. 

Never having been a large fan of most popular TV shows, he spent the rest of his evening curled up in one corner of their large couch trying not to leap up and investigate every crash or yowl or quiet scolding word. Listening to his partner follow the cat around while Tesla continued learning this new environment did make him feel slightly guilty. Not guilty enough to actually go help though, not when getting the damn thing had been all Itachi’s idea. Sometimes he could be a nice guy but he certainly wasn’t that nice. Instead he combated his helpful urges by sinking farther and farther in to the cushions with every loud noise until he was all but buried between them and tried his best not to imagine what chaos was being made of his neat and orderly home. Whatever got misplaced he was sure Itachi would at least try to clean it up. 

By the time his phone went off to tell him he should probably go to bed - a daily alarm he’d been using since college when his study habits grew wildly unhealthy - his efforts to relax hadn’t been nearly as successful as he would have liked but he wasn’t feeling quite so twisted up in knots as he had been before dinner. Tobirama called a few vague words down the hall to let his partner know he was tucking in for the night, pleased to hear Itachi call back that he would follow in a few minutes. A man of his word, he was in the bedroom getting changed when Tobirama came back out of the bathroom, teeth freshly brushed and flossed. 

Since Itachi always took so much longer to perform his nightly ablutions Tobirama had plenty of time to slip under the covers and squirm about to find a comfortable position. He didn’t often move around much in his sleep but the older he got the more prone he was to aching limbs if he didn’t fall asleep in just the right position. Just as Itachi came out and crossed the room to turn out the light Tobirama at last found the perfect spot, spread out on his side just close enough to the center of the bed that when the other man crawled under the sheets he was able to fit himself right in to the cradle of Tobirama’s hips. As much as he liked to pretend that cuddling was something he only did for his partner’s benefit, it did help him sleep most days. Tobirama was grateful that slumber was such a private activity. There was no need for anyone else to know that under his gruff exterior he was nearly as sappy as his older brother. 

Like he often did, Tobirama had trouble falling asleep. Listening to the sound of Itachi’s breathing evening out relaxed him, of course, but he still found himself distressingly awake to hear the sound of their bedroom door creaking open ever so slightly. A scowl touched his face when he felt the end of the mattress dip under a tiny weight. 

“Do you really have to?” he grumbled under his breath. 

As though in answer Tesla gave a low meow and trotted a full circle around the lump their bodies made together under the covers, looking for the perfect spot to lie down. No choice could have been more surprising than the one he went for. Tobirama was left blinking rapidly at the back of Itachi’s head when he felt soft fur press up against his neck; almost immediately his entire frame was practically shaken with the force of Tesla’s raucous purring. He didn’t even like the stupid thing but of course he was the one it wanted to cuddle with as they all slept through their first night together.

That, of course, was when it hit him. He understood at last why his partner had fallen so deeply in love with this creature and why it had been so important that they take him home. If ever there had existed a cat form of Tobirama himself it would be Tesla. Coarse and unrefined, prone to explorations and a curiosity that was never quite sated, he himself was exactly the sort of person many others would pass up without a second thought. He was grumpy, he was cantankerous, and he wasn't much to look at. But at the end of the day when it was only him and the ones he loved Tobirama was as soft as melted butter. If he could purr then he certainly would have every time he fitted himself around Itachi’s warm and welcoming form. 

“Alright, fine,” he murmured, shifting so Tesla could curl around his head a little more comfortably. “You can stay. Just to be clear, though, I was still here first. And don’t you forget that.”

He didn’t get much of a reply but he wasn’t really expecting one. Tesla merely continued to purr, Itachi continued to dream, and Tobirama decided that he didn’t mind expanding his family just a little bit. Of all the possible choices for a pet it did warm him inside to know that, in a way, his partner had chosen to fall in love with him all over again. 

[louthestarspeaker]

Wheelhouse

Here is my first contribution to @gumnut-logic ‘s wonderful IR Relief challenge. I combined the prompts “John and Penny being close friends (bonus if there’s a suspicious Gordon in the background)” from @eos-in-orbit and “Any characters – trapped in a lift/elevator” from @darkestwolfx . 

Summery: John steps up to the plate and out of his comfort zone when he offers to go to attend a meeting in Scott’s place. He’s hoping for a simple straightforward evening, but when is anything ever that easy?

John fiddled with the cufflinks on his suit sleeves. Should he not have worn them? It felt like he was being too formal. He should have asked for another second opinion besides Grandma- she always liked to see him and his brothers all dressed up.  

John was standing in the lobby of a fancy hotel in London, the chosen site for a business transaction between Tracy Industries and a potential partner, waiting by the door for Lady Penelope, who was to help him negotiate.

FAB1 rolled up in front of the hotel, the bright pink in sharp contrast with the stormy weather around it. Parker hurried around to open the door for Penny, holding an umbrella above her head until she was safely under the awning, before heading back to park, valet’s not to be employed for obvious reasons.

John smiled as Penny entered, wearing a cream colored pantsuit and long pink overcoat, her eyes widened in surprise as she caught sight of John. It’d been quite some time since they’d seen each other in person. 

“John! Oh, I’d hug you but I’m soaked. Umbrella’s can’t do much in that wind, I’m afraid.” 

John reached forward for a quick hug anyway. “It’s just water. Besides, it’s nice to have a little weather after coming down from the office.” 

Penelope shook her head. “Speaking of ‘the office’, what are you doing here? Not that I’m not delighted, but wasn’t Scott supposed to be coming?”

John smiled ruefully. “He’s had a bad day, I’m filling in for him.”

“Oh dear, he’s not hurt, is he?”

“No, he’s alright. But you can hardly expect him to play the part of the billionaire business tycoon after spending most of the day rescuing Lemaire.”

Penny hummed in understanding. “Hits a bit too close to home, does it?” 

She laughed at John’s silent nod and flat look, hooking her arm through his and pulling him into a walk. “Trust me, darling, you’re nothing alike. Now we’d best be going, Parker said he’d meet us upstairs. It doesn’t reflect well to be late to your own party.”

“Hardly a party, Pen.” John muttered. Penny glanced up to see John eyeing the people eyeing them. A Tracy or a Creighton-Ward was enough to garner attention on their own, together they attracted the eyes of most everyone in the lobby.

Penny winced internally at John’s obvious discomfort. As much as she’d tried to pull him out of his shell, he still detested the attention. 

“You didn’t want to send Virgil instead?” She asked gently. “I know you don’t care for this sort of thing.”

John shrugged. “You know Virge. He’s more R&D.” 

Brokering a business deal was kind of out of his little brother’s wheelhouse. Out of John’s wheelhouse too actually. He was more the numbers guy, and the great thing about being the numbers guy was you could do it all remotely from your space station twenty-two thousand miles away, or from your private island that might as well be just as far. 

John sighed, finding himself pulling at his sleeves again. Scott really was better at all of this. Did Scott ever wear cufflinks?

“Stop that, John.”  

“Stop what?” He asked, jumping out of his head.

She eyed him with a look saying ‘you know exactly what’. “You’re brooding again.” 

“What? I don’t brood.” He said, hitting the call button for the elevator so he didn’t have to look her in the eyes. “I… ruminate.”

“Whatever you want to call it doesn’t change the fact you need to stop. You are more than capable of heading this meeting.”

John shook his head ruefully. “If you say so, Pen.”

“I do say so, and don’t even think of trying to argue with me, John Tracy.”

John let out a laugh at this bit. 

As if he’d ever stand a chance…  Penny was an excellent negotiator, a talent that served her well- and often-  in her line of work. And was one of the many reasons never to start an argument with her.

“Wouldn’t dream of of it, Pen-”

A loud clap of thunder interrupted him, and the lights buzzed before flickering off completely. Leaving the lobby, and it’s occupants, in the dark. 

“Well. This is rather unfortunate.”

Penn’s remark was one of many as the murmuring of the crowd rose in volume and temperament, many using language not nearly as polite as hers. One call rang above the others though, because it was downright panicked.

“My sister’s stuck in the elevator!”

It was a young man standing near them, alarm evident on his face. The manager rushed over, walking quickly but not running, trying to exhibit some control of the situation. “No cause to worry, sir. The elevator breaks have engaged, she’s in no danger.”

“No, you don’t understand, she’s claustrophobic, she’ll be having a panic attack!” The young man said, looking as if he was about to have a panic attack himself. John stepped in then, instinct driving him.

“Hey, take a breath, your sister will be fine.” John assured the young man. He turned to the manager. “Have someone call the fire department, in the meantime we’ll call the elevator. We can see how she’s doing.”

His instructions were carried out without complaint, even if the manager looked a bit put out to be ordered around in his own hotel. But he, like everyone else, recognized John’s seniority in the situation. He wasn’t only the camera-shy Tracy heir, after all. He was International Rescue.

The manager led the small party over to the receptionist desk, followed by no small amount of obvious eavesdroppers, to connect with the elevator phone.

“Hello, Emma, are you there?” The young man, James, asked, his voice shaky.

The empty silence meeting James’ question had John sending Penny a grim look. Silence on the comm lines was never a good sign.

“Emma? Are you there?” James’ voice had risen an octave, and still no answer.

The manager was sweating nervously, having given up all pretense of authority. “What- what do we do?”

John calculated quickly in his head. The fire department was sure to be delayed with the traffic and thunderstorm conditions to contend with, during which time Emma, in the best case scenario, couldn’t catch her breath, and in the worst case, was already passed out- which would slot her with a possible head injury as well. John shook his head. It was hardly a decision at all.

“Where did her elevator stop?”

“Between the third and fourth floors.” The manager supplied.

“Penny, have Parker meet us on the fourth floor.” 

`*`

Parker arrived quickly, toting the leather bag he deemed to be his ‘lucky kit’. Elevator doors were harder to pry open than the movies made them seem, but one well placed ice pick and an impressive round house from Lady Penelope had the door open in moments.

John readied himself for the trip down to the elevator car. As far as civvies went for performing rescues, evening wear probably had to be at the bottom of the list. John removed his jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and pocketed his cufflinks. 

He doubted he’d ever be able to wear the suit again after clambering down the oiled elevator cable, but he’d sure as heck try. Growing up in a Kansas farm house with four rowdy brothers meant he’d adopted his grandmother’s mentality of keeping nice things nice.

John wrapped his hands with strips of cloth- shredded dish towels, courtesy of the kitchen staff. It should help him grip the elevator cable. He stood at the elevator opening, eyeing the ten foot drop before turning back behind him.

“Are you coming, Lady Penelope?” The mission-like atmosphere of the situation had him switching to her professional title.

She shook her head. “Three’s a crowd, darling. I’ll wait here with James.”

John nodded in understanding. Best not to overwhelm Emma with too many people, and her brother seemed to be only just keeping himself from tipping over the edge into hysterics- he could do with Lady Penelope’s calming presence.

With a calculated leap, John jumped into the elevator shaft. He met the cable full on and clutched it tightly- reminded oddly of the rope climbing exercises in a high school gym class. His make-shift hand wraps did their job and John was able to climb down without  too much slipping. He unwrapped his hands from the now shredded material, called a quick okay to Lady Penelope upstairs, then dropped down through the top emergency hatch, landing neatly in the elevator car.

Flicking on a penlight, he illuminated the small space, taking stock of the situation.. Emma stood on shaky legs, slumped against the wall, fingers clutching the silver rail that ran along the length of the car in a white knuckled grip. She was wheezing desperately, and swaying on her feet, but still conscious- always a good thing.

John approached her slowly, not wanting to frighten her further. “Emma? You’re brother sent me. I’m International Rescue. I’m here to help.”

Her eyes darted wildly around at the walls surrounding her, before making contact with John’s. “I c-can’t… can’t breathe-”

“It’s gonna be alright. I’m John, I’m going to stay with you until the fire department comes.” John gently pried her fingers away from the rail and took her elbow,  leading her away from the wall and seating her in the middle of the floor.

John crouched down in front of her, meeting her eyes and directing her to cup her hands around her nose and mouth. “Now breathe in deeply from your stomach. Hold. Breathe out.”

It only took a few repetitions before John admitted to himself it wasn’t working. Emma kept breaking eye contact, and every time her eyes drifted to the walls she choked.

“It’s alright.” John soothed again as it happened for the third time. “Let’s try something different. Close your eyes.” If Emma couldn’t see the walls, perhaps he could convince her she wasn’t trapped. “Now, you’re not here anymore, you’re watching the sky. The sun is setting over the ocean.”

John channeled his inner Virgil, describing an island sunset in bursts of crimson and gold, waves reflecting warm sunlight before soft pink fades into the deep indigo of night time. Silver light pricks the sky, the stars revealed in swirling constellations, like fragments of the sun. The stars go on forever.

“And there’s a breeze coming off the ocean.” John said. “Match your breath. In… and out. In… and out.”

Minutes blended as John kept up the soothing narrative, his words smoothing Emma’s wheezing gasps into even breaths. Quite soon, help arrived, signaled by a thump from the ceiling, and things began to move in quick succession.

A firefighter dropped through the hatch like John had, checking they were both alright before fitting them with harnesses and winching them up one by one. As John was pulled up out of the elevator shaft he was greeted by- not a familiar face, but a recognizable one. After all, the news reports had been notoriously hard to avoid after she and Virgil decapitated the world's largest building.

“Chief McCready.”

The chief grinned and nodded, clasping John’s hand and hauling him onto solid ground. “Tracy.” A familiar name paired with a new face. “And here I thought you boys chased after trouble, but it looks like it might be the other way around.”

John’s civilian clothes, oil smeared and wrinkled, were a dead give-away he hadn’t been expecting this particular mission. He could see Grandma now, shaking her head and clicking her tongue, amazed at all the ways him and his brothers managed to ruin clothes, but not at all surprised that they did.

He allowed himself a small smile. “The job follows you around.” On duty or not, the calls never went unanswered.

The Chief clapped him on the shoulder, understanding the sentiment in a way only a first responder really could. “That it does.”

Their conversation was brief, the Chief dragged away by her duties and John by an overwhelmingly grateful Emma and James, both of which hugged him tightly and thanked him profusely.

When John finally had a moment to catch his breath, he caught Penny watching him, a hint of humor in her eyes.

“What?” He asked, her levity in his tone.

“Nothing at all. It’s just I can hardly believe this is who the tabloids call the ‘reclusive elite’.”

There was a brief moment of confusion before John realized with a start just how many eyes were on him. A whole crowd of obvious rubberneckers, both indiscreetly peeking at him and gaping unashamedly. And all John could do was laugh.

What could he say? He’d talked down an emergency victim, spoken with site officials, and was now standing there in filthy clothing post-rescue. He was in his element.

[coffeesandfilm]

See you at the Crossroads, Crossroads, Crossroads

DISCLAIMER: I know Crossroads (dir. Tamra Davis, 2002) is iconic and Britney is an icon, and while I can appreciate its place in pop culture, I thought it would be interesting to analyse, and also to see what is says about American attitudes in the early 2000s. 

Now even though this is a fictional story with fictional characters, Lucy Wagner (played by Miss Spears) is clearly meant to represent Britney herself. First we have to look back to the hazy days of 2002, when Britney had sexed up her image with the release of her third album, Britney (2001), featuring classics such as, “I’m a Slave 4 U”, “Overprotected”, and “I’m Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman”. Despite its success, a lot of the public and media were unhappy with her pull from the ‘virginal, teen-idol’ image she originally embodied. She famously claimed at the start of her career that she wished to remain a virgin until marriage, and boy, was she ever allowed to forget it. Subsequently, she was constantly hounded by the press to see whether there was any update on this front, and if not it meant people could continue their creepy Lolita-esque fetishisation of her. I suppose this film was Britney’s way of breaking free, and telling the world that she was not that girl in the school uniform anymore, but becoming a young woman in her own right (hence the song title) without being too direct and completely alienating her audience.

To briefly summarise the plot, Lucy (Britney), Kit (Zoe Saldana) and Mimi (Taryn Manning), are three former best friends who now move around in completely different social circles, and are on the verge of graduating high school. As children they buried a chest which featured a treasured belonging from each of them, with the promise that they would meet up and re-claim these tokens after graduation. When the time comes, they begrudgingly agree to meet up once more and do what they promised, with the nostalgia fuelled by re-claiming these belongings inspiring Kit and Lucy to join Mimi (and some random guy) on a road trip to California. Mimi wanted to go to an audition in L.A, Kit wished to go to visit her fiancé, and Lucy wished to be dropped off in Arizona to meet her mother, who walked out on her family when she was young. The random guy who gives them a ride is Ben (Anson Mount), who later becomes a love interest to Lucy, and who she eventually loses her virginity to. As expected the girls have their ups and downs, but ultimately bond becoming closer than ever by the end of their trip, realising how important their friendship is. There are other themes and side storylines included, but more on that later.

You simply cannot watch Crossroads today without appreciating how of its time it is, the 2000s fashion trends, the clichéd high school dynamics, and of course, prime Britney. The three girls are American high school caricatures of sort, Kit is the bitchy but beautiful Queen Bee, Mimi is the edgy bad girl, who is also 5 months pregnant, and Lucy is the sweet, nerdy girl that most of the boys do not notice (yeah right Brit). Lucy’s father (played by Dan Aykroyd, which was a choice) is the stereotypical firm but loving single-dad who works a blue-collar job as a mechanic and has no time for 'anybody's nonsense’. I also enjoyed how Britney possessed the knowledge of a professional mechanic simply through her father being one, pretty standard teen movie logic of course. The girls jamming along to N*SYNC’s “Bye, Bye, Bye” in the car was pretty on the nose too, especially as Britney was still dating Justin Timberlake during this period, but ultimately this is what makes the movie so fun and nostalgic.  

In spite of this, I cannot deny there were certain elements of the film that rubbed me the wrong way. Mimi reveals that she became pregnant through the result of rape by a man who took advantage of her when she was drunk, which in itself I believe was a very brave and progressive plot line to include in the film, and the scene itself was heartbreaking and very well done. What I thought was ridiculous was the fact that this was apparently the first and only time Mimi had been drunk, and of course she had to get punished for it, resulting in her rape and pregnancy, a questionable lesson to teach young girls I think. It is a not so subtle way of saying that, girls partying = bad, I am not denying that safety concerns surrounding partying exist, but there were other ways they could go about it. Of course the question of abortion never even arose within the film as that would be too controversial, the closest we got to her giving up her baby was adoption, and she did not even want to do that. The worrying fact is, is that Mimi being raped is less controversial and more digestible than the concept of abortion, which in my opinion, are some very backwards and conservative priorities to preach. Ultimately as the baby was a product of rape, and Mimi was a teenager, she was never going to be able to keep it in teen movie world, and I was waiting to see how she would lose it. Whilst fleeing a confrontation from her rapist (who turned out to be Kit’s fiancé in a shocking twist of events) she trips down a block of stairs, resulting in her admittance to hospital and miscarries. Whilst still under care, she confides to Lucy that she “decided to keep her” baby before the accident, solidifying the film’s pro-life stance and the idea that she was conforming to motherhood. Everything concerning Mimi’s situation is completely violent and horrific, and to be honest, pretty downright cruel to her character, but ultimately this was still seen as a more acceptable option to abortion. I think this period of time represented a more Conservative America, with post- 911 sentiment resulting in more traditional, Christian values being re-introduced. Even though this film may seem somewhat boundary pushing initially (when dealing with topics such as rape and sex), its whole direction and morals are drenched in Conservatism, which are quite prominent tropes in the American media. 

If I had to do a rundown of the three most ridiculous parts of the movie it would be:

1. Ben having a mini fit because the girls kindly decide to drive his car when he falls asleep at the petrol station. He makes them pull over and starts shouting at some rocks, proclaiming how his car is “the only thing that hasn’t been taken over by chicks”, one of the most fragile things I have ever heard, and one of the most unwarranted reactions ever. 

2. When Lucy’s father confronts her about running away from home, going on a road trip across the country with basically no communication, no money, and with a random stranger, all she has to do is say ‘sorry’ and he forgives her immediately, saying “you made a mistake, everyone makes mistakes, you’re forgiven”. Yes he literally says “you’re forgiven”, a shockingly quick resolution and not the greatest writing in the world.

3. The most cringe-inducing part of the film would be the climactic romance scene between Ben and Lucy. In a heartwarming moment Lucy reads Ben a very personal poem she wrote, which ends up being the lyrics to the song “I’m Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman” in spoken word form. It is pretty difficult to take seriously, but then again the whole film is difficult to watch if you take it too seriously.  

On a more positive note, I thought Lucy losing her virginity was pretty tastefully done. I mean, it was a fairly standard teen movie scene, but I liked how it was not with some random guy who she had met 30 minutes earlier, or with some ex-boyfriend who she was secretly still harbouring feelings for. She lost it to some guy who she met on a road trip who she gradually developed a crush on, sure they were probably not going to get married and be together forever, but that is standard teenage life. I also appreciated how her deadbeat mum who ran out of the family when Lucy was young (played by Kim Cattrall), remained her deadbeat mum. There was no magical reunion, no moment of enlightenment, her mum was just weak and undeserving of Lucy’s love, which in itself is a difficult pill to swallow. In a way, I thought this was even more progressive than the inclusion of rape, teen media usually preaches Conservative values and the glorification of the nuclear family to its audience. Lucy attempted to reunite her nuclear family, but the film dismissed this notion, and she learnt that the family she already had: her, her father, and her friends, were just as much a family without a mother figure. 

All in all, yeah the film is far from perfect, it was never going to be a an Oscar contender, though I doubt that it was ever its intention. Sometimes a silly fun movie is just a silly fun movie. Britney proves her star power once again, and I was very impressed by her acting, going so far to say that she was the best part of the film. I cannot deny that watching the film makes me feel a ping of sadness, especially as we know what happened to her a few years later, but this film helps keep her legacy alive, and as someone who grew up idolising her, seeing happy Britney will have a special place in my heart.  

[wormtrain80]

60+ Tarot Card Analysis Ideas

On this celebration, they provide 3 mins absolutely free, regardless of the chosen solution. In other words, you can pick a tarot card reading for love, a psychic conversation, and even a fortune-telling session if thats what you want. Although they request for your bank card information, they just bill you after your session ends.

One of the most essential tarot pattern utilized in these 2 nations was the Tarot card of Marseilles of Milanese origin. The earliest enduring tarot cards are the 15 or two Visconti-Sforza tarot card decks repainted in the mid-15th century for the rulers of the Duchy of Milan. He explained a 60-card deck with 16 cards having photos of the Roman gods and fits depicting four sort of birds. Other very early decks that likewise showcased classical motifs include the Sola-Busca and Boiardo-Viti decks of the 1490s. Alongside the usage of tarot card cards to divine for others by specialist cartomancers, tarot is likewise made use of widely as a device for seeking individual advice and also spiritual development. You can think about a tarot card reading as a way to tell your life story, including the components that have not happened yet. The reading won't be rather as certain as your preferred book, however it will certainly be all about you. You're the story's main personality, though the tarot card story most likely consists of details concerning individuals and scenarios around you. This business has actually been in business because 1989, offering extremely exact psychic readings by chat, phone, as well as live video clip. They enable you to make a decision based on understanding the context. To further comprehend just how tarot cards work as well as just how they can assist shed light on your lovemaking, you shouldnt ask closed-ended inquiries. Also a easy free love tarot reading can use you extremely helpful details. You can get to a greater understanding when it concerns factors that influence your past, present, as well as future partnerships. Keep reading to discover exactly how psychic support can work in your support. Every deck has its own subtleties, and also every visitor has their very own analyses. I was therefore determined asked him to select a card for me after my interview-- something I can focus on or learn from. He 'd reportedly been doing complimentary tarot readings at a French coffee shop for several years; as just recently as 2017, a Facebook user posted that he still appeared on Wednesdays, as did a TripAdvisor reviewer. At its many fundamental, tarot card tells tales about the cycles of our lives. Mixing the deck, choosing cards and laying them out in order discloses what different tests and tribulations we might encounter during any type of provided journey. Nonetheless, the cards in the significant arcana do not necessarily represent us in a offered reading; they may stand for another person in our lives, or represent even more general concerns. Tarot is a complicated language, as well as every reading is various; similarly, every viewers as well as the methodology they make use of to translate the method the cards communicate is different. This is just one of the more varied sites absolutely free tarot readings online. You do not need to use them for each analysis, yet it's a great way to get started while you discover the cards. Among the easiest readings you can make use of to acquaint yourself with the cards is the past, present, future spread. Take the leading card from your shuffled deck, as well as expose them one by one, left to right. While you shuffle, assume meticulously about the area of your life in which you 'd like extra quality for. Experts typically believe tarot card cards can help the private explore one's spiritual path. Expert fortuneteller contend times been implicated of charlatanism. Heavy use of the Rider-Waite-Smith Tarot card was also advertised in the works of Eden Gray, whose three books on the tarot card made comprehensive use the deck. With cost-free psychic readings by means of an e-mail address, you won't obtain the advantage of listening to the individual's voice or seeing their face, yet you do get to take your time with the discussion in such a way that's unrushed. With e-mail, you do not have to await the psychic to be on-line and available to converse with you. Instead, send an e-mail question whenever the mood strikes, as well as your advisor will compose back to your e-mail address as quickly as they can. With cost-free analyses, you'll generally need to get rid of your charge card details and also an e-mail address to access the services. We'll also give you a couple of pointers on what to anticipate during your first tarot analysis, and also explain how tarot card readings work. A three-card spread has the visitor draw three cards from the deck after it's been mixed and cut in half by the querent. Typically, the first called pulled represents the past, the second stands for the present, as well as the third represents the future. Just how those timelines are interpreted depends on the analysis and the concern being asked-- "future" may indicate tomorrow or it might indicate one decade from now. The most popular and well-known deck is the Rider-Waite, drawn by illustrator Pamela Colman Smith and also published in 1910. These cards are recognized for their simple images, their straightforward color pattern, and also their importance. Furthermore, the Minor Arcana likewise includes 40 phoned number cards which are organized into 4 Matches of 10 cards each. These stand for the different scenarios that we come across in our daily lives. Oranum is your best choice if you like on the internet tarot card reading solutions using video conversation as opposed to messages or call. Although there are a large number of love psychics offered online, it is essential to select a service that is genuine, trustworthy, and customer-friendly in nature. With many choices readily available at the click of a computer mouse, choosing a genuine tarot card reading area is always hard. Shuffling and dealing with the cards is a great means to literally connect with the deck that you're utilizing. As instinct is an essential element of a analysis, you'll require to bring on your own right into the cards. Try to shuffle at least once, yet nevertheless often times you feel is necessary to obtain the cards " gotten rid of". I'm sure if you're right here, you're already filled with inquiries. Many people end up being curious regarding tarot card when they are confronted with excellent uncertainty in their lives. As well as when the cards are utilized appropriately, they show to be a awesome tool to aid you take into consideration other point of views as well as move on in the most effective method possible. I've been utilizing Psychic Resource for years and also they have actually always been really friendly, compassionate, and exact. Because the earliest tarot card cards were hand-painted, the variety of the decks created is thought to have been small. https://tarot-masters.com was just after the innovation of the printing press that automation of cards came to be possible. The expansion of tarot outside of Italy, initially to France and Switzerland, occurred during the Italian Battles. Right Here at Golden String Tarot card, we recognize that tarot is not about disclosing a fixed future, yet instead concerning exploring your unconscious self. He drew a deck from his breast pocket-- evidently, he brings the significant arcana from the Marseille deck with him almost everywhere-- as well as picked The Lovers card. Everybody typically obtains excited when The Lovers turns up in a analysis, given that we all assume that it indicates advantages for our lovemaking; yet it does not always show romantic love in any way. While they are an on the internet reading service and also can talk, they mainly do tarot analyses by phone. While that's impressive in itself, what really attracts attention concerning this network is the experience of the tarot card masters you discover there. They provide informative analyses that use the tarot as a tool to magnificent information regarding a person's conditions. They have actually developed tarot card checking out to the point of it being an art kind and I've constantly found out more concerning myself as well as exactly how to navigate my existing life circumstance from hanging out on the site. Kasamba has been supplying tarot readings on the internet for two decades now. There are several tarot card decks available, and also each deck and visitor are one-of-a-kind. The viewers will establish the cards out in different patterns using differing varieties of cards. Hence, if you do select a expert love psychic analysis, youll be able to come close to the next events in your life with even more guts. You can discover every information you need to find out about your existing and future love life. Likewise, youll learn to make the ideal choices and depend on the right people. What you really need in order to utilize the power of a tarot reading to the optimum, is a very intuitive and experienced overview. The interpretation offered by a actual psychic is the result of experiences given from generation to generation. According to many psychic sources on free love tarot details, you must ask open-ended questions. This is since tarot cards can help you clear up the topic, not tell you what to do. Lots of people suggest the Rider-Waite deck for newbies, as the cards' significances are so typically instinctive-- as well as when they're not, plenty of interpretation guides exist in books and online. Several decks, including the Rider-Waite, included a little sheet of paper specifying each of the card's most typical analyses. Though tarot card cards have actually handled a mystical meaning in the cultural imagination, they were originally intended as even more of a party game. The cards have actually been used because at the very least the mid-15th century; the earliest taped decks came from numerous parts of Italy. I think I can assist you comprehend the covert significance of things. Our totally free tarot card readings should enable you to recognize your future better as well as comprehend what awaits you. Tarot card readings are a powerful form of prophecy that utilize an old deck of cards to aid you discover response to your crucial questions about love, connections, your career, financial resources and also more. Psychics as well as foreteller have actually made use of Tarot cards for centuries, and also Trusted Tarot card will certainly provide you an accurate analysis that's personalized based the cards you choose and also the order you select them. Every card has a various meaning relying on its placement, so you will get a one-of-a-kind as well as in-depth viewpoint on your current situation. To prepare for your reading, I suggest that you listen to this grounding excercise - then scroll down as well as select your cards. The tarot card deck includes 78 cards, each of which is associated with its very own particular imagery, meaning, as well as tale. Out of the 78 cards, there are 22 significant Arcana cards that stand for the karmic as well as spiritual lessons of a person's life. The 56 Minor Arcana cards represent the tribulations and also trials that we, as people, face in our day-to-days live. Among the Minor Arcana cards, there are 16 Tarot Court Cards which represent 16 various personality type that we reveal at various times.

[thedisneychef]

The Year of a Million Dreams Blue Glo-tini

My heart has such a warm spot for the Blue Glo-Tini... It’s like the Walt Disney World mixed drink mascot for me. Believe it or not (I know you won’t but that’s OK) I had never actually had much in the way of alcohol before sipping this sweet little drink back in 2008. Maybe that’s why this drink is synonymous with the adult side of Disney for me now? Now I know it’s kind of early to dub a recipe from 4 years ago a classic, but I think this certainly could be a contender. (Editor’s note… This was originally written in 2012. It’s now been 7 years, we can call this a classic recipe… Because I say so). First of all, it comes from just about the best Disney promotion in recent memory, Disney’s “Year of a Million Dreams,” a promotion that was so much fun, it lasted over 2 years and I keep hoping will come back. There were special shows, parades, characters, and people chosen at random for all sorts of special magical moments, everything from dream Fast Passes to special lanyards, pins, or Mickey ears, to overnight stays in Cinderella’s Castle, even a whirlwind trip over 15 days to every Disney theme park in the world. I wish I could tell you the excitement that came with seeing the Dream Squad with their baby blue shirts and crisp white vests walking towards you with big smiles and unlimited wish-granting potential, making your mind reel with the possibility at what you were about to receive, what wish was going to be granted… And then watching in disappointment as they choose the family in front of you to carry Dream FastPasses and take an exclusive behind-the-magic tour with an Imagineer.  Because that’s my luck. To this day I blow right through the Dinosaur gift shop because I know that the need to look at dyed agate and the same fossilized rocks sold at every knick knack store across the country cost me Dream FastPasses back in 2008.  Am I bitter?  Maybe only a little. Luckily for bad planners like me, there were a variety of special drinks available across all of the parks to help drown away the sorrow that came with losing out to a wish granted, my favorite being the Blue Glo-tini. I had my first (and second and third) drink at Coral Reef in EPCOT and I remember our server talking about  how, when he lost power due to a hurricane, all he had were the blue ice cubes served in the drink to light up his apartment for 2 days. I won’t lie, I ordered the drink for the blue light-up ice cube. I’m not much of a drinker, not a fan of martinis, and it wasn’t covered under the Disney Dining Plan and paying $8.50 for a drink was against everything I stood for. But it looked so cool, I just had to give it a shot. It was so good, I ordered two more, had one of the best meals I’ve had at Disney, and remember very little about walking back to the bus that took us to our hotel. I do remember telling a security guard he was doing a great job, though. While the “Year of a Million Dreams” is long gone, the special signature drink of the event lives on at a variety of restaurants in both the parks and at the resorts, renamed as simply the Blue Glo-tini. A word of warning: they’re stronger than you think. Looking for more adult fun from Disney? I have plenty of recipes to choose from, including the Triple Yeti Blast, the Key Lime Coconut Martini, and the Magical Star Cocktail. You know you want to try these out for your next party… They’re all incredible! How about you guys? What’s your favorite mixed drink at Disney? Are there specialty drinks you miss more than anything? Have you ever praised a cast member for their good work after having perhaps one-too-any Glo-Tinis? Read the full article

[reecenmkq296]

More On Cinema Hd Movie Download

The Very Best Android Apps

Applications that declare to save RAM.

You obtain every one of the attributes free of charge, albeit in a rather restricted ability, such as two suggestions per job (premium makes that infinite). Some other excellent alternatives in the room include Todoist, Microsoft To Do, Any.do, as well as Ike.

What are the best apps to have on your phone?

More than two million apps are available on the App Store.

Both techniques have their disadvantages and also pros, but they're both still outstanding options to access your texts all over. Textra is an additional terrific alternative if you do not need desktop texting.

Action Time !!

There are 8 million applications offered on the Google play shop since the initial quarter of 2019. Inform us about them in the remarks if we missed out on any of the ideal free Android applications! To see our total listing of ideal application listings, click here.

This is the official mobile application store by Google where customers can find and download and install any type of compatible application for their Android-powered mobile phones. You can additionally inspect the statics like leading free/paid apps in your area, upcoming trending mobile applications and also even more. This decade has actually been a time of impressive growth for the mobile economic situation. With a 5% rise in downloads, and 15% development in consumer spend (omitting third-party Android) year-over-year in 2019 this looks set to proceed in 2020.

Most of those amazing pictures you see on Facebook, Twitter, etc come from right here. Imgur also occurs to be the picture upload solution that most people use on Reddit. Both Giphy and also Imgur are totally free to download as well as use.

What are the top 10 downloaded apps?

Well, if you want to find hidden apps on your Android phone, click Settings, then go to the Applications section on your Android phone menu. Have a look on the two navigation buttons. Open the menu view and press Task. Check an option that says “show hidden apps”.

Standing on the cusp of a brand-new years, App Annie looks back on top Applications and Gamings of the 2010s.

On top of that, it can assist produce almost impossible passwords for you to make use of on your accounts. It has cross-platform assistance so you can use it on computer systems, smart phones, tablet computers, or whatever. There are others, but LastPass constantly feels like it's one step ahead. You can additionally get hold of LastPass Authenticator to support it for included protection. There are various other excellent options like 1Password, Dashlane, Little Bit Warden, KeepassDroid, as well as others that are nearly as excellent.

I have still yet to get anything, so no 7-10 is not precise. I have tried to contact them 7 times through different contact e-mails given after comprehensive research and not one reaction. Do not was waste your time playing or perhaps downloading and install since it not does anything to secure your phone. Your Android hàs its very own features to protect itself. I reported them to BBB after absolutely nothing from them and being misleading.

Mobile Has actually Gone To the Heart of Major Modifications in Customer Actions This Decade.

If you're the sort of individual with lots of documents currently saved in Dropbox, this app is a must-have. Asana is the 800-pound gorilla of task monitoring for groups, dwarfing other prominent solutions like the capable Trello. Asana is all about operations and checkbox jobs that can be designated to people.

If you include in that the Waze experience, which includes lots of its very own attributes, and you will not need one more navigating application. It's special as well as enjoyable in manner ins which Google Maps isn't as well as we also highly suggest it. This is the checklist of those applications in Play Shop which are paid, and also contend the very least 1 million downloads on one-of-a-kind Android Instruments. These are the Google Play apps with over one billion downloads on special devices. Nearly all of these applications are had by either Google, Facebook, Samsung or Microsoft.

After that sophisticated picture cinemaapk editing and enhancing put it on par with Photoshop Express for picture correction as well as manipulation. Instagram Stories is now far more preferred than Snapchat's similar attribute.

NECESSITY HAVE !! The Ultimate Listing of Many Used Apps On The Planet 2020.

With its clever layout as well as a substantial collection of foods, it makes rapidly logging the calories you take in and what you melt while exercising a snap. A barcode scanner makes it even easier to log that post-workout treat. This physical fitness application likewise plays great with other such apps, so your data won't be bound in simply one place. MyFitnessPal won't offer you an entire exercise regimen, but it can make you much more knowledgeable about your behaviors.

[noussommeslessquelettes]

Oh fun! Things you said mini fic? 11 or 20?💕💕💕

MM OKAY SO! Ever since I first started writing kl fic I had this idea for a fake relationship AU. I never managed to complete the plot of it so it never got written, but I’ve always wanted to write one particular scene from it, and when I got this I jumped on the chance to write it!!!

Background on the fic: fake dating AU. Lance’s brother is getting married, and they’re out of town for a long weekend for the wedding. Hunk was invited, and with that Lance and him brought Keith and Pidge as their plus-ones.

When they get there, they find out that Keith and Lance’s exes were invited to the wedding too--what’s worse, they’re attending the wedding as a couple. Keith makes the executive decision that the both of them are going to fake date and be obnoxiously in love to make them jealous. Hijinks ensue, along with feelings, the latter of which are under the cut!

Send me a ship with one of these and I’ll write a mini fic

11. Things you said when you were drunk

Preview: Keith liked to think that the phrase had been better formed in his head, but what came out ended up being, “I thought vodka crans were a Sad Lance Drink.”

Lance huffed a humourless laugh. “Well, you’re lookin’ at a Sad Lance Lance, buddy.”

CW: drinking/drunkenness, (American) underage drinking, mentions of vomit

Keith had never imagined being a fake boyfriend to be more effort than being a real one had ever been. Then again, he’d been a bit foolish to assume that anything could be easy when it involved Lance McClain.

But because Lance’s family wasn’t privy to their little secret, it meant that when the wedding party lost the Nuisance of Honour, the immediate suggestion from Lance’s mother was that Keith, as Lance’s Real Boyfriend™, lead the charge on the search efforts. And come one A.M., it meant that Keith made the call to relieve the others of their duty, and to continue the search alone.

And yes, it might’ve been Keith’s decision to start this fake relationship in the first place. But it didn’t give Lance permission to go AWOL past midnight, on the night before the wedding, when the two of them had to wake up at fucking seven o’clock tomorrow. But the world didn’t trade in the currency of ‘should’s, and that’s why Keith was riding the elevator down to the front lobby at half-past one instead of sinking back into the plush sheets of the king-sized bed waiting for him 25, 26, now 27 floors above.

At this point, he was about ready to tell the concierge to phone the police about a missing person, then fuck off and go to bed. He indulged in the fantasy of shucking this mess off onto somebody else, as he stomped up towards the front desk—squinting his eyes to contend with the reflection of the chandelier against the counter’s polished brass. Turning his head askance as he passed the hotel bar—

Wait. He froze in his tracks. The bar.

It was so obvious he could’ve smacked himself—they’d checked the fucking pool in the first ten minutes of the search, and they didn’t think of the bar?!—but he focused what little energy he had left on diverting his path, moving close enough to peer past the glass into the darkened room, and locating the one patron perched alone on a barstool. He raised a glass in cheer towards the bartender, then knocked back a swig of the drink—far from his first, judging by how very nearly he toppled out of his seat.

“Fantastic,” Keith deadpanned under his breath as Lance managed to steady himself with a hand on the bartop, his laughter ringing out clear as a bell when Keith pushed through the glass door, shadows falling over him as he moved toward the counter. “Hey asshole,” he called out, holding his tongue past that to judge just how drunk Lance was, lest he waste a castigation on someone who’d not remember a word of it come morning.

Lance perked up at the appellation, spinning in the stool and hoisting his glass up once more. “Hey, babe! C’mere.” He set down the drink—thank god—and pat a hand on the stool next to him. “Join us—whatever y’order, ‘s on me.”

Keith bit down a groan—he’d been here all of five seconds, and already Lance’s behaviour was drawing looks from the other patrons, inscrutable in the dark, but undeniable all the same. He closed the distance between them, but refused the invitation, grabbing Lance’s elbow instead and giving a tug. “I’m not doing that—let’s go.”

“Wait, wait wait wait—” his other hand pumped a five-finger ‘stop’ that bumped against Keith’s chest. He laughed, then brought the hand up between them, curling his index finger to beckon Keith closer. When Keith didn’t oblige, he added a pull with the arm in Keith’s grip.

Keith sighed, leaning forward until their eyes matched, until the humidity of Lance’s vodka breath washed uncomfortably on his face. “What.”

“They didn’t card me,” he stage-whispered. He then failed to stifle a snort, and elbowed Keith away. “Guess that’s what ‘cha get with these bougie-ass places—don’t give a fuck as long as you’ve got the money to back it up!”

Keith folded his arms over his chest. “Please tell me you opened up a tab.”

Lance shrugged, reaching for his glass again. “Told ‘em to charge it to our room.”

He groaned—Sober Lance was definitely going to try and macgyver a way to pawn the bill off on Keith. But he supposed that was a problem for later, because in the moment Lance was tipping back the last of his current drink, slamming it down on the bartop with needless fervour, and waving the other hand to catch the bartender’s eye.

“Nope.” Keith reached out for his wrist and pulled the hand down. “You’ve had enough.” He looked up to the bartender, who cocked an eyebrow at him silently as Lance whined unintelligibly in his ear. “He’ll have a water.”

“Nooo…” Lance squirmed to get out of his grasp, only to reach back out for him as his ass slid off the stool. Keith caught him reflexively, arms wrapped around Lance’s waist, Lance with two hands fisted in the front of his shirt.

He brought his eyes up, nose brushing against Keith’s cheek with the act. Keith’s heart fluttered, a stammer building in his chest that ultimately turned into the word, “Okay.”

He hoisted Lance back up onto his perch. Once he was firmly seated, Keith crashed back onto the stool behind him—the one Lance had offered him initially—and eyed the bartender as they returned with a tall glass of water.

“And the vodka cran?” They asked.

“We’re good,” Keith dismissed immediately.

They moved on to the next customer with no further ado. It took Keith a split second to register what had been said, but when he did he turned to Lance, who now pointedly stared into the countertop, his smile fallen.

He liked to think that the phrase had been better formed in his head, but what came out ended up being, “I thought vodka crans were a Sad Lance Drink.”

Lance huffed a humourless laugh, reaching for the water. “Well, you’re lookin’ at a Sad Lance Lance, buddy.” His eyes slipped shut as he tipped back the glass, downing a third of it in one go.

Keith turned to rest an elbow on the table, his fingers drumming against the varnished wood. “So you came down here to drown your sorrows?”

Lance massaged his fingertips into his eyes. “What else ‘m I supposed to do?” He dropped the hand, looking straight ahead.

“Talk to someone? You usually love doing that.”

He made a sour face. “Don’t want to. I want to forget about it.”

Keith cocked an eyebrow. “And how’s that working out so far?”

“Honestly? Pretty good ‘til you showed up.”

Keith took it on the chin—it was no secret that their friendship wasn’t always on the best footing (that is, to anyone who wasn’t tricked into thinking they were in a relationship.) And while Lance usually wasn’t a belligerent drunk, he often got a little too truthful. Frankly, Keith had sort of suspected that Lance continued to harbour a little honest animosity towards him, despite the progress their relationship had undergone, and the unfortunate feelings Keith had developed in the process.

And he supposed he should accept responsibility for that, too. What kind of dumbass suggested to his crush that they pretend to date for the weekend of his brother’s wedding, just so they could make their respective exes jealous?

(The desperate kind, probably.)

“Well… then talk to me.” It was the best he could offer—because like hell he was leaving Lance drunk, depressed, and alone in a hotel bar. “I’m your boyfriend now, after all.”

“Fake boyfriend,” Lance amended pointedly.

Keith frowned—the whole weekend, they’d been calling each other their boyfriends tongue-in-cheek, even when they were alone. It was the first time Lance had expended the effort to correct him. “Is that what’s bothering you?”

“It’s—” He groaned, running his hands through his hair. “I’m way too drunk for this right now.”

“We’ve only got one more day,” he offered in consolation, “and we don’t have to do any couple shit if you don’t want to.”

“Mm-mm.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” He asked. Lance shrugged, taking another long swig of water. Keith huffed. “Lance, let’s go up—”

“Y’know why we started this in the first place? Like—” He gestured between the two of them. “Us—”

“I know—”

“Dating.” His hand hung in the open air, forgotten as his eyes went unfocused, lost in thought. After a moment, Keith reached out for his wrist, lowering it back down to Lance’s lap.

“I got it. We did it ‘cause… well, to get back at our exes.”

Lance snapped his fingers, grinning. “Exactly! Look at you, smarty pants, ‘n here I thought Hunk and Pidge were supposed to be the geniuses.”

Keith rolled his eyes, nudging the water back towards him. “Focus up, Lance; what about it?”

Lance polished it off, pushing it away so he could rest his elbows on the tabletop. “Guess it leaves me as the only dumb one.”

“Not—” He groaned. “Don’t start with that shit. I mean—”

“I know what you mean,” he murmured, the brief smile slipping off his face. “I’m not that dumb, Keith. Look, we were trying to make Nyma ‘n Rolo jealous, but we failed. They’re still happy, and in love, and they think that we’re happy and in love.”

Keith nodded. “Okay..?”

“But I’m not happy.” His voice started to waver as his volume control went to the wayside. He pushed off the bar to face Keith, a desperate kind of sadness shimmering in the corners of his eyes. “We’re not in love.”

Keith took that on the chin too, though it was noticeably harder to bear. Lance is the drunk one right now, not you, he told himself. Don’t say anything that you’ll both regret. He swallowed whatever protest he’d had down, and nodded for Lance to continue.

“I want to be,” he spoke it softly, like a confession. “I want to be so bad.”

“It’s not enough to want it,” Keith admitted. He knew it all too well.

Lance sniffed, wiping at his eyes. “And it’s not enough to pretend. But it’s nice for a while, at least.” Keith offered a wry smile, and Lance’s gaze slipped to the floor again. “I don’t know, it’s hard. The two of them are, like… you can tell. It’s like they were made for each other. No one’s ever felt that way about me.”

Swallow it down. Keith reached out a hand, placing it on Lance’s knee and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I knew all along Nyma didn’t love me, even though I did.” He covered the back of Keith’s hand under his palm, holding it there.

“I’m sorry, Lance.” He’d had no idea that Lance had been so serious about Nyma. For his part, he’d never once believed he was in love with Rolo. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have suggested—”

“It’s okay. It was stupid for me to pretend that it was real.” He sighed, threading their fingers together clumsily. “But it felt real, sometimes.”

“I know,” he lied. It felt like the right thing to say—and besides, what would Lance even care in his state?

“It felt real with you sometimes, too.”

Keith’s breath caught, his fingers twitching in Lance’s grasp. He’s drunk, he reminded himself. He’s drunk; he doesn’t know what he’s saying. He eased the tension in his body with a deep breath. “It’s not stupid, Lance. You… you care so much. You have so much love to give, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to share it—and you do; you share it with your family, and with your friends. And I guess sometimes, you share it with the people who don’t appreciate it.”

“And it sucks.”

Keith nodded. “I know.” And this time, it was the truth. “But one day, you’re going to find someone who’s stupid in love with you too—someone who’s never going to let you think otherwise.”

Lance scoffed. “Right.”

“I mean it. You’re worth a love worth fighting for, Lance, and you’re going to find it. And when you do, you’ll be the boyfriend of the luckiest person in the world.”

Lance smiled softly. “You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m drunk.”

“Well, I wouldn’t need to convince you to come to bed if you were sober,” he admitted. “But I still mean it.”

“Thanks,” he breathed. “Y’know, whatever guy manages to finally lands you’s going to be one lucky bastard, too.”

Keith sighed. “We’ll see about that.”

“You’re a pretty awesome fake boyfriend, ‘n I bet you’re an even better real one.”

He slid off the stool, wrapping an arm around Lance’s waist. “Well regardless, I’m about to be one hell of a great friend, and drag your sorry ass back to our hotel room.”

Lance hummed contentedly, wrapping his arms around Keith’s shoulders and leaning into him. “I want a piggyback.”

“No chance.” He tugged Lance to his feet, bracing himself when his weight inevitably slouched into him.

“Stop, stop—hanggon,” he slurred, his head slumping. “Guh, dizzy…”

Keith stilled, tapping his foot impatiently. “Have you hurled yet?”

“Mm-mm.” Lance took a step forward, and Keith took the charge onward once more.

Keith rolled his eyes—Lance was so lucky his fake boyfriend happened to be real in love with him. Keith, on the other hand, would have the misfortune of needing to watch his crush hopefully not choke on his own vomit for the next six hours. “How many drinks did you have?”

“No clue, ‘m too gay to count.” He giggled, then whispered, “Don’t tell my mommy, Keith.”

“What, that you’re gay, that you’re drunk, or that you can’t do math?”

“None. Be like… the KGB.”

“Okay, Lance.” He pushed through the glass door with a toe, marching them through before it swung back on them.

“The Keith Gay… Butts.” He dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Keith’s not proud of the laugh he had to stifle, too. “Oh, you’re so lucky I don’t have the hands to dial Pidge right now.”

“What can I say, I’m a lucky guy! Who needs a real boyfriend, anyway? I’ve already got a fake one with a cute butt who takes care of me.”

Keith typed up their floor number on the touchscreen by the elevator door. “God, you’re going to be so hungover tomorrow.”

“D’you got Advil?” Keith shook his head. “We’ll go to Marco’s room—his wife’s usually got some.”

The elevator bell rang, doors opening up for them, and he pulled Lance in. “You think you can act sober enough to face your brother?”

“Pshh, oh yeah, I got this.”

He pushed off of Keith, staggering a bit but ultimately gaining his footing. Then the elevator lurched into motion and he stumbled. Keith was ready to catch him the moment he did, Lance steadying himself with hands on his shoulders. Once stable, they brought their eyes up as one, and dissolved into a short fit of laughter.

When it eased, Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck, squeezing him close. “Sorry for being sloppy.”

Keith shook his head, returning the embrace. “Don’t be; you’ve held my hair back enough times to earn it.”

“Then thanks,” he said. “For being a good boyfriend.”

He twisted his fingers in the hem of Lance’s shirt. “Anytime.”

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened up.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

SAMBA versus SMB: Adversarial interoperability is judo for network effects

Before there was Big Tech, there was "adversarial interoperability": when someone decides to compete with a dominant company by creating a product or service that "interoperates" (works with) its offerings.

In tech, "network effects" can be a powerful force to maintain market dominance: if everyone is using Facebook, then your Facebook replacement doesn't just have to be better than Facebook, it has to be so much better than Facebook that it's worth using, even though all the people you want to talk to are still on Facebook. That's a tall order.

Adversarial interoperability is judo for network effects, using incumbents' dominance against them. To see how that works, let's look at a historical example of adversarial interoperability role in helping to unseat a monopolist's dominance.

The first skirmishes of the PC wars were fought with incompatible file formats and even data-storage formats: Apple users couldn't open files made by Microsoft users, and vice-versa. Even when file formats were (more or less) harmonized, there was still the problems of storage media: the SCSI drive you plugged into your Mac needed a special add-on and flaky driver software to work on your Windows machine; the ZIP cartridge you formatted for your PC wouldn't play nice with Macs.

But as office networking spread, the battle moved to a new front: networking compatibility. AppleTalk, Apple's proprietary protocol for connecting up Macs and networked devices like printers, pretty much Just Worked, providing you were using a Mac. If you were using a Windows PC, you had to install special, buggy, unreliable software.

And for Apple users hoping to fit in at Windows shops, the problems were even worse: Windows machines used the SMB protocol for file-sharing and printers, and Microsoft's support for MacOS was patchy at best, nonexistent at worst, and costly besides. Businesses sorted themselves into Mac-only and PC-only silos, and if a Mac shop needed a PC (for the accounting software, say), it was often cheaper and easier just to get the accountant their own printer and backup tape-drive, rather than try to get that PC to talk to the network. Likewise, all PC-shops with a single graphic designer on a Mac—that person would often live offline, disconnected from the office network, tethered to their own printer, with their own stack of Mac-formatted ZIP cartridges or CD-ROMs.

All that started to change in 1993: that was the year that an Australian PhD candidate named Andrew Tridgell licensed his SAMBA package as free/open source software and exposed it to the wide community of developers looking to connect their non-Microsoft computers—Unix and GNU/Linux servers, MacOS workstations—to the dominant Microsoft LANs.

SAMBA was created by using a "packet sniffer" to ingest raw SMB packets as they traversed a local network; these intercepted packets gave Tridgell the insight he needed to reverse-engineer Microsoft's proprietary networking protocol. Tridgell prioritized compatibility with LAN Manager, a proprietary Network Operating System that enterprise networks made heavy use of. If SAMBA could be made to work in LAN Manager networks, then you could connect a Mac to a PC network—or vice-versa—and add some Unix servers and use a mix of SAMBA and SMB to get them all to play nice with one another.

The timing of Tridgell's invention was crucial: in 1993, Microsoft had just weathered the Federal Trade Commission’s antitrust investigation of its monopoly tactics, squeaking through thanks to a 2-2 deadlock among the commissioners, and was facing down a monopoly investigation by the Department of Justice.

The growth of local-area networks greatly accelerated Microsoft's dominance. It's one thing to dominate the desktop, another entirely to leverage that dominance so that no one else can make an operating system that connects to networks that include computers running that dominant system. Network administrators of the day were ready to throw in the towel and go all-Microsoft for everything from design workstations to servers.

SAMBA changed all that. What's more, as Microsoft updated SMB, SAMBA matched them, relying on a growing cadre of software authors who relied on SAMBA to keep their own networks running.

The emergence of SAMBA in the period when Microsoft's dominance was at its peak, the same year that the US government tried and failed to address that dominance, was one of the most salutary bits of timing in computing history, carving out a new niche for Microsoft's operating system rivals that gave them space to breathe and grow. It's certainly possible that without SAMBA, Microsoft could have leveraged its operating system, LAN and application dominance to crush all rivals.

So What Happened?

We don't see a lot of SAMBA-style stories anymore, despite increased concentration of various sectors of the tech market and a world crying out for adversarial interoperability judo throws.

Indeed, investors seem to have lost their appetite for funding companies that might disrupt the spectacularly profitable Internet monopolists of 2019, ceding them those margins and deeming their territory to be a "kill zone."

VCs have not lost their appetite for making money, and toolsmiths have not lost the urge to puncture the supposedly airtight bubbles around the Big Tech incumbents, so why is it so hard to find a modern David with the stomach to face off against 2019's Goliaths?

To find the answer, look to the law. As monopolists have conquered more and more of the digital realm, they have invested some of those supernormal profits in law and policy that lets them fend off adversarial interoperators.

One legal weapon is "Terms of Service": both Facebook and Blizzard have secured judgments giving their fine print the force of law, and now tech giants use clickthrough agreements that amount to, "By clicking here, you promise that you won't try to adversarially interoperate with us."

A modern SAMBA project would have to contend with this liability, and Microsoft would argue that anyone who took the step of installing SMB had already agreed that they wouldn't try to reverse-engineer it to make a compatible product.

Then there's "anti-circumvention," a feature of 1998's Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA). Under Section 1201 of the DMCA, bypassing a "copyright access control" can put you in both criminal and civil jeopardy, regardless of whether there's any copyright infringement. DMCA 1201 was originally used to stop companies from making region-free DVD players or modding game consoles to play unofficial games (neither of which is a copyright violation!).

But today, DMCA 1201 is used to control competitors, critics, and customers. Any device with software in it contains a "copyrighted work," so manufacturers need only set up an "access control" and they can exert legal control over all kinds of uses of the product.

Their customers can only use the product in ways that don't involve bypassing the "access control," and that can be used to force you to buy only one brand of ink or use apps from only one app store.

Their critics—security researchers auditing their cybersecurity—can't publish proof-of-concept to back up their claims about vulnerabilities in the systems.

And competitors can't bypass access controls to make compatible products: third party app stores, compatible inks, or a feature-for-feature duplicate of a dominant company's networking protocol.

Someone attempting to replicate the SAMBA creation feat in 2019 would likely come up against an access control that needed to be bypassed in order to peer inside the protocol's encrypted outer layer in order to create a feature-compatible tool to use in competing products.

Another thing that's changed (for the worse) since 1993 is the proliferation of software patents. Software patenting went into high gear around 1994 and consistently gained speed until 2014, when Alice v. CLS Bank put the brakes on (today, Alice is under threat). After decades of low-quality patents issuing from the US Patent and Trademark Office, there are so many trivial, obvious and overlapping software patents in play that anyone trying to make a SAMBA-like product would run a real risk of being threatened with expensive litigation for patent infringement.

This thicket of legal anti-adversarial-interoperability dangers has been a driver of market concentration, and the beneficiaries of market concentration have also spent lavishly to expand and strengthen the thicket. It's gotten so bad that even some "open standards organizations" have standardized easy-to-use ways of legally prohibiting adversarial interoperability, locking in the dominance of the largest browser vendors.

The idea that wildly profitable businesses would be viewed as unassailable threats by investors and entrepreneurs (rather than as irresistible targets) tells you everything you need to know about the state of competition today. As we look to cut the Big Tech giants down to size, let's not forget that tech once thronged with Davids eager to do battle with Goliaths, and that this throng would be ours to command again, if only we would re-arm it.

(Crossposted from EFF Deeplinks)

https://boingboing.net/2019/07/18/kill-zones-r-us.html

[blindrapture]

In his contrary and on reality, which Bichop Babwith bares to his whitness in his Just a Fication of Villumses, this Mr Heer Assassor Neelson, of sorestate hearing, diseased, formarly with Adenoiks, den feed all Lighty, laxtleap great change of retiring family buckler, highly accurect in his everythinks, from tencents coupoll to bargain basement, live with howthold of nummer seven, wideawake, woundabout, wokinbetts, weeklings, in black velvet on geolgian mission senest mangy years his rear in the lane pictures, blanking same with autonaut and annexes and got a daarlingt babyboy bucktooth, the thick of a gobstick, coming on ever so nerses nursely, gracies to goodess, at 81. That why all parks up excited about his gunnfodder. That why ecrazyaztecs and the crime ministers preaching him mornings and makes a power of spoon vittles out of his praverbs. That why he, persona erecta, glycorawman arsenicful femorniser, for a trial by julias, in celestial sunhat, with two purses agitatating his theopot with wokklebout shake, rather incoherend, from one 18 to one 18 biss, young shy gay youngs. Sympoly far infusing up pritty tipidities to lock up their rhainodaisies and be nice and twainty in the shade. Old grand tuttut toucher up of young poetographies and he turn aroundabrupth red altfrumpishly like hear samhar tionnor falls some make one noise. It's his last lap, Gigantic, fare him weal! Revelation! A fact. True bill. By a jury of matrons. Hump for humbleness, dump for dirts. And, to make a long stoney badder and a whorly show a parfect sight, his Thing went the wholyway retup Suffrogate Strate.

Finnegans Wake, page 242.

Context, as best as I can manage it: This is from the first chapter of Section/Part/Book II, this chapter also known as (and containing) The Mime of Mick, Nick, and the Maggies, a magical eternal pantomime reenacting, among other things, the war in heaven between the angels Michael (St. Mick) and Lucifer (St. Nick), before the audience of fellow angels (the Maggies). They contend for the right to inhabit the heart of humanity, here represented by Isa the impressionable and self-driven young girl. Well, not here represented, in that quoted passage or anything, I’ll get to that.

The part of Mick is played by the character Chuff, “the fine frank fairhaired fellow of the fairytales,” sort of a theatrical archetype, who in turn is played by Mr. Sean O’Mailey, and whose performance is admired by young Kev in the audience. The part of Nick is played by the character Glugg, “the bold bad bleak boy of the storybooks,” and that theatrical archetype is played onstage by Mr. Seumas McQuillad, whose performance is admired by young Dolph. The part of Isa is played by the character Izod, “a bewitching blonde who dimples delightfully and is approached in loveliness only by her grateful sister reflection in a mirror,” performed by Miss Butys Pott, and is admired by Issy. Kev, Dolph, and this particular incarnation of Issy feature primarily in the next chapter. I’m just setting up context here for that quote up there, still.

So this is a chapter of games upon games, played and replayed in plays by players and in sleep by our minds. The Mime is performed every evening to usher in the dusk, attended by a worldwide audience and fuelled by the prompts of that vital impulse that makes us alive. As the play’s programme goes, “Shadows by the film folk, masses by the good people.” The same good people that we also know of as fairies and fae here dance and rhyme a neverending story.

The chapter is fairly long but formally structured. After reading the Mime’s programme, “an argument follows” and starts the action proper. Glugg and Chuff meet, Chuff distrusts Glugg, Glugg is given three chances to guess the colour Izod is thinking of; he gives earnest and pretty clever guesses but gets them all wrong, so he’s cast away and the angels all dance around Chuff while Izod/Isa grows despondent in the gloam. In his exile, Glugg plots to write an uncompromising and remarkable piece of blackmail about “his guffer” and “gummer” (father and mother, and all they represent), which ends up sounding a lot like Ulysses-- but then a reverie of romantic poetry sends him a toothache of ecstasy, and Isa sends him a wire calling him home. She’s getting married to Chuff, see, and this is Glugg’s chance to stop things, because Chuff is kinda terrible for her. So he races back, he approaches the angels again, he is given three more chances to guess her colour, and he fails again, so he’s sent away again as the Maggies sing a hymn for Chuff and sunshine (with night falling shortly after). But this time, Glugg is still around. He’s low down on the ground, mocked by the party of dancers around him, and he’s seeking a new kind of revenge. Blackmail and poetry were too simple; his new plan is to clean up his act, shine his own light, be genuinely good as they all want him to be, and provoke Chuff into treating him as competition. So he rises, and he brings his worldly exile knowledge to the angels, telling them praise of father and mother but in a frank language they’re not used to.

And that is the context for the quoted passage. The text is telling us of Glugg’s new story, not penned but passed down orally from party to party. You could perhaps imagine him saying “Oh, I love God, he’s a perfectly ordinary man who swears and drinks and farts and is insulted and petty like the best of us. A man of the people, a feminist and well-versed in the ‘improper’ dialects of our language, who made us in his own image and is waiting patiently for our leaders to catch up to his values.” It’s a subversive story, a revolutionary and heretical take, but one speaking a language of What People Want To Actually Hear. (It might actually be damning God by faint praise, that may be the intent, but this is a book where that’s always going to be an open question. I think it’s fascinating to consider the reading where it’s meant sincerely-- “God is good because he’s ordinary, and by implication he has no use for any of the trappings you obsess over, your social power is founded on false principles!”)

What happens after this bit? I’m, uh, still figuring that out! I don’t have convenient Tumblr posts to give me these outlines; interpreting the Wake is slow when it’s done by hand. Partly why I would want to make these posts at all. But somewhere Glugg and Chuff have a proper confrontation, and somewhere Glugg gets a third and final chance to guess Isa’s colour, and somewhere HCE calls for his children to come inside, do their homework, say their prayers, and go to bed.

So anyway. All that being said. The reason I took a picture was just to capture “young shy gay youngs,” an excellent phrase.