#in either case it's a shitty thing to do as she's a fantastic professional a great programmer and has v good social skills

[mexashepot]

So it turned out my favourite colleague was fired and didn't quit on her own

Fired only 2 months upon coming back to work after maternity leave

Both my dad's AND my friend's reaction to that was "is it even legal?"

[courtney-deserved-better]

whats ur writing schedule/process like! not in a “write faster” way, but i think once you mentioned writing in script form? and i like the way you wrote ur most recent fic! just curious bc ur works are just really good :)

this is a great question!!

if its not slippery slopes, ill usually get an idea for something and periodically jot down notes when they come to me until I feel like i have enough information to start writing (or if im just motivated), that's what i did for my horror challenge rewrite. and for stuff that's like... rewrites of an episode that aren't as character-focused as slippery slopes, i usually read the episode transcripts and try to replicate that total drama style with my own writing

for shorter oneshots, i usually just get a vague idea and run with it until i find a good ending spot, then i go back and clean it up a bit so the structure works

slippery slopes is an... interesting cycle. chapters are getting long enough that i cant just write them in one sitting any more (i think ch5 was the last chapter i did that for) and instead ill agonize over the beginning (always the hardest part to write for me) but once i get going with that i usually finish the chapter within a few days. then i reread the previous chapter to make sure it flows ok (and there aren't any contradictions) and then ill give myself a break where i dont do anything total drama related before coming back to edit and post. though before I do all that I type up notes and rough dialogue bits

and then once i post it it's like... a weight off my chest? like ive been purged or something?? idk its a weird sensation but im just like i Physically Cannot Write Anything For This Right Now and i don't start on the next chapter until that goes away. and then i either start the beginning and do nothing for a week before going back and finishing the chapter or i go into a manic state and write nonstop for a few days. right now i haven't reached a point where im ready to begin writing chapter 10 but i have a lot of notes for it.

(also as soon as i finish posting a chapter i try not to go on my laptop for like 12 hours so i don't obsessively refresh my email for comments. i love reading comments so much holy shit. please comment guys it makes fic authors feel so happy we will love you for it)

as for scripts: i am working on being a writer professionally, but specifically a playwright. writing in a script format comes more naturally to me than writing prose. funnily enough, i started posting fanfic just to practice my prose (and fix stuff in cobra kai that i didnt like) but things sort of... ended up here? idk man but im enjoying it.

right, so because writing in a script format is easier when im really struggling with a section in a fic ill usually scrap whatever i had and write it like a script, then translate that into prose. i was very excited to write the family videos for chapter 9 of slippery slopes, but i was Having Issues, so i redid it as a script and then rewrote that as prose. ill put the script version under the cut if you're interested in that.

but thank you so much for the question!! i do think my writing process is a bit unconventional but hey i think things are turning out well! if you have any more questions feel free to send them in!!

ok here is the last scene of ch 9 of slippery slopes in script format:

[SIERRA]

MOM: Hi honey! Omigosh this is so exciting! I bet you’re having such a great time! Especially since Chris is there! Is Chris watching this? Hi Chris! You know, I loooved you on that ice skating show. Your hair was fantastic! Well, it always is, haha. Do you really make your own hair gel? I’ve been trying to perfect the recipe but you’re just so hard to track down! Oh, you’re such a funny guy! I laughed sooo hard when you made all those jokes about marrying Chef.

Chef: hey!

Chris: ok just for the record, I wasn’t joking, we are married, Sierra tell your mom we’re married

Sierra: …can we just turn it off please

[COURTNEY]

DAD: Courtney, sayang, I know you’ve been going through a lot right now—

MOM: So you’d BETTER make it count. You’ve made it this far before, I want to see you getting all the way to the finale this time. And winning it. Enough moping about those hideous, good-for-nothing slackers! That’s what you get for hanging around freaks like them. You’re doing this for the million, now get the million. Is that clear?

ZARINA: And kick ass!

DAD: Zarina!

Video cuts out.

Alejandro: courtney you good?

Courtney: no, she’s right. Mama didn’t raise no quitter

Alejandro: [knows she’s still upset about duncan and gwen]

[ALEJANDRO]

MOM: Hola, Alejandro. We hope you are doing well, especially in such unsavory conditions. I’m glad to see you’ve made it to the final four— we expected nothing less, of course.

DAD: You have been utilizing your skills quite well. Though I wish you hadn’t been so… blatant about it. You’ll have to work twice as hard once this is over to convince people you’re trustworthy. But surely you were aware of that going into this… odd endeavor. That’s just politics. Reputation is everything.

JOSE: [snorts] Oh, and what a reputation you have, Al. I could easily compile hours of footage of your failures, but I, unlike you, do not waste my time on the frivolities of reality television. Though you always have been lacking in taste. Especially with that bratty girlfriend of yours— oh, my mistake, aren’t you dating the whiny weakling? It’s so hard to keep track! [laughs]

Alejandro: callate!

MOM: I’m sure Alejandro is just working an angle on them.

DAD: Whatever the case is, do not disappoint us.

[NOAH]

MOM: Hi Noah, I’m sorry, I don’t have time to record a full video, but I’m proud of you! Here are your sisters!

ISWARI: A million dollars? A million [bleep] dollars? Win it, Noah! Win it!

RUTH: Dude!! This is crazy! I know you can do this— good luck! Ark misses you! [holds up Ark who barks]

MARA: Are you insane? Why aren’t you dating Alejandro already?

Noah: shut up, mara, just because you can’t keep a boyfriend—

ANYA: Don’t let ‘em trick you! No mercy! Crush their skulls if you have to— no, wait, you’re not strong enough for that. We’ll get there!

LIYA: I say this as your sister, someone who loves you but is constantly annoyed by you— for someone who is quite literally a genius, you sure can be an idiot sometimes.

BALLARI: Okay, I literally have no idea how you’ve made it this far without an athletic bone in your body— are we sure you aren’t adopted? I’m kidding

ABS: You’re stubborn as hell when it comes to me, so you better be stubborn as hell when it comes to winning! And when you do win, get me a frozen yogurt machine, will you? I promise I won’t make you rock climb again!

JAEL: If you lose this, I’ll kill you with this racket. And then use your guts to make myself a new racket. So don’t fuck it up. Again.

Noah: [frozen, ashamed]

Sierra: well that was a mess

Courtney: ok show of hands, who felt better after hearing that? [no one raises hands]

Chris: yeah I was expecting this to be a lot more heartwarming…

Chef: chris just look at them. If they had stable home lives they wouldn’t be doing reality tv

Alejandro: can we please stop talking about this. Also aren’t you supposed to be flying the plane

Chef: oh fuck

Chris: yeah sure. I think im gonna call my mom

Everyone: …

Noah: ok so that was really shitty. Why dont we all go to first class and try and ignore our problems

Everyone: yeah ok sounds good

***

Courtney: so that sucked

Alejandro: at least your dad seems ok

Courtney: true. What are your guys dads like

Noah and Sierra: bold of you to assume I know my dad. Jinx

***

Alejandro: that last girl… you mentioned a sister who does tennis and hates you

Noah: yep

Alejandro: why?

Noah: none of your business. but… it is pretty justified

[somecunttookmyurl]

I'm very curious about the research you mentioned concerning CYP2D6 metabolism. Could you post or DM the name of the study? Is your plan to inhibit CYP2D6 by taking CBD or an anti-histamine to increase the effectiveness of the anphetamine based ADHD meds you're taking? Seems like an interesting (and well researched) plan - I hope it works for you if that's what you're doing!

YOU ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD. I’m gonna put this under a readmore so as to not bore the other 3,066 of you with weirdly specific pharmacology and pharmacogenetics talk Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, or a pharmacist, or any sort of medical professional at all. I have absolutely zero qualifications in pharmacology I’m just a nerd with half a psychology degree, a talent for study design, and shitty fucking doctors.

So I first learned about CYP26D metabolism (and the broader P450 cytochrome) in like 2017 from a friend doing a PhD in things much smarter than me. I’ve always been a Feral Drug Goblin (resistant if not immune to a lot of drugs) and she seemed to think that’s what was happening. Which tracks because like. 90% of the stuff that doesn’t work on me is a CYP2D6 substrate (the rest are CYP3A4 so I might have more than one defect, but if there’s something funky going on on 3A4 the effect is less pronounced)

Later discovered I have hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hEDS) and like... many if not most EDS sufferers have *at least* one P450 defect . Around 80% or so of people with chronic pain more generally have at least one P450 defect. It’s not something I’ve been tested for because a) even though CYP2D6 metabolism and its effect on drug treatment has been studied for like 30 years, the NHS only started introducing genomic testing for it in 2019 and b) getting a referral would require finding a doctor who knows what it is which, like, lmao. Honestly though we can be about 99% certain I’m an ultrarapid metaboliser, all things considered. Mostly I want a genomic test to see if any of the others are broken.

Now, I don’t know why it took me four years to think of it but over the weekend at 2:30am (I’m not allowed to have a thought during daylight hours actually) that like... logically speaking... if you gave a potent CYP2D6 inhibitor to an ultrarapid metaboliser it would normalise (or at least improve, depending on how many functional copies of the gene I’m dealing with like people have been found with thirteen copies) the metabolic function. Absolute galaxy brain moment.

Of course combining a CYP2D6 substrate and a CYP2D6 inhibitor generally carries a “moderately severe” interaction warning because if you’re alrealy, like, normal that could be dangerous. So I had a dig around to see if anybody had studied that specific thing and whether it was actually safe.

It took me... a pretty long time because this concept is massively understudied. I mean there’s 1001 studies on “does being an ultrarapid metaboliser of CYP2D6 affect [x substrate drug]” to the extent it’s like... yeah dude. The answer is yes. It’s always yes. I think we’ve proved this concept. Don’t think you need to do it for every single drug. We get it. There are a couple though. Both of the studies were only 5 participants, and were done 20 years ago (2000 and 2001) but in both cases all participants showed... honestly pretty amazingly positive responses and no ill effects. Which is why I’m so baffled that seemingly nobody has studied it since. Like “well, this went fantastically well! We shall never speak of it again” The first study gave the participants debrisoquine hydroxylation, which is the substance they use to test the function of CYP2D6 when they do the genomic test. So they weren’t on a CYP2D6 substrate already they were given it specifically for the study. Then they were given quinidine (an anti-arrhythmic which has sadly been disconintues) as an inhibitor. Without quinidine, the metabolic ratio of debrisoquine in the participants after 6 hours was 0.01 - 0.07. Which is, like, fuck all. With quinidine that amount was 12.6, 10.1, 9.2, 2.4, and 2.2. Participants had 3, 3, 4, 13, and 13 copies of the gene respectively so the more copies you have the less improvement you see, but < 0.1 to 2.2 is still huge https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2014903/ The second study in 2001, also 5 participants, administered nortriptyline as the substrate and then used paroxetine (an SSRI) as the inhibitor. After taking nortriptyline for a week, all participants had very low subtherapeutic levels of the drug in their systems. Following 2 weeks of treatment with paroxetine, 4/5 participants had normally-expected therapeutic levels of noritryptiline. The other participant withdrew after 1 week of paroxetine treatment after getting side effects from it but still had an increase in noritryptiline levels in that time so it was working he just didn’t tolerate paroxetine very well. https://sci-hub.se/https://ascpt.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1016/S0009-9236(01)78384-1

Those are, to my knowledge, the only studies done specifically to test whether you can normalise liver function using an inhibitor. There is a case study from 2006 of a 6 year old boy with ADHD who didn’t respond to drugs and was confirmed to be an ultrarapid metaboliser. The authors recommend usage of an inhibitor in such cases

https://sci-hub.se/https://journals.lww.com/psychopharmacology/Citation/2006/08000/An_ADHD_6_year_old_Child_Ultrarapid_Metabolizer.25.aspx

I can’t have paroxetine or fluoxetine because I have a bipolar-spectrum disorder and historically me and SSRIs are not friends. However buproprion (wellbutrin) is an inhibitor which I was prescribed before to counteract a side effect from atomoxetine and like I was definitely more functional at the time? But that was way before I had this genius plan, or knew it was an inhibitor, so. There’s been a supply issue here for it since July. So yeah. I’m going to be taking CBD. Amphetamines do absolutely fuck all by themselves so like literally my plan is “taking weed pills to try and make my liver talk to meth properly” which sounds absolutely ridiculous. Gonna be hilarious if it fuckin’ works. I’m going to be doing a proper study and writing it all up and everything. Emailed the researchers involved in the 3 studies to see if they’re interested in my data like 20 years later lmao but if you wanna read the study outline it’s here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1TOnToHMH7UhYMFM9qtv-4ZWmaV7Pr6IQeYv6QDAGVrQ/edit?usp=sharing Just gonna keep going unti it either works, or the amount of CBD required becomes too expensive (which would be like 9 weeks max bc I can’t afford to be taking more than 60mg CBD every day forever).

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 10

Connections

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Last time, the party arrived in Cauterdale, the heavily-fortified port city at war with nature. They arrived in search of members of the Deathseekers' Guild- the organization of professional adventurers and monster-hunters that likes to be very up-front about its mortality rate- to handle a dragon problem that they're personally a little underleveled for.

While Looseleaf had a fateful encounter with the Plot at the Temple of Andra, Saelhen and Oyobi were headed to the barracks of the city guard, to speak to "Mags", the guard on duty when the local Deathseekers were last seen leaving town. And there...

You remember Medd Cutter, right? Highly-memorable Medd Cutter, the NPC who got oneshot by a T-rex and whose life the party saved? Well, to spite Rex... whatever his last name was, the pro-patria-mori asshole guard captain guy, Saelhen has decided that she's going to start spreading the word of Medd's heroism.

Oyobi, unfortunately, is bent on spreading the word of her own extremely ill-advised heroism, and so the two are having some sort of hype-off as they make their way into the barracks and effortlessly charm their way past the guards to where their quarry is posted.

These two are manning some sort of huge brass contraption, bristling with lenses and dials. One of them is a yuan-ti pureblood- which there are an unusual number of in the city guard, compared to the general population. Weird. Saelhen politely introduces herself, and Verity Truescale refers them to Magnaranth aka Mags, the loxodon who last saw the Deathseekers leave town.

Mags doesn't have a huge amount to tell them- the Deathseekers, evidently, were going hunting, out east somewhere. They brought a lot of torches, so apparently they were headed somewhere dark? Underground, maybe? They were pretty cagey about what exactly they were going out to do. Still, Mags can provide the names and addresses of the Deathseekers in question.

...And Verity, checking the instruments, notices that something is wrong with the tides- apparently something large is disturbing the waters, but they can't quite pinpoint what- it's not any of the usual suspects, which include things by the name of "Darkie" or "Unnessie". Ominous!

After that, the party meets up at the local Temple of Iska, their designated rendezvous point. They catch each other up on their gains, and decide... well, the Deathseekers are going to be back within a couple days, so they'll just wait for them in town and get going with them, to make sure things in Barley and Wheat go smoothly.

Of course, the question then is "where do we stay?"

Options aren't great- Cauterdale is crowded, and the B&B market is incredibly shitty. The best lodging is on Eman's Knee, the island just off the coast of Cauterdale, but getting the ferry over there is expensive, and resort lodging on a tropical island is also expensive.

That- you can't just- I mean, just because- I'm- I'm allowed to be predictable, okay???

(And anyway, it's Corolos where I ended up doing a murder mystery.)

So, Looseleaf gets a 24 investigating the town's B&B market, and finds a pretty good place! It's a weapons shop Saelhen noticed earlier, which is renting out rooms. The place has a huge fence topped with spikes, so they probably won't even get robbed!

Aria of War, as it happens, is run by an elderly yet ripped-as-hell tabaxi man, who Saelhen... vaguely recognizes.

Benedict I. (GM): So, this shopkeeper's coat is familiar to you. It's definitely not the same person, but you once knew a girl in Timber Towers named Toothbrush, with almost the exact same coat. Could be a relative! Saelhen du Fishercrown: Yeah, tabaxi have a lot of coat variation; it's not a safe bet that they're related, but Saelhen is willing to go out on a limb with him. "Good evening, sir, and I'm sorry to bother you, but I felt I had to ask..." Fish Especially: "No discounts." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Do you have any relation to a..." Was Toothbrush her real name? Benedict I. (GM): As far as you know! Tabaxi have weird names. Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Toothbrush?" Fish Especially: He looks surprised. "Hold on, you know Toothbrush?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...I knew I knew that speckle pattern." Saelhen smiles widely and without guile. "I met her in Timber Towers a while back. She played the violin." "More specifically, she couldn't play the violin, but she always failed very effectively." Fish Especially: "I'll be! Her theatre troupe doing all right for itself, then?" "Even with the noise of that awful thing?" "I never know what to think when she writes those letters..." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Last I saw of them, they were doing pretty well for themselves! To be honest, I did a stint with them for a bit, they wanted advice on a traditional elven piece..." Saelhen leans in on her elbows. "Oh, she mangled it, but she compensated with charm and that one face. Her confident face, you know the one, where you think she's so confident that maybe it's supposed to sound like that?" Fish Especially: He laughs. "You do know my girl!" "She hasn't written in- I think a year, now. How's she been?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Oh, it's been so long, I'm barely an authority by now -- but I remember she was talking about taking classes in -- what was it..." "...oh, where are my manners -- I'm Saelhen du Fishercrown, it's a pleasure." Saelhen reaches out for a very unelven handshake.

That she says this is notable for one big reason: this is the first time she's used her real name, and not "Lady Noeru de la Surplus". Nobody else in the party has heard this before!

It's also notable because according to Fish Especially, Toothbrush thought Saelhen was dead- and he's going to let her know otherwise.

Anyway, the deal for rooms goes through without incident, and the night also goes without incident! As is entirely normal, they hear Vayen in the halls making some sort of attempt to sneak into Saelhen's room in the night... and this time, sighing and going "never mind" without even attempting to pick the lock for some reason.

In the morning... Looseleaf grills Saelhen on the name thing, and she confesses the truth of the matter to the whole party- who take it fairly well.

After team bonding, the party heads to the Temple of Andra to check in and see if the Deathseekers have showed up. And by the stablehand's account, they have- or at least, a bunch of weird old people showed up to meet with Gabbro.

Gabbro seems surprised to see them- he was under the impression that they'd leave the matter to them. The further involvement of the party should be unnecessary, right...?

Looseleaf: "Oh, yeah, I was going to let you know we were staying in town and ask for you to let us know when the deathseekers showed up, but, uh, judging by that meeting we interrupted, they're already back and right here." Gabbro: "That is correct," he says, as the stablehand leaves. "I was just briefing them on the mission, you see." "The situation is well in hand, so you needn't concern yourselves with it any longer." "That pesky dragon shouldn't be an issue." Looseleaf: "W-well, uh. I was, uh, we were, kiiiinda hoping to travel with you back to the dragon's tower." "I mean, it's our quest, so, it'd be nice to, for us to see it happening so we can be sure of it, y'know?" Gabbro: He looks somewhat taken aback. "That... seems... risky, don't you think?" "To bring along... certain... people?" Looseleaf: "We're going to stay very very far away from the action! We're not that dumb!" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...I assure you that we have no intention of fighting the dragon ourselves, sir." Gabbro: "Ah, yes, of course not..." "However..." He gives Looseleaf a pleading look. Saelhen du Fishercrown: "And there are... certain persons in the nearby town, whose safety I would like to check up on. Personally." Looseleaf: He doesn't seem to want people witnessing the fight? It could be explicable through just, him being worried we'll get hurt. But it could also be, 'their deathseekers fight with methods that Orluthe in particular should not be allowed to witness.' Gabbro: "Ah, well, if that's the case... if you don't mean to get involved with the Deathseekers and their work..." Looseleaf: "We're not going to- we don't want any claim to the loot in the tower either, if that's a problem! Everything in the tower is you and your group's prerogative to deal with however we like."

Gabbro seems... put slightly more at ease, and decides to introduce the group to the ones who'll be their traveling companions shortly- the Cauterdale Deathseekers.

In order:

Doon Softbreeze, half-halfling rogue and all-around Grunkle Stan-type, friendliest with the party.

Kevin Softbreeze, Doon's soft-spoken herbalist husband and that's it, probably, just a gardener.

John Human, an extremely decrepit extremely human man who seems to make weird buzzing sounds when he speaks, as if with mouthparts instead of human lips.

Ryuusatsu Takuma, totally silent elf (not present at this meeting with Gabbro) who probably just doesn't like talking, is all.

Lady Fidelia Greatholder, heavily-armored and heavily-everything human noblewoman (also not present at this meeting), who- well, she shows up next session.

Gabbro makes a point of making clear to those present that Orluthe, who they'll be traveling with, is a cleric of Diamode- apparently they need to know this for some reason!

Doon's pretty friendly with the party, and offers to take on their job pro-bono- on the basis that, c'mon, if they could actually afford them, they wouldn't be knocking on their door for help. So it looks like they've enlisted some highly-capable dragonslayers with no ulterior motives! Fantastic.

Next time: The road back to Barley, and the tying up of a few loose ends in town. Saelhen needs to get her kimono back!

[havenoffandoms]

Sweeter Than You (Eskel/Lambert, Modern AU)

Based on Kashimalin’s 50 Types of Kisses prompt list.

Prompt: "A kiss that tastes of the food/dessert they are eating."

Pairing: Eskel/Lambert

Content Warning: Modern AU (lawyer Lambert, baker Eskel), implied sexual content at the end of the chapter (nothing graphic)

Read on AO3.

Lambert has had the shittiest day at work. 

First, he got stuck in downtown Novigrad traffic even though his traffic app told him that the roads were all clear, which in turn made him late for his 9am meeting. Real professional, great first impression. His client was understanding about the situation, but Lambert hates being late, especially when he’s trying to score new clients for his firm. The meeting went well despite his tardiness, and Lambert is convinced he’ll get the case settled in no time, but his day just kept getting shittier and shittier. He ended up spilling hot coffee on his brand new suit and the only spare he kept at the office was slightly too snug when he put it on. Great, he apparently put on weight, too. That has to be Eskel’s fault, what with all the treats he bakes for Lambert at the weekend. 

If the day wasn’t bad enough, Lambert’s car broke down on his way to lunch with an important client. It took the tow-truck a whole hour to get to him, which meant that Lambert had to cancel on his client and lose out on a potential settlement agreement. To add insult to injury, the sandwich Lambert ended up buying from a nearby bakery tasted of ass. Though admittedly Lambert’s taste buds have considerably developed since he started dating Eskel, because the man is a literal genius in the kitchen. Lambert can’t eat generic sandwiches anymore without comparing them to Eskel’s creations. 

When the tow-truck finally showed up, Lambert decided to call time of death on this generally miserable day. He called his secretary and told her to clear his diary for the day, which he knew that Essi would pull off. She’s hands down the best secretary in the whole of Novigrad, in Lambert’s eyes anyway, and well worth the considerable salary he pays her each month. After calling Essi, Lambert hailed down a taxi only to find that he left his wallet in his car, which was now being towed away to the nearest garage. Great. Just fantastic. 

Fuck this shit, fuck his car, fuck his job, and fuck the entire universe. 

Lambert just starts walking without a clear destination in mind. His suit is too tight and uncomfortable, but he can’t bring himself to care as he tries to work off the anxious energy bubbling in his chest. He wants to scream, or punch something, whatever yields the most satisfaction. Why is the world against him today? What did he do to deserve this? Lambert considers dialling Eskel, but he knows that his boyfriend won’t be able to hear the phone if he’s at work.

Oh, wait a second. 

Lambert looks around for the first time since storming off and he quickly realises that he’s not actually too far away from Eskel’s shop. The thought brightens his mood a little - if Lambert’s not able to go home and hide away from the world, at least he can spend the afternoon helping his boyfriend out in the bakery. Or just wait until Eskel has a minute to spare so Lambert can hug out all his frustrations in the backroom… or do other things in Eskel’s office. With a renewed spring in his step, Lambert makes haste towards Eskel’s shop. 

It doesn't take long for him to reach Lil Titbits, a quaint-looking shop just off the main street of Novigrad's business centre. It doesn’t look like much from the outside, but Lambert knows just how hard Eskel worked to make the inside of his shop as inviting and cosy as humanly possible. As soon as Lambert steps inside the bakery, the heavenly smell of warm baked bread and freshly made coffee invades his nostrils. If he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend like he’s stepping inside his and Eskel’s home rather than his boyfriend’s shop. 

The little bell above the door chimes loudly, announcing his presence. Lambert instantly notices that the place is quiet - which is not unusual for a Wednesday afternoon, when most of Eskel’s customers are still either at work or at school. Lambert notices an elderly couple sitting in the booth by the window, enjoying a generous slice of lemon-meringue pie - oh fuck, Lambert loves Eskel’s lemon-meringue pies - between themselves. Lambert can’t fathom why anyone would share a slice of pie that good, especially since Eskel’s creations are by far the best fucking thing Lambert’s ever tasted. People are weird. 

Apart from those two customers, the place is empty. It doesn’t take long for Eskel to appear behind the counter, wearing his favourite apron, the one that reads “They Call Me Darth Baker” written in a white font on the black fabric. Geralt, Eskel’s brother, bought him that apron for Christmas, but Lambert never thought Eskel would actually wear it at work, for every customer to see, but that’s Eskel for you. He doesn’t give a flying fuck about what people think of him. Lambert has always admired that about him. 

“Hey babe,” Eskel greets him, his smile bright enough to rival the moon, stars, and the fucking sun.  The deep baritone of his boyfriend’s voice washes over Lambert in calming waves. “Bit early for you to be here. Everything alright?” 

Lambert’s legs move of their own volition, and before he knows it, he’s behind the counter burying himself in the warmth and safety of Eskel’s arms. “I am now,” he breathes, his tone just on that side of pouty, before rubbing his cheek against Eskel’s nerdy apron. He doesn’t give a shit if the customers at the back of the shop see them, nor does he care if he ends up with flour in his beard. He needs this, needs to feel Eskel close, because today’s been a shitty day and the only person who can make it better is his boyfriend. 

“Oh sweetheart, what’s up?” Eskel asks, his voice soft and reassuring like he’s talking to a spooked animal. Lambert only tightens his hold around Eskel, not ready to break the sweetness of the moment by reminiscing about his not-so-good-very-bad day. “Wanna move through to the kitchen?” 

That, in fact, sounds like a great fucking idea. Lambert almost whines when Eskel pulls away from him, but the urge quickly fades when Eskel laces their fingers together and drags Lambert through the back by the hand. Once they have regained a semblance of privacy, Lambert lets Eskel pull him into another soul-crushing hug. 

“I hate everything. And everyone. Well no, not everyone. I don’t hate you.”

“Mmh, good to know,” Eskel rumbles, sounding amused, “what happened, puppy?”

Lambert buries deeper in Eskel’s embrace as he replies, his words slightly muffled by the fabric of Eskel’s apron. 

“Got stuck in traffic this morning, then was late for my meeting, spilt coffee on my suit, my car broke down, I missed lunch with a potential client who’s worth a buttload of money, and I’m getting fat,” Lambert ends, his tone decidedly whiny when he’s reminded of just how snug his emergency suit feels. Damn Eskel and his ridiculously good treats. 

“Naw, hell Lamb,” Eskel shifts and grabs something resting on the working surface behind him. When Lambert looks up, he sees Eskel holding what looks to be a lemon and white chocolate muffin inches away from Lambert’s face. “Open up! My baking always cheers you up.” 

“Your baking is the reason why I’m getting fat!” Lambert grouses half-heartedly, his tongue poking out from between his lips to lick at the buttercream frosting covering the top of the muffin. “Mmmh, white chocolate! I knew it.” 

“Was gonna save it for you to celebrate your new client. Guess it can also be used as a consolatory muffin,” Eskel brings the treat closer to Lambert’s lips and offers a small, encouraging smile, “c’mon, take a bite. I promise you’ll feel better.” 

Lambert can’t resist Eskel’s pretty eyes anyway, so he happily lets his boyfriend feed him the muffin. Lambert takes a huge chunk out, the white chocolate and lemon flavours exploding on his tongue pulling an appreciative moan. Lambert’s eyes flutter shut as he savours his morsel, and when he opens them again, he sees Eskel’s smile has widened into a pleased grin. 

“Good?” he asks, like there’s any fucking doubt about how good his muffin tastes. 

“As always,” Lambert whispers in response, snatching the muffin out of Eskel’s hand and stuffing what’s left of it in his mouth. Eskel levels him with an unimpressed look, clicking his tongue in disapproval at his boyfriend’s actions. 

“You’re gonna choke one of these days,” Eskel tells him, trying not to laugh as Lambert tries to chew around the massive bite in his mouth, “look at your lil hamster cheeks. Adorable.” 

Lambert glares - the full effect of his scowl is probably lost on Eskel, though, with how Lambert is still struggling to swallow his treat - but the intention is there. Eskel shakes his head fondly before leaning in and catching Lambert’s lips in a chaste kiss which probably tastes sweet and lemony, but Eskel doesn’t seem to mind the taste of his dessert on Lambert’s lips. It takes Lambert a little while to swallow the food in his mouth, but when he does, he puckers his lips in a silent request for more of Eskel’s sweet kisses. 

“Yes?” Eskel teases, raising one eyebrow, “can I help you?” 

Lambert’s lower lip juts out into a sad pout at those words, an action that pulls a warm chuckle from deep within Eskel’s chest. He takes pity on Lambert and pulls him impossibly closer to his firm body, rubbing his nose against Lambert’s in a tender gesture. Lambert’s hands come to rest on Eskel’s hips, where he squeezes the soft flesh of his boyfriend’s puppy fat. Gods, but he loves absolutely everything about Eskel. 

“Can you close the shop early today and take me home?” Lambert asks, voice barely above a whisper, as he stretches up to capture Eskel’s mouth in a demanding kiss that leaves very little as to which kind of activity Lambert has in mind for their evening together. His hand squeezes Eskel’s hip more firmly, pulling a needy whine from his boyfriend in response.

“Minx,” Eskel growls under his breath, punctuating his statement with a final kiss, “I’ll see what I can do.”

As Eskel walks away, Lambert doesn’t miss the way his boyfriend has to readjust his pants which are now tenting at the front. Lambert leans back against the worktop of Eskel’s baking table, and first undoes the buttons of his suit jacket, then the top three buttons of his shirt. He, unlike Eskel, isn’t trying to hide the visible bulge forming in his far too tight pants, dammit. 

“You do what you have to do, sweetheart,” Lambert speaks in a sultry tone, the irritation brought on by a rather shitty start to the day long forgotten when he meets Eskel’s lust-blown eyes, “I’ll be right here, looking like a goddamn snack for you the whole time.” 

Eskel curses under his breath, pointedly looking away from Lambert. 

“Bastard. You just wait until we get home,” Eskel threatens half-heartedly before leaving the kitchen to empty the showcases and store the pastries in the refrigerators on the main shop floor. Lambert feels positively giddy with anticipation at the thought of how him and Eskel will spend the rest of the evening. 

Lambert’s day, in spite of everything, doesn’t seem so shitty in the end, not when he’s got Eskel to come home to. 

[soyouareandrewdobson]

The biggest post yet: Analyzing a multipage story

Before I begin, I like to thank every follower so far and the ones who helped me over the course of the last weeks to build this tumblr up. This is for you and in a way the first test run for future, hopefully more elaborate reviews of Dobson’s comics. Hope you enjoy it and learn something.

Without further ado, ladys, gentlemen and the colorful rianbow inbetween, I present the unpublished “So you are a cartoonist?” story about the King of Queens trying to become a comic artist

Okay, this is not quite right. What is going to happen is as followed:

A few years ago Dobson released via his patreon the unpublished sketches of a multipage comic story about the struggles of a webcomic artist by the name of Kevin James, with no relation to the famous comedian who as of recently is also playing a neo nazi in a supposedly pretty damn good home invasion movie.

What I want to do is now go through this comic and point out some of the flaws in the writing/progression, okay? Cause honestly, this is not going to be the worst thing Dobson ever published. But it unfortunately has more than a few little hiccups that show Dobson’s flaws when it comes to creating a story.

So off to the next pages

Now as you can see, it is pretty obvious that the story is heading into a direction where Kevin seems to be a down on his luck creator. Having to work at the blandest named Burger Joint since Good Burger, with discount Doctor Wily as his manager and getting pretty little money into his account. Seriously, only 206 $ plus? I don’t know much about minimum wage in the states, but are you really getting that little even after taxes have been accounted for? Or is it likely Kevin is pretty deep into the reds and his deposit was even putting it into the plus again. If so… yaiks.

And now we are getting into the pages where a few slight problems may show up, depending on your own interpretation of things.

 See, in my opinion it is obvious that we are meant to feel sorry for Kevin, cause he lost his minimum wage job now for simply being late. Something that can happen to all of us. And yeah, losing your job when you have not really much in the bank, that sucks. So I would wish for the character to get at least a new job soon. However, we also need to acknowledge that the manager is not in the wrong here. After all, Kevin supposedly has shown up late for work for some time and his excuse that he was late because he had to work on his comic is not reasonable. For a lack of a better word, making this comic is just his hobby, not his job. His job is to make burgers and sell them, because the manager of the burger joint is paying him for that. So excuse me if my sympathy is not that much with him

Not really much to say here. I just want to point out two things: One, the countdown that showed up also in previous pages and goes further down the longer we get into the story, two that it actually may be a good thing that Dobson has not drawn the copy shop employee in more detail. Cause one thing I came to realize over time with Dobson is, that often times his sketches have more of a softness to them than the final product, where e.g. faces are more harsher and frankly, uglier than they need to be, in addition to being a bit oversaturated thanks to the colors. And with Dobson’s tendency to make also angry faces genuinely spiteful, I wonder if the copy shop owner would have come off in the final product as more “strawman mean” than necessary. Cause it is very obvious that “poor Kevin” seems to suffer from the indifferences of his environment.

 One month since he was fired and one more month till we are in the present and he loses his electricity cause he has not paid his bills. And this is where I slightly start to lose my sympathy with the character. Again, it is obvious that the story wants us to feel bad for Kevin because he is down on his luck although all he wants to do is just create his comic.

But at the same time, only halfway through the comic I have to ask, how much of his shitty situation is not just him doing nothing against it?

I mean, he has obvious money issues, he can’t pay the electricity bill and he has been fired a month ago. Shouldn’t he at this point not have attempted yet to get a replacement job? Or ask for unemployment support? Do commission work for fans in exchange for money?

I am just saying, his woes become a bit less relatable if he does not really attempt to at least try and fix the situation.

And unfortunately, this development continues still

 Gesh, this comic is really old when Kevin still owns a flip phone…

Also, I need to give his mom credit. 500$ send to her son so that he can pay his debts off and live well enough for a few days. Sorry, but 500$ is actually enough for me to live for a month and pay my groceries and major bills if I am careful enough. Lets hope Kevin is the same and that he looks out for a job

 … nope, he does not look for a job. Two weeks after he got the money he still does not have a job to support himself and assure he has a roof over his head. In fact, he likely loses more money than he necessarily needs to by going to a diner.

Look, unlike other characters created by Dobson, I really do not hate Kevin. Primarily because he does not show any of the despicable or idiotic traits other characters by him do. But Kevin is not doing anything to improve his situation, period. And that is not really how you should write “down on their luck” characters, cause that doesn’t really make them sympathetic. The sympathy a reader gives those characters stems primarily from the fact, that though they really try their best, fate is not working into their favor for different reasons beyond their control. But here the problem is, that Kevin has to a certain degree control over his situation. He can decide what he wants to do with the money, he can decide to either do or not do anything to improve his situation at least slightly. And he doesn’t do anything.  

Dear lord, Kevin is essentially Dobson when it comes to the laters overall situation and how he does little to improve anything when he is stuck.

Then there is also the entire thing about the waitress calling Kevin’s work amazing. For starters, I kinda doubt that that in our modern day society and work environment her acting like that in front of a customer, even if the customer does not mind, would fly with her employer. After all, professionalism and all that. Next, her praise feels shallow. The typical cardboard speech praise checkmark lines you can give to any piece of work, that don’t really mean anything if you do not elaborate on what it really is you find amazing about the characters in terms of personality or what it is about the story that hits home (e.g. can you realte to the characters, are you genuinely thinking the story is funny etc)

In fact, what even is Kevin’s comic?

 I get that his work is not the center stage of this story, but think about it: we are supposed to think that Kevin is talented and that he needs his lucky break. But would his work even justify success and admiration? All we know is that the comic features a character called Kat (not really an original name) who for a lack of a better word and based on the sketch outline may just be the bastard offspring of Bubsy and Talus from Alex ze Pirate. And that is it. For all I know, and taking for shit and giggles a made up meta narrative into account, his work may actually be on the same level as Alex ze Pirate itself. And if that is the case, let me just fill out an application as janitor for Kevin right now. If he is lucky he can make around 1000 dollars a month soon.

 This right here is actually a prime example of a common problem in Dobson’s longer story: Him breaking the old rule of “show, don’t tell”. The narrative tells us e.g. via the words of the waitress and the fact he has fans, that Kevin is a good cartoonist. But we do not see it for ourselves. And I am not suggesting here Dobson should draw 20 additional pages of Kevin’s creations and comics, because that would be freaking overkill. But imagine if this comic started off with the first page being part of a a very fantastic fight scene or story. Something rich in color and characters. Only for it to be revealed in the next page to be actually NOT the story we are supposed to read, but something Kevin creates right now. By doing so Dobson could not only show for the actual main story that Kevin is justified in having success, Dobson could have also shown for himself how he can be imaginative. How he can toy with tropes and expectations, while also creating something “new” out of nowhere just for fun. But that is not what we got. And all we have now are four more pages.

 Again, ONE MORE WEEK passed and he still did not get a job. And in fact, he is also overdue on his rent and wants to ask his mother AGAIN for money.

Dude… I am all out of sympathy. Sell your freaking kidney for all I care, offer your landlord oral sex or that you are going to do work around the house for him, just try to do something except beg mother to help you out again. Especially as she has already send you 500 dollar. What have you done with that money anyway? Did most of it get spend on your electric bill? If so, how huge was it? And did you fail to pay rent for a couple of months now that even your landlord is having enough? I ask the later in part because I genuinely do not know how fast a landlord can vacate you in the US. See, where I live you can get vacated too when you don’t pay up, but most landlords are by law forced to at least let you stay for a few more weeks till you either find a way to pay up or another place to live. Forceful removal of a tenant can mostly only happen if the person causes severe damage to the apartment or is facing criminal charges.

 So NOW you are looking for a job. Good luck getting 700 dollars in three days though. I can’t imagine that even if you get hired, that anyone will pay up that amount of money upfront to help you. Again, do you have no other options, Kevin? Also, for how long was that sign up there? How often have you gone by that diner? Also dear lord, the waitress really is not the smartest if she thinks being a webcomic artist pays all the bills

 So if the manager has already found someone, even if it was “just” now, why was the “now hiring” sign even still in the window? And he assumes there are even more bills? Kevin… do you have a genuine problem when it comes to handling finances? Would you do better, if you only get an allowance? Just one more page. And with it my biggest complains

And so our comic ends with all the build up of how down on his luck Kevin is, being essentially pointless, because at the end of the day he is still lucky and all his problems get resolved not by his own doing but by deus ex machina.

Okay, this is not entirely accurate.

After all, Kevin DID create this comic. He wrote it, he drew it, he send the script to multiple publishers, he got rejected multiple times and now he is also going to finally get recognition for it all. You can say he worked to get his foot into the industry. The problem is, that none of that work is really shown in the story presented to us. We do not see him work on the script, potentially rewrite or fix up mistakes, get the impression that even with the bad situation he is in, he still wants at the very least this passion project to succeed. All we know is he worked on something and now because it is convenient for the story, his misfortune is going to end and he gets a happy end that is way too convenient for my taste.

Look, I know nothing about how publishers work. If someone reads this and has genuine experience in how publishers approach you if they are interested in your work and how much money you can really make through it, you are free to tell me what you know or have experienced directly or indirectly. Cause frankly, I find it hard to believe that any publisher would immediately do the thing Kevin now experiences here. First off, why would they not attempt to call him or get into a more convenient contact with him than the mail? Second, advanced payment? Shouldn’t you at least try to handle out basic deals before you send him a paycheck over?

I get it is supposed to be a happy end for Kevin here, but honestly, with the way how even if people are getting published, success may not be immediate or not to a degree Dobson actually hopes for. Sorry, but I am also just jaded enough as a person to know that even otherwise acclaimed work does take time to really hit a certain level of popularity. Luke Pearson e.g., wrote and drew the first volume of the comic series Hilda in 2010, just a few months after he finished college. The comic was a success and resulted in him publishing up to four more books till 2016. But only with his comic being adapted into a Netflix series in 2018 did he also get recognition outside of Great Britain, from which he is likely going to make enough money to have a comfortable life for the next couple of years. Mind you, I said comfortable, not “luxurious”. Cause this is actually one thing I fear with Dobson to a degree: That he thinks that being a successful comic creator equals also becoming stinking rich. Cause as far as I know, this is not really the case for many comic creators around the world. But I digress.

This post is not about the potential delusions of Dobson when it comes to how much of a fortune he could make through a successful publication, this post is about judging a SYAC story that got never published.

And frankly, the story of Kevin James… I don’t hate it. Honestly, I think there is potential for a decent, even longer story about a webcomic artist trying to get his big break. The problem is, this is not a story about the challenges Kevin faces in creating his comic. This is not the story about someone being determined to get his work out, even if he struggles in real life. This is not the story of someone facing and dealing with his real life struggles in a mature way, making the happy end all the more feel rightfully earned. This is a story where honestly there would be no drama at all (or at least less drama), if Kevin even attempted to do something halfway logical most other people in real life would do, if they found themselves in his situation (like looking for a job, trying to work commissions etc.) . And a drama where the dramatic event would not happen if some basic logic even a kid can think off would be applied, is at least for me not really a drama.

So yeah, it is not the worst thing by Dobson, but it is very flawed to say the least.

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

Social Media AU - Social Killing (Part 24)

We’ll be taking a little closer look at the show itself next time...and we’ll see just how Richie’s performance is recieved by the fans 👀

I know the writing for the interview is small, so I’ve put the transcript below just in case anyone needs it!

Also, yes, I am in fact a giant moron who wrote that Social Killing was a weekend-show, and have only now realized that in the interview, it says “Wednesday night” because I wrote it like a month back and forgot I put that. Please pretend that the publication in charge of the interview got the wrong day, and that it is in fact Sunday nights!

----------

Our correspondent, Vincent Lewis, sat down with the main cast of the upcoming Hulu drama “Social Killing” this afternoon to learn more about the show, as well as what drew the cast to the project and what it was like to work together.

Vince: Hello, it’s wonderful to meet you all.

Riley Andersen: Aww, it’s nice to meet you too!

Vince: I can imagine it’s been a long day of press and interviews for you all.

Richie Tozier: Too long.

Jay B: It’s been insane to be honest. It’s unlike anything any of us have ever seen, I think.

Evan Harrison: Yeah, but it’s been fun too, in a weird way.

Vince: I’ll get right to it then. First of all, congratulations to all of you on the show, it’s been receiving rave reviews all around, and it looks like it’s set to be a hit.

Jay: Thanks.

Vince: So, can you tell us a little bit about the characters you four play? No spoilers necessary, just the basic so we know who’s who!

(All four look at each other and laugh)

Richie: I mean…

Evan: Ladies first!

Riley: (laughing) Geez, you guys are mean! Okay, so I play Hailey and she’s a cheerleader at Blackwood High, where the series is set, and she’s...complicated. She isn’t the stereotypical mean cheerleader you usually see in television shows, but she’s definitely not above doing what it takes for her to stay on top.

Vince: Interesting! Gentlemen…?

Evan: Okay, so I play Blake, who’s this kind of preppy, snobbish guy who went to boarding school but has transferred to Blackwood for unknown reasons. He knows pretty much all the town’s secrets since he comes from a rich family and so he kind of has his links everywhere in town.

Jay: I play Sean, who’s this beloved teacher at the school - all the students love him since he’s not stuffy or uptight. He’s kinda the cool English teacher who’s probably smoked a spliff with all his students at some point. But he has a double life that no one knows about, and he wants it to stay that way because he’s seeking justice for something that’s happened to him in the past few years.

Richie:...Oh shit, me. I play a guy called Ted, and he’s brand new to town because he’s looking for a new start after something super tragic happened in his past. So he takes the drama teacher position that just opened up, and he starts to realize that something is kind of off about the town - which, you know, is kinda understatement of the fucking century!

Vince: So everyone’s got a secret then…

Riley: Basically none of us can be trusted, that’s what you should know.

Vince: Now obviously, Jay, you’ve been working pretty consistently in the business since you were young - you would do Canadian kids DIY shows and Québécois dubbing, is that correct?

Jay: Yeah. God, how fucking lame is that?

Vince: No, no, I used to love watching those Canadian kids shows! But since becoming an adult, you’ve done all sorts - comedy, obviously, drama, horror, animation...so what led you to “Social Killing”?

Jay: Well, I mean, my agent sent me a script and I was like ‘holy shit this could be good’; then I saw that Richie fucking Tozier was getting involved and I was like ‘okay, drop everything, I have GOT to do this damn show now’.

Vince: Did you two know each other before doing the show?

Richie: I mean, kinda. He came backstage at some of my shows a few times, and I was like ‘this guy is fucking awesome’. He’s Canadian, so that’s why.

Jay: I’m a very proud Canadian, yeah. Sorry, America, but Canada is the greatest country in the world.

Riley: America sucks right now, so don’t apologize.

Jay: But yeah, I’ve always wanted the chance to work with Richie on something since he’s one of my favourite comedians, so this was a huge opportunity for me.

Richie: And then he actually met me properly and regretted that shit.

(All of them crack up laughing)

Vince: As I understand it, Riley, you’re not entirely new to the world of show business either, because before joining the show you were a dancer.

Richie: Wait, what??

Riley: Yeah, I was. I was a professional dancer.

Jay: Jesus Christ.

Richie: A fucking PROFESSIONAL dancer?!

Riley: Oh come on, you guys knew I was a dancer!

Richie: Not professionally! I thought you just did it for a hobby, not as an actual job!

Riley: Anyway...I danced back-up for a few people, did some background dance work on movies and shows, but this is my first time acting.

Evan: And she’s incredible at it. It’s amazing.

Vince: As I understand it, Evan, you’re also brand new?

Evan: Well, this is my first big role. I did some theatre for a few years, played some gigs at bars to get by, but this is what I really want to be doing. I was so excited when I got cast that I nearly started crying - it’s a dream come true.

Riley: Aww.

Vince: Finally, Richie… You’re a fantastic stand-up comedian, I love your work, but this is your first time acting in anything. What made you want to transition from stand up to television, especially now?

Richie: Woah, yeah, I mean...yeah. (laughs) Honestly, I wanted to do something new. A lot of stuff has changed in the last few years, mostly the content of my stand-up, and I want to distance myself from that old shit as much as possible. And, you know, I’m married now, we’re expecting our first kid soon, so it’s all super serious and shit.

Vince: Congratulations!

Richie: Yeah, thanks! So with the show, I wanted to just...show that I could do it, I guess. Show I was more than just some shitty comedian doing misogynistic jokes that weren’t true. The writers approached me originally since they wanted some humor in the show, but...I guess they liked the other stuff I did once I was on-set.

Riley: Just for the record, I like your new stuff better.

Jay: Oh yeah, for real.

Evan: I still remember seeing the comeback show, first time you did your own material, and I was so blown away. Not just the actual material, but the way you performed and talked about your friends on-stage...it was amazing.

Richie: Thanks, man.

Vince: So, what was it like for the four of you to work together? Were there any scenes where all four of you were present?

Jay: Oh, man…

Evan: (mock dying) Spoilers. Can’t. Give. Them. Away.

Richie: Yeah, you can't see it, but in the building across the road there’s a Hulu representative with a sniper ready to take us out if they think we’ll fuck up.

Vince: Alright, alright, I get it! But what was it like working together? Fun?

Riley: Oh yeah. Definitely. These three guys are super funny and great to work with, you know? Evan would sing songs on set between takes, and we’d all have little impromptu karaoke sessions. Jay is just...really sweet but funny, he keeps quiet sometimes but he genuinely is really fun to be around; he goes nuts about hockey. Richie kept us all laughing, of course, even when we had to shoot more challenging scenes - without giving too much about the show away, there were times where we would be filming, and we’d all be feeling down or tired, and it was really hard. But Richie would keep our spirits up by making jokes, and making sure we were all hanging in there.

Evan: Yeah, Richie’s the best.

Riley: He’s a talented actor too, which is nice to work with.

Jay: Aww jeez, Riley…

Richie: You’re making us sound awesome, and we look like assholes just sitting here nodding.

Evan: To be honest, I worked more with Riley than anyone else and she really undersells herself.

Richie: Yeah. She’s actually super funny - I mean, she’s great on the show but she pulls off comedy pretty well too. I think she’d do pretty well on a comedy show or something. You know, if the show doesn’t work out. (Winks)

Riley: Coming from Trashmouth Tozier, that’s like...the most wonderful thing someone has ever said to me. Oh my god.

Vince: Well, I was going to ask what it was like, being surrounded by all male leads - obviously there are females too, but you four are the focus, and you’re the only woman.

Riley: (laughing) Shh, I don’t think- I don’t think they’ve realized I’m not a guy yet! Don’t tell them!

Jay: Nah, she’s one of the guys clearly!

Richie: Wait, you’re a WOMAN? My life has been a lie, Riley Andersen!

Riley: The blonde ponytail and cheerleading skirt didn’t give it away then.

Richie: It’s 2018, anything can happen. I’d wear a cheerleading skirt. I’m sure my husband would be up for that.

Evan: I am very jealous that Riley got to wear the skirt and I didn’t. It would have made my ass look fantastic.

Jay: I’m not sure if my fiancée would be amused or terrified by me in a cheerleading outfit. I’m like 110lbs soaking wet, so fuck knows what I’d look like.

Riley: (throwing her arms around him) Jay, no, you’d look great! Be more confident in yourself!

Richie: (in a Canadian accent) It’s his Canadian modesty, eh?

Jay: (laughing) Fuck off.

Richie: (still-Canadian-accent) Still mad you left your tuque in the washroom, eh?

Evan: Oh god.

Vince: On that note...thank you so much for meeting with me. Good luck with the show!

“Social Killing” starts 9pm on Wednesday night on Hulu.

[lassieposting]

Tell us about Lucifer’s depression, suicidal ideation, self-harm, and past abuse. I mean I can see the self harm, both the obvious In cutting off his wings and the like as well as the unhealthy self medicating, and the abuse - which honestly comes across as a murky gray area, like some verges on abuse but isn’t quite- but the other things... I need them pointed out to me.

GLADLY, ANON

okay so, to cover my ass: this is just my personal take as someone with trauma & suicidal ideation who self-harms. other people with different trauma and different relationships with self-harm/suicidal ideation might see this whole thing completely differently. This post could be triggering, please pay attention to the triggers in the tags. I am not a professional psychiatrist, and if you are struggling please seek professional help. 

i’m gonna break this down into sections bc, surprise surprise, it got rly long

THE ABUSE:

Now, you’re absolutely right that this is kind of a murky grey area, because at this point we really only have one side of the story: Lucifer’s. And obviously, he’s biased. 

the family dynamics:

But let’s take a look at the family dynamics we see in-show. We’ve only seen a fraction of Lucifer’s family, but it’s still fairly obvious that the ways they interact with one another are unhealthy and tend towards abusive, especially when aimed at Lucifer. 

We have Amenadiel, who: 

Is obedient to his Dad on an almost brainwashed level until he falls. 

Blames everything - including his own actions/failures (i.e. saying Malcolm killing humans is Lucifer’s fault, even though Amenadiel himself raised Malcolm from Hell) on Lucifer.

Does not know how to respond to affection or praise, even though he clearly appreciates and enjoys them (i.e. when Trixie hugs him and says she thinks he’s good). This is the son who’s in God’s good books. And he still clearly doesn’t receive affection or praise often. 

Openly competes with Lucifer for Dad’s attention/love, to the point of rubbing it in his face when he discovers he’s the favourite

Is complicit in Lucifer’s abuse - taking him back to Hell (thereby isolating him), threatening him when he doesn’t want to go, and cutting off any attempt Lucifer makes at reaching out to connect with humanity - for billions of years to try and win his Dad’s approval. 

Straight up tries to have Lucifer killed.

Says he’d love to go to war (with Lucifer, and presumably with Hell as a whole). 

We have Uriel, who:

Takes it upon himself to enforce what he believes is his Dad’s will; he had no instructions from God when he came to Earth. 

Delights in getting the opportunity to beat up Amenadiel, and gloats about it. 

Threatens - and harms - the first good thing Lucifer has had in his life in eons as a way of bullying him into doing what Uriel wants.

When Lucifer complies, Uriel decides to kill both Goddess and Chloe, purely out of spite because Lucifer was “being difficult”.

(There is an interesting meta here on Uriel’s potential motivations that I really like, but this is looking purely at his actions.)

And we have Goddess, their mother, easily the most manipulative and emotionally abusive of the lot. She:

Admits to destroying things God cared about - attacking humanity with plagues and floods etc - out of malice and to get his attention. 

Happily releases Azrael’s blade into human hands, hoping for widespread human deaths, to get her ex to get back in touch. 

Plays Lucifer and Amenadiel off against one another like a pro for her approval. 

Only ever touches her children when she’s trying to manipulate them - there’s a good meta on that here. The one exception to this that I personally believe to be a genuine attempt to comfort (both him and herself) is when she hugs Lucifer after he’s just killed Uriel. 

Doesn’t actually care about what Lucifer wants - he’s told her outright that Earth is the only place where he feels wanted and respected, and she knows he has a life he enjoys and a woman he’s falling in love with, but she expects him to abandon Earth and go back to the Silver City with her regardless - to the point that she actively tries to dismantle his human life and kill his loved ones to leave him with no ties to Earth. 

The picture this paints to me is of two incredibly narcissistic parents who see their children as extensions of themselves rather than as people in their own right. If you compare Lucifer - who’s an asshole, but fundamentally a good man - to his siblings here, you can see that the two who stayed in Heaven have caught fleas from their parents - and part of Amenadiel’s redemption arc is him realising how toxic and damaging his family is, giving himself a damn good flea bath, and doing his best to be a better big brother to Lucifer and a better son to his mom (and, later, a better father to Charlie than his Dad was to him). 

angel life cycle

So apparently in canon, angels were created as adults. My personal headcanon is fuck that, baby angels, but we’ll go with the canon explanation for this, because honestly it still lines up with my theory. 

Even if you’re “born” with a mature adult body and adult-level speech ability etc, you still won’t have an adult’s wealth of life experience, or maturity, or social skills. You’re still going to have to grow and learn and experience situations to learn how to cope with them. 

Now, Tom Ellis has said in the past that he plays Lucifer as essentially having the emotional maturity level of a teenager, which I think is honestly perfect. For an immortal being - or at least a being with a lifespan of many, many billions of years - it’s actually fairly believable that the angels are (depending on the age gap between them) either still in the “adolescent” life stage or emerging into the “young adult” one. 

Lucifer says that he’s spent “most of his life” in Hell. If he’s only a young adult now, at ~11 billion years old, that means he’d have been a juvenile (in terms of life experience/emotional development, even if he was “born” with a fully mature adult body) when he was sent to Hell, and the reason he was sent to Hell is because he wanted free will and started “acting out”. 

Even if your 12-year-old is the most unpleasant, rebellious little shithead on the planet, you don’t kick him out of the house and spent the next decade sabotaging every attempt he makes to connect with people or improve his life. Because, you know. That’s your kid. You signed up to have him, that’s normal shitty teenager behaviour, and the chances are he’ll improve with age. God and Goddess went scorched earth on Lucifer because he was behaving in a completely normal way for a kid beginning to mature into a grownup. 

lasting trauma

Lucifer’s parents’ treatment has left some crazy deep scars. 

He uses a neglectful broken home as an analogy for his celestial family. And he does so incredibly smoothly; this is clearly an analogy he’s thought about before. Chances are he’s seen this dynamic on TV and identified very strongly with it. 

He talks about his mother abandoning him as his “lowest point”.  Not his Fall. Not any of the horrific things he’s seen in Hell. The point where he realised his mom doesn’t love him enough to protect him. 

He doesn’t understand what he did wrong. God punished Lucifer harshly for wanting to control his own life, because narcs often see their children’s developing independence as a threat to their own control over their kids’ lives. Obviously He wouldn’t see it like that, but he’s clearly never explained to Lucifer why what he did was “wrong”. This family has a chronic communication problem. 

He’s paranoid as fuck. He constantly suspects God of having a hand in the events happening around him, and any time it seems He is involved, Lucifer immediately sees whatever’s happening as an attempted manipulation. It never occurs to him that creating Chloe - someone immune to his powers who can really love him without any kind of supernatural influence - could be an olive branch or an attempt to give him what he actually needs. He doesn’t believe his Dad would ever do something positive to/for him. 

He’s so badly traumatized by his childhood that he reacts like this to being called by the name his Dad gave him. And he’s clearly doing well in therapy - he might not know the word for it, but he knows he’s being (unintentionally) gaslit here. He doesn’t handle it well, but he doesn’t put up with it either, refuses to accept being told to see his Dad’s abuse as a sign of love. 

He believes he’s unloveable. When Linda gently suggests that maybe Chloe kissed him purely because she likes him, he tells her that’s impossible and reminds her his powers don’t work on Chloe. He doesn’t think there’s any way someone could love him for who he is, unless he’s either giving them something or using his mojo on them. And it’s his family that’s conditioned him to think that way - look at Amenadiel alone, how many times he tells Lucifer he’s evil throughout the show, as casually as if he were telling him that his hair is brown. This is just a fact of the universe in that family: water is wet, leaves are green, Lucifer is irredeemable garbage. 

He doesn’t for a second hesitate to believe that his Dad wanted to kill him. Or that he would kill him given the opportunity. He even thinks Chloe is his dad’s attempt to get him killed for a bit. 

THE SELF HARM

the wings: 

The blatantly obvious one - and the most deliberate - is when he cuts off his wings. Now when Lucifer talks about this, he frames it as him taking back agency over his own life, freeing himself from his Father’s control, and making a statement about his intention to stay on Earth. 

But when you look at him, he doesn’t look victorious, or like he’s looking forward to starting a new life. Physical pain aside - and an amateur amputation would be agonizing - he looks almost like he’s grieving, gritting his teeth through something he feels he has no choice but to do. 

Someone did a fantastic meta that I thought I’d reblogged at some point that says something like “this isn’t the devil in his moment of triumph against god; this is an abused boy mutilating himself to spite his father”. I wanted to link it, but I haven’t been able to find it again (if anyone finds it, please let me know so I can add a link).  

the self-medicating:

I don’t think he realises this is a form of self-harm, and I don’t think he does it to hurt himself deliberately. But he comes to Earth to overindulge in all the things he can’t have in Hell, all the things he’s been cut off from. 

Touch and affection, which he gets through sex. Oblivion, which he gets by drinking. Euphoria, which he gets from drugs. Socialisation, which he gets from being surrounded by people at all times and partying it up 24/7.

It doesn’t matter to him that the touch is from a stranger, it doesn’t matter that the affection only lasts one night, it’s something and that’s more than he’s getting in Hell. He buries himself in those things to forget that he has to go back. He can bury himself in the next line or the next shot or the next attractive body and, just for a little bit, he can forget who he is.

Sending Lucifer to Hell in and of itself is cruel. Angels are clearly social creatures, and he’s been in solitary isolation for billions of years - it’s a miracle he hasn’t gone insane. Yes, he has the demons, but they don’t interact with him by choice and he’s not safe with them. Hell denies Lucifer everything a young person needs to grow into a stable, healthy adult. 

the self-sabotage:

We also see that he’s got a tendency to sabotage himself when he’s on a downward spiral. This usually comes out one of two ways - either:  

He tries to chase away the people who care about him. This comes from being so terrified of being abandoned and rejected again that he’d rather run them off himself than wait for them to inevitably (in his mind) decide that he’s Not Worth It and leave him. For example: 

He tries to push Linda away when he’s grieving after killing Uriel. 

He punches Dan in the face and gets himself thrown off the case by Chloe - she’s already warned him she would bench him if he didn’t pull himself together. 

He throws Chloe’s initial rejection in her face when he’s on his self-hatred bender in S4. 

He’s absolutely vicious to Amenadiel in this scene, when Amenadiel is trying to communicate that he loves Luci and wants to support him. 

Or he talks shit about himself. You can always tell when he’s having a bad time; he’ll start coming out with shit like, “I’m the devil, remember, I’m evil.” His real view of himself will slip out from under the mask of confidence and vanity. Chloe cuts right to the heart of this in S4; he’s been told so many times that he’s responsible for all evil that he now believes it. He blames himself, even as he vehemently denies having ever made anyone do anything. 

THE SUICIDAL IDEATION:

Jesus fuck, it’s a good thing Lucifer is in therapy. 

The first time we see him actively attempt suicide is in 1x13 when he’s being framed for shooting the street preacher. It’s a case of “the straw that broke the camel’s back” here - he’s been having a really rough time lately:

Groups of zealots are cornering him in the street accusing him of murders he didn’t commit 

Being accused of things he didn’t do is already a trigger for him

His own brother tried to have him assassinated.

His bodyguard and oldest friend betrayed him.

He’s just found out the detective makes him vulnerable. 

He knows Dan - and therefore probably other work colleagues as well - think he’s got something to do with the satanic murders. 

And now Chloe is turning her gun - and apparently her back - on him. She’s no different from anyone else. He was stupid to ever trust her, etc, etc, and now he’s spiralling.

She was the last rock keeping his head above the ocean at this point, and when she goes to arrest him, he goes under. We see that mania come out very quickly; he starts laughing hysterically and tries to goad an inexperienced uni into shooting him. He pretends to have a gun, knowing the cop will fear for his life and instinctively shoot. Since Chloe’s right there at the time, and he now knows he can be hurt around her, that’s attempted suicide. He wants to die. He even admits to Amenadiel he was trying to achieve “a good death…or at least a nice and messy one.”

No one ever addresses this bloody hell why

And then there’s the case with the shooter in the hospital. Lucifer’s grieving Uriel at this point, and he’s up to his eyeballs in self-loathing. He killed his brother. He really is the monster everyone believes he is. He’s spent the entire episode up to this point trying to make people punish him. He’s riled up Chloe at a crime scene and she’s told him off. He’s punched Dan, and Dan didn’t retaliate. He turned down Linda’s offer of continued therapy in a way that’s almost a challenge; he wants her to snap back at him. And when none of these little punishments are enough for him, he escalates and escalates and eventually he steps in front of the sniper’s intended victim and, again, goads him to shoot. He goes a bit further this time, though; he outright begs the sniper to shoot him, and reams the guy out when he says he didn’t think Lucifer deserved it. 

Again, he knows Chloe is there. This is a suicide attempt. He even admits to Chloe that he didn’t care about the intended victim, he was just trying to get himself killed. She doesn’t believe him. And it’s never addressed again, and I’m salty. 

Anyway I hope this clarifies some stuff for you anon? and I’m sorry it took so long to finish I rewrote this so many times for Maximum Sensitivity and kept including stuff and taking stuff out and it got SO LONG and i had to condense it and i have A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT THIS OKAY I HAD A LOT TO SAY

[zwiezraczek]

Criminal - Chapter 2

Billy (viliain) x Female reader (cop)

Prologue/Chapter 1 - CHAPTER 2:  He is a loser, he's a bum CHAPTER 3

SUMMARY: You always wanted to become a police officer. And you became one of them, brilliantly and they offered you your first case. “The Ghosts” case. The case of fleeting people and one sneaky bastard parkouring around the town to annoy you. You swore to yourself to catch him them.

WORDS: 2 k

NOTE: So here we are with chapter 2! I’ll try to upload a new chapter every Thrusday, wish me luck for this haha! I hope you’ll like this whole series! 💕

TAGLIST: (leave a comment to be a part of it!)

You had a long day, probably the longest day since a very long time. But you were happy. Happy because you had found a flaw in their code, and you exploited it fully. You smirked as you looked at the ceiling of your room while laying on your matters. Your cat purring onto your ear as you scratched his head while thinking about how well your plan went.

They were up to something lately, you noticed an unusual rate of apparitions in illegal servers that you hoped were theirs. And you were absolutely right. Your informatics team was made of geniuses, and if you could you would kiss each and every one of them on their cheek thanks or because of the work they did, geniuses that had helped you a countless number of times. They managed to infiltrate their group chat, without being kicked out, unnoticed. A victory you wanted to celebrate as it should be and you were so thrilled that you began to move from one foot to another while the messages were flashing up on the big screen they settled for this reunion. You couldn't help but smile as you saw them, your Ghosts speaking. It was almost like spying on old friends, looking for them, looking for the smallest error they would make in order to catch them. To have them under control. Finally, after years of work.

You knew them, you knew how they spoke from the times you had managed to get into their conversations, and from the data you had somehow gathered. Seeing them in action, typing live while you were watching them was priceless. You could feel all the emotions overwhelming you at once, a wave of happiness and adrenaline.

One: Four, you managed to find the plans of this building?

Four: Yup found them

Currently working on the outside of the building

This is some shitty building with a shitty architecture

Not made for parkour :(

Two: Whatever, we don't need to know what you properly think about the building. We need to know if you will be able to handle this.

Four: You doubt me? :(

Two: Should I?

Four: Mean :(

Seven: If I can add something, the building next to the one we're “attacking” is perfect for me

One: You can take the inverted commas back because we're attacking this building

Three: Yeah motherfuckers!

Two: If the only thing you have to say here is “motherfuckers” you can just shut up Three.

Three: Ooooh, Two isn't happy :*

Two: If you continue, I swear to God, I'm going to kill you this Sunday.

Five: Can we please focus? ^^'

One: A person that is FINALLY interested in the mission

Three you're sure we have no cop on our back?

Three: Apparently we're safe now

Four: So bad

I love teasing the cute cops :(

Five: You'll have plenty of time to tease them on Sunday ^^

Four: Right

One: You want some coffee? Pastries? Maybe you want to be left alone in this chat?

I mean WE'RE NOT PREPARING ANYTHING BIG ARE WE?

Five: Sorry One... ^^'

Four: Whatever

Let's talk about real shit

Seven: When Four's in that mood I'm always a bit scared because it means that this mission's going to be batshit

Two: Exactly. Batshit as you say.

A giggle almost escaped from your lips as you had access to all the information you needed to gather a unit. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to look as professional as possible while you were burning inside. This case began to be interesting again. You were about to capture them. All of them. Especially Four. You never truly forgot how he had treated you during your first encounter, a few years ago when you managed – with some luck – to catch a glimpse of who they really were. You saw his grin under his dark hoodie before he began to run away from you as you truly couldn't do anything. You couldn't shoot him, you stood there, your hands holding the gun with your fingers on the trigger. One gunshot. In the air. But he didn't stop. And you wanted so badly to beat him up, this cocky bastard. And you let him go, without doing anything.

But not this time, you thought scratching your cat's head.

~~~~

It was two in the afternoon. The sun was high in the sky, and beads of sweat were running down your temple. You were all suited up for the great occasion, almost in a hazmat suit, wearing a bulletproof jacket weighting almost a ton and a large helmet, in one hand a gun – how much you wanted to shoot to scare them again – and in the other a walkie-talkie to give further instructions to the guys with you.

You were leading this operation, but you couldn't stay out of it as any other head of the operation would: you had to face them. To catch them. To finally beat them. A movement. Somebody informed you about movement on the East side. Seven or Four. Five should be already inside the building, One shouldn't be anywhere near, however Three must have been near in a car, waiting for them in any case – in case you would try to catch them. Two was the wild card, and probably the one that would save their asses if something went wrong: she wasn't ready to face you. Absolutely not. Movement at the entrance, a tall woman entering the building with a fur-coat. Two or Five, you thought. Another movement on the East side. You were sure about it: it was Four. Right when one of your men spotted some agitation inside the building, you launched your troops inside. It was now or never, and having at least one of them would under your wing would help you a lot.

You rushed your troops inside, leaving the lead of a smaller unit to Jake as you took another unit with you to the roof – secretly hoping that you would catch Four, that you would succeed this time. Slowly, without any noise, you walked towards the doors opening them with great caution as the men behind you watched your back. You felt adrenaline rushing through your veins and your heart beat faster and faster with every footstep. And when you opened the door, you saw them. Two faces looking at you, one tall blond and the other small brunette. This was Four, and the woman was either Five or Two.

“Shit,” Four exclaimed before beginning to run in the opposite direction to his partner.

“Split,” you yelled pushing your teammates towards the woman who might have been their weakest point if caught. Without a doctor, they would be screwed. “I'll fucking catch you, Four,” you then muttered under your breath as you began to run after him.

He swiftly began to jump from one platform to another, sometimes looking above his shoulder to make sure that he had lost you. No he didn't. How much you regretted that you couldn't shoot properly while running after him, and stopping would be a waste of some precious time knowing how agile he was. You cursed as he began to hide between the boxes of the backroom – why the hell had they chosen this particular place? You had to properly scan it, now you knew it was an important place. Shit, shit, shit.

As he began to hide, you went up where you last saw him. A bit shaky and unsteady, you began to walk on the platforms, between the various boxes and other things you'd then have plenty of time to look at. You heard some movement on your left, and turned around almost immediately, but before you could actually thing or do anything Four was there. Right next to you. You felt his strong arm pushing you towards the edge of the platform, with a smirk on his face as he looked you right in the eye.

“Have a nice fall, lovebird,” he said and you could only widen your eyes before falling and hitting the ground. You felt dizzy, and slowly you closed your eyes.

~~~~

Fantastic, he thought as he saw you fall. He couldn't yet know if he said that sarcastically or not. This mission had become a lot harder since the cop girl decided to join the fight, he thought before jumping down, right next to you. He had found you funny, since your very first encounter a few years ago, right at the beginning of the case and when he teased you a lot. He still remembered that moment, when you went all red from what he had said and lost all composure, which made you miss him with your bullet.

And then he knew he couldn't let you escape from his teasing.

The whole squad was always annoyed when you tried to infiltrate their conversations, their exchanges and information and Four was the only one to get excited when Three mentioned you. The cute cop. He liked that particular nickname that he had given you, and used it as much as possible to talk about the cop in charge of their case. It made all sound way less dramatic than it was, because deep inside, he knew that you weren't just cute, but also smart and you had proven that on that day. He was impressed, as he circled around you, looking at your face behind the helmet you wore, still unconscious.

He couldn't believe that you had infiltrated their information chatroom, and that you had put on a trap on them. A failed one, but still a surprising one. He crouched down, right next to you before taking your jaw into his palm. Through the glass, he saw your eyes closed and some mist. You were alive, thank God. The last thing he wanted was to add a cop kill on his record – even if, he had to admit it, the way he pushed you was really classy. He sighted while looking at you, you never learned your lesson then, he thought right after.

“You're such a complete disaster,” he groaned before scooping you off the ground almost like a feather. “Like, holly hell, how does anyone let you out their sight! Stop picking fight with people you aren't ready for!” He stated for you, or more to himself he couldn't tell as he pulled you towards one of the entrances of the backroom, hoping that right there one of your colleagues would find you quickly and bring you to the hospital if needed – but clearly he knew you wouldn't be that bad.

You apparently were as stubborn as he was. And seeing you all alone chasing him made Four smile. You looked nothing like a badass cop, he saw you the first time without all of this masquerade clothing, you looked frail and gentle. Nothing hinting that you would be such pain in the ass for the whole squad. You had to be big to be able to go alone chasing one of them, leaving the rest of the troop chasing Five – he hoped that Seven took care of them to protect her. All of that seemed pretty funny to him, a little lady like you being the big boss and the big brain of the operation. That was a nice change from the cops he used to deal with.

Suddenly, he saw that you began to delicately move your head, slowly coming back to the world of the living and he smirked again. He had won, another time. But he knew it wasn't the last time he was about to see you. And he couldn't wait to do what he intended from a very long time, but thinking that you were just an average cute cop who would never find them he thought it would be stupid. But now, he knew you were worthy of his attention.

Absolutely.

[mkaybuddy]

For fic, I've been livinggggg for older zimbits if you want to write something like that? Like either AU where they meet in their late 40s or just future fic in canon? Basically post NHL career haha

YOO tbh I’d never even??? Thought about this??? and I’m so into it so I did a quick little first chapter and I posted it on AO3 (here) and I have ideas and we’re gonna KEEP GOING and it’ll be good. Maybe. Ah I’m so sorry I hope it’s okay. (It’s also here under the cut)

For the casual NHL legend sight seeing, it may be assumed that Canada was the place to go. Maybe in some posh Tim’s by some glittering mansions you’d happen upon some tall, friendly, fighters who were to grown up to grow out their flow. Most of the time, that’d be a solid guess, but the legend most people wanted to see was in Rhode Island, waking up with a bed head and bad breath just like the Average Joe.

Jack Zimmermann had considered retreating to Canada after his hockey career, but something drew him right back to Providence. The Flaconers had remained one of Jack’s favourite teams through the years, and when he’d considered moving back it just felt right. He had season tickets, had met the team, and felt just as home here as he had all of those years ago when he’d just graduated Samwell and was on his first professional team.

Just like he did back then, he stumbled out of bed, swished around some Listerine, pulled on some neon sneakers, and ran out the door.

Most of the people in this neighbourhood were moms. Well, they were mostly families with parents around his age and kids younger than he remembered kids could be. Around this time of day, he knew he would see Margaret, James, Carol, and maybe Sam on his run. They’d wave and make passing conversation while trimming the hedges, walking the dog, running the opposite direction, and stretching before their run. That all happened, but one thing was different. Jack usually stopped to stretch thirty minutes in by a closed shop downtown, the sad little “For Rent” sign reminding him of when Jen and Sally moved away and took their ice cream shop with them. Today, though, the sign was replaced with “SOLD!” written half-hazardly, like it was some sort of pleasant surprise to the owner of the building. Jack looked inside as he stretched, trying to picture what could be there one day. He could see it as a bar, or maybe a bakery, or maybe a bookstore. Even a toy store, he thought as a dad passed with his kid in a stroller. Jack got back to running.

Most NHL stars got married by his age. Jack never dated, never got married, and tried to keep PR from making him do either. He’d been focused on hockey, he always was, and that’s what he always said in pressers. People still threw themselves at him, sure, because even at this age he still worked out and still had a great, fantastic, something-to-write-home-about hockey ass.

Still. Everyone around here was married with kids and it wasn’t like Jack wasn’t looking, he just wasn’t actively looking. There was a difference, even if his best friend Shitty did call him out on that sounding “Mad stupid, brah.”

Oh well, he thought as he pulled off his sneakers and leaned on his pristine, barely used counters. He had time to figure all that out.

-

“Jack, come on. I know you’ve gotta be bored out of your mind. What are you doing, going to PTA meetings?”

“Don’t have kids.”

“Okay, so then really what are you doing?”

George Martin. Back in college Jack and George used to go on runs when discussing him signing to Providence. Now, years later, they were going on a run discussing getting him on the same payroll yet again, this time just not on the roster. And damn if she didn’t have a point. He was a little bored, waiting for something interesting to show up in his life.

Jack had gotten some eyes from his usual morning chatters with his company, but that was only from James who seemed eager to see Jack settle down and let someone, to quote, “enjoy that ass up close and personal.” Jack was less concerned about the eyes and more concerned that she was convincing him.

“You know it’d be great to be back with the Falcs. The team is different, but - ,” George started as they paused to stretch by what used to be the closed building. They had to stop a few feet before he normally would because people were moving into the building. Jack admittedly stopped paying his full attention to George as he watched curiously to see what was being created in that nice little space. He had a bet with Margery down the street. She was convinced it was a cupcake-focused bakery, but Jack thought it was more general than that. It wasn’t the $20 he cared about, it was the fact that she thought such a prime location would be so perfect for just cupcakes.

“Oh, you’re a doll.” The words came from a blond guy, a little younger than Jack maybe and quite a bit shorter, talking to a hulking moving guy who was less of a doll more of a GI Joe. The blond continued by pointing the GI to a specific corner of the store with the crate he was carrying in a way that made it obvious this guy would have the answers Jack wanted.

“One second,” he said to George before he stepped forward to the newcomer. “Hey.” Jack was wearing a bright smile and had his left hand holding a stitch in his side he usually got on this run. “Settle a bet? My friend Margery thinks this is going to be a cupcake shop. She’s wrong, right?”

The blond man looked up and at first, he looked a bit star-struck. Maybe he knew hockey enough to know Jack Zimmermann, which wouldn’t be unheard of. He quickly seemed more comfortable when he had something to answer and smiled, bright and friendly.

“This is a more wide-spread bakery, pun intended. I’ve been told my pies are the best, but a case could also be made for my preserves. There’s also the question of if the mini pies or the full sized pies are better, and I mean cupcakes aren’t off the table either,” he said, rambling a bit but maintaining a cute, contagious grin the whole time that easily made Jack smile wider. The man chuckled. “I can’t limit myself to one baked good, Margery, especially in this location.”

“That’s what I thought! The building was too prime of a spot, too opportunistic to stick with one category.” This made the blond smile encouragingly, so Jack kept going. “You’re the baker then?”

“I surely am! Eric Bittle,” he said, holding out his hand. Jack took it happily.

“Jack Zimmermann, and this is Georgia Martin.” They exchanged assurances of pleased meetings, and Jack took a peak into the future bakery. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, Eric. Hopefully I can stop in sometime.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Eric said, his smile still friendly. It made Jack wish he could find a way to not awkwardly stay and help set everything up.

Alas, he and George took off on a run again, George only chirping him with a side glance before going back into how he be an asset to the Falconers off the ice just like he was on.

[myselfinserts]

I still remember the day I met you…

Odette was frustrated. She’d had to drop three clients in a single month because they kept cancelling mere seconds before their appointments were meant to start. She was struggling with getting a new version of the Atelier’s multi-tool to work properly in time for the testing phase. 

And now, she had a three week long job starting that day at ten, and because of her summer temp, she had no idea what the real name of the client was. The only reason she had accepted this client in the first place was because Harper said Kasumi needed a favor for a friend. And for whatever reason, they'd neglected to put a reasonable name on the lists.

Were it not for the fact that Harper chased off an attempted thief just a week ago, she’d have sent them back to Ena without a second thought. 

“Alberi,” she said firmly. “You will tell me who it is that I’m seeing today right now.”

Harper shrugged, taking a swig of their coffee. “It’s on the memo, boss. I already gave it to you.”

“'Battler Jewels' is not a name! It's a pseudonym based on a video game character and fancy rocks!"

"Say it three times fast before the 10 o'clock shows up, Allard. You're smarter than this."

Odette rolled her eyes, letting out a long groan. "You think saying 'Battler Jewels, Battler Jewels, Battler Jewels' is going to do anything-" She paused, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "I hate you so fucking much. A shitty pop culture reference on top of pop culture references? How juvenile. I should defenestrate you right now for this bullshit."

"Oh, you're feisty," Harper teased. "I like that in a goddess."

"Just who is this Beetlejuice imposter you're having me work with? Because I'm about ready to cancel their appointment."

They set down their drink with a sigh, leaning back in their desk chair with their hands behind their head. "I can't legally tell you, because this is supposed to be hush hush, but I can give you a hint. I almost put the fake name as 'Even Hansen'."

Odette felt her stomach drop. But not unpleasantly so. Just hearing the character name invoked the image of unruly, dark black hair and a red beanie. Lovely eyes bordering between amethysts and tanzanite. The star struck smile on that stupid face whenever she would walk into a room. She could almost hear the singing voice now.

"I'm going to make Kasumi pay me double for this," was all she said.

Harper burst into laughter. "Send the bill to Eira! She'll gladly pay triple!"

Odette ignored that comment and went to her work station to prepare. She only had half an hour left until the client walked in. 

This was strictly professional. 

Right away, Odette knew this wouldn’t be an easy job. 

Granted, it was far easier than her usual fair these days. She wouldn’t be doing anything extreme like redesign an entire hero ensemble or prepare new coding for whatever computer system needed it. But it wasn’t going to be easy on her quirk. She could tell just by watching as the client walked in dragging a garment rack filled with clothes and a small carry on bag behind him. He was clearly uncomfortable in that black cable knit sweater. And the way he moved in those pants screamed agony. He looked nice, save for the iconic red beanie, but in no way was he happy in those garments. 

“Hello Gladstone,” Odette greeted as pleasantly as possible. “It’s been a while.”

“Like, far too long, Clem,” Harper added, putting a long drone on the ‘far’.

“It sure has. Thank you so much for squeezing me in.” Clement smiled as best he could. “I brought a spare set of clothes to change into, but I came in this to, uh...hehe...” 

“You’re clearly uncomfortable.” Without waiting a second, Odette had Harper take the clothing to the back and took Clement to the fitting room. He insisted on keeping the carry on. “So you’re what exactly was so hush hush that it required a fake name?”

Clement blushed slightly. “Ah, that. It’s not technically a legal thing yet, but it kind of is?” He chuckled nervously. “I asked Kasumi that if she managed to get me an appointment with you, she put a fake name down so I could surprise you. And also keep my cover.”

“Cover?”

“See, no one is supposed to know I’m here until the official production starts.”

Ah. It’s an actual job that brings him to Paris. How quaint. “Am I allowed to ask what kind?”

He smiled. “A TV show. I’ve got a role as part of the main cast. We’re only booked for one season at the moment.”

She nodded in understanding. “And I’m guessing that these garments you’re wearing and brought with are your character’s typical attire?”

“Yes, and I hate it,” Clement whined. “The person in charge of costume design refuses to tell us what’s in the fabrics, but whatever it is, I’m the only one allergic to it. We don’t have time to fire them and find another designer and I’m at risk of being replaced if I don’t get this fixed.”

Odette narrowed her eyes. “There’s at least half a dozen labor laws being violated here.” Her gaze slowly turned soft. “Take off the sweater and let’s see the damage. I’m guessing you have Mither’s healing water with you?”

“Never go anywhere without it.” Slowly, Clement set his hat aside, and carefully removed the sweater. 

It took all her restraint not to gasp at the red blisters and rashes forming all over his back, shoulders, arms. The way his chest moved tightly as though it were hard to breathe. Odette carefully examined the damage, slipping on a pair of gloves so she could get a better look safely. “What the fuck did those bastards do to you?”

“I don’t know, but I’m already putting together a case to take to court, since they refused to fix this when I asked. They threatened to fire me until I said I’d fix it myself.” His smile had completely vanished now, replaced with absolute dejection. “Kasumi and Ena said they’d take care of getting me an appointment and finding a lawyer. I just need to make sure I keep this job until we’re ready to submit the case.”

Everything was starting to make a little more sense now. Odette’s job was to find out what the materials were made of and make sure Clement didn’t lose his job. 

This wasn’t just a favor. This was another one of Ena’s little schemes. 

“I suppose I could help provide a bit of leverage,” Odette said. “There’s a shower just past the breakroom for employees. Let’s get you out of these horrid things and washed up. Then I’ll take your measurements. You’ll be coming in daily so we can make sure the replica wardrobe fits and is comfortable.” She wrinkled her nose. “I just hope I don’t have to touch these things too much.”

“You and me both,” Clem agreed. “If these are miserable on me, I hate to think what it’ll feel like for you. No one deserves this torture.”

“Abolutely agreed.” She took him by the arm and dragged him to the showers, leaving him alone to get cleaned up and to prepare for the measuring. 

Harper was just coming in to refill their coffee when they saw her come out of the showers. “Not gonna stay and watch him?” they teased. “He grew up nice, didn’t ‘e?

“Shut the fuck up, Alberi,” Odette hissed. She absolutely refused to agree with them, no matter how true the statement may or may not be.

She had a job to do.

When Clem came back for the fitting, he was dressed in a very nice navy blue suit that felt like heaven under her hands. Odette wanted to keep it so that she’d have something nice on hand to touch in order to reset between the hell fabrics. But she kept herself under control and kept to her work, measuring out every seam and stretch in preparation for the task at hand. 

Clem smiled softly, watching her work through the reflection in the mirror. “I still remember the day I met you… On the roof of U.A.”

“Your cat was startled by me until you assured him I was a much better cuddle companion than yourself.” She smirked. “How is that cat doing?”

“Mr. Pickles is fantastic. Thanks for asking.” He hummed softly. “He’s currently at my apartment. Probably napping.”

“You have an apartment?”

“Yeah, production’s going to last a year. Figured it was cheaper than renting out a hotel room and eating out every night.”

“Smart move.” She relaxed a little. She wasn’t sure why she’d been so tense. Probably the stress. She’d have to go to bed early to make sure it didn’t affect her work further. “It’ll certainly make it easier to have Harper stalk you.”

“Oh god,” he laughed. “I wouldn’t mind though. It’s nice to see you both again.” His face flushed pink. “It’s really good to see you. I...missed you.”

Odette stopped for just a second. She hadn’t been expecting that. “I...suppose I also might have missed having you around. It was nice having someone worship the ground I walk on.”

His laughter grew, and Odette swore she heard him snort. “Glad to see your confidence matches your height now. You used to be shorter than me. You’re what now, 6′ 2″?”

“6′ 3″,” she corrected. “Renegade was none too happy about it at first, but then burst into the whole ‘our little babies are growing up’ charade. Papa was quite annoyed, though I feel he agreed with the sentiment in concept.” Odette smiled playfully. “What about you, petit idiot?”

“5′ 11″. Stopped growing a year into college.”

“A pity. You missed out on the Gladstone Giant Gene.”

“I guess I did.” His face grew bright red. “But...I don’t mind. I’d rather look up at the stars than tower over them, you know?”

Odette scoffed, her smile never disappearing. He wasn’t being subtle. But he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries either. No, this felt like their initial conversations. Simple banter and playful chit chat, with a little added boost to her ego thrown in for good measure. It was simple. It was comfortable. It felt natural. 

When did I start missing these little jabs?

“All done,” she said finally, writing down the last of the measurements. “I think that’s all for today. I’ll be working on the first few garments for the rest of the afternoon. Come in tomorrow and I should have at least one outfit prepared.” 

Clement nodded, slipping his beanie into his carry on. “Thanks Odette. I really appreciate this.”

“Not at all. Anything for an old friend.”

“Yeah. Right. Of course. Uh...” Nervously, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper with his name, address, and contact info on it. “I know that you probably will get it from Harper already but...if you need to contact me...or if you ever just wanna stop by and say hi-”

Odette snatched the paper immediately. “As if I’d pass up another chance to kick your ass at poker.”

Clement’s eyes lit up. “Yeah. Yeah, sounds great. And I can make us dinner. If, uh, if you like.”

She nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Great! Great. I’ll, uh...I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Ten sharp.”

“I’ll be here early. And I can pick you up something on the way if you want?”

“I have plenty, but thank you for the offer.” Without another word, she lead him to the front, checked him out, and sent him on his way. 

Harper peeked up from behind her computer, wiggling their eyebrows. “So? How’d it go~?”

Odette rolled her eyes. “He’s still an idiot.”

“But...?”

“...But I suppose he’s still my idiot as well.” She headed toward the back room. “Now get back to work. Ena’s got a job for us.”

“Perfect!” Harper cheered. 

Odette just sighed and went back to work. 

Never a quiet day at the Atelier. 

[kristannafever]

Bikes and Badges

KP!!  I did the thing!  I could not help myslef, I just HAD to write this. -I hope it’s not too bike heavy (got kind of carried away lol).  This was so fun to write.  *I also set it in Boston.  I do hope I didn’t mess it up, or offend!  Persoanlly I’ve never been there, but my Hubs has, and I am going to be jealous about that until I get to visist myself!*

Rated: T?? (I don’t know... very minor swears, but nothing really bad, but I think we all know I have no idea how to rate stuff) WC: 2315

Kristoff flicked the switch for the ignition.  He would never get tired of hearing the distinct sound of a Harley Davidson come to life.  There was just no way to fully describe it.  It was raw and guttural and so unique.  There was no other bike on the planet that sounded like a Harley.  His own Chopper back home was much louder, but at least the Police Cruiser had more torque.  

He pulled on his helmet and slid on his Aviators, smiling as he swung his leg over the bike and settled himself in the familiar seat.  He pulled up the kickstand with his left foot and backed the bike out of the stall it was parked in, at the Police garage.  He popped the bike into gear and eased back on the throttle as he let go of the clutch, slowly cruising from the garage onto the streets of Boston.

As soon as he was out on the road, he opened it up.  The loud crack of the throttle and the vibration between his legs, filled his senses.   Ever since he had hopped on his first little Yamaha 50 dirt-bike, at 7 years old, he was hooked.  There was no way to describe the feeling of being on a bike, and Kristoff’s face broke out into a smile as began cruising and looking for people to pull over.

He loved his job.

It was a gorgeous July day, and Kristoff enjoyed the sun on his skin, even if he did start to get a little hot waiting at traffic lights.  As soon as he was able to move again, and the wind greeted him, all was right in the world.  He drove with the effortlessness that comes from years of handling a bike.

He was cruising past Fenway Park when he spotted his first traffic offender.  He hated having to pull people over for something as simple as not coming to a complete stop at a stop sign, but so far it was a slow day and he had a quota to make.

He flicked his thumb on the siren and pulled the Road King up behind the vehicle as it came to a slow stop.  Kristoff used the toe of his boot to pop the bike into natural and flicked down the kickstand.  He stood and easily lifted his leg over.  He approached the vehicle slowly, with his hand resting on his service pistol.

He looked down at the auburn-haired fellow with shitty sideburns, but before he could open his mouth the man’s green eyes flared with anger.  “What the hell are you pulling me over for?”

“You didn’t come to a complete stop at that stop sign back there.”

The man gaped at him. “Are you kidding me?  That is horseshit!”

“Licence and registration please.”

The man grumbled and swore under his breath as he fumbled out his things and handed them to Kristoff. He took them back to the bike and called in the plate and the licence number to make sure there were no outstanding warrants.   Everything was clean, so Kristoff wrote up the summons and walked slowly back to the car.

“Here you are.”  He handed back the mans things along with the fine.  “You have thirty days to-“

“Yeah, yeah, this isn’t my first ticket.”

“Have yourself a nice day.” Kristoff smiled at him, ignoring the sneer her got in return.   He heard the word Pig being uttered as the man drove away.

Kristoff got back on his bike with a sigh.  That was one part of the job he did not enjoy.  People always acted differently around him when he was in uniform.  He was either met with complete and utter distain, or people seemed to shy away, as if they were guilty of something.  He had been told many times that seeing a cop sometimes made people feel like they were doing something wrong, even when they weren’t.

It all boiled down to respect.  Either people respected what he did, or they didn’t, and the latter was so difficult to deal with sometimes.  He had been accused, on more than one occasion, of being a dirty cop by random civilians after he had pulled them over, for no other provocation than he had to give them a ticket for a law that they had broken.

He pulled back onto the road and kept his eyes open as he cruised back towards the piers.  He knew by the time he made his way over there, it would almost be lunch time, and he could head over to Pauli’s and grab one of their delicious Lobster Rolls.

He was cruising through the Theatre District on Stuart when an old Volkswagen Beetle caught his eye, and not for his appreciation of old cars, but because it had a broken tail light. Kristoff flicked on his sirens again and pulled behind the bug.  It pulled over slowly and he repeated the routine he had done a thousand times.  

When he got up to the window of the car he was surprised to see a pair of beautiful blue eyes staring at him.

“Know why I pulled you over miss?”

She shook her head slowly. “No.”  Her voice was level, and she did not seem intimidated at all.  It was a nice change.  Most women he pulled over already had the waterworks started, to try and get out of the ticket he was going to issue them.

“Your tail light is broken.”

“It is?”  She blinked at him.

He stood back and gestured with a sweep of his arm for her to come and take a look herself.  She obliged, opening her door and gliding to her feet.  She walked to the back to take a look, her face falling as she realized someone must have vandalized her car because the entire light was bashed in.

“At least the body is okay.” Kristoff offered upon seeing her frustrated frown.

“Do you know how hard it is to get authentic parts for these cars?”  She said more to herself than to him.  “And they’re wicked expensive too.”

“What year?”

“It’s a ‘77.”

“My Buddy owns a parts shop. I can give you his number and maybe he can get a line on one for you.”  Kristoff reached into his pocket and pulled out a card.  He always grabbed a couple before he left for his shift because there were a lot of cases like this, and he was able to throw Sven a lot of business.  He handed it to her.  “Here you go. I’ll let him know you’ll be calling, and I can get him to give you the price at cost.”

She brought her eyes to his slowly and took the card from his outstretched hand.  “Thank you.”  She said quietly.  

“Don’t mention it.” Kristoff smiled at her, trying to remain professional in her captive gaze.  It had been a long time since he had pulled over someone who was so pretty.

“How much is this going to cost me?”  She asked, tucking the card into the pocket of her jeans.  

“Huh?”  He wasn’t sure her meaning.  He was caught up in the spans of freckles across her cheeks.

“The ticket.  For the broken tail light?”

“Oh, I wasn’t going to give you one.  I’ll just let you off with a warning.”

“That’s sweet.”  She said in a curious manner.  

Kristoff smiled at her and tipped his head in a courteous gesture.  “Well you have a good day miss.  And please get it fixed as soon as you are able.  If another cop pulls you over, you might end up getting a ticket after all.”

He was just about get back on his bike when he heard her behind him.  

“Um Officer…”

He turned around. “Bjorgman.”  He offered, just as she was reading his nametag.  

“Look, Officer Bjorgman,”

“Kristoff.”

“Pardon?”

“Call me Kristoff. That’s my first name.”

“Oh.”  She blushed above her smile.  “Well, Officer Kristoff, I don’t suppose you would let me buy you lunch?  As a thank you?”

“No need, Miss…?”

“Anna.”

“No need Anna.  I’m just doing my job.”

“Still, I appreciate your kindness.  I’d like to repay you.”

There was something in her gaze that was breaking down all his defenses.  “Well… I was heading over to Pauli’s.”

Her eyes lit up.  “Oh perfect!  They have the best sandwiches!  Please just let me buy you one, as a thanks.”

He knew he shouldn’t, but she was suddenly impossible to resist.   “Alright, how about I meet you over there?”

She broke out into a smile that sent shivers down his back despite how hot it was getting.   “Great!  See you there.”

*****

Anna followed him, and parked behind him as he pulled up to the street.  She tried not to get too flustered, watching him stand and swing one of his long legs over the bike as he removed his helmet and ran his hand through his golden hair a few times.   He approached her and smiled.

She smiled back, ignoring her her reflection in his Aviators and they walked the half block down to the little sandwich place.

Kristoff pulled the door open and stood inside to let her enter.  She obliged and walked a few steps in before turning around.  He was tucking the arm of his sunglasses into the pocket on the front of his uniform and met her gaze.

She faltered at the warm brown of his eyes.  She wasn’t expecting them to be so gorgeous, and… soulful.

“What’s your usual?” He asked.

“Uh…”  She knew what he was wondering, but words were escaping her at the moment.  

He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes with curios smile.

“Uh,” She giggled nervously. “The Mama Lucca actually.  How about you?”

“Oh, Lobster Roll all the way.”

“Yeah?  Never had one here.  Maybe I’ll have to give that a try too.”

They waited in line until it was their turn to place their order and Anna ordered two Lobster Rolls. Kristoff grabbed a handful of napkins and sauntered over to one of the few tables the place had to offer to wait for her.  She paid for their sandwiches and two cans of Coke and joined him with their order number.

He was strumming his fingers on the table nervously, clearly not knowing what to say, so Anna opened the line of dialogue.  She was always good at that.  “So, biker cop huh?  How do you like it?”

Anna had to smile at the way his face lit up.  “Oh, I love it.  It’s the best.  Just being out there on the bike, riding around the city… it’s fantastic.  I love to ride.”

“Yeah?  You have your own personal motorcycle then too?”

“Ahyuh, Custom-built Harley Chopper.”

“Let me guess, a Softail?”

His mouth gaped at her. “Uh yeah.”  He said slowly.

She laughed.  “My Dad was a motorcycle enthusiast.”

“He was, was he?” Kristoff said and rubbed his hand thoughtfully over his chin.  “You ride too?”

“Me, no.  Never really got interested, but I loved to listen to my Dad talk about it.  I could listen to him for hours, and believe me, he could talk for hours.”

Kristoff opened his mouth but their number was called, so he shut it slowly and got up to grab their food. They chatted idly as they ate, and Anna enjoyed every bite of her sandwich, knowing she now had a new usual when she went to Pauli’s.  

When they were done they talked a little more about Anna’s work as a Concierge at the Fairmont Copley Plaza hotel, before they walked back to their vehicles to go their separate ways.

Anna noticed that Kristoff was lingering a bit as she stood next to her car, and she desperately hoped that it was to ask her out.  She didn’t want to be so forward as to ask out a cop herself, who she was sure let her out of a ticket, while he was on duty… but she really wanted to keep talking to him.  

“Thanks again for lunch.” He smiled.  

Anna was glad his sunglasses were still resting from his pocket, so she could see his wonderful brown eyes in the sunlight.  “Well thank you, for not giving me a ticket.  And your friends number.”  She patted the pocket of her jeans.

“Don’t mention it. You have yourself a good day Anna.” He said and gave her a wink.

“You too.”  She said, trying not to let her disappointment come through in her voice as he turned to walk away.  

But he paused, and slowly turned back to her, perhaps hearing her dejection.  “Forgive me if this is a little forward, but would you��� maybe like to grab dinner sometime?”

Anna didn’t hold back the excitement in her smile.  “Yes. Yes, I would.”

“Wonderful.”  He smiled back and dug in his pocket for his phone.  Anna did the same and they exchanged their numbers with promises to get back in touch with each other soon.  Anna slid into the seat of her car and watched as he put on his helmet and sunglasses and got on his bike.  She bit her lip at the little wave he gave her as he rode off.

She fished into her pocket and pulled out the card he had given her.  She knew if it was any other cop who pulled her over, things would not have gone the way they did.  She tucked the card into her purse so she wouldn’t forget about it and accidently wash it with her clothes, like she always seemed to do with all the things she collected in her pockets.

She pulled out onto the street and drove back home with a huge grin on her face, excited to go on a date with a cop who liked bikes.  

[poipoi1912]

Carisi-centric thoughts on Eps 18x20, 18x21

I'm glad that's over.

Overall Thoughts

This was an intense but unnecessarily convoluted episode. This case could have been solved in fifteen minutes, not two hours. At least it wasn't another "rich white people he said/she said," and all the characters got their moment to shine, but I can't say I enjoyed it. It wasn't bad, it just kind of dragged. There was no need to stretch this over two episodes. The squad had to track down about twelve different witnesses to the same crime. Eliminate a couple of those witnesses, a few of the racist rants, and a Hallmark moment or three, and you'd have one tight finale.

Benson's Dilemma

I have to start here.

The characters kept saying it, but I don't see what was so different about this particular case (other than the fact it was not about rich white people). Hate crimes happen every day. So do rapes and murders. Why would Barba suddenly decide to urge Liv to lie on the stand? That wasn't just random and out of character, it wasn't supported by the script.

If they needed Barba to do that to create tension between himself and Liv, if they wanted to make Liv look better by comparison, and more ethical than Barba, they needed to set it up better. I mean, it didn't even make sense. When Barba was trying to convince Liv, he effectively said "I'm not saying lie, I'm saying maybe the witness was confused," but what does that have to do with anything? Liv could only testify to what she personally heard. If the witness says, "I told Benson," Liv can't say, "oh, I don't know, maybe she's confused". Liv can only say "yes, she told me," or "no, she didn't tell me." Liv can only tell the truth, and she's certainly not confused, so what was Barba's point?

Also, we're supposed to believe Barba would jeopardize his own career (which is already in the shitter, so maybe I'd buy that, actually), but also Liv's career, and for what? So he wouldn't lose? For justice? If so, why this case, and not last week's case? Why not next week's case? (thank God there's no next week) Why not every case? Is this something he's done before? Is this something he'll do again, if he thinks he can't win? What are his standards for lying? (probably “is it the season finale?” lol) Does he even have any standards? Where's the line? Is Barba okay with perjury now? And from now on? Or was it a one-time thing?

Dodds Thoughts

I wish the writers had chosen Dodds Sr. as the only character to gently goad Liv into lying. That would have been enough. I don't see why Barba had to compromise his own ethics. As a matter of fact, I loved the Dodds Sr./Olivia scene. It's worth noting that Dodds Sr. didn't actually try to sway her directly, not like Barba did. Dodds Sr. just offered her some perspective, and shared his own experiences. I loved that he said he had played it both ways, in the past. That was believable, for a cop in his position. It was subtle, and beautifully played, and well-written.

Bottom line, Dodds Sr. still let Liv make up her own mind. Barba tried to be cute, all "lol she was confused, Liv, can't you say you were confused too? Pretty please?" which kinda rubbed me the wrong way. And Liv clearly felt the same. Compare her reaction to Barba ("are you kidding me, sis?" and then a hilarious rejection) to her reaction to Dodds Sr. (she legitimately asked for his advice, in the end, with that quote about Mike lol whos' mike?, and she genuinely smiled at him).

I don't know. The whole thing reeked of "omg you guys it's the season finale and we need some drama". I'm glad Liv decided not to lie.

But let’s get to Sonny:

Sonny's Temper

Finally, the writers found a way to make Sonny angry in a believable way. In a way that wasn’t out of character. In a way that made sense in context, and didn’t come out of nowhere. Seriously, out of all the instances in which Sonny has lost his temper this season, this is the one and only time I felt for him, and thought he was justified. I mean, was it necessary to have him body slamming people left and right, throughout the episode? No. Was it necessary to have him (and everybody else) yelling in every other scene? No. But was it too much, or too violent? Also no.

This wasn't random anger for no reason, this wasn't just, "OK guys let's all SHOUT all our LINES because it's the season FINALE!!!!" (though that totally happened, too. They even got the usually very whispery Kirk Acevedo to yell, which made me laugh).

Sonny had a real reason to be mad, and that made a difference. Roughing up a perp is one thing, and it still makes me uncomfortable because I'm a SJW oops, sorry, I thought I was an SVU writer for a second, and I started using buzzwords :D

But shoving ICE agents, because they're detaining a key witness, and they're practically sending him to his death? Making Sonny break his promise, in the process? And letting rapists and murderers go free? That’s anger I can get behind.

I also appreciated the way Sonny and Barba argued without either of them losing their temper. They disagreed (and they didn't even really disagree, because Barba was only suggesting to use the threat of deportation as a bluff sort of), but they just expressed their opinions as professionals, and as equals, without any yelling or finger-wagging. And they both (sort of) had a point. That's the type of argument we might have seen in a previous season, and I enjoyed it watching it play out.

Sonny and Empathy

Finally, we got to see Sonny's love for children, shining through. That was always one of Sonny's main characteristics, and we never got to see it this season (aside from Great Expectations, a rare highlight). The way Peter conveyed Sonny's dismay at busting in on a couple of little girls with a gun in his hand? It was only a two-second reaction, but it said it all. Same for the way he tried to be there for Hector's poor daughters, kneeling in front of them at the hospital, trying to keep them away from their rightfully furious mother.

It was also interesting how Sonny was the only character who had strong feelings about threatening a woman using her children as leverage. Amanda and Liv, both mothers, had no such qualms (Rollins threatened multiple people's kids, like five times, and Liv was fine with literally calling ICE). Barba also had no qualms, but then Barba isn't exactly the most emotional person, lol.

I have to say, I didn't enjoy those threats. Every time, I'd side with the mother (even the racist one, who otherwise made me shudder). Leave kids out of this (didn’t Liv and Amanda go through this themselves, in Real Fake News?). And don't use shitty and scary immigration laws to threaten innocent people. It should be said, Soledad's husband was certainly complicit, but Soledad herself was just lying to keep her family together. Yes, murderers would go free as a result, but her motives weren't evil. Did she deserve to be separated from her kids?

And, the real question here, the one Liv and Barba ignored: did Soledad’s kids deserve to be separated from their mother?

That was my main issue (and also the main reason I loved Sonny’s reaction). I did agree with Barba in having little sympathy for Soledad, because ultimately she was lying, but what about her children? Barba had no sympathy for them, either. Sonny did (and Fin and Amanda seemed to agree). Sonny even sweetly said, "it's late, her kids are asleep," which was a wonderful detail. Liv and Barba were like, "Round 'em up! Right now! Traumatize those kids for life! Coercion! Fuck yeah!" but Sonny actually stopped to consider the emotional implications for those kids. That one line, and the way he said it, it moved me. It was perfectly consistent with Sonny's personality. He cares. He sees the big picture, but he also thinks about the little things, and how they affect others. Especially children. 

That’s why that was my favorite Sonny moment in the entire finale. It showcased his empathy, and his idealism, and his conviction in his beliefs. Sonny has always been unafraid to speak his mind, even if his superiors disagree.

Speaking of Sonny's superiors, I wonder if this stunt made Sonny respect Liv and Barba a little less. Because that happened to me. And Fin, who totally called Liv out :D

Morality Thoughts

I may joke about it, but I loved how Sonny and Fin clearly didn't approve of that stunt, of threatening a mother of two small children with deportation, and I appreciated the fact they were "allowed" by the writers to express those opinions to Barba and Liv, respectively. I also liked that Liv didn't answer Fin's question. That's the type of "grey area" writing which was sorely missing this season.

This was the rare instance when the audience wasn't expected to think Liv is 100% right, for a change, and the writers even had a beloved character like Fin call her out. They had an idealistic and sincere character like Carisi call out a more pragmatic and underhanded character like Barba. That was actually good writing (what???). Letting the audience draw its own conclusions. I wish the writers hadn't waited until the finale to start doing that.

Stray Thoughts

This season didn’t give us much on the Barisi front (or on any front), but it did give us this:

YOU’RE GONNA DEPORT ME TO CUBA? AND TAKE HIM TO ITALY? :DDD

Peter Gallagher is so handsome. And so talented. He brings so much to all his scenes. How does he do it? And why can't the rest of the SVU cast do it too, lol? No one came close to his nuanced performance, last night (from the regulars, I mean. The guest cast was mostly fantastic). And his lines weren't even that great. Honestly, how does he do it? I love him.

I also love not Eddie Kirk Acevedo. Were they trying him out as a potential new squad member, pairing him up with Sonny, and having him participate in an interrogation with Amanda, or is that wishful thinking? And does it even matter, now that we'll get a new showrunner? I mean, they probably needed guest stars to fill the airtime, because the finale was 2 hours long and the show only has like 3 characters left :D

Fin still has a detective's badge, right? Did I blink and miss him actually making Sergeant? And did I also miss a reference to his twitter-grandson?

Rollins, after shoving and practically headbutting that woman in front of her small son: "Honey it's okay, your mommy's fine! I'm just about to punch her in the face, but it's all good! Go play with your Xbox!"

I liked Yusef's reactions to Sonny's naive remarks about America. "I get it." "No you don't." Damn straight.

Did Sonny kick down that door literally ON that woman's face? The hell? She was standing right behind the door as he kicked it! Sonny, sweetie, you're no Derek Morgan. Leave the door-kicking to the experts.

Barba keeps getting swerved by Liv, lmao.

I won't get into the politics of it all. I don't have the time or the inclination. I'll just say the script was way too heavy-handed. I mean:

random guy, for no reason whatsoever: "What is happening in this country? This is America, right?"

Sonny (and me): "...yeah okay thank you we'll call you if we need anything else bye"

I am GLAD that's over.