#once i drop the next update i will come back constantly to beta it myself

[greatprotector-if]

kicking my feet & twirling my hair thinking abt galen

[dramarising-replacement]

G1 Hoarder Revamp and the Mountain of Salt

Can we all just acknowledge how much of a total fuck up the new G1 ping system is? I feel bad because they obviously went through so much work and beta testing for this system but it’s absolutely garbage in practice. This isn’t meant as a huge roast (even though I do think the creators could do with getting knocked down a few pegs given how poorly they’ve treated people through this entire process, oops) but I hope they at least see this and see things that they can work on. Obviously, going to them and sharing this stuff in person isn’t possible since L from arcane is notorious for gossiping and overall not super trustworthy, so anon route we go. I’ll give credit where credit is due: they definitely tried to go on the right path and the coding is good in theory. The big issue here is that they tried to fix something that was not great but worked with something that is not great and barely works. Sure there are some good things about the new ping system: if it’s not busy it’s not longer than six or seven minutes to do all of it for a few dragons, which, compared to the previous method? Pretty good timing. Helps automatically tag some colorgroups without having people confused about if their dragon counts or not, and uh... probably something else. The cons far outweigh the pros though: -sheet can only be used one at a time: terrible in theory, terrible in practice, there’s no queue system either so you’re not even guaranteed to go next even if you’ve been waiting ages. This becomes a nightmare around any holiday, as we’ve seen around notn, since everyone flocks to the ping generator and then quickly abandons after seeing the mess there. This should have been something that they found a way to work with from the start, especially since the previous spreadsheet, despite how long it took to sift through if you were actually assed to do all the specifics, could still be used by multiple people. -userface issues: going into the spreadsheet and it may all just be blank, does this mean someone’s using it? Someone isn’t? If you go ahead and assume not you’re going to get warned that you overrode someone since they get the ID to your dragon, if you don’t assume then you end up waiting for ages like an idiot and someone else swoops up the opportunity. The loading bar on the side doesn’t help give that info either since it constantly reloads due to the poorly planned code. Where users have their cells selected also doesn’t help since that isn’t always accurate. There are many times where the loading bar isn’t seen going, there isn’t any visible text on the screen, no comment in the box, but it’s still in use. This isn’t viable for anyone, especially not people who don’t fully understand how the system works. If you’re going to make it for only one person’s use at a time, you need to ensure it’s easier to see what’s going on for everyone. -laggy as all get out: sure, I don’t have to go through 15 pages of different types of pings on the old G1 pinglist and shovel through all the duplicates and specifics list people, but having more than 13 dragons or even doing a bigger lair sale (or even just anything during notn) means you get to wait for the program to chug away for ages (as well as the easy chance for someone to just cut in halfway through a load and have you start all over again or wait) and hope that the three people behind you don’t get impatient or angry as you have to do three separate input sessions rather than massing them all together as you could with the previous spreadsheet. -poorly designed aesthetically: maybe this may sound petty to some, but the design of the system is pretty terrible in terms of layout and color choice. This isn’t to say it’s just ugly though; after speaking about it with people who aren’t neurotypical, have disordered thinking processes, and/or have generalized issues reading things (autism spectrum, dyslexia, semi-visually impaired, etc.) it’s pretty clear that the entire thing is not accessible whatsoever for anyone who can’t immediately decipher what anything is. Black text on bright red is not a good thing for most people beyond old MySpace edgies. If you, as someone without reading or comprehension difficulties, are having a difficult time focusing on it: maybe consider how difficult it’d be for anyone else. The way the rules or tutorial section is laid out also does not help in terms of accessibility! It’s clunky and hard to read, does not flow well, and doesn’t explain as thoroughly as you may think. If you’re someone who uses coded spreadsheets often? Yeah sure, it might be understood. If you’re not? Welp. Good luck kiddo. -very poor user help: this is on the mods or creators more than the spreadsheet itself. If someone has a problem, the first thing you should do is talk with them to find the difficulty and tackle it from there. I’ve seen, multiple times now, where either N (plague) or L (arcane) straight up tell people that they can’t help them and that they should just read the guide on the front page. Like sure, they read them, but something is tricky for them and they’re asking for help. They can read the rules and guide again but without outside help, guess what? Not gonna help them. If you just keep linking them the forum or telling them to read the first page it won’t actually help anyone! One of your jobs as the creators here is to help the community that you made it for, not just parrot that they need to read. Be better. Add that to a system which is not forgiving of any mistakes whatsoever and it becomes a terrible little cocktail. Also does not help that, despite their sugar attitude about having people test it in discord servers, the creators l and r/p (both arcane) don’t actually help people who need help using it. -wait times/queue: this ties in to an earlier point, but there’s no way to organize who goes next. Sure, it might sound strange, but when you have to wait ages to get access despite you being there ahead of anon llama/drama/dingdong/animal because they can all hop in ahead of you, it becomes frustrating. People don’t always type in that itty bitty box to say what they’re doing, and people easily erase it or write over it, or they just outright ignore it. Obviously not everyone is going to do that, but it’s way too easy for people who are greedy/entitled to step over those who are being polite and patient. -no quick ping options this is also kind of minor, but at least with the old spreadsheet you could just click in and say “okay, I just want to ping XXY general for this because I have a quick sale.” Guess what: nah. You have to go through the entire chugging process and queue and everything else just to get that snippet of information on who to ping. What once took maybe five clicks is now five minutes to thirty depending on how many people are using it. Wanna quick check if a dragon with XYZ colours you hatched is one that someone wants specifically? Nah, fuck you. You have to input all the data and wait instead of just doing what was once a super easy quick search. There is so much other shit wrong with this system and I’m honestly surprised N (plague) allowed them to do this. Sure, the old pinglist could have done with some updating, but that should have been done in the form of clearing redundant double pings, maybe a way to sort through specifics like ‘male only’ and mass copy names there. Quality of life things, not this just... total mess. I understand that L and R/P got it into their heads that they needed to fix it and that they wanted to take over the entire system themselves, but they should have kept their pride out of it for once. The sheet to input what dragons you want is also another entire nightmare. It’s frustrating to go through the google poll a dozen times to say exactly what colors/eyes/gender/pasta-shape/siesta-fiesta under the sun you want rather than have a quick way to input it by drop-downs or even just a text based option like the old one had. It’s so easy to forget what you put in or which one you want to put in this time, so easy to end up making mistakes that you don’t see, etc. It’s just not an effective system. It’s great in theory, and sure, it’s all sparkly and new, but it’s like admiring an aluminum trash can. Shiny and sparkly under the sun, still holding a whole lot of hot garbage though. I understand that some people may find it easier, and that’s great! I’ve used it for a few things and yeah, it’s okay, but I wish the old one was back given all the grief and frustration this one has caused. Obviously I’m not in the place to be like DO THIS OR DO THAT since I’m not the one making the sheet here, but I do feel like the people who use it have every right to give commentary and feedback where possible. Even moreso when the creators and team aren’t actually as welcoming as they try to appear to be. As much as it sucks, a lot of L and R/P’s (primarily L) false niceties have kind of come to the surface lately which makes this whole situation just that much more awkward. If people don’t feel like they can approach you because they know you’ll rip into them here or on the anon site immediately, maybe you shouldn’t be a main creator of something for the user base or a mod for a bigger group. Just some side-thought to all this other stuff. Big post, big rambles, I can’t bring myself to organise it though because I’m pretty fed up and tired. Take from this what you may, but basically fix your shit new G1 Hoarder peeps.

[scribbles97]

Left Behind - Chapter 32

PART 1 / PART 2

Chapter 22 / Chapter 23 / Chapter 24 / Chapter 25 / Chapter 26 / Chapter 27 / Chapter 28 / Chapter 29/ Chapter 30 / Chapter 31

It hadn’t been Val’s plan to go the the simulator quite so soon after they had gotten home, but John had said something about familliarising himself with Thunderbird Three and Alan had been on the edge of another teenage temper tantrum. It had seemed like the easiest compromise to diffuse the situation. 

 When she had heard Thunderbird Two launch, both had looked at each other, concern on both their faces. A quick call upstairs had confirmed the launch to rescue a father and son trapped aboard an out of control hot air balloon. John seemed to have taken control of the situation, claiming his mother’s desk to work from whilst Scott had hovered over his shoulder. 

 Val had left the pair to it, trusting both to support each other and hoping they would manage to find their feet quickly whilst on the clock. John had been right, they did need a full time qualified pilot for Thunderbird Three, and when she had looked into it his stats from both NASA and the simulators placed him as the best man for the job. 

 Except, perhaps, his younger brother. 

As a challenge she had thrown up the live feed from Little Lightning, Beta Team had launched just as they had arrived home with Lucy. A TV satellite knocked out of orbit and into the path of another orbiting station needed realigning. Alan had taken it in his stride, reacting exactly as the other team had done, talking through his actions and glancing up to her for reassurance. 

 The kid was still just a teenager though, not even old enough to drive or vote. Lucy had made it clear, he had to do it the same way as his brothers, specialist training at the academy. He wouldn’t be allowed near an actual Thunderbird for another five years. 

 Not that Val could see him waiting patiently. 

 “What’s your closing distance?” She prompted, hovering at his shoulder, the first time he was flying without someone as Copilot to assist his actions. 

 “Thirty meters.” He responded with only the briefest of pauses, “Rotational vector still matched. Twenty meters… Ten.”

 The simulator jolted as the grappling arms engaged, lights above Alan’s head turning green to indicate a secure lock. 

 “Confirm successful lock?” 

 He nodded. 

 “Verbally.” She prompted again, “Remember your black box can’t see what you’re doing.”

 “Lock to satellite successful.” Alan confirmed, “Firing thrusters to counter spin.”

 She kept watching as her phone buzzed in her pocket, making Alan look up with a grin, 

 “I didn’t think there was any signal in space?”

 Laughing, she shook her head at him, “You watch your flying,” Glancing to the caller ID she frowned slightly, “Take her for a spin, but don’t crash whilst I’m EVA.”

 Alan sat straighter, eyes wide as she turned away and left him to it, stepping out of the simulator before she answered the call.

 “Casey.”

 “Val, it’s Ridley.”

 She had known the from the caller ID, what she didn’t know was why she was receiving the call. 

 “Not that it isn’t nice to hear from you Ridley,” She smiled perching on the steps up to the simulator, “But I would have thought you’d call John.”

 Ridley tutted softly, “I didn’t want to stick an idea in his head before I’d okayed it with someone higher up.”

 Val hummed and tilted her head to herself slightly, “Scott would be the one to speak to in that case.”

 “Scott won’t like what I have to say.”

 Val couldn’t help but snort as she looked down from the training balcony to the rest of the hangar where Thunderbird One sat, belly open and guts spilled out across the floor. 

 “So you want me to tell him to listen?” She asked, shifting to stand so she could watch Hiram and his pet robot as they organised the mess of wires trailing from the ship. 

 “The parts have arrived here for Thunderbird Five’s retrofit. I know the focus is on Lucy right now, but from what John and I have read and understood, this retrofit is our best chance at finding out if Jeff is out there.”

 Val sighed, they had all read the update Kyrano had provided them with to ensure everyone was on the same page regarding Gaat, the Mechanic, and Jeff. How much he had downplayed Lucy’s desperation, Val wasn’t sure. On reflection, it explained a lot though. Lucy had been antsy for weeks, constantly chasing an order for parts and making a point of reminding them that Five was due an upgrade. 

 An upgrade she had insisted on completing. 

 “John said the upgrades were based on a program he wrote, he probably has a better idea than anyone on what needs to be done up there.”

 With the explanation, the problem became clear. 

 “Scott still isn’t convinced John should be on the team.” She sighed, “I am working on persuading him.”

 “As is John,” Ridley murmured, “I don’t understand why Scott won’t let him up there immediately. This is their father we’re talking about.”

 Val knew the exact problem, but she knew she couldn’t voice it to Ridley. 

 Whether it was fate or convenience, she would never know, but it was right at that moment that Scott walked across the hangar floor to talk to Hiram. 

 Dropping her voice, Val turned back to the simulator, “Make plans for John and yourself to go up to Five for a week. I’ll speak to Scott.”

 The smile was clear in her voice even across the line, “F.A.B. Val.”

 “Scott!” She called across the cavern as she leant over the raillings of the balcony, “Get up here.”

 The frown he shot at her was visible even at the distance, making Val roll her eyes. The young man took more after his father than he realised, the furrowed brows and deep lines that cut into his forehead when something bothered him. Like his father, Scott would never admit it, not openly at least. 

 She was still leaning on the railing when Scott approached her from behind, his frown deeper again as he stood next to her.

 “What is it?”

 She kept her focus on thunderbird One as she spoke, “That parts have come in to upgrade Five.”

 His swallow was visible as he turned and leant on the railing alongside her, hands clasped together in a single fist as he took a long slow breath and let it out. 

 “I’m not sure that should be a priority right now.” He uttered, “We haven’t exactly the man power.”

 “We could spare John and Ridley.”

 “No.”

 The statement was quiet but firm. Scott had a decision made and it wasn’t going to be easy to make him change. 

 “Your father could be out there Scott.”

 His head dipped, eyes screwed shut as his forearms tensed. The dimples in his cheeks deepened as he pressed his lips together, shaking his head. 

 “I know.” He whispered, “I knew all along alright? But she told me not to get involved! To worry about keeping my team safe.”

 “Scott,” She started, watching him carefully, able to feel the hurt and anger radiating from him. 

 “No. Listen Aunt Val.” He snapped, blue eyes snapping open and piercing her, “Mom is down there in a coma because she made a rash decision. For once in her life she made a decision based on how she felt and what she wanted, and it damn near killed her.”

 She wanted to cut in, break him off and make him see that it wasn’t the case. The floodgates had opened though and she would have been fighting against the tide. 

 “It was my rash decisions that made her tell me to not get involved.” His voice dropped again, the rush of the flood gone as quickly as it had come, reduced to a trickle. 

 “I can’t trust myself to make a decision on this. Not when we almost lost Mom. Not when it could mean losing someone else.”

 It was as Val had expected, a man with the weight of his family’s safety on his shoulders and a fear that he wasn’t the right person to protect them. Except he was forgetting just how that fear helped him. 

 “Don’t you think,” She murmured, reaching out to touch his arm, “That being afraid will make you more cautious? That it could remind you to stop and think before you sent your brothers out there, or did something yourself?”

 He nodded with a sigh, “Yeah. It does. I was going to go with Virgil before John sent him on his own. I thought it would be safer than using the autopilot and wrist controls.”

 His point was right, and she made a mental note to bring it up with John later. 

 “Good,” She nodded, “So what’s the danger with sending John and Ridley to Five for a week?”

 Scott snorted, shaking his head again, “Space.” 

 It sounded like the single word was meant to answer her question. Scott must have seen the confusion on her face though as he continued. 

 “Space is the worst, it only takes one tiny thing to go wrong for everything to go wrong. And when it goes wrong, it goes wrong in a big way. Do you know how many space calls IR gets that we physically can’t respond to fast enough?”

 “What if there was a way to respond faster?”

 Val turned, wary of the voice of her second nephew at such a vulnerable moment for Scott. Not that she needed have worries, John was a master of managing his older brother and apparently knew that approaching too close at that moment was a bad idea.

 “Rids and I would watch each others backs. Plus if we were up there semi permenantly, we could respond to those calls that  would take too long otherwise.” 

 It didn’t seem to phase him that Scott hadn’t turned to look at him. From where she stood, Val could see that the oldest didn’t want to be listening to John. That he hadn’t simply walked away from the conversation was definitely promising. 

 “Dispatch are getting more calls by the day, too many for the current team to handle. Five acts as relay for the calls anyway and I’ve run comms enough times for NASA--”

 Scott turning to face him cut John off. Val stood straighter, ready for the eldest to snap at the younger. 

 “You said you needed to join as someone to fly Thunderbird Three. Now you want to sit up on the space station and run comms?”

 John shook his head, “With the space pods we could still run rescues from up there. Little Lightening would be able to manage most other space rescues, Thunderbird Three would only be needed for anything further than the Moon.” He tilted his head with a small smile, “I thought it might make it seem a little less like I was stealing Alan’s ship.”

 Val glanced to the simulator that had long since become still and quiet. She wondered where Alan had got to, if he’d heard the conversation and was simply remaining quiet, or if he hadn’t heard a thing. 

 Scott’s face fell as he sighed, looking away with a shake of his head, still clearly not convinced about the whole suggestion. 

 “This is our chance at finding Dad, Scott.” John murmured, “We can’t pass that up, can we?”

 Val would have looked back to Scott, except movement from the corner of the simulator caught her eye. Alan approached, looking to John with wide eyes.

 “You can’t live in space all the time though John! It’s dangerous. I don’t mind you flying Three, not really. I was just being a brat before.”

 John shook his head, “It won’t be all the time Alan, we’d work out a rotation or something.”

 “You’d do that?” Scott raised an eyebrow, “Actually work on rotation? You won’t get obsessed?”

 John scoffed and shook his head, “Coming from you?”

 Val could see his point, the eldest pair were as bad as one another for becoming too determined in their goals. She’d seen it before, each of them becoming obsessed with something so wholly that it took over their entire lives. 

 In her eyes Scott was the one at a higher risk of falling into that trap. 

 “I have Ridley now,” John shrugged, “She’ll keep me straight.”

 Scott’s sigh was loud in the open space, his shoulders tense as he shook his head, “If you get in to trouble out there…”

 “You can ground me for the rest of my life.” John shrugged, “We always said Scott, five of us, five ships.”

 “Best place for star gazing.” Alan murmured, eyes widening, “Hey, maybe I can--”

 “No.” Both older brothers stated, making Val snort as she shook her head. At least there was something the pair of them could agree on, even if Alan didn’t approve. 

 “So?” She prompted, “Does this mean we can get Ridley to bring the parts over when she comes home?”

 Scott shrugged and nodded to John, “Talk to him about it, she’s his girlfriend.”

 John grinned, “Oh so it’s going to be like that is it?”

 Val had to hide her snigger behind a cough as she shook her head at the pair. Yes, she didn’t doubt, it would be exactly like that.

[enragedbees]

Does He Make You Happy?

Updates Saturdays 6pm EST!

Pairing: Logicality with an opportunity for side Prinxiety

Summary: Four years after their harsh breakup, Logan and Patton reunite and reflect on their past.

Warnings: dissociation, breakup (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Words: 2540

Song rec: Dangerously by Charlie Puth (This is where I’ll suggest a song that may have influenced or inspired a scene or chapter. There’s no obligation here, but it’s available if you want it!)

A huge thanks to @prince-dark-and-stormy-night for letting me expand upon their oneshot and to @xionbean for being my beta reader!!

Taglist: @xxpeach-bobaxx @starwarsdestroyedme 

Any feedback is appreciated! :)

Next

——————————————-

Chapter 1: There’s No Forgetting You

Logan had stopped feeling the seasons changing.

        For months, he had wasted far too much time and effort on doing things that made him happy. Eventually, he realized that whatever he did had no impact on his emotions or general well-being, so there was no point in spending his already limited schedule reaching for fleeting moments of happiness. Logan’s emotions, while muted, still came and went based on his accomplishments and mindset. It was a simple cause and effect, and there was no point in messing with that system. In a way, it freed him. Without having to worry about scheduling social engagements or alone time, he could pour all his effort into his work.

        It wasn’t that he left behind a part of himself in that apartment so long ago, he so often repeated over and over again, lying in bed throughout the night, eyes wide open. It wasn’t that he was broken and couldn’t mend the shattered pieces. He was still his own person.

        It was just the product of a devastating loss he could never fully process.

        After spending so much time with someone, Logan recognized that many of the things he repeatedly experienced were inextricably intertwined with his memories. That it was easier to block out the things that caused him pain than to remember them and feel his heart breaking all over again.

        The petrichor after a spring shower was the first time they met. The color and smell of fallen autumn leaves were the same as the day when they found their perfect apartment. There were even some foods Logan could no longer eat without seeing through the eyes of his past self. So he trained himself to stop feeling. Every time he ran into something that triggered a memory soaked in melancholia, Logan pushed it out of his mind and focused on something else. Usually, it was work. Usually, it worked.

        It took awhile, but eventually Logan stopped noticing the painful memories altogether, therefore no longer noticing things like the changing of seasons or the colors of the sky. The warm summer wind that brushed over him as he walked out of his local Starbucks might as well not have blown at all. The coffee in his hand was almost certainly made incorrectly. It didn’t matter.

        Logan walked down the street toward his apartment. At 4 o’clock on the Sunday before the last week of school, downtown was flooded with high schoolers desperate for a glimpse of what their summer nights would be like in just a few short days. A few of Logan’s students from the past year waved at him from outside the frozen yogurt shop. He smiled and politely waved back, then reminded himself to finish grading the final exams from their class when he got home.  

        Logan lost himself in his thoughts, which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. He wrote a mental list of everything he had to do by the end of the day and the week, and what to put in place before school ended so setting up for the beginning of next year went smoothly.

        “Logan?”

        The sudden awakening from his autopilot stroll home startled him. He turned towards where he had heard whoever wanted to get his attention, and his stomach flipped and his mouth opened.

        A shorter man with chestnut hair stood in front of him. He wore the same black hipster glasses as Logan and a striped blue T-shirt. As Logan met his gaze, he saw the other’s eyes brighten and the corners of his mouth turn up.

        And all at once, Logan’s barrier shattered, and all his feelings came flooding back.

~8 years earlier~

        Logan usually loved the rain. It was always a calming presence, a quick way to wash off any doubts or anxieties. The sky greyed and the air went cold and sweet the morning of his first day at a new job in a brand new city and Logan thought it was a good sign.

        He didn’t realize it would make navigating the already confusing city even more difficult.

        Fresh out of college with a degree in elementary education, Logan wandered downtown with a less than helpful map on his phone, sipping a bland coffee for the caffeine. He thought that the community center he’d be tutoring a small class in was a short walk from his new apartment, but he was on the street it was supposed to be located and couldn’t see anything telling.

        Logan sighed in exasperation. Staring at his phone, he wheeled around, and immediately slammed into another person walking out of the coffee shop. They both dropped their drinks and they splattered everywhere.

        “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Logan tried to help pick up the mess as the other also apologized profusely. The stranger shuffled some papers and filed them away in his bag as Logan picked up and wiped off his coffee-speckled glasses.

        “Let me buy you another drink,” the two said in unison. They looked up at each other and laughed sheepishly.

        “Or we could both just get ours again,” offered the other, eyes shining and smile effortless. Logan was suddenly very aware of the coffee all over his jacket and the dark circles inevitably underneath his eyes. He smiled back, his face flushing a little, and tried to mess with his hair.

        “I promise I’m usually more aware of my surroundings,” Logan said, handing the stranger the last of his dampened papers. “I’m just having some trouble navigating this labyrinth of a city.”

        The other laughed again, and Logan couldn’t help but catch the contagious positivity this man seemed to constantly carry. “Yeah, I’ve lived here my whole life, and if you don’t know already know how to get around you’re basically screwed. If you need some help, I can point you in the right direction.”

        Logan didn’t like to ask for help. But he wanted to spend even a little more time with the stranger. He also really had no idea what he was doing, and knew that he’d never get to where he needed to be without some assistance.

        “Actually, that would be greatly appreciated. Thank you.”

        “No problem!” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Patton, by the way.”

        Logan shook Patton’s hand. “Logan Schlenke.”

        “So, Logan, where are you headed?” Patton asked as they both walked back into the coffee shop and got in line.

        Logan looked down at his phone. “I’m trying to get to the Brighton Community Center on 3rd Street. I’ve been up and down this street, but the buildings start at 400 and the center is supposed to be 56.”

        Patton nodded in understanding. “Yeah, it’s on the other 3rd Street.”

        Logan raised an eyebrow.

        “The courthouse splits the street in two, but instead of renaming the pieces into East 3rd and West 3rd, they kept two separate roads with the same name,” explained Patton.

        “That seems unnecessarily complicated. Wouldn’t it have saved time and effort to rename the streets?”

        “You would think.” Patton picked up his coffee. “Anyway, you’re just on the wrong 3rd.”

        “I’m supposed to tutor a class there in half an hour! How far away is it?” Logan’s mind started churning, trying to come up with adjustments to the plan he had carefully crafted for the day.

        “No worries, it’s about a 15 minute walk from here. I’m actually headed that way myself, I can walk you there if you’d like,” Patton said, holding the door open.        

        Logan’s heart skipped a beat. “I would appreciate that. Knowing myself, I’d just get lost again.”

        Patton chuckled. “You can’t miss it. It’s a straight shot from here.”

        “That’s never really been my strong suit, either.”

        Patton laughed again, really laughed. Head back, eyes closed, and Logan flushed with pride, knowing that Patton’s laughter was because of him. They talked easily the whole walk, and when Logan reached his destination, they exchanged numbers.

        “Just in case you have any more navigation troubles,” Patton explained.

        They both knew it wouldn’t be used just for navigation help.

        After that, they were inseparable. Nobody really expected it to last long, least of all the two of them. From the outside, it was an interim relationship; someone to vent to after a long day, to bring as dates to other people’s weddings. But as one year passed, then two, they continued strong.

        Logan’s friends would say that he was happiest when Patton was around. Friends of Patton would say Logan brought the best out of him. Even though they seemed to be complete opposites, they fit together naturally and comfortably.

        Logan had wondered many times over if the situation would have changed had they taken their bond more seriously when they first met. If they hadn’t dismissed their differences as opposites attracting, if they had taken action to resolve the conflictions early on or if they had decided to part ways earlier, if they made sure they wanted the same things out of their futures. If.

        If only.

        Logan would talk about the different apartments, homes, condos he could inhabit in big cities across the country, and Patton never even thought to mention wanting to stay put and live close to his family. Patton would mention how he’d raise his future kids and Logan only thought about how much easier it would be for him when he didn’t have to deal with taking care of children.        

        But when they realized they couldn’t fit into each other’s envisioned futures, it was too late. They were both too far gone.

        Logan tried to ignore it. Still, there was this constant nagging voice in the back of his head, telling him that the longer he put off dealing with their problems, the harder it would hit when they inevitably came to it.

        It wasn’t until Logan saw it start to affect Patton that he knew he had to get out. He couldn’t stand seeing Patton so unhappy. Logan knew what Patton wanted, and he would never take away an opportunity for him to have it. And since Logan wasn’t willing to give up what he wanted, he knew the only way to give them both a chance at happiness was to remove himself from the equation.

        So, when Patton was out of the apartment for the day, Logan took out two suitcases and started packing. He wrote a note explaining everything to Patton and left it in the kitchen. He decided to leave quickly, quietly, and cleanly. Rip off the Band-Aid. It was the option that would hurt the least.

        Or it would have been, had Patton not come home early.

        Logan stacked his immaculately folded clothes into his suitcase. His heart was pounding, but he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He hadn’t heard the front door open, so he jumped when Patton burst into the room, holding the note from the kitchen.

        A beat passed as they locked eyes. Logan stared at him like a deer in headlights, trying not to shrivel up at the worry, betrayal, and unfallen tears in his gaze.

        Patton was the first to break the silence. “You’re leaving and you’re telling me with a note? You’re not even going to break up with me in person?”

        Logan tore himself away from Patton’s stare and gathered up the last of his clothes. “It was the easiest way to do this.”

        “It’s not the easy way, it’s the cowardly way! Logan, why are you leaving?!”

        Logan bit his lip as tears welled in his eyes. He couldn’t break now, because if he broke in front of Patton he’d convince him to stay.

        And Logan wouldn’t do that to Patton.

        “This isn’t going to work. We’ve ignored our differences for too long. We never should have let it go this far.” Logan tried not to be too harsh, but if Patton hated him a little bit afterwards, maybe he wouldn’t miss Logan so much.

        “What do you mean it isn’t going to work?” Patton asked, his first tear falling. “We’ve made it work for four years!”

        “And we can’t go much longer!” Logan put his head back. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. “We want different things. We can’t keep pretending like we’ll stay happy forever when we don’t envision the same future.”

        Patton now had his arms wrapped around himself, tears streaming down his face. “Logan, please –“

        “You want a big wedding, this huge celebration with all your friends and family, and I want a small, intimate ceremony! You want a house full of pets, and I only think I could handle a cat, but you’re allergic! You want to stay here so you can be close to your family and I want to travel and experience living in different places! You need someone who works a nine to five and has weekends off and I need someone who understands I can’t control my hours! You want kids and that terrifies me!”

        “We don’t need to have any of that! I’ll change, if that’s what you want. Is that what it’ll take to get you to stay?!”

        “No!” Logan finally turned to look at Patton. “I don’t want to change you! I want you to find someone who’ll give you what you want! I want you to have a life where you have what makes you happy, and I can’t give that to you. I’d never forgive myself if I took that possibility away from you!”

        Patton shook his head incredulously. “Logan, you make me happy! Why won’t you believe that I would give up all that to be with you?”

        Logan picked up both his suitcases and walked out of the bedroom. “I won’t make you happy if you give up what you want for me. I promise, this is for the best.”

        Patton stood in his way, the complexion so often smiling being morphed by his heartache. “Why do you get to decide what’s best for me?! Logan, please, don’t go!”

        Logan pushed past Patton as the tears he had been holding back finally fell. He stopped at the doorway.

        “I’m sorry,” he choked out. Patton said nothing, and as the door shut behind Logan, he sobbed, sinking to his knees.

        As soon as Logan left the apartment, he completely fell apart. He walked through the lobby of his apartment building, tears blurring his vision and coating his cheeks. Drenched inside and out from the sorrow and the rain outside, he threw his bags into the trunk of his car and collapsed on the steering wheel, shaking and sobbing and hurting, hurting so completely and throughout his entire body. Logan could literally feel every part of him aching with the pain.

        He let himself grieve for a few minutes. He then forced himself to breathe and calm down. When he felt stable enough to drive, he put his key into the ignition and started the car.

        Logan thought about all the times he had left this building early in the morning, leaving breakfast on the table and a kiss on a sleeping Patton’s forehead. He forced the memory out of his mind and kept driving until he could no longer see the past he was leaving behind.

[ikesenlemonadestandstories]

Like Butter

Come one, come all to Admin T’s Birthday Extravaganza!  (which, subsequently, is the tag you can use to search for all of the stories)

Welcome to day six. Almost there! This week long party continues has been graced by Masamune! As stated in the update post earlier, linked here, I will have a short uploaded every day leading up to my birthday. So feel free to check out who’s next.

*Casual side note about this one. You have no idea how I agonized over the creation of vanilla extract...and how to substitute baking powder/soda, yikes folks, finally figured out a way around it though!*

Thanks for stopping in, I hope you enjoy the read! All of my other Ikésen works can be found on my Master List, feel free to drop by anytime. My door’s always open.

A super big shout out and thank you to @naiyabladesinger​ for all the beta work done on these! Fixing my run on sentences is a monster task!

Also tagging @little-mini-me-world​.

Not to keep you waiting!

Like Butter - Masamune

You spent two hours explaining the ingredients for a cake you were familiar with to Masamune. Taking extra care to be describe their texture and taste to help him find the Sengoku alternative. You sent Masamune off with a list, trusting him on his own, but you were starting to get worried. He had been gone for almost half the day and you were starting to wish you had gone with him. Instead you stood in the kitchen near this time period’s equivalent of an oven, stoking the fire, making sure it didn’t go out. You weren’t sure what 350 degrees Fahrenheit looked like but, you were confident you could eyeball it.

Masamune all but crashed into the kitchen moments later.

“Alright lass, I hope this is everything, because I don’t think they’ll let me back there for a while.”

“Why? What happened? Are you okay?” I rushed over to help him with the baskets of ingredients

“Of course I’m fine, I just cleared out all of the European stock...you said this stuff is commonplace in your time?”

“Yup~” you answered musically as you got several different sized ceramic bowls out.

“Alright then Kitten, let’s do this.” He said as he clapped his hands together.

Masamune cracked six large eggs into a bowl and started mixing them together with the yuzu juice. You eyeballed about three cups of sugar and flour, two tablespoons of salt, and zest from two yuzu into another. Butter sat in a third, larger bowl, softening, as milk boiled in a ceramic container on the fire.

You moved the dry ingredients into the larger bowl with the butter and began to mix them together with a paddle, gently stirring them together until it was well blended. Masamune busied himself with a whisk while you gradually added the wet ingredients into the bowl. Once everything was mixed together you gradually added the warm milk, slowly though, so you didn’t accidentally cook the eggs in the batter.

Taking the rectangular metal bread pan from the basket of goods Masamune had bought at the market, you greased it with some butter and poured the mixed batter into it.

“Hey Masa, wanna taste?” he looked at you, lifting an eyebrow in confusion.

“I didn’t think we could eat it as a liquid?” both a comment and a questions all at once.

“Technically you’re not supposed to. Raw eggs can be bad for you. When I was younger, the best part of making a birthday cake with my dad was when I got to lick the batter off the spoon or whisk. It was like a preview of what was to come!” you held the spoon out to him. He had been unnaturally quiet throughout the entire process. Taking notes here and there, watching the process intently so he could recreate it on his own later.

He took the wooden spoon from you and cleaned the batter off the front side before handing it back to you.

“The cake’s for your birthday, it would be bad form if I took away the best part.” he smiled one of his brightest smiles as you made quick work of the rest of the batter.

“That was pretty good, just the right amount of sourness.”

“I agree.” You smiled at him as you made your way toward the oven. “I was a bit nervous about using yuzu instead of lemons.”

“Care if I take another taste?” His single blue eye twinkled with mischief as he slowly walked closer to you.

---

The hardest thing to find had been the butter, and even then it had been a ‘made to order’ sort of situation. There was only one trader that Nobunaga knew of that specialized in dairy products. Since they weren’t that popular here, I had used up every drop of the poor guy's cream supply. Then, I had to sit with this cream in a seal-able jar and shake the thing for what felt like a lifetime, switching with Nobunaga every so often, until the contents felt more solid than liquid. As if the shaking wasn’t enough, we still had to pour out all of the contents through a ‘colander’ (is what you had called it)...to make sure we only got the butter.

Despite all of that, every bit of today’s shopping trip had been worth it when I saw you smile. Happily mixing the ingredients together while you hummed a simple unfamiliar tune. It was captivating and I found myself wishing you would come cook with me more often.

My daydream was interrupted when the wooden spoon coated in cake batter was held out under my nose. “Hey Masa, wanna taste?” Interesting, I was certain this dessert had to be cooked before we could eat it.

“I didn’t think we could eat it as a liquid?” I questioned, growing more curious about it with every passing minute.

Taking time to describe the dangers of eating raw eggs before they divulged a childhood memory of baking cakes with their father as I took the spoon. I could imagine them, much younger than they are now, impatiently bouncing around the kitchen waiting for a taste of the batter. I sat and listened intently as I licked clean one side of the wooden spoon I was given. I can’t very well sit here and listen to them tell me this was ‘their favorite part’ and not leave some for them on their birthday.

The sharp acidic flavor of the yuzu stuck out but wasn’t overwhelming, it settled into the sweetness of the sugar and was cut rather well in all of the butter. I complimented the recipe before they walked over and placed the pan in the oven.

As they turned to look at me I noticed the tiniest bit of batter had made a home for itself on their cheek. “Care if I take another taste?” The looked over their shoulder at me confused. Trying to figure out where I could be going with this. Stepping forward I took them into my arms and licked the drop of their face. Their eyes went wide before they smiled leaning up on the balls of their feet to give me a kiss.

“Sorry, I couldn’t let you take the last of it for yourself. Hope you didn’t mind sharing”

“Not if that’s how we’re gonna share Lass.”

---

It was the hardest lemon pound cake you had ever worked for, and it technically wasn’t even a true lemon cake. Though it’s not like they had lemons in the Sengoku, Yuzu was close enough, so you know...when in Rome I guess. Between constantly stroking the fire to keep the heat even and vigorously mixing the leftover cream with the cooked down sugar to get an even whipped icing you were just beat.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had baked this hard, and you would forever be grateful to every single cook and confectioner of this time period, along with all of the cushy modern assistance you had been granted up until today.

The entire kitchen was perfumed with the scent of the Yuzu cake about twenty minutes into the baking process but had clearly wafted throughout Masamune’s manor as the day went on. Every so often a different retainer of Masa’s would swing by, drawn in by the scent of the cake. Being around it all afternoon, you had grown accustomed to the pleasant aroma but the moment it came off the fire and was sitting right in front of you, your stomach made a fool of you, growling audibly through the kitchen.

Masamune howled next to you before his own stomach talked back, leaving the two of you clinging to one another as you doubled over in laughter.

---

It had taken a great deal of patience but somehow you had made a birthday cake. You sat at one large table in the main hall with everyone passing out slices, happy to share with your friends. Everyone’s faces lit up as they dug in, enjoying the new texture of the foreign dessert.

“This is great lass, you gonna make one every year?” you favorite one-eyed stud asked. Before you could respond Nobunaga jumped in to answer for you.

“Of course they will...I’d also like to see it at each of our birthdays as well. Provided we can get the ingredients?” he looked over at you, daring you to argue. You let out a breath and smiled up at everyone.

“Sounds good to me. But Masamune has to help” you wiggled your eyebrows at him and he pounced, collecting you in his arms, leaning in to plant a kiss on your cheek.

“Of course I’ll help Kitten, you can’t be the only one to have all the fun!”

“Oh take it somewhere else before I choke on my cake.” Ieyasu grumbled as Mitsunari cooed beside him.

“Fine by me.” and he whisked you off your feet, cradling you in his arms, as he raced back to his manor. “Let’s go see if you’re as sweet as that cake.”

[hakuyamazakisensei]

For Eevee on her Birthday!!

I hope you like this little drabble, featuring your best boys! <3 @eheartangel

And thank you @kondo-hijikata for beta-reading! :)

Shinpachi pulled a bandana from his back pocket and mopped his brow. His bare torso glistened with sweat in the afternoon sun, and he muttered a string of curses under his breath about the scorching heat. Taking a moment to relax, he surveyed his work with a critical eye; the roof was more than three-quarters of the way shingled, but it would take him the remainder of the day to finish if help didn’t arrive soon. Just as that thought occurred to him, the sound of a vehicle pulling into the drive caught his attention. Shin stood from his crouched position and moved closer to the edge of the roof. Peering down, he watched Hachiro Iba step from his small car and look around.

“Oi, Hachiro! Up here.” Shin shouted at the younger man, whose startled green eyes swept upward to the rooftop.

“Shinpachi-san! Are you up there alone?”

“Yep! Sano and the squirt were busy this morning so I’m by myself today.”

“Isn’t that a bit foolhardy? What if you fell?”

Shin raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. “Are you callin’ me a fool, Hachiro?”

Iba craned his neck upward and flashed a sheepish grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Not at all! But you have to admit, it’s dangerous to be up there with no one around to call for help if you fall.”

“Fall? Me?! You must be joking. I’m more agile than a cat!” He clambered down the ladder two rungs at a time and trotted over to Iba with a grin. “What are you doing here, anyway? I know you weren’t planning on climbing up there with that busted arm.”

Iba shook his head a bit dejectedly and said, “No, I’m just here to check on progress for Toshi-san. He wants to keep Kondo-san updated himself.” He paused for a moment and then admitted sheepishly, “And Shiori wanted me to remind you that you had a date with Etsu tonight.”

“I know that! I’ll be ready in plenty of time.”

“Well, you said that the last time, too, Shinpachi-san. And I was the one who had to listen to Shiori trounce your name into the dirt for forgetting.”

Shin chuckled and threw an arm around Iba’s shoulders, careful not to jostle his broken arm. He moved toward the porch, propelling Iba along with him.

“I promise, I won’t forget. Etsu is really looking forward to tonight, and I’ll be damned if I let her down.”

Iba nodded and relaxed, his good-natured smile returning immediately.

“I’m hot as hell! How about a cold drink while I bring you up to speed on the house?” Shin asked, plopping down on one ice chest while scrounging around in another.

“Do you have anything sweet?” Iba asked, peeking into the cooler with interest.

“Yeah, I’m sure Heisuke has something in here. I don’t know how you two do it. Sweet and heat do not go together, my friend!”

Iba laughed as he reached in and grabbed a can. “What about this?” he asked, holding it up for Shin’s inspection.

“Nah, that’s kind of bitter. Let me see....” Shin reached in and dug around until he found what he was looking for, then passed it over to Iba. “This stuff is so sweet it’ll make your hair curl. Heisuke loves it.”

“Cream soda? I’ve never tried it.”

Shinpachi grabbed a sports drink and watched as Iba popped the top off his soda and took a tentative sip. His eyes lit up and he took another drink, causing Shinpachi to laugh.

“Yeah, I figured you’d like that one. So tell me, Iba. How are things with Shiori? Getting serious?”

At the mention of his girlfriend’s name, Iba smiled, a soft blush covering his cheeks.

“Shiori....is amazing!” he told Shinpachi, his eyes alight with fondness. “I still find myself staring at her sometimes, wondering why on earth she... well, you know...why she chose me.”

“Tch, none of that shit. You know you’re a good guy, so don’t go selling yourself short. Besides, I don’t see Shiori picking some loser, do you?”

Iba expelled a breath but had to agree. Shiori wouldn’t choose a loser. He shook his head and looked around at Kondo-san’s newest purchase.

“So tell me how things are coming along here. It looks like you’ve gotten quite a bit done since the last time I dropped by.”

“We only have the shingling and touch-up work to do now. Kondo-san will be able to move in next week!”

The two men shared a brief moment of amused silence as they each thought of their boss. He was a tender-hearted man, and had immediately set out to build a larger house once he learned that he had been accepted as a possible foster parent. He had wanted to ensure he had ample room for the child —or children— who came to his home.

“That’s great news! Toshi-san will be very glad to hear it. You know how much he enjoys being able to share positive things with Kondo-san.”

“Ha, yeah, though he’d never admit it. I guess he thinks we’re too blind to see that he’s just a big softie at heart, eh?”

Iba spluttered his drink. “Don’t let Toshi-san hear you say that!”

Shin laughed and slapped Iba on the back. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the “Demon”?”

“What? No, but I don’t like seeing him get upset all the time, either. It isn’t good for him....or us.”

They finished their drinks and then Shinpachi gave Iba brief tour of the completed house. It was a large 5 bedroom, three bath structure, with one of the largest back yards either man had ever seen. Kondo has specifically requested that when he first set out to find the perfect spot for his new home. There were already swings and slides set up, and a large sandbox in the center of the yard. Near the back fence, an area had been set up for badminton, tennis, or volleyball, and along the other side of the yard, nets had been set up for soccer or lacrosse. The only thing missing was a pool, and Kondo had been adamant that there not be one; his fear of one of his foster children drowning making him put his foot down on that one.

Iba took notes as they walked around, chatting constantly while Shin strolled beside him. Once they returned to the porch, Iba shook Shin’s hand and then headed out. Shin took out his phone and checked the time —just past three in afternoon. He looked at the sky, noting the cloudless blue with a mix of relief —no sign of rain— and loathing.

It was unbearably hot, and that finally made up Shinpachi’s mind. He would take the remainder of the day off. He could not be late for his date with Etsu, not after missing the entire thing last time. He still felt bad about that, though Etsu had been very forgiving. He grabbed his shirt and moved out to his pickup, tossing his tools into the truck bed before hopping inside. Before heading toward home, he dialed Sano’s number. He’d let those two idiots deal with the rest of the roof. He had plans with the love of his life.