#rather than whatever eff i was writing

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Facebook's war on switching costs

If you took a drink every time an economist used “network effects” to explain why Big Tech is so big, you’d get very, very drunk.

To be fair to economists, network effects are important to the Big Tech story.

A system is said to have network effects if it gets better when more people use it. That certainly describes Facebook — you join FB because of the friends that are already there, and then someone else joins because you’re there.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Network_effect

But network effects are how FB gets big, not how it stays big. Because even though you might join FB to talk to your friends, the reason you stay there — despite surveillance and FB’s many abusive tactics — is that leaving FB will cut you off from those friends.

There’s no technical reason you couldn’t stay in touch with FB friends without being an FB user. You can switch phone companies or email providers without walking away from the family, community and customers you’re connected to.

FB deliberately engineers its system to block “interoperability” — the ability to plug rival services into its network.

Interop would let non-FB users connect with FB users, and make it so FB users don’t have to choose between their community and Facebook’s abuses.

The economist’s term for this is “switching costs.” A “switching cost” is whatever you have to give up to switch between products or services — switching from Audible to a rival platform would cost you all your audiobooks, for example, thanks to Audible’s DRM.

Facebook deliberately engineers its products to have high switching costs so that it can impose more pain on its users without losing them. So long as the pain of staying is less than the pain of leaving, Facebook calculates it can maintain its dominance.

Network effects are how Facebook attracts users, but switching costs are how it holds them hostage.

The higher the switching costs, the bigger the shit sandwich Facebook can force you to eat before you leave.

That’s why interoperability is such a big deal — because it lowers the switching costs. If you can take your apps or friends or files or media with you when you leave a service, then the service has to treat you better, lest you depart.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

Now, I’ve been accusing Facebook of deliberately raising its switching costs for years, based on the obvious external evidence of this conduct. But to be honest, I didn’t have any proof that this was going on…

…Until now.

In its amended antitrust complaint against Facebook, the FTC draws on the internal communications it compelled Facebook to give up in order to build up a factual record of FB’s abuse of switching costs, which go all the way to CEO Mark Zuckerberg.

https://www.ftc.gov/system/files/documents/cases/ecf_75-1_ftc_v_facebook_public_redacted_fac.pdf

I published a collection of these for EFF’s Deeplinks blog, under the title, “Facebook’s Secret War on Switching Costs.”

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

Here’s some highlights:

Para 87: Zuckerberg’s M&A chief writes to him to say, “imo, photos (along with comprehensive/smart contacts and unified messaging) is perhaps one of the most important ways we can make switching costs very high for users…

“…if we are where all users’ photos reside because the upoading [sic] (mobile and web), editing, organizing, and sharing features are best in class, will be very tough for a user to switch if they can’t take those photos and associated data/comments with them.”

Translation: “I figured out a way to get our users to eat a very large shit sandwich indeed. Just take all their family photos hostage!”

Para 187: An exec explains how FB is preventing G+ from succeeding: “[P]eople who are big fans of G+ are having a hard time convincing their friends to participate because…switching costs would be high due to friend density on Facebook.”

Translation: Our users would rather be on G+ but we’ve stopped them because leaving means leaving behind their friends, because we won’t interconnect with Google’s service.

Para 212: One of Zuck’s execs sends him a memo reading, “ if we are where all users’ photos reside . . . will be very tough for a user to switch if they can’t take those photos and associated data/comments with them.”

There’s that shit sandwich again.

I’m so excited to see this stuff in the FTC complaint — not because it vindicates me (it was obvious that this was going on, though having the receipts is nice), but because it suggests that US antitrust enforcers are homing in on switching costs as an anticompetitive force.

The problem with the network effects story is that it’s a counsel of despair: “Well, this company has attained scale and now there’s no way they can lose.”

That’s bullshit. You don’t search Altavista with your Cray.

Network effects inflate services, but low switching costs let the air out again. Interop is the escape valve that keeps big tech firms from sucking up all the oxygen and asphyxiating their rivals.

[thecreedsgambit]

Sam Dalton, CEO

author's note: i’m not entirely sure what it is that draws me to sam, but i actually enjoy the nanny affair. despite my uppity claims that i would turn my nose up at the plot (which i, in fact, do) and that i would deny choices the satisfaction of spending endless amounts of diamonds on smutty, indecent scenes with a completely fictional man (which i, in fact, do not do), i cannot ignore my attraction toward sam dalton. it has little to do with his personality and intent. quite frankly, i blame it on the soundtrack. there’s a particular track that’s smooth - almost sexily playful - like a steamy but timid caress that throws a casual smirk at potential and possibility. i’ve grown fond of it, and, of course, it’s the very track that plays when sam freshly enters any scene. so, yes, i completely blame the soundtrack. it’s possible i’ve somehow drawn a loose connection between it and sam. whatever it is, i will continue to read tna and roll my eyes at choices seemingly unobstructed ability to rope me into whatever they present me with (much like sam dalton, i suppose).

"for you, i'll risk it all." - unknown

00. At a Glance.

affiliate: the nanny affair

pairing: m!sam x reader

word count: 1972 (fairly short, i know. but this was poking my imagination after today's chapter. i couldn't deny myself the freedom of writing it down.)

summary: you and sam continue to make eye contact during the regatta, despite your pr plan to lie low and ‘meet-cute,’ if that’s what an outsider might refer to it as.

You had long since forgotten the races. In fact, your eyes weren’t trained on the glistening yachts before you. Instead, your gaze latched onto the picturesque waterfront. The sun’s rays bore into the blue depths beyond where you sat, casting a faint reflection that rippled with every rise and fall of the tide. Slowly, methodically, as if your eyes might blink shut at any moment, you let your gaze lazily trace the waves as they lapped against the dock and collapsed against one another, like a playful fight between two warring siblings.

As if on cue, Mason and Mickey billowed past you with a giggling Jovi in their wake. Jordan scrambled after them, sending you an apologetic smile over his shoulder, before calling - rather, begging - for them to slow down. A short chuckle escaped your lips as you returned your sights to the race before you. Your head tilted, just slightly, as the sun cradled your cheek and warmed your skin with the softest touch.

It was nice. A brief moment to rest from the pressure to look and be impressive. For once, being impressed made a rush of tension leave your already heavy shoulders. The majestic waters and stunning views were enough to draw awe and calm the seemingly desperate need to feel warranted and respected.

Your dignity, poise, and grace sloped, only slightly, as you let your shoulders drop and your hands take refuge on your wrist as you fiddled with one of your bracelets.

For just a moment, you were you. And that was enough.

“No, please. Go on, Will.” Marisol’s voice nearly wrenched you from your stupor. You straightened and resumed your position as a subtle reflection of your new peers you’d almost forgotten sat on your right. Marisol gave you an amused smirk, as if hinting for you to join her harmless teasing. “Perhaps your ramblings about the history of yachting might help me place a few bets.”

Marisol took a small sip of her wine, hiding a whimsical smile behind the tip of her glass. Will only huffed and reluctantly turned his attention back to the race. You bit your lip in an attempt to conceal the grin threatening to lace your earnest expression. You feigned a swat on Marisol’s arm before speaking.

“Oh, Will. Marisol’s only joking. I would love to hear the rest.”

With a quick turn back toward the table, Will grinned triumphantly, clearly elated. “I knew it. At least someone appreciates my genius.”

“I’m sure,” Marisol mumbled, taking another quick sip of her drink to avoid bursting into a fit of laughter.

You dared to throw a sly smirk in her direction before giving in and facing Will directly. He’d already dove into several backstories regarding yachting, each going unfinished as he hurried into the next with enough excitement for the three of you combined. A genuine smile graced your lips as you, momentarily, reveled in his enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, much like your attention on the race, your attentiveness was short-lived. As was your politeness.

For a moment, your gaze slipped once more toward the luminescent waters. You had every intention of returning to the conversation at hand and concentrating on whatever quips Marisol was currently, and once again, uttering toward Will, but your eyes regarded the crowd, instead. Briefly, ever so quickly, you made eye contact with him - with Sam.

He had long since fixed his own sights on you. Normally, your heart would flutter and your stomach would lurch at the slightest glance. Reflexively, you’d wander toward him like a moth drawn to a fiery flame, waiting to be engulfed by his very presence. Even under these circumstances, you wanted to. You wanted to make your way toward him and let your fingers get lost in his hair; public images be damned.

But everything you worked toward thus far hung over your head and your shoulders - a load almost too burdensome to carry.

Your eyes widened with alarm, quickly flitting toward Will and Marisol. Not here.

Sam stood in a semicircle with three other men, who seemed to be lost in a conversation Sam took no interest in. His arms rested at his sides, and his fingers swirled a small glass of whiskey, as he continued his ruthless - almost challenging - stare. It didn’t take long for your demeanor to falter and a restless smile dared to break your masked facade. You tried desperately not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, so you looked away, forcing yourself to come to terms with the ever-enchanting thrills of yacht history.

Except that topic was long gone, and Marisol was waving her hand at a dismayed Will. “You say that every year. Placing a higher bet on Estate Sail hardly makes things any more interesting.”

“What would you propose, then?”

You couldn’t help but to lose focus almost as quickly as you'd gained it; your entire form now rigid under Sam’s steely gaze. Sparing a quick glance in his direction, you noticed he’d done little to disguise his observation of you. Slowly, painfully so, he brought his whiskey glass to his lips and took a slow drink. His eyes never once left yours.

It was intoxicating. Entirely too heavy. Your chest nearly felt hollow as your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach and heat rushed to your cheeks.

Your own stare fell to his chest, sweeping over his broad frame as you consumed every aspect of his person. The purple button-down he wore was quickly becoming your favorite as your eyes traced his taunt muscles under the fabric. His exposed chest seemed to catch the sprawling daylight as the sun chased his neckline and washed over his tan skin with every regard to the glow of his complexion.

Daringly, your eyes fell lower until you cautiously eyed his brown belt. You wondered just how quickly your fingers could trail over each and every loop and how any such movement might elicit a delicious sound from Sam’s lips. You even ventured to imagine one of his hands working the belt off in one, swift motion -

Your eyes snapped back to his. He arched one eyebrow, subtly, as a knowing smirk crossed his seemingly neutral expression. You wavered, feeling absolutely powerless under his scrutiny. Biting your lip, you pointedly angled away from him and desperately made every attempt to heed Will’s words.

Oh just how timely that was.

“I don’t know about that. I’m sure Steffi will take an interest eventually. What about you, (y/n)?” Will’s easy smile made you relax despite how quickly your startled heart raced. You struggled to remember the last thing you heard as Will shrugged. “I know I can be a bit long-winded, but I hope you’re enjoying the races.”

“Yes, you fit right in with us now.” Marisol gave you a genuine smile of her own. “Despite what some people may think, aren’t you glad you decided to join us today?”

You maintained a steady smile as you pushed pesky thoughts of Lana out of your head. “I am. Where else will I hear the harrowing history of yachting or place a wager on anything other than Estate Sail?”

“Hey,” Will warned good-naturedly, laughing despite himself.

Marisol noticed Jovi running after a makeshift sail the twins had tied to a string and shook her head with a warm smile. She and Will turned back to discussing their children and Sterling Academy as you chanced another glimpse of the crowd. Sam still stood firmly in his spot. The men surrounding him were pointing at the yachts in the distance and making idle conversation as Sam’s attention remained on you and only you.

He offered his counterparts around him a brief nod and a clink of his glass, but it was passive. Half-hearted. His eyes bore into you with enough passion to ignite the already kindling fire within your being. You were desperate. Completely at his mercy.

And utterly annoyed by how quickly you’d succumbed to his will. You wanted to prove your ability to do the same - toying with the inevitable long enough to make him flush with desire and writhe under all that you could offer.

You could do it from here; same as him.

Suddenly, shamelessly, your previously obstructed air bent to your change in attitude as you shifted to address his gaze. You arched an eyebrow as you matched his seemingly indifferent composure. You could tell he found your sudden roused behavior amusing, but his jaw quickly feathered as your eyes now held a challenge of your own: Two can play at this game, and I usually win.

Your sudden burst in confidence swelled your chest with enough boldness to dart out your tongue, wetting your bottom lip before pulling it between your teeth.

Some part of you wanted to make the conscious effort to tune into Will and Marisol’s conversation, but their distant chattering proved what you already knew. They weren’t paying either of you any attention.

Sam’s stare grew more intense; his eyes squinting ever so slightly as he watched your every move. With a coy smirk, you moved to pick up your wine glass at a leisurely pace that you were sure would seem like a lifetime to him. Even as the tip of the glass connected with your lips, you were sure to exaggerate every motion. One quick sip left a few drops of wine chasing the curve of your mouth. Using your finger, you wiped away the remnants and brought them to your lips. Your tongue flicked against your fingertip, closing your lips around it entirely, lapping up what was left of the wine.

All the while maintaining eye contact.

Finally, with a barely concealed chuckle, Sam dropped his gaze and shook his head. Every rapid rise of his chest and tense of his shoulders proved he was thoroughly distracted. Satisfied, you turned back to Will and Marisol. Both were watching the next race with an almost unexpected eagerness.

“I told you Estate Sail would win again,” Will stated happily.

Marisol only smiled. “The race isn’t over yet.”

Feeling superior still, you wanted nothing more than to continue your game with Sam, but, when you glanced back at his previous spot, he was nowhere to be seen. You couldn’t help but to frown until Will’s eyes caught on someone behind you and called out:

“Ah, Sam. Care to join us?”

“Actually, yes.” You tried to quiet your usual disposition, avoiding any instinct to turn and gratefully accept his presence with unadulterated mirth. It wasn’t a hard thing to do. In fact, you had to shake yourself from your frozen, shocked posture long enough to glance over your shoulder. Sam stood close enough behind your seat that you could nearly feel the heat emanating from his being, rivaling even the sun’s warmth. “Do you mind -?”

You shook your head, not fully trusting your own voice but not fully committed to throwing away the careful and meticulous planning for your public appearance together either. You waved, feigning carelessness, toward the empty seat across from you. “No, not at all.”

Before he sat, Sam made it a point to glance at Marisol and Will before settling on you. “Does anyone need a refill on drinks? Perhaps another round before the next race?”

The two of you shared a soft, lingering look - one filled with knowing desire and bridled actions. You weren’t sure how you were able to retrain your urge to surge forward and grab him by his shirt collar or loop your fingers through his belt loop, or, even, how you had the strength to manage the rest of the Regatta with a practiced smile. But, then, a minute smile spread across Sam’s features.

Another coy smirk traced your lips as you shook your head. “I’m fine, thank you. Everything I need is right here.”

[tobeornottotc]

Way to treat your followers like idiots in your tags. I don’t think it’s that clear what the show is doing so I enjoy ppl discussing it, giving theories etc. that’s what Tumblr does… But rather than just giving your opinion you had to tag it with something tantamount to ‘don’t know why you idiots don’t get it, it’s not that difficult’ like you’re so SO smart about it. You’re right, it’s just a show - so maybe chill the eff out and get off your high horse about it, damn. Just be kind, “it’s not that difficult”.

To be honest I don’t actually care? Like I make it quite clear that I’m very frustrated with a lot of things when it comes to analysis and while it might sound arrogant or rude that’s just who I am if you don’t like it then please unfollow me I can say whatever I want in the tags I didn’t ask you to read the tags, that’s my own personal opinion I also didn’t call anyone idiots I said I don’t get why people don’t understand it’s not that difficult and that’s how I feel about it. I’m not going to apologise for being in my space and writing my thoughts out. I wish I was nicer or kinder but that kind of makes me silence my self and my opinions and I’m not going to do that on this blog that’s not what I created this for. I get it pushes people away fair enough I get why. But I’m not going to feel bad about it. If you hate it so much unfollow me and stop reading my posts. I’m not changing when I am for the sake of politeness. Why should I? It’s not like I’m bullying anyone I’m just saying it how it is in my perspective doesn’t mean I’m right but it doesn’t also mean I can’t say how I feel.

[emersonfreepress]

if possible can we plsss get a heidi story 🥰🥰(fluff, angst, anything i just miss her 😪) hehehe love the story cw to see more !

fine, fine... but only because this happened to come to me out of nowhere lol. generally speaking, i really can’t take general character story requests rn!

- - -

“Are you looking for something?”

At the sound of Heidi’s voice, Curt skids to a stop and backtracks several steps into the kitchen. He does a double-take at his sister lounging on the patio. His journal, the one that he's spent the last hour and a half scouring the entire stupid mansion for, is right where he swore he initially left it.

Except now, Heidi's flipping through it.

“Hey!”

“Daddy wouldn’t appreciate that you’re still writing these stories...” Heidi notes, ignoring Curt's exasperated stomps in her direction. Her brother rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever, you’re not gonna tattle to Dad. Give it back.” He reaches for the book but Heidi pulls it just out of his reach and snaps it shut just as suddenly. "Heidi..." Curt murmurs in a warning tone.

“Maybe I won’t. But you’re still not getting this back until you have Marcus apologize to Krista.”

Curt's brown eyes blow wide. “I'm sorry, what?”

“By Saturday,” she adds, holding the book in front of her to hide a teasing smirk. The twinkle in her dark green eyes gives it away, though, if her brother's sudden frown is anything to go by.

Curt scoffs and crosses his arms.

“And why the Hell should I do that?”

“Because I have your dumb journal,” she says, waving it as a reminder. Curt's frown deepens when she opens it again and flicks to the most recent page, poring over it with mild curiosity. “And it looks like you were in the middle of a thought...”

“Heidi, come on," Curt groans, posture slumping like a kid being told to clean his room." What is this even about? That thing he said back on solstice?" Heidi raises her brows, silently confirming it. "That shit’s got nothing to do with me—”

“You’re friends with Marcus.”

“I’m not friends with any of those meatheads—”

“That’s just semantics,” she sighs.

“You could just tell him yourself!”

“But I want you to do it.”

Curt groans again, nearly tearing his hair out as he pushes his bangs out of his face.

“Fine! Whatever. Can you give it back to me now, though? I really was in the middle of writing, Heidi.”

“Oh,” Heidi chuckles. “Then you’ll just have to get it done sooner rather than later, won’t you?”

“I fucking hate you,” Curt mumbles, storming off.

Heidi blows him an audible kiss and returns to thumbing through the bizarre contents of her brother’s wood and leather bound notebook. His flair for the dramatic has certainly grown since the last time she read one of these.

- - -

The very next day, Heidi, the girls, and Krista Lovell are hanging out at Jessie's house and all is right with the world. Krista has her overdue apology from her ex and Curt has his journal (and a promise of vengeance that Heidi isn't worried about). Heidi is forced to turn her attention from the weekend edition of The Emerson Examiner to the girls when the name 'Marcus' finally comes up.

“It was weird and totally random. I asked him why now when we broke up last month, but he just said it’s been bothering him.”

Madison scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“That’s what I said." Krista tucks hair behind her ear. "And then he asked to get back with me.”

Heidi listens intently despite not looking up from her paper. She did not instruct Curt to have Marcus rekindle things—that must be that idiot trying to worm his way back into her pants. She had a feeling that might happen.

“And what did you say?” Jessie asks, leaning in. 

“I told him to eff off! Of course!” Both Madison and Jessie sigh in relief. The line of tension in Heidi’s shoulders dissipates.

Good.

“Soo... Marcus is, like... single-single now?” Brooke ventures and Heidi can’t help but roll her eyes. “Actually off the market now?”

“Yeah, totally,” Krista replies, not a hint of hesitation. “Do what you want with him, I’m done. And actually, I was wondering... uhm, Heidi?”

Heidi’s brows raise and she finally sets her paper down to look at Krista. “Hm?”

“Do you think you could, like... talk to Tyler about me...?” The girl blushes slightly, a shy smile forming. Jessie brightens up next to her, looking to Heidi expectantly. “You... you said he stuck up for me that time, right?”

Heidi hums sagely, nodding. “When you went home early, Ty was the only one of those idiots to bother calling Marcus out for being an ass.”

“Do you think he might like me?” Krista asks, voice hopeful. And then her expression falters. “Oh, wait. He and Sandra are still a thing, right?”

Brooke rolls her eyes and makes a gagging sound. "Ugh. Sandra." Madison giggles while Jessie gives a disapproving frown at the gesture.

It’s a smart question. Tyler Ellsworth and Sandra Reeves are currently in the upswing of turning their toxic relationship back “on” again. Heidi's never had a strong opinion about them as a couple, but... after some brief mental and social calculations, Heidi answers Krista with a smile.

“I’ll see what I can find out.”

[spockina]

partners

i didn't know what i was doing when i started writing this, but something still came out, so i thought i'd share it with you guys. pls gimme ur thots i’m a needy hoe <3 (ps. what does the title have to do with the story? you tell me. i hate that i have to title things. thanks for understanding lmao)

a huge thank you to @theseventeenstairs​ for being the sweetest and offering me nothing but kindness.

3.3k words / fluff and buck being a dummy / buck-centric / read on ao3

-

The idea comes to him on a Monday. He’ll never forget it, because Ms. Flores is the one to put it in his head.

He’s picking up Chris when she says, smiling:

“You know, for a while I thought you and Edmundo were together,” she twirls her hair around a finger, and Buck can’t help but think, wow, she really is pretty. Why isn’t Eddie tapping that? and then he promptly deletes the thought because, one, that’s just awful and he isn’t like that anymore, and, two, well. He doesn’t want Eddie to be doing that, so…

He smiles back at her, one hand on Christopher’s shoulder, a backpack in his other hand. “Yeah, well...” he says, and waves, tugging Chris along.

Did he intentionally not give her anything? Yes. She gave him a lot, though.

He can’t stop thinking about it.

-

He needs to talk.

Eddie is, obviously, not an option.

Chimney is, obviously, not an option.

Hen has his best intentions at heart, and he knows it, but he’s not sure what he needs out of this conversation, so he doesn’t trust her not just to give him what he wants instead of what he needs.

Maddie will help, always. First, though, she’ll make fun of him and he’s not entirely sure she won’t bring Chim into the mix.

Bobby is the responsible adult figure in Buck’s life, and it comes with Athena benefits. He invites himself to dinner, and is working on an excuse to stay a little longer than usual, but as soon as dinner’s over, Harry’s off into his bedroom, and Buck laughs. Pre-teens. He’s not looking forward to when Chris becomes one.

“Out with it, Buck,” Athena says. “You know we love you, and we’ll have you whenever, but something’s happening, so talk to us.”

He sighs.

“I. I, uh, I love Eddie?” It sounds like a question, he knows, and he grimaces. Ugh, this is so awkward.

“Sweetheart,” Athena says, voice soft, “I don’t know how to put this kindly, because you sure look like something’s happening inside, but, um… We know.”

“Is there something else you need to say? You can open up, we’re not going to judge you,” Bobby adds, and Buck loves them.

“Yeah. Yeah, I need to talk.”

-

He feels better after talking about it, even if just a little. Sure, he’s not ready to do anything about it just yet, but having some of the weight off his shoulders is a huge help.

Christopher tugs at his sleeve. “Bucky, Elsa is about to freeze! Pay attention,” he stage-whispers, and Buck can’t help a chuckle.

“Sorry, bud,” he whispers back, settling more into the couch, feeling Chris pressed into his side, sandwiched between him and Eddie.

Interesting things are happening in the magic forest, but more important things are unravelling inside of Buck’s mind. Like, how he can’t see himself anywhere but here. How it’s a perfectly fine Saturday evening and he’s at Eddie’s house, watching a kid’s movie with a ten year old, and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. How he made dinner, and then the dishes, in a house that isn’t his, but feels more like home than anywhere else he can think of. How maybe he’ll put Chris to bed, or maybe he won’t, and it doesn’t matter, because other evenings will come where he will put Christopher to bed. How he’s wearing his sweatpants, but Eddie’s shirt, because at this point his clothes have moved, and he doesn’t know how, but at some point half of his wardrobe made its way to Eddie’s bedroom drawers. How he has a designated side on Eddie’s bed, because there’s only so much couch-sleeping one can take before just moving to the bed, and Eddie hates the wall. How they’re sitting on the couch, Eddie’s hand just barely touching the back of his neck where his arm is stretched along the back of the couch, and how he’s wishing Eddie would rest the full weight of his hand on Buck’s body.

He could never be anywhere but here, and that he once thought otherwise is equal parts dumb and hilarious.

“Hey. Are you alright?” Eddie asks, once they’re alone.

(Christopher put himself to bed tonight, which is… new. He still requested Eddie read him two chapters of his book, instead of just the one, per it being weekend rules.)

“What you mean?”

“You seem, I dunno. Far away.”

Buck shrugs, takes a swig of his beer. “Frozen 2 is an excellent movie and I’ve been deep in thought. Was kinda hoping they’d give Elsa a gee-eff, though, not gonna lie.”

Eddie snorts. “Ain’t you a funny one?”

“You know it!” Buck replies with an exaggerated wink and a million-dollar smile.

They settle on some dumb, definitely not PG-13 movie, and pretend to watch it, side by side on the couch, until Eddie turns suddenly to face Buck and blurts out:

“No, seriously, what’s going on?”

Buck stares right back, hard. “I don’t know, man, what do you mean?”

“I don’t know, Buck, you just, I don’t know, you seem odd.” A beat. “For a while, actually.” Eddie sounds unsure and Buck’s ready to give, but then he adds the rest and Buck feels himself getting on the road to get angry.

He shakes his head. “You can’t say I’ve been odd for a while and say ‘I don’t know’ with it. What. The fuck. Do you mean?”

Eddie looks surprised. “Hey. Slow down, man, I just wanna talk.”

“Then talk.”

“I’m trying, Buck, but -”

“Don’t just say I’m odd and then expect me to say shit.”

“Jesus, Buck, what’s going on, man? Did I do something?”

And… Isn’t that a wake up call?

Sure, his emotions are a mess, but that doesn’t mean he gets to take stuff out on Eddie, who is, literally, the one person who will be most affected when Buck comes clean with this whole thing.

Buck takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he looks Eddie in the eyes, and hopes Eddie can see the honesty in them.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. You’re right. It’s just… I’m. Um. Listen, I should go home. I’ve got a cleaning crew coming tomorrow, I should -”

“Don’t they have a key for that?”

“I, uh, yeah, actually, but I got a new rug I need them to be careful with. We’ll talk…?” He trails off at the end, not sure where he was going with it.

He moves around the house he knows so well. Stops by Chris’ bedroom to drop him one last kiss. Eddie doesn’t follow him as he moves around the house; stands in the middle of the living room, where they were arguing, and stays there, quiet, until Buck crosses him towards the front door.

“Text me when you get there,” he says before Buck leaves, because, fight or no fight, they still worry about each other, always.

Buck lets out a sigh of relief. He was hoping Eddie would still say that.

“Yeah, of course. Good night, Eddie.”

Driving back to his apartment doesn’t make him feel any better. It is, in fact, doing the opposite, and he feels awful.

He’s emotionally constipated, and he knows it, but it never quite led to the mess it did tonight. How come he’s in love with Eddie and still lashing out at him? Nothing makes sense and thinking makes his head throb, so he throws himself on his (lonely, cold, empty) bed, and wishes for tomorrow to come quick, so that this day can be over already.

hey made it see ya tmrw for chris’ friends’ bday i got the present sorry forgot 2 tell ya night eds 😘

He falls asleep before Eddie answers.

-

At first, he can tell Eddie’s trying.

Eddie’s doing his absolute best to pretend nothing’s bothering him when he picks Buck up, when he says good morning, when he hands Chris the present he bought for Chris’ friend. Eddie’s avoiding his eyes, sure, but that’s Buck’s punishment, he guesses, and so he’ll take it.

But then, slowly, things sort themselves out. Each passing minute makes Eddie a little less upset, and a little more open to being around Buck, accepting that maybe whatever outburst happened last night was just a one-off thing. Buck’s thankful, not for the first time and shamelessly so, that Eddie is just as emotionally messed up as Buck is; as long as things get back to their usual, he doesn’t fuss too much.

They have a good day.

Sarah’s mom is a great host. She makes sure Eddie eats cake, and is not at all covert about the way she keeps her left hand in plain sight at all times, or about the way she searches Eddie’s hands in search of any kind of ring. (At which point, Buck has to excuse himself, because there’s only so much a guy can take. When he comes back, Eddie looks up at him through his lashes, and grins not-at-all-subtle at him, and Buck has to look away, heart skipping several beats.)

He needs to do something about it, or he’ll lose his mind.

-

Buck pokes his head into Bobby’s office, knocking more as a way of announcing himself than of asking if he can actually come in. “Hey, got a minute?”

It’s a slow day -- Hen’s working out, Chim and Eddie are taking a nap, and Buck knows he won’t get another moment quiet and alone with Bobby like this for a while, so he takes it.

“Of course, Buck, do come in.”

Buck snorts, plopping down on the chair.

“I need help,” he announces after a minute of sitting there silent.

“I’ll be glad to help if I can. What do you need?”

He clicks his tongue, unsure of how to say exactly what he’s feeling, unsure if he even knows how he’s feeling. He runs a hand over his face, into his hair, back down.

“I just. Look, I love him. I need to do something about it or I’m gonna go insane!”

Bobby is looking at him intently, a sympathetic look Buck doesn’t really love. He must look miserable for Bobby to be looking at him like that.

“Listen, Buckaroo, you just need to do it. I know you’re nervous but -” he’s interrupted by Buck’s phone. He glances down to see a couple of texts from Eddie, and he can’t help his smile as he types his response.

Where are you I thought you were gonna take a nap too

couldnt fall asleep sry bobby’s office

“...That Eddie?”

What for

“Yup,” he says, popping the p.

just talking

Bobby shakes his head, clear amusement in his eyes.

“As I was saying, Mister Buckley, you just need to do it. I know it’s scary, I promise I do, but it’s going to consume you until you come out with it. Think about it, really, and not just in general terms. Think about what you want to do, how you want to do it. You know we’ll be here for you. I’ll be here for you, whatever happens.”

You should come take a nap while it’s quiet You’ll be exhausted later Chris already picked tonight’s movie LOL

yeah ur right ayyy what did he pick wait nvm be down in a min tell me when i get there

Buck nods, full attention on Bobby even if Eddie is waiting for him downstairs.

“Yeah, I’ll think about it. I mean, I think I have an idea, but we’ll keep thinking.”

“As long as you’re comfortable, take your time.”

“Thanks, Bobby. Really.”

Bobby smiles at him, small and pleased. “Anytime, Buckaroo. You know the door’s always open for you. Now go before he comes to get you.”

-

how do u feel abt a bbq

Why and when

no reason just think we havent done anything cool lately nothing that we looked forward to

Should I be offended????

what??? no!!!

I’m kidding LOL

man you suck but anyway i was thinking we could do a bbq at ur place what w the backyard and all we could have pepa and abuela ur cousins the 118 the kids make it an actual event u feel

Sure That sounds pretty nice, actually Got a date in mind?

yeah actually we all got 1st wknd june off that ok?

Yup, nothing on my calendar Just checked

great!! that saturday then

It’s a date Christopher will be so excited when I tell him

gosh i hope dw i’ll figure out something for the kids actually dont worry abt shit let me take care of this

Be my guest LOL

-

Shopping for the barbecue is exciting, and Buck can forget, for a little bit, that he’s doing this as a way to give himself the courage to take the step that will either make or break them. So he shops, and he buys a lot. He buys enough food to feed way more people than the twenty that’ll be attending, and he buys enough games and activity books that the six children will be entertained for days on end. He just wants it to be a perfect day and for the people in his life to have a good time. That’s all.

He buys one extra thing. It takes an entire afternoon, and he keeps it safe and away from his eyes until he’s ready to think about it.

-

The house is packed with everyone they love. The 118 is here, Maddie, Abuela, Pepa, two of Eddie’s cousins, one with her husband and children; the kids are running around like crazy, hyped on good food and fun music, and everyone seems to be having fun.

Buck, on the other hand, can’t seem to relax for even a second.

“You doing OK?” Eddie asks, coming out of nowhere, and Buck nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Fuck, Eddie, warn a guy!”

“Jeez, I’m sorry! What’re you so jumpy for, anyway?”

Buck waves him off. “Just sleepy. Didn’t have a good night, is all,” he replies, which is, in fact, not a lie. He didn’t get a single blink of sleep last night. At around three he gave up, and made himself a huge thermos of coffee, instead.

He knows this is the right way. He knows they need to talk, and he needs to have things out in the open, finally, so they can stop skirting around this already. It’s a risk, and a bold move, and, frankly, there’s so much on the line. Too much. But he can’t keep dancing around it as if nothing’s happening.

He’s doing it.

-

Maybe not right now, though.

He feels queasy. There’s a bubbling something inside of him; a building panic that he feels in the pit of his stomach, working its way up at a really fast pace.

“Oh, God. Bobby. What if, what if I, uh, I read the whole thing wrong and this isn’t what he wants?”

“What?” Bobby takes a step closer, places a hand on Buck’s shoulder, squeezes. “Buck, no. Listen, we all know Eddie. We see him every single day. We see the two of you. There’s no way this isn’t happening.” There’s a pause, and then, almost as if he can’t help himself, Bobby adds: “But listen, Buck. If it isn’t what he wants, you’ll still be fine. We’ll be here with you, whatever the outcome may be, OK?”

Buck nods, says nothing. He is soothed by Bobby’s words, and he’s relieved that, at last, Bobby seems to be keeping his promise of not sugarcoating things (alternately: lying). He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath.

“OK. Think I’m ready,” he says, hand firmly over his pocket as if he needs reassurance that this is real.

His voice is shaky, he knows, but Bobby doesn’t comment on it, just nods and squeezes his shoulder one more time; walks past him back into the living room, where the party is, obviously, still happening.

Buck takes a moment to look around.

He loves every single one of these people. He’s not sure when or how they became his family, but they are, and he knows he’s a lucky one. Whatever happens, he knows they’ll have his back.

He presses pause on the music that’s playing from his phone, making everyone look around confused, until they see him walking until he stops in the middle of the living room, where Eddie was, just a moment ago, talking to Abuela and Christopher, and is, now, watching him intently, confusion clear in his eyes.

“Hi, everybody,” Buck starts, and he knows he’s blushing, knows they can all tell just how damn nervous he is, but he won’t stop, now. “First, I wanna thank you all for being here today. It fills my heart with joy that we’re all here together, all the people Eddie and Christopher and I love so dearly.” He stops, looks around, offers everyone a smile. “When I decided I wanted to do this, I couldn’t - I didn’t - God. I didn’t know how to go about this, but I know I wanted everyone here.”

“Buck?” Eddie says, looking up at him with what Buck’s pretty sure is hope. Buck takes his hands, mostly because he can’t help himself with the overwhelming need to just touch Eddie.

“I hope you all know how much I love this man. And I know everyone here knows, but if you don’t, let me tell you: Eddie is the best man I’ve ever met. Eddie has the biggest heart, the strongest soul; Eddie is the best father I’ve ever seen, he’s a good friend, a kind man, a just one. A hot one, too,” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows, making everyone laugh. “But we all know that,” he continues. “I wanna tell you about the things only I know. I wanna tell you about how soft he is in the mornings. How he makes coffee just the way I like it. How he wakes Christopher with a smile, every single day. How he loves. How he cares. How he does his best, everyday, to be the best Eddie he could possibly be,” he turns to Eddie, fully, offers him a smile. “I hope you know you are, Eddie. You are the best, Eddie. And I love you. And I love you, too, Superman,” he adds, looking down at where Christopher is watching them with tears in his eyes.

This is it.

He pats his pocket, and fishes out the little box he’s been keeping safe this whole time, goes down on one knee. Hears the murmurs around them, the surprised sounds from their friends and family. Watches as Eddie grips Christopher’s hand tightly, brings one hand up to his mouth.

Now or never.

“Eddie,” he starts, but finds he can’t keep going. He takes a deep breath, starts again: “Eddie, I never knew I could love like this until you. You walked into my life, and you made a mess, and then I made a mess, but what matters is that we’ve come out stronger every single one of those times, and I hope to God there will be so many more for us to walk through.

“So, Eddie, Edmundo Diaz, will you marry me?”

Buck hopes to God he’ll never have to go through this again. He watches as Eddie watches him in silence, looking like he doesn’t understand what’s going on, and Buck wants to cry, and run, and hide, and never come back, because this is the most terrified he’s ever been in his life, and he’s been through a tsunami where he thought he’d lost Christopher, and -

“Yes. Yes, yes, of course, Buck, God, I love you, of course I’ll marry you!”

Then Eddie’s down on his knees with him, and they’re kissing, and Christopher’s right there with them, and Buck has never been happier in his life.

Surrounded by the people he loves, with the one he loves, with their son.

He knows he should think he’ll never be happier than this, but he knows he will. His future has Eddie and Christopher; every day will just be happier.

[quinintheclouds]

Thoughts on Putting Others First: SvS Redux as they come to me

AN HOUR LONG?!?!?! Y E S THANK YOU

I am LOVING this opening art style. The way it shows all the things Thomas could say and shuts them each down, the silliness tying in perfectly to the video game setting, the way we could SO STRONGLY empathize with Thomas despite him not saying anything. Well done!

“Eff friends, Patton!” Patton and I made the exact same gasp and noise at the same time in reaction to that dsjfhljdhg

Lookit Thomas’ lil vest awww <3

ROMAN WITH THE PUNS I LOVE IT APPRECIATE HIM

rhymes

rhymes

they’re rhyming is this gonna be

A SONG!!!

(Logan off somewhere watching all of this: “You guys are doing a RAP? Without ME? .....Unacceptable”)

Seriously poor Logan being left out BOTH TIMES despite clearly having excellent points on the matter

But I’m loving this Patton/Roman dynamic being explored in this way. They have a lotta similarities but the differences are really standing OUT so far and I like it! Also it looks like Roman isn’t gonna just shut up and do whatever Patton says out of fear that he’s a bad person/bad for Thomas this time. I’m glad they’re both getting a chance to talk cause they aren’t exactly taken seriously a lot of the time.

RETURN OF THE BLINDFOLD METAPHOR followed by Roman saying “in Patton’s defense...” so they like, KNOW what Deceit meant about the blindfold? Were they playing dumb? Or do they just suddenly get it now that it’s coming from Thomas?

Ok this Feral Cat Story of Roman’s is too specific for me to dismiss and now I’m convinced either Remus brought a shitton of cats home one day and they just flooded their house/rooms, or Patton brought home a bunch of cats out of love and didn’t realize he couldn’t take care of em...either way that’s an adorable anecdote

The car jump line that Patton took literally is just making me miss Logan even more :(

I’m glad they’re giving context to the relationship between Thomas and Mary Lee & Lee! A lot of fander questions and opinions circled back to “well it depends how close they were” so it was smart of them to fill us in.

“those baby-makin’ catholics”

6:45 Patton has clearly thought through a lot of possible outcomes to talking to Lee and Mary Lee before going to the wedding... he never brought them up, even when Roman did and then Deceit did. But he’s bringing up points no one had addressed, and I think that’s a great way to put more intensity to Patton’s apology to Thomas for lying back in SvS pt 1. He hid a lot more than he let on. Man, how much guilt is this poor man feeling right now? :(

“Talking about it could have been harmful” I’m very intrigued by the parallels between Patton wanting to keep things from Thomas’ friends to protect their feelings in this episode and SvS, and Deceit disguised as Patton in CLBG trying to get Thomas to... keep things from his friend to protect their feelings...

WOAH “But was it worth it? I don’t--” “No.” Thomas cutting Roman off with that much certainty DAMN Thomas REGRETS going to the wedding HARD and also is agreeing with Roman finally??

Patton: “sometimes you can make all the good choices, and still not get the good ending.” Thomas: “I’m not even sure there was a good ending to get.” Roman: “Mmmm, I’m pretty sure there was.” There is so much to unpack here oh my gosh.

WOAH WOAH WOAH WHAT??? DAMN THOMAS CAME FOR PATTON WHAT ON EARTH??? Patton: “I think we can all agree that you are a good fellow.” Thomas: Can we? ALL? Agree on that?” Patton: *sputtering noises*

Poor Patton... I mean they’re right but gosh I feel for him. He wants so badly for Thomas to be a good person and he realizes now how strict and unyielding he’s been, and wants to not do that but doesn’t know how to be more lenient without sacrificing integrity cause that’s his JOB and he doesn’t know how to do it better aaaa this is such a mood

MUSIC IS THERE ANOTHER SONG COMING?

Return of the bagel. Except this time it’s Roman guessing/wanting the bagel and Patton being like “what? no?”

ok not a song but video game style is back!!

“ugh you’re such a dad” I love it

Patton just made more puns and Roman omg “Like, you’re SUCH a dad that like it’s too much to handle sometimes”

I am loving this whole scene jdfhjadshg Patton ily and I relate

Thomas and Roman teaching Patton how to come up with imaginary scenarios skjfklsjdfh

Sondheim wrecking Leslie Odom Jr is such a hilarious visual

Ok all three of them are peak dumbass and I’m so here for it (like they’re smart and all but they’re peak dumbass)

Daaaamn Patton is letting out so much this episode. Like he’s been holding back but wowie. R: “Just like how you didn’t HAVE to give him a hotdog” P: *sucks air through his teeth* “I feel like you kinda do though?” YES PLEASE let’s discuss the concept of obligation in morality again!!! Where’s Logan when you need him? Or Deceit even? (I feel like D’s gonna show up later but I wanna hear Logan’s thoughts this time too)

Patton: You can disagree! But... it’d kinda be wrong?

LOGAN POPUP! Ok fine if he isn’t in the ep at least he pops up in a lil dialogue box on screen. Also he popped up to support Patton... neat!

“It’s just me, Logan. I’ve taken this form because I didn’t want to be too...invasive.” POOR LOGAN NO YOU’RE NOT INVADING ANYTHING YOU HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO BE HERE! Also Roman getting scared by the popup while Patton just waves happily like he always does upon seeing Logan aww

Okay I am getting serious DOPAMINE from Logan talking. Like, he’s spittin’ FACTS. Something about the way he talks is so interesting and soothing and makes me so excited to LEARN. Roman mockingly mouthing ‘behoove’ had me snort though XD

LOGAN AND I WERE IN UNISON HELL YEAH! Patton was all like ooh you’re sharing your lil factoids! And Logan and I at the same time corrected, “Facts,” and proceeded to state the definition of factoids (we worded it differently but yeah as usual Logan is on my wavelength)

Logan’s sprite getting so disappointed at Thomas’ interruption joke jgdkjghks he looks so DONE

OML I LOVE LOGAN’S DIALOGUE BOX TALKING TOO FAST FOR THEM TO READ THIS IS SO ACCURATE

Oof Thomas finally feeling like he GETS it and Patton being like yeah but not if you’re doing it bc you want to feel  good tho... (also that’s the same argument Deceit made in SvS pt1??? I’m confused by Patton/Deceit’s functions lately and I’m very invested)

Oh ok Thomas just brought up that very point haha

“we all agreed the right thing to do was go to the wedding” um are u sure about that

“I was wrong” PATTON CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT?? I know Logan has the reputation of not being able to admit when he’s wrong (which isn’t true -- he doesn’t like to but he has done so countless times...well not literally countless but you understand my meaning), but Patton rarely is in a situation where he has to, so this is jarring in a hopefully good way. Istg if this is Deceit disguised as Patton again I’ll be so disappointed... I feel like the writers wouldn’t do that though

Patton: says smth deceit said. Roman: and you...agree? Patton: Definitely! I mean uh maybe? (WHAT IS HAPPENING INSIDE PATTON’S HEAD RN SO MUCH TURMOIL)

Roman: “I’m not an expert in the... moral medium” Thomas:  “Go ahead Roman, we wanna hear what you have to say.”  Patton: *halfhearted gestures and noises for roman to go ahead* jashfjdh he’s trying so hard

AWWWW they’re validating Roman so much I love it

“whomstsoever” ok I take it back roman’s not valid

I adore Logan’s popup fun facts, and him giving definitions for Roman’s vocabulary reminds me how much the two of them love writing and poetry and language aaaa

Patton trying not to be harsh is somehow 10x harsher than he normally is

oh wow that got real.

I know I’ve said this but I love logan’s insertions... but I do wish he got to say them out loud like earlier :/ Pausing to read them is less fun than hearing him talk.

oh wow that got real part 2

I want. So badly. To jump into this video and debate Patton on the nature of morality and what “the right thing is.” Roman you’re not being dumb, you’re bringing up excellent points and you’re valid again.

Oh no Patton... empathy is not morality... please please address that there are people who can’t experience empathy and choose to be moral and good

THE  TROLLEY PROBLEM HERE! WE! GO!

Logan’s popups bc he doesn’t want to “be too invasive” and making them optional to read hurts my heart :( He knows Patton, Roman, and Thomas aren’t reading any of it but he doesn’t want to be too much so he stays silent. Why?? Logan it’s okay! Why is this a thing now but not in the last 2 episodes? What happened to Logan :(

OOOOOOH Patton didn’t flip the switch :o Interesting! Daaaamn he’s arguing to let 5 people die rather than flip the switch so only one dies

LOGAN’S TEXTBOX WAS SO BIG AND FAST IT KNOCKED PATTON OVER I CANNOT BREATHE hang on I gotta read it

HE’S TALKING ABOUT DEONTOLOGY YES LOGAN THANK YOU FOR TELLING PATTON WHAT I PHYSICALLY CANNOT please tell me you’ll talk about utilitarianism and moral particularism next

Okay he used consequentialism but it’s close enough to utilitarianism that the outcome is the same. (Do you get it? Do you like my joke about how the outcome is most important? When we’re talking about-- oh you got it already? Good, moving on.)

DID ROMAN JUST FJCKING KILL LOGAN

“I’m okay, figment of your imagination, so.” Okay so CAN the Sides get hurt or can’t they?? Cause Patton clearly got bonked, roman got hit in the eye with paper and said ow, but logan got hit in the head with a throwing star and had his teeth ripped out and he was totally fine?

 Thomas is being so HONEST with himself so early in the episode, wow this is refreshing and I’m hype

AW YAY Patton called textbox Logan in to help with philosophy yay :’)

Logan: “Pity seems to be at the center of your idea of ‘putting good into the world’” first, Logan doing a voice impression of Nietzsche is GOLD, and second.... I wish they’d let him finish cause I was waiting for a “but” cause Logan siding with Nietzsche on this one feels... wrong? Like I could see Dee bringing it up or Logan using it in an argument only to continue with a contradicting philosophy but Logan equating empathy to pity... idk I thought he’d grown more than to think that :/ Actually I don’t think he ever saw it that way. It feels out of character but I’m guessing he had more to say to debunk that.

HOLY SHIT PATTON SKIPPED ALL THE REST OF LOGAN’S DIALOGUE AND YEETED HIM OFF THE SCREEN bruh he may have been right and he should’ve gotten to say it >:(

ROMAN ISTG DO NOT TRY AND MAKE THIS YOUR FAULT

I SAID DON’T

GODDAMMIT

sjfkdjgjsh okay aww Thomas good job, Patton too. Thank god they’re being nice to him

Patton is having a breakdown holy heckity about time

damn Patton is freaking HARSH

“I have a difference in opinion on this one, Patton” Thomas: *relieved sigh whisper* “ohhh thank you, Logan” YES APPRECIATE THE BOY YES YES I LOVE HIM why are they looking around like he isn’t making sense?

LOGAN YES! CALL HIM OUT! LET THOMAS VALUE HIMSELF AND PUT HIMSELF FIRST SOMETIMES! “Every point you’ve made in today’s discussion has contradicted that sentiment.” I love you but also you sound a lil like deceit... very lawyer-y and feels calculated like he’s been keeping notes for this purpose... I want deceit and logan to debate already damn it. Maybe it’s just that Logan’s inflections feel reminiscent of Deceit to show...something?

Ok can I just say that Logan gets so much rep for his strictness or high standards but he’s been SO GOOD about that lately and him teaching about the importance of leisure and self-care and freedom in your life and self-esteem and valuing yourself like you do with others... not even just this  video -- he’s been like this in the last few as well and these recent episodes remind me of early Logan (esp My Negative Emotions)  and that makes my heart so so happy.

Continuation of the above, compare this to how Logan acted in Why Bed? with regards to Roman. Roman advocated for leisure time and following dreams, while Logan had a schedule that optimized productivity and health. Now he’s taking a similar stance to Roman and asserting the importance of these things... WHY is so much of Logan’s character development OFFSCREEN?? I wanna know what made him switch on this! Maybe just cause he’s listening to roman from why bed?

Why is Logan being so abrasive? He sounds like his intent is more to disprove Patton rather than state what he actually thinks... not a fan of that but he’s not wrong

WOAH WOAH TOTAL PATTON BREAKDOWN WHAT HAPPENED WHAT THE FCK HE’S A LITERAL MONSTER IN THIS VIDEO GAME?

OH, MY GOD. If Logan didn’t step in and save them here this would have been catastrophic. I can feel my relief. I mean, he screamed, but it was a relief. WAIT IT WAS DECEIT THE WHOLE TIME??? Daaaamn good job on this one Deceit and I definitely like him more now but also WHERE IS LOGAN. Was it the whole time? That makes sense in hindsight and makes me feel better about some things he’s brought up but I feel like it really was Logan at the start, it wasn’t until he started calling out patton that his voice and inflection and stuff changed

Patton trying to attack Deceit   and hitting Thomas instead was  an EXCELLENT way to  showcase the effect SvS 1 and 2 are having

Deceit’s lil “A DUH DUH DUH DOY” looked and sounded just like Logan’s lmao don’t tell me it’s another switcheroo (I doubt it greatly lol)

REAL LOGAN REAL LOGAN REAL LOGAN

So wait what was the point that Deceit switched with Logan? Cause Logan’s saying “one more fact” so he was himself earlier right?

“Not that any of you care, but  I am unharmed.” Nooooo they care </3 “I will do you all a favor and spare you my company” okay OUCH

EFFECTIVE ALTRUISM YES aw he’s talking about him and patton working together yes thank you

Damn, Deceit is LOVING everything Logan says haha same

Logan and Deceit teaming up to teach Patton that it’s okay to care about yourself

DECEIT WHAT he’s being so supportive of Roman holy heck this is so genuine OH Roman’s arguing with it  this is a lot of stuff I didn’t expect roman to say out loud wow

THOMAS JUST SAID DECEIT THE CHARACTER ISN’T INHERENTLY UNETHICAL WOW this episode really said let’s make Deceit--

WAIT WOAH SORRY HIS NAME REVEAL!!! He’s Janice?? Is that true?

WAIT WOAH PART 2 BUT DECEIT JUST SAID IF IT WEREN’T FOR THE MUSTACHE HE WOULDN’T KNOW WHO THE EVIL TWIN IS BETWEEN ROMAN AND REMUS HOLY SHIT HE ACTUALLY LOOKED VULNERABLE AND THEN HURT AND THEN RIGHT BACK TO SNAKE

ROMAN’S GONE

fuck.... patton...roman....deceit....thomas....logan....I’m gonna go cry about all of them now

LESLIE ODOM JR IS HERE??????? oh there he goes

patton oh my god I love you  this ANGST are you trying to kill me?

Patton telling thomas he’s worthy of love I actually teared up

dfjdakjhfa deceit don’t push it

Wowie that was an EPISODE

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #442

Top Ten Transformers Gimmicks

There was a time when I felt that this blog was pretty much wall-to-wall Robots in Disguise. Seems I couldn’t go more than two or three weeks without some list or another ranking my favourite Autobots, Decepticons, issues of the Marvel UK comic, issues of the IDW comic, my favourite artists, my favourite alternate modes, my favourite ways Optimus Prime came back from the dead… basically, what I’m saying is I used to write about Transformers quite a lot.

Recently, though? The last year or two? Not so much in the way of sentient mechanoids round these parts. I think partly this is a result of the ending of the original IDW continuity; whilst the rebooted Transformers comic is good, I must confess it hasn’t grabbed me the way the (for want of a better term) More Than Meets the Eye era did. I don’t think it possibly could; the interweaving continuity, the shared universe, the multi-layered world-building and puzzle-box writing, all combined to form a perfect storm around my most beloved of franchises. Did it go too deep, too dense? Occasionally. Did it end too soon, rushing into a climactic conclusion without the room to allow every plot twist and character death to sufficiently breathe? Yeah, a little. But on the whole it stuck the landing, not too shabby a feat for a galaxy-spanning epic that, under various creators, had managed to tell a more-or-less consistent story (papering over the cracks of several soft reboots) for over a decade at that point. As I’ve written before, I loved that Transformers so hard, it was almost inevitable that whatever came next would suffer by comparison, because by definition it could no longer be my Transformers.

So, yeah, that’s one reason. But another is, it’s been harder to think of things to write about. I’ve talked about favourite characters and stories; where else do I go but the increasingly obscure? However, I wanted to give it a try. Last weekend should have been TF Nation, the delightful Transformers convention held each year in Birmingham. I usually go; I gave last year a miss, but I’d been fully intending to make the trip again this year. And then 2020 happened, being all 2020 in our faces. This is a weekend where I might have shared my favourite moments from TFN! Pictures of cosplay! Of friends and creatives I admire! Of toys I can’t afford! But no; instead I’m watching my wife play Stardew Valley and writing this blog (which, I’ll be honest, is actually quite a pleasant way to spend the time, but let’s not get too deep into the weeds over here). Anyway, to celebrate TF Nation, and the stay-at-home “Big Broadcast of 2020” online show that they put on, I’m returning to the Nucleon Well once again with another Transformers-themed Top Ten.

This week: my favourite Transformers toy gimmicks!

Transformers, of course, are cars and whatnot that turn into robots or what-have-you, but across the years Hasbro has experimented with different modes and features to keep the toys fresh and unique, and also to sell a bunch of new ones to impressionable kids. Some of these are sublime; some, frankly, ridiculous. So this week I will explore my ten favourite ones; my ten favourite sub-brands of the franchise, so to speak. Some of these I think are genuinely fantastic as a concept; some, I just liked because it seemed cool, or was made cool by the fiction; and some are just daft crap that I enjoy. Make of it what you will! I’ve decided, incidentally, to focus on “gimmicks” here as being different modes of transformation, or other associated features, rather than define them by what they turn into. So there are no Insecticons or Dinobots, because whilst bugs and beasts are cool, really those are both normal types of Transformer that turn from one thing into another thing. Make sense?

Good. Now roll the eff out.

Combiners (1985): what’s better than one robot? How about, like, five or six, and they all clip together to form another massive robot? Clipping machines together to make bigger machines seems like a cornerstone of any sufficiently advanced civilisation, and whether we’re talking the complexity of OG combiner Devastator, the hot-swappable fun of the likes of the Aerialbots or Stunticons, or even Dreadwind and Darkwing combining in vehicle mode to form Dreadwing, it’s always great. Plus it makes you want to buy all the toys so you can make the big robot! Everyone’s a winner!

Headmasters (1987): robots whose heads – get this – come off and turn into little robots. What’s not to love? And the little robots (what are the heads) then can sit inside the big robots’ vehicle modes, and, like “drive” them and stuff. Although they had some plot gymnastics to perform to make sense of the fiction (quite why the heads had to be Nebulons and not just other Transformers I don’t know), but as a toy gimmick, they were fab. And that’s before you get to most-wanted Fortress Maximus, whose head turned into a robot whose head turned into a robot.

Pretenders (1988): man, I loved Pretenders, even if the concept outstripped the toys a lot of the time. Basically humanoid shells that hide Transformers, later iterations also allowed for animal shells, vehicle shells, even transforming shells; we got new versions of classic Transformers, and one of the all-time great villains in Thunderwing. All this despite the first lot of toys being bulky and awkward, and the whole idea of “disguising yourself as a thirty-foot human” being somewhat suspect in the first place.

Triple (and more!) Changers (1985): if a robot turning into a thing is cool, then turning into two things must be twice as cool, right? Right! Boggling the mind as to how this chunky figure could also be a car and a helicopter, Triple Changers were great, even if you ended up with a helicopter that really, really looked a lot like a car. Of course, they got bigger and better, with Six Changers, who turned into six different things that all looked a lot like each other.

Powermasters (1988): back to the “Masters” concept of little robots that interact with bigger robots (it’s such a shame Pretenders couldn’t have been “Disguise Masters” or something), the idea that the toys transformation – the big gimmick behind the whole range, remember – is unlocked by an “engine” robot is very cool, the smaller toy acting as a key. A tad clunkier than that, in real life, but still great fun, and of course it brought us one of the best toys of the eighties in Powermaster Optimus Prime.

Targetmasters (1987): robots turning into guns is quite cool, but for me the Targetmasters aren’t quite as successful as their other “Masters” siblings, probably because the guns aren’t quite that exciting to transform or play with. But the concept still rocks, and some of the toys were really good, and it was nice to see the Movie characters get folded into the line too.

Jumpstarters (1985): I loved the original Jumpstarters (Top Spin and Twintwist) because they were weird, with their sci-fi alien designs amidst a sea of Earth vehicles. But their gimmick was they transformed themselves. Pull ‘em back and they jump – literally – from vehicle to robot. Self-transforming Transformers are always cool, even if usually it means that their robot modes end up blocky and simple (Jumpstarters are the opposite, pretty cool robots with chunky and unreal vehicles). Also want to shout out other pull-back-and-go Transformers such as the Battlechargers (never had them, sadly) and the utterly, utterly fantastic Throttlebots. God, I love the Throttlebots. I had all six! How much did I rock.

Cities (1986): I guess now these guys are all called “Titans” aren’t they, and they have their own carved-out portion of the TF mythos. But back in the eighties, they were just big burly dudes, the biggest you could get; Transformers that turned into actual cities, playsets that the smaller Transformers could actually interact with. Metroplex was the OG city-bot, and we’d squint and pretend that he really was Autobot City from The Transformers: The Movie. Huge toys are always fun, of course, as are playsets for your other toys, so these ticket loads of boxes. Fortress Maximus, the later Autobot Headmaster base, was ginormous and never came out in the UK, giving him a mythic status few toys ever had; as I said above his head turned into a robot which had a head that turned into a robot, a sort of Babushka doll of robotic head-swapping. Shout-out too for any bot who had some kind of “base mode”, such as Powermaster Optimus Prime and his funky trailer.

Sparkabots/Firecons (1988): these were not necessarily the most fun toys to transform (the Sparkabots, anyway, I never had a Firecon), but their gimmick was cool – or rather hot. They breathed fire! Well, not really, of course; they sort of shot sparks, in what I thought was a slightly underwhelming fashion even as a seven-year-old. But having a Transformer that could, in some way, fire for real was a huge thrill. Also, Guzzle was always just legitimately cool.

Action Masters (1990): yep, I’m going there. What, did you think I’d have Micromasters on here?! Yeah, okay, the very concept of Transformers that don’t transform is inherently silly and counter-intuitive, but the toys themselves were cool, finally offering cartoon-accurate renditions of classic favourites, with nice articulation and fun vehicle playsets. There was definitely a sad sense of a brand in decline about them, but taken on their own, they were good, fun toys, full of character, and I’ve always thought they’d still be cool as a side-line to the main (actually transforming) toys.

I feel bad for slagging off Micromasters up there. They were good, I suppose, but their small fiddly nature and basic transformation just wasn’t as fun as some other toys. Plus there were so many, and they usually came in sets, so I never really had that same bond with individual characters that I got from other Transformers; they were probably the first toys I owned whose names I forgot. And they felt, even at the time, like such a response to Micro Machines that it was almost embarrassing. Action Masters were probably a response to Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles but at least, y’know, Soundwave didn’t come with nunchucks and a skateboard.

Anyway, I think we can all agree, Transformers are cool, and I should write about them even more.

[literaticat]

I started my manuscript at a time when there were less books starring poc in mg and yg. So I made my mc caucasian because honestly, I thought I'd have a better shot of publication. Times have changed! I think about rewriting my work, but I'm attached to my mc as I've spent so much time with them. Might an agent or publisher side eye me if I had a non poc as my protagonist and I'm a poc?

I’m conflicted about this answer because, on the one hand - YOU SHOULD HAVE TOTAL FREEDOM TO WRITE WHATEVER THE EFF YOU WANT TO WRITE! *sets off confetti* You love your main character, yay! 

On the other hand - past-you identified a problem in kids books - there are not as many books starring POC --so your thinking (this question suggests) was, like, OK, it seems white characters are more popular, so let’s make the MC white, so I’ll be more likely to be published. Which, I get why you might have come to that conclusion.

The problem is actually deeper than just “not as many POC characters” though -- The problem is that there are not enough books starring BIPOC kids by BIPOC creators. And that’s something I think a lot of publishers are (hopefully!) actively trying to change. So it’s not that they would give you the side eye -- it’s more like I could see them thinking.... like, we already have ten trillion white characters, and white authors writing BIPOC stories -- what we NEED, is BIPOC creators telling BIPOC stories.

Now, that’s flawed thinking, too, of course - what they NEED is more BIPOC creators telling ALL kinds of stories, rather than being pigeonholed into only certain kinds of narratives. We’re getting there.

None of this philosophy really helps with YOUR question though. SO. I guess my answer is, hey, you love your book, you love your main character -- go with it. And maybe your next book, consider changing it up.

[adcres]

         howdy hey , pardnerrrs :> i’m rox ( she / her ) ‘n i’ll be playing yr residential sullen broodin’ boy , nico . i didn’t have the time to write out a whole new intro , given that i have back to back classes again today :-’( , so please forgive me for recycling his old intro akawodkgrsd ; . that being said , i did tweak around some tingz and i updated his wcs for him , so if yr down to clown around just hmu on my discord :   𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔫𝔦𝔞#2854 !  okie okie , i’ll shut da eff up now ♡ 

BASICS.

༉‧₊˚✧ kim taehyung , cis man , he / him / his — did you see that nicholas “nico” yoon was trending last night ? the twenty three year old street artist has been getting a lot of press lately . i think it’s due to them being so + quixotic & + free-spirited , but i always thought they seemed - withdrawn & - sybaritic . their fans always say they remind them of soft smoke rings spun in a dreamy haze , silver-ringed fingers rapping against polished oak , and waning light refracting against broken glass though . i wonder if they’ve found out about REDACTED yet … i guess we’ll have to wait and see . [ rox , 22 , pst , she / her , none ]

PINTEREST & PLAYLIST .

01 and 02 .

PERSONALITY .

at first glance , nico reads as this aloof , arrogant type that doesn’t like to associate w the common public . always keeping the majority of people at a comfortable distance , nico moves almost exclusively within his own social network , and doesn’t like to deviate from what he knows best .  

not so much pretentious as he is lazy , making an effort to socialize with complete strangers is simply something that nico would never do . hehe ... he’s kind of shy like that .... ♡ though he’d literally never admit it ♡

despite giving the impression that he’s some intimidating and chronically indifferent kind of guy , nico is genuinely a sweet boy — ‏‏‎ one who’s in a constant state of confusion as to why people seem to be so scared of him . it always comes as a shock when close friends of his admit that they thought he absolutely hated their guts when they first met him .

b/c tho he’s p smart , nico is very oblivious at times , and he’s 100% the kind of guy who’ll walk away from a conversation thinking he did a rly rly good job trying to make a friend ... when in reality he prob said four words in the span of thirty minutes smh .

overall , nico’s a private person , especially with what he’s thinking ... and it’s really hard to get a clear read on what’s on his mind . sharing his feelings has never been one of nico’s interests b/c he just genuinely doesn’t think whatever he has to say is rly worth mentioning . so he usually just shuts da fuck up n lets other ppl talk so he can mentally gain the strength to continue socializing .

push nico’s buttons enough tho ‘n you’ll catch this mf speaking in full sentences .

lastly , it should b noted that nico is a romantic through n through ... this mf probably d*ed in the victorian era ‘n got reincarnated b/c he’s got that ‘ lets share furtive glances across the room but never say a thing to each other  ‘ thing on lock . mr. darcy headass

and while nico might play the role of long-suffering , ever pining lover to a T , he’s more in love w / the idea of love than he is w / any single person . and he literally cannot hold down a relationship w/o fucking it up for himself in some shape or form .

kind of sarcastic ... v much the teasing type .... 

can b very impulsive at times , loves to go on solo adventures at night , prefers his own company tbh ...

overview : melancholic , reticent , noncommittal , humble , mild-mannered , romantic .

a mix of : josh from clueless and j.d. from heathers

more here .

MORE AESTHETICS.

the chill of silver jewelry against flushed skin , forgotten graffiti on porcelain sinks , flickering motel lights , kisses sticky with vodka , eyes ringed with lavender , sleepless nights surrendered to the dull buzz of television , obscure art house films , sun-kissed cheeks , the surprise of summer rain , chest aching with lost loves , scattered baby’s breath and rosemary , and a shared smile between perfect strangers .

CHARACTER DISSERTATION.

nico was born on a brisk wintry morning in the fashion district of los angeles ( january 21st , 1997 ) to a family of six .

as the second youngest child , and the only male son to boot , nico grew up with his only inheritance being a generational kind of hunger , one that demanded for more than what his struggling parents could offer

the arts stole nico at an early age ... ushering him into a world of creation and freedom beyond the four bleak walls he daily occupied . from spending lonely summers tucked away in some forgotten corner in the library to practicing on a borrowed violin from dawn to dusk , nico knew that even with nothing at his disposal , there was always something to be made w/ the tools he’d been given  

despite not having the money for private tutors to hone their son’s growing artistic talents , his parents did whatever they could to support his dreams , whether that meant working double shifts back to back or scrounging for loose change underneath the sofa cushions to pay for whatever materials nico needed .

it was in this strange way that nico grew up p spoiled . somehow having nothing while also having absolutely everything at the same time .

very much a family man , the first big purchase nico made once he broke out in hollywood was a house in beverly hills for his parents . now that he’s finally at a place where he can take care of his family , nico makes sure that his parents and sisters want for nothing

while he showers everyone else with generous gifts and obscene amounts of money , nico doesn’t particularly feel comfortable doing the same for himself . he’s a simple man through n through . one who’s content to spend his time walking his dog late at night , listening to a podcast on his airpods , instead of going out to a club w/ other well-known socialites .

a true artist at heart , nico refuses to conform to the current trends of hollywood , instead insisting on wearing thrifted clothes to important galas — ‏‏‎much to the frustration of his PR team and the chagrin of his stylists . but none of the choices nico makes seems to surprise anyone anymore . driving flashy cars and wearing designer clothes has never really been his style , after all . and it’s important to him that he remain authentically himself despite everything .

WANTED CONNECTS.

pr relationship ( open ) : someone that nico is contractually obligated to date ... i could totally see there being drama ‘n tension from having to pretend to actually like each other ... would b better if they rly did not like each other at all ... 

fwb ( open ) : buddies who bump uglies sometimes ... they both agreed they’d never catch feelings for each other but we’ll see ... 

frenemies ( open ) : someone that grinds nico’s gears but they’re a friend of his friend ... so they’re forced to keep it civil . i can see them exchanging hateful comments in the back of their friend’s car while simultaneously posting pics of each other on ig to keep up the rouse . 

unrequited crush ( open ) : likely nico would not realize if yr muse had a crush on them ... but it’d be fun to play it out like a kdrama anyway heh heh

a close friend group ( open / any ) : i thought it’d b so cute if there was like a small group of friends , maybe 3-4 ppl , that do stupid shit like ditch going to celebrity after-parties to break into abandoned buildings , get real high , ask stupid ‘ would u rather ‘ questions , and do sum main character type shit ... yk what im puttin down ... ‘n nico is def the type to open up in the presence of extroverts so i think having a group of wild outsiders of diff bgs would b v inch resting ..

enemies / rivals ( open / any ) : tbh nico prob rubs ppl the wrong way since he has resting bitch face ‘n never wants to talk to anyone .. so im sure there r ppl who just do not like this mf ... and rest assured that the feeling is mutual ...

bad / good influence ( open / any ) : nico’s known to mount his high horse often ... mr morality over here ... so i just know he prob would butt heads w/ the residential troublemaker . tho nico’s artwork can be controversial and out of the box at times , his art style and his personality are at constant odds , and it’d b interesting to have that bad influence / good influence dynamic w/ someone .

family friend ( open ) : someone who grew up w/ nico in dtla ... couldve gone to the same public school as him ... or their families couldve gone to the same church ...

ok my intro post has become a fucking behemoth so im going to stop here ‘n just say i have so many more wcs in mind so if u wanna plot lets just talk hehe :>

[mjmnorwood]

[I.D. A header image of two pencils on a yellow background, with title reading ‘Tips For When You’re Stuck’. End I.D.]

Finishing drafts is hard. Maintaining your enthusiasm and inspiration for the months (or years!) it takes to write a book is a real challenge. Over my writing lifetime I’ve accumulated ways to make myself keep going when I’m struggling to stay motivated, I don’t know what happens next, I’m doubting myself, or I’m suffering from any of the other many, many writing difficulties that exist. These tips are mainly focused on finishing first drafts of novels, but many of them are applicable for other writing as well. So, without further ado, let’s get going!

1. If you hit a block, don’t stop writing or start a different project.

There’s nothing wrong with taking breaks from writing, or having multiple projects on the go at the same time! However, I’ve found that if I stop writing or start something else when the going gets tough with my current project, then that project gets abandoned. Your mind is looking for an escape from whatever difficulty the project is presenting, so once you’ve found that escape, it’s very hard to make yourself go back to what was causing you said difficulty. It took me an embarrassingly long time to realise this, and I think I have about six novel beginnings sitting in my files from way back when I first started trying to write a book. Every time I hit a block, I’d move on to something else, and it was only when I forced myself to stick to one idea (even through four failed attempts at starting it!) that I actually managed to finish my first book.

2. If you don’t know what to write next, it’s often because something isn’t working further back in your story.

Look at the previous 5000 or so words you’ve written. Have you taken the plot in a direction that doesn’t make sense? Has a character done something OOC that’s led to a situation which doesn’t fit them? This is often a semi-easy fix because you’ll spot something that isn’t right, and when you correct it the plot/characters will feel more natural, so everything will flow much better.

3. If the above doesn’t work, take some time to think.

As someone who’s both plotted and pantsed books, I have a few approaches to this.

If you have an outline, revisit it. It could be that in writing, your characters have changed from how you originally conceived them, or you have discovered a plot thread you’d rather focus on. If this is the case, rework your outline to reflect your new direction.

If you’re a pantser, things can be a bit more hazy. Try mind-mapping out some elements of your story you really like (character elements, plot threads, worldbuilding details, or anything else). I find that just the act of thinking about them and writing them down sparks more ideas, and I can start writing again.

This last tip is applicable to plotters and pantsers: read up on story structure! You don’t have to plan to hit specific beats if you don’t want to, but familiarising yourself with common beats and structures can often help you think about where your story needs to go next.

4. Remember that you are good enough.

Self-doubt hit me hard during the second draft of my most recent book, and every writing session was a fight to get my words out. But I pushed through it, had a blast writing the third draft, and my beta-readers are now enjoying the book! So, this is less a tip, and more a reminder. That little voice that tells you your writing is terrible? It is wrong. You are creating, and therefore doing something amazing. Tell that voice to eff off, and then get back to your keyboard.

5. Find your enthusiasm again!

Sometimes, we struggle to write simply because we’ve been doing it for a long time, and everything’s started to feel stale. Recovering your excitement for a project can be difficult, but I have a few ways I like to go about it.

Research. If you have a particular thing that inspired you, find out as much as you an about it. I did this with my most recent book, immersing myself in everything I could find about medicine and medieval life. It’s a great way of reminding yourself why you’re passionate about your work—and it sparks new ideas as well!

Make moodboards/playlists. This can help you get to the root of the themes and ideas you want to convey in your writing (just be careful that it doesn’t become a distraction instead of a tool).

Talk to people about your writing! I find this is the number one way I maintain my enthusiasm about a project. The excited feeling I get squeeing about my ideas with a friend is honestly one of my fave things. You don’t have to go into too much detail if you don’t want to, just the break from the normal solitary-ness of writing can be enough. Note: it can be a good idea to avoid discussing plot, as revealing this when it isn’t fully formed can shake your confidence. Characters and worldbuilding are fair game, though!

6. If you need to, ask for help!

The internet means it’s easier than ever before to find people giving writing advice, so if you’re stuck with something, you can reach out! You don’t have to do this alone.

Final note: these aren’t meant to be hard-and-fast rules. They’re just things that have helped me over the years, and whichever ones you think are useful, you can add to your grab-bag of tools!

Like this post? Follow for more writerly content! It’ll be lovely to have you along :D

[paintedrecs]

3 and 8 for the meme!

For this meme.

3. Which of your fics was most different from what you usually write?

All of them? Hah.

All Is Mended was a big stretch for me that kicked off this whole “I’m gonna write whatever the eff I want to write I guess” year. Written for a very tiny ship in an old fandom with extremely specific interests that I wasn’t sure anyone else would be into.

Writing a complicated poly family and my first smut were two things I did not expect, but it opened up the door for me to create my own versions of characters & relationships, rather than fitting into preconceived fandom ideas. No one else has done this yet? Ugh but also: I guess that means I can do whatever the frick I want, then.

That’s the beauty (and torment) of writing for smaller fandoms & pairings.  

8. Which fic this year was most fun to write?

“Fun” is an interesting word, because I don’t necessarily equate it with “most enjoyable” or “most satisfying” or “most emotionally fulfilling.” Purely for fun, writing the Trevorcard banter in Blind Date with a Belmont was a blast. 

I also liked writing those sex scenes, NOT because of the smut but because I liked how ridiculous they got during it. I didn’t care that much about whether it was hot - I wanted it to feel intimate and unique to them, and in this case it meant bad jokes and laughter and strange sudden surges of fondness - mixed with sharp spikes of angst.

[a-marlene-s]

La Red: Part 4

If anyone is interested or want to support my writing feel to drop by.  https://ko-fi.com/a_marlene_s

Second Chance…

Second Chance…

Second Chance.

There are so many chances Marinette could give before she loses how many eff’s she could give about her class now. Except for Sabrina and to some extension, Chole as the bespectacled teen had more or less told the Mayor’s daughter of her past. Just enough so that Chole will not kick up a massive fuss once she returns from her trip with her mother.

Even so, Marinette is alone and needs to start putting the plan into action. The first step is to take a step back and evaluate the situation. That situation is, of course, being one Lila Rossi and her never-ending lies. Attacking the lies directly resulted in her being alienated from the class and Marinette needed to go about it differently. There was no way she is going to take Adrien’s advice. Sabrina made it clear and managed to get into her own mind, that Adrien is someone that she could no longer consider a friend.

Adrien made it loud and clear that her own feelings did not matter, that he made her feel like no one. The no one that Lila is not hurting with her constant lies. Marinette does not need that. What she needs are people that could stand by her, not push her around and force them to comply with the demands of others.

So, when Marinette took her seat in the back of the classroom and ignored Adrien as he too took a seat next to her. Adrien attempted to gain Marinette’s attention, but nothing was working, he needed to talk to her to make sure she sticks with no longer bothering Lila anymore. But no matter how much he tired, to the point of trying to tap on her shoulder, Marinette should move away from her in favor of texting with someone on her phone.

“Marinette?” Adrien said, once again trying to get Marinette’s attention.

“Did you know Jagged put on a poll on his twitter? ‘What’s your favorite animal to have as a pet?’” Marinette couldn’t help but chuckle to herself when she saw Adrien pale at the corner of her eye. “I can’t decide between dog, hamster or Fang.”

“Marinette… did you talk to Jagged about Lila?” Adrien did not bother to hide his accusatory tone from her. It appeared she was not taking the high road.

“Me? Not talking to Jagged? He commissioned me to do some work for him.” Marinette did not look away from her phone. “Are you insinuating I shouldn’t talk to him? About future work?”

For his own part, Adrien recoiled. Oh, how he had temporarily forgotten that Marinette knew Jagged personally and did some work for him. But to personally have his number… and in constant contact with him. “Have you-”

Luckily for Adrien, the teacher walked into the class, announcing they are going to do group projects.

---

❀❀ Mari ❀❀: It’s just that… there’s this new girl at my school, saying that you supposedly have a cat?

🐊 Uncle Jagged 🐊: Really? What kind of stuff is that? Please tell me you don’t believe her, I don’t even like cats. Too mainstream and dangerous to have around Fang. Plus, with Penny’s allergies towards animal fur makes it right down impossible to have one.

Marinette knew two sides to Jagged Stone. The one that he shows to the world, the rock star, and the human behind the mask. If there was one thing, she could easily count on with Jagged is his ability to temporarily drop his façade when the times come for it. He’s being really serious about Lila’s lies that concern him and Penny to an extension.

🐊 Uncle Jagged 🐊: Whenever we have people come backstage, our guards check out of they have been in contact with any sort of animals. Otherwise, we’d make sure Penny doesn’t go near them and I have to steer clear of her after the meet and greet. So not cool with what she is saying. Just say the word and I’ll come by for a visit to clear things up!

❀❀ Mari ❀❀: Don’t come until I say so, I want to keep the fact I know you on the down low right up the time to reveal it…. That and I need to finish your commission.

🐊 Uncle Jagged 🐊: That’s my girl!

---

Bugaboo2: He tried to make me not contact Jagged! I know the guy. He perfectly knew I know the man and I do commissions for him. Did he really expect me not to talk to him about what has been happening???

Little-Miss-Understood: I told you he’s not worth a second chance.

Bugaboo2: I know… It’s just that… I thought, never mind. He made it rather clear that he expects me to take the high road on this and to just roll over to comply with his wishes.

Little-Miss-Understood: Which you are not doing, I hope?

Bugaboo2: No! God no, I am sticking to the plan. He lost his second chance the moment he did not bother to take my feelings into consideration about Lila. What did you manage to pick up on the others?

Little-Miss-Understood: …not good. Lila has a very, firm grip on many of them. The only ones that show promise are Nino, Alix, Ivan and Max. The others a too far gone into Lila’s lies.

Bugaboo2: Really?

Little-Miss-Understood: Nino is following Alya and doing whatever to appease her. He has tried to talk to Alya about her behavior but gets shut down rather quickly about it and Adrien isn’t exactly encouraging his friend to seek the truth either. Alix was never promised anything through Lila’s lies. She simply is skirting around the crowd and never really putting up too much input. Ivan, similar to Nino, he’s following Mylene. Max is an expert in computers not when it comes to humans. Everyone else in the class… we have better luck convincing Alya Ladybug hates her blog than convincing them about Lila’s lies.

Bugaboo2: Understood…. Thank you.”

Little-Miss-Understood: You are welcome. At this point, you need to make a line in the sand and figure out what you are going to do with Alya. Out of everyone in the class, she is the one you need to completely be on board on cutting all ties with her. Lila has her claws gripped tightly to her that Alya will believe everything she says and will defend it to her very last breath.

Bugaboo2: That is what I am afraid of.

---

It was one thing to be around Alya when they are at school, but it is a completely different thing once they are Akuma-fighting superheroes protecting Paris from Hawkmoth. Ladybug needed to reevaluate Rena Rouge and see if her personal life is interfering with her hero work. At first, things were going okay. Nothing out of the norm.

Rena Rouge still being Rena Rouge, if she keeps this up then maybe she still has a chance. Ladybug hopes Rena will be able to separate her civilian life from her hero one. At this point, this could be the only way she could trust her.

Waving good-bye to Chat Noir after taking down another Akuma and it was time to separate ways before the last beep of their miraculous.

“Ladybug!”

‘Right now, she is not Alya. She is Rena Rouge.’ Ran though Ladybug’s mind as she turned around to see Rena running up to her. Rena’s miraculous began to beep, possibly be the beginning of the end. “Yes, Rena?”

“I was wondering if you could tell me how exactly you decide on who becomes a hero?” Rena asked she didn’t bother to hide her excitement let alone that knowing glint in her eyes. “Who receives a miraculous?”

Ladybug took in a deep breath and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. Suspicion began to fill her mind as she knew that familiar glint meant. She had seen it many times before and the outcomes of that glint always got Alya in trouble. “I am not the one who fully decides on who receives a miraculous.”

“But you could put in a good word for someone, right?” Rena asked she bounces on the ball of her feet waiting for Ladybug to confirm her thoughts. “Like with myself?”

Beep.

“More or less but… yes.” Ladybug nearly grounded out, she so did not want to have his conversation with her. She suspects that Rena knows who is Carapace, so that takes Nino of the list of who could be a possible future miraculous holder. “I pick people who I believe we, Chat Noir and I, could fight alongside with. People who have the heart of a hero.”

“Have you thought of having someone else helping us? You know, just in case if we need backup?” Rena did not miss a beat. “Giving Chole a miraculous was a very bad idea. You could have given it to someone else like…. Lila! Your best friend.”

Beep.

Ladybug sucked in a deep breath, who she needed to steer this conversation elsewhere. “Chole… Queen Bee has shown progress in being a hero for Paris. Yes, she still needs some work, but she is getting there. As for Lila… it’s a no.”

Beep.

“No? Why not?” Rena questioned; her entire posture turned defensive. “She’s your best friend, right? Why don’t you consider her as a possible backup…?”

Beep. Where Rena Rouge once was, now stood Alya Cesaire who is still ranting.

Ladybug did not bother to listen to whatever else Alya attempted to argue that Lila would become a stupendous Hero. She managed to get a word in when she saw Alya took in a deep breath to continue with her argument. “What about Marinette? She would make a stupendous hero.”

Alya did not bother to hide a snort of disgruntlement. “Like she’ll even have the time to be a hero. Don’t tell me she is filling your head with lies about Lila. Marinette is jealous of Lila, who by the way, is your best friend!”

“Are you insinuating that Marinette Dapain-Cheng is brainwashing me about Lila Rossi?”

“Yes!”

“You’re fired. Give me back your miraculous.” Ladybug finally said, extending her arm out for Alya to give her back the Fox Miraculous.

“Wh-what?”

“I gave you a second chance and you blew it.”

---

Nino did not know what Alya was telling him through the phone. He had just finished helping his mom at the family’s food mart. Nothing out of the norm for him. It brought in a sense of relief for him from constantly having to run around Alya who is constantly running after Ladybug or helping Ladybug… it’s a never-ending cycle. Then there are the fact things are becoming to become tense ever since Lila transferred into their school.

Alya became obsess with Lila to the point it is becoming a constant strain in their relationship. Either Alya is following or helping Ladybug, following Lila and when they do manage to find some sort of time to date, they both must babysit their younger siblings. There were times that he actually preferred to stay home to take care of Chris than to go out after a long day, more so to not get in trouble with his mom. He had to bribe Chris to not spill the beans that Marinette has been babysitting him to oppose himself.

Marinette… Nino felt uneasy with how things were going for her in and out of school. Every time he attempted to say something, Alya, Lila and even Adrien will quarrel down his doubts about her supposed attitude towards Lila’s words. Of course, he’s not exactly innocent on the entire matter, he knows he plays a part to it and those doubts are once again rising as Alya cried through the phone.

“What do you mean, you got fired?” Nino had to lower down his voice as he walked past a random couple. What was said next caused Nino to physically and mentally take a step back. Is Alya blaming Marinette for what happened? How did that happen? Of course, he knew that Marinette had encountered Ladybug and Chat Noir from time to time, but to be in talking terms with Ladybug? To supposedly brainwash her about Lila. Nothing was making sense to him. No, the only way to make sense of things is to talk to Ladybug about what happened. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do.

Nino looked up into the sky wondering how he would start the search to look for Ladybug when he saw her swinging by. She is probably looking for a place to power down before her own timer goes off. Lucky for him, the street is clear, and no one was around to hear him shout out for her. “Ladybug!”  

For her own part, Ladybug did take a pause to land in front of a randomly closed storefront before she turned around to the person that called out her name. From what he could see from his spot, Nino could see that Ladybug is trying really hard to not cry and putting up a strong front. “Is something wrong? Another Akuma attack?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” Nino measured his steps when he walked up to her. “Could we talk?”

“We are talking right now.” Ladybug pointed out.

“As Nino… not as…” Nino trailed off, he had reached up to pull on his cap to make a certain point with her. “To not raise suspicion. I just want to talk about is all.”

Ladybug looked away from Nino, chewing on her bottom lip wondering if she should talk to him. Then she remembered her plan and promise. She has yet to give Nino his own second chance. His own second chance is not connected to Alya’s own decisions, he is own person and thus, she needed to know where he stood in all this massive mess. With that in mind…

“We’ll talk during patrol tonight.”

---

“Does anyone bother to ask me about Lila? No one does! Alya… oh, Alya…” Ladybug does not know what got into her when she started to tell Carapace everything, well almost everything, on what has been happening to her. Mainly going over how Lila’s lies have been affecting her. She could later chalk it up to the fact that she and Nino were once close friends before life got the better of them. That and she really wanted to get it off her chest that is not Tikki. There are so many cookies she could bribe the little kwami so that she would not do something her own self. “She claims to be a good reporter who always verifies her sources, she never bothered to ask me if her supposed reports are true? No. She does not. Everything Lila has ever said about me is…”

Carapace rubbed his forehead as he took in Ladybug’s words. Oh, he should have seen this coming. He should have seen this coming from who knows how long ago. From the way Ladybug is describing Alya, it makes his girlfriend sound like Lady Wifi. Someone that will stop at nothing to update the Ladyblog with the next best thing, without even caring on how she gets the information.

“To top it all off… Lila had nearly caused me-Marinette to get Akumatized.” Ladybug huddled into herself, whispering out the word more to herself than to Carapace.

“What?” Carapace could not hide his shock at the news that he didn’t even take note of Ladybug’s slight slip up. “Marinette nearly got Akumatized? When? How? Is she okay?”

Ladybug looked away from Carapace in favor to look out into the city. They ended up on some random rooftop that overlooked the city. “At this point, it is hard to say. She confided to me what Lila has been saying and doing against her.”

“What has she been doing against Marinette?” Carapace asked from his spot on the roof. He knew he should not allow his emotions to get the best of him. That would only invite Hawkmoth to bring in more trouble whenever it is not necessary. “Ladybug, what has Lila been doing against Marinette?”

“…It’s not my story to say, I’m sorry. If you want to know more, you have to ask Marinette yourself.”

---

Marinette groaned into her hands as she paced around her room. She really messed up tonight. Really messed up. She said faaar too much to Carap-no, to Nino. She said far too much to Nino about what has been happening to her.

What if he did not believe her?

What if he will once again get entrap by Lila’s lies?

What if-

Tikki, for her own part, could only shake her head as she had her fill with cookies. She felt bad for Marinette but knew that what was said could not be undone. At least she did not stop Nino from continuing his work as a Miraculous Wieldier at this point. Maybe there is still some hope for him? Time will tell at this point.

Marinette’s phone rang, causing the teen to trip over her own two feet. She quickly went over to her desk where she was charging her phone to see an incoming call… from Alya.

Taking in a deep breath, she answered the call and waited for whatever Alya wanted to complain about this time.

“NINO BROKE UP WITH ME BECAUSE OF YOU!!!!”

Marinette pulled her phone away from her ear to see who exactly she is talking to. Once seeing it is Alya that is calling her, she put the phone up to her ear once more. Alya continued with her yelling on with blaming her now former best friend onto why she was blaming her for the breakup. All of which is a load of bull. Lots of it.

“Alya… Alya… Alya…” Marinette began to lose her patience with the girl on the other line. It got to the point she simply allowed Alya to scream while Marinette pulled up her messenger app to text Sabrina.

Bugaboo2: Alya and Nino just broke up. She’s blaming me because of it.

Little-Miss-Understood: I know, she created a group chat to ‘discuss’ about it with all the girls minus you. Luckily for you, Rose once witnessed them arguing about one thing or another ever since Lila came into the picture. She believes that it was something that was bound to happen is Alya is looking for any excuse to blame anyone but herself.

Bugaboo2: Really? Rose…?

Little-Miss-Understood: I may or may not have something to do with that…. Did you have anything to do with the breakup? Just wondering.

Bugaboo2: I…. I’ll text you later. Alya is losing her voice.

Little-Miss-Understood: She’s calling you?

Bugaboo2: More like screaming.

Little-Miss-Understood: Please tell me you are recording this.

Bugaboo2: What do you take me for? I’ll send you a copy late tonight. Plus, depending on how tonight goes, I may have gained a friend back.

Little-Miss-Understood: Keep me informed.

Marinette closed the app before she put the phone by her ear once more. “Are you done?”

“What the hell does that supposed to mean!!!!”

“I haven’t talked to Nino in weeks. Weeks.” Marinette didn’t bother to hold back a hiss. “Every time I’ve ever seen him is when he’s spending time together with you or Adrien. I never could even say hi to him before you drag him to who knows what. Stop blaming me for something that is completely out of my control. Maybe you’d spend less time gossiping with Lila, you would have seen the massive train wreck that’s coming your way.”

Without even waiting for a response, Marinette hung up on Alya. She was so tempted in throwing her phone against the wall in frustration but the last time she did that, she almost hit Tikki. That was the last time she ever threw anything in her room. Along with having to make several trips down into the bakery to grab cookies Tikki and many, many apologies afterward. Yeah… not her greatest moments to date.

Marinette was about to put her phone back to charge when another call was coming in. Muttered under her breath, wondering who is calling her this time. Her eyebrows shot up when she saw it was Nino who is calling her. Looking over at Tikki, who had by now taken refuge somewhere under the bed, peaked under the covers to motion her to pick up on the call when she saw Marinette’s look of complete distress.

Answering the call made Marinette wince as silence was the only thing she heard. “Hello…? Nino?”

“I take it Alya called you?” Nino asked from the other side of the line.

Oh, she is going to need to sit down for this. “I did. She is blaming me because you two broke up. What happened?”

“I… I need… How do I say this…?”

Marinette could tell that Nino is struggling with whatever he wanted to say with her by a massive long shot. There was a long pause between them. It wasn’t awkward or felt completely out of place. It was just giving someone enough time to gather their thoughts before they say what was needed to be said.

“How was your day today? How are you feeling?” Nino asked.

Marinette could hear Nino cursing at himself for not saying what he actually wanted to say. “I no longer have a best friend; she thinks I brainwashed her now ex-boyfriend and is not talking crap about me to someone that threatened me… yeah. Not so good.”

Pause…

“Could we meet tomorrow? I don’t want to say I’m sorry through the phone, I rather say it in person.”

“You just said, ‘I’m sorry’ just right now and I accept your apology.”

“Marinette… I swear you’re too good of a person for any of us. I’m serious. I want to hear your side of what’s been going on without anyone interfering.”

“Promise not to judge or jump to conclusions?”

“I’ll listen. I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

“Alright. Tomorrow.” Marinette agreed before she hung up. She looked up at her ceiling, wondering who she is going to face Nino tomorrow. Lucky for them, tomorrow is a Sunday and classes. Or maybe that’s a bad thing… no, it’s good. The last thing she wants is to face Alya tomorrow for something that might as well be her own doing.

Marinette could not help shaking her head at the thought. She’s going to have to talk to Nino about the breakup tomorrow. To see what happened and what broke the camel’s back on their relationship. She wanted to feel bad but at the same time, she does not feel bad about what happened. At now she could honestly say, she possibly gained back a friend that is more than willing to stand by her side during this tiring time.

[preraphaelitepunk]

Fictober19 Day 15: Obligatory Crepes Scene

Prompt #15: That’s what I’m talking about.

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley

Rating: General

Warnings: None

“Tell me this,” Crowley said. “How exactly were you planning on ordering these crepes — the ones you simply had to have, the ones that nearly got you killed because you came over here dressed like an aristocratic ninny? Your French is appalling. It’s execrable.”

Aziraphale shrugged. “I usually get by with pointing and gestures.”

“’S’funny, though. I’d’ve thought you’d be fluent.”

“I can read it, of course. Speaking it, though,” here, the angel shuddered delicately. “That’s another matter entirely. Too many silent letters, too nasal. Too French.”

“You remember you’re not actually English, right, angel? You don’t have to adopt their national rivalries.”

This earned him a cool glare. “Don’t be ridiculous, Crowley. I simply think that a word should be spelled how it sounds.”

“Right. Because English spelling is so straightforward. It isn’t even standardized; it’s all phonetic, with all these extra Es and Us and effs for esses. Can’t even hiss properly in writing, just gets spelled as ‘ffffffff.’ Hardly the same effect. And don’t even get me started on ‘ye’ being pronounced ‘the.’”

“Ooh, that’s quite interesting, really. The wye in ‘ye’ is actually a descendant of the thorn letter —”

Crowley tuned out and just enjoyed watching the angel. Even in his ridiculous revolutionary getup, he was adorable, and the way his eyes sparkled as he lectured about the history and theory of spelling lit up the room ten times better than the candle on their table. He was such a dork, and Crowley could never let him know how much he loved him, but it was enough just to sit and bask in his delightful, silly, challenging, maddening presence.

Well, it wasn’t really enough, but it would have to do.

They were sitting in the creperie, and Crowley had just ordered for them in easy, colloquial French: crepes with sugar and lemon for Aziraphale, and a strong coffee for himself. The restaurant was surprisingly swanky, given the revolution going on outside. There were clean tablecloths, real silver cutlery, obsequious staff. Crowley guessed that a lot of chefs for the aristos had suddenly found themselves out of work, and were recreating the upper-class dining experience as best they could for the masses. He’d even had to miracle a last-second reservation to get their table.

“— and as to your complaint about lack of standardization, I have high hopes that Mr. Johnson’s excellent ‘dictionary,’” Aziraphale somehow managed to pronounce the quotation marks, “will lead to great innovations in the field.”

“Well, as a demon, I probably should be on the side of spelling chaos, but I’m also incredibly slothful, so anything that makes my life easier is fine by me.”

“I thought you didn’t read, dear.”

Crowley waved a dismissive hand. “Not as such, no. Not a big reader, me. But it’s not like I’m illiterate, angel. Just have better things to do.”

A waiter arrived with their food, distracting the angel from whatever huffy rejoinder he was about to make about the joys of reading. Aziraphale leaned over his crepes and gave a long, savoring sniff; it was like a benediction. “Absolutely delightful.”

Enjoying the heat from his coffee cup soaking into his fingers, Crowley watched as the angel cut off a bit of the crepes and brought it to his mouth. Pink lips parted, accepted the fork inside, closed, curled in a blissful smile. “Mmmm. Marvelous. Completely worth the trip.”

“Yeah, I’d wanted to talk about that, angel. Try to be a little more circumspect in future, okay?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Aziraphale’s bright eyes had turned slightly worried.

“I mean don’t go wandering blithely into potentially deadly situations. Be a little more careful.” Secretly, Crowley adored playing the dashing hero, bursting in at the last second to save the angel in distress, but deep down, it also terrified him. What if, one day, he couldn’t get there in time? What if he missed his cue altogether? It would save Crowley a lot of wear and tear on his nerves, and a lot of sleepless nights, if the angel would stick to getting into less deadly perils. Tripping and letting Crowley catch him, saving him from a nasty fall, sounded about right: just enough danger to get the adrenaline going, minimal risk of discorporation, and with the added bonus of getting to hold Aziraphale in his arms, however briefly.

“Oh. Well, you turned up to save me, so everything’s all right. Here, have a bite of my crepes! They really are most excellent, and the sauce —”

“That’s what I’m talking about, Aziraphale! Everything turned out okay this time, but you can’t always count on me happening to be in the neighborhood to save your hide. You just go waltzing into these ridiculous situations, and one of these days it’s going to get you discorporated.”

Aziraphale softened. “You worry about me?”

“Wha — ngk, smrfl — no, of course I don’t worry about you. ‘M a demon, we don’t worry about other people. Entities, whatever. I’m just saying it would be inconvenient if you were discorporated. Who knows how long they’d take to issue you another body, and in the meantime, what happens to the Arrangement? I’ll be stuck doing all the work.”

“Of course, dear.”

“Whoever came up with ‘fools rush in where angels fear to tread’ obviously never met you. I can’t think of any blessed danger you wouldn’t meander into, your nose in a book or your head filled with thoughts of crepes.”

“Pope.”

This non sequitur stopped Crowley mid-rant. “Pius VI? What about him? Not very popular with the rebellion, I know.”

“Alexander Pope, the writer. Essay on Criticism. He’s the one who wrote that ‘angels fear to tread’ thing you mentioned. And I thought he was a very charming and witty man, and admirable. He overcame so many difficulties in his life.”

“Please don’t list them all, angel.”

Aziraphale huffed, then relented and glanced warmly up at Crowley through his lashes as he cut another bite of crepes. “Oh, all right, I won’t. And I’ll try to be more circumspect in the future.”

Somehow Crowley doubted this, but he felt a little better. Aziraphale would try to be careful, and Crowley would keep a discreet eye on his activities so he could intervene when the angel’s definition of “careful” diverged a little too widely from how his blessed Samuel Johnson’s dictionary defined it.

For now, though, he could relax a bit, enjoy his coffee — the French had gotten rather good at coffee, actually — and watch the angel eat.

[On AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/20843936/chapters/50051924]

[murfeelee]

Alright, I’ve been talking about The Witcher TV show for months and months, and now I’ve FINALLY seen it.

I've skimmed through the books here and there, but really I’m a diehard fan of the video games, particularly The Witcher 3 (I’ve played TW1 and TW2 as well). Because of all the hype, attention and love the TW3 got over the years, with even Henry Cavill being a major fan of the video games, Netflix went and made this tv show, with Cavill as Geralt of Rivia, The Witcher.

MY THOUGHTS

It was GOOD! \(^0^)/ I really liked it!

Alright, don’t get excited, I think this show had some serious problems. But we’ll start with the good before getting to the bad and the ugly.

THE GOOD

THE ACTING

Everyone was top notch, and did a fantastic job. I freaking LOVE Grandma Calanthe, omg. I wanted more of her, and Mama Tissaia, and the different sorceresses (when Sodden started I was like hooo boy, I know how this goes; the finale is WORTH the price of admission, folks).

I even liked Eclipse-Princess (her name escapes me, my bad; I was calling her Arya 2.0 in my head). Don’t think I effing missed how they threw in a nod to the Eclipse Princess from Blood & Wine; that was awesome, featuring the Black Sun “curse” again.

I already knew I was gonna HAVE to tune in to see Yennefer’s story, and it was every bit as superb as I suspected it would be. Dare I say it was THE most interesting story arc of the three? Caught me tearing up a few times. I still don’t see book/game/Polish Yennefer with her, but she did a GREAT job, nonetheless--her emotions and delivery and everything was excellent.

She sounds so dang young though, which throws me off with the timeline, cuz when exactly does Yenn’s story take place in all of this? It’s hard to match her with the more...well....matronly/mature persona we’re more familiar with in the games. But I guess she develops that over time, after getting to raise Ciri. Though this does put in better perspective why she was so mean to Ciri at first, calling her ugly and everything. She wanted a child so badly, and Geralt just...gets one by surprise, and she was feeling bitter, I see it now.

THE ACTION

And I gotta give it to Cavill. Boy can MOVE. My favorite moments with Cavill were when he was sword fighting; whoever choreographed all that needs a frikkin award. I imagined the Butcher of Blaviken just tearing up mofos, and that’s exactly what we got. And he was WERKING them pants! XD

Except we never really saw my favorite sign, Igni. Oh well. And I hate that he doesn’t have cat eyes. And the Toxicity ISTG makes him look like a vampire and makes no effing sense, but whatevs.

And sometimes he was sounding WAY too Batman or demonic with this really deep and gravelly voice -- I appreciate that he was trying to give us that gruff and sandpaper dry video game Geralt, but when they’d make him yell or be mad I was like JFC NOT TODAY SATAN. But an attempt was made, and I appreciate it. ^_^ He was fine for the most part. More than fine, even. As I said, the acting & action was great, and they played to Cavill’s strengths.

THE SPECIAL EFFECTS

I also thought the CGI was fine--not the best, no, but I’ve seen way worse in shows with bigger budgets. The dragons...eh.... And that kikimore.... Well, I’m just remembering the Polish tv show, the Hexer--BIG improvement. Trust me. O_O The practical effects were excellent. Even though they messed around A LOT with the Striga plot from TW1, and what it looked like, I did like that they stayed pretty faithful to the fight. 

THE STORIES & CHARACTERS

IMO, the best episode was E04, with Pavetta & Duny. It was just REALLY well done, and the one I was LEAST expecting. My favorite episode was E06, with the dragon, because of course. Reminded me of Hercules the Legendary Journeys, IDKY. The finale was really good, too; I love the sorceresses and all the magic. And E07 when all the plots and flashbacks come together was great.

And now for MY COMPLAINTS

THE BAD

#1) OMG WTF WAS UP WITH THE TIMELINE?

I feel BAD for anyone who’s watching this show fresh, who’s never played the games, read the books, seen the Polish Hexer tv show, played Gwent, or anything related to the Witcher world.

I was thrown off several times, as they shot from Ciri running for her life or Geralt fighting a Striga in the present time; to Yennefer learning magic in the past. Geralt & Dandelion go on adventures Shrek & Donkey style--I ASSUMED in the present, with the Sylvan, Djinn & Dragon, until an episode or two later they’re in Cintra together in the PAST, and Ciri’s not even born yet, and we’re seeing a drunk Ermion/Mousesack and young Crach an Craite (I squeed, my dad~!! His accent was on point!), and Ciri’s mom and grandma. (And WOW, the lady they got to play the mom looks just like the actress playing Ciri--are they related?)

And they do this over and over again over the episodes--present day with Ciri, eff knows when with Geralt or Yennefer. Especially since you know from the books/games that they’re both almost 100 years old. Yenn keeps throwing out “it’s been decades“ this and “years” that. But W H E N though!?!

I mean, I could follow along, sure, but they REALLY needed to make it clearer SOONER for people who have NO idea who TF these people or which kingdoms are which, that some things are happening YEARS apart from each other. Pay attention to how many times GoT shoved those maps of Westeros and Essos in our faces. Or how different shows use color filters for flashbacks or something. Properly situate the audience in time AND space--we’re not Cirilla, who can travel willy nilly between both. They bounced back and forward between past and present with the toss of a frikkin coin.

And speaking of coins...

#2) THE MUSIC WAS...Well.

Oh, Dandelion. XD

Anyone who knows me knows I fangirl HARD over the Witcher video game OSTs. And unfortunately, the music on the tv show was just...alright. :\ And for a franchise so closely connected to iconic music like the band Percival, it’s a crime against nature that the tv show never had a single track that made me go YES. Give it up for POLAND. The end credits song is okay, but I only started getting into it at like Episode 6, soooo... :\

And no, I didn’t like Toss A Coin to Your Witcher in this show. It didn’t sound like part of this medievalesque universe AT ALL, but something kinda pop/country, aimed at I don’t even know who. Sure, the dude playing Dandelion can sing. But so can Ed Sheeran, and when GoT got him to sing on the show, he sure AF didn’t bust out with the next Billboard Top 40 on us in the middle of nowhere.

#3) THE CHARACTER BONDING?

The acting was top notch...it was the plot/writing I didn’t like. Or rather, the relationships between the characters. I felt more for Yennefer & Istredd, and Geralt & Roach, and Ciri & the Elf boy (and her grandma), and even Pavetta & effing Duny/Emhyr (that royal piece of sh!te) than I did for any other characters on this whole show. And that’s a bit of a problem.

First off, I HATED how they made it seem that TEENAGED Ciri had no idea who TF Geralt was. TV Ciri’s gotta be what? 15? Geralt said something about it having been 12 years since Pavetta & Duny, but even that’s too old. Book!Ciri met Geralt IN the Brokilon or whatever forest with all the water drinking and the dryad queen and mess.

They were already obsessed with each other before the fall of Cintra even happened! Ciri was like 10 already when Geralt took Ciri to Kaer Morhen to start her Witcher training, but this girl on the show’s way older, and effing clueless. They don’t even meet til the final few SECONDS, wtf!! It’s just Destiny~! Destiny~! Child of Surprise, but we never even have a scene together~! Destiny~!

Speaking of children, we have Yennefer and Geralt, which was better, but again, WOAH with the pacing. I felt effing BAD for Istredd! :( I don’t really GET why Geralt & Yenn fell so hard for each other; I don’t really feel that connection. Geralt had just as much bonding time with that eclipse-princess! They only had the Djinn episode, really, and by the end of the Dragon episode it was already over!

I mean, yeah, in the books/game they have A LOT of ups and downs, but come on; we’ve already wasted so much time on Geralt & Triss (that homewrecking wench, I’m glad her airtime was minimal), and I just want more BAMF battle couple parents Geralt & Yenn raising Ciri already! >_<

Same with Geralt & Dandelion. Geralt’s kinda mean to him, which is fair; Geralt hates everyone. But I don’t feel where they’re friends at all, and they part at the end of the season on NOT great terms. I kinda feel Geralt doesn’t really like Dandelion at all. :( Even with the whole comedic relief Shrek schtick,

THE UGLY

#4) THE LENGTH

I dunno what’s up with all the 8 episode miniseries lately (GoT, Mandalorian, Witcher, etc), but it REALLY isn’t enough to really flesh out a story. Especially not one as convoluted as The Witcher, AKA the GoT of Poland.

Again, I REALLY feel for the casuals watching, who probably don’t know what the Conjunction of Spheres Istredd keeps referring to is, or what exactly a Witcher is, or why Ciri’s so dang special -- was Lara Dorren or the Elder Blood ever even MENTIONED???

We know Yenn’s got elf blood, but it’s waaaay more than that with Ciri -- though I don’t think they mentioned her elf blood, either, just that Calanthe’s grandmother or someone had their Banshee powers before Pavetta & Ciri.

BTW, wtf with Ermion/Mousesack? That’s gotta be a red herring or something. Cuz we know this dude’s old AF and thriving in Skellige, sooo....? TF. Why the Doppler? Why?

TBH this felt like Season 1A, if anything. I don’t feel the plot really progressed much at all, other than us getting Yennefer’s story. Ciri & Geralt finally meet (cliffhanger supreme right there), but jfc this felt like a prequel -- so much of the season was dedicated to backtracking us in a roundabout way up to the fall of Cintra, then skipping ahead to the Battle at Sodden Hill.

And why the heck did they wait so long to get to get to Vigelfortz!? That’s what I was sitting here WAITING for! You mean I gotta wait for Season TWO to see my Hanse in full force!? :( URGH. Reeeeeeeegiiiiiiiis~! :(

Maybe cut out some of the unnecessary nudity every frikkin where and tell the full frikkin story, hmm? (Yenn’s boobs look great, we got it the first 5 times. Meanwhile these cowards won’t even have a dude’s left testicle be shown on screen, but whatever.)

So yeah, those are my 4 biggest complaints.

Well, and that wig’s hard AF hair line, jfc.(I was DYING during the Pavetta & Duny scene, when Cavill was holding on to that wig for dear life. XD XD)

Otherwise, I really liked the show! B+!

[renwritesstuff]

If you are open to doing those drabbles and would like a challenge, could you do one for Shaynor with 39, 64 and 67 combined? If so that would be fantastic! Your writing is phenomenal and also Queens Gambit? Favorite fic.

For reference: http://renwritesstuff.tumblr.com/post/173963828336/drabble-list

39) “What are you so happy about?”64) “You should see this.”67) “Don’t look at me like that.”

Care Package (AO3)

Brown eyes narrowed from across the room. The woman tilted her head before bringing up her wrist. An orange holo interface glowed to life.

A second later, Commander Annelise Shepard heard a quiet, suspicious voice in her ear piece.

[“What are you so happy about?”]

“What do you mean?” Annelise innocently replied under her breath, her fingers still swiping over the Normandy SR2 galaxy map console. Samantha Traynor’s console. The small curl at Shepard’s mouth pulled wider. 

[“I know you’re up to something.”] Samantha hissed into her wrist as she stayed hidden at the Normandy bow docking entrance. The CIC bridge was nearly empty otherwise; only 2 other tech specialists were present, engrossed in their holo screens. The rest of the Normandy crew was away on shore leave at the Citadel.

And Comms Specialist Traynor was supposed to be off with them.

Or so Shepard had instructed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Annelise mumbled. “I’m just… in my cabin. Building a model. How’s the Wards shopping going? You find the—?” Mid-swipe, Shepard jerked her head up. Her right hand reached up to her ear piece.

“Hang on. How did you know I looked happy?”

Stifling an awkward throat-clear, Sam flattened her body against the cockpit escape hatch. 

Shit.

Shit!

Well, Traynor?

Thinking… Thinking…

“Just a lucky guess. I assumed.” Samantha lied, her voice low. She didn’t dare venture another peek around the corner.

“Because happiness is my default state,” came the skeptical reply. 

Sam smothered a laugh with her hand. At least she’s self-aware. “Is it not? ...And this is a trick question, by the way. With a very correct answer.” Sam started to slide over to the open bow doors.

Keeeeep talking so I can pretend I’m not the worst spy in the galaxy.

Really thought this through, huh Traynor?

Oh shut up.

Annelise said, “Either you think very highly of yourself… or you’re spying on me. And the latter couldn’t possibly be true because you’re off with your BFF Allers.” The phonetic “bee-eff-eff” rolled off the woman’s tongue. 

“Well there’s your answer, darling. It’s obviously the former because I think the world of myself.” Voice husky, Sam cornered over to the exterior bulkhead door. She was one biometric scan away from freedom.

“Uh huh.” A long pause. “Can you ask Diana something for me? Just a quick question.”

Shit!

“Oh she’s… uh… in the dressing room. I’d be happy to relay it.” 

Christ you’re bad at this.

“Oh just grab her for a sec,” Shepard pressed. 

Does her voice sound louder than before?

The biometric lock was taking an agonizingly long time to sweep a grid pattern over Sam’s form. Before she could respond (or dart through the opening bulkhead door), a slanted face came peeking around the corner, green eyes narrowed, red hair loosely framing a splash of freckles. “Really, Samantha? Did you forget something or could you not go a couple hours away from work?” 

Sighing in defeat, Sam slouched her way back to Shepard. She crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air. “I certainly won’t be accepting criticism for working too much from the likes of you, dearest. Pot and kettle and all that.” 

Annelise crossed her arms in response and both women stood there, eyeing each other. Shepard’s glare was positively withering, forcing Sam to crumble under the pressure.

“...Don’t look at me like that,” Sam pouted as she pushed a hand at Shepard’s shoulder. “You caught me, all right?”

Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose. “I really need to talk to Allers about her Traynor-sitting. I paid her 5000 credits for a girls’ day out. She had one job.”

“You bribed my friend to spend time with me?? ...And she didn’t even give me a cut? Oh, Diana and I are going to have a talk later.” Sam put her hands on her hips and reassembled the righteous indignation that had brought her here in the first place. “So? Out with it then! Why were you trying to get rid of me? And why were you at my console?”

“Can’t I have my secrets?”

“Absolutely not. Unless you want my gorgeous brain concocting all sorts of scenarios that will lead to some very confusing arguments for you,” Sam replied haughtily. “It would be more efficient just to tell me.”

Sighing, Annelise reached over and took Sam’s wrist and led her to the galaxy map. A small blue marker blinked over the Citadel. Her fingers typed in a couple of commands to show a reverse overlay of a travel trajectory, bouncing across the lower quadrant of the galaxy.

The location of origin: Horizon.

“I was tracking a delivery,” Annelise said simply.

“A delivery,” Sam repeated with skepticism.

“That’s right.”

“A delivery. That you didn’t want me to know about. From Horizon. Where I’m from.”

“That’s right.”

More betrayal! 

What are we up to?

Shepard, Allers, Shepard again, maybe Mum, maybe Dad, maybe both, we’ll say Shepard again for good measure...

I am going to send out so many strongly-worded vid-mails.

Really take ‘em to task, Traynor.

“Who was it? Mum? Dad? Both of them working in concert?” Drumming her fingers on the console, Sam felt her blood pressure spike.

Shepard sighed again before checking her Omni-tool. “It’s due to be delivered to my apartment on the Citadel this afternoon. Since you’re not doing anything anymore, would you like to come along and find out?”

“Absolutely!” Sam chirped. “I can ask you all sorts of questions on the way there!”

Taking Sam’s hand, Annelise escorted Samantha to the (aforementioned) bulkhead doors. The woman’s shoulders slumped, but there was still a playful twinkle in her eye. “This is exactly what I was trying to avoid, you understand?”

Sam trotted along beside her, grinning ear to ear. “Understood and ignored!”

A (rather long) taxi ride later, the two women disembarked at a familiar boarding area just outside the Silversun Strip. Samantha held on to Shepard’s bicep, her series of questions still not exhausted during the commute. “—ow long have you been talking to my family behind my back? Is there anyone else back there you still talk to? Do you still keep in contact with that curmudgeon of a mechanic, Gavin? You know he’s still salty about the Alliance. Talks shit every time I come home—”

Shepard sighed again and picked up the pace. “Like I said thirty times before: you’ll find out when we get there!”

“But I want to know nowwww,” Sam whined, struggling to keep up with Annelise, her hand barely holding on.

Spinning on her heel, Annelise got right up in Sam’s face (causing the Comms Specialist to almost run into the marine). Her breath hot on Sam’s chin, Shepard leaned in really close. “Are you sure you want me to tell you?” Annelise asked, voice husky and low.

Several passersby stopped to stare, one even taking out an Omni-tool to start recording. 

It had the desired effect; Samantha shrank away slightly, flustered. Her eyes kept looking at green eyes, then down to pink lips, then back up again. She nodded, chewing her lip.

Those lips curled in a mischievous grin. “...Too bad. You’ll find out in a minute.”

Sam could barely take the time to scowl as a hand clasped her wrist and yanked her forward. The two women made their way down a side alley near a section of residences. The corner apartment lock glowed in response to Shepard’s Omni-tool scan, the door sliding open a moment later.

Holo lights triggered on a motion center flared to life in the kitchen and living room, illuminating a large crate in the center of the floor. The buckled, one meter by one meter metal crate did have some small wear and tear, mostly scuff marks around the rounded corners. A holo receipt spun on its axis just above the crate, a testament to a successful delivery. 

[“Just checking to see that my contact came through.Consider this one a freebie for all your hard work, Allison Gunn.- Kasumi Goto, Purveyor of Antiquities and Other Valuable Merchandise, Esquire

P.S. I watered your plants. And broke in the hot tub. You might want to restock the liquor cabinet, though. ”]

Allison Gunn… Allison Gunn… Why does that sound familiar?

“Oh. Kasumi. I should have known.” Sam didn’t dislike the hooded thief per se, but Kasumi took too much delight in jump scares via her tactical cloaking system. And Sam, easily scared prey that she was, had become a frequent target.

Crouching down, Annelise waved her Omni-tool over the package to engage the lock. She glanced up at Sam with a smile and tapped a freckled nose with her other hand. “If you need something smuggled, she’s the best. Don’t tell the Alliance I went under the table for this. I’m supposed to set an example.”

“Is this... Commander Bloody Shepard? Flouting proper channels and protocols to smuggle her girlfriend some goodies from home?” Samantha put some incredulous air into her voice, her smile wide. “When you did you become such a softie?”

“Oh, about ten showers ago,” Annelise replied without looking up, her eyes crinkling around the edges.

“Surely you’ve had more than—oh. Oh! ...I see what you did there,” Sam teased with a nudge of her hip to a kneeling Shepard’s shoulder.

“Figured you might.”

The large metal buckles flapped open with a satisfying pop, the container hissing as compressed air escaped. Whatever it was had been carefully pressured sealed during shipping to prevent spoilage or contents from shifting. 

Instead of reaching out to open the crate, Annelise stood back up. She waved her hand over it with a flourish. “For you, milady. Just as a disclaimer: this does ruin the scavenger hunt I had planned.”

“There was going to be a scavenger hunt?” Sam asked weakly, guilt bubbling to the surface.

I love scavenger hunts. Oh I hope there are puzzles. And riddles!

Not anymore, you git. You ruined it.

Oh bollocks!

“With puzzles and riddles,” Annelise confirmed. She opened her Omni-tool to show a scrolling list of haikus and rhymes following a vague map around the apartment.

Oh bollocks.

Sam was forlorn. “Bollocks, that looks brilliant.”

Annelise tilted her head with a sympathetic smile. She reached out and rubbed Sam’s shoulders. “Next time, Traynor.”

“I didn’t ruin it?”

“Never,” Annelise stated, leaning in for a small kiss. “You’ll just have to savor the suspense for next time.”

“But I hate savoring suspense.”

“I know! And that’s why it’s not ruined, because now I get to hold that over you and surprise you when you least expect it.”

“You’re a monster. A gorgeous monster, but a monster nonetheless.”

“Well, at least I’m gorgeous.” Annelise stretched out a foot to toe at the cracked lid, which bounced lightly. “Shall we?”

We shall.

Samantha leaned down and pulled the lid open. It was a smorgasbord of goodies. And a wave of delicious smells that prickled the back of Sam’s mind with a flurry of nostalgic memories.

A set of hard plastic containers were the source of the coolant leak, (mostly) her mum’s home cooking still flash-frozen. There were scrawls of labels on each one in her mother’s familiar penmanship.

“Auntie Amrita’s Famous Biryani (recipe included)”

“Samosas & Naan from Maharajah’s”

“Papri Chaat & Pakora”

“Geoffrey’s Famous Attempt at Rice Pudding” was written in a bolder script.

And not one but two containers were marked “Saag Paneer (no curry).”

Oh God how I’ve missed this.

She popped one of the saag paneer containers and just inhaled the rich, bitter smell. Unfortunately, the cubes of paneer were frozen in a sea of green sauce. She stacked the containers and motioned for Shepard to help with getting them in the fridge. 

Hands now free, Sam pointed a finger at Shepard then back at the crate. “Did you know what treasures were in here?” 

“Didn’t have a clue,” Annelise admitted as she kicked the refrigerator door closed with her heel. “Just messaged your family with EDI’s help and asked them what they wanted to send and what sort of container they’d need. ‘One with a cooler’ was all I had to go by. Kasumi handled the rest.”

“So this is as big a mystery for me as it is to you.”

“Yup. I was hoping to find out before you, though. Tailor my scavenger hunt accordingly.” She shook her head. “Lost to the annals of my Omni-tool now, I’m afraid,” Annelise said, her tone wistful.

Hmph.

A long, narrow box housed within the flash-freeze compartment hit Sam with a bold fragrance she would know anywhere. Before the wide flap was opened, she was chanting “Yes yes yes yesssss” under her breath. A long row of tea bags lined the box, local and exotic blends of the Terminus’s most popular flavors.

Red hair appearing in Sam’s periphery, Annelise cooed at her elbow, “Ooooo!” She reached a hand down to examine a bag, which Sam slapped away before making a hissing noise through the back of her teeth. 

Shepard held her hands out in surrender and took a few safe steps back. “...Jesus. Okay. Nevermind there, slugger.” She settled into a parade rest position and continued watching from a distance.

“You brought this on yourself. You know how I feel about my tea,” Sam said, clutching the box to her chest for emphasis. A corner edge dug into her boob from hugging too hard.

Rolling her eyes, Annelise shot Sam a withering glare. She sighed loudly before puffing air out of the corner of her mouth, causing her bangs to bounce. 

The last cooler item was a three-pack of yellow gel. Lemon curd. Oh mum, you’re the best. Sam shot a glare up at Annelise.

Hands fanning out in preemptive surrender, Shepard shook her head. “Trust me, I know better than to mess with that.”

“Good girl.”

Moving away from the perishable goods to the other side, Samantha found a small flat box with a familiar checkerboard pattern on top. Inside was a magnetic chess set, the white pieces so badly scuffed from use they were nearly as dark as the black set. It was the training set she and Dad has used when she was a kid. Small and portable and easy to carry on camping trips or long shuttle rides. It also included a holo pad set up for one-man matches against a VI when a ready partner wasn’t available.

Not quite as lovely as the rose quartz and hematite one in my Earth apartment, but it’ll do.

This she did offer up to Annelise, who accepted it curiously. The metal pieces rolled around in the box with a satisfying clatter, bringing back memories of junior high road trips to tournaments. Shepard engaged the VI holo pad and watched the pieces quickly assemble in position with magnetic snapping sounds. A computer-only match began, pawns taking turns advancing.

“This looks like it’s seen some shit,” Annelise remarked, continuing to watch the black and white pieces encroach on each other’s territory. Taken pieces slid their way around the surface to deposit themselves back in the box. A white pawn bumped into Shepard’s thumb a few times, trying to get back into the box.

Samantha smiled fondly, both at the gift and at Annelise. “You have no idea.”

“Do you want me to put this away in the bedroom?”

“Absolutely,” Sam agreed before changing her mind. “Actually, how about the dresser? I’d like to take a look at it.”

Nodding, Annelise trooped away up the extended stairwell to the upper floor. She disappeared into the bedroom, still watching the chess board play itself to completion.

Sam unwrapped the next gift, softly wrapped in a weather-proof cloth. Inside were a few sets of clothing, including one of her favorite sundresses and a few Horizon- and chess-themed t-shirts. She almost called out to Shepard to come back real quick and take this with her when a small square box fell out of the collection.

A small note was secured to the top, her mother’s handwriting in looping curves.

[“You should see this.”]

Feeling around the small square box, she found a single hinge along one side and flipped it open. She stared at the beautiful ring set into the black pillow inside. Another small note, rolled in a tube, was attached on a delicate thread.

[“Samantha,I think it’s time you had this. Auntie Amrita wanted it that way, I’m just sending it over a little early. And it seems to me like you’ve found someone special here. Just saying: if you want to make it official, you’ll need this.

We love you. Take care of yourself. And of her.- Mum & Dad

P.S. If a thief is reading this, shame on you. My daughter’s girlfriend (hopefully fiancee) is Commander Shepard and you are in serious trouble.”]

All Sam could manage was a strangled noise deep in her throat. It was a gorgeous ring. A gold band had with a large diamond at the center flanked by eight smaller diamonds around the center in a flower pattern. Three more diamonds formed triangles from either side, completing the flower look. 

“Hey Sam?” A voice called down, echoing from an unknown distance. “You done yet?”

She had to clear her throat a couple times before quickly stashing the box into her set of clothes. Sam called back, “Uh—ahem—uh yea? Did you need something?”

Instead of a response, she felt a ping to her Omni-tool. A small message appeared on the orange screen.

[Blasto: “Wash it and it isn't clean. Don't wash it and then it's clean. What am I?”]

Water.

...Perhaps hot tub water?

Only one way to find out.

[your-anxious-nightmare]

Adventures in Dad-ing (13)

Summary: Um... The court case finally happens and I’m not sorry. Word Count: 4102 Relationships: Prinxiety, FAMILIAL Moxiety, Platonic Logicality, Remile  Previous Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve,  (because I know this has problems, look up the tag ‘adventures in dading’ or ‘dad virgil’ on my blog archive and you’ll find all of them) Tags:  @katatles-the-fish   @karma-the-tax-collector    @analogical-mess   @rebeyerfdog (ask to be tagged xoxox) Warnings: Court proceedings, mentions of r*pe, panic attack, child being taken away Ao3

“Patton! Can you come here, please?” Virgil calls, hanging up the phone and flipping the pile of papers over to hide the contents. The banging of steps echoes down the hall, followed by the blonde child sliding into the room in his socks, hand grasping that of his friend who awkwardly shuffles in, eyes downcast from Virgil at the counter.

“Oh Logan, I didn’t hear you come in, how are you?” The boy just smiles kindly, hugging Patton’s arm tighter as he almost hides behind the shorter boy. It would have worked had Logan not currently been stood at a head taller than Patton. 

“That’s okay Logan, could you boys take a seat?” He smiles softly, turning to his biological son and motioning at the spare stools. The pair comply, Logan sitting farthest from the man as Patton sits next to him.

“Okay, you know how I’ve had lots of meetings recently?” Patton nods slowly, eyes wide and curious behind his glasses. “Well, a man wants to come over and talk to you about some things. Roman will come around as well and sit with you when he does so you don’t have to be nervous or anything. Is that alright?” 

“What sort of things?” 

Now, Virgil knew he should’ve told Patton earlier what was going on. He knew it was in his best interest to be honest with his son that his mother had come back and was threatening to take him away. But to say that to an eight-year-old, your own son, it’s not an easy feat.

“I’m not too sure. It’ll be a lot of what it’s like living here and school and things like that. He might ask about your mother as well. You don’t have to answer all his questions, you just have to be honest and tell the truth okay?”

“Okay Papa, I can do that.” 

“Alright, they’re gonna be here in a little bit, how about you go get cleaned up and I’ll call you when they arrive?” Patton nods happily and drags Logan from the room, leaving Virgil alone in the air of his deception once again. He leans his head into his hands and rests against the counter, mind racing with possible outcomes once again. 

What’s he gonna say when they come out of this? Patton’s definitely going to be curious what this was all for and he’s a smart kid. What if he gets taken away next week? How the hell do you tell your kid they have to move away to a parent they’ve never known because you failed at proving they’re better with you. 

A sob crawls up Virgil’s throat, his shoulders shaking with stuttered breaths. The tears don’t fall, simply pooling in his eyes as he cries soundlessly in the empty room. Distantly, he hears the echo of a knock at the door, and the stomping of feet down the hall but his breaths are too shallow and his hands are too shaky to even think of moving. 

A pair of arms wrap around his waist, soft curls brushing against his arm as someone leans against him. Warmth cuts through to his bones, holding him together as he feels like his world is falling apart around him. 

“Mr Patton’s dad? It’s gonna be okay.” Logan voice whispers, fingers grasping at Virgil’s black shirt. “I know what’s happening, I saw the papers last week. I won’t tell him. You’ll win, I know it.” 

A quiet thanks escapes his lips as his cries simmer down, a single tear finally falling down his pale cheeks as he squeezes the boy’s hand, relinquishing his hold on his hair and leaning back. Roman stands at the door uncomfortably shuffling his feet as he watches the pair. 

“Logan, why don’t you go see if Patton’s ready yet?” The boy nods quickly, giving Virgil one last hug before running off down the hall, leaving the two adults alone. “How are you holding up?” 

“I fucked up.” Virgil smiles sadly, arms reaching out for the teacher as he steps forward. 

“You didn’t eff up, you’re just protecting him,” Virgil mumbles in disagreement against his chest, gaining a loud laugh in response. “You’re gonna be fine Virge, it’s all gonna work out.” 

Another knock sounds at the door and Virgil takes a deep breath, steeling himself before opening the door to a man dressed in a large coat and scarf with sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose. 

“Mr Casey? I’m Christopher Critic. I’m the appointed lawyer here to talk to your son, may I come in?” Virgil stammers out an affirmation, opening the door wider to allow the man in, watching his judgemental gaze run over the house before falling on Roman, who once again stands awkwardly in the kitchen doorway. 

“Hi, I’m Roman Phillips, Patton’s teacher. I’ll be his support for your meeting.” Roman shakes the lawyer’s hand, a kind smile on his lips as he silently hopes for the scrutinizing gaze to stop. 

“Yes, well, let’s get this started then shall we? Best to do it sooner than later although this is very late in the process to begin in the first place.” Virgil directs him to the living room, as Roman makes a coffee for each of them. The father talks to the man for a few minutes, discussing what will be brought up before they call the boy in. 

Patton wears a nice t-shirt, one with a cat wearing a glittery bow on the front, and a pair of jeans with his cat slippers. His messy blonde hair has been clipped out of his face with a pair of blue hairclips and Logan stands at his side with a shy smile. 

“Patton, this is Mr Critic.” Roman introduces as he beckons the children into the room, both a little shy under the man’s harsh stare. A small hum leaves his lips as he writes on his clipboard, glasses sliding down his nose to reveal brown eyes that scan both children. 

“Hello sir, it’s nice to meet you.” Patton reaches a hand out to shake the man’s, stepping forward from his friends side with a smile. 

“Hello Patton, should we get started then?” Virgil nods, taking Logan from the room after giving Patton a small hug and closing the door behind them. Patton sits on the couch next to Roman, legs dangling slightly above the floor. 

“So Patton, how are you?” 

“I’m good sir, how are you?” 

“Rather well. You understand why I’m here?” He gains a small nod, “Good, I will be rather quick and direct with this, do not hesitate to say you would rather not answer. How is living with your father?” 

“It’s good. We have movie nights every Friday and he helps me do my homework on Wednesdays and on Saturdays we have hot chocolate for breakfast with waffles or pancakes or sometimes yoghurt and fruit.” Roman smiles at the boy as he sips his drink, knowing how nervous he must be to ramble and revert to a childish speech pattern. 

“Do you like living here?” 

“Yeah! There’s a park around the corner, that’s where I met Logan, and the school is really close and Dad teaches me to do the garden in springtime.” 

“Does your father ever hit you?” The lawyer continues taking notes, looking up occasionally to glance at the boy.

“No! Never!” Patton nearly yells, apologising when Roman winces at the harsh sound in his ear. “Papa would never hurt me. Even when I’m naughty he tells me what was wrong and we talk about why it happened. He would never hit me, he says violence isn’t the answer and you should talk about your feelings instead of bottling them up. You can’t fix things unless you let people know what’s wrong.” 

“That’s very astute, Patton. How is school?” 

“Um, it’s hard. I can’t focus very much but Mr Phillips is nice to me and we have tutoring at lunch sometimes when it’s really hard. The kids are nice too, some of them are a little mean but I just stay away from them.” 

“Okay, that’s a good choice. What about your mother, do you know her?” 

“No, Papa said she left when I was really little. He said he would explain more when I get older so I can understand more, but he said if I ever wanted to meet her he would get me her number so I can.” 

“Do you want to? Talk to her, that is.” 

“Kinda? I just wanna know why she isn’t around. Dad never says anything about her, just that she’s really pretty, and I look like her a lot. I don’t think I do though, I’m happy here and I know Dad loves me and that’s all I need.” 

“He doesn’t tell you stories about her?” 

“Not really. He told me about how they met, at school, but I don’t know much about her. Dad and I don’t really bring it up much, I don’t ask very often but when I do he answers my questions. Like I said, he doesn’t want to explain everything because he says I’m still a bit young to understand.” 

Within moments, Christopher Critic had left the building, notes in hand and a pursed smile on his lips. Virgil couldn’t tell if that was a good look or not but he gave the man a smile and left the sigh until after he was sure he’d driven away. 

**

When the morning of the last hearing broke and the house awoke once again, Virgil got dressed in the nicest pair of jeans he owned, still black, and a white shirt. Yes, it’s only a family court matter instead of actual court, but he felt it necessary to dress formally in front of a judge especially considering it’s the fourth and final hearing before the judge makes a decision. 

He packed up a bag for the boys while they ate breakfast, Remy and Emile had offered to look after them while Roman and Virgil got the verdict. Between the pair of them, they were the grandparents Patton didn’t get to have. They showered him with gifts and candy and Virgil was forever grateful for their support. 

With bags packed and shoes on, the group met two cars as they pulled up on the street. In the first, sat Roman, dressed much like Virgil and ready to help him through whatever may come. In the second, was Remy, sunglasses on and music blaring through the speaker as his dazzling smile welcomed the children. 

“Please be careful with him, Emile wouldn’t like us very much if his hand got stuck in the cookie jar again.” Virgil smiles at Patton, ignoring Remy’s sputtering as he helps the boys climb in the back seat. 

“Always, Papa. Logan and I will be the best babysitters.” With a hug and many smiles, Remy sets off, Patton singing along to his silly pop music as Virgil climbs into Roman’s car. 

“Ready, Vee?” Roman offers a soft smile, watching his boyfriend buckle up with shaking hands. 

“Not in the slightest.” Virgil looks up, blue eyes filled with fear. “Thank you for this, for all of this.” 

“It’s no problem, Virgil. I would go to the ends of the Earth if that’s what you needed.” Roman takes his hand, bringing it up to meet his lips with a light kiss. 

“Sap.” He snorts, leaning over to peck Roman’s lips before the latter sets off, turning the car down the winding streets towards the courthouse. The ride is silent, the couple holding hands across the centre console and both running over the many possibilities of what could happen. 

They arrive ten minutes early, using the time to talk to Virgil’s lawyer and make sure everything is in order before filing into the room. 

Virgil had warned Roman that the stuff that would be brought up was not going to be pretty, but boy was he underprepared. 

Meghann had brought up everything. She claimed Virgil had forced her that night, claimed he had abused her throughout the pregnancy, claimed he forced her out of the hospital after Patton was born. She had pictures of Virgil’s house showing it in various states of disarray, had ‘friends’ testimony that Patton had bruises. She pulled out all the stops. 

“And the response?” Virgil takes a deep breath, standing next to the lawyer with his folder and shaking hands. 

Virgil retells his whole story. Everything from the start of the relationship to that night, from the hospital visits to the time she left him with their sick child. Roman was in tears by his side in minutes, and it took all the man’s strength to keep going. 

“Mr Casey, Miss Frost, you understand this is a case of ‘he said, she said’ correct?” The judge asks, having just returned from the deliberation with the other authorities on the case. “Given the circumstances, I have made the ruling that the care of Patton Casey is given to Meghann Frost. Virgil Casey will be given visiting rights for the weekends and school holidays.” 

Virgil’s heart sinks. 

A pulsing fills his body.

“Mr Casey, I believe you are a good parent. But a child needs their mother and you have no irrefutable evidence to back up your claims. Go spend time with your son, Miss Frost will collect him at 8 pm tonight.” 

His head feels light, hands trembling. 

I should’ve told him, I should’ve told Patton, I should’ve warned him, I should’ve tried harder, I could’ve done more, I have to-

“Virge?” 

Hands, warmth, need to breathe, darkness-

“Virgil, can you hear me?” 

Lips, cold, heat, pain, pain? tight-

“Hey, there you are, Dreadful Beauty. You’re doing great, in and out, there you go.” 

Nails, scratching, digging, pain, soft-

“Can you open your eyes, Virgil?” 

Floor, that was the first thing Virgil saw when his heavy eyes finally opened. Cold, linoleum floor. He had been moved? The courtroom was wooden, when did that happen? Then black pants, a white shirt, Roman’s worried smile. His hands were closed around Virgil’s, fingers acting as a barrier between his own and his palms, skin broken with flashes of lightly pooling red. 

“Hey, no, steady breaths, come on, we just got you back.” Roman smiles, removing one hand and placing it on Virgil’s cheek, smiling lightly as he leans into the touch. 

“I-I- Wh- Th-” Virgil stammers, tongue feeling like a brick despite his best efforts to calm down. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk,” Virgil tries signing his words but Roman’s face goes blank. “I’m really sorry I don’t know enough sign language to understand, do you want to type it out?” Virgil nods quickly, accepting Roman’s phone with his free hand and shakily typing what he wanted to say. 

‘I just lost my kid, how can you say it’s okay?’

“Because you didn’t lose him.” Virgil’s eyes widen, confusion creasing his forehead. “Don’t look at me like that. You haven’t lost him because we will keep trying. We will find you more proof and bring her back here every week if we have too until they believe every word that comes out of your mouth.” 

‘I can’t afford that, this is stretching my limits as it is.’

“You have me and Remy and Emile, we have applied for aid, you can set up a GoFundMe. You can and will afford this and you will win this, okay?” Not believing his words, Virgil relents, nodding softly as tears fall down his pale cheeks. Roman brushes them away, helping the man up and collecting their things, supporting his weight all the way to the car. 

Sorrow hangs over the pair as Roman drives them over to Remy’s house. Sure, Virgil will still see Patton and Roman would see him at school, but that’s not the same. 

Seeing your child twice a week isn’t the same as waking up to them smiling with a mug of half-made coffee because they wanted to help. Seeing them for two weeks between terms isn’t the same as them running into your arms to tell you about a butterfly they saw at lunch. It just isn’t the same. 

Remy and Emile’s house is quaint. A small suburban home in a small suburban neighbourhood that looked like all the other houses down the street. Except for a rainbow-painted letterbox with handprints, the motorbike in the driveway and the gnomes standing guard at the door. 

Virgil couldn’t stand the thought of facing Patton, telling him what had been going on. He didn’t want to treat him like a baby but at the same time, he didn’t want him to worry. Really, it’s a lose-lose situation and Virgil is standing with both his hands in the cookie jar while the house goes up in flames. 

The door opens before either man can reach the first step, Emile standing with their arms open and a sad smile. Virgil doesn’t speak, allowing himself to be wrapped up in the warm embrace as Emile pats his hair. 

“It’s gonna be okay Vee, trust me,” Emile whispers, smiling sadly at Roman, who watches on with a mixture of determination and sadness in his eyes. 

“Is that Papa?” Patton’s voice calls from inside, Virgil stepping back and wiping his face, gaining a nod from his elder in the door before stepping in to catch his son in a hug, following him to find Logan and Remy in the living room with a collection of art supplies around them. 

“Not good?” Emile beckons Roman in, leading him to the kitchen where they can still see the group but talk without being heard.

“He’s lost full care, only weekends and school holidays.”

“I hate to say, but I knew it would happen. More often than not, the ‘female’ gets care no matter how bad they were in the beginning. It’s just surprising because when you walk, they treat you like you gave up your rights. I have to wonder if the judge was not impartial and has been on Virgil’s end as Meghann. Perhaps they have lost the child and wanted to give Meghann her chance.” 

“It doesn’t matter her previous experience, Virgil had more than enough evidence to back himself and she threw it out on the basis of him being a man, it’s disgusting.” Sure, she hadn’t explicitly said anything, but the look in her eye when Virgil said about the abuse, the way she doubted his medical records of the scratches and trauma from that night, it had said enough. 

“That just how it is sometimes, Roman. All we can do is keep fighting, and keep supporting.” Both of their eyes fall on Virgil, who had finally gained the ability to speak again and was leading Patton to the spare room to talk. Virgil nods to them as they pass, Roman smiling back and entering the room to save Logan from Remy’s too-loud personality. 

“Papa, what’s going on?” Patton sits on the bed as Virgil shuts the door, slowly resting next to him. 

“Patton, there’s, um, there’s something we have to talk about.” And so it starts. 

It takes far longer than it should, and it came far later than ideal, but Virgil explains everything. He tells Patton that his mother had come back and she wanted to see him. He explained that he went to a ‘meeting’ to talk to her about how long she could see him for.

“The person in charge said that they want you to live with her for a little while.” Virgil can feel the lie burning his throat, the tears edging their way to his eyes as Patton sits in silence in front of him. “They said you can still come back on the weekends, I’ll pick you up from school on Friday and then you’ll go back to your mum’s house on Sunday, and when the school holidays come around you’ll stay with me for that time.” 

“Do you not love me? Is that why you’re sending me away?” Patton’s voice is timid, scared, like his whole world had just come crumbling down.

“No, Patton! Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in the world.” Virgil’s tears finally give up, falling rapidly down his cheeks. “I want you to know that I fought so hard to stop this, baby, I would never send you away for anything, okay?” Patton nods shakily, playing with the hem of his top as he avoids looking at Virgil. 

“I’ll only see you on weekends? What about Logan? Will he be able to come with me? What if he’s sick again, where will he go if I’m not with you?” Even when faced with losing his home, Patton still cares more about his friend than himself, the thought brings more tears to Virgil’s eyes, sobs creeping their way up his throat.

“We can ask your mum if he can go over, but either way, Logan can still come stay at our-my house. You don’t have to worry about him okay? I’ll make sure he’s okay, you just take care of yourself.” The words fill his mouth with disgust, it should never be 'my' house, always 'our'.

“You promise you still love me?” Patton finally looks up, blue eyes filled with sadness and fear that tears Virgil’s heart into pieces. He opens his arms, letting Patton crawl into his lap and running his hand through the boy’s curls. 

“Of course I do Patty-cake, I will never stop loving you and I will continue to fight to get you back okay? It’s gonna be okay.” Neither Virgil nor Patton could decide who he was trying to convince, but it didn’t work either way. 

Within the hour, the family was back home, Roman and Logan sitting in the kitchen as Virgil helped to pack the things Patton would need most, the rest would be dropped off over the week. It was hard, both males cried as they put teddies and clothes into boxes, neither really wanting to face that Patton was leaving. 

“Hey guys, she just pulled into the driveway.” Roman peaks his head into the room, face masked with a sadness neither wanted to see. Without a word, Virgil picks up a few boxes, handing them to his boyfriend before helping Patton put on his school bag. 

“It’ll be okay Pat, I promise.” Virgil kneels in front of the boy, holding out his pinky. Patton smiles sadly, wrapping the fingers together and pressing his lips to his father's hand. 

“I know Papa, I trust you.” You shouldn’t, Virgil thinks, pulling the boy into a hug and kissing his head. A knock sounds at the front door and the pair separate, slowly walking out of the room with two more boxes. They reach the door to find Meghann, hair perfectly styled and skirt shorter than Virgil ever wanted to see again, glaring at Roman over a pair of dark sunglasses. 

“Oh Patrick, it’s so good to see you!” She coos, patting his shoulder lightly with her finger-tips, a smile plastered over her painted lips. 

“My name is Patton, it’s nice to meet you.” She huffs slightly, pointing him towards her car and letting Roman help him with his things. 

“Good to see your standards dropped after me.” Virgil glares at her, stepping down to give Patton another hug, holding back his tears as he helps him buckle into the car, grimacing at the rubbish littering the floor and pointedly ignoring what looks like a condom wrapper peeking out beneath the driver's seat.

“I’ll see you on Friday. If anything happens, you tell Roman at school tomorrow. I love you so much, okay? Don’t forget that.” 

“I won’t, Papa.” Virgil places a kiss atop Patton’s head and steps back, closing the door and returning to Meghann who’s turned her glare at a crying Logan in the living room window. 

“Well, see you on Friday then Virgie.” She smirks, spinning on her heel and marching down the stairs, stopping at the door of her car to turn and say “and I can’t wait for that child support check to come through.” 

Roman bounds up the stairs to catch Virgil, holding him tight as he trashes to attack the woman. The pair watch as she climbs inside, driving off with blaring music and leaving the father to fall apart in his boyfriend's arms. 

“It’s okay Virgil, we’ll get him back.” Roman holds him, cradling him tightly as they curl up on the doorstep, Logan joining shortly after with silent sobs and the need to be held.