#work and olympics are monopolizing my time :(

[missbubblesoda]

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (25)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (26) | (27)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn���t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 6.6k

Lord Koch started to prove you wrong the moment you walked through the ivy-covered gates of his suburban estate, early-blooming wisterias cascading down the fence and conspiring with the honeysuckles to conceal the impassable iron wall, making it look more like the secret back door to some fairytale garden than the main entrance to a wealthy family’s homestead. You had expected dozens of solicitous footmen, perhaps some even hired for the occasion only, busily striding around the gardens, flocking towards the guests with fizzy drinks on their trays and welcoming smiles on their faces, politely offering to help with their frock coats and dainty parasols. Just as it was expected at any other Sunday gathering in Mitras. Or Saturday, in this case.

Instead, the only ones greeting the guests at their arrival were the imposing cedars flanking the sunlit path that led to the placid, flawlessly circular pond in the middle of the main garden. After that, guests were on their own, left to figure out, or finger guess depending on each individual’s personal approach, which one of the sprawling paths before them could possibly take them to the place where distant violins, faint laughters and the soft clinking of glasses could be heard coming from.

It was clear that whoever got invited to the celebration should’ve been there previously, perhaps numerous times, and therefore, well-acquainted with the Kochs. Acquainted enough to know their way around the property and the complex system of azalea shrubs spreading in all sorts of confusing directions, flowering under the sun as their glossy leaves danced in the wind, something more like a maze than a garden. And you couldn’t help but feel that a map should’ve been provided with the invitation, or at the entrance at the very least, because there was no way a stranger like you could find the courtyard mentioned in the invitation all by themselves. And for a moment, a silly idea crossed your mind, maybe this was some sort of task Lord Koch had designed so the guests could prove themselves worthy of attending his party. It seemed like he wanted only his true friends there on that special day. But luckily for you, your father was there to lead the way.

Amidst the excitement leading up to that special day, you had forgotten about your father, your head completely monopolized by the thought of your first date with the Commander, because… yes, that’s right, in your head, this was about you and him, and not about Lord Koch and his birthday. He already had forty nine of those for heaven’s sake, but this…this was a first for you and the Commander; the charity ball clearly not counting because, one, you hadn’t been together in that sense back then, and two, you had attended as his assistant and not his ‘princess’. So it was no wonder that, between choosing your dress, the right underwear, and daydreaming about dancing head-on-his-chest all afternoon, you had been unable to reach the obvious conclusion that your parents would most likely be attending the reception too. And it was not until you arrived home the previous night, completely unannounced and looking to surprise them, that you ended up surprised instead when your mother excitedly broke out the news during dinner.

And your father was particularly thrilled about finally getting to meet the Commander of the Survey Corps, ‘the man who saved my daughter’s life’ in his own words. He was arguably more thrilled about it than about the apple toddies, and that was a huge claim to make considering how many of those he was known to chug down on a single evening. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t excited yourself, not about the toddies, which by the way you weren’t sure they would be serving when it was barely ten in the morning, but about everything else. Sleep had evaded you for the most part of the previous night, your stomach swarmed with colorful butterflies that resembled the ones now fluttering above the Koch’s blooming azaleas, and your heart gleefully springing inside your chest at the thought of him meeting your parents.

You knew it was not like he would be asking for your hand in marriage right there in the middle of Lord Koch’s courtyard. They would probably shake hands, maybe share a drink or two while your father expressed his gratitude, and then walk separate ways without asking your parents for their blessing. But, it’s just that… you couldn’t help it…it all felt so official all of a sudden.

Yes, admittedly, no one else in this world, besides Hitch, knew about the things the two of you would do behind the closed doors of his office, but…What did he think people would say once they saw you together at the party? This was not work-related, this was not some formal event he was required to attend as the Commander of the Survey Corps. It was just his friend’s birthday lunch, an occasion that didn’t call for the presence of his assistant. And, once your favorite ballad came on and you found yourselves slow dancing under some wisteria pergola, your hand resting in his, and your head, on his shoulder…did he think people would just shrug their shoulders and look the other way thinking ‘yep, that’s his assistant’?

Before asking you to come, had he considered the possibility that once they saw him pull your chair out, helping you in like the gentleman he is, possessive hand resting on the small of your back and your lips smiling lovingly at the gesture…people would undoubtedly start asking questions about the nature of your relationship?

Like you knew your parents were.

You didn’t know what they were thinking, but you knew they were thinking something. Your mother was too well-versed and frighteningly skilled at concealing her thoughts, she was too proficient in the occult arts of vanishing any trace of emotion from her face within seconds, before anybody noticed anything, no matter how shocking or scandalous the news were. However, you saw the look of surprise in her eyes when you told her who you’d be attending the reception with. It was brief and you had almost missed it, but it was there nonetheless. She hadn’t said anything, but there were signs. She hadn’t asked questions, but you knew she wondered. You knew she did, just like many at the party would.

So, all things considered, how could you blame yourself for feeling this was official? How could you get mad at yourself for believing this was some sort of announcement? Yes, subtle and silent, but an announcement regardless. And you were loving every second of it. As evidenced by the beaming smile you wore as you stepped into Lord Koch’s courtyard, the pistachio-colored tulle of your dress joyfully dancing in the balmy spring breeze.

You had chosen open shoulders for the occasion, a symmetrical hemline falling all the way down to your ankles, and dainty flower embroidery to harmoniously blend in with all the pansies and forget-me-nots of the garden. Oh, and no open slits this time because your mother was also coming.

The top was narrow and fitted, gradually widening out from the waist into a relaxed skirt, and you had skipped the puffy petticoat because you didn’t want Lord Koch to think you were trying to steal attention from him.

Your favorite part of the dress was undoubtedly the long puffy sleeves that fell all the way down to your wrists, made of semitransparent tulle and adorned with small, pretty butterflies that perfectly matched the blue ones on the pin your mother had kindly placed on your hair before leaving the house.

Considering the carriage he had driven to the base last winter, you could be forgiven for expecting nothing less than an equally opulent and effusive display of wealth on Lord Koch’s end, and make no mistake, the courtyard of his manor was a display of wealth in every sense of the word, just not the extravagant type. Somehow, it managed to be well-mannered and even unassuming at times.

His house was more like a castle than anything else, yet there was a comforting sincerity in the clear crystal windows and the way they would reflect the gentle morning sun; a graceful spontaneity in the wildflowers and the way they would grow in the most unexpected of places, whether it was a crack on the wall or inside the stone fountain at the entrance of the garden.

The wise willow, towering over the pond at the far end of the meadow, brought effortless elegance into an already gracious scene, and the glasshouse keeping it company looked like the type of place you’d love to spend a whole summer in, with a cold lemonade and a good book in hand, even if you didn’t enjoy reading that much.

It was there in the courtyard where you understood why there was no staff positioned at the estate’s entrance. Turns out they were all here, in the inner garden, one hand tucked behind their back and the other skillfully balancing silver plates, as they gracefully dodged the puffy skirts of the ladies and the walking canes that the gentlemen loved to sway around when gesticulating.

And you had to give it to the waiters, the feat they were pulling was almost acrobatic, considering how packed the garden was. The number of guests before your eyes, throwing their heads back laughing while joyfully toasting to each other’s prosperity, convincingly attested to Lord Koch’s remarkable popularity. He surely had a lot of people he could call friends, and you knew it was going to be pretty challenging to locate the one specific friend you were looking for.

You glanced around on your tiptoes and off into the multitude, but he was nowhere to be seen. It was going to take some time to find him, so you figured you’d better start now. You turned around to let your parents know, only to realize the crowd had swallowed them too. Figuring you’d run into them sooner or later when lunch was served, you took a deep breath and ventured into the sea of people, trying to stay out of the waiters’ way and making it past smiling faces you’d seen at multiple other parties throughout the years, albeit now they looked slightly different, and older, than they did back then.

As you politely nodded back to a friendly-looking lady whose eyes seemed unable to leave your dress, it hit you that you hadn’t mingled like this in a while. After spending what some would call ‘the better years of your life’ in training camp, and right after that, moving to the middle of the forest for the Survey Corps, you hadn’t attended a birthday party in like forever.

Not much had changed though, at least not when it came to the way you felt about events like this one, and certainly not when it came to the way they made you feel. The anxious drumming in your chest was still ever-present, and the uncontrollable need to fiddle with your hair whenever you felt a stranger’s eyes on you was very much still a reflex action. You didn’t know if it was because of the same reasons as you, but you felt like you understood Captain Levi and why he disliked such gatherings. You weren’t close with him at all, but maybe someday you could bond over this and your appreciation for good tea, who knows?

You grabbed a tantalizingly golden tartlet from a nearby waiter as he walked past you. As expected, only the food made these kind of experiences worth it. The food and, in this particular occasion, him, of course.

You nodded in delight as the caramelized pear melted in your mouth, simultaneously satisfying both your sweet tooth and all the butterflies in your stomach in a single bite. Buttery, flaky and unexpectedly rich. Once you moved to the cabin in the woods, you would prepare pear tartlets like this one for him too. The comforting smell of home-baked love escaping through the open kitchen window, riding on the gentle spring breeze as it caressed your cheeks just the way it was right now in the middle of the courtyard garden.

Our little cabin. You smiled, looking around to find the man you dreamed to share it with.

And you saw Leon, standing under the shade of the breezeway not too far from you, back resting against a pillar and a rose-colored liquid in his glass as he conversed with a tall, auburn-haired lady.

You waved at him from afar when his eyes accidentally met yours, and, not wanting to interrupt the conversation, limited your interaction to a smile. However, being the welcoming soul you’d known him to be, he invited you to join him and his companion by mouthing a silent ‘Do you have time?’

As you made your way to him, you exchanged smiles with the lady he was with. She was young, very young, as suggested by her round face and the plump, dewy cheeks that came with it, which you were certain would bounce like jelly under your finger. She appeared to be in her twenties too, although her small, button-like nose and other angelic features made you suspect she was a little younger than you.

Her fitted, velvet dress hugged her body in ways only custom-made dresses could, and the hunter green skirt, flawlessly accentuating the reddish-browns of her hair, reminded you of the winged cloak you would wear every day back at the base. The dark color, as well as the narrow, tight maturity of the dress contrasted the innocence present in her soft features. Features that were just as warm as Leon’s, especially when coupled with the welcoming smile she was gifting you with.

“My lady.” Leon’s soft lips greeted the back of your hand as it was quickly becoming tradition whenever you met. “I fail to identify the nature of the spell you cast on us, and forgive me if talks of witchcraft and sorcery come off as wicked or impudent in any way, but supernatural powers are the only acceptable explanation as to why your beauty seems to intensify with every passing season.”

You were only able to giggle, his convoluted compliment reaching your ears and pleasantly tickling your confidence.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Leon, and you happen to own the kind of eyes that only see the good in everyone and everything. But thank you, I’m flattered.” You admitted as he let go of your hand. “And I believe we agreed to use each other’s given names?”

“He completely refused to use my given name until, I believe… the seventh year into our relationship was it?” The angelic-looking lady turned to Leon, her head adorably tilting to the side in thought, and you couldn’t help but find it satisfying: The way her honey voice was just as melodious as you’d imagined the sounds made by those beautiful lips would be.

“My lady, this is my good friend Angelika.” Leon said, gracefully signaling to his left. “Perhaps you are already acquainted with each other, since you both live in the same ward.”

Angelika. You couldn’t help but smile at the gratifyingly fitting name. The leaf-shaped brooch on her hair looked a lot like a family crest, and the diamonds embedded all around it, as well as the ‘double-u’ engraved in the center, told you that she descended from a noble lineage, as you suspected at least half of the partygoers did. But what really called your attention was the prismatic moonstone decorating her delicate beauty bones, perfectly shaped like a raindrop, and making you wonder if the occult was among her interests.

“Oh please, Leon, the northern ward is just as big as my father’s ego.” She joked, taking your hand into hers, dainty and covered in satin all the way down to her elbows. “Truly a pleasure, my lady.”

“The pleasure is mine, Lady Angelika.” You returned the gorgeous smile she was offering.

Lady Angelika was endearing in a dignified, elegant way; and you couldn’t help but notice that her expressive hazel eyes went well together with the enchanted forest Leon had in his, much like the honey pistachio loaf your mother would bake every year in the fall.

And it was not only their eyes that complemented each other, but the atmosphere surrounding them as well. Much like the sparkling stream running down the meadow behind them, and the horses leisurely grazing along its waters, there was a natural authenticity to them. One you would have undoubtedly remembered had you been around it before, especially considering Lady Angelika’s remarkable grace.

“My lady, you ought to stop looking at me like that or I might start questioning my personal preferences.” She joked, a smile on her lips and your hand still on hers. “And I’m afraid ten in the morning on a Saturday is too early to have that type of conversation.”

“Oh, please forgive me.” You chuckled lightly, letting go of her hand. “I was just wondering if you were aware of the power that moonstone holds.”

She reached for the gemstone hanging around her neck “Oh this? Of course, Leon gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday.” She explained as her fingers caressed it fondly. “He bought it from a witch down south. Apparently she found it right in the center of the footprint left by that gigantic titan who destroyed Wall Maria.” You felt your whole body tensing up at her words. “You know, the first time it appeared. She believes it used this moonstone to make itself invisible, that’s the only logical explanation as to how a creature of such colossal measures managed to appear and disappear into thin air without anyone seeing it coming.”

Your throat felt impossibly tighter all of a sudden, all incoming air failing to reach your lungs. You didn’t necessarily believe moonstones granted anyone the power of invisibility, neither the ability to wander around only in spirit, and you had meant the question as a lighthearted joke, never considering it could backfire, and definitely not expecting Lady Angelika’s answer to make you reminisce about Bertolt’s genuine smile and Reiner’s sweet disposition.

“Are you, perhaps, also interested in gemstones and their magical properties, my lady?” Leon suddenly asked, prompting you to blink away the bittersweet melancholy and the confusion that usually followed any train of thought that led to your ex-classmates.

“I- my father- It’s one of his favorite topics to discuss at the dinner table.” You explained, chuckling nervously in an attempt to compose yourself. “Did you perhaps attend Orvud Academy, Lady Angelika?”

“Oh my, are you a diviner?!” She jumped excitedly. “Yes, I did! Until the eighth grade, before Father decided to move me and my sisters to another institute in Ehrmich.”

“Then maybe we coincided in the corridors a few times.” You suggested, feeling your chest lightening up the farther away you walked from the uncomfortable topics discussed a few sentences ago. “I also went to Orvud.”

“Maybe we did! Oh my, Leon, this world is so small!” She turned to her friend, the delight present in her voice, and the gleeful way in which she started tugging at his hand, made you think of a little kid trying to lead their favorite parent to the candy store. “Although I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t remember me.” She suddenly turned her head towards you. “I looked very different back then. I was so…outlandish.” She concluded, sporting the face of someone who’d just smelled the food that had caused them indigestion.

“Sometimes, in moments of dejection or self-doubt, I find reassurance in knowing that I no longer look, nor act, like I did back in eighth grade.” You said, her smile instantly evolving into a soft, silvery laugh that was as delicate and angelic as you expected hers to be.

“Next time I’m feeling down, I’ll give it a try.” She promised.

“Is there a reason why you changed schools, my lady?” You asked, feeling comfortable enough to let your curiosity wonder and wander.

“Father believed the institutes at Ehrmich taught better chess. I wanted to stay in Orvud because all my friends were there. Not to mention Ehrmich is in the literal opposite side of town, and even to this day, I still grieve the precious minutes that the long ride home took away from my youth.” She complained dramatically. “But I can’t complain. And neither can Leon.” Lady Angelika smiled mischievously at her friend. “That’s where he first laid eyes on me, and also where I became the inspiration for his first book.”

Leon smiled back, and it was the type of smile that told you this was a conversation he already had way too many times, yet somehow, still wasn’t tired of.

“Your beauty is indeed of remarkable proportions, my dearest Angelika.” He said, lightly raising his glass as if making a toast to his friend’s comeliness. “However, as we have discussed several times in the past, the source of inspiration for my first published work, or muse, if the casual scribbling I do from time to time were to be considered a form of art, was the cloudless sky I had the providential fortune to exist under during the summer I spent in Karanes.”

“Leon fell in love with a married woman, and she had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Quite scandalous. Isn’t it?”

Lady Angelika’s opportune translation painted a smirk on your face as you raised a probing eyebrow at Leon. And you expected his ears, as well as his cheeks maybe, to turn red the moment his friend’s words reached them, but you should’ve known better than to expect that from someone of such poised, elegant bearing. Instead, he allowed a relaxed, graceful laugh to escape his lips before a reply could.

“She was indeed married, but I didn’t fall in love with her.” He explained calmly, the easiness in his demeanor evidencing that he was already used to be teased by his friend. “Her loving husband and sweetheart of many years stands in this very courtyard as we speak, so I would sincerely appreciate it if we could keep away from distasteful misunderstandings.” He took another sip of his drink as his eyes scanned the room. “Ending the day with a black eye is certainly not one of the goals I set for myself this morning when I sat down with my diary and my favorite breakfast tea.”

“Oh, is she around then?” Lady Angelika asked excitedly, giggles decorating her voice as she tried her best to find an unknown face in the crowd.

“She is not. If you’d studied the poems with the careful perusal they demanded, maybe you’d know that such elusive beauty tends to evade congested occasions like today’s.” He teased, and his friend dramatically placed a hand over her chest in response, pretending to take offense.

“May I ask what the book's title is?” You smiled mischievously, curiosity tickling your mind. “I’ll admit I’m not the avid reader myself, but I’m willing to give poetry my undivided attention if it promises to uncover the mysterious identity of Leon’s first love.”

“Walking artwork. Talking poetry.” He replied, shaking his head in amused disapproval. “That’s the name of the book.” Your eyes widened in realization, suddenly remembering the blue book with faded golden letters that the Commander kept in his office, surely one of his favorite reads, and after today, one you’d definitely be borrowing sometime soon. “And as I said, my lady, she wasn’t a love of mine, but even if she was, I can assure you that by the time serendipitous fate brought our paths together, the title of ‘first’ had already been long claimed.”

Lady Angelika gave Leon a complicit smile that told you she knew exactly who that title belonged to. “Leon’s lust and uncontrollable desire for this married woman really comes to life in vivid colors thanks to all those forbidden words he so artistically painted her with.” She said giggling, looking at Leon as if trying to elicit a reaction from him, but all he had for her was an uninterested eye roll. “I would have given anything, even this very moonstone on my neck, only to see Aunt Freya’s flustered face once she reached chapter nineteen.” And the sultry way in which she sank her teeth on her bottom lip made you desperately want to know what exactly went down in chapter nineteen.

“I would consider it a miracle if Mother ever so much as touches one of my books.” He joked before bringing the glass to his lips, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was using the pink sparkly liquid to hide something that wasn’t as rosy.

“Of course she reads your books!” Lady Angelika exclaimed confidently, and you wondered if she too had noticed the same shift you had. “If I had a son as talented as you, I would never shut up about him.” She said proudly before turning to you. “Father used to get so annoyed at Uncle Hansel because he would never stop talking about Leon’s books whenever they played chess together.” Lady Angelika giggled, her eyes traveling briefly to the sky as if it was there where she kept all her memories. “Father felt that Uncle Hansel would just brag about ‘that gifted little nephew of his’ all evening and never focus on the game, which… even if we were to say that was the case… how come Father never managed to win a single one?” She chuckled before turning to Leon to clarify. “Nothing personal, you know how Father is. But I always understood Uncle Hansel and why he couldn’t stop gushing about his nephew. I was just as captivated by him.” She said fondly, and there was a hint of nostalgia in the sweet smile she was offering her friend. “And his work, of course!” She added rather abruptly.

“You praise me too much, my dearest Angelika. But my writing isn’t the slightest bit as impressive as your abilities in chess are.”

“Nonsense.” She said before turning to you, dismissing the compliment with a flick of her hand, a gesture that told you that her skills were probably every bit as impressive as Leon had implied. “My lady, I know you said reading is not among your interests but, by any chance, do you happen to enjoy ghost stories? In my humble, and probably very biased yet still fairly accurate opinion, there’s nothing like sitting by the fire on a blustery night, Leon’s horror anthology in one hand and something warm in the other, the wind ominously knocking at your window while his writing transports you to macabre dimensions.” She said, shuddering as a result of the goosebumps she had so willfully self-induced.

You chuckled, the lightness in you heart making you realize how rare days like these were. Since you had joined the Training Corps, and especially after becoming a Scout, it was as if the stakes were always high, in everything you did. It felt as if there was no normalcy in your life, or at least not like you once knew it. And, although you wouldn’t trade your life at the base for anything, you couldn’t deny that it was nice to enjoy ordinary moments like this every now and then. “That sounds frightfully enticing indeed, a perfect night made possible only by the comfort of knowing that, in the end, it’s all folktales and fiction.”

“Oh, but they are not fictional.” She was quick to clarify, shaking her hand promptly as if to make you understand how important it was for you to know this before proceeding any further. “Most of Leon’s stories are based off real life experiences, and that makes them all the more exciting! ‘Distant Cries from a Childless Town’ is based on the sinister events of that summer Leon spent traveling around Wall Rose.” She explained enthusiastically. “The second story, which is also my sister’s favorite, is about a priest who kept a human-sized titan locked in his basement. I won’t tell you how it ends, or how the titan got there in the first place, but from the title of the book you can pretty much guess, can’t you? What I will tell you, however, is that you’ll fall for the main character just as everyone does!” She made the face your father always did when daydreaming about your mother’s green tomato pie. “He’s loosely based off one of Leon’s closest friends, a super cute boy from the Trost countryside.” She tugged at Leon’s sleeve as if trying to get him to gush together with her. “His name was Jean. I met him one summer when he came to stay with Leon. Come to think of it, Leon is always friends with the dreamiest, most fascinating people.”

The way her eyes sparkled as she gazed into the sunlit fields, lips curved into a soft smile and fingers absentmindedly playing with the moonstone around her neck, told you that she was probably reminiscing about the happiest summer of her adolescent years. And you couldn’t help but chuckle, wondering if the Jean of Leon’s story was the same one you knew. He was from Trost too and, from your understanding, also childhood friends with Leon. And if it was him, you would have no option but to laugh at how comedic it all was. To think he had a secret admirer in Mitras, and not only that, but the fact that she was a member of the nobility… Heaven forbid he ever found out, because the one you knew, your Jean, his ego definitely did not need another boost.

Although, in all fairness, you kind of understood where Lady Angelika was coming from. Him and Reiner had always been the most popular among the ladies back at Training Camp. In fact, when you first met Jean, you had also thought he was really cool. It was the very first day of ODM practice, and although everyone else was struggling, he seemed to be a natural at it. However, you also remembered how quickly all form of curiosity and wonder had vanished, that same night at dinner to be more specific, when you saw him engage in one of those embarrassing fights him and Eren loved to have.

“He was so well-mannered and smelled so good all the time.” Lady Angelika continued her recollection of the events of that summer, just as your mind started to get flooded by memories of a very different summer, one where Eren and Jean never stopped throwing scrambled eggs and baked tomatoes at each other. “His hair was so soft and he was so manly we both fell in love with him.”

It was so sudden and unexpected, that you couldn’t stop your eyes from opening as wide and as inappropriately as your eyelids allowed them to.

“Leon and I didn’t talk to one another for weeks after that, until we finally waved our little white flags and agreed neither of us would pursue him. After that, we hugged and decided to go for chocolate pastries. We were so silly back then. Do you remember, Leon?”

“I would argue we still are.” He responded amusedly, bringing the glass to his lips and swirling the contents lightly before taking a sip.

Lady Angelika chuckled as she leaned over the handrail, her hair playing with the wind as she gazed at the pasturing horses, and you wondered if the longing smile present on her lips meant that she was still reminiscing about Jean. Leon, on the other hand, was looking at no one and nothing in particular, taking occasional sips from his glass until it was completely empty. And something, probably the wistful smile he was wearing, told you that he we was most likely thinking about those days too.

And about Jean, perhaps.

“I absolutely enjoy horror stories.” You blurted unprovoked after some uncomfortable seconds of silence, fearing it might escalate into something even more awkward. You weren’t sure if Leon was comfortable with you knowing such personal details about him, especially when you were acquainted with Jean yourself. “And I greatly appreciate the personalized recommendation, Lady Angelika. However, I think I’ll start with Walking Artwork and leave the sinister stories for bolder times, you know… for the sake of chronological order. I’m also curious to see how Leon’s writing evolved over the years.”

Leon let his head fall to the side both in suspicion and disbelief, squinting his eyes as if asking you to get it over with.

“And of course, because I’m interested in uncovering the married lady’s mysterious identity as well as what became of her.” You finally confessed, a giggle escaping your lips when you saw him roll his eyes and shake his head in disapproval. You had to admit that there was a very particular type of pleasure to be derived from teasing Leon, and you were beginning to understand why Lady Angelika seemed to enjoy it so much. “The Commander has that book in his personal collection. I might just borrow it on Monday and begin my research as soon as we go back to the office.”

“Even if you succeed in uncovering her identity, little does it matter, my lady; given the fact that my interest in her was purely artistic and never romantic.” He replied, shrugging his shoulders as if he was sorry to disappoint you. “As of what became of her, I’m happy to report that I’m still very much welcomed with warm geniality by both her and her darling daughters whenever I find myself in Karanes.” He signaled with a shake of his glass. “With that said, I’m truly honored and delighted, if I may allow myself such pleasures, to know that someone with Commander Smith’s intellect and literary knowledge found something of value in my dull first work. I have never been able to bring myself to read it again.”

“Huh? You work with Commander Smith?” Lady Angelika asked, the newfound piece of information lighting some sort of spark in her eyes, and you weren’t sure you could call it simple curiosity.

Nodding proudly, you looked around the garden, eyes surveying the room and a comfortable type of excitement bubbling inside you at the thought of finding his blue eyes in the crowd any time now.

“I had the pleasure of starting my rounds conversing with him by the central pavilion. Maybe he’s still there.” Leon looked in the direction of the marble-columned structure, as if trying to find him too. And you caught yourself trying to guess what the nature of their exchange was, something that admittedly troubled you more than a little, given the misunderstanding from a few weeks prior. “He must be looking for you too.”

You turned to Leon and were surprised to discover a smile full of understanding shining your way. And you sincerely hoped the nervous laugh that escaped your lips as a response could act as some sort of distraction so your burning cheeks and tomato ears could go unnoticed.

But you knew that he had been there that night, at the castle, in the dining hall, just a few rooms away from your office and all the wonderful things the Commander had been making you feel on top of his desk. And you also knew that, if he’d happened to hear something then, no amount of damage control you did now would be enough to erase it from his memory.

And like so, before you started acting more like a tomato and less like a person, you decided it was the perfect moment to start exchanging closing nods and parting smiles with Leon and Lady Angelika, which you did before heading in the direction he had pointed you to. Lady Angelika looked like she wanted to say something, and had it been any other moment, you would’ve waited. But, right now, all you wanted was to take your flustered face away and hide it in the Commander’s welcoming chest while you danced to a slow song or two.

“My Lady.” Leon’s sudden call of your name made you turn around abruptly. “Just one more thing.” He said as he approached you, putting some distance between Lady Angelika and him, and lowering his voice as if to ensure nobody else could hear what he was going to say. “I had a conversation with my dear uncle the other day, and I explained to him about the nature of our budding relationship.” He smiled mid-sentence as if to let you know it was okay, and you had to admit that any form of reassurance was very much welcome at the moment, especially when you had no clue where all this was heading. “I was very specific in my request, and by ‘very specific’ I mean I carefully treaded through all the poetical trap my tongue usually falls into, and sincerely asked him to stop hindering the growth of our blossoming friendship with the shadows his well-intended efforts are casting.”

His eyes lingered in the central pavilion’s direction for a while, seemingly taking his time organizing the words inside his head before saying them out loud. “Although very little use it has, I apologize if his remarks resulted in any kind of misunderstanding or inconvenience for you.”

You stared at his apologetic smile in silence, trying to make sense of the words that had just left his mouth. And maybe it was the tinge of remorse in his eyes or the way their attention would shift between you and the central pavilion, but something told you that he probably held the answer to the question you had been trying to get the Commander to respond.

No. Not probably.

He definitely did.

Did Lord Koch talk about you and Leon in a way that made the Commander think you were involved romantically? You didn’t know for sure, yet you knew two other things: One, if he had indeed said something, Leon would absolutely know what it was; and two, he would totally tell you if you asked.

But before you could do so much as open your mouth, Lady Angelika’s melodious voice called his name and he smiled apologetically before turning to her, leaving you there, stranded in the middle of the crowd, with nothing but questions to hold on to.

And you would have remained there for longer, had a flurried waiter not bumped into you, knocking the butterfly pin off your hair and making it bounce on the glossy marble tiles.

You looked down just in time to see it slide under a crystal table, and bent down to reach it, only to find that a gentle hand had gotten there first.

“Thank you, but it’s fine. I got it.” You said as your hand brushed past warm, manly fingers.

“I know you do, but let me.” Replied a rich, velvety voice you had only heard on your happiest moments.

You rose up as fast as your faltering legs allowed, your heartbeat like the frenzied flapping of hummingbird wings, and the reason for that, standing right in front of you, holding the blue butterfly in his welcoming hand, the sun sparkling on the metal pin in the same mesmerizing way it did on the sapphires he had on his face.

-

next chapter

taglist: @mysticalnightbeliever @aliasrising @elnyrae @mchlist @apts2000 @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis @goddessinsweats @nube55 @jeanboyjean @crazychaoticizzy @braunsbabe @erwinawesomeness @lucifers-nipple-piercing @karmabyfernando @thicc101q @shittyprofilebutfuckit @dilfenthusiast-union

[damnprecious]

I got tagged by @little-escapist​, thank ya!!

Favourite color: Oranges and the shades of blue are the faves

Currently reading: I’ve been in a bit of a reading slump, I have barely even read any fics in a few weeks now :/ I fell behind in the tags I often frequent and now can’t seem to get back into it at all

Last song: Dynazty - Waterfall bc I saw little-escapist’s song tag post and got curious what it was, I quite like the sound of the band, I think I need to look more into it

Last movie: Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End

Last series: I think the last thing I watched was 911 Lone Star’s newest episode?

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: Not spicy, I like both sweet and savory

Currently working on: Collecting up my brain cells after a bout of ‘oh god stuff is out of place in my flat’ and gathering up strenght to go play with my sheet laundry in the drying room, gotta make sure it dries evenly but the floor is my friend rn

I shall be tagging @doggytail-duck @ropsus and @damatris if yall feel like doing the thing!!

[eury--dice]

history, huh?

chapter one: principium

(or: the Red, White, and Royal Blue TRC AU, but no knowledge of the book is needed to read this! ao3 link in the rb)

Adam knew he was in trouble when he found himself covered in cake, champagne, and shattered glass while clutching onto someone’s sleeve.

Admittedly, the memory of the night as a whole is a bit fuzzy around the edges, softened by jet lag and overwhelming anger and a few flutes of champagne worth more than the house Adam grew up in. But he remembered enough to recall some key details: one, it was no ordinary reception, it was the royal wedding; two, the cake covering him was the 75,000-dollar royal wedding cake; and three, that he clutched onto His Royal Highness, Prince Ronan Lynch-Mountchristen-Windsor, while covered in the remnants of his champagne flute.

It was an international relations nightmare that a rational Adam Parrish, the first son of the United States, would pay to avoid at all costs. Even the slightly-inebriated Adam could feel a distant spark of fear over what Maura and Calla were going to say to him once he was not covered in frosting and brawling with a treasured member of the English monarchy. (Well, “treasured” was a relative term. Prince Ronan was more of a recently-reformed scandal than a treasure.)

But as he caught a glimpse of Blue’s expression, a carefully constructed mask of surprise for the cameras that only those who knew her personally could read the amusement behind, Gansey’s hand wrapped around his wrist and yanked Adam off of the ground. 

He must have abandoned his conversation with Roger Malory to come and bail Adam out; deep down, beyond the adrenaline and anger and alcohol pumping through his veins, Adam was touched at the gesture. Guilt also hit him with the knowledge that Gansey hadn’t had a chance to talk to Malory since he left England as a teenager and now Adam had ruined that, but he tucked it away to examine at a later moment.

Adam thought he might have heard Ronan mutter “Oh my fucking Christ” from somewhere behind him in his stupid posh accent. Slinging an arm around Adam’s frosting-coated shoulders to steer him towards the Secret Service Agents already surging forward, Gansey leaned his head towards Adam’s and whispered around a smile, “What the fresh hell did you do?”

And, well. It was a good question. He glanced back at Ronan where he lay on the ground, already brushing off the help of the royal guards and climbing gracefully to his feet, the bead of blood on his cheek sparkling in the majestic royal lighting. Just a few minutes before, the Prince had stood by himself, a dark contrast to the pristine tiered cake and tiny buttercream flowers and gleaming champagne fountain behind him. And Adam, who was rarely angry over anything but could easily go too far when provoked, decided to engage.

“If it isn’t His Royal Highness,” Adam had said, drawing Ronan’s eyes to him. He could see the moment Ronan realized he wasn’t himself, taking in the curled hand and slightly flushed cheeks. Adam was a convincingly sober drunk, and something about Ronan being able to see through it pissed him off. And the fact that Ronan had spent more than half the night hiding away from the cameras and drinking himself didn’t help. Adam would’ve expected to find him dead on his feet and barely standing, but clearly Ronan was less of a lightweight than he was.

Ronan’s lips curled in what might have passed as a smile but looked a little too much like a predator baring its teeth. “Mr. Parrish,” he said, all clipped vowels and stiff politeness that made Adam want to scream. His lips lingered on the ‘h’ shape for a moment too long. “I’m surprised you’re speaking to me.”

Honesty was the last thing Adam had expected. “Why, because you monopolized Blue and treated her like some kind of...toy to ignore?”

His nostrils flared suddenly. “No, I do not... use people. But you have been avoiding me all evening when I’ve done my best to be civil.”

Adam laughed too loudly at that. “Civil? Yeah, okay,” he said, his mouth curved into a smile. “Most civil member of your family, I’m sure. Declan and Ashley would agree.”

Ronan went silent, swirling his champagne around in his hand and raising an uncoordinated hand to run over his shaved head. When he spoke, he grit his jaw as though holding back some impulse like the good repressed English boy he was. “I’d suggest you to go drink some water and find your way out before you do something you regret.”

“Or what?”

Ronan stepped closer to Adam so that they were nearly chest-to-chest, his two-inch height advantage only pissing Adam off more. “I said I’d advise you to stop.”

And Ronan, so subtly that he doubted any camera could pick it up, pushed Adam away with one hand. It would have worked splendidly had Adam not back-tracked and grabbed Ronan’s sleeve, sending them both falling.

And now they were both covered in frosted roses and shame, Adam stuck with Gansey’s voice on the plane saying please table your rivalry for one night reverberating in his head.

What the fresh hell, indeed.

***

Silence hung over the West Wing briefing room like a wet blanket. Maura Sargent stared unblinkingly into Adam’s eyes from where she perched on the edge of the table. Adam, from his seat at the head, stared back with every ounce of courage his mother’s PR campaigns taught him. Maura seemed to be studying him, and Adam simply didn’t know how to look away.

“Blue,” Maura said finally. On Maura’s other side, Blue wordlessly handed over a stack of newspapers, her gaze shifting from Maura to Adam as though watching a ping pong tournament. Adam knew of Maura’s “no restrictions” policy at home with Blue, but everyone knew this policy in no way related to her work life. Still, Blue watched attentively with knitted brows as though trying to guess the outcome or will a better one into existence.

“Gansey?” Maura asked, all without removing her eyes from Adam’s. The touch of anxiety in Blue’s expression didn’t even begin to reach the anxiety in Gansey’s face, as he stared at Adam like he was a lost puppy. Still, Gansey had more poise than most politicians did, and he managed to smoothly relinquish a stack of magazines into Maura’s free hand. Maura combined the stacks into one in her right hand before dropping them into Adam’s lap with a dull thwap.

“These are just the ones being sold outside this morning, not to mention what’s circulating in the British tabloids,” she said, finally turning away and reaching for a mug of coffee. “Read them.” She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like Jesus, but Adam didn’t try to discern it. He went for the stack instead, glossy pages almost slipping through his thin fingers.

    THE $75,000 STUMBLE greeted him on the front page of The Washington Post.

    BATTLE ROYAL: Prince Ronan and FSOTUS Come To Blows at Royal Wedding

    CAKEGATE: Adam Parrish Sparks Second English-American War

Everywhere he flipped, images of he and Ronan covered in sparkling broken glass and frosting assaulted his eyes. The images and headlines blurred together, and he flicked his gaze back up to Maura. All he could see for a moment was Ronan’s rumpled suit and the sliver of red on his cheek. He blinked three times in rapid succession and Maura returned, her brown eyes cool and calculating over the rim of her travel mug.

“Isn’t this a topic for the Situation Room, Ms. Sargent?” He asked. His mother, seated across from him, and Blue both pursed their lips, although for entirely different reasons; Blue appeared to be holding back laughter while his mother must have been holding back something else. Maura narrowed her eyes, oblivious to Gansey’s tightening expression behind her.

“Don’t Ms. Sargent me,” she replied, her tone cool. “I knew all your secrets, kid. I’ve been watching you since you were five. The sass will get you nowhere.” She snatched the Sun article from out of his hands, flipping it open to the correct page and hiding Ronan’s buttercream-smeared frown behind her fingers. “‘Sources inside the royal reception report the two were seen arguing minutes before the cake-tastrophe. But royal family insiders claim the First Son’s feud with Ronan has raged for years. A source tells The Sun that Ronan and the First Son have been at odds ever since their first meeting at the Rio Olympics--’” here Adam made an odd, strangled noise -- “‘and the animosity has only grown—these days, they can’t even be in the same room with each other. It seems it was only a matter of time before Adam took the American approach: a violent altercation.’”

Adam locked eyes with Gansey at the last line, watching Gansey’s lips thin just as he felt the blood drain from his own face. His eyes slid over to Blue, who yielded much of the same reaction. His mother, surprisingly, didn’t change her posture. If she was thinking of Robert Parrish like the rest of them, she had a better poker face.

“They’re blaming this on Ana’s administration,” Maura continued, pushing on through the stony silence. “Please, explain the joke to me.”

“He started it,” is all Adam was able to say, which was probably one of the worst ways to defend himself. Sounding like a petulant toddler helped nobody, but he had made his bed and so he would lie in it, too. “He shoved me and I grabbed his sleeve to-”

“Adam,” his mother said, raising one hand to cut him off with the smooth, brown skin of her palm. He quieted at once, recognizing her demeanor as half-presidential and half motherly. Ana’s voice was caught somewhere between the sugary drawl that lulled him to sleep as a child and the All-American southern twang that helped win her an election. “You know I trust you, sweetheart, but the press sure as hell doesn’t give a fuck about the nitty-gritty of who started what.”

“Ronan definitely touched him first,” Gansey said, his voice unhurried but his face clearly eager to shift some of the blame off of Adam. Maura shot a cool look in his direction.

“He-said, she-said, that doesn’t matter. The press thinks and we can’t change their mind, we can only prove them wrong.” She held out a hand again, and with a sigh Blue acquiesced a new, thick file. Maura dropped it in front of Adam like a hot potato. “Here’s damage control. This rivalry with the prince of England ends now.”

“It’s not a-”

“Rivalry, we know,” his mother interrupted wryly. The tone was odd from her president-mode self, her wayward curls tamed into a perfect ponytail and her face made up instead of the more casual expression she normally had when joking. “But, sugar, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s probably a duck. You can call it whatever you like, but it’s always gonna be seen as a rivalry.”

Adam sat silently, flipping through a section entitled TERMS OF AGREEMENT. Maura continued. “You’re flying to England on Saturday and spending the weekend with Ronan.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but once they did he couldn’t stop thinking of them. Dread settled just below the surface of Adam’s skin. He looked at his mother. “I’d prefer to fake my death, actually. Or just really die. I know Calla would be willing to help with either, and Persephone is good with that stuff, right? Death of a son should boost your polling. The voters love a sympathetic case.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she warned. She looked to her watch with a heavy sigh and leaned over to kiss him on the head. “I’m too overscheduled for this. Adam, listen to Maura and don’t ignore her plan. You two,” she gestured vaguely at Blue and Gansey, “Make sure he doesn’t do anything irrational while we’re wrapped up.”

Blue lazily saluted while Gansey nodded reassuringly. With one last glance at Adam, Ana was gone, her heels clicking away from the heavy doors. She slipped away from being Ana Parrish, Adam’s mother punishing him for stupid behavior, to become President Parrish, leader of the country. Adam envied her compartmentalization.

Maura leaned over the table, flipping pages in the file. “We’re releasing this statement in conjunction with the Crown as soon as they approve. It was an accident, no harm was intended, all that jazz-”

Adam lifted one eyebrow. “So the truth?”

“Call it what you’d like. And we’re clarifying that you and Prince Ronan have been close personal friendships for several years despite conflicts in schedule making it difficult to appear publicly.”

Blue laughed out loud at that, clamping one hand over her mouth. Maura didn’t even look over to her, but Adam’s expression must have been similarly dumbfounded because she sighed resignedly, taking another sip of coffee. “Look, it’s better for all sides if your tussle just looks like some...frat boy joshing.” Blue’s laughs crescendoed louder, and Maura shot her a cool look. “If you need to step out, please feel free to, Blue. I’m sure Gansey will fill you in later.” Adam looked to Blue and her wave of dismissal, gripping onto the wrist of Gansey’s blazer to steady herself. Maura turned back to Adam.

“I know he’s difficult. You can hate him for all I care. In privacy, feel free to construct intricate arguments for his removal from this earth. Fantasize about dumping yogurt on his head. Compose songs to drive him insane. But, for the love of God, you will act like he hung the moon with nothing but yarn and a sewing needle whenever there’s the slimmest possibility of a camera or another living being witnessing it. Kapeesh?”

It wasn’t like he was allowed any true reaction, but he nodded all the same. His powerlessness was because of his own actions, not Maura. It was his own fault, and he would own up to the consequences. Even if the thought of willingly spending time with Ronan made his stomach turn.

“Your job is to not piss anyone off and to gush about Ronan. You’ll memorize this fact sheet-” she slid another page from the file and tapped it, “-and be prepared to answer any question with these as an answer. Your deal includes a minimum of two social media posts a day about Ronan and your visit. On Sunday, you have an on-air interview with ITV This Morning, and you’ll be fresh as a daisy with nothing but sunshine to say about Ronan’s competitive yachting hobby. There are only two photo ops, one in private where you can bitch and one charity appearance. That’s it, you’re free.”

Adam opened his mouth.

“Don’t care,” Maura said before Adam could make a noise. “You ruined the Royal Wedding and a cake that’s worth a year of college tuition. He’ll attend a state dinner in a few months for his part, and you will pay your penance now.”

Adam nodded slowly. He gathered the file in his hands along with all the decorum Gansey taught him over the years. He smiled a small smile at Maura. “Well, it will be an experience, won’t it?”

“I’d expect it, yes.”

“Thank you, Maura. And I’m sorry.”

She waved her hand. “Don’t apologize. Your apology will be not screwing this up even more.”

“I’ll try.”

Adam rose, Blue and Gansey following his lead. As he turned to walk away, Maura spoke again. “Oh, and Adam?”

“Yes?”

The corners of her eyes crinkled, and she looked younger, somehow. Almost amused. Guilt panged in his chest at the thought that he’d caused the tiredness on her face before. “Try to have a little fun. It’s a trip to Europe and you’re not even missing class.”

He paused, thinking of Ronan and his shaved head and cruel smile in front of the wedding cake. He tried to imagine what fun might be for him - whether to trust the fact sheet proclaiming fencing and yachting as Ronan’s pastimes or the tabloids that traded stories of illegal drag racing and getting black-out drunk. He wasn’t sure which version of Ronan sounded worse. “Sure,” he agreed quietly. “I will.”

***

Those who work in the White House know a few things about the First Family’s habits, but they never know the full truth.

They can observe things the average citizen would die to know; they see staffers pacing the halls and tearing their hair out over Instagram captions, overhear expletive-laden and fond familial conversations, and occasionally see the pristine members of the executive branch with dark crescents burning under their eyes and old high-school sweatshirts adorned like the newest fashion. But none were more elusive and two-sided than the White House Trio.

In their case, two-sided didn’t necessarily mean something bad, only something drastic. Blue Sargent, Richard Gansey, and Adam Parrish presented the perfect dynamic for the press to eat up: three attractive early twenty-somethings inside the White House who were notoriously open to the public about their lives. There were veneers crafted and stories concocted every day, all designed to get the perfect media response without sharing too much. There was Blue, the Indigenous American daughter of a single mother and prominent staffer, barely five feet tall but laser-sharp with any numbers you threw at her; there was Richard Campbell Gansey III, better known as the single-named Gansey who came from the billions that funded the Vice-Presidency but wanted nothing more than to give it all away, always ready with his winning charm and a new polo shirt to distract the press from his scathing op-eds; and there was Adam Parrish, a true American Dream born from a father from the Heartland and a mother from Mexican immigrants, a single First Son set to graduate valedictorian from Georgetown amid a political campaign with an ease most of the country only wished to possess.

Together, they hit every demographic that they could without even trying too hard. Their progressive politics were helped along by their identities, and so they aided their parents by nature of existing within the White House walls. White House staff saw these versions of them, but only glimpses of what lay beneath - Blue wandering the halls in self-created shirts and dresses with stacks of newspapers clutched in her arms, the scent of mint clinging to Gansey everywhere he went at all hours of the day, Adam’s frequent requests for coffee at midnight and propensity to wear coca-cola tee shirts.

They all knew very well that no one really saw the full picture of them, but that was how the White House Trio liked it.

The three of them spread out in the music room, one of their only haunts where they could be truly alone. For once, they weren’t a marketing ploy of their own creation or a group of kids on a pedestal; they were just Blue, Gansey, and Adam. After that meeting, they had to be.

Adam sprawled on the couch, laying exactly horizontal, flipping over the HRH fact sheet.

“You’re on the cover of Us Weekly, Blue,” Gansey called across the room, undoubtedly fulfilling his guilty-pleasure hobby of obsessively tracking their tabloids. “Full portrait of your Royal Wedding outfit.”

“It’s about time,” she responded from her perch on the windowsill, a bottle of red wine and a bottle opener in her hands. “I wore that lace to catch attention, thank you very much. It’s been at least four months since a solo cover.”

“Well, they do mention the cake-tastrophe in the corner.”

Blue waved her hand dismissively. “That was bound to happen. Scandal sells, but so do I.”

“Okay, ew,” Adam said flatly.

“They’re speculating about you two again, you know.” Gansey scrolled to a new part of the magazine, lifting a thumb to rub against his lower lip. “‘Tryst with a mystery brunette: Heartthrob First Son Adam Parrish caught sneaking back to the W hotel for an amorous rendezvous in the Presidential Suite. Sources say the brunette is none other than Blue Sargent, the twenty-two-year-old member of the White House Trio.’”

“Less than a month!” Blue exclaimed, popping the wine open. “You owe me, Gansey. Pay up.”

He ignored her, dropping the hand from his face. “You didn’t really…”

Neither Adam nor Blue responded. Gansey knew very well that their short-lived relationship on the campaign trail was due to die a quick death, but something - perhaps the lingering stares he seemed to throw Blue more and more often - was making him touchier to the subject of their former relationship. Of course, Adam and Blue did nothing of the sort, only watched the West Wing and made sex noises at young Rob Lowe with a bottle of champagne passed between them. Confusing the tabloids was an added bonus to their game. Blue took a swig directly from the bottle of red.

“You’d think they’d be talking more about your spat with Ronan than your possible sex life,” Gansey said, returning his focus to Adam. Adam finally looked away from the HRH fact sheet and towards Gansey’s squinting eyes. He really needed to put his glasses on, but far be it from Adam to mother Gansey. It had to be the other way around.

“No one cares about what happens over the pond.”

“Don’t they?” Blue said, scrunching her nose in a similar fashion to Gansey. “They seem to follow the royals pretty well. Tabloids were in a tizzy over the Prince’s lack of date.”

“In a tizzy,” Adam mocked. From where she sat on the floor, Blue stretched her short frame as far as possible to nudge Adam’s leg with the toe of her socked foot. “Why does anyone care? It’s not like he’s, you know, interesting.”

Blue and Gansey were staring again, he could tell. “Adam, honey,” Blue started, her southern accent heavy and thick. Gansey reached for the bottle and she relinquished it easily. “I know you hate him, but he’s probably the most interesting royal out there.”

“Wasn’t he caught in a club with his underage brother right after their father died?” Gansey asked, taking a prim sip from the bottle of wine.

“Apparently has a huge sucker of a tattoo on his back, too.”

“Isn’t that against royal etiquette or some shit?”

“Probably.”

Adam waved the fact sheet around, spinning himself so that his head hung off the edge of the couch. “Explain this, then. He’s more wonder-bread than Gansey, and that’s saying something.” Blue spluttered out a laugh, and Adam slung an upside-down apologetic glance at Gansey. “Sorry, man. No offense.”

“None taken,” Gansey said, reaching for the fact sheet and plucking it from Adam’s grasp. “What’s wrong with these? Charles Dickens as a favorite author? What do you have against Charles Dickens?”

Adam and Blue exchanged a glance. “Nothing in theory. It’s just a bunch of garbage I don’t need in my brain.”

Blue snorted. “No thoughts, brain full of GDP calculations.”

“You know I just finished my macroeconomics midterm.”

“That’s the point,” Blue said, snatching the bottle back from Gansey and peeking at the sheet. Her nose scrunched again, squinting her eyes as she always did when drinking. “Mutton pie? Who loves mutton pie?”

“It’s a very versatile meal,” Gansey defended.

“I mean, sure, these are boring as hell,” Blue conceded, ignoring Gansey’s scandalized look. “But this is clearly slapped together by his PR team to make him look like the perfect prince.”

“So?” Adam said, unimpressed.

“It’s not a reason to hate him.”

“Oh, I know. I hate him anyway. But I have better use for my brain space than facts about His Royal Dick.”

“That just sounds like you’re talking about Gansey.”

“To be fair, Adam,” Gansey said, “it’s your fault. You fought him.”

“What happened anyway?” Blue asked. He knew the question was coming, but all the same, he didn’t want to answer. “He was fine when I danced with him.”

“Fine,” Adam said curtly. “Cold and severe sounds more like it.”

Blue’s eyes scanned over him with an uncanny feeling she could see into his thoughts. “So you were...defending me? God, please don’t blame me for this.”

“That’s actually kind of nice, Parrish.”

“No,” Blue interrupted, a hard edge to her voice.. “Not if he does stupid shit because of it. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

“I know!” Adam rushed to say. “Believe me, I know. It was…” he withered under her look. “...An excuse?”

“Look at me,” Blue said, voice firm. He did. Her lips were thinned with seriousness. “Don’t protect my honor again, please. It’s a weird-ass fishbowl world we live in, but if you do, I will leak to the press that your favorite song is Africa by Toto.”

“Please do,” Adam said, scoffing. “It’s a bop.”

“And do you want it dogging your every step?”

“Maybe I do.”

Blue shrugged. “Your funeral.”

“This is quite Shakespearean,” Gansey said, most likely in hopes of interrupting their budding argument. He gestured grandly to the gaudy tapestry-ridden walls and golden tassels on the furniture, although Adam imagined that Gansey thought it would look more impressive in his head. “Two sworn enemies forced into friendship for the sake of tension between their countries.”

“We’re not enemies,” Adam said. “That implies we’re...on the same level. Have actually spoken.”

“Exactly. Shakespearean.”

“Then let’s hope I get stabbed at the end of this. Blue, will you do the honors? I know you’ll do it mercifully.”

“Oh, cheer up now,” Blue said in a false British coo. “You’ll be the darling of England before Sunday even rolls around.”

“What does it matter?” Adam said, not lifting his gaze from the fact sheet. “They just think I’m another violent American over there.”

He could feel the weight of Blue and Gansey’s stares above his head. No one needed to say the words themselves to invoke the double-wide of Adam’s earliest years, where blood covered most of the carpet. “They don’t mean it like that, Adam,” Gansey said finally, breaking some of the tension with his reverberating voice. “They mean it like… UFC fighters, or rioting after the Patriots lose the Super bowl. Or win.” Gansey’s frown deepened. “I can never figure out how they’re doing.”

“Yeah, I know,” Adam said, lips twisted downwards. He regretted bringing it up. “I know.”

Blue nudged him again with her foot. “Want to watch Parks and Rec and make fun of the Prince’s fact cheat-sheet?”

“God, yes.”

She snatched the sheet from Gansey, reading it over again. “Drinking game: drink whenever Prince Ronan’s interests are laughably terrible.”

“Counter-offer: drink whenever Adam overreacts to his interests.” Gansey offered. Blue passed him the bottle to reach for her laptop instead.

“Either way, we’re getting alcohol poisoning.”

“Oh, definitely.”

“We’ll quiz you,” Gansey offered Adam, just as Blue pulled up an episode of Parks and Rec. “Not season seven, Sargent, what the hell are you thinking?”

“Season seven can be great!” Off of Gansey’s glare, Blue complied, clearly not wanting the fight. “Fine. Season three?”

“Now you’re talking.”

Blue balanced her laptop on an old piano bench and joined their huddle near the couch, beckoning the bottle back.

“Alright,” Gansey began, eyes settled on the top of the sheet. “You better be ready to learn something, Parrish.”

***

None of them succumbed to alcohol poisoning, but they did learn several facts about Prince Ronan.

There was the basic information, things Adam knew already: his mother, Queen Aurora, took the throne with a dreamy demeanor and high hopes at the age of 19 after her parent’s untimely death and her twin sister’s abdication. The year before, she married Niall Lynch, an Irish actor, and practically upset the whole place. Niall died in 2015, not too long before the Rio Olympics, and Aurora’s public appearances had dwindled ever since, leaving the press to have a field day with rumors of illness and mental breakdowns. Ronan had a raven (why, Adam could not fathom) named, of all things, Chainsaw. His best friend, Henry Cheng, was heir to Cheng Industries and managed their charity branch.

Gansey actually knew both Cheng and Ronan, having spent a year at Eton in high school, and Adam just rolled his eyes at Ganey’s relentless knowledge of every human person.

His music tastes were listed as baroque, death metal, and Irish jigs, a combination that left Blue wheezing. “His Royal Highness may be my new favorite person,” she insisted, leaving Adam scowling.

The week came and went, and Adam found himself on a private tarmac following a trans-Atlantic flight with a man in an impeccably pressed suit and a cup of tea nestled into his hands. Calla, one of Blue’s pseudo-aunts and a secret service agent accompanying him, pressed forward to shake his hand and exchange a few words under her breath with him. He almost pitied the man. Calla, with her high bun of perfectly-contained curls and steely gaze, oozed intimidation out of her very being. But to his surprise, Calla actually smiled at the mystery man. She wasn’t quite warm, but he received considerably kinder treatment than everyone else subject to Calla’s jurisdiction. When she stepped back, the man turned his gray eyes on Adam. He smiled without any mirth.

“Mr. Parrish,” the man said, reaching out his free hand. Adam shook it, trying to keep it short and firm as his mother taught him. “It’s a pleasure to have you with us in England. I’m Mr. Gray, Prince Ronan’s equerry.”

“It’s very nice to meet you. I apologize for the turn of events that led to this weekend.”

“Well,” Mr. Gray said, turning and beckoning Adam to an Aston Martin with blacked-out windows, “once you reach my age, Mr. Parrish, you’ll find that these matters are quite simple to see coming.” Adam barely had a chance to blink in response before he was sliding into the back seat of the car, the rumbling of the tarmac shut out succinctly with the door’s closure. A lull in conversation settled around them; Adam, after clicking his seatbelt in, favored looking out the window to London’s scenery over making conversation. The blur of grey and white passed for a few minutes before Mr. Gray finally informed him of his role.

“There are a few matters of paperwork to go over before entering Kensington Palace. They’re currently next to you, and signing them is of highest priority before we begin this weekend.” Adam was no stranger to non-disclosure agreements and confidentiality paperwork; he’d expected the practically novel-length stack. By the time he’d finished signing on all the correct lines, the car slowed to a crawl. “Prince Ronan has just finished his tennis practice, and we’re here to escort him to our first activity.”

“Splendid,” Adam whispered under his breath, unconsciously mimicking Mr. Gray's crisp voice.

The English countryside hit Adam full in the face as soon as he stepped from the car; fresh air, the kind you never find in DC, welcomed him like an old friend, and though the English air was nothing like the air he remembered growing up with in Virginia, it felt nostalgic all the same. He suddenly wanted to be back there, in the home he remembered so well. He wanted to be anywhere but England with the goddamn Prince of Wales loping his way towards him in an all-white outfit, a racket swinging in his hand.

Jesus, how pretentious could he be?

Annoyingly, Ronan was not sweating and not fatigued looking in the slightest. He actually looked incredibly refreshed, the harsh lines of his face softened and a flush under his cheeks, his blue eyes charged and alight. Looking into them, Adam felt startlingly as though he was staring out at the horizon on a cloudless day.

“Parrish,” Ronan called, jogging the remaining distance quickly and closing the gap between them. “You've found the directions, I can see.”

“It’s difficult to miss,” Adam replied tightly, holding out a hand for Ronan to shake. “Extensive wealth tends to smell for miles around.”

Ronan took his hand, and his smoothed palm slid uncomfortably against Adam’s calloused hand. An unpleasant jolt started in his stomach. Ronan affixed his same unkind but not terrifying smile to his face, looking ridiculously like Declan for a moment, before continuing their conversation. Both knew to disconnect their words from their faces, conscious of the photographer unsubtly circling them. “It’s a rather pleasant odor, yes? I prefer it to fried food and pollution.”

“London, known for its fresh air, right?” Adam laughed, the charming laugh that beguiled TV hosts and entranced his mother’s constituents. “Excited for the days ahead?”

“I’d rather lie on the NASCAR racetrack, or even concede an argument.”

Adam slipped his palm from Ronan’s, choosing instead to slap him jovially on the arm. “I never thought I’d see the day where we agree on something, Your Highness.”

“Fuck off,” Ronan said, the words slipping through his unkind but certainly camera-friendly smile with practiced ease, and oh, there was the difference between this weekend and all their other interactions: Adam couldn’t speak of their interactions at all, locked behind an NDA. Ronan could swear as much as he pleased and not face retribution from his family.

“Gladly,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“The car is ready if you’re ready, then,” Mr. Gray said from behind Adam.

“Perfect,” Ronan said, any hint of his bleached teeth disappearing. “The sooner this is over with, the better.”

And they set off, side by side, for the car.

[helltalia-inc]

RULES + LIST OF CHALLENGES

RULES 

1. Pick a challenge from the List of Challenges;

2. Create whatever you want, as you want;

3. Use the tag #helltalia-inc and @ with the name of the page;

4. And don’t forget to have fun!

Not that hard, right?

 More info:

· There are no language barriers here, so feel free to use the language that you feel the most comfortable to express yourself;

· Bad behavior will not be tolerated;

· Feel free to use any characters and any ships;

· Take attention to tag your ships, any warming or triggering content;

· And for the last, but not least… support the “CONTENT CREATORS”!

 LIST OF CHALLENGES

(This list will be updated occasionally. Feel free to search for the number of the challenges, for example like #1, or #20, I made sure to tag every work with the number of the challenge. So, if you want to see the works related to each challenge, you just have to search in the page by the number. And, of course, feel free to use the challenges to inspire your future works.)

 1. Favorite Character

2. Egg Themed

3. Books + Favorite Trio

4. Your living country + his national flower

5. Crossing the line with the Star Wars Universe

6. Pajama Party + Female Characters Only

7. Revenge the Hetavision

8. Wedding dress

9. Child’s Day

10. Recycle, Reduce, Reutilize

11. Nordics appreciation challenge

12. LGBT Respect Day

13. “If you meant it, kiss me”

(Just to record it: starting from here, it was added as option, the “challenge quote”) 

14. National Animal + The Country where you live / “No matter where I go, my heart will always be yours”

15. Healthy Food Habits/ “But loving you had consequences”

16. World Day of Friendship/ “It’s okay if you don’t like me. Not everyone had good taste.”

17. REVENGE FIFATALIA/ “I’m so sick of lying. I have to tell you…”

18. ROCK IN HETALIA / “the music is the language of feelings”

19. Stuck on a desert island/ “I’m so sorry I kissed you, my mouth just slipped”  

20. ICE CREAM AND WATERMELON/ ”I wouldn’t do that if I were you”  

21. Pirate and Mermaids AU/ “That’s the summer when we first met”  

22. Aquarium park / “It is easier to pretend we are strong; it is much harder to admit we are weak; a true friend, by loving every part of us, teaches us to love our weaknesses”

23. Crossover with one of your favorite movies / “The two of us, we’re the best kind of disaster. Apples and oranges. Well, more like apples and machetes.”

24. Alice in the Wonderland AU / “I really did think you were cute when you were jealous.”

25. Improvised Olympic Games out of Season/ “I’d find you whenever you were.”

26. Ancients Countries Appreciation Challenge / “Chaos isn’t meant to be understood”

27. University AU / “Never say “Goodbye””

28. Color’ (or body or personality) swap / “Puns are the highest form of literature.”

29. Crossover with Sesame Street or The Muppets / “I’ve missed you. But it seems like you’re not happy to see me.”

30. Alter Ego AU / “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have even come here tonight.”

31. Your favorite writer + his respective nation / “I wanted to end the world, but I’ll settle for ending yours.”

32. Candle in the dark / “I’m pregnant”

33. Orchestra AU / “You can run, but you can’t escape”

34. Trapped in a maze / “Can you keep a secret?”

35. Wingtalia / “Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off”

36. Space, stars, moon / “You’re better than you think.”

37. Villain AU / “I don’t want to sleep alone today. Will you sleep with me?”

38. African nations / “You promised that we would always be together… now, how I’m supposed to live without you?”

39. Love potion / "We didn't realize we were making memories, we just knew we were having fun"

40. Treasure hunt / “The only thing you’re good at is fake crying”

41. Asian nations / “You can see me?”

42. National desert / “Nice try. Better luck next time”

43. Death note AU / “How long will you keep me waiting?”

44. Kabedon / “What is your problem?”  

45. Siblings / “Don’t just say nice things, give me advice.”

46. The 7 deadly sins / “Take that stupid grin off your face”

47. Reincarnation AU / “We have only one chance at life. And I want to live a life with no regrets.”

48. Autumn / “You said I could do whatever I wanted.”

49. Red apple / “I want to crush anyone who dares to touch you. I want to hide you, monopolize you.”

50. Hot chocolate / “It’s too late now.”

51. Tarot Cards / “Take your hands off of me.”

52. Summon Demons /”Have I done something wrong?”

53. Ouija / “That’s the one thing I regret the most in my life.”

54. Underworld / “If you want, we could swap secrets.”

55. Supernatural creatures / “Close your eyes and listen carefully.”

56. Hunter / “Even though it isn’t a big deal now, it will be later.”

57. Shadow / “You helped me become who I am.”

58. Bloody sunset / “If you took well care of it from the beginning, then none of this would’ve happened.”

59. Ghost mansion / ”What the hell do you want from me?”

60. Mysterious box / “It’s not extreme, it’s the most effective way.”

61. Scream / “What makes you think I’ve changed?”

62. Evil laugh / “I thought I knew you better than this...”

63. Superstition / “There are times when it’s dangerous to approach something or someone when you don’t have sufficient knowledge about them.”

64. Roses / ”My understanding is that faith is something that one builds up through actions.”

65. Destiny / “I don’t want to live like that.”

66. Coincidence / “Growth always follows hardship.”

67. Broken heart / “They want me to find happiness more than anyone else.”

68. The wedding day / “You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

69. Slow dance / “It’s better to spend the rest of my lifetime alone, than being stupid and crying over someone who broke my trust.”

70. By my side / “Time flew by.”

71. Holding hands / “I gave you a chance to pretend that nothing happened.”

72. Friendzone / “I won’t run away this time.”

72. Rejection / “Sorry, I let my emotions get the best of me.”

73. Forever alone / “If they’re your friends, they’ll understand and be happy for you. Just like how you were for them.”

74. BDSM / “Whatever you choose, I’ll respect your decision.”

75. Dirty talking / “You’re just taking advantage of the people around you.”

76. Love letter / “Money and Status... you’re nothing without those things.”

77. First love / “Seeing you happy means the world to me.”

78. First time / “Friendship isn’t about whom you have known the longest, it’s about who came and never left.”

79. Crush / “I’m in a threesome with anxiety and depression.”

80. Decorations / “Just fantasizing about it isn’t enough for me.”

81. Presents / “You just have to work hard to turn it into a reality.”

82. Traditions / “Anger cannot be dishonest.”

83. Family Dinner / “Relationships are like glass, sometimes it’s better to leave them broken than trying to hurt yourself putting it back together.”

84. Friends / “I’m glad I at least left an impression on you. Though apparently, it’s a negative one.”

85. Figure skating / “The mirror is my best friend because when I cry it doesn’t laugh.”

86. Snowboard / “The saddest people have the brightest smile.”

87. Ski / “I don’t think we wasted a single second.”

88. Hockey / “I wish I knew I was in the good old days before they became the good old days.”

89. Snow globe / “Those who are already dead don’t care about those who are still alive.”

90. Acts of kindness / “People only listen and believe in what they think is entertaining.”

91. Aurora Borealis / “If this is for the best.”

92. Church bell / “The more envy you show, the worse you look.”

93. The little match girl / “Whatever you do, I’ll never be disappointed in you.”

94. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star / “When people brag so openly about their past, if often means, that they have nothing to brag about now.”

95. Heart made of ice / “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

96. Message on a bottle / “I never truly fell in love with anyone.”

97. Bubbles / “This is all very suspicious... extremely suspicious.”

98. End of the world / “I was afraid kindness would make me weak.”

99. Halloween dolls / “No hard feelings but I hate you.”

100. Redemption / “I should apologize for this. But I won’t.”

101. Femme fatale / “Do you think you can handle it?”

102. (more challenges will be added eventually. If you want, send your challenge’ suggestions to the Ask Box)

 Note: Most of the quotes aren’t mine and have no source.

[educatedinyellow]

(More figure skating, it’s that time of year)

Pssst, guys. Did you see the gold medal pairs free skate at the Olympics a few weeks ago? It was SPECTACULAR.

Here’s a link to the official U.S. network video of the routine (I’m not sure if it will be viewable to those outside the USA): Aliona Savchenko and Bruno Massot win gold for Germany IN JAW-DROPPING STYLE

DEJECTED INSTANT EDIT: Apparently NBC took down this footage as of last night, because they are genuinely awful at allowing human beings to watch the footage they monopolize. Sigh. I hate how hard it is to catch up on the Olympics if you can’t watch it live. As a second choice, here’s a vid of them performing the same routine at a pre-Olympic competition. It’s less emotional, but you can still see the amazing skill.

Aliona Savchenko and Bruno Massot preview their Olympic routine at the Grand Prix

I was talking to my mom recently about gymnastics and figure skating, and I told her that I think the pleasure I take in watching these routines is quite similar to the pleasure I take in a Buster Keaton short film. To me the experience is less like watching a sport and more like watching the top tier of elegant, evocative stunt work.

[smarterhomesworld]

Choosing the Best Austin Service Provider for You

The Truth about Austin Internet and TV Service Providers

Dealing with Austin Service Providers for internet, phone, and television can be a real pain. It’s hard to know what company will serve your needs best while providing a fair cost. This article is intended to distill all of the moving parts associated with TV and network service providers and give you a straightforward guide of who does what best.

The three basic elements of network service are internet, phone, and television. Each service provider has strengths and weaknesses in each category. We’ll break it down by provider later.

Depending on where you live, you may not have many options in choosing your provider. Before you get too deep into your research, check what’s available in your area.  

Which Provider Won’t Raise my Rate?

None. Whether it’s Spectrum, AT&T, Google Fiber, or Grande, every company operates on 12-month introductory rates that increase after your first year. That rate increase is unavoidable. 

Rather than trying to juggle providers year in and year out to avoid rate increases, we suggest you pinpoint which provider will fit your needs service-by-service and accept the inevitable truth that your rate will increase after year one, no matter what. 

Own Your own Equipment - Modems and Routers

The default of any service provider is to lease you low-quality equipment (a router and modem) and include a leasing fee in your monthly bill (sometimes hidden and fixed). However, there are Many Benefits to Not Leasing Your Equipment. If the modem is yours, you can get a standard modem that's not one of these clunky all-in-ones. The modems themselves just take that incoming IP address and pass it along to a router that you also own, managing the network within your house yourself. 

Your router's going be what determines the number of devices that can connect and how far WiFi travels. Purchasing your own, quality router ensures wifi will go further than with the very low-quality router-modem combo that would be provided. 

We’ll be frank - managed networks, or those where you provide your own equipment, are not a cheap solution. They are, however, more reliable, they save you money on leasing fees in the long run, and keep your devices more secure. They also allow you the capability to extend your WiFi throughout your estate. You pay more upfront because you’ll need an integrator or IT guy to install the equipment. They will then act as your technology monitor, detecting, troubleshooting and solving problems with your network as they arrive.

We always recommend a Ubiquiti managed network. We find the equipment extremely reliable and it works especially well with Grande, Spectrum and Google Fiber.

How Much Data (MBPS)  Does my House Need?

Many people wonder if raising their package to 1,000 mbps is the way to improve their connection speeds. The truth is, it’s usually overkill and unnecessary. Your data is pretty dependent on your infrastructure and whether or not your network is managed. With a strong system set up, that has a high-quality router, allowing numerous device connections and WiFi reaching your whole home, you won’t really notice the difference between say 400Mbps and 1000Mbps.

To find a realistic number for your family, start by making a list of activities by person in the home. What does your family use your data for? How many gamers live in the house? What gaming platforms are they using? Is it a lower bandwidth data platform like a Nintendo Switch, or is it a high demand gaming system like Xbox or PlayStation 4. Once you have all the numbers in order, use that information in a minimum recommendation quiz to calculate. Just keep in mind that anything over a 100 megabits per second speed is an almost unnoticeable difference. 

We found this article pretty helpful when it comes to breaking down the actual language of internet speeds and measurements. 

TV and Internet Provider Break Downs

(Click on Provider for Details and Breakdown)

AT&T - Neighborhood Exclusivity, Data Throttling, and Good TV

Most exclusive

$50/month for the first 12 months

100 Mbps over copper, goes upto 1,000 Mbps over fiber

AT&T is notorious for a few sneaky, behind the scenes activities. The first of which we want to cover is neighborhood exclusivity. They are one of the only companies out there known for buying their way into neighborhoods as they are being developed. What that means is that AT&T will often make a deal with the developer to handle all of the network infrastructure: the conduit, the underground work, all the digging and trenching and backend. Then, the neighborhood gets services setup for free and sometimes AT&T actually pays the developer for letting them essentially monopolize that area for a specific period of time. So, as a resident, if you're finding that AT&T is your only option and you’re feeling trapped in your plan with them, this is why.

They also participate in data throttling. Basically, if there's an area where there are more people streaming during certain periods of the day, like at night when everybody's off work and watching Netflix, they are going to then lower the bandwidth allocations for that neighborhood so that they're not wasting data. If they're seeing that neighborhood-wide the amount of data being used is over what they've allocated for their data budget within that neighborhood, then they're going to throttle the network to the total amount of data going to that neighborhood. That’s why some people within that area are going to experience problems.

They are also known for individual network problems. Depending on where your home is within their network of data is going to depend on whether you’re at what we call the “end of the line”. In short, AT&T prioritizes based on geography. If you're closer to the end of the line, you're kind of getting whatever data is left and if there are a lot of homes that are before you in line of the fiber, they're getting all of the data and the bulk of the quality, first.

When it comes to equipment, you’ll have to use their clunky, all-in-one modem/router. When you lift it up and it almost feels like it weighs nothing because it's filled with black magic and air. This equipment is made with very old technology, known for having issues randomly week to week, with no rhyme or reason whatsoever, especially during major events like the Super Bowl, World Series, Olympics, and New Year's Eve.

In terms of TV and cable, AT&T gets a “decent” score from us. They are essentially the middle of the road quality-wise. While you may experience shotty connections at times, they do have cloud recording. That means if you set up all of your recordings and your cable box dies, they’ll send you a new cable box and when you plug it in, it will download all of your recordings and scheduled recordings right away. They also have an app: AT&T Direct TV. However, the app has no recording, so it's just for live TV only and the price is not included in your plan.

What most people don’t realize is that companies like Spectrum hire third-party subcontractors to install their equipment and get it configured with Spectrum’s service infrastructure. These subcontractors are often paid a flat fee which means there is no motivation to spend extra time on service configuration, home assessment, or quality control. In the end, you’re left with stock equipment that you're essentially leasing from the provider, often installed as quickly and easily as possible, and it only goes so far.

Spectrum - Flexible Equipment, No Data Throttling, Horrible TV

Most popular

$44.99/month for the first 12 months

100 Mbps, goes up to 940 Mbps over copper

Spectrum, unlike AT&T, does not throttle their data. They offer different packages at different speeds and capabilities. That means that if you’re having an issue with your connection, the outage is likely occurring in the whole neighborhood. This has some benefits. It proves that they are not prioritizing some customers over others and it increases the likelihood of it being corrected in a timely manner.

Spectrum is also a lot more flexible when it comes to buying your own equipment. You can purchase a Spectrum approved modem as long as its speeds are of the 400 megabits per second package or less. This allows you the freedom to build a managed network that can be more closely monitored, secured and increases reliability. You will also avoid leasing costs.

Where Spectrum prevails in the world of WiFi, it tanks in the world of TV. Spectrum is by far the worst television service out there. They use hard drives for recording storage as opposed to the cloud. As a result, if you record something in one room on their Spectrum cable box, it's only viewable from that location. For that reason, not a lot of people like Spectrum as far as their recording services go because they are not cloud-based. If your cable box ever dies, so you're going to have to reset up all those recordings again.

Spectrum also just released a brand new app. It brags features such as "full TV lineup in-home and up to 40,000 On Demand TV shows and movies in your home, on your mobile and connected devices, including phone, tablet and Roku, Xbox One and Samsung Smart TV." You can also access movie channels and cloud recording without using a cable box.

Google Fiber - Game-Changing Speeds, Great Connections, Great Hardware

Most Reliable

$50/month for the first 12 months

100 to 1000Mbps

Google Fiber entered Austin to affect the market’s speed allocations and pricing structures. Because we are a hub for technology and innovation, Google wanted to restructure market standards and capabilities. Before Fiber came to town, the speeds were much lower downtown and in the overall, greater Austin area but their services forced all of the other providers to move the speeds up and prices down. Previously, the average speed package was between 10 and 20 megabits per second. Now base packages are available at 100mbps. Google Fiber is not limited at 940mbps like most companies. It’s scalable up to 1,000mbps.

Another way that Google Fiber is extremely innovative is in its data sharing. This game-changer is slightly less appealing to their customer base. Google gives providers a lot more feedback on the bandwidth, how individual users inside the home are using that bandwidth, what websites they're searching, what channels they're watching, etc. This data is super valuable to the providers to be able and creates an additional revenue on top of what their making from monthly bills. The trade-off is that they do not throttle their data at all. There is so much data that they will let you have as much as you want in a neighborhood, meaning incredible reliability.

They do recommend that you lease their modem unless you have an expanded WiFi, whole-home system by Ubiquiti, in which case they have partnered with Ubiquiti to turn your security gateway into your modem. That makes Google Fiber our ideal choice for a managed network.

It's important to realize that the core brand and offerings of Google fiber are the internet. There is no possibility to get just a TV service through Google fiber. You're always starting with internet and adding on digital cable from there if you decide to go that route.

Their TV services provide the same great features as AT&T by way of cloud recording. They have great hardware and if the hardware breaks, it re-downloads TV content upon installation. They also have an app that, unlike AT&T, is included.

Most of our clients who have Google Fiber focus on having it for internet only and then they go to a television provider like Direct TV. Even though ST&T owns Direct TV, it's a very different product. Direct TV is targeted toward sports fanatic types with multiple sports packages. This allows you to really fine-tune your package to serve your likes.

Grande Communications - Boutique Offerings, Mesh Compatibility, App Linking Smart TV

Most Limited

$35.99/month for the first 12 months

300-600Mbps

Grande Communications is a bit of a niche provider, mainly centralized in the downtown area of Austin. They offer ultra-high speeds and what we refer to as boutique offerings such as additional hardware for whole-home WiFi via Eero mesh network equipment and high-quality DVR for TV shows that can be added using TiVo. In summary, they have the most features but serve the least neighborhoods.

They are an extremely reliable company. They rarely have connection issues or neighborhood-wide problems.

When it comes to equipment, some of their modems are on the street level, meaning that the modem is serving multiple homes. We call this a smart mode. They also have other modems that are located inside the house but because of this, it is not very common for you to find a third party modem that will work with Grande. Due to their reliability, the equipment becomes less of an issue but it does limit your ability to create a managed network. However, their partnership Eero mesh means you can repeat the signal throughout the home using mesh network products.

A lot of people will go with their bundle TV and internet package, mainly because it's not just the cable box. It does DVR and allows you to link apps, which is really great. That means if the content you are seeking is not available on Grande's service provider channels, it will show you the apps that it is available on (ie Netflix, Hulu, or Amazon) and you can stream it from those additional apps through your cable box onto the TV. TiVo has made it very simple for people to find the content that they like cross-platform over multiple apps. The only other place that we've seen something like is on a Roku.

[hollywoodjuliorivas]

NONFICTION

‘She Said’ Recounts How Two Times Reporters Broke the Harvey Weinstein Story

ImageJodi Kantor and Megan Twohey

Jodi Kantor and Megan TwoheyCreditCreditMartin Schoeller

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By Susan Faludi

Sept. 8, 2019

SHE SAID

Breaking the Sexual Harassment Story That Helped Ignite a Movement

By Jodi Kantor and Megan Twohey

Tell the truth: Do you really need to hear more about Harvey Weinstein? The open bathrobe, the hotel hot tubs, the syringes of erectile-dysfunction drugs delivered by cowed assistants, the transparent requests for “a massage,” the ejaculatory exhibitions — it’s not just indictable, it’s … ick, simultaneously pathological and pathetic.

Which explains the reluctance I felt sitting down to read “She Said: Breaking the Sexual Harassment Story That Helped Ignite a Movement,” wherein the New York Times reporters Jodi Kantor and Megan Twohey revisit at book length their investigative reporting on Weinstein, promising a “substantial amount” of new information. New information? More than 80 women have come forward to recount their encounters with the Oscar-award-monopolizer-and-patron-of-progressive-causes-turned-Tinseltown’s-über-ogre, the beast whose fleshy unshaven headshot every famous Hollywood beauty knows to hate, and whose trial has now been rescheduled for January to allow for additional testimony against him. What new gruesome details do we need?

But “She Said” isn’t retailing extra helpings of warmed-over salacity. The authors’ new information is less about the man and more about his surround-sound “complicity machine” of board members and lawyers, human resource officers and P.R. flaks, tabloid publishers and entertainment reporters who kept him rampaging with impunity years after his behavior had become an open secret. Kantor and Twohey instinctively understand the dangers of the Harvey-as-Monster story line — and the importance of refocusing our attention on structures of power. When they at last confront Weinstein, in a Times conference room and later on speakerphone, he’s the mouse that roared, the Great and Powerful Oz turned puny humbug, swerving from incoherent rants to self-pitying whimpers (“I’m already dead”) to sycophantic claims of just being one of them. (“If I wasn’t making movies, I would’ve been a journalist.”) He’s loathsome and self-serving, but his psychology is not the story they want to tell. The drama they chronicle instead is more complex and subtle, a narrative in which they are ultimately not mere observers but, essential to its moral message, protagonists themselves.

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[ This book was one of our most anticipated titles of September. See the full list. ]

Kantor and Twohey broke the Weinstein story. Their 3,300-word Times article on Oct. 5, 2017, aired allegations against him that had been piling up as whispers and rumors for 30 years. That report, and the ones to follow, were grounded in scores of interviews with actresses and current and former employees, supplemented by legal filings, corporate records and internal company communications that documented a thick web of cover-ups, bullying tactics and confidential settlements. It was bravura journalism.

“We watched with astonishment as a dam wall broke,” Kantor and Twohey write of the response to that first article. A day after it was published, so many women phoned The Times to report allegations of sexual harassment and assault against Weinstein that the paper had to assign additional reporters to handle the calls. On Oct. 10, another round of women, including marquee names like Gwyneth Paltrow, Angelina Jolie and Rosanna Arquette, went public in a second article in The Times. Three weeks later, a third article detailed still more accounts of sexual abuse by Weinstein, spanning the globe and dating back to the 1970s. “This has haunted me my entire life,” said 62-year-old Hope Exiner d’Amore, who recounted being raped by Weinstein when she was in her early 20s.

This series of articles in many ways ignited the #MeToo movement, already smoldering in the atmosphere of frustration after reports of Donald Trump’s alleged sexual predations (a story that Twohey broke with another reporter) and the release of the “Access Hollywood” tape failed to slow the reality star’s march to the White House. Their reporting, Kantor and Twohey recall in “She Said,” seemed to operate as a “solvent for secrecy, pushing women all over the world to speak up about similar experiences.”

And a solvent for the structures that enforced that secrecy. A day after the first story came out, a third of the (all-male) board of the Weinstein Company resigned and the remaining members put Weinstein on leave. Two days later, he was fired. Within a year, his corporation declared bankruptcy — and, as part of the Chapter 11 filing, released employees from nondisclosure agreements.

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What explains the company’s decades of inaction? Answering that question, and parsing the ways that such entities and their centurions functioned as Weinstein’s shield, is the prime focus of “She Said.” The guardians the authors unmask aren’t only the obvious ones. Yes, Weinstein’s board members looked the other way long after they knew; yes, The National Enquirer and Black Cube security snoops deep-sixed damaging accounts and shut down whistle-blowers. Yes, Weinstein’s brother, Bob, the company’s co-founder, kept mum beyond all reason — even after Harvey had punched him in the face. But there was also the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, which often kept its settlements secret. And David Boies, the lawyer admired for championing gay marriage before the Supreme Court, who served as Weinstein’s personal consigliere and tried to squash every threat of bad press. And Linda Fairstein, the celebrated Manhattan sex crimes prosecutor, who, after an Italian model reported to the New York City police that Weinstein had groped her, brokered connections between Weinstein’s legal team and the lead prosecutor and tried to discredit the woman’s allegation to Twohey.

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[ “She Said” names some of the people who helped Harvey Weinstein evade scrutiny. ]

And then there was Gloria Allred, the crusading feminist lawyer, whose law firm, in 2004, negotiated a nondisclosure agreement for one of Weinstein’s victims; the firm pocketed 40 percent of the settlement. “While the attorney cultivated a reputation for giving female victims a voice,” Kantor and Twohey write, “some of her work and revenue was in negotiating secret settlements that silenced them and buried allegations of sexual harassment and assault.” Allred went on to do the same with women who had been abused by the Fox News host Bill O’Reilly and the Olympics gymnastics doctor Larry Nassar. In 2017, after a group of lawyers in California persuaded a state legislator to consider a bill that would ban confidentiality clauses muzzling sexual harassment victims, Allred denounced the move and threatened to go on the attack. The legislator, Connie Leyva, quickly shelved the idea. (A year later, Leyva introduced such a bill and it was signed into law.)

Maybe the most appalling figure in this constellation of collaborators and enablers is Lisa Bloom, Allred’s daughter. A lawyer likewise known for winning sexual-harassment settlements with nondisclosure agreements, Bloom was retained by Weinstein (who had also bought the movie rights to her book). In a jaw-dropping memo to Weinstein, Bloom itemized her game plan: Initiate “counterops online campaigns,” place articles in the press painting one of his accusers as a “pathological liar,” start a Weinstein Foundation “on gender equality” and hire a “reputation management company” to suppress negative articles on Google. Oh, and this gem: “You and I come out publicly in a pre-emptive interview where you talk about evolving on women’s issues, prompted by death of your mother, Trump pussy grab tape and, maybe, nasty unfounded hurtful rumors about you. … You should be the hero of the story, not the villain. This is very doable.”

“She Said” contains a second story of what’s doable against great odds: how two reporters with no connections in Hollywood and with almost no one willing to go on the record were able to penetrate this omertà and expose what lay behind it to public scrutiny. This is the book’s deeper level, the story of getting a story, signaled in the choice of chapter titles like “The First Phone Call” and “‘Who Else Is on the Record?’” Kantor and Twohey have crafted their news dispatches into a seamless and suspenseful account of their reportorial journey, a gripping blow-by-blow of how they managed, “working in the blank spaces between the words,” to corroborate allegations that had been chased and abandoned by multiple journalists before them. “She Said” reads a bit like a feminist “All the President’s Men.”

Kantor and Twohey take us through the time-consuming, meticulous and often go-nowhere grunt work that’s intrinsic to gathering evidence, winning the trust of gun-shy victims and maneuvering past barricades that block the path to a publishable article. Along the way, we witness how much institutional support such a protracted effort requires. Kantor and Twohey make a point throughout the book of stressing their reliance on a multilayered editorial team, from rigorous young research assistants like Grace Ashford, who combs through government employment data and tracks down a key former assistant from the late 1980s at Miramax, Weinstein’s film production company, to seasoned elder hands like the Times investigative editor Rebecca Corbett. “Sixtysomething, skeptical, scrupulous and allergic to flashiness or exaggeration,” Kantor and Twohey write of her, “but so low profile that she barely surfaced in Google search results. Her ambition was journalistic, not personal.” The night before the first article ran, Corbett remained in the newsroom until dawn, weighing and reweighing every word.

In this way, “She Said” is a dead-on description of what makes so-called “legacy” journalism so powerful. Ironically, the #MeToo movement that Kantor and Twohey’s articles about Weinstein helped launch promulgates an opposite message: that the best way to bring injustice to light is to get rid of the “gatekeepers” and let rip on Twitter, that we’ll only get to the “truth” when the Establishment is brought down and no one is in charge.

[ Read: “I’m Harvey Weinstein — you know what I can do.” ]

It may be, as the political writer Lee Smith argued in The Weekly Standard, that some journalists had protected Weinstein partly out of a craven illusion that the Hollywood rainmaker would someday make rain for them, buying their articles for high-grossing films. And no doubt the #MeToo movement has prompted the mainstream media to take these stories more seriously. Would Vanity Fair’s editor today omit allegations of sexual assault from a profile of Jeffrey Epstein, as happened in 2003? Nonetheless, the big-league sexual predators who have been brought to justice in the #MeToo era have been brought there not by internet whisper campaigns but by good old-fashioned reporting: O’Reilly by The Times, Nassar by The Indianapolis Star, Epstein by The Miami Herald, Roy Moore by The Washington Post, Weinstein by The Times and The New Yorker. “The Weinstein story had impact,” the authors note, “in part because it had achieved something that, in 2018, seemed rare and precious: broad consensus on the facts.”

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There’s an implication here: The answer to institutionally protected predation isn’t the anti-institutionalism of social media and viral tweets, but a powerful counter-institution capable of mounting a rigorous investigation, run by, yes, gatekeepers. Not spelled out but amply evident in Kantor and Twohey’s reckoning is the importance that those gatekeepers be female as well as male. In 2013, Jill Abramson, then The Times’s executive editor, promoted Corbett and another woman to the paper’s senior editorial staff, making the masthead 50 percent female for the first time in history. What happens when you get that kind of sisterhood is familiar to any spectator of the Women’s World Cup. Watching Kantor and Twohey pursue their goal while guarding each other’s back is as exhilarating as watching Megan Rapinoe and Crystal Dunn on the pitch.

Toward the end of the book, Kantor and Twohey devote two chapters to Christine Blasey Ford and her decision to air her sexual-assault allegations against the Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh. This, and the book’s finale, “The Gathering,” seem appended, an anticlimactic climax. In “The Gathering,” the reporters assemble 12 of the sexual abuse victims they interviewed (including a McDonald’s worker, Kim Lawson, who helped organize a nationwide strike over the fast-food franchise’s failure to address sexual harassment) at Gwyneth Paltrow’s Brentwood mansion to talk, over gourmet Japanese cuisine, about what they’ve endured since going public with their charges. The testimonials inevitably descend into platitudes about personal “growth” and getting “some sense of myself back.” At one point, Paltrow starts crying over the way Weinstein had invoked his support for her career to get women to submit to his advances, and Lawson’s friend (a McDonald’s labor organizer who came with her so she wouldn’t feel alone in a room full of movie stars) hands the actress a box of tissues.

These therapeutic scenes paste a pat conclusion onto a book that otherwise keeps the focus not on individual behavior or personal feelings but on the apparatuses of politics and power. At the least, though, the contrast throws into relief how un-pat, instructive and necessary “She Said” is. It turns out we did need to hear more about Weinstein — and the “more” that Kantor and Twohey give us draws an important distinction between the trendy ethic of hashtag justice and the disciplined professionalism and institutional heft that actually got the job done.

Susan Faludi is the author of “Backlash: The Undeclared War Against American Women” and, most recently, “In the Darkroom.”

SHE SAID

Breaking the Sexual Harassment Story That Helped Ignite a Movement

By Jodi Kantor and Megan Twohey

310 pp. Penguin Press. $28.

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Edition 8 By Joseph S. Nye Jr., David A. Welch.

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The other day Benny Peiser, of the climate-sceptical Global Warming Policy Structure, said Prof Lewis has consented to join its consultatory council. Compare to one more geopolitics reporters, Robert Kaplan, Parag Khanna's representation of the international geopolitics is not only dull, however surface. In order to truly judge the adjustments that are being made in a social concern classification by an And also Sport company, it is a lengthy dimension process that can span many years. http://wiedergeboreneschonheit.info/ assists the person to have more fun with the diet regimen by allowing numerous foods to be added into the strategy so that an individual delights in various tastes. In the here and now era of audience fragmentation, specific audience members increasingly choose exactly what sort of news content they get, yet traditional information values commonly still govern how deeply a news story penetrates an area. 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New Post has been published on https://attendantdesign.com/sports-bosses-on-thin-ice-in-eu-antitrust-probe-2/

Sports bosses on thin ice in EU antitrust probe

Ostensibly, it’s about men in skin-tight suits racing on ice. But it has the potential to cripple the power of corporations that run many of the Global’s pinnacle sports.

The European Commission is nearing the finish line in an antitrust research right into a complaint through two Dutch pace skaters, whose governing frame banned them from taking component in a rewarding and glamorous race planned for the rolling sands of Dubai.

For the skaters and different athletes who guide them, the case is ready having the liberty

to ply their trade at a time while money is pouring into sports — and gamers and golf equipment want greater manipulate over their personal fortunes.

But the associations and federations that run many important sports warn that if their powers are diminished, business interests will have triumphed over carrying values and their capacity to invest inside the grass roots will decline. They additionally increase the threat of other sports activities going the manner of boxing, with its difficult array of multiple governing bodies, all with their own titles and champions.

Big sports activities businesses, which includes the International Olympic Committee and European soccer’s governing body, UEFA, are retaining a near eye on the case, which is likewise a reminder of how even the maximum obscure probes with the aid of Europe’s competition company can ship shock waves across European economies and industries.

“A precedent [could] Similarly the erosion of global federations’ strength and ‘open the market’ of sports activities opposition business enterprise ways beyond skating,” James Ogilvie, an EU affairs representative with know-how in global soccer, stated through electronic mail.

“We suppose they pass too far in stopping us from pursuing possibilities as professional athletes and operating citizens within the EU” — Former Olympic champion Mark Tuitert Across a variety of sports activities, clubs, athletes, and competitions such as soccer leagues are vying for extra autonomy from their governing bodies, and a bold verdict from the Commission might want that transition, Ogilvie stated.

After conserving a listening to earlier this year, regulators are the idea to be final in on a final verdict, consistent with two humans following the case, and a choice could come as soon as after the Commission’s summer spoil. Europe’s effective commissioner for competition, Margrethe Vestager, has taken a private hobby inside the case, telling one of the skaters on Twitter: “I will inspect the problem.”

Plans on ice

Back in 2014, the area of interest sport of speed skating appeared to be on the cusp of a commercial enterprise revolution.

Icederby, an organization owned by a South Korean occasions firm, became making plans pace-skating races within the dunes of Dubai and aimed to maintain comparable activities in Las Vegas, Russia, and Asia.

The concept, apparently, became to deliver the glamour of Formula 1 to the sport.

  European Commissioner for Competition Margrethe Vestager was enthusiastic. But Ottavio Cinquanta, an Italian businessman, one-time ice skater and then-president of skating’s governing body, the International Skating Union (ISU), became now not a fan.

The ISU refused to authorize the occasion, which it stated could attract gamblers. Under its guidelines, any skaters who took element would face a lifelong ban from the events it controlled, which include the Olympics.

In June 2014, skaters Mark Tuitert, a former Olympic champion, and Niels Kerstholt, a former world champion, complained to the European Commission.

The Dutch skaters argued that the ISU became abusing its dominant role over skating, restricting their professional possibilities and prescribing the game’s reach. Icederby offers a pinnacle prize of $a hundred thirty,000 — a great quantity in comparison to the €2,000 a top pace-skater could aspire to win at ISU occasions, according to the skaters’ attorney.

“We think they cross to a long way in stopping us from pursuing opportunities as professional athletes and working citizens inside the EU,” Tuitert advised POLITICO. He complained that skaters had no say “about who is inside the ISU, nor about the rules.”

“What is the role of federations and the powers they need to monopolize the game?” EU  he requested probe Sports 

EU Athletes, a federation, has voiced its guide for the skaters.

  ALSO ON POLITICO Spanish league wishes EU to referee Neymar switch saga

NICHOLAS HIRST The Commission opened a research in the fall of 2015 — its first carrying case in nicely over a decade, regardless of numerous court cases — and officially accused the ISU of infringing antitrust guidelines in September 2016.

That triggered a stir inside the world of sports activities, wherein governing bodies concept they loved a wide margin of discretion to determine what turned into in their sport’s high-quality pursuits.

The ISU, which became 125 years antique remaining month, informed the Commission it approves activities as long as they meet its standards, inclusive of on safety and values, inclusive of competition to gambling. Since the criticism became filed, it has decreased the duration of the ban for skaters that take part in unauthorized occasions.

What’re The Odds?

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Are You In It For Fun Or For Money?

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This kind of heart-stopping action is not for me. For my money, I prefer a more predictable type of wagering

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Taking The Gambling Out of Sports Betting

A winning bettor always tries to take the gamble out of the game. Each bet is a calculated risk. There is no magic method that will bring in thousands of dollars overnight.

Taking down a steady monthly profit, working only 5 minutes a day IS the only way. And if you let your account multiply for a few months, before long (months not years), you will reach a point where you could be bringing in hundreds or even thousands of dollars of profit each month… now that’s magical.