#yeah yeah i know this isn't seasonally appropriate

[skyahri]

Retire |Kakashi X Reader| HC

Summary: You need some convincing to leave ANBU.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and depression. Mentions of suicide. A bit angsty and self-destructive, but fluffy overall.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Even though he'd retired a few years back, you were still an active ANBU captain.

The job was grueling, and he was well aware that the longer you stayed, the worse the missions became.

That isn't just because of the overall baggage people acquire, but because seasoned black ops were often sent on the more... unethical missions.

You'd been acting off recently. He had let it go at first, knowing how taxing the line of work could be, but something in his mind was bugging him to investigate.

He assumed everything had started to actually get to you, so he decided to check in on you between missions with team 7.

He knocked on your door. It took a minute, but you answered.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but this wasn't it.

Your appearance was appalling.

You'd lost a lot of weight, you had bags under your eyes, and you reeked of alcohol.

"Just checking in on you. It's been a while."

"Yeah, Tsunade has me on back to back missions. This is my first break in months."

He had assumed his intensive schedule with his team was the thing keeping you two apart, but apparently not.

"How about you get cleaned up while I go get us something to eat? My treat."

"I'm pretty tired, Kashi. I think I'd like to continue rotting for the time being. Thanks for the offer, though."

You gently shut the door in his face.

A sour look plastered itself on his face.

Unfortunately, your use of rotting didn't seem too far off, so he decided to talk to a third party about it.

His first stop was to see Tenzo. Maybe he knew what was up since you two worked so closely.

"I've noticed as well. I tried to ask, but they told me it wasn't appropriate for subordinates to question their captain."

Add that to the list of odd behavior.

You loved Tenzo like family, just like Kakashi did, so the sudden change was worrisome.

He went to ask Asuma as well, knowing he had been in the village more often than he had recently.

Asuma pulled him inside his home and away from prying eyes. Last thing he wanted was the wrong person hearing such a sensitive information.

"We already talked to Tsunade about it months ago when we noticed a decline in her health. Word got back to them, they said something about breach of trust, and they haven't spoken to any of us since."

Kakashi just nodded.

He remembered a time where he also reacted poorly when he'd been questioned in a similar manner.

The only difference is lord Third actually listened instead of allowing him to dig himself deeper into an early grave.

He dwelled on it for a few days.

He cared about you deeply. It was different than any of his other friendships- more personal and open.

The last thing he wanted was to go behind your back and end up with the same treatment the rest of the group was getting.

So he put on his big boy pants and showed up at your door again with vengeance.

He had been practicing what he'd say the whole way over. He needed to be prepared for anything you threw at him so he didn't falter.

But when you opened the door, his fire simmered out.

You just looked so tired.

His words got stuck in his throat.

So he did the only thing he could think of - he just walked forward, straight into you, and wrapped you up in a hug.

You resisted at first, but the second his warmth hit your bones, you relaxed.

It only lasted for a moment before the feelings started to set in, causing your body to shake with sobs.

You fell to the ground, dragging him with you, but his hold didn't loosen one bit.

"It's okay. I'm here for you."

That only made things worse. Something about his comfort was making all the feelings you've worked so hard to repress bubble up to the surface.

After you'd visibly calmed down, he'd picked you up and carried you to the couch. He positioned you so you'd be touching as much as possible without him being too forward.

"I hate ANBU."

Straight to the point. He wasn't sure if that was good or not.

"Why don't you retire? It's been almost fifteen years. That's way longer than most make it."

You hesitated. You had a reason, but the thought of saying it out loud made it sound so silly.

One look at Kakashi’s face told you he wasn't messing around.

You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder. It made it easier to answer without him looking at you.

"If it's not me going out there, its someone else. I'm already too far gone, may as well save someone else from this fate."

Oh.

Kakashi had fully been expecting some sort of 'I can handle it' response, but this one was so... awful. Just absolutely heart-wrenching.

He collected his thoughts, trying to find a way to reason with you.

"There are people in ANBU who can handle that kind of mental load. You were that person many years ago,"

You just looked at him with that sad, defeated face, and it broke his heart all over again.

"But that's not the case anymore. It's time to pass on the torch."

You shook your head, ready to get up and kick him out. He just pulled you back down and held your hands in his.

"I was so angry when I was forced to retire. I felt like I could do more, like it wasn't that bad, and everyone was underestimating me. Do you know what happens when shinobi like us aren't told to quit?"

You shook your head.

"They end up like my father."

You stayed silent after that. How could you argue when he had just pulled the dead dad card?

So you promised to think about it.

He knew that would be as good as it would get, so he dropped it and opted to switch to a lighter subject.

After an hour or so of talking, you fell asleep. He carried you to your bed and tucked you in. He thought about staying over, but decided against it.

He didn't see you the next day. He'd knocked on your door, but no one answered, and he couldn't sense you inside.

He hoped you were just busy and not on another mission.

He did see you the next day, however.

He was heading to the Hokage's tower to chat with Tsunade about team 7's next mission when he bumped into you.

You smiled at him.

It felt like he was looking at a different person. You were almost glowing. Your eyes seemed a bit brighter, face looked a little fuller, and overall vibe was less damming.

"I retired this morning."

He damn near hugged you in front of the whole village.

"That's great to hear."

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

why do so many people keep calling ed izzy's abuser? I thought it was kind of funny how wrong they were at first because I love being right but at this point I feel like, if you really believe that why do you even like this show? where the main love interest is a violently abusive indigenous man? that sounds boring as shit. what would possess the writers of the show for them to make such an awful decision?

but then I think, if this many people believe it does that mean I'm the one who's wrong? or is it that the creators fumbled that storyline when they should have been clearer about it? or maybe it's just that most people on here have had their reading comprehension scorched away by Sherlock Holmes conspiracy theories and Steven Universe discourse. I can't tell. sometimes I think the internet may have been a mistake.

No they're wrong here's what's going on. People all read this shitty fic called Hell or High Water where Ed was everything the Izzy stans say he was and then instead of realizing that Ed is sad everyone regressed into thinking that the Kraken Era TM was going to be incredibly violent, like serial killing blond men because they look like Stede levels of violence. Even if you didn't read HoHW you saw art or read fic from people who had engaged with this fic and succumbed to it's premise. So there's been this background radiation of misunderstanding what the Kraken is on the fandom for several months. So inevitably when Ed did some mild violence and then attempted suicide by threatening murder until the crew took matters into their own hands, which is not abuse or torture by any stretch, btw, it's a murder-suicide at worst (I say at worst because I consider it fuckery-suicide I don't think Ed was trying to kill people I think he was trying to force them into a situation where they thought it was kill or be killed so that they would choose to kill him, but that is my interpretation and you are free to think it's a botched murder-suicide I have no problem with that), which, murder is something the show has never condemned and if it did it would be horribly inconsistent. So anyway, Ed's whole Kraken Era was categorized in the show by him being sad and doing so many drugs and begging someone please god anyone to kill him and trying to break Ned Low's record out of the evil boredom, but because it had a murder-suicide element to it and Izzy's toes were getting removed and he waved a gun around at everyone once (in a way that felt to me like he was trying and failing to work up the nerve to blow his own brains out but I digress) people who liked HoHW and were mad that people had called it out were like "see hes being violent HoHW author vindicated" as if anything Ed did rose to the level of that fic

And you want to know how I know this read is bullshit? Because when I watch the show with people who don't read fic or interact with the fandom and then I gauge their reactions without showing my hand they all implicitly understand that Ed is reacting to Izzy in a way appropriate to how pirate captains react to threats from subordinates. The spectrum of reactions has been from "hey isn't it weird how Ed was the Kraken because his dad was abusive and now he's the kraken because of Izzy? Maybe there's something there but idk" to "I don't think you can apply the logic of domestic abuse to a pirate captain and first mate but also Izzy had it coming" to "I cannot feel bad for Izzy after last season, I'm sorry." To "lmao Izcel" and I've showed this show to roughly everyone I know. The only thing I can conclude from the fact that people who don't engage with OFMD fic almost unilaterally thinking that Izzy is in the wrong and then coming online to see people thinking the opposite is that Izzy as victim and Ed as abuser is pure fanon, like how Stede is a cinnamon roll who talks like Azeriphael.

But anyway yeah you're completely right about the fact that this would be a bad show if they decided to make Ed into a domestic abuser. I don't want to watch a rom com about a domestic abuser falling in love and I don't want a show that decided to make it's indigenous lead abusive when the stereotype of indigenous men as abusers is still to this day used as an excuse to separate indigenous children from their families and put them with white Christians in order to erase their culture. Good thing OFMD didn't make Ed abusive, so I still like the show.

[eph-em-era]

hey so i am so so pleased they hired an intimacy coordinator this time around! and you can tell that the actors are much more comfortable too! the intimacy is much much better!!

let's do a lil intimacy breakdown from my knowledge as an IC in training and a director just in general

(this is a long post so it's under the cut)

fact is, there's some awkwardness in the ed/stede s1 kiss, which i am ninety percent sure is due to body placement. i'd wager there was a discussion on set that was like "hey this is a stunning shot, we love what it looks like, let's get the actors in" and they got the actors in and got to the blocking for the kiss and everyone was like "hey this is a bit awkward but we'll muscle through" - cause that awkwardness fits the character arcs.

but it's not actually all that easy turning all the way to one side to kiss someone without moving where your legs are! it's weird! it's an awkward angle! - or more accurately, it's the angle that two people would kiss at if it was a very impulsive, awkward surprise; or if your two lead actors are very good friends faced with playing lovers for the first time and not sure what to feel about that (we've all been there) - there's reticence, but it fits the scene so it's fine.

(Lucius and Pete and Olu and Jim also have moments of intimacy, which for the most part are fine, and I suspect that's a combo of a) their staging is SO MUCH BETTER, b) character choices, c) different directors and d) less of that "OMG WE'RE PLAYING LOVERS NOW" anxiety)

~~onto season 2~~

for the record, intimacy direction isn't just for kissing/sex scenes, ICs can come in for intimacy building exercises and additional blocking, as well as things like nudity, childbirth or any similar sensitive work, but I'm going to be talking mostly about kisses in this. anyway!

Beautiful! Kind, lovely, tender! The backdrop is super nice too. Honestly, the Lucius/Pete stuff has really been so nice all the way along; that's great casting! Especially in S2E5, everything reads as very earnest and space is used very well.

Archie and Jim. Now, we don't have anything to compare it to from S1, but I'm flagging it cause yeah, they definitely have similar staging to Ed/Stede from S1E09. I would say there's a much better range of movement in this one, likely because they're sitting on the floor, braced against the bed, so they can compensate for the weird angle better than E/S could. This might come off as a lil rude but it's also more likely that these two actors are slightly more flexible and can make this staging work better than Taika and Rhys.

Cannot for the LIFE OF ME find a gif of their hug, but they have fantastic chemistry! despite only showing up for like 2/3s of one episode. I've seen people whining about how they absolutely should have kissed - and you know what, I would have liked that too!

however, I suspect that what happened here was that one or both of the actors didn't want to kiss on screen, and voiced their objections to the IC, who found a work around. It was likely not cause of any kind of ill will or homophobia, for the record - sometimes you just don't want to kiss people. Maybe you're sick, maybe you're feeling weird, maybe you're just not in the right headspace, but a kiss might be off the cards that day.

This is behaviour we want to encourage, btw. The goal is to ensure that actors feel comfortable and that the shot isn't be all end all. I've done something very similar, we had 20 mins to get the blocking done and the actors weren't at a point where kissing felt comfy, so we did a kiss on the cheek and a hug.

it is better that the actors are comfortable than your ship is fulfilled.

Hey yknow what I was saying about how ICs aren't just used for blocking, they're used for chemistry building? That's what they've HIT ON HERE. This is genuinely a very lovely kiss. It's deeply appropriate for the characters, and it's private and simple. things get a little more raunchy, and hands start moving, but then it's stopped, for a narrative reason, and the chemistry remains with the hand hold. It's really very nice, well blocked and well performed. the hand placement! the tenderness! it's great. there's none of that s1 reticence, whether that was from characters or actors.

I think the intimacy work, much like the writing and the characterisation is much, much stronger in this season, and that's to the show's benefit. I know we're only halfway through, but I'm thoroughly interested to see where things go in the remaining episodes. I will update this post if anything exciting crops up in the final five.

and this is why you need to hire ICs! they make life easier for actors, directors and crew alike!!

[mikachacha]

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙸𝚜 𝙼𝚎 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

Synopsis: You're Monika's little sister and you share the love for dancing like your older sister does so you decided to join team Bebe, wanting to prove to everyone and to yourself that you're not just Monika's shadow.

Warnings: a bit of angst because why not? but there's gonna be fluff 🫶🫶

(A/N: this request came from anon and it's hard not to do it because i can picture this in my head 😭 it's so good and im really hoping that i do this idea any justice)

🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸

You sighed heavily as you looked at Bada and your team. You're extremely nervous since you were invited as a team to join Street Woman Fighter 2, the same competition your older sister joined as well. You were supposed to join with your sister at the first season but the both of you ultimately decided against it. As Monika said, people would only see you as her copycat which is completely understandable to you got her permission to join another dance crew so you can further improve and make a name for yourself, not just because you are Shin Y/N, Monika's little sister.

"You good babe?" Bada snapped you out of your trance and you nodded, smiling at her. You and Bada had been friends for the longest time and when you officially joined Bebe, the both of you got even closer then started dating. Monika has been amazing and supported your relationship with Bada. She's just glad that her baby sister is being loved and treated well.

"Yeah.. Just nervous about what the other people are gonna say." you told her and she gave your hand a squeeze to ease your nerves. You hugged each team member, your own way of saying good luck and to ease your anxiety. When it was go time, you put on your resting bitch face and walked out with your team to the fight zone to meet the other competitors.

The things other groups has said about your team is infuriating. You know some comments were made just for the sake of the competition but damn, they hit all the wrong nerves and it pissed you off. You expected the comments like "Monika's shadow" directed to you and you didn't really care but when they were disregarding your other team member's efforts by calling Bebe nothing if it wasn't for you and Bada, you really wanted to start a fight. That's just downright mean.

When everyone has already settled down, you could feel some stares directed at you. You couldn't really blame them since it's like you're a carbon copy of Monika though you'd like to believe that you're the goofier sister but then the both of you are goof balls when together so it's hard to tell.

"She really is Monika's shadow.. Look at her joining Street Woman Fighter as well.." you heard hushed comments like that which made your brows furrow. You're now itching to prove them wrong, that you're your own person and not just your sister's shadow.

Bada also heard the comments and just subtly held your hand, assuring you that everything's gonna be okay and you'll definitely crush everyone who thinks that you're a shadow of your sister, that you're just a cheaper version of Monika.

When it was time to reveal who got the most 'no respect' in each team, you got the most but instead of getting angry, you grinned. It's time to show them what you're really made off. Everyone changed to more dance appropriate outfits and went back to the fight zone. Bada went in first against Redy which secured the first win for your team. When it was finally your turn, you looked at Bada and then your sister, who gave you an encouraging nod. Even being Monika's sister won't save you from her harsh words. She's fair when it comes to judging and isn't scared to hurt you with the truth as long as it means you're going to improve yourself.

You had a battle with at least one representative from other competing teams and there were times that you lost but it didn't put out the burning determination you felt to show them who Shin Y/N really is. You danced like your life depended on it and when it was finally over, you rushed back to your team and Bada immediately wrapped you in a hug along with your team members who's very much proud of you. The other teams were stunned to say the least. They didn't expect you to be that good. You're versatile as a dancer and has that unwavering determination in your eyes and it was then silently agreed on by everyone who doubted you that you are indeed your own person, not just Monika's sister. You are a force to be reckoned with.

[cononeillbreastingboobily]

Thoughts and feelings about Izzy in s2ep4 and what it means to me as a fellow disabled person:

Yeah, so, that episode, huh?

You know, I already knew going into this new season that Izzy's storyline is going to hit me hard regardless of the exact little plot points it might have, but it's only now, several hours after I've watched eps 4&5 that I'm really starting to digest what his story means to me in it's current shape. This is... a bit long. I also mention a character from a different show - Isaac from Sex Education.

Izzy has always been a bit of a dick, right? That's the reason a lot of people hated him in the first season.

Well, now he is a bit of a dick and disabled. And let me tell you how fucking ecstatic I am about that.

You see, looking for disabled characters in media I consume has rarely been gratifying - if they are there at all, which already is rare, they have very little to do, and if they're even semi-important, they're almost always the epitomes of goodness. Nice, understanding, quiet, patient.

Barely there.

The first time I truly felt something change in this area was with the appearance of Isaac in Netflix's Sex Education. He's sarcastic, funny, talented, honest and mean.

The fandom of that show hated Isaac, let me tell you.

It was mostly because he took direct action to separate the main ship of the show that had many people obsessed. As you'd expect. People's ableism immediately jumped out. As you'd expect.

Because how dare he have his own motivations and wants, and to do what he thinks is right?

Barely there.

And now we have Izzy. Izzy, who also did what he thought was right, which in s1 of the show was trying to separate Ed and Stede. He wasn't trying to make himself too likeable at any point (well. when the crew almost mutinied on him in s1 he did do a last ditch effort but. you remember how well that went).

My point is that now we have someone who isn't particularly nice, and now he's dealing with a sudden loss of ability in his body, which is going to make him even worse. He's angry! Of course he is! He's hobbling around with half a leg gone, humiliated, exhausted, barely recovered from impromptu amputation, no anesthesia. And a suicide attempt! He's angry at himself, his body, at Ed, at Stede, at God if he still believes in one, and who knows who else.

He isn't suddenly going to become nicer to people just because. He doesn't need to be humbled.

(a little sidenote: I do not accept the reasoning that Izzy somehow deserved to lose his leg, that "oh what did he expect riling up Ed when he was heartbroken?" etc. He wasn't expecting to get shot in the fucking leg. Nobody fucking deserves that, and if you think that Ed shooting him in the leg and Izzy subsequently having to have it amputated was an "appropriate punishment" for "what he's done", you're just cruel and wrong. Now scram.)

But that's the point. Disabled people deserve help regardless of whether or not we are nice.

Thankfully (not from Izzy's point of view - his pride was definitely bruised in that moment) the crew saw him struggle, and acted in kind. Because Izzy is their dick. And now - also their unicorn.

And it means so much to me that we get the representation of disabled people who thrash around and rattle the bars of their societal cages, furious at the world that isn't welcoming to us, and receive love and care and an invitation to a loving community regardless.

We shouldn't have to be here just when ableds are ready to give. We aren't meek vessels for your good will. Izzy is such a painfully realistic (as far as the universe of the show permits, given it's unavoidable goofiness) portrayal of the anger of someone who's lost some of their body's past ability, and how one might deal with it.

And I really wanted to say something about that, because I'm afraid it might get lost in the discussion about the more popular and more easily digestible aspects of the show.

[elianamarie-blog]

The Things You Give Part 33

Whooooooweeee it's be a very long time! I'm so sorry it took so long to write this! I've been having a hard time feeling motivated but it's past the New Years and I decided that I need to end this story shortly. Story isn't done quite yet, but there are only a few more chapters! I hope you all had a beautiful holiday season and New Years! I know I did. Enjoy the chapter!

Quick note: Danny Masterson has been imprisoned and now Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher are under fire and now being cancelled apparently. Not a good start of the year for anyone.

June 1, 1979

Point Place, Wisconsin

Forman/Hyde Residence

Eric Forman’s Kitchen

“Hey, you two, how was your doctor’s appointment?” Kitty asked as she was stirring a hot pot of chili on the stove.

“Ugh,” Y/n groaned and plopped down on the chair at the table.

“The doctor says she can pop any day now,” Hyde answered for her and opened the fridge for a drink.

“Awe, sweetheart, you must be so uncomfortable,” Kitty said.

“I am. I’m so sick of being pregnant,” she whined. “I’m tired, my ankles are fat, my back hurts and���Steven! Will you please stop breathing down my neck?!”

“Uh,” he replied from the counter, no where close to her. “I’m over here.”

Y/n whined again. “I’m so sick of being pregnant.”

“The doctor said there are a couple things we can do to induce labor,” Steven said and pulled out a list. “She said we can try spicy foods, long walks, castor oil—”

“Don’t forget what she said could be more effective,” Y/n cut in.

Steven gave her a stoney look and put his hand on his hip. “I’m not saying that.”

“Why not? She’s a nurse she hears this stuff all the time! Besides, she’s gone through this as well!”

“What? Tell me what?” Kitty asked.

“No, I’m not saying it!”

“Steven!”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, tell me what?!” Kitty cried out.

“The doctor said sex can be the most effective to induce labor,” Y/n blurted out.

“Y/n, what the hell?!” Steven said, embarrassed.

“Oh,” Kitty said lowly and dropped her gaze back to the chili, almost uninterested. “Okay.”

“Okay? That’s all you got to say?” Y/n asked.

“Honey, it’s pretty clear that you wouldn’t be pregnant if you and Steven hadn’t…you know…”

“Okay!” Steven interrupted. “As nice as this conversation is, I gotta get to work.”

“Okay, fine, but—Mom, cover your ears—we’re doing it later!” Y/n shouted after him as he slammed the door shut, hoping to drown out that last part.

“Well, isn’t that lovely,” Kitty mumbled and poured herself a cup of chili. “Y/n, on a more appropriate topic, do you want some chili?”

“Hey, guys,” Eric introduced himself as he entered the kitchen. “Great news! I’m on my way to becoming a teacher. I filled out all my college application with red pen.” He giggled to himself. “That’s a teacher joke.”

“Well, now look at him!” Red announced as he walked through the kitchen door. “Out of bed and productive before three o’ clock.”

“Honey, you’re like a marine!” Kitty said cheerfully.

“A marine?” Y/n asked. “The only time I ever saw him storm a beach was when he was running away from a jellyfish!”

“Damn, what did you have for breakfast this morning? Carnation Instant Bitch?” Eric quipped.

“If I could get up, I’d kick your ass for saying that,” Y/n threatened, sighing, and shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the pain in lower back starting to intensify.

“Yeah, anyway,” Eric said and turned back to Red. “Hey, dad, all I need from you now is a financial statement so the school can see where I'm getting the old moola.”

“Oh, well, you see about that…” Red mumbled, nervous. “I, uh...I spent your college money to keep the muffler shop going.”  

“What?!” the twins shouted.

“You spent our college fund?!” Y/n continued.

“Why do you care?” Eric asked her. “It’s not like you’re going to college anytime soon. You don’t even know what you want to study.”

“Who says I don’t?” she asked. “I decided that I’m going to study biomedical engineering. Beat that, teach.”

“You’re going to study biomedical engineering?!” Kitty asked excitedly. “I knew you were going to take after me in the medical field!”

“Except the difference is she’ll be helping advance technology in the medical field instead of having to wipe people’s butts and administer them their IV’s,” Red said.

“Is that what you think I do all day?” Kitty asked, offended.

“Uh…” he whipped back to Y/n who was looking up at him with an amused smile. “Good job, kitten. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you,” she responded. “It would mean more if we had our college money!”

“Dad, how are we supposed to pay for college?” Eric asked.

“Look, with this damn mild winter, nobody's muffler rusted,” Red said. “I tried to rust them. I even went out at night and sprinkled salt all over the streets!”

Kitty squinted at her husband. “Not my good kosher salt!”

Red looked at his wife with a deadpanned look and rolled his eyes. “Yes, Kitty, I sprinkled the streets of Point Place with your half-pound bag of salt.”

“Wait. Mom, you knew about this?” Eric asked. “And you just said, ‘Please, go ahead. Take my son's college money and use it on a muffler shop?’”

“No,” she responded. “I think your father asked me if I thought you two would amount to anything, and I said, ‘I really, really hope so.’ And then he said, ‘I'm spending the twins’ college money on my muffler shop.’ And then I made the best blueberry cobbler I have ever made."

“Man, that was good,” Y/n reminisced. “I remember that cobbler. I always wondered why, when I said it was so good, you said, ‘At least I can give you this,’ and started to cry.”

“So, the upshot is, I have absolutely no money for college,” Eric said and puckered his lips in deep thought. “Looks like I’m going to have to use that football scholarship that was offered to me.”

“Oh, Eric, we should go talk to Mr. Bray!” Y/n suggested.

“Our old guidance counselor?” he asked.

“Finding money for college is what high school guidance counselors do.”

“I don't know about Mr. Bray. I don't think he really liked me,” Eric said. “One time I told him I was being bullied, and he just said, ‘What'd you expect?’"

“I’ll go with you,” Y/n said. “Mr. Bray loved me…in almost entirely appropriate ways.”

“Yeah…we’ll go,” Eric said, a little concerned.

“Okay, now that we got all that settled, we should celebrate!” Kitty announced.

Y/n scoffed. “Sure. With what?”

                                             --Later that day—

“Hey, don’t forget about the Led Zepplin concert next Friday,” Eric reminded his friends as they all sat in the basement.

“How could I forget?” Hyde asked. “It was the greatest bribery I’ve ever had.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at them.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Hyde. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing," she sighed, eyeing the TV and rubbed her belly.

“No, no you don’t get to do that just because you’re pregnant,” he pushed. “I know you, what’s wrong?”

“Awe, Steven, that’s really sweet,” Jackie said and turned to Markus. “When he and I were together, he wouldn’t even be bothered to ask me what was wrong. It didn’t even faze him.”

“To be fair, you’re always bothered by something,” Hyde quipped. “It was something new every day. I stopped keeping up after a while.”

“I am not!” she argued and turned to Markus who gave her a look. “Okay, maybe I was, but I’ve changed! The other day, I walked by a shoe sale and wasn’t upset that they didn’t have this beautiful shoe in my size. See? Growth.”

“Sure,” Hyde mindlessly and turned back to his wife. “C’mon, what’s wrong?”

“I’d rather not talk about it in front of our friends,” she responded.

“So, you guys can make out in front of us, even get caught doing it, but expressing why you’re upset is where you draw the line?” Donna pointed out.

“Yeah, spill it!” Fez demanded.

Y/n paused before sighing through her nose. “I don’t think you should go.”

“What?!” Eric shouted.

“Why?!” Hyde asked, appalled. “Why don’t you want me to go?”

“Well, I could go into labor any day now and I’d hate for you to miss the birth of your children for a concert,” she explained calmly.

“Y/n, your due date is on Monday. The kids will be here a full five days before the concert. I think it’ll be okay.”

“What if they’re not here by then? They can be late, you know,” Y/n pointed out.

“Come on, don’t do this,” Hyde said. “Don’t make me choose.”

“I shouldn’t have to make you!” she burst out. “You should know what comes first! Not some stupid concert!”

That made the group audibly gasp.

“What?! What I say?!” she asked them.

“You take that back!” Eric said, his voice wobbly.

“Blasphemous!” Kelso shouted.

“How dare you?” Fez asked under his breath.

“Oh, come on you guys, you can’t be serious,” she said. “Are you telling me my giving birth isn’t as important as some band?”

Everyone was quiet for a minute, filling Y/n with rage.

“It’s Led Zepplin,” Fez said quietly.

“Seriously?!” Y/n screeched and stood up. “You’re all going to leave me here all alone?!”

“I’m not going to the concert,” Markus piped up. “I’ll be here for you.”

She turned to everyone else. “Thank you, Markus. Maybe if I have boys I can name one of them after you!”

This made Jackie gasp. “How dare you?! I thought we agreed on Jack or Jackie!”

“I agreed to nothing!” Y/n argued. “You just assume because you think everyone caters to you, but you can’t be bothered to return the favor! The person who helps me deserves the credit.”

“What--?! That is not true!” Jackie shouted.

Everyone around her scoffed.

“C’mon, Jackie,” Donna said, side-eyeing her.

Jackie spun around to her boyfriend. “Markus! Aren’t you going to say something?”

He shrugged. “Sorry, babe, I have to agree with Y/n on this one.”

“Oh, you are in so much trouble!” she screeched.

Y/n clapped her hands and stomped her foot, gaining their attention. “Guys! Really? I thought that after we’ve all been through, you would want to be there for the birth of your nieces or nephews.” She turned to Hyde. “Or your children.” When no one responded, Y/n scoffed, hurt. “You know, what? I don’t care what you guys do. Go to the concert. Have fun.”

She didn’t let them get another single word out before she quietly walked upstairs to her room.

Once the door slammed, Donna turned to the group. “You guys, I feel really bad.”

“Yeah…I’d be pissed too if I couldn’t go to the concert,” Kelso said casually, opening a popsicle.

“No, you moron! That’s not why she’s upset!” Hyde said, irritated.

“Well, what does she expect us to do?” Eric asked. “Those tickets were a lot and it’s not our fault that the concert falls around the same time of her due date.” When he caught Donna glaring at him, he shrugged his shoulders. “What?!”

“You’re an ass,” Donna said. “I don’t think I want to go anymore.”

“Oh, come on! You have to go,” her boyfriend said. “She may not even have the kids on the day of the concert. It would be such a waste if we didn’t go.”

“Wow, Eric,” Donna said bitterly. “You’re being incredibly insensitive.”

“Okay, let’s say the babies come before the concert. No harm, no foul, amiright?” Eric asked.

“That’s if Hyde wants to go,” Markus responded. “When my sister and her husband had my niece, they were up pretty much three days straight and the last thing they wanted to do was go to a noisy concert.”

“Well, I think she’s being a little dramatic and honestly—quite selfish,” Kelso said. Everyone turned to look at him, finding himself cringing when Hyde gave him a death glare. “What?! She is!”

“She has a point, Michael!” Jackie defended. “No matter how mean and unfair she was to me.”

“You’re telling me that we might miss her birth is an overreaction?” Donna questioned him.

Kelso nodded and shrugged. “Well…yeah!”

“Unbelievable,” Donna said curtly as Hyde slugged Kelso in the arm.

“Ow, Hyde! What the hell?!”

“Keep talking crap about my wife Kelso and you’re going home with more than a bruised arm,” he threatened.

“Damn, sorry I said anything,” Kelso whined while rubbing his sore shoulder.

“You should be,” Hyde said and made his way towards the stairs. “I’m going to go talk to her.”

He took two steps at a time as he followed his bride.

Y/n laid there in bed, glaring at the ceiling. Scenarios of possibilities wouldn’t stop dancing in her head about the day she would give birth while her supposed loving husband was at a concert.

She felt a very wet sensation run down her leg. As she looked down, she noticed that her water had broken, and it wasn’t long until the pain of contractions came along.

“Steven!” she cried out in pain. “Steven, the babies are coming!”

“Oh, really?” he asked, barley looking up from putting his jacket on. “This is inconvenient. Can you wait until I get back from the concert?”

“What?!”

“Look, the babies are important, but…Led Zepplin,” he replied, stepping backwards towards the door. “Just hold those kids in for me! Love you, bye!”

Y/n sneered at the thought, but her mind continued to race.

Smoke, heavy bass, and body sweat filled the air as the group, minus Y/n, head banged their way through each song of Led Zepplin.

“Hey, Hyde, isn’t Y/n giving birth right now?” Donna shouted through the noise, wide smile on her face.

“Yeah, but this is more important!” he shouted back.

“Yeah, to hell with her!” Eric shouted. “Led Zepplin is way more important!”

“Yeah, she’ll be fine,” Steven said. “We can always have more kids that I’ll probably end up being there for the birth!”

Tears started to well in her eyes. “Jerks.”

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Y/n?” Steven asked as he poked his head through their shared bedroom door.

She quickly grabbed for her pregnancy book on the nightstand and pretended to be reading.

“Doll, can we talk?”

“About what?” she mumbled.

“You know what.”

“I think you made up your mind, so there’s no point,” she said, staring at the page.

“No, no that’s why I wanted to come up here,” he replied. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?”

“Don’t be.”

“Y/n, can you please look at me?” he asked her and took the book from her, only to see tear streaks down her face. “Awe, Doll…”

She couldn’t stifle her sobs anymore as she broke down. “You love Led Zepplin more than me!” She shoved her face into a pillow.

He didn’t know if he should laugh or groan. “Y/n, come on, you know that’s not true.”

“No, it is!” she continued to wail. “I’m going to go into labor and you’re not going to care!”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, counting to ten. “You know that’s not true.”

“You won’t even help me go into labor!” she whined.

“I’m not going to sleep with you just so you can go into labor,” he deadpanned.

Y/n sat up and wiped at her face. “C’mon, Steven, I’m miserable here! The babies will be fine. It’s doctor recommended!”

“We haven’t even tried the others yet,” he said calmly.

Her face contorted again, fat tears rolling down her face. “You don’t find me attractive anymore!”

“I never said that!” Steven couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Then why won’t you make love to me?!”

“First, don’t say it like that ever again. And second: it has nothing to do with my finding you attractive.”

“Then what is it?” she wept.

“It’s…it’s nothing.”

This made her stop crying immediately and glare at him instead. He almost missed her crying. “What a load of crap!”

“C’mon, Y/n, don’t make me say it.”

“No, you’re gonna!” she demanded. “I want to know why you won’t have sex with your wife to help her go into labor!”

Steven tilted his head back at and stared at the ceiling. Closing his eyes, he groaned before looking back at her. “It’s weird, okay? I’m going to be doing you knowing that the babies are…right there. Knowing what’s going on.”

Y/n scrunched her eyebrows at him. “The babies are in my uterus, not in my, you know, hoo-ha.”

Steven found himself chucking at her euphonism. “What if I hurt them?”

“Like I just said, they’re farther up there than you can reach.”

“Ouch.”

She laughed and placed her hand on his arm. “Trust me, that’s something to be proud of.”

He laughed with her and kissed her.

“Let’s make a deal,” she said, catching his attention. “If I go into labor before the concert, by all means, go. But if I don’t by Friday—you don’t. What do you think?”

He tilted his head to the side, thinking before nodding. “Okay, let’s do it.”

“Okay, good,” she smiled at him as he leaned down to kiss her.

“How bout we try now?”

“Now you want to? Because of a concert?!”

“No, more so now I know I won’t hurt them or make it as weird.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky I love you.”

He laid her down onto her back, hovering above her and gently smiled. “That I am.”

                                             That Following Monday…

“That’s right, still no babies!” Y/n announced as she and Steven walked into the kitchen after their doctor appointment. Everyone sat in the kitchen, hanging out and snacking. Kitty, Donna, and Jackie sat at the table while Eric, Fez, and Kelso sat at the counter munching on some pop-tarts. “Today’s my due date and I am nowhere near in labor! Gah! This sucks!”

She plopped down at the table, causing it to shift.

“Oh, honey, I know how you feel,” Kitty comforted. “When I was pregnant with Laurie, I wanted her out so bad I almost reached a hand up there and yanked her out myself!”

“That’s a great story, Mom. Can you tell that to me while you’re getting me some iced tea?” Y/n snapped.

Kitty glared at her daughter as she reluctantly got up and grabbed for the pitcher in the fridge.

“Damn, pregnancy doesn’t agree with you,” Jackie said. “The bitch hormone is being released.”

“You try carrying twins who won’t stop kicking me—and each other!” she responded as the glass was placed in front of her. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Kitty grumbled as she sat back down.

“Seriously, I’ll wake up in the middle of the night to one or both of the babies moving and kicking me. Have you ever had feet stuck in your ribcage? It’s a rude awakening. Literally.”

“Yeah, I feel your pain,” Hyde said. “Whenever you’re up, I’m up.”

“Oh, shove it!” Y/n spit. “You sleep like a damn log every night! You can be getting attacked while you’re dead asleep and barley stir!”

“No, I hear you. I just choose to stay still.”

“So, while I’m over here in uncomfortable, you’re snuggling your pillow just to avoid me?!”

Fez, Kelso, and Eric shifted their gazes to Hyde with amused smirks on their faces.

“You cuddle your pillow, Hyde?” Eric taunted.

“Shut up, Forman or I will suffocate you with said pillow.”

“But if you do, you won’t have a pillow to cuddle at night,” Fez continued.

“Shut up, Fez!”

“Y/n, have you tried any of the doctor’s suggestions?” Kitty asked.

“Yeah! Steven and I have done it like a dozen times since then,” she answered.

Kitty closed her eyes and rubbed her head. “Honey…have you tried anything else besides that?”

“No, not yet.”

“Well, why don’t you start with food? Let’s go out tonight.”

Y/n shrugged. “Yeah, let’s try that.”

“And the weather is supposed to be cooler tonight, we can go on that long walk,” Hyde said.

She sighed and rubbed her aching neck. “Yeah, that works.”

“There’s a good Indian restaurant that serves the spiciest curry downtown,” Kitty said. “Let’s go there.”

“Uh, do I have to go?” Eric piped up. “Last time I had anything spicy, I sat on the toilet for three days.”

“Ew,” Hyde said and turned to his wife. “Look, I’m going to go look for those specific teas the doc told me about. Do you want anything else?”

“Yeah, just about everything on that list,” she responded. “Get the castor oil, some hot peppers, pineapples—”

“Should I just get the whole store?” Hyde asked.

“Yes please.”

Hyde nodded and kissed her head. “I’ll be back.”

As soon as he walked out the door, Y/n stood. “Well, I’ve got to pee again. I swear these damn kids think that my bladder is a squeeze toy.”

“She’s got to have those kids any day now,” Donna said once Y/n had waddled out the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s not like they’re trying,” said Kelso. “Hyde told me yesterday that she promised him that if she can give birth before Friday then he can go to the concert. Man, that must suck. Having an ol’ ball and chain telling you what to do.”

“Well, you’d never know since you’re too busy cheating on every girl you’ve ever dated,” Jackie snarked.

“Well, what do you say we make this interesting?” Kelso asked, ignoring Jackie’s comment.

“What do you mean?” Eric asked, tossing a Styrofoam football in the air. 

“I’ll bet you ten bucks she has the babies tomorrow,” he responded with a wide smirk.

“You’re on!” Jackie said excitedly and reached for her purse.

“Guys, I don’t feel right about this,” Donna said. “It’s not cool to bet on when our friend will go into labor.”

“Ugh, Donna,” Y/n called as she waddled down the stairs. “That candle you gave me smells horrible. Next time, maybe try getting me a candle that doesn’t smell like nature took a dump and forgot to flush.”

“It’s the smell of a forest!” she defended.

“Have you ever been to the forest?” Y/n said. “It doesn’t smell like that.”

Before she could let Donna respond, she waddled back upstairs. Once the door closed, Donna turned back to the group, annoyance written all over her face. “Make it twenty.”

                                                    --Later—

“Guys, I got some great news from the guidance counselor!” Eric announced as he ran into the living room where his family and Donna were sitting, watching TV.

“Yeah? What is it?” Red asked, turning down the volume on the TV.

“There's this program where you go and teach in an impoverished area for a year, and then they pay for your college. So, I signed up.”

“Eric, that’s wonderful!” Kitty cheered.

“That’s awesome!” Y/n joined in.

“See? I knew spending your college money would work out for the best,” Red said, smugly. “You're welcome.”

“So, where’s this impoverished place that you’re going to?” Steven asked.

“Is it east Milwaukee? You know I made a wrong turn there once and I ended up in this awful neighborhood,” Kitty said and lowered her voice as if anyone outside the living room could hear her. “They were playing radios on street corners!”

Eric shook his head. “No, I’m not going to east Milwaukee.”

“So, where then?” Donna asked.

Eric laid his hands out, palms up in excitement. “Its Africa.”

“Africa?!” Everyone said in shock.

“Africa, Wisconsin?” Kitty asked hopefully.

“No, Kitty, the country,” Red answered.

“You’re going to teach in Africa?” Y/n asked, her heart breaking. “So, does that mean you’re not going to be here when the babies are born?”

“No, no, I’ll still be here,” Eric said. “I’ll be leaving in August.”

“Oh,” she responded. “H-how long will you be gone?”

“About a year.”

“A YEAR?!” All three women shouted.

“What’s the big deal?” Eric asked, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“The big deal is you made this big decision without coming to me at all!” Donna shouted and stood from the couch and stormed out.

“See? Donna understands,” Kitty said while Eric sighed in defeat.

This isn’t how he was planning this go at all.

                                         --Later that evening--

“Joey?” Y/n asked her husband as they sat at the kitchen table, eating dinner.

Hyde shook his head. “Have a cousin named Joey. Last I heard he was being treated for VD and on his way to a halfway house.”

“Oookay,” Y/n said, going down the list of names in her book. “Victoria?”

“No.”

“Why not?!”

“Because my mom had a best friend named Victoria.” He paused to take a bite of his spicy food before going into deep thought. “Pretty sure at one point she was more than that.”

Y/n gave him a blank stared smile. “I’ll never be able to erase that image out of my mind.”

“How bout Jimmy?”

Y/n put down the book. “Why Jimmy?”

He shrugged and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I’ve just always liked that name.”

She squinted her eyes at him. “Since when?”

“I don’t know, a few years maybe.”

“Or maybe because it’s the name of the guitarist in Led Zepplin?”

Hyde pretended to be shocked. “Is that where that’s from? Wow, what are the odds?”

Y/n rolled her eyes at him. “Keep thinking, genius.”

“Eleanor?” he suggested.

“I’m sorry, am I giving birth to a seventy-five-year-old?” 

“What’s wrong with Eleanor?”

“I feel like I’d be giving birth to a Roosevelt. No, thank you.”

“We can call her Ellie for short,” he argued.

“Ellie Hyde?” she questioned.

“Let’s keep brainstorming,” he agreed and looked at her plate which she barely touched. “Why aren’t you eating your spicy curry? I added extra peppers for you.”

Y/n let out a sigh and put down her book. “It’s not working. Nothing is going to get these kids out.”

“You’ve barley taken a bite out of your food. Maybe if you eat half of it, you’ll actually go into labor.”

“If I eat anymore, I’ll be breathing out fire,” she deadpanned.

“Come on, it’s good. Try it,” he encouraged before taking a bite of her curry. It didn’t take long for the spices to set his mouth aflame. He started panting like a dog before desperately grabbing her glass of water and downing it like a man who hasn’t had water in days.

“Oh, my God,” he panted once the water was down. “How are you eating this?”

Y/n gave him an amused smile. “I’m about to push two human beings out of me, I think a hot mouth is the least of my worries.”

“Speaking of hot mouth, why don’t you and I go upstairs and try to get these babies here?” Hyde suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.

“C’mon, we’ve done it like a hundred times; clearly the babies aren’t coming,” she replied, defeated.

“You don’t know that,” he replied gently.

Y/n shook her head, defeated. “I guess these babies will come when they decide to.”

Steven looked at her before standing to his feet. “Come on. We’re going for a walk.”

                                            45 Minutes Later...

“I told you the walk wouldn’t work!” Y/n complained as they walked through the sliding door, picking out leaves and twigs from her hair.

“Well, it would’ve if you hadn’t tried to jump on me in the park!” Hyde argued as he looked down at the mud stains on his pants and shirt.

“I was trying to be romantic!”

“You’re trying to get these kids out of you so fast, you’re willing to knock us both over in a big puddle just for a quickie behind a bush!”

“How the hell was I supposed to know there was a deep mud puddle there?!” she yelled, prying her wet and muddy dress away from her thighs.

“Gee, I don’t know, maybe the fact that it RAINED earlier?” he yelled back.

“Ugh, you know what, I’m going to go shower. Don’t follow me!”

“What is going on?” Eric asked as he entered the kitchen with Donna. He took one look at the couple and started laughing. “What happened to you two?”

“Y/n thought it would be the perfect time to get romantic on a walk in the park to try to go into labor,” Steven replied, glaring at his wife who wasn’t even looking at him.

Eric scrunched up his nose at them. “Sorry I asked.”

“I’m going to go shower because the mud is started seal my butt cheeks together,” Y/n announced before waddling out the kitchen.

“Didn’t need to know that!” Eric cried out and turned back to Hyde. “So, are you guys going to keep trying?”

Hyde sighed frustratingly. “At this point, I don’t know. We’ve tried spicy foods, canola oil, sex…nothing is working. The long walk may have worked if she hadn’t cut it short.”

“Well, you know, maybe the babies will come tomorrow…or in a couple days…” Donna suggested and nonchalantly grabbed a soda from the fridge.

“I don’t know. I’m starting to think these kids are going to come closer to the concert and I just got to accept the fact that I’m not going to be able to make it.”

“What?! No, Hyde don’t say that,” Eric said. “You’re going to be able to have those babies and still go to the concert.”

“You know, Hyde, maybe you’re not doing this right,” Donna said and sat at the table. “Maybe, the babies will come tomorrow or Wednesday…”

Hyde squinted his eyes at her. “Why? Why tomorrow or Wednesday?”

She shook her head. “No reason!”

Hyde rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever. I’m going to shower as well. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Once he was out of earshot, Eric turned to Donna.

“Way to almost blow our cover!”

                                                         ---

Tuesday came and go with Y/n getting more miserable by the minute.

“It’s Tuesday night, she can still have the baby tonight!” Jackie argued.

“You had until 8pm. You can’t bend the rules now. Now pay up!” Donna chortled and held out her hand.

“Fine!” Jackie screeched and reached into her purse. “Here’s your stupid twenty bucks!”

“Thank you,” Donna said smugly and fanned her face with the two tens.

“Okay, double or nothing she has them by tomorrow,” Jackie said.

“I bet she’ll have them by Thursday,” Kelso said.

“I bet you’re all wrong,” Eric said. “I want to say she’ll have them by Sunday.”

“And I bet she’s losing six friends,” Markus piped up, disgusted at their behavior.

“Five,” Eric corrected. “She can’t lose me. I’m her brother after all.”

“I don’t think that’s going to make a difference,” Markus said.

“Markus, baby, shush,” Jackie said, tapping his leg. “We’re just having a little fun.”

“Fun?” he questioned. “You’re betting on your friend’s pain and misery! I don’t think she would classify this as fun.”

“She would if it was any one of us,” Eric pointed out.

“Only with you,” Donna chuckled. “She’s fine with the rest of us.” She looked up to Kelso who was mindlessly sucking on a popsicle. “Well, maybe Kelso too.”

He looked down at her, frowning, pausing with the popsicle still in his mouth. “Why me?”

“Because it’s so easy,” Fez added in, laughing. “Like you.”

                                                        ---

“That’s it, I give up!” Y/n said, exasperated three days later as she and her husband sat in the basement. “I’m done trying to get these kids to come out. They’ll come when they come.”

“No, don’t give up yet,” Eric said, faux-sympathetic.

“You just want them to be born so you can go to the concert,” she grumbled.

Eric’s gaze flicked to the rest of the group; Hyde staring at him suspiciously.

“Y-you can keep trying…even if it takes you to Sunday,” he said.

“Or Monday!” Jackie piped up. “I think you’ll go into labor then.”

“Nah, I’m saying Tuesday,” Fez said.

Y/n squinted her eyes at her friends. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Fez squeaked.

“Uh huh, and I’m calling bologna,” she said, eyes never leaving Fez’s nervous ones.

“Nothing you’ll be interested in,” Jackie said.

“Yeah? Try me.”

Everyone was silent, not daring to speak up, until—

“We’ve all been making a bet to see when you’ll go into labor!” Fez blurted out.

“FEZ!” Everyone shouted.

“What the hell?!” Eric shouted.

“Unbelievable!” Donna cried out.

“Big mouth!” Jackie chimed in.

“Traitor!” Kelso added.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t lie to her!” Fez said.

“But you can bet money on me?!” Y/n shouted. “I can’t believe you guys!”

“Yeah! How could you do this and not let me in on it?!” Hyde shouted.

Y/n snapped her head to him. “WHAT?!”

“C’mon, we’re both so miserable here, at least let’s make some money out of it,” he defended.

“Oh, yeah I’m sure all that sex has helped ease the pain,” Fez grumbled bitterly.

“Shut up, Fez,” Hyde demanded, making Fez pout and turn away.

“You know the worst part is you guys didn’t include me on this,” Y/n continued.

“What?” the group asked in unison.

“Well, like Steven said, if I’m going to be miserable, I might as well make some money!”

“Hey, you’re cooler about this than I thought you would,” Markus said.

“If I wasn’t pregnant and desperate to get these kids out, I wouldn’t be,” she said. “Now, tell me, how high is the bet?”

“Forty,” he responded casually.

“Forty?!” Y/n screeched. “C’mon I’m worth more than that!”

“It’s all I’ve got in my purse,” Jackie responded bitterly. “Unless you have more money.”

“I know Hyde does,” Kelso smirked.

Hyde glared at him. “Drop it before I drop you.”

                                          The Next Day…

“C’mon, babies, just stay in there until after tonight,” Eric encouraged, talking to his sister’s belly.

“You know that’s not how that works,” she responded, laughing at him.

“They can still hear right? Maybe they will listen.”

“Yeah, in your dreams, Forman,” Hyde said as he sat next to his wife on the couch.

“Come on, babies, if you wait to come out and let Daddy go to the concert with Uncle Eric, I promise I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle. “I don’t think they’re coming out anytime soon. You guys can go to the concert tonight, it’s fine.”

“YES!” Eric cheered.

“You sure?” Hyde asked genuinely and turned to her. “What if you go into labor while I’m gone?”

“I still have my parents here and Markus said he’ll be a phone call away if I need him,” she reassured him.

Hyde made a face at her. “I don’t know how I feel about this new guy helping you.”

“Would you rather it be Fez or Kelso?”

He smacked his lips in thought. “Good point.”

“Besides, I think it’ll be nice to just be me tonight,” she continued. “I can finally start that book I’ve wanting to read.”

“Vogue Magazine isn’t a book,” Eric reminded.

“Neither are comics,” she snapped back.

“Then why are they called comic books?” he shot back.

Y/n sighed. “Either way, I’m looking forward to finally getting some alone time.”

“As long you’re okay with it. And I won’t be out long,” Hyde promised.

“Okay,” Y/n said, smiling at him and kissed him. “I’m going to go take a nap. Wake me up before you leave.”

Hyde nodded as he helped her off the couch. Just as she did, she clutched her stomach, hissing sharply.

“Oh!” she yelped, bending over.

“Oh, my God! Y/n!” Hyde reacted quickly, reaching for her so she didn’t stumble forward.

“Y/n, are you okay?!” Eric asked her with wide eyes.

“Yeah, just kidding,” she giggled and walked upstairs.

The two young men let out a breath of relief and glared at her as she walked up the stairs.

“Sometimes, I really, really don’t like her,” Eric griped.

                                             --Time Skip—

“Y/n, I’m leaving!” Steven said as he gathered his wallet, keys, and tickets together.

“I’m coming,” she called out as she waddled down the stairs.

He met her at the bottom of the stairs and placed his hands on her hips, leaning down to kiss her. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“More than,” she said, grinning. “You go and have a great time, okay?”

“I will. I left the number for you on the counter to the venue in case anything happens.”

“Look at you, being all worried and responsible,” she teased.

He chuckled and kissed her gently. “I love you. I’m serious—call.”

“I will,” she said and hugged him. “I love you. Have fun.”

“Will you stop making out with my sister and get in the car?” Eric asked impatiently. “Led Zepplin isn’t going to wait for us.”

“Shut up, Forman,” Hyde said and turned to Y/n once more. “Try to not have those babies until I get back.”

“I will definitely try,” she replied sweetly before giving him one more kiss. “Now, go. Enjoy the concert. Oh! Wait there for a moment.” She ran back to the kitchen before returning to the front door with a camera in her hand. “Take some pictures for me.”

Hyde held the large polaroid camera in his hand and looked at his wife. “You want me to take pictures the whole time?”

She nodded innocently. “Yeah!”

“No,” he deadpanned and set the camera on the couch.

“What? Why?!”

“I’m going to be busy rocking and rolling, not taking pictures of the band.”

“Steven, please! Just because I can’t be there doesn’t mean I don’t want pictures!”

“Yeah, that’s a lot of pictures that I don’t want to take and have to keep track of. No, thanks.”

“Why’re you being so stubborn?”

“Hey, if you wanted to see Led Zepplin, you should be going,” Eric piped up from behind them.

“You literally bought tickets for everyone but me,” she snipped.

“Correction: I bought them for me, you, Hyde, and Donna. Kelso bought tickets for him and Hyde,”

“But…Jackie’s not going, what're you doing with that extra ticket?” Y/n inquired.

“Yeah…he thought he was going to be able to score with her, but then she met Markus and quite frankly, I think Kelso is afraid of him. So, he’s bringing Fez,” Eric answered.

“I’m not even going to question that,” she said and turned back to her husband. “You be careful and have fun. But not too much fun!”

“Alright, cool, let’s go!” Eric pushed and shoved Hyde out the door.

“What the hell, man?” Hyde asked outside the door.

“We still have to pick up Kelso and Fez and I’d rather not be later because you couldn’t stop being mushy with my sister,” Eric responded and closed the door before Y/n could hear what Hyde had to say.

Y/n looked down to her stomach and held it between her hands. “Well, guys, it looks like it’s just us. What do you guys want to do? We can watch TV, read a book…eat a tub of ice cream?” A kick to the stomach confirmed her question. “Ice cream it is!”

                                         Later that night…

Y/n sat on the couch in the living room watching a rerun of Three’s Company when the doorbell rang. When she answered the door, Jackie and Markus stood there.

“What’re you guys doing here?” Y/n asked them.

“Well, we know you’re by yourself tonight so we figured you’d like some company,” Markus said with a bright smile and held up a Fatso Burger bag. “We also brought food.”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it that nicely, but yeah same,” Jackie said and welcomed herself in.

“Oh, uh, well thanks,” Y/n said and closed the door. “You guys don’t have to be here. My parents are home and if anything happens, they’ll be here.”

“Nonsense. We’re your friends,” Markus said and sat down on the couch. “Besides, we figured you were hungry.”

“Always,” Y/n said and waddled over to the couch. “This was really nice of you. Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Markus said, smiling and handing her a wrapped burger. “What’re we watching?”

“Three’s Company. It’s the one where Chrissy takes a freelance job as an X-rated writer for a fictional diary,” Y/n responded, watching the screen.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” Jackie said, digging into her fries.

After they had finished their meals and the episode ended, another one was starting soon as they all had settled back into the couch.

“No, no, no that’s ridiculous,” Markus argued. “Why would Doc Ock be Spider-Man’s greatest enemy? It’s always been Green Goblin!”

“The Green Goblin is Peter’s most famous enemy, but it makes sense that his greatest enemy is Doc Ock because think about it: Your mentor and friend turning bad? Can you imagine the betrayal?” Y/n countered.

“But Green Goblin was his best friend’s dad! That also has to mean something! Then, once his dad died, his best friend became the Green Goblin!”

“Yeah, that would mean something if Harry hadn’t tried to kill Peter first!”

“To be fair, Harry didn’t know about Spider-Man’s identity until later.”

“And to be fair, this conversation is killing me,” Jackie piped up, bored.

“Yeah, but—” Y/n was cut off by an abrupt sharp pain down in her lower abdomen. Her hands flew to her stomach and held her breath as the pain radiated and quickly subsided. She let out a sigh of relief.

Markus and Jackie sat up straight as Markus’s hands hovered over Y/n. “A-are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Y/n responded, breathlessly. “That was weird. Anyway, as I was saying—OH!”

Another sharp pain reared its ugly head, radiating through her pelvis to her back and down her legs. “Oh, my God!” Her grip on the couch tightened, knuckles turning white. She could feel her abdomen tighten rock-hard as she felt the pain become more intense.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” Jackie asked.

Y/n couldn’t respond and could only whimper.

“Oh, my God,” Markus said, panicking and jumped from the couch. “Oh, my God! Not now!”

All Y/n could do was shake her head as the pain was starting to subside to the point where she could get some words out. “No, no, it can’t be. It can take a while for the babies to get here. It could just be the beginning stages.”

“The beginning stages of what?” Jackie asked.

Markus looked at her with a panicked and wild look in his eyes. “Are you serious?!”

“What?!” she asked, matching his energy.

“She’s in labor, Jackie!”

“Oh,” Jackie said calmly, but then it hit her. “OH!”

“We need to get you to the hospital,” Markus said, rushing to get her up from the couch.

“That’s not necessary,” Y/n said, another sharp pressure coming on as she stood. “The book said contractions need to be five to ten minutes apart before going to the hospital. Labor can take a while.”

Markus sighed a small breath of relief before looking down and his eyes widening. “And what does the book say about that?”

Y/n looked down on the floor at her feet as she felt some wetness.

                                          Her water had broke.

Taglist: @not-shy-nanya @taysirene @maddieschampagneproblems @mdittyz123 @undead-sierra @random-thoughts-004 @lieswithoutfairytales @chloem4a1 @srhxpc @zhonglibxitch @leothesquishy

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Snow Day Part 2

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: none for this part either :)

Pairings: logince

Word Count: 5462

Unknown number: Roman, this is Logan. Are you free the evening of the 15th?

Roman blinks at his phone.

Me: How did you get my number?

Logan: I asked Patton. You do remember that we work together, yes?

Me: Yeah i remember but why did you want my number

Logan: To ask if you're free on the 15th, for starters.

Me: i think so, why?

Logan: The firm is throwing a holiday party and I've been instructed to bring someone who, quote: 'Won't cause a disruption but will add to the seasonal atmosphere.'

Me: is this supposed to be a compliment? also what kind of invitation says that?

Logan: I've certainly never met anyone as determined to preserve the holiday spirit as you. And no, that was a special instruction from my boss.

Me: still don't know if that's a compliment

Logan: Take it as you like. The dress code is black tie, so no terrible sweaters for you.

Me: i can't do that

Logan: Surely the holiday will survive if you're not in a hideous sweater for one evening

Me: no i don't have anything to wear to a black tie thing

His phone is silent for a long time and Roman's…fine about that. He was gonna enjoy that evening off, actually. Watch some of his favorite Christmas movies, listen to his favorite album, maybe actually get around to baking himself that thing he wanted to try ages ago…

Then his phone buzzes again. He picks it up and blinks to see an address.

Logan: Meet me here at 9 tomorrow.

Me: why?

Logan: To find you something appropriate to wear, of course.

Me: Logan, you don't need to do that.

Logan: I'm aware. 9 on the dot, don't be late.

Well.

Okay.

He's going shopping with Logan tomorrow, apparently. He also definitely needs to ask Patton why the hell he gave Logan his number.

At 8:55 the next morning, he's standing outside one of those department stores that just feels like it's the setting of some cliché rich person montage. He'd picked out a loose-fitting tee and a pair of decent sweatpants because, you know, shopping typically involves trying things on, but now he's wondering if he should've put on his nice slacks and a button down because holy shit does he feel underdressed right now.

"Ah, good. You are on time."

And sure enough, here comes Logan in his goddamned suit. Does the man own casual clothes? Logan gives him another look up and down and no, Roman doesn't imagine the way his nose turns up ever so slightly before fixing him with a stern expression.

"Am I right in thinking you don't have much experience buying formal wear?"

"Not for a black tie event, no."

"Lovely," he says, tone indicating this is anything but, "I expect you to pay attention."

"Logan," he says quickly before Logan can actually make it to the door, "I can't—I can't afford anything here."

"Don't worry, I'll pay."

"You'll—what?"

"I said I'll pay for it, Roman, now come on—"

"Why would you do that?"

"Aside from the fact that you've just said you can't afford it?"

"You don't—" Roman pinches the bridge of his nose— "look, I don't know what game this is or what point you're trying to prove, but it's not—I don't need your charity, okay?"

"It's not charity, Roman. Every man should have at least three well-fitting suits."

"Three? It's one night, Logan, I'm not—I can't do this."

Logan's looking at him strangely, like he's the one being weird about this—which he's not, he's being very reasonably suspicious and Logan shouldn't be looking at him like that—before he turns on his heel and heads down the block. After a moment of realizing that Roman's not walking with him, he reaches back and tucks his hand into the crook of Roman's arm the way he did at the party, which Roman still isn't thinking about, thank you very much, leading him around the corner to a coffee shop that also looks too expensive. He holds his tongue this time, resigning himself to whatever it is Logan's decided they're doing, taking the cup pushed into his hand and following Logan back outside.

Logan leads them to a bench in a more secluded area of the street, sitting down and nodding for Roman to sit next to him. "What's making you uncomfortable?"

Roman scoffs, but then Logan furrows his brow and…shit, he's actually being sincere. He swallows. "Aside from the fact that everyone in there looks like they're wearing my rent?"

"They're only clothes, Roman."

He doesn't register the surprisingly gentle tone Logan's using. "They're not just clothes, they're—they're—I don't belong in that world, Logan. I'm not gonna try to force myself into it."

"What world?"

"The world where I can spent rent on a suit and have that be fine. The world where people are that rich and that—that—" he suddenly remembers that Logan is one of said rich people, or at least is acting like it right now— "I just can't do it."

Logan's quiet for a moment, still just looking at him. Roman looks away, sipping at his coffee. Shit, it's good coffee too. Logan's probably thinking about how much of a waste of time this was, and he wasted his time the other day with buying the gifts too…and now with the whole party thing, maybe it's better to just leave.

That's not very seasonally gracious of you.

The memory of Logan's voice in his head shocks him into realizing how much of a dick he's being. Logan's doing this—presumably—out of the goodness of his heart, or at the very least he's not expecting Roman to pay him back or anything. And here Roman is, practically throwing a tantrum about it.

"Sorry," he says quietly, bowing his head, "I'm being an asshole, aren't I?"

"Being uncomfortable doesn't make you an asshole, Roman."

"Yeah, but…"

"No buts. I'd rather you tell me than suffer through it." The sincerity in his tone makes him look up again to see Logan still watching him. "What is it about it that's making it worse? Is it the money? I really don't mind paying for you. At the risk of sounding, well, like that, it's not that big of a deal to me."

He's gonna put that aside for now, yeah. "I just—I know how those people look at me."

"And how is that?"

He scuffs his toe through some of the salt congealing under the bench. "Like I'm not supposed to be there. Like I have the gall to be in the same room as them, or like I don't exist. I don't like it."

There's a pause. Then: "Do you think that's how I look at you?"

His head jerks over. Logan's hands are still around the coffee cup, but there's a bit of tension in them now. He adjusts his glasses even though there's really no need for it. He swallows.

"I don't…I really don't know how you look at me, Logan," he admits, "I thought that's what you were doing at first, but it's…I don't know, okay? Is that what you want to hear?"

"I'm not your enemy, Roman," he says with an unmistakable hurt that makes Roman want to throw up, "nor am I interrogating you."

"I know, I'm sorry. I…I didn't mean it like that."

Logan just looks at him for a few more seconds. He fidgets under it and looks away.

"Why're you doing this," he asks quietly, "surely there's an easier way to get around your boss's instructions?"

Another long pause. A car drives by and nearly splashes them with gray sludge. A dog barks at a pigeon taking flight.

"You're the first person who's successfully gotten me to buy actual presents for my family in almost ten years," Logan says suddenly, "and you managed it on the second time we'd ever met."

Hold on, Roman was what? He did what, now?

"And I thought about how my family would react to those presents and I found myself actually getting excited about it," he continues, like he isn't blowing Roman's mind right now, "so…perhaps there's something to this whole gift-giving, caring thing people like to peddle this time of year."

"They do say Christmas is the joy of giving."

"Quite, but I have no interest in making you out to be a charity case."

"You don't?"

Logan shakes his head. "No. If anything, this is my reward for myself. A selfish act to balance out the selfless one."

Roman frowns. "You…buying me a suit is you being selfish?"

A familiarly smug smirk curls up Logan's face and Roman will deny the way he swallows when he sees it until the day he dies. "No, me inviting the one person I'm genuinely fascinated by to an otherwise boring event of schmoozing and networking is the selfish act. The suit, well…aside from the fact that it is a crime that you've never been properly fitted for a suit before—"

"Hey! Again, not all of us are going to galas all the time!"

"—you managed to captivate me in a cheap sweater and worn jeans," Logan continues as if he hadn't spoken, voice suddenly a lot, lot lower, "and I can hardly pass up the opportunity to see you in something better."

Roman does not squeak. He does not turn bright pink, he does not shuffle like a schoolboy, he does not go all wide-eyed like some little fawn caught in the jaws of the Big Bad Wolf. He doesn't do any of those things because there's no way Logan just said that to him like it was nothing in the middle of the day while they're in public.

Logan's smirk just grows.

"You what?"

"Come, now, there's no need to be shy. You certainly have a healthy appreciation for my suits—" goddamnit— "can you truly begrudge me for having the same interest?"

"I—that's not—I didn't—shut up!"

He just chuckles, like an asshole, as Roman hides his splutter behind another sip of coffee. Thank God he's wearing a hat so Logan can't see how red his ears are right now.

"I don't need three suits," he manages with a remarkably steady voice, "not if the party's just one night."

"You never know, you might have the chance to attend another in the future."

Nope. Not thinking about that. Absolutely not, no, thank you. "I think sticking with just the one is fine for me right now."

"Very well." Logan stands with a swish of his coat. "One suit it is."

It takes until Logan's halfway down the block that Roman realizes he's been tricked into agreeing to let Logan pay for a suit, and the bastard doesn't even look sorry about it when Roman hollers after him.

Dick.

Of course, as soon as they get inside, part of him wants to leave immediately, but then Logan's hand is curling around his arm and he swallows, letting himself be guided across the sales floor to a section with a lot of black and navy fabric. He stares at the racks with what must be some form of abject terror because Logan's chuckling at him and leaning close.

"Don't worry, I'm not about to leave you on your own."

"You'd better not," he shoots back, but his voice comes out all high and thready.

Logan waves over a sales associate who's dressed better than Roman's ever been in his entire life and explains that Roman needs a suit. At least that's what he assumes just happened. In reality, there's a dull buzz in his head right now that's making it hard to focus on anything other than staying upright, not having a panic attack, and on the warmth of Logan's hand holding onto his arm through his coat. He does notice the associate eyeing his clothes a little disdainfully and quickly forces out: "Easier to change."

"Ah, how sensible. If only all of our clients were as considerate. Now, what sort of styles do you like?"

"I have absolutely no idea and I'm mostly scared to touch anything."

Both of them laugh and somehow manage to do it without sounding mean. "Do not worry, nothing in here bites, I assure you."

Roman can't help the way his gaze darts to Logan. Logan, because he is apparently determined to kill Roman today, winks at him.

"You're not helping," he hisses as the associate turns to pull something from a nearby rack.

"I don't recall promising to help, only that I wouldn't leave you alone."

"You're buying me another hot chocolate after this."

He does, and it's way too expensive and it tastes way too good and he wants to be mad about it and the garment bag he has to haul home, but then Logan's threatening to get him a cab as well and he high-tails it out of there before he makes good on it.

When he gets home, he just sort of…stands there for a moment, looking at the bag. In a daze, he reaches up and traces the emblem of the store embroidered into the black fabric. This is his suit. He actually owns it, it's made for him, it's something that he just has now. And yeah, maybe Logan was right: more than a small part of him is dancing at the idea of such a thing.

Before he can tell it to stop, that part of him whirls him through a set of doors and he's picturing himself in a grand ballroom with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, music overflowing into the gardens, the balconies, as it should for any spectacular party. With this suit, he belongs there, just as much as anyone else, amidst the swirling skirts and glittering tidings, where he could stand on his own and be welcome, celebrated, even, as much as anyone else. Where a hand might extend to him and mean it, where he could look up at Logan's face and smile, and not have to worry that a kiss would be refused—

The garment bag hits the floor with a crumpled thud.

Roman blinks rapidly, giving himself a good shake. What the hell was that? How did Logan manage to sneak in there? What's that got to do with—

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no.

No, no, no—no, shit, he is not doing this again. He knows better now, he's not that young or naive or stupid anymore, he is not getting caught up in some ridiculous thing that will only end with his heart in pieces on the floor and a wobbling smile on his face. He is not going to start doing that.

With a muffled groan, he snags the bag off the floor and stomps to the closet, hanging it up and shoving the door closed again. This is stupid. This is the third time he's met Logan, there's no reason for him to be doing this. Even if by some Christmas miracle Logan doesn't find out about this—because Roman wears his heart on his sleeve and Logan keeps doing that thing where he sees him—his traitor of a heart flutters again and he shoves a pin through its wings—he's still going to have to look at him at this stupid party and—and—

And his mind flashes back to that little bit of hurt he'd heard in Logan's voice when he asked if Roman thought he looked at him the way all those fucking rich people do. He swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. Would Logan look at him the same way now, knowing he was assuming the worst of him?

No, no, that's not right. Accurately predicting the rejection of his sudden and really very stupid feelings was not assuming the worst of him. If anything, Logan might complement him on his very mature and reasonable handling of unrequited emotions. Yeah, that was it. He just has to be an adult about this, the way everyone else has said the same thing his entire life. It's a good thing he realized these feelings now, actually, and not at the party where there will be other people and he'll be in that suit and Logan will be there too, because he's invited Roman of all people, going so far as to make sure he has something to wear…

He snaps himself out of it, almost glaring at the closet door. No. Not doing that. He's just going to go to this party as Logan's friend, spend the time being there the way a friend would, and not think about what would happen if Logan had asked him there as more than a friend.

He can do this.

***

4.

He can't do this.

He's been standing outside the lobby of this big slab of glass and steel in the middle of downtown for about ten minutes now and he has no idea of how to move forward. He's on the list, he knows, because Logan sent him a confirmation email yesterday, so he doesn't have to wait here for someone else to show up and let him in, he definitely doesn't have to wait for Logan to show up so they can go inside, but here he is. Loitering. He's pretty sure it's only because of the suit that the front desk person hasn't called the cops or whatever.

"You've truly a wonderful sense of timing."

He whirls around to see Logan getting out of a sleek black town car. His mouth goes dry a little at the sight and he'll deny it forever. Take the fifth, or whichever amendment is the one that means you don't have to say shit. Logan's smirking at him by the time they're standing next to each other, though, so he's pretty sure he has some idea of what's running through his head.

"Hey," he croaks, clearing his throat, "thought about going in, but then I realized I'd have no idea of where I'm going."

"They could've told you."

Don't bring your logic here while I'm having a crisis. "Yeah, well, isn't it bad form to show up separately from the person who invited you?"

Logan gives him that look like he's being nice to him by letting it go—and hey, he is a lawyer, maybe that counts as being nice—and takes his elbow. "Come on, then. We're getting dangerously close to being disastrously late instead of fashionably late."

They walk through the door and Logan waves a card at the person behind the desk—ID badge, Roman's brain supplies helpfully. The elevator is just a normal elevator, thank God, but then it opens onto a floor of way too many people in expensive clothing and more of that pretentious not-Christmas music and it's all he can do not to immediately slam the 'down' button again.

"Relax," Logan says quietly, "it's just a party."

"Easy for you to say, you work here."

"Actually, that makes it worse for me: I have to see these people again after tonight."

A somewhat hysterical giggle bubbles up in Roman's throat but he steps out of the elevator all the same. There's a large booth off to one side where racks have been set up for people's coats, two smartly-dressed people manning a small desk. Logan walks up and passes over his coat without hesitating, which means Roman has to hustle a little bit to not get left behind in the crowd.

"So, what're we supposed to do?"

"Mingle," Logan sighs, like he's just been asked to hold up the heavens, "I am responsible for following up with a few of our more…anxious clients, but you just have to walk around and look pretty."

Roman snags an offered glass of champagne and downs about half of it in one go to avoid thinking about that too much. Logan just chuckles and starts leading his way through the masses, Roman trudging along behind him.

The first set of people they come across must be other people Logan works with on a regular basis; they react like Logan's the cool kid coming to join them at the lunch table when he strolls closer, one of them giving him a slap on the shoulder and the others raising their glasses in toast. A change comes over him, growing taller and sleeker as Roman watches before he realizes hey, this is probably one of those things Logan wants him to talk at. Sure enough, as he approaches, one of them spots him over Logan's shoulder.

"Is this the lucky man with you tonight?"

"Yes," Logan says, turning and extending a hand to gather Roman in close, "this is Roman. Roman, these are some of the insufferable colleagues I mentioned before."

"Hello, nice to meet you."

"Look, Logan, someone with manners," a woman says, dark eyes flashing over the rim of her glass, "you could learn something from him."

"You must be the one that threatened to stab him if he didn't get the right presents," he says, without thinking, only for the others to burst out laughing. The woman just grins.

"That would be me, yes." She holds out her hand. "Ava Nath. Pleasure to suffer through knowing Logan along with you."

"Roman."

"Claws to yourself, Ava," Logan says lowly and fuck, Logan being all weirdly possessive around his friends—are they friends? Roman's really gonna hope they're friends—is doing things to Roman.

"How'd you manage to meet this one, Roman?" asks another man, nudging Logan with his elbow. "Can't have been through work, otherwise we'd've warned you away ages ago."

Roman swallows another mouthful of champagne. "Mutual friend."

"Oh? Which friend would that be?"

"You guys realize we're not in a court room, right? You don't have to interrogate me if you don't want to."

Again, thank God they took that as a joke, laughing again even as Logan's hand lands warmly on his upper back. The man waves his hand in a gesture of surrender. "Sorry. Ask anyone here, it's hard to turn off."

"No, it's fine, I…should've expected it. I'm friends with Patton, that's how we met."

"Patton…from down on the 16th floor, yes. Sweet guy. Makes sense." He gives himself a shake. "Here I am forgetting my manners too. Scott Kensington, pleased to meet you."

Roman shakes his hand. Logan's hand is still on his back, thumb slightly stroking the material of suit. He should not be paying attention to that, he should be paying attention to the conversation.

He takes another gulp.

"Well, you just got here, so you've still got your rounds to do."

Logan groans. "Don't remind me. Just tell me that Forstby isn't here yet."

"Oh, God, no, he'll probably stumble in about an hour from now."

"Small mercies. Well, it was lovely catching up with you, but I'm afraid we're needed elsewhere. Roman?"

"Yep, I'm coming."

"Pleasure meeting you," Ava calls as he's ushered away, "come back when you're done!"

"Will we be doing that?"

Logan rolls his eyes. "If we must. Come on, now, we've more hands to shake."

It turns out that meeting people in rapid succession is not a good way for him to remember names, or faces, instead he just gets more and more through this glass of champagne with a pasted-on smile and a few comments he doesn't think about that thankfully just make everyone else laugh. He's pretty sure Logan can tell, though, judging by the way his hand never leaves his back or his shoulder for longer than about ten seconds at a time. He'd like to resent him for that. He really would. He'd also like to resent him for feeding the fantasy Roman's brain has been helpfully pushing at him all night but he's ignoring that one like a champ.

They end up in a conversation with one of the firm's clients, not that he really knows what that means—okay, no, he does know what that means, he just doesn't know what he's supposed to do about it. The couple is a striking older duo, a man with ginger hair flecked with salt and pepper, as is his beard, introducing himself as Ben, and a stunning blonde woman with high cheekbones and a piercing green stare who tells him call me Sadie. They'd both spoken warmly to Logan upon seeing him, gathering him in for a hug—which he hadn't been shocked by, nope, not at all—before turning to Roman. He'd stumbled his way through an intro, belatedly offering his hand, only for them to…well, basically coo at how adorable he is. He minds a little less than he'd thought. They explain how they met through a mutual friend again and the three of them have been talking about something business related ever since. Which means Roman can just nod in the right places, laugh in the right places, and not think about anything else.

Nope.

Not at all.

"But that's enough business talk," Ben sighs, "this is supposed to be a party."

"That doesn't typically stop you," Sadie says, to which Ben huffs and she turns her smile to Roman. "Forgive us."

"Nothing to forgive, I get it."

"I suppose we have you to thank for this evening?"

"Uh, what? Sorry, I, um…how so?"

"Come now, there's no need to be coy about it. We all know Logan's a bit of a Grinch when it comes to the holidays," Ben says with a wink at Logan.

"If being practical makes me a Grinch, then yes, I suppose so."

"See what I mean?"

"We weren't sure he was even going to be here," Sadie continues, "so I presume I have you to thank for getting him in the spirit?"

Which…is not how Roman thought this worked out. Logan told him about the party, told him he needed a guest to bring, like it was a mandatory work thing that he had to go to. Not…what he's currently being told. But before he can say that, or something to that effect, Logan's rolling his eyes again. Seriously, the man puts in a full eyeball workout every hour, it looks like.

"Ava's already declared her allegiance for him after learning he helped me with gift-getting, I don't need you two doing the same."

"You, willingly buying presents that aren't run-of-the-mill?" Ben says. "You are a miracle worker, Roman."

"It wasn't that big of a deal."

"It was," Logan corrects gently, looking at him with actual affection, "and I don't believe I ever properly thanked you for it, so thank you."

"Um…you're welcome?"

Sadie laughs. "Next thing you know, you'll be throwing your own Christmas party."

Roman laughs along with her. The idea of cynical, practical Logan throwing a Christmas party will do that. He can just imagine Logan's face at the idea too—

"I've actually been considering it."

He knows his head is not the only one that snaps around to stare when Logan says that. Ben recovers first, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Not this, obviously," Logan continues, gesturing about, "but something with a few friends, certainly."

"Will wonders never cease…I never thought I'd see the day where you willingly get into the festive spirit."

"What can I say? It's that time of year."

"It certainly is," Sadie says, her gaze sliding far too neatly to Roman for a little too long. "Well, I hope that if you do deign to throw such a party, the two of us will be invited?"

"Naturally."

And then there are polite excuses being made as to why everyone has to be elsewhere and they're back to mingling again. Roman's brain is still stuck on the idea of Logan at a Christmas party. An actual Christmas party, where there's cheap alcohol and shitty music and terrible sweaters. He manages to get through a few more brief conversations before he's mumbling to Logan about needing a break and wandering off in search of the nearest window.

He manages to find one far enough away from the pounding music—and open bar—but close enough that Logan won't have to look around forever to find him. He leans against the edge, watching the snow drift between the skyscrapers. Absentmindedly, he tugs at his collar, as if it could get his mind away from the thoughts still swirling around and around his brain.

This is going fine. This is going great, even. It's just like what he normally does at parties: socialize for a little bit, find and hang on to the people he actually knows, and then find a quiet corner to just be by himself. He didn't even check to see if Patton would be here—no, no, Patton's with his partner now, he left last week. Well, that makes it only Logan that he knows here, not counting the few people whose names he's managed to remember.

That's fine too. Completely, totally fine. Absolutely nothing to worry about.

He takes another drink and finds the glass empty. Well, sallying forth to try and procure another one sounds like a bad idea, so he's just gonna have to deal with it.

"You," comes an amused voice from behind him, "are far too sober to be looking so worried."

He huffs a laugh, turning to see Logan holding out a fresh glass of…something that definitely isn't champagne. He takes it, eyes it warily, and at Logan's pointed stare, takes a sip. He doesn't cough, because he's not that bad at this, but he does make quite the face.

"You'd think I just handed you a glass of cyanide, it's just whisky, there's no need for all of that."

"Don't think it's quite to my taste." But he's also not in the habit of refusing a drink, so he tries another sip. This time he lets it sit on his tongue for a few moments before swallowing and it's…mildly better. "Thanks."

"I felt obligated to do a morale check." Logan glances over his shoulder. "The wolves haven't torn you to shreds yet, have they?"

"I thought sharks were the lawyer metaphor animal."

"Both suffice in their own ways. Both have a reputation for being particularly ruthless or determined, an association with chasing bloodshed. Keen senses, for noticing when someone's deflecting."

"Yeah, yeah, we get it," he grumbles, "I'm fine. Just…needed a minute."

"No one's looking at you funny, are they?"

He's about to give Logan a hard time for teasing him about something that he knows is a sore spot, he made his point already, but when he looks up, Logan's looking at him with a small furrow between his brows and the retort shrivels up. He shakes his head. Logan's shoulders relax.

"Good."

"Ava and Scott seemed cool. So did Ben and Sadie."

Logan hums, still watching him. He shuffles under it.

"What?"

"Is there something else bothering you? You seem upset still."

"I'm fine, really, just…not used to all of this," he finishes, somewhat lamely, "most of the parties I go to are more low-key. You know, bunch of people in a house, food, drink…that's it. Kind of like what you were describing."

"I hope you know that you'd be invited too."

"R-really?" He can't help the slight laugh of disbelief. "But we barely know each other."

"And yet, you're the only one who's managed to convince me that there might be something to all this holiday nonsense. You think I'd do something festive and not make you suffer through it with me?"

"See, you say there might be something to it, then you call it nonsense that you have to suffer through."

"Just because there's something redeeming about it doesn't mean I suddenly have to enjoy it."

"You really are a lawyer."

Logan laughs at that, a proper laugh, and that's just fucking unfair that he's a gorgeous bastard when he laughs too. He shakes his head, and Roman quickly looks back out the window. Nope. Not thinking about it. Not thinking about anything at all. No thoughts, head empty, that's him.

"You would come, though."

"Huh?"

"If I did have a party. You would come?"

"Of course I would," he says before his brain catches up to what he's saying and realizes that…yes, he actually would. He'd be happy to. "Just let me know when and where."

Logan smiles. Then it fades slightly, and Roman stands up a little more, about to ask what's wrong. His mouth opens and that, of course, is when someone comes up to talk to Logan and the moment's gone almost as quickly as it came.

"I have to go," Logan says, "don't run off this time, would you?"

"I'll be here."

Logan touches his arm again and turns, touch lingering just a bit on the edge of his bare wrist and Roman takes a huge gulp of the whisky.

Shit.

Unknown number: Roman, this is Logan. Are you free the evening of the 15th?

Roman blinks at his phone.

Me: How did you get my number?

Logan: I asked Patton. You do remember that we work together, yes?

Me: Yeah i remember but why did you want my number

Logan: To ask if you're free on the 15th, for starters.

Me: i think so, why?

Logan: The firm is throwing a holiday party and I've been instructed to bring someone who, quote: 'Won't cause a disruption but will add to the seasonal atmosphere.'

Me: is this supposed to be a compliment? also what kind of invitation says that?

Logan: I've certainly never met anyone as determined to preserve the holiday spirit as you. And no, that was a special instruction from my boss.

Me: still don't know if that's a compliment

Logan: Take it as you like. The dress code is black tie, so no terrible sweaters for you.

Me: i can't do that

Logan: Surely the holiday will survive if you're not in a hideous sweater for one evening

Me: no i don't have anything to wear to a black tie thing

His phone is silent for a long time and Roman's…fine about that. He was gonna enjoy that evening off, actually. Watch some of his favorite Christmas movies, listen to his favorite album, maybe actually get around to baking himself that thing he wanted to try ages ago…

Then his phone buzzes again. He picks it up and blinks to see an address.

Logan: Meet me here at 9 tomorrow.

Me: why?

Logan: To find you something appropriate to wear, of course.

Me: Logan, you don't need to do that.

Logan: I'm aware. 9 on the dot, don't be late.

Well.

Okay.

He's going shopping with Logan tomorrow, apparently. He also definitely needs to ask Patton why the hell he gave Logan his number.

At 8:55 the next morning, he's standing outside one of those department stores that just feels like it's the setting of some cliché rich person montage. He'd picked out a loose-fitting tee and a pair of decent sweatpants because, you know, shopping typically involves trying things on, but now he's wondering if he should've put on his nice slacks and a button down because holy shit does he feel underdressed right now.

"Ah, good. You are on time."

And sure enough, here comes Logan in his goddamned suit. Does the man own casual clothes? Logan gives him another look up and down and no, Roman doesn't imagine the way his nose turns up ever so slightly before fixing him with a stern expression.

"Am I right in thinking you don't have much experience buying formal wear?"

"Not for a black tie event, no."

"Lovely," he says, tone indicating this is anything but, "I expect you to pay attention."

"Logan," he says quickly before Logan can actually make it to the door, "I can't—I can't afford anything here."

"Don't worry, I'll pay."

"You'll—what?"

"I said I'll pay for it, Roman, now come on—"

"Why would you do that?"

"Aside from the fact that you've just said you can't afford it?"

"You don't—" Roman pinches the bridge of his nose— "look, I don't know what game this is or what point you're trying to prove, but it's not—I don't need your charity, okay?"

"It's not charity, Roman. Every man should have at least three well-fitting suits."

"Three? It's one night, Logan, I'm not—I can't do this."

Logan's looking at him strangely, like he's the one being weird about this—which he's not, he's being very reasonably suspicious and Logan shouldn't be looking at him like that—before he turns on his heel and heads down the block. After a moment of realizing that Roman's not walking with him, he reaches back and tucks his hand into the crook of Roman's arm the way he did at the party, which Roman still isn't thinking about, thank you very much, leading him around the corner to a coffee shop that also looks too expensive. He holds his tongue this time, resigning himself to whatever it is Logan's decided they're doing, taking the cup pushed into his hand and following Logan back outside.

Logan leads them to a bench in a more secluded area of the street, sitting down and nodding for Roman to sit next to him. "What's making you uncomfortable?"

Roman scoffs, but then Logan furrows his brow and…shit, he's actually being sincere. He swallows. "Aside from the fact that everyone in there looks like they're wearing my rent?"

"They're only clothes, Roman."

He doesn't register the surprisingly gentle tone Logan's using. "They're not just clothes, they're—they're—I don't belong in that world, Logan. I'm not gonna try to force myself into it."

"What world?"

"The world where I can spent rent on a suit and have that be fine. The world where people are that rich and that—that—" he suddenly remembers that Logan is one of said rich people, or at least is acting like it right now— "I just can't do it."

Logan's quiet for a moment, still just looking at him. Roman looks away, sipping at his coffee. Shit, it's good coffee too. Logan's probably thinking about how much of a waste of time this was, and he wasted his time the other day with buying the gifts too…and now with the whole party thing, maybe it's better to just leave.

That's not very seasonally gracious of you.

The memory of Logan's voice in his head shocks him into realizing how much of a dick he's being. Logan's doing this—presumably—out of the goodness of his heart, or at the very least he's not expecting Roman to pay him back or anything. And here Roman is, practically throwing a tantrum about it.

"Sorry," he says quietly, bowing his head, "I'm being an asshole, aren't I?"

"Being uncomfortable doesn't make you an asshole, Roman."

"Yeah, but…"

"No buts. I'd rather you tell me than suffer through it." The sincerity in his tone makes him look up again to see Logan still watching him. "What is it about it that's making it worse? Is it the money? I really don't mind paying for you. At the risk of sounding, well, like that, it's not that big of a deal to me."

He's gonna put that aside for now, yeah. "I just—I know how those people look at me."

"And how is that?"

He scuffs his toe through some of the salt congealing under the bench. "Like I'm not supposed to be there. Like I have the gall to be in the same room as them, or like I don't exist. I don't like it."

There's a pause. Then: "Do you think that's how I look at you?"

His head jerks over. Logan's hands are still around the coffee cup, but there's a bit of tension in them now. He adjusts his glasses even though there's really no need for it. He swallows.

"I don't…I really don't know how you look at me, Logan," he admits, "I thought that's what you were doing at first, but it's…I don't know, okay? Is that what you want to hear?"

"I'm not your enemy, Roman," he says with an unmistakable hurt that makes Roman want to throw up, "nor am I interrogating you."

"I know, I'm sorry. I…I didn't mean it like that."

Logan just looks at him for a few more seconds. He fidgets under it and looks away.

"Why're you doing this," he asks quietly, "surely there's an easier way to get around your boss's instructions?"

Another long pause. A car drives by and nearly splashes them with gray sludge. A dog barks at a pigeon taking flight.

"You're the first person who's successfully gotten me to buy actual presents for my family in almost ten years," Logan says suddenly, "and you managed it on the second time we'd ever met."

Hold on, Roman was what? He did what, now?

"And I thought about how my family would react to those presents and I found myself actually getting excited about it," he continues, like he isn't blowing Roman's mind right now, "so…perhaps there's something to this whole gift-giving, caring thing people like to peddle this time of year."

"They do say Christmas is the joy of giving."

"Quite, but I have no interest in making you out to be a charity case."

"You don't?"

Logan shakes his head. "No. If anything, this is my reward for myself. A selfish act to balance out the selfless one."

Roman frowns. "You…buying me a suit is you being selfish?"

A familiarly smug smirk curls up Logan's face and Roman will deny the way he swallows when he sees it until the day he dies. "No, me inviting the one person I'm genuinely fascinated by to an otherwise boring event of schmoozing and networking is the selfish act. The suit, well…aside from the fact that it is a crime that you've never been properly fitted for a suit before—"

"Hey! Again, not all of us are going to galas all the time!"

"—you managed to captivate me in a cheap sweater and worn jeans," Logan continues as if he hadn't spoken, voice suddenly a lot, lot lower, "and I can hardly pass up the opportunity to see you in something better."

Roman does not squeak. He does not turn bright pink, he does not shuffle like a schoolboy, he does not go all wide-eyed like some little fawn caught in the jaws of the Big Bad Wolf. He doesn't do any of those things because there's no way Logan just said that to him like it was nothing in the middle of the day while they're in public.

Logan's smirk just grows.

"You what?"

"Come, now, there's no need to be shy. You certainly have a healthy appreciation for my suits—" goddamnit— "can you truly begrudge me for having the same interest?"

"I—that's not—I didn't—shut up!"

He just chuckles, like an asshole, as Roman hides his splutter behind another sip of coffee. Thank God he's wearing a hat so Logan can't see how red his ears are right now.

"I don't need three suits," he manages with a remarkably steady voice, "not if the party's just one night."

"You never know, you might have the chance to attend another in the future."

Nope. Not thinking about that. Absolutely not, no, thank you. "I think sticking with just the one is fine for me right now."

"Very well." Logan stands with a swish of his coat. "One suit it is."

It takes until Logan's halfway down the block that Roman realizes he's been tricked into agreeing to let Logan pay for a suit, and the bastard doesn't even look sorry about it when Roman hollers after him.

Dick.

Of course, as soon as they get inside, part of him wants to leave immediately, but then Logan's hand is curling around his arm and he swallows, letting himself be guided across the sales floor to a section with a lot of black and navy fabric. He stares at the racks with what must be some form of abject terror because Logan's chuckling at him and leaning close.

"Don't worry, I'm not about to leave you on your own."

"You'd better not," he shoots back, but his voice comes out all high and thready.

Logan waves over a sales associate who's dressed better than Roman's ever been in his entire life and explains that Roman needs a suit. At least that's what he assumes just happened. In reality, there's a dull buzz in his head right now that's making it hard to focus on anything other than staying upright, not having a panic attack, and on the warmth of Logan's hand holding onto his arm through his coat. He does notice the associate eyeing his clothes a little disdainfully and quickly forces out: "Easier to change."

"Ah, how sensible. If only all of our clients were as considerate. Now, what sort of styles do you like?"

"I have absolutely no idea and I'm mostly scared to touch anything."

Both of them laugh and somehow manage to do it without sounding mean. "Do not worry, nothing in here bites, I assure you."

Roman can't help the way his gaze darts to Logan. Logan, because he is apparently determined to kill Roman today, winks at him.

"You're not helping," he hisses as the associate turns to pull something from a nearby rack.

"I don't recall promising to help, only that I wouldn't leave you alone."

"You're buying me another hot chocolate after this."

He does, and it's way too expensive and it tastes way too good and he wants to be mad about it and the garment bag he has to haul home, but then Logan's threatening to get him a cab as well and he high-tails it out of there before he makes good on it.

When he gets home, he just sort of…stands there for a moment, looking at the bag. In a daze, he reaches up and traces the emblem of the store embroidered into the black fabric. This is his suit. He actually owns it, it's made for him, it's something that he just has now. And yeah, maybe Logan was right: more than a small part of him is dancing at the idea of such a thing.

Before he can tell it to stop, that part of him whirls him through a set of doors and he's picturing himself in a grand ballroom with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, music overflowing into the gardens, the balconies, as it should for any spectacular party. With this suit, he belongs there, just as much as anyone else, amidst the swirling skirts and glittering tidings, where he could stand on his own and be welcome, celebrated, even, as much as anyone else. Where a hand might extend to him and mean it, where he could look up at Logan's face and smile, and not have to worry that a kiss would be refused—

The garment bag hits the floor with a crumpled thud.

Roman blinks rapidly, giving himself a good shake. What the hell was that? How did Logan manage to sneak in there? What's that got to do with—

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no.

No, no, no—no, shit, he is not doing this again. He knows better now, he's not that young or naive or stupid anymore, he is not getting caught up in some ridiculous thing that will only end with his heart in pieces on the floor and a wobbling smile on his face. He is not going to start doing that.

With a muffled groan, he snags the bag off the floor and stomps to the closet, hanging it up and shoving the door closed again. This is stupid. This is the third time he's met Logan, there's no reason for him to be doing this. Even if by some Christmas miracle Logan doesn't find out about this—because Roman wears his heart on his sleeve and Logan keeps doing that thing where he sees him—his traitor of a heart flutters again and he shoves a pin through its wings—he's still going to have to look at him at this stupid party and—and—

And his mind flashes back to that little bit of hurt he'd heard in Logan's voice when he asked if Roman thought he looked at him the way all those fucking rich people do. He swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. Would Logan look at him the same way now, knowing he was assuming the worst of him?

No, no, that's not right. Accurately predicting the rejection of his sudden and really very stupid feelings was not assuming the worst of him. If anything, Logan might complement him on his very mature and reasonable handling of unrequited emotions. Yeah, that was it. He just has to be an adult about this, the way everyone else has said the same thing his entire life. It's a good thing he realized these feelings now, actually, and not at the party where there will be other people and he'll be in that suit and Logan will be there too, because he's invited Roman of all people, going so far as to make sure he has something to wear…

He snaps himself out of it, almost glaring at the closet door. No. Not doing that. He's just going to go to this party as Logan's friend, spend the time being there the way a friend would, and not think about what would happen if Logan had asked him there as more than a friend.

He can do this.

***

He can't do this.

He's been standing outside the lobby of this big slab of glass and steel in the middle of downtown for about ten minutes now and he has no idea of how to move forward. He's on the list, he knows, because Logan sent him a confirmation email yesterday, so he doesn't have to wait here for someone else to show up and let him in, he definitely doesn't have to wait for Logan to show up so they can go inside, but here he is. Loitering. He's pretty sure it's only because of the suit that the front desk person hasn't called the cops or whatever.

"You've truly a wonderful sense of timing."

He whirls around to see Logan getting out of a sleek black town car. His mouth goes dry a little at the sight and he'll deny it forever. Take the fifth, or whichever amendment is the one that means you don't have to say shit. Logan's smirking at him by the time they're standing next to each other, though, so he's pretty sure he has some idea of what's running through his head.

"Hey," he croaks, clearing his throat, "thought about going in, but then I realized I'd have no idea of where I'm going."

"They could've told you."

Don't bring your logic here while I'm having a crisis. "Yeah, well, isn't it bad form to show up separately from the person who invited you?"

Logan gives him that look like he's being nice to him by letting it go—and hey, he is a lawyer, maybe that counts as being nice—and takes his elbow. "Come on, then. We're getting dangerously close to being disastrously late instead of fashionably late."

They walk through the door and Logan waves a card at the person behind the desk—ID badge, Roman's brain supplies helpfully. The elevator is just a normal elevator, thank God, but then it opens onto a floor of way too many people in expensive clothing and more of that pretentious not-Christmas music and it's all he can do not to immediately slam the 'down' button again.

"Relax," Logan says quietly, "it's just a party."

"Easy for you to say, you work here."

"Actually, that makes it worse for me: I have to see these people again after tonight."

A somewhat hysterical giggle bubbles up in Roman's throat but he steps out of the elevator all the same. There's a large booth off to one side where racks have been set up for people's coats, two smartly-dressed people manning a small desk. Logan walks up and passes over his coat without hesitating, which means Roman has to hustle a little bit to not get left behind in the crowd.

"So, what're we supposed to do?"

"Mingle," Logan sighs, like he's just been asked to hold up the heavens, "I am responsible for following up with a few of our more…anxious clients, but you just have to walk around and look pretty."

Roman snags an offered glass of champagne and downs about half of it in one go to avoid thinking about that too much. Logan just chuckles and starts leading his way through the masses, Roman trudging along behind him.

The first set of people they come across must be other people Logan works with on a regular basis; they react like Logan's the cool kid coming to join them at the lunch table when he strolls closer, one of them giving him a slap on the shoulder and the others raising their glasses in toast. A change comes over him, growing taller and sleeker as Roman watches before he realizes hey, this is probably one of those things Logan wants him to talk at. Sure enough, as he approaches, one of them spots him over Logan's shoulder.

"Is this the lucky man with you tonight?"

"Yes," Logan says, turning and extending a hand to gather Roman in close, "this is Roman. Roman, these are some of the insufferable colleagues I mentioned before."

"Hello, nice to meet you."

"Look, Logan, someone with manners," a woman says, dark eyes flashing over the rim of her glass, "you could learn something from him."

"You must be the one that threatened to stab him if he didn't get the right presents," he says, without thinking, only for the others to burst out laughing. The woman just grins.

"That would be me, yes." She holds out her hand. "Ava Nath. Pleasure to suffer through knowing Logan along with you."

"Roman."

"Claws to yourself, Ava," Logan says lowly and fuck, Logan being all weirdly possessive around his friends—are they friends? Roman's really gonna hope they're friends—is doing things to Roman.

"How'd you manage to meet this one, Roman?" asks another man, nudging Logan with his elbow. "Can't have been through work, otherwise we'd've warned you away ages ago."

Roman swallows another mouthful of champagne. "Mutual friend."

"Oh? Which friend would that be?"

"You guys realize we're not in a court room, right? You don't have to interrogate me if you don't want to."

Again, thank God they took that as a joke, laughing again even as Logan's hand lands warmly on his upper back. The man waves his hand in a gesture of surrender. "Sorry. Ask anyone here, it's hard to turn off."

"No, it's fine, I…should've expected it. I'm friends with Patton, that's how we met."

"Patton…from down on the 16th floor, yes. Sweet guy. Makes sense." He gives himself a shake. "Here I am forgetting my manners too. Scott Kensington, pleased to meet you."

Roman shakes his hand. Logan's hand is still on his back, thumb slightly stroking the material of suit. He should not be paying attention to that, he should be paying attention to the conversation.

He takes another gulp.

"Well, you just got here, so you've still got your rounds to do."

Logan groans. "Don't remind me. Just tell me that Forstby isn't here yet."

"Oh, God, no, he'll probably stumble in about an hour from now."

"Small mercies. Well, it was lovely catching up with you, but I'm afraid we're needed elsewhere. Roman?"

"Yep, I'm coming."

"Pleasure meeting you," Ava calls as he's ushered away, "come back when you're done!"

"Will we be doing that?"

Logan rolls his eyes. "If we must. Come on, now, we've more hands to shake."

It turns out that meeting people in rapid succession is not a good way for him to remember names, or faces, instead he just gets more and more through this glass of champagne with a pasted-on smile and a few comments he doesn't think about that thankfully just make everyone else laugh. He's pretty sure Logan can tell, though, judging by the way his hand never leaves his back or his shoulder for longer than about ten seconds at a time. He'd like to resent him for that. He really would. He'd also like to resent him for feeding the fantasy Roman's brain has been helpfully pushing at him all night but he's ignoring that one like a champ.

They end up in a conversation with one of the firm's clients, not that he really knows what that means—okay, no, he does know what that means, he just doesn't know what he's supposed to do about it. The couple is a striking older duo, a man with ginger hair flecked with salt and pepper, as is his beard, introducing himself as Ben, and a stunning blonde woman with high cheekbones and a piercing green stare who tells him call me Sadie. They'd both spoken warmly to Logan upon seeing him, gathering him in for a hug—which he hadn't been shocked by, nope, not at all—before turning to Roman. He'd stumbled his way through an intro, belatedly offering his hand, only for them to…well, basically coo at how adorable he is. He minds a little less than he'd thought. They explain how they met through a mutual friend again and the three of them have been talking about something business related ever since. Which means Roman can just nod in the right places, laugh in the right places, and not think about anything else.

Nope.

Not at all.

"But that's enough business talk," Ben sighs, "this is supposed to be a party."

"That doesn't typically stop you," Sadie says, to which Ben huffs and she turns her smile to Roman. "Forgive us."

"Nothing to forgive, I get it."

"I suppose we have you to thank for this evening?"

"Uh, what? Sorry, I, um…how so?"

"Come now, there's no need to be coy about it. We all know Logan's a bit of a Grinch when it comes to the holidays," Ben says with a wink at Logan.

"If being practical makes me a Grinch, then yes, I suppose so."

"See what I mean?"

"We weren't sure he was even going to be here," Sadie continues, "so I presume I have you to thank for getting him in the spirit?"

Which…is not how Roman thought this worked out. Logan told him about the party, told him he needed a guest to bring, like it was a mandatory work thing that he had to go to. Not…what he's currently being told. But before he can say that, or something to that effect, Logan's rolling his eyes again. Seriously, the man puts in a full eyeball workout every hour, it looks like.

"Ava's already declared her allegiance for him after learning he helped me with gift-getting, I don't need you two doing the same."

"You, willingly buying presents that aren't run-of-the-mill?" Ben says. "You are a miracle worker, Roman."

"It wasn't that big of a deal."

"It was," Logan corrects gently, looking at him with actual affection, "and I don't believe I ever properly thanked you for it, so thank you."

"Um…you're welcome?"

Sadie laughs. "Next thing you know, you'll be throwing your own Christmas party."

Roman laughs along with her. The idea of cynical, practical Logan throwing a Christmas party will do that. He can just imagine Logan's face at the idea too—

"I've actually been considering it."

He knows his head is not the only one that snaps around to stare when Logan says that. Ben recovers first, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Not this, obviously," Logan continues, gesturing about, "but something with a few friends, certainly."

"Will wonders never cease…I never thought I'd see the day where you willingly get into the festive spirit."

"What can I say? It's that time of year."

"It certainly is," Sadie says, her gaze sliding far too neatly to Roman for a little too long. "Well, I hope that if you do deign to throw such a party, the two of us will be invited?"

"Naturally."

And then there are polite excuses being made as to why everyone has to be elsewhere and they're back to mingling again. Roman's brain is still stuck on the idea of Logan at a Christmas party. An actual Christmas party, where there's cheap alcohol and shitty music and terrible sweaters. He manages to get through a few more brief conversations before he's mumbling to Logan about needing a break and wandering off in search of the nearest window.

He manages to find one far enough away from the pounding music—and open bar—but close enough that Logan won't have to look around forever to find him. He leans against the edge, watching the snow drift between the skyscrapers. Absentmindedly, he tugs at his collar, as if it could get his mind away from the thoughts still swirling around and around his brain.

This is going fine. This is going great, even. It's just like what he normally does at parties: socialize for a little bit, find and hang on to the people he actually knows, and then find a quiet corner to just be by himself. He didn't even check to see if Patton would be here—no, no, Patton's with his partner now, he left last week. Well, that makes it only Logan that he knows here, not counting the few people whose names he's managed to remember.

That's fine too. Completely, totally fine. Absolutely nothing to worry about.

He takes another drink and finds the glass empty. Well, sallying forth to try and procure another one sounds like a bad idea, so he's just gonna have to deal with it.

"You," comes an amused voice from behind him, "are far too sober to be looking so worried."

He huffs a laugh, turning to see Logan holding out a fresh glass of…something that definitely isn't champagne. He takes it, eyes it warily, and at Logan's pointed stare, takes a sip. He doesn't cough, because he's not that bad at this, but he does make quite the face.

"You'd think I just handed you a glass of cyanide, it's just whisky, there's no need for all of that."

"Don't think it's quite to my taste." But he's also not in the habit of refusing a drink, so he tries another sip. This time he lets it sit on his tongue for a few moments before swallowing and it's…mildly better. "Thanks."

"I felt obligated to do a morale check." Logan glances over his shoulder. "The wolves haven't torn you to shreds yet, have they?"

"I thought sharks were the lawyer metaphor animal."

"Both suffice in their own ways. Both have a reputation for being particularly ruthless or determined, an association with chasing bloodshed. Keen senses, for noticing when someone's deflecting."

"Yeah, yeah, we get it," he grumbles, "I'm fine. Just…needed a minute."

"No one's looking at you funny, are they?"

He's about to give Logan a hard time for teasing him about something that he knows is a sore spot, he made his point already, but when he looks up, Logan's looking at him with a small furrow between his brows and the retort shrivels up. He shakes his head. Logan's shoulders relax.

"Good."

"Ava and Scott seemed cool. So did Ben and Sadie."

Logan hums, still watching him. He shuffles under it.

"What?"

"Is there something else bothering you? You seem upset still."

"I'm fine, really, just…not used to all of this," he finishes, somewhat lamely, "most of the parties I go to are more low-key. You know, bunch of people in a house, food, drink…that's it. Kind of like what you were describing."

"I hope you know that you'd be invited too."

"R-really?" He can't help the slight laugh of disbelief. "But we barely know each other."

"And yet, you're the only one who's managed to convince me that there might be something to all this holiday nonsense. You think I'd do something festive and not make you suffer through it with me?"

"See, you say there might be something to it, then you call it nonsense that you have to suffer through."

"Just because there's something redeeming about it doesn't mean I suddenly have to enjoy it."

"You really are a lawyer."

Logan laughs at that, a proper laugh, and that's just fucking unfair that he's a gorgeous bastard when he laughs too. He shakes his head, and Roman quickly looks back out the window. Nope. Not thinking about it. Not thinking about anything at all. No thoughts, head empty, that's him.

"You would come, though."

"Huh?"

"If I did have a party. You would come?"

"Of course I would," he says before his brain catches up to what he's saying and realizes that…yes, he actually would. He'd be happy to. "Just let me know when and where."

Logan smiles. Then it fades slightly, and Roman stands up a little more, about to ask what's wrong. His mouth opens and that, of course, is when someone comes up to talk to Logan and the moment's gone almost as quickly as it came.

"I have to go," Logan says, "don't run off this time, would you?"

"I'll be here."

Logan touches his arm again and turns, touch lingering just a bit on the edge of his bare wrist and Roman takes a huge gulp of the whisky.

Shit.

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[alexanderwales]

Chapter 4 of Save the Cat! was the one that I was most looking forward to: the Blake Snyder Beat Sheet and some discussions on story structure.

Maybe because he's a hack writer, or maybe because he's writing specifically with the intent to sell mass market movie scripts, he goes very structured. The Blake Snyder Beat Sheet is basically what this chapter is about, and when he's describing it, he's very firm about where each individual beat will be. A screenplay of the kind he's describing is 110 pages, and by God you better have the Catalyst exactly on page 12.

Going in, I was curious about two things. First, I'm very familiar with both Joseph Campbell's monomyth and Dan Harmon's story circle, so I was curious how easy the mapping would be, or whether there were any notable deviations in terms of what he suggests.

The BS2 is extremely similar to the monomyth. Of course, the monomyth was meant as observation, and the BS2 is meant as rules to follow for making a good story (or one that will sell), but many of the steps are identical. Snyder calls it the "Catalyst", Campbell calls it the "Call to Adventure". Snyder calls it "The Debate", Campbell calls it "Refusal of the Call". Interesting, Campbell said that refusal of the call was optional (since it didn't show up in all stories across all cultures) but Snyder insists on it.

Snyder doesn't call it the underworld, but he does repeatedly reference the "fun house" or "upside down" aspects of the middle part of the story, the antithesis to the setup's thesis. But here there's a break from Campbell, because for Snyder this is where we have the B-story, a plot that's contained within what Campbell would call the "underworld", which I found conceptually interesting, and which I could immediately map to a lot of stories and movies.

So there wasn't a lot new for me on that front. Opening, catalyst, underworld, enemies close in, triumph, synthesis ... it's not revelatory, and Dan Harmon does a better job explaining the fundamentals of why each piece is there, which helps if you ever want to monkey with them. I specifically found the "underworld B-story" bit interesting, and the phrase "promise of the premise" tickled something in me, but that was it.

Snyder's "promise of the premise" happens during a section he calls "Fun and Games", which happens in the second act, usually before the midpoint. It's the place where the characters are just having fun, where the plot isn't racing forward, where we're seeing all the stuff that's cool and awesome about our premise. I could immediately picture this in my head, and so far as I know, this isn't part of Campbell nor mentioned by Harmon (though it's been a bit). This is "the gang's all together and having fun", it's most of the stuff you'd put in the trailer, and yeah, I think conceptually this is a really strong narrative beat, and a valuable addition to my arsenal of storytelling concepts.

So second, I don't write screenplays, I write webfic that's ideally written in such a way that it becomes ebooks to sell on Amazon, and so I generally have some sense of what I'm doing in terms of structure, but wanted to see if these screenplay lessons had any mapability to the stuff that I do.

And overall ... kind of? Dan Harmon has this insight from TV work that the whole season of television is a big ol' monomyth circle, and each episode is a circle, and each bit of television between the ads is a circle, and you can just nest circles like that.

So my first step would be to say "fuck it" to this stupidly rigid structure, then to duplicate it across different spans of writing, and maybe make sure that I'm not missing anything that way. I think this would be fine, though mostly what I care about are the fundamentals, making sure that there is an underworld, that there is a synthesis, and that we do get some kind of climactic battle where the thematically appropriate forces of darkness seem like they might win. And then subvert a lot of that, because that's more interesting than playing it straight, and eventually playing it straight becomes so cliche that it just won't hit.

I generally do book-level plotting similar to story circle, though I'm not consistent in my approach, sometimes to my detriment. Understanding Snyder's method is helpful in the sense that it reinforces my understanding of what's important to have, what plot beats are most vital for having pleasing structure ... but I actually think that's maybe it?

I really do dislike the dogmatic approach, and really would have loved an exploration of movies that deviate hard from this approach and what makes those work. But Blake Snyder doesn't do that, and maybe is incapable of that level of analysis.

At this point in the book I'm thinking that he's a guy who can only build a single type of bicycle. He understands that bicycle really well, but not the actual mechanics of bicycles generally, so if you showed him a tandem bike or a recumbent he'd just scoff and say that it doesn't work in spite of clear evidence that it does.

[beecauseevan]

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December 2023

The holiday season is stressful, especially for first responders. Eddie always breathes a sigh of relief when January rolls around and the craziness stops—at least until the surge of Valentine's Day related candle incidents hits them and the whole yearly cycle starts anew. The annual toy drive, however, is a brief moment of respite from all the stress; it's not peaceful by any means, it's loud and chaotic, but it's an energizing sort of chaos, and he looks forward to it every year. 

Today is the day. He's down in the app bay, surrounded by tables filled with gifts—dolls and toy cars, lego sets and books on one side, colorful parcels on the other, and he and Buck are in the middle of that mess, turning unwrapped gifts into wrapped ones. Buck is telling him about a documentary he watched the other night, something about a leggings-based pyramid scheme, and Eddie listens to him talk, nodding and shaking his head and providing input wherever it's appropriate, and he gets lost in it, in the sound of Buck's voice and the rustle of patterned paper and the quiet zzzzip of tape being pulled off the dispenser. 

He's wrapping up a little toy excavator when Ravi joins them, a stack of gifts in his hands and a distraught expression on his face. 

"Guys, can I ask you something?" 

Buck stops mid-ramble, instantly ready to problem-solve, and Eddie nods too. 

"Okay." Ravi shoves his hands into his pocket then pulls them out again, fiddling with the sleeves of his LAFD hoodie. "So—you both have girlfriends right?"

"Uh," Buck says, and glances at Eddie.

"Yeah," Eddie says, after a moment. He's been seeing Marisol since May, and things are—good. Things are good. Definitely good enough to be calling her his girlfriend.

"Right," Ravi says, hiding his hands again. "Right. What are you getting them? For Christmas?"

Eddie looks at Buck. Buck looks back at Eddie. Eddie isn't sure why he's waiting for Buck to go first, but he is, and so neither of them answers for a minute. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it's Eddie who breaks first.

"Well," he says. "Buck likes to give his girlfriends gifts that come with built-in GPS. So I guess Natalia is going to be the owner of a brand-new tracker necklace. Or bracelet. Or ring."

"Seriously?" Ravi asks, which is silly. He knows Buck. He shouldn't be surprised.

Buck rolls his eyes at Eddie, who laughs. 

"And Eddie likes to give his loved ones bad news," Buck retorts. "Like, 'hey babe, I'm quitting'."

"That was one time," Eddie replies. "And I did not call you 'babe'."

"One time so far," Buck says. "Who knows what you're up to."

"Guys," Ravi interrupts. He sounds a little bit desperate. "This isn't helpful. I need ideas. Real ideas."

"Who's the lucky person?" Buck asks. 

He slides a sly look in Eddie's direction. Eddie smirks at Ravi. Ravi shuts them down instantly. "Nice try. I'm not telling you."

"Chocolates," Eddie decides, while Buck pouts. "Or flowers."

"That's way too generic," Buck says, before Ravi can even open his mouth. "No, it has to be something fun. Like—a trip on a hot air balloon."

"What if they’re afraid of heights?" Eddie points out. "Go with something safe. Like movie tickets. Or—other tickets. To a Lakers game or something."

"To a Lakers game," Buck repeats, rolling his eyes. "How romantic."

"It is if you like basketball. And—either way, it's better than a tracker."

"Taylor liked it."

"Oh, come on."

"Thanks." Ravi interrupts, clearing his throat. He's backing off now, making his way back to the other side of the table. "All great ideas. I'll—yeah. Bye."

Then he's gone, leaving them alone with their presents and their wrapping paper. Eddie turns to Buck. "He's not going to think about any of those things."

"No way," Buck agrees. "He's probably going to ask Hen instead. Or Cap. And I don't blame him. Lakers tickets." 

Buck shakes his head disdainfully. Eddie shrugs. He grabs a doll from the pile next to him and starts to wrap it up. The paper he's using is white and covered in holly leaves. Buck chose a roll of plain red. 

"I would love to get some Lakers tickets."

"I'll keep it in mind for your next farewell present," Buck replies. 

Eddie rolls his eyes but lets it go. A comfortable silence settles between them, interrupted by the occasional rustle of paper. They could exist in this silence for hours, enjoying each other's presence without the need for conversation, and a lot of the time they do. Eddie doesn't know what makes him break it this time, what makes him ask:

"Is Natalia coming to the party? "

"Uh." The sound Buck makes is too uncertain to be a groan, but only just.

For a moment, Eddie wonders—wonders. There's a strange feeling in his chest, tingly and too tight. He might be coming down with a cold.

"No," Buck says, then, and that feeling fades into something less tight, something—warm. "No, I don't think so. What about Marisol?"

Slowly, the warmth fizzles out. He’s definitely coming down with something. He'll ask Hen to take his temperature later, when they're done with these presents. 

"Yeah," he says. "I think so. She's spending the evening with her family, but she'll drop by before."

Something tugs at the corner of Buck's mouth, twists it downwards, but it's gone before Eddie can identify it. 

"Right," Buck says, and turns back to the book he's wrapping "Looking forward to it."

Written for the @911countdowntochristmas - this was supposed to be 24 drabbles but the Buddie NDE speculation going around pre 8x08 inspired me and now it’s a 24-mini-chaptered fic instead. And definitely more hurt/comfort than fluff. Oops.

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[roxannepolice]

Rant 3/phantom pains of Schrödinger's lore in ChibnallWho/"the history between" doesn't mean much to the author. that is, it does. but it doesn't. but it does. but not really. but./can someone in the group chat please read my time sensitive questions I posted 25 hours ago?

Between bracing myself to finally open the advisors reviewed thesis, waiting for anyone at work to give a newbie a hint, and reading a fairly good criticism of the political stance in ChibnallWho, I guess it's a good time to let go off some steam about this era. Now, an important clarification for tumblr: when I criticize the show, I am not in any way bashing on people who enjoy it! Good for you, and that's why I try to tag these appropriately.

But yeah, this is going to go deep into what I mean when I say the writing in this era is just bad, something even its defenders sometimes concede. This often turns into dicussions of political/social messaging in seasons 11-13, which is as fair criticism as any. Yes, it often veered into confusing to downright appalling. But for me, that's not what "bad writing" means. You can make an excellent story about a likeable rapist and murderer. You can make compelling propaganda of pretty much any economic stance (well, maybe except for "the solution to problems with Amazon is to blow up their trucks so now everything has to be delivered on foot I guess", that's something straight from Monty Python). And of course, the "too woke" "criticisms" aren't anything valid like at all.

No, for me the bad writing in ChibnallWho lies in the general sense of confusion as to who exactly is the target audience here: someone who's very well acquaintanced with the lore(s), or someone who's completely new to the show. Now, this is also inspired by some criticisms of RTD2 is that it is too expository, leading into the show-within-a-show theorizing. And of course, exposition can be done well or not-so-well, and there's good argument some parts of exposition in s14 were on the nose. But the thing about a television series, especially one as long as Doctor Who, is that any episode can be someone's first - and the writer's job is to make it so it won't be their last. What this means is that the audience needs to be provided the information necessary to grasp at least the emotional level of the story, if not every bit of earlier lore logic. In the case of Doctor Who there's also a part of establishing which part of the lore is valid to the story at hand, considering that both within the show itself, but also the huge multimedia lore, there are bound to be contradictions. And that's ok! You have a good story idea that will require a retcon for a better pay off, go for it! Like, if you really think the Doctor should get to save Gallifrey for their 50th birthday, then go ahead, just reduce the Time War to a local conflict between Time Lords and Daleks instead of underlining just how widespread across time and space it was, and logistically impossible to contain by removing one party (this is one of the many cases of "I don't like what Moffat did, but I agree the execution is functional").

Basically, Lancelot having an affair with Guinevre isn't relevant to him storming a wedding and killing mortally wounding giving a fleshwound to the bride's father.

So, essentially my issue with ChibnallWho writing is simultaneously trying to cut itself off from lore/earlier seasons, while relying on it for any emotional pay off. To give a counterexample from this very era's one of best written episodes: when the Doctor goes on about what being turned into a Cyberman means and that she won't lose anyone else to that, that's bloody powerful! And it's powerful regardless of whether you know it's specifically about Bill, or just go on the information provided within the episode - that the Doctor lost someone to this. Unfortunately, The Haunting of Villa Diodati is an honourable exception in this and many other aspects.

So, to start from the beginning. There's a frequent criticism that team TARDIS was overcrowded in seasons 11 and 12 with three companions, to which an immediate defense is that it's not the first time there were three companions at once. Fine. But combine this with the following: it's not just three companions introduced at once, it's three companions introduced at once, plus a brand new Doctor, plus a brand new sonic, plus a brand new TARDIS interior (that's absent for nearly full two first episodes). So you're basically left with four strangers and no point of reference in your getting to know them. And by no point of reference, I mean something that I haven't noticed anyone else pointing out: Thirteen is literally the first Doctor since One to have no established elements in their first season, at all (barring the TARDIS and sonic, again, completely redesigned).

It's a bit hard to discuss One to Two regeneration relying only on stills and audio, but Polly and Ben are there to act as audience proxies for this Beatle-hairstyled guy with a recorder being the old man he was a moment ago. Three's first season all revolves around UNIT, established in Two's era. Four inherits UNIT and Sarah Jane. Five inherits Adric, Nyssa, Tegan and the Master for his welcome. Six has Peri. Seven has Mel, the Master and the Rani. Eight's movie is all about the Master. Even the reboot for Nine has the Nastene consciousness as a hello and the whole season revolving around the Daleks. Ten gets Rose and Tylers, and Cybermen, and Daleks, and Sarah Jane, and K-9. Eleven gets the previously established River Song and a Classic Who villain reunion in the season finale. Twelve gets Clara. Thirteen gets.... Twelve's suit that she should have stayed in and Daleks, nearly three months from her first episode.

And the thing is, I understand how this would have appeared to be a good idea on paper! Complaints about the show getting lost up it's own self-referential ass have been around for years by this point, and even Moffat tried to go for a soft reboot in s10. Chibs literally asking him to set the TARDIS on fire is as symbolic a new beginning as they get. A bold, intriguing idea. As is trying to explore Titanic with nothing but a snorkel.

Because in practice it had two fundamental flaws, one more general and one specific to the story as it unfolded. The general one has been hinted at: this is basically why there's the sense of overcrowding on the TARDIS, while also leaving the audience feeling they don't really know anyone on board. Are we getting to know the new Doctor from the companions' perspective? The companions from the Doctor's? The new villain (and a really unfamiliar one, Toothboy isn't a familiar threat like plastic pollution metaphor or pshysically inevitable end of the world) from an alien's or humans' perspective? The new worlds from all of theirs? We sort of end up relating most to Grace, except she dies in the first episode. The thing is, it is in confrontation with the established that we learn most about the characters. Nothing characterizes Nine more than his interactions with the Daleks, going from torturing one to deciding he can't commit another planetary destruction to stop them. Basically, between a kind straight Black navy officer and a White lesbian strangling her wife in a jealous rage, you're likelier to recognize Othello in the latter. Something tells me this is why RTD had Fifteen interact with another Doctor, Donna, Mel, Kate, UNIT, the Toymaker and even toothied Master before sending him on his own merry way.

The second problem has more to do with the direction the story actually went in. Because just from the above, and indeed after s11 it was a frequent praise of the era, it would look like Chibs is going for something easily accessible to new audiences. Great. But then comes s12 and basically all of the emotional pay off comes from the audience's attitude to the the lore! Or, maybe I'll put it this way: all charitable interpretations of it are rooted in not only lore literacy, but specific readings of established lore. And not only is the lore hardly established for the newcomers, but it's also not established which parts are to be cherry picked for the returning audience. Nowhere is it better visible than in Fugitive!Doctor's TARDIS being a police box. This was clearly meant to tell the audience yes, this is indeed the Doctor's TARDIS, but if you know how much of a deal pre-Hartnell Doctors would be, you'd also know the TARDIS doesn't just look like a police box, it was stuck looking like one in 1963. And so we end up with secret third Doctor theories between classic series 6 and 7.

And this is the fundamental problem with the timeless child. It shakes the lore to the core, but without establishing what this lore is, and how the audience is supposed to feel about it. Oh, you can go for post-colonial criticisms, but that relies on you reading the Time Lords as the british empire, a reading not clear to all of the audience, as exhibited by an actual academic article (because yes, I spent my hard earned money on a collection of academic articles about ChibnallWho and no I absolutely won't share a pdf should anyone dm me) written by an author more rooted in feminist than post-colonial critical theories seeing the new origin of Time Lords as replacing a masculine creatio ex nihilo ethos by that of a feminine explorer-scientist [appreciative]. You're basically supposed to get a phantom pain of a lore that's both alive and dead until observed, the presumed intention being that you will have a positive or negative feelings about the cat, without considering most people will be either abstractly impressed by the metaphor, or equally abstractly disturbed by animal abuse. It's criticising the roman empire by debunking it being founded by Mars's children raised by a she-wolf.

And this is also visible in the Doctor's own reaction to the revelation, which I guess you might argue is complex, but I would say it's more shifting from establishing moment to establishing moment. She goes from being shocked by it (again, no part of the text informed me I shouldn't cherry pick her characterization as including calling Time Lords the most rotten civilization in the universe, also is it even established that's the second time Gallifrey was destroyed?), to describing it as empowering, to apparently not thinking about it for 100 years, to having an identity crisis, to stating her identity is about what she does, to bemoaning the could-have-beens, to deciding she doesn't want to know, to her deepest desire being wanting to know it after all (the vision of ttc in potd). Like, come on, not finding your glasses means your room is messy, not complex. The effect is infantilizing more than anything else, I mean it's been what, three months since the last time a villain informed a heroine she has an epic origin that's also very horrible in The rise of Skywalker? Which impression is amplified by the only clue as to the Doctor's personal, not performed, attitude being that she apparently finds the cliche chosen one story of a boy abused by his adoptive family turning out to be a wizard, and a special wizard at that, comforting. Probably not the intended reading that wouldn't even be available if Rowling got cancelled earlier, but there as things are.

And of course, this has a lot of bearing on how thoschei dynamic is executed. On the one hand we have the entire emotional pay off rooted in the "history between them", on the other vague references to Classic Who and expanded universe, on the third characterization of the Master that is rooted more in fanon Freud-for-dummies woobification than anything this character's motivations have ever been established as. Like, between the charitable reading "Thirteen is hostile to the Master because of the events of s10" and the anti-charitable reading of "Missy's development was retconned in the Master's hostility", the answer is, it doesn't bloody matter to the story at hand, or else it's the writer's job to point to it as meaningful (again, as Maxine Alderton did with cybermenification in THOVD). Another case of "I don't agree with Moffat, but I agree the execution was functional", but you can juxtapose this with the way Simm!Master was presented in s10 - yeah, he got cured and kicked out of Gallifrey; that's really all you need to know, because his role in this story is being an unrepentant asshole and no amount of gifs slowing down John Simm turning his eyes down before saying "Eh, you wouldn't understand" will change that. The same goes for "see, the Master didn't destroy Gallifrey over everything that's been done to them, but over Theta being hurt uwu" interpretation - neither the reading this was the motivation, nor anything relating to the Master suffering from the Time Lords have been established in the text, neither as it unfolded nor as a pay off reveal! This basically relies on the attitude that the most charitable reading is by default the intended one, which is how you end up with "op means that Taylor Swift being gay shouldn't make you ignore all other gay women musicians".

A little bit of an aside, but people remember O was an actual person the Doctor met in unknown circumstances, not just a creation of the Master from the beginning, right? Like, this is taken into account in all "he's so desperate to be friends again uwu" readings, right?

So this is why "if the history between means anything" quote falls flat to me. The meaning is rooted in lore that's brushed aside in the same breath. The author relies on it being meaningful for the audience, while providing only the bare bones of "we were friends, but took completely different paths" background, and that by the end of the first act. Just as he relies on the audience having an emotional attachment to the lore without doing anything to create that attachment.

[chaifootsteps]

College anon dropping in to say that the dubs aren't very good. Some, like the french one, sound like the text went through google translate (and the dubbing in general is terrible despite France having a good rep in the industry). The Italian version of Poison is low-key good tho

As for my reaction to Poison, imagine that gif of the happy yellow emoji looking traumatized/dead inside. I stared at the screen wondering what led me to watching this and how ANYONE would think this was a good scene. Vivziepop claiming that the leaks don't represent the full scene was right for once... It was so much worse. I could think of a more tasteful way to picture it in 5 seconds, it isn't that hard. She could have even kept most of the scene, just remove the graphic stuff to keep the suggestive dancing (a smart idea that should have remained subtle) and maybe keep the Val part à la Addict to show that, yeah, on top of "working" all night (because the graphic scenes made it obvious he stopped "enjoying" work early during the night), Val SA'd him and that shows the entirety of the hell he's going through. It explains why he breaks down and lashes out. Viv didn't need to keep most of the SA, the entire thing was implied.

Also episode 4 comes out of left field. Yes, it was foreshadowed since the beginning but why is Angel suddenly returning his calls? We SAW him ignore Val. He clearly HATES him. Since when is Husk calling him out and badgering him about being "fake"?? They've known each other for a WEEK. It's way too early for that. It's like we're missing 3-4 episodes of development in-between. Angel reconnecting with Val and showing hints that this is indeed a facade, Husk knowing a lot about everyone and giving a damn... This should be a mid-end of season arc for Angel. I'd personally make it end of season 1 so that he can show change during season 2, beginning as someone new, someone who slowly tries to show he cares and let down his bravado in small amounts, with clear hints of being a little scared of the reactions, until it naturally becomes his full-time persona. Maybe have Charlie notice at some point and subtly encourage him, DELIGHTED (in caps because that girl is extra) that Angel is getting better but having to keep her excitement in in fear of scaring him off (because Charlie should have SOME sort of emotional intelligence ffs).

Loser, Baby feels out of place. This is NOT the appropriate reaction to Angel's words. Did they rewrite the dialogue but not the song?? Here's how it sounds:

Angel: I feel like I've gotta be Val's perfect whore all the time so I'm trying to break myself enough he will be alone—

Husk: Well, it's okay to be a loser, baby! Look at me, I'm a failure too. You ain't special and it's okay!

....So Angel is a loser/failure/broken but Val is still into him??? Did they realize that this should send him the wrong message?! That Val will "love" him no matter what and that Angel cannot be free, that he's been making himself miserable for NOTHING?? First of all, Husk's greediness and addictions are NOTHING like Angel's situation. He signed with his real name. That alone implies that Val snatched him early on as he arrived. On top of that, he's being abused every way possible on the regular, for no fault of his own, and is self-destructing. He cannot kill himself and Val won't let him be killed. This is NOTHING like Husk losing a game for more power and being forced to be a bartender.

Here's how it should have gone for the song to work:

Angel: So?! The real me is a good for nothing loser who died in a ditch from some shitty coke! THIS is the famous, hotter than Hell pornstar that everyone wanna fuck! And I've— I've gotta be the part. 'Cause if I'm not... If I ain't then who am I?

Angel's fear should have been about being seen as who he was, as some loser that nobody loved. Let him feel like he beat his father, that now he's someone so suck it dad! You were wrong! Let Angel behave as if his life was a porn movie because that's all he knows now and what he thinks he should be like. Instead of trying to ruin himself so that Val discards him, have him try to be perfect... Because that'll stop the abuse, right? Val is happy when he acts like that. The perverts worship him. No one cares about Anthony.

That would make Loser, Baby work. It would achieve its goal of saying "it's okay to suck, we all do! Look at me, I'm a loser but my life isn't over!" and get Angel to accept that he's enough as he is. If you add in a few episodes beforehand to set it up, it could have worked better instead of being insensitive.

Personally I would have entirely changed the Angel/Val dynamic. Val can still be a whiny bitch but not in a drama queen way as is implied. He gets like that whenever he loses control of his favorite. Have one of the Vees groan and say something about Angel having done something as if it happened often. Make them used to Val throwing a fit because he didn't get what he wanted out of Angel or because he's having a jealousy fit. It already makes Val more controlling. It'll make the messages scene hit harder as, yeah, we can see why Angel left, the dude is unstable and obsessed. I'd be a little more fucked-up and have Angel kinda love him. Ofc in the Stockholm Syndrome way, he's been abused so much he's too attached to leave. That shift in dynamic would explain why he eventually goes back despite everything. Like in the show, he feels ignored in favor of the new resident and the way he's dismissed and talked about makes him feel like shit. He checks his phone again and ends up listening to Val's new voice messages... And this time, they're sickeningly sweet in a row. He's sorry, he's begging for him to come back. He loves him. And that's enough for Angel to go out or answer him. Put a few episodes in-between where Angel seems... Off? How weird, he's jumpy, more on his phone. He's out for parts of the episodes or clearly focused on something else. Then we get episode 4, where everyone culminates to show how bad the situation is for him. I'd personally not have Val hit him. He's smart enough to not leave bruises on his top whore. However, he's manipulative and threatening. There's no doubt that he COULD hit Angel whenever, especially with the way he cowers. Angel tries to diffuse the situation, so well that it's heartbreaking, and he gets bold. That line when he doesn't reply "Yes Val" is meant with silence as we wait for Val's reaction, waiting for him to blow up. A beat. He doesn't. He's not calm but he's not as angry. He's not going to hit him. He thanks Angel, touching him while the other flinches, a hint that he handles Angel roughly in this kind of situation, and just as Angel looks relieved, he announces that he'll have to work all night, distressing Angel again.

Ofc that would require extensive research and talk to specialists to do it well. Viv's audience can be stupid so it's more of a struggle to make it clear that none of this is Angel's fault and to not romantize this shit but it's more interesting than Val being so obviously abusive. IMHO he almost transformed into someone else in that episode and it could work but we didn't see enough of him to go "oh that's the old abuser trick! he's not as nice as he is with others when he's with his victim!". Idk how to put it sensibly but the impression he gave me was "whiny manchild who sadly was given enough power by Daddy Vox to abuse someone" instead of the intended "terrifying Overlord who is unstable and abusing his power to abuse whichever worker he fancies at the moment". I dunno Chai I just think it would work better if he were more manipulative and welding his power in other ways than by force. Like Angel isn't scared by his strength but by his influence. Also I would low-key find a way to make it so that Angel, mistakenly, thinks he can get away with some things to explain how he'd leave for the Hotel. Like having him not be a perfect victim. While he tries to cater to Val and keep him happy out of fear (and/or care because abuse fucks you up), he sometimes provokes him or tries to do his own thing. It'd show he's his own person and stuff. Sadly that would be lost on Viv's stans and it would absolutely spark some victim-shaming stuff or worse. But I think if she's gonna try to portray something like this, she could do with some nuance and not so... Cliché? Of course, it happens like this to too many people but it feels like she's applying a trope with no thought into it. The most cookie-cutter depiction she could do for quick satisfaction or to tick that case. A bit like how Stolitz is a mix of multiple tropes and is a terribly done version of that trope where a noble falls in love with someone whose class is lower with a sprinkle of badly done transactional relationship that sparks feelings. Thinking of HB, HH has better representation of abuse but not by much. I feel like if Stella was a man, she'd have written it this way? It felt like fetish fuel hiding underneath the surface whereas Stella was lazy writing.

I dunno man, I wanted to rant about Charlie and her design but episode 4 hit me like a wall of bricks

Thank you for all of this, College Anon. This was a great read, and you're right, the Italian version of Poison goes so much harder than the English.

Also Italian Val's voice is...yeah, 10/10 stars on that one. Mama mia.

[onlymurdersinthebuildingreblogs]

Only Murders In the Building Season Four Finale Thoughts While Watching

WARNING SPOILERS FOR ONLY MURDERS IN THE BUILDING SEASON THREE FINALE AND SEASON FOUR!!!!!! INCLUDING THE KILLER! AVOID IF YOU ARE NOT THAT FAR INTO THE SERIES, IF YOU AREN'T YOU BETTER, IT IS SO GOOD!

Note: I lost track of the day of the week and didn't realize the episode had aired until I was in bed.

Pre-Watching:

I wonder if the plot holes Sazz had found were unrelated to her murderer, Marshall/Rex. Set up for the next season.

I hope Theo appears, I really like his character. I also think he's good for Mabel.

I'd also like to see Lucy. I really liked her character.

Watching:

1:07-1:27 -- Oh, so they have filmed for Brazzos!? At least, Sazz got some more time with Charles.

1:16 -- "TAP IN!"

1:27 -- Isn't Sazz a little too old for stunts like that? Jane Lynch is 64 years old.

1:46 -- Osteoporosis! That sounds like a disease. Is that a disease!? (One Google Search Later) Google: "Osteoporosis is a bone disease that weakens bones, making them more likely to break. Osteoporosis occurs when the body breaks down more bone than it replaces, causing bones to become less dense and more porous. This makes bones more fragile and susceptible to fractures, even from minor bumps or falls. Osteoporosis is often called a 'silent disease' because people may not notice any symptoms until they break a bone. Osteoporosis is the leading cause of broken bones in older people and postmenopausal women." Me: YEAH, APPARENTLY SHE IS! "MINOR BUMPS OR FALLS"!? SHE JUST DID A FLIP AND JUMPED FROM A STORY-TALL BUILDING! "I'M GOOD"!? DOESN'T SEEM LIKE IT!?

2:10 -- "Hey, Sazz, you okay!?" Aw, at least, Charles is making sure she's okay, even if she's kind of lying to him. She's making sure he's okay.

3:06-3:14 -- Not related but accent letter choices, why can't they have that on laptop keyboards, instead you have to know like shortcuts and then some laptops don't have those shortcut buttons. Like my old laptop had a numeric keypad so if I wanted to do the em dash, I would hold "alt" then push 0151, but my new laptop keyboard doesn't, so I can't make that dash and I use it more than you think. Look at the lazy double dashes, I've put.

3:18-3:27: "Every time we solve a murder that's when the next body drops. It's like when one murder door closes, someone we know either gets stabbed, poisoned, or shot." I guess that's kind of true? Jan stabbed herself and then poisoned you. "Glitter Guy" attacked Mabel and she stabbed him like the awesome girl she is. (I would say bad*** but I don't like to curse. So what's the age-appropriate way to say that?) Charles pretended to be stabbed by Alice. I don't actually think that happened last season though. There was when Donna poisoned Ben and nearly killed him and then Cliff pushed him down. I guess, Cliff nearly committed suicide. Also he already killed Glen.

3:28-3:35 -- "Why would you say that? You know my wedding is tomorrow. Loretta's on her way now, here to the murder building." That didn't occur to you when you picked this place as the place your wedding would take place at? Your podcast is called "Only Murders in the Building".

4:02 -- It's always kind of annoying when the villain is like "do this or I'll kill you" like they're not going to do that anyways.

4:15 -- Oh, I'm so hoping Mabel beats him up! She is not the kind of woman you want to mess with!

7:02-7:27 -- They're gonna go on the ledge. I don't like height so I don't think this is going to go well for Charles.

7:47 -- Oh! Nope! Nope! Too high! Too high!

10:20 -- I know the feeling! Every time I'm on a high place, I feel like I'm tipping forwards. Ever since when I was around eight, when I was on top of a lighthouse, looking down over the railing and my brother picked me up to take a picture without telling me and I suddenly felt like I was somehow falling over the ledge and I started panicking and he had to put me down before he dropped.

10:54 -- "Are you on this ledge, because I'm moving to New Zealand?"

11:52 -- And now they're dancing on a thin ledge several stories up.

11:55 -- How is no one seeing them? I once sat on the window sill of a second story building and apparently someone called the cops because of that!?

12:22-12:45 -- Marshall, you're doing a terrible job at being causal. You're switching accents from southern to Scottish.

12:49 -- Vince and Rudy are barley doing a better job. "Whatever you have is what we're looking for."

18:46 -- "I'm gonna fly to New York to see Charles make his Broadway debut." Aw. I never actually considered the though that she had seen the play.

22:05 -- Oh, she knew Charles would find him!

23:07 -- Jan to the rescue!? Didn't see that coming! I thought it'd be Rudy or Vince.

28:40 -- Finally, Will comes back! And oh, Dickie, I didn't expect to see you, I forgot about him.

32:07 -- Is Uma going to be the next victim?

32:14-32:54 -- Season five set up?

32:32 -- What did Nicky have to do with the building?

32:54 -- Oh, Sophia's going to be the next body, isn't she?

34:32 -- There's blood coming out of the water fountain's mouth.

34:48 -- LESTER!?

35:10 -- "72 emergencies ahead of you" Are you kidding me!? No wonder podcasters are the only ones who seem to be able to catch killers!

[pippytmi]

Kacy exes era was definitely something and so was your fic

All of those angsty prompts are sooooo good. The first one where it's late but you can't sleep so you show up at their door in pajamas 😭😭

Fully imagining Kate turning into peak Season 1 mean girl cause she isn't getting enough sleep and is making it everyone else's problem too and then Lucy also can't sleep and it's effecting her performance out in the field so Jane tells her to take a long weekend and catch up on sleep but she can't cause she can't sleep without snuggling right up into Kate

thank you omg i hope I lived up to the the angsty kacy post-exes era 🫡🫡🫡

and holy shit wait i can 100% see the vision for the sleep one? like. jane notices that lucy isnt doing her best and tells her point blank “whatever you need to get well-rested” so when kate opens her front door at midnight she is understandably very, very confused. totally imagine the scene going like this:

////

Kate answers the door with an (appropriate) amount of apprehension due to the time of night, but it melts away into soft, plain confusion when she sees Lucy standing there. “Lucy,” she says, quietly, sounding vaguely hopeful and relieved and—Lucy absolutely cannot allow that. 

(The hope, anyway).

“Hi,” Lucy says firmly, “I need to sleep here. Tonight.” She reconsiders her words a little and amends, “Please.”

“Is there something wrong with your apartment?” Now Kate looks concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Everything's fine. Can I—can we take this inside? Your neighbors will really hate me otherwise.”

“Yeah, of course.” Kate steps back to let Lucy in, watching her with that patient, perplexed furrow of her brow, and Lucy is extremely mad that she still finds it cute.

“Jane told me to come here,” Lucy says, once they're standing together in the living room and Lucy is pointedly avoiding eye contact. “Well not here specifically, she just made me take time off to get some rest and…well, she might have mentioned that you're a little off yourself. In her usual cryptic way.”

“Off?” Kate echoes, frowning. “Off how?”

“Well you've been a little—prickly. More than usual. At least, that's what my team has been saying, I haven't noticed anything.” That's a lie, but Lucy is trying very hard to show she doesn't care what Kate Whistler is up to nowadays. 

(Showing up today is just. A brief lapse in judgment). 

Kate crosses her arms. “I've been nothing but professional. If they sent you to complain—”

“That's not why I'm here, okay?” Lucy pauses to exhale deeply. “I can't sleep. I'm driving my team crazy and Jane finally told me to take some time off and…I think I just can't sleep without you.”

“Oh.” Kate blinks, outwardly stunned, and her frown falls entirely. “Does this mean—”

Lucy doesn't let her finish. “I don't want to talk about us,” she says. “I don't want to listen to you explain, or…or anything. I just want to sleep, and obviously, it needs to happen in your bed or it won’t happen at all.” She pauses. “If you’re fine with it, anyway.”

Kate just stares, for a moment. “Is this…wise?” she finally asks. “The ramifications of getting used to being around each other could be…” 

“Don’t analyze it,” Lucy protests. “And don’t look at me like I’m crazy. I just need one night of sleep or I’ll actually kill someone. Can we just, take it one day at a time here?”

“Okay.” Kate bites her lip, looks down and doesn’t look back up. “Sure. We can just stay together tonight and figure the rest out later.”

The act of giving in is very uncharacteristic for Kate Whistler, and deep down, Lucy knows why Kate is agreeing. She knows why Kate is so willing to let Lucy back into her bed despite their issues. And she knows why Kate is currently gently clearing off Lucy’s side of the bed that is so obviously slept-on instead of Kate’s usual side.

But Lucy pushes those thoughts deep, deep down, and instead buries her face into a pillow and listens to Kate’s uneven breathing. “I can hear you thinking,” she says, feels Kate shift behind her. “Relax, okay? We’re just two people…sleeping next to each other…to get one night of rest. It doesn’t have to be weird.”

Kate gives a huff of a disbelieving laugh. “Right,” she mumbles. “Not weird at all.”  

Already, Lucy feels like this is working, all exhaustion melting out of her body as she sighs. “You can touch me, you know.”

Kate coughs. “What?!”

“It it helps you sleep,” Lucy yawns, eyes already closed as she pulls the blanket a little tighter. She has an explanation on the tip of her tongue about how she knows Kate likes the grounding ability to touch, but it fades when sleep comes.

(She swears, though, that she feels the faintest brush of Kate’s fingertips at her waist right before it does).

[theic-manic]

Hi, so this is going to be a bit of a long ask, and if you don't think you can answer that's absolutely fine, I would appreciate even being redirected to something/someone else.

I've always felt somewhat drawn to hellenism in the last three, two years. I was brought up christian but I never believed in that god, like absolute certainty. I was atheist for most of my life, but I couldn't find it in myself to be that completely skeptic if hellenism when I found out about it. Recently I felt particularly drawn to Apollo, like he outright popped into my head, so I decided to try for real this time, and called out to him, I study the ancient classics and I knew a decent bit about hellenism from my own research, but I went to look into Apollo more and SO much just aligned with my life right now.

We had this one day of blinding sun immediately after, and I was so happy since I felt that was an answer, I go to school very early so I saw the sun rise and in the evening I went out to thank Apollo for the day when the sun was going down.

What scares me is that since I've called out to Apollo, I've been tired, and it's not my "normal" tired. I can usually do things even if I haven't slept well in a while, but all of a sudden I'm tired all the time, from the moment I wake up to when I go to sleep. I tried sleeping more, didn't fix it. I genuely haven't been able to do anything for days, including things I told Apollo I'd do for him since I can't make proper offers yet (I live with my parents atm, not a minor tho). I said sorry but idk I'm worried the reason why all my energies are suddenly gone is because I upset him or someone else, and I would be happy to ask for forgiveness but I don't even really know how to understand WHO I've upset (from my understanding Apollo isn't tied to sleeping or tiredness, i thought illness but I don't have anything) or if I've upset anyone at all, and I was hoping for some tips from someone who had a bit more experience than me...?

Thank you so much for your time and your answer if you're able to write one to me!

Hey,

Thanks for the ask.

This is completely understandable and not unheard of among many of us...

Apollo is the god of plagues and diseases (among other things), so people prayed to him to be healed of the illnesses that he sent them.

He also had a history of giving people plagues and disease out of anger so I understand how you might think you've somehow enraged a deity however unlike Christian religion, it typically takes either someone of great importance or someone to fuck up royally to manage that and I honestly doubt that you've managed either.

There's just a solid chance that you've not set appropriate boundaries with Apollo and also others within your life.

In my intense and extensive experience as his devotee, if you're not doing what's required to look after yourself (such as not establishing boundaries with other people to ensure that you're not setting yourself on fire to keep others warm) he will absolutely knock you onto your arse (make you bedridden) to force such lessons.

The good news is that you have nobody to seek forgiveness from.

You need to do the following:

- Rule out all possible mundane causes such as diet, dehydration, stress, sleep disturbances, changes in medication, seasonal changes etc.

- Start setting boundaries with others to look after yourself.

Yes, that includes close friends and family.

- Start setting boundaries with Apollo (and any deity you worship).

I once had a migraine stop in its tracks because I asked, out loud, "what the actual fuck Apollo? You can't be making me ill whenever you need my attention, this is toxic as fuck".

But yeah, do those 3 dot points, and you should be okay.

Rest, hydrate and try to ponder what lessons on self care you may be needing to learn right now while making it clear to Apollo what your limits and boundaries are regarding worship and how he connects with you.

Sincerely,

An Apollo devotee hit with a random infection and lethargy as I am being reminded of this very lesson in boundaries being an act of self care myself.

[ryttu3k]

Thoughts on Space Babies and The Devil's Chord, in no particular order:

So we agree that the overarching storyline for this season is stories becoming real, yeah? Starts with invoking folklore at the end of the universe, is solidified with the Toymaker and his rules of play, used heavily in The Church on Ruby Road, and now children's fairytales and musicals? Fascinated to see where this is going!

Generally ridiculously camp and bonkers and you know what, I goddamn missed that. It had whimsy. It had space babies and musical battles! It was fun and ridiculous and just. Felt good, man.

And it also had far-future dystopias and reproductive horror and slow starvation and suffocation and refugees and a timeline of depression and nuclear winter simply to create the universe's biggest aeolian harp so, you know. Doctor Who is back, baby!

Space Babies

Okay the episode was pretty fun and, at times, sweet (they saved the monster!) but oy the CGI/voice acting for the babies was… not great XD;;

Rani reference!

RTD detractors: "Ew, fart jokes with the Slitheen, so immature." RTD, writing an elaborate snot joke that ends with a colossal projectile shart: "Watch this :D"

Okay yes the projectile shart to get the space station moving is one thing, but, uh. How is it going to stop? XD;;

The nanny filter made me giggle each time.

I actually had to go back and check because I was squinting at the readout trying to work out what's weird and somehow failed a spot check and missed the fact that it had started snowing. Good observational skills, self. Anyway, the snow is definitely a Message. (Is it snow? Like I agree that it's connected with the day Ruby was born, but is what's falling in the church scene snow to begin with?)

Do you. Do you think the butterfly can regenerate now.

The Devil's Chord

Oooh, a Pantheon! Love a Pantheon. There's mention of the One Who Waits, speculation on whether 'the Oldest One' was there the day Ruby was born, we already have the Toymaker -> Maestro line, so maybe we'll be getting others? Also, the way Maestro phrased something earlier was fascinating too - "the Lord Temporal who sealed my father in salt". The Lord Temporal. There's been a lot of references to how the Doctor isn't just a Time Lord, maybe they're part of the Pantheon too, as the personification of time? Regeneration and Time Lord society all coming from this base primordial being?

Anyway I goddamn adore Maestro.

I wonder if we'll get Susan at the end of this season? (See: last link of this section!)

July 2024? So that's a good six months of travelling unaccounted for! Big Finish just going 👀

Semi-related but Ruby saying she was born in 2004 gave me a Crisis. Rose was 19 in 2005 and born the same year as me. Yeah okay I am good with that! Martha born in either 1986 or 1984, yep, fine, all checks out. But now there's a companion who was born when I was already an adult how is that legal.

"He ripped my soul in two." Oof.

The sonic actually did something sonic!

"I thought it was non-diegetic!!" I have so many questions. The walls are getting thin. Yeah, especially the fourth! (Random thought: Doctor Who official ARG?)

Lennon-McCartney saves the world! (I still like Harrison's stuff better.)

Apparently Murray Gold had a cameo but I have no idea what he looks like so it went completely over my head lmao

Missed opportunity to play The Devil Went Down To Georgia or The Devil's Trill, although we did get Danse Macabre and Rhapsody in Blue (which I put on as soon as the episode finished)!

Fun fact about Danse Macabre: "The solo violin enters playing the tritone, which was known as the diabolus in musica ("the Devil in music") during the Medieval and Baroque eras, consisting of an A and an E♭—in an example of scordatura tuning, the violinist's E string has actually been tuned down to an E♭ to create the dissonant tritone." (People hated it when it premiered. It made them feel anxious. Which is... kind of appropriate.)

There's always a twist at the end~ (I thought it was little H.Arbringer, but who knows?)

[mylittleredgirl]

finally, m*a*s*h update!

season four disc two! ("quo vadis, captain chandler" to "dear ma")

there is a LOT going on in the frank and margaret department

i kind of tipped my hand here when i posted about my new obsession, but even if you are not circling the drain on this doomed ship... the Unresolved Breakup Tension is fuckin WILD in this disc

she literally punches him in the face!!! how was that not a breakup!

but then he buys her something or does something to charm or impress her, and it works! then he blows it again!! rinse and repeat!!!! i am 👀🍿

sam and diane from cheers are still theeee platonic ideal of slap-slap-kiss but these clowns definitely walked so they could run

i literally jumped off the couch when his wife found out, aaaaa it's so juicy

I'M SORRY i realize this doesn't speak well of me as a person, but those long close-ups on her face as she voluntarily eavesdrops on him dismissing their relationship (twice!!) and her heart gets fully crushed??? i could eat popcorn to this all day.

this is the kind of dysfunctional relationship that my artist friends would choose in our youth so that we could Suffer and Make Art, so i really hope margaret is writing terrible poetry about it

anyway, we're peroxide-roots deep into GIRL WHY??!??

and then bj very gently explains to radar that well, see, frank and margaret both kinda suck and we're in the middle of nowhere, so they're all they've got

and i had to spend three or four days staring at the ceiling about it, because YEAH. it's not just that they're each other's only rank-appropriate source of star-spangled orgasms

(and they both care far more about military hierarchy than they do about marital fidelity)

but they are so consistently unkind to everyone around them that they have no other choice for any human connection full stop.

i'm not even talking about their ongoing bullying war with hawkeye and trapper or bj, because that's dirty pool on both sides, but i could count on one hand the number of times either of them have interacted with a subordinate nurse or enlisted man without threatening them. like they literally would not have anyone else to talk to.

but the reveal that she still wants to MARRY HIM? oh god. ohhhh honey. noooo.

that fake proposal prank was so genuinely mean. mostly because they ruined her hot date! 👏 let 👏 margaret 👏 fuck 👏 random 👏 dudes 👏

"isn't general barker the one who wanted you to spank him?" lmaoooo

OKAY i swear i can talk about other things:

hawkeye continues to just NOT pull without trapper here. the nurses are fully dismissing or ignoring his efforts, and honestly is he even trying that hard?? have we seen him get even one date?

i've been trying to come up with an "intricate rituals" joke about hawkeye and trapper but where the rituals are... girls. you get me.

i re-watched the pilot and the desk ep (for frank/margaret reasons DON'T JUDGE ME), and hawkeye and trapper LITERALLY end the pilot handcuffed together, and in the next episode talk about sharing a nurse. how am i supposed to take this???

speaking of nurses, you know that little 🙄 you have to ignore in 2024 whenever the women on m*a*s*h get called honey and sweetheart and baby on the job (though tbh i worked on a construction site and an ad sales office in the 2010's and got the same treatment -- but in the modern day it's done ironically babe)

BUT when potter calls margaret "good girl" after he gets shot??? total opposite feeling. i literally had to pause and take a moment. he's her dad now.

also when he tucks radar in???? everyone's dad actually

in loving memory of radar's other dad though, two important points:

how proud would henry have been of drunk & disorderly radar??

and henry's "i've always wondered if i might be radar's dad" bit is genuinely 900% funnier now that we know radar's mom looks EXACTLY like him.

i don't think i have ever circled back to talk about klinger, who became so so so awesome

it's so funny that in klinger's very first appearance and 30 times since then, he has been told straight up that wearing women's clothes will never work to get him out of the army. there's no explanation for his commitment to this particular form of passive resistance except that he genuinely loves it

the swamp rats built a still and klinger got a sewing machine and learned a craft. he's so good at it!! his looks are 🔥

i feel uncomfortable when i see him in fatigues tbh. it happened a few times in this disc and i would like it to Stop actually

also precious baby father mulcahey... Protect Him.

i LOVE that everyone showed up for his church service when the grand poobah chaplain was in town. they love each other!!! (also the life magazine jeep shoot!!!)

"quo vadis, captain chandler" was really good. i'm still over colonel flagg's whole deal but i now understand why everyone loves sidney freedman, and the guest actor they had playing not-jesus was incredible

bj continues to be the best little brother hawkeye could have asked for

also he maybe invented cpr?

i didn't say much about him here but I LOVE HIM and also his off-screen wife

forward and onward!!!