So we saw Tammy Thompson sing the national anthem in the first episode of s4...
Which prompted Robin and Steve to give each other looks because they remembered Robin's coming out moment in the bathroom, where they made fun of Tammy's singing...
Vickie overheard them joking, and Robin took the opportunity to talk to her, saying that she "used to think that Tammy sounded good because I had this massive crush—um, we took a massively hard class together. We were in Mrs. Click's class together," reminding the audience of Robin's explanation that, in the class, she wanted Tammy to look at her, while Tammy only looked at Steve.
So episodes later, in the boat out on Lovers Lake, where Robin looked at Nancy looking at Steve? Yeah. This was a direct callback.
And it's interesting that even though Robin's crush was specifically mentioned when talking to Vickie, it's this scene with Nancy that we see what Robin referenced in action.
But the question is: why do any of this?
Even though Robin said Vickie is the girl of her dreams, we saw Vickie for approximately 3 min of s4, and it's within the last 20 min of the final episode that they had their first actual on-screen conversation. Meanwhile, Robin had been glued to Nancy's side all season. The writers are smart, they could've inserted Vickie into the main group at any point, to give her and Robin a chance to bond, and to develop their relationship. It's been done before with other characters. If anything, it seems like the last thing the writers would want is to give clear preferential treatment to Robin's dynamic with a character who's (supposedly) not meant to be a love interest for her (especially in the season where the actual love interest is first introduced, and the audience has been mentally prepped for Robin to have romantic interactions). I'm not saying Robin can't have platonic female friends, I'm just pointing out interesting writing choices, and the usage of show vs tell.
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mmm thoughts of private executioner!blade, who is high priestess!kafka's bodyguard. well, more like her guard dog, as many fearfully seem to think.
he is aloof and gruff and rough around the edges, his name capturing it perfectly. when in the eyes of the public he either keeps to himself or stands ready by kafka's side, but when out he lurks in the shadows ready and waiting to carry out her death orders.
you, yourself, haven't had very many pleasant encounters with him... if you can even call them that. that being said, you haven't had many pleasant encounters with anyone. notorious for your... less than pleasant disposition, for a lack of better words, you have more people who'd rather see you run through than those you can call a friend.
in a dog-eat-dog world, you had no choice but to protect yourself. that, however, ultimately became your demise.
"oh? so you're the one sent to kill me. can't say i'm all that surprised."
standing before you is the feared executioner. his sword is tucked inside the sheath attached to his hip, that ever-present dark swirl of an aura stifling the air. he doesn't say anything, instead opting to silently stare down at your slumped and worn-out form. you find that his gaze doesn't bother you; rather, it's oddly comforting knowing someone will see you in your last moments.
"i've never asked you for a favour before, so this will be my first and last request for you." in all honesty, you're not sure where this chattiness stems from. considering you're currently in a holding cell under the crime of attempted murder towards kafka (a poisoned wine you were most definitely framed for, though you can't say you were surprised) and are awaiting for your turn to be under the guillotine for your public execution, you probably should be a little desperate towards the private executioner in front of you.
and yet, your mind is nothing if not peaceful.
with a huff, you relay your request, "can you make sure it's quick? painless, preferably, but i'd rather you just get it over and done with."
silence blankets the cold chambers. moisture accumulated along the cobble ceiling drip in a steady rhythm, like a clock ticking away the seconds. it's unnerving, almost, how there is not a single sound other than your impending countdown.
"why?" comes his low mutter, effectively causing a ripple within the stagnant air. you almost think you misheard him, but his following words cease the thought, "why won't you ask me for help?"
had it not been for the abrupt shuffle and clanging against the metal bars, you would have never looked up to see him in your last moments.
his scarred hands gripping the metal until his knuckles turn a ghastly white and blood dripping from his palms is what greets your sight. as your gaze slowly trails up, you almost let loose a laugh of disbelief; who would have thought blade, the infamous guard dog of the high priestess, could make such a desperate expression? one looking as though his whole world crumbled before him, in which he can do nothing but sit and watch.
(you will never know of the anger and desperation which coursed through his veins the moment he heard of your predicament. had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have cared. but you're not anyone else; you're you — unapologetically, wholeheartedly. it didn't take him long to hunt down those behind it, cutting them down without thought and putting an end to their miserable lives. he rushed as soon as he could when kafka gave him the order, no thoughts other than you, you, you, occupying his mind.
you will never know of the anguish which overcame him when he found you in such a state, your once healthy complexion and defiant gaze reduced to nothing but a tiredness which had always sat quietly behind your disposition. he's almost positive the muscle which unwillingly keeps him alive tore at the seams from your request, the acceptance in which you displayed causing his mind to go astray. even as he damn-near begs you to rely on him for help — to run away with him to some place no one knows of you and start anew there — you merely smile, resigned and peaceful.
you will never know of how much blade is willing to put on the line for you, for you never made it to see the complete and utter carnage he wrecked in your name.)
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Beanix starting an OnlyFans (do I have to… censor that?) but you get into it and it’s just. “Best Bluffing Techniques.” “Cool Tricks to Shuffle Cards.” “Single Dad Cooking Hour.” Things like that
Trucy films for him and sometimes you see her glove just sticking in from the upper right corner of the screen. Sometimes the recording starts or stops halfway through her counting down
Eventually Phoenix learns about editing and puts a star wipe everywhere he possibly can
Kay does not tell him what people use the website for
Edgeworth also does not tell them and just stands there red as a tomato while Phoenix tells him how well he’s doing
(Phoenix absolutely knows what people use the website for and he’s honestly kind of just waiting for Miles to stop him and explain it one day)
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