#how would you get every combination of characters in a board ?

[theredzelda]

Guys, idk about you, but here it begins to feel like the end of the semester. I have soooo many projects to do and still nothing that I can actually work on, it's mildly infuriating. I still don't have all the subjects.

Anyway, I'm working on a boogle - it's a funny little game where you have to find as many words as possible between different character combinations. Hopefully soon enough I won't need 100 years to set the game.

[glowettee]

✧ how to reinvent yourself without deleting everything this summer ✧

hey lovelies!! WELCOME TO SUMMER! so i've been obsessing over this idea of reinvention lately... like literally woke up at 3am last night to jot down notes in my phone because my brain wouldn't stop thinking about it?? summer always feels like this dreamy little pocket of time where anything is possible... where you can try on different versions of yourself between iced matcha lattes and sunset walks.

i know we've all been there... that moment when you're scrolling through pinterest at midnight and suddenly you're like "what if i just... became someone else??" (guilty of creating entire secret boards dedicated to my "french girl era" that never actually happened lmao). but the thing is, completely starting over is exhausting?? and honestly kind of impossible unless you're in a witness protection program??

so this post is for my girls who want that reinvention feeling without the whole dramatic disappearing act. because honestly? the you that exists right now is already pretty magical, we're just gonna help her shine in some new ways.

✧ why gentle reinvention just hits different ✧

i had this realization while reorganizing my bookshelf last week (yes, for the third time this month, don't judge me) the most interesting characters aren't the ones who completely transform overnight. they're the ones who slowly evolve, keeping their essence while discovering new facets of themselves.

like, remember in "emma" when she realizes she's been in love with mr. knightley the whole time?? she didn't become a different person, she just finally understood something that was already there. that's the kind of reinvention i'm talking about: the recognition, not rejection, of who you are.

✧ actually magical reinvention tips that feel like character development ✧

digital presence evolution (without the cringe factor)

• create a finsta where you post the aesthetic you're curious about but not ready to commit to (mine started as dark academia but somehow evolved into cottagecore with a side of astrology memes??)

• change your social media bios to describe who you're becoming, not who you've been

• make an email signature that makes you feel like the main character (mine has a tiny moon emoji that literally no one has commented on but makes me happy every time)

• curate a new spotify playlist with songs that feel like your "becoming" soundtrack (tip: add one new song every morning as a little ritual)

• start ending your texts with a new sign-off or emoji (i switched from "x" to "✨" and now my friends get worried if i don't include the sparkle)

• take selfies from a completely different angle than your usual (overhead instead of straight-on changed my LIFE)

tiny identity shifts that nobody notices but YOU

• give a slightly different name at starbucks, not completely different, just a variation that feels like an alter ego (i use "amelia" which is my middle name and it feels like slipping into another dimension for 5 minutes)

• create a secret signature scent combination by layering two perfumes you already own (vanilla + something citrusy has main character energy, trust me)

• change your handwriting slightly, make your y's loopier or dot your i's differently (sounds so minor but feels so intentional)

• develop a subtle personal symbol and incorporate it places only you would notice (i draw tiny stars on the corners of important journal pages)

• start carrying something unexpected in your bag that represents your new era (i have a tiny rose quartz crystal that literally no one knows about)

• choose a "power color" you don't usually wear and incorporate it somewhere small every day (even just as a hair tie or phone background)

space magic that costs zero dollars

• rearrange your room based on the energy you want to create (bed facing the window changed my sleep quality so much??)

• create a tiny altar/intention space somewhere private with objects that represent who you're becoming

• switch up where you do everyday activities (i started doing my skincare routine by the window instead of the bathroom and it feels like a whole spa moment)

• change the scent of your space. different candles, incense, or even just boiling cinnamon sticks on the stove

• put up photos from a completely different phase of your life than what you usually display

• rearrange your books by color or theme instead of author (my shelf organized by "books that made me cry" vs "books that changed my mind" feels so personal)

• sleep on the opposite side of the bed or with your head where your feet usually go (literally changes your dreams, i swear)

style whispers that feel like screams

• start wearing your hair in a completely new way just one day a week (slicked back bun on tuesdays has become apart of my routine)

• change where you wear your everyday jewelry. ankle bracelet instead of wrist, rings on different fingers

• try "dopamine dressing" where you wear something purely because the color makes you happy, not because it "goes" with anything

• experiment with makeup placement rather than buying new products (blush higher on cheekbones or across nose bridge instead of apples of cheeks feels revolutionary)

• wear the "special occasion" clothes on random weekdays

• try to add one unexpected accessory to elevate basic outfits (a silky scarf tied on your bag handle)

• match your nail color to your current emotional goal rather than your outfit (blues for calm, reds for confidence)

routine alchemy that changes everything

• take a completely different route home, even if it's longer

• switch when you shower AND the temperature (night showers ending with 30 seconds of cold water changed my sleep quality)

• read the last page of a book first before starting it (chaotic energy but changes how you perceive the story)

• change where you sit in every familiar setting... different spot on the couch, different chair at the dining table

• set alarms for weird specific times (9:43 instead of 9:45) so you actually notice them

relationship refreshers that feel magical

• respond to texts with voice memos if you usually type (this transformed my friendship with my long-distance bestie)

• ask people completely different questions than usual ("what made you smile today?" instead of "how was your day?")

• suggest a different type of hangout than your usual (art gallery instead of coffee shop, sunrise instead of brunch)

• share something slightly vulnerable if you're usually private (i told my friend about my secret passion for astrology and now we have the best conversations about it)

• write actual handwritten notes to people instead of texting

• create little rituals with friends that feel special

• be the first to suggest plans if you usually wait for others (this tiny shift literally expanded my social circle overnight)

mindset magic that costs nothing

• choose a new word to eliminate from your vocabulary (i stopped saying "sorry" before asking questions)

• pick a new word to deliberately use more (i've been using "delightful" instead of "cool" and it makes ordinary things feel magical)

• create a secret personal holiday that only you celebrate (i have "manuscript monday" where i work on my secret novel for just 20 minutes)

• start a collection of something weird and specific (i collect interesting sugar packets from cafes and it makes every coffee shop visit feel like a treasure hunt + i get to discover new food brands).

i literally started taking a different route to my morning coffee last month and ended up discovering this tiny bookstore that's now my favorite place?? sometimes the smallest detours lead to the biggest discoveries.

the most interesting people aren't completely different versions of themselves every season. they're just constantly evolving.

xoxo, mindy 🤍

p.s. make sure to rest this summer, you're gonna need it <3

[flufftober]

🍂 🍃 Hello and welcome to our fourth annual Flufftober 🍂 🍃

We’re so excited to be back and have you here once again!

As always, let’s fill the month of October with as much fluff as possible 🥰 for that to happen, you can either use our 31 regular prompts or enjoy a little challenge 😏

Below the cut, you'll find all our rules, posting info, and all the prompts in writing. If you have any more questions, please feel free to send us an ask.

And now, for the challenge...

Prompt Extras

We love to see how many of you get inspired by our prompts every year - be it by the original list or the Prompt Extras. Once again we're offering you that option and you're more than welcome to replace prompts from the original list if they don't work for you for whatever reason - no explanation needed.

As has become tradition, we offer you last year's top five fan favorites (as voted in the end survey). In addition to that, we also offer a little challenge: five angsty prompts for you to turn fluffy!

If you don't want to replace any prompt from the original list but still love the additional ones - or you simply want to challenge yourself even further - you can also mix them all together!

So in whichever way you use these Prompt Extras, have fun with them and go wild 💚

We hope you like these prompts, and now

Happy Creating 🥳

Standard Blog Rules & FAQ

Addendum: We do not allow AI creations of any kind.

(Due to previous asks, we made sure to add more points to this section - while they're not new rules, they're newer to this list, so you'll find them colored green)

No inc*st or p*dophilia - we can’t keep you from writing it or creating art for it but it won’t be reblogged. No inc*st: This rule does not apply to distant cousins and such, as you might find in the LotR fandom (or basically in all of European Monarchy). The line we draw is at direct blood relations (siblings, parents, kids) and/or legal guardianship. No p*dophilia: This rule does not rule out fandoms that feature teenagers such as Harry Potter, Heartstoppers, Hunger Games, etc. It also doesn't mean you can't write about their time together as teenagers! It's aimed at ships in which one is a minor and the other is not - but since even that has grey areas, the rule is this: if you keep it SFW, all is good and allowed, we don't care; if it turns NSFW, be mindful of the legalities of the world/society/times your characters live in.

No hate or ship bashing - we’re all different and we all love different things. As long as it doesn’t go against rule #1, it’s allowed.

Tag correctly! Trigger warnings (including cheating!), ships, ratings, (pure) smut, etc - it’s all fine as long as you tag it.

There’s absolutely no word count restriction, write as little or as much as you like.

In regards to art, anything goes: drawings, paintings, collages, mood boards, gif sets, videos, playlists… the sky’s the limit (though not really…). If you would like to create a podfic, the fic you're using does not have to be new - your creation will be new!

You can mix and mash different mediums however you like, be it within one prompt or on different days.

While we can’t force you to write fluff or create fluffy art, please try to keep in mind that this is a fluff event 😉 that, of course, doesn't mean you can't combine it with angsty/whumpy prompts - hurt/comfort is absolutely welcome!

You can start creating as soon as you see this - but please refrain from posting before the respective day.

If you post early, we will schedule your post for the correct day; if you use multiple prompts in one creation, we will post on the earliest day you used.

You can participate on as many days as you like, even if it’s just one; you can also create multiple entries for the same day.

You can replace as many original prompts as you like with our prompt extras; you can also combine them with the original prompts or create for them in addition, that's completely up to you.

It’s okay to write one story/a series for all the prompts.

You do not have to stick to one character, ship, or even one fandom - switch as often as you like to or even write for multiple ships for one day.

The ship does not have to be a romantic one! Friendship and family feels are more than welcome (but this is not a way to get around rule #1!)

Original works as well as OCs in fandoms are welcome! But please make sure to mark these clearly, either in the tags or the post itself. We're not familiar with all fandoms (though we're definitely learning a lot!), so we're not always sure what might be an OC and what might be such an unknown side character not even Google can find them...

Reader insert fics (for example "character x reader") as well as RPFs are absolutely allowed.

Other languages are also welcome - just make sure to clearly mark the day and fandom so that we can still easily reblog.

This event can be combined with other events as long as the other event allows it.

Late entries are always welcome, even if it is months or years later.

All fandoms and ships are welcome - fanon and canon - as long as they’re of age (in case you want to add smut) and not related.

Posting

Posting to tumblr

Please use the tag #flufftober2024 Please make sure there is NO SPACE between flufftober and 2024! We will NOT be checking the other tag this year!

Since tags are sometimes wonky, make sure to also mention us with @flufftober in your post

We will try to catch them all, but please don't be mad if we miss a post or if it gets reblogged a bit late

If you're absolutely certain a post has slipped past us, feel free to send an ask with the link to your post

To make reblogging easier for us, make sure to add the following tags: #flufftober2024 #day [xy] #[fandom] #[ship and/or main character(s)]

If you're using a prompt extra tag it as #alt [number]

Posting to ao3

You can add your creation to the collection Flufftober 2024 (either as flufftober2024 or as flufftober_2024)

Late entries are always welcome, on tumblr as well as the ao3 collection! Neither will close - but like always, reblogs will become less regular the more months have passed...

Prompts

1. Lost Pet Meet Cute

2. “Left. Other left!”

3. Favorite Scent

4. Market Day

5. Acorn, Chestnut, Pine Cone

6. Mistaken Identity

7. Hoodie Weather

8. Chopping & Piling Wood

9. “Don’t do that!” - “But…”

10. Bet, Game, Contest

11. Ingredients & Spells

12. “This is spooky.” - “Really?”

13. Attic, Cellar, Hidden Room

14. Fantasy AU/Mundane AU

15. “What are you wearing?” - “It’s laundry day!”

16. Yes, No, Maybe

17. Only One Bed

18. Bewitched

19. Yarn

20. Paw

21. Bonfire

22. Heirloom

23. Stormy Night

24. Comfort Food

25. Haunted House

26. “I can’t find it.”

27. Afternoon Stroll

28. Lucky Charm

29. Time Capsule

30. “Forever?”

31. Make a Wish

Prompt Extras

Last Year's Favorites

Alt 1: “I’ve got you”

Alt 2: Rainy Day

Alt 3: “Wait you love me?” - “I always have”

Alt 4: “I hate it” - “No, you don’t”

Alt 5: Porch Swing

Challenge "Make it Fluffy!"

Alt 6: Gravestone

Alt 7: Getting Revenge

Alt 8: Written but never sent

Alt 9: Suddenly Severed Communication

Alt 10: Rejected, Betrayed, Exiled, Left Behind

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 31ST LEGALLY BLONDE ━━ seishiro nagi + coercion !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. seishiro nagi + coercion. there’s no way someone broke up with nagi because he’s too blonde!? poor baby, maybe you could provide a little emotional support…(5.5K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, strangers to lovers (?), teaching assistant/student relationship, dom/sub dynamics, some switching, reader is lifted up by nagi, coercion, dubcon, handjobs, virginity loss, cherry chasing, oral fixation, mind break, praise kink, creampies, soft sex, clothed sex, unprotected sex, TA!reader, elle woods!nagi.

୨୧ — director’s note. happy halloween my loves! i hope you enjoy the final kinktober fic! its been super fun writing and editing for you all. stay tuned for the bonus in the coming weeks <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

this law school thing wasn’t all what it cracked up to be. 

after the love of his life, reo mikage, had broken up with him for someone smarter, blander and richer than him — nagi had been blessed with the genius idea of following his ex all the way to one of the top law schools in the world. the plan was practically fool proof, the guys at his sorority worked hard to help seishiro study — pulling all nighters for practice tests and rewarding him with naps every time he had gotten a question right. 

rin itoshi had even convinced his parents to reach out to a hollywood director so that they could film nagi’s audition tape. it obviously featured isagi and bachira too. nagi had even worn his best designer swim trunks to impress the board of admissions. they’d all been super supportive of the light haired male in his endeavours and were there when he passed his LSAT exam

with all of this combined, he had managed to get in in — if that wasn’t enough for reo, then what was?

the answer? nothing.

reo still wanted that bland, basic bitch his family was marrying him off to. she was sensible, she was rich and seishiro quickly realised that he had only ever been a bit of ditzy fun to reo — a dumb blonde to stick his dick into whenever the time felt right. eye candy and nothing more. balancing his shattering hard with the complexities of law school had been tough for the white haired male and everything seemed to be going wrong. no one would study with him, reo wouldn’t even look at him and his friends back home were busy with the wedding plans nagi so desperately wished he had. 

however, that’s when you came along. 

after having the epiphany that he didn’t need reo to succeed — nagi knuckles down and studied hard for the law firm internship being offered amongst his cohort. he was relieved to have you as a teaching assistant in the process, not only were you absolutely gorgeous but you were compassionate and empathetic. you were smart, eloquent and everything seishiro wished he could be for his ex.

perhaps that’s what drew him to you, why he followed your every word like a puppy drooling after a treat. you’d been kind to nagi for the entire semester, from helping him out with studying for the internship right down to today, where he would be taking on his very first case in a court of law. it should have been easy, the facts were simple too. the client and fellow fraternity brother  (shidou ryousei) was accused of and arrested for the murder of his wife… but something about the events weren’t seeming to add up. nagi couldn’t come up with an alibi either. 

it was as if the words; the reasonings, the justification for shidou’s freedom were right in front of grey-scale eyes, only scrambled up like morse code. “how about we take a break?” as if you were a vision from his dreams or an angel from up above, you appear behind nagi’s tall frame as he slumps defeatedly against the hotel room desk — your hands fixing themselves to his broad shoulders for a massage. “you’ve been at this all night, seishiro.”

the law student swears your touch could heal all human ailments, the warmth of your palms seeping into the tense parts of his muscles like a cell performing diffusion — relaxation forming a comfortable fog over his brain. “i know shidou didn’t do it,” nagi defends with a grumpy pout, leaning back into you so that his head rests lazily against your stomach. “he told me… he said he was getting liposuction.” 

“we’ll need evidence of that,” you note, jerking your head to the side so that nagi can write it down. this entire time you’d been such a good mentor. “good boy.” something clicks in the light-haired male’s brain, a crackle of electricity shooting down his spine at your praise — swirling around in his guts as if to activate arousal.  “run me through the witness statements again.” there’s a sensual lilt to the tone of your voice and your touch cascades from his shoulders up to his neck like a backwards flowing waterfall.

seishiro isn’t sure if he’s making things up or reading the signs correctly — but he knows that there’s some kind of tension bubbling in the air. particles that resemble an aphrodisiac using kinetic energy to collide together, painting the room with lustful colours. “shidou’s step daughter says she heard a gunshot around 2:15pm after leaving the shower, walkin’ downstairs only to find shidou hangin’ over his wife’s body — covered in blood. ugh, this is too much hassle. this doesn’t make any sense!” he tosses an annoyed sigh into quietness of the room, moaning in surprise when you cup the base of nagi’s neck to pull his head up to face you and your eyes meet.

“you need a break seishiro, we can come back to this later,” you hum, the vibrations of your voice laced with sex appeal. as he swallows thickly, the law student’s Adam’s apple bobs under the pressure of your fairy-light grip on his throat — anticipating more from you. at this point, you’re half bent over him as he leans back in the chair, pink tongue slowly darting out to cover your lips in a spit shine. “how about it?” 

this feels so wrong. nagi’s cock stirring beneath his slacks at how good and kind you’re acting towards him. no one has ever gotten him this hot before — no one aside from reo. and you were still his teacher, by technicality, it would be wrong for nagi to even consider sucking your tongue down his throat. and yet, he can’t find it in himself to stop the temperature from rising between you, for falling into your dangerously salacious trap. 

“y-yeah,” he breathes deep when you squeeze his throat a little to test the waters. “i could do with a break.” 

“me too,” you gasp all too agreeably, bending the rest of the way down to capture seishiro’s lips in a searingly hot kiss. just as he wished you pry his mouth open with the tip of your curious tongue — pushing through his plush lips and curling around his own pink appendage. the lip lock is passionate, ravenous despite the mess and spit that you exchange. he chases your lips until he can’t breathe, sloppily accepting anything you give him, letting you lead where he can’t. 

he’s never done this before, not like this, not without reo. but in this moment, the silver-blonde doesn’t think he could ever go back to making out with his ex. not now that you’re the one kissing him. 

“i-i've never done any of this before.” the blonde gulps, swallowing down the copious amount of spit that builds on the palette of his tongue — looking into your eyes as a sense of hunger dawns on him, as if you’re the very meal he’s set to devour. “not without anyone that wasn’t—“

reo. 

sure they’d done stuff together. naughty touches here and there, hands ghosting over boxer briefs and fingers tweaking nipples (sei’s were especially sensitive because of the cute little piercings his ex insisted he get) — but nothing close to actual sex, nothing with a girl, nothing with someone like you. a burning heat, unlike anything nagi’s ever felt before, begins to brew in his lower stomach. his cock rises beneath his pants that suddenly feel all too tight.

nagi’s girth twitches against his thigh as your nails rake their way down his chest and slowly pop open the buttons of his crisply pressed white shirt. it heaves beneath his clothes — heart hammering against its calcium cage of his ribs. 

“i can tell, pretty boy.” you soothe him by purring into the shell of his ear, teeth tugging at the softness of his lobe. “but you’re a good kisser though. did reo teach you that?” your lips cascade down to his neck like a gentle flowing river at the same time that your hands delve below the belt to squeeze at seishiro’s swelling erection — testing the waters. 

his hips instinctively buck up into the warmth of your palm and a grin spreads across your plush lips at the feeling of his precum soaking his underwater and smearing across your fingers in thick, clingy webs. 

white and seedy and he’s nowhere close to cumming. almost like a little virgin. 

“have you ever done this before, seishiro?” 

the sound of his name, salaciously spelt out on his tongue, earns you a high pitched whine from nagi — his head rolling to the side and his thighs squeezing together with vicious need. “n-no,” he pauses before he grunts out a response and his entire body seizes as you take a firmer grip on his cock — jamming a thumb into his leaky slit to spread his arousal. “but i wanted to i just… reo said not until marriage—“

“— you don’t have to listen to reo anymore.” you announce breathily, setting a steady pace to your fist to jerk him off with. you’ve barely started and yet your hand is already glossed in a slight sheen of pre, soiling your knuckles from its viscousness. it’s so much for someone who’s never gone father than sloppy kisses and grinding while making out. it nurtures a certain seed of satisfaction in your chest to see him so messy so fast. “you can listen to me, sweet boy. do you want this… do you want it with me?” 

without letting go of the fat, drippy cock within your grasp — you shift to stand between the desk and nagi’s chair, shoving papers and court notes to the ground in your lustful haze. nagi thrusts lazily into your closed fist as if it’s instinct, following the sensation like a moth takes to a candle light. his grey eyes grow murky like a pond, swimming with desire for you and only you.

who was reo mikage to seishiro nagi? when there was an angel like you willing to feed this inexperienced man morsels of a heavenly pleasure he’s never felt before. the lawyer in training nods at your words like an eager man fallen to siren’s song as bait. “i want you,” he whimpers airily. “i wanna with you.” 

you rub down his thick, lengthy dick far enough to have your fingertips briefly brush against seishiro’s sensitive, weightly balls — just pulsing full of seed to give to you. the feeling makes nagi jump up from his seat so that he immediately towers over you. his height doesn’t overwhelm you, not when the towering blonde collapses onto you with a case of the shakes. he trembles above you, supporting himself by using one hand on the table while is mouth sloppily finds your neck to suck on and pacify himself.

“good boy, sei,” you coo, voice as sweet as hot sugar or candy. “i want you too. i always have. you’re such a pure, darling boy. glad to see that it’s true.” your praise is hidden in your soft moans as seishiro licks at the crystalline salt on your bare skin. you’re a little too twisted, taking advantage of his inexperience and his position beneath you as a student, but neither of you seem to care in this very moment. 

sweat beads against nagi’s hairline like diamonds on an expensive Chanel necklace and roses bloom across his cheeks with exertion — his hips rise and fall into your sticky fist in fluid motions, changing the steady stream of ecstasy you provide him. your hand is a solace for his aching cock, but you still make your student work for it. make nagi chase you since he only works hard for the things he wants. and right now, he wants to reach the end of the tight rope of pleasure you have him walking on. and to stave off the stormy frustration he feels from the case.

your hand wriggles it’s way into his wet silver locks, dragging nagi’s hungry mouth over yours since he’s so desperate to taste you, to have at you. it shows in the way he roughly grabs your hips too, grip so tight it threatens to leave bruises he’ll have to apologise for later. “ngh… please. g-god. miss…a-angel please,” he stutters, his bucking into your hand faster and harder, back and forth, back and forth through the tight ring of your fist. his bright and angry red cockhead peeks through the other side, glazed in opaque white — it’s a nice feeling, blistering hot and sensitive. “i…hah… gotta—“

nagi’s lashes flutter against your cheek — a strained whine reverbing in the base of his throat while you let him fuck your hands to his heart’s content, let him chase this new pleasure he’s never known. let him fall from the high heavens with blackened and burnt angel’s wings. you make him sin, for the first time ever. something about this should feel off to nagi, his law teacher taking advantage of him like this — but at this point, he’s too far gone, drowning in a hellfire of lust. 

mocking his moans, your mouth falls open in one of your own as you follow along with the pitiful expressions crossing the contours of seishirou’s face. “what is it, sei? what do you need?”

the room is too hot. your bodies against each other are temperate in the sex tainted air — accompanied by wet slapping sounds from your hand around his throbbing cock. “n-need to let go. it h-hurts,” he sniffles out, forcing his tongue into your mouth again to calm himself down. the more you speed up, remorselessly jerking him off, the closer nagi gets to the end of his own tether. this sensation is unfamiliar, the crumbling foundation of his orgasm coming crashing down as you fling droplets of his precum and arousal about the place — some of it landing on your clothes, the desk and discarded papers. 

again, neither of you care. 

“surrender to me baby, it’s okay. i’ve got you.” guiding the pale blonde through his first ever orgasm, you pour your heated words into his slobbering mouth — tongue running over his pearly white teeth and tangling with his drool coated tongue. that’s all sei needs to hear before he crumples against you with a shout — the first wave of his high crashing over him and pulling him under. 

it’s world shattering, brain melting as he cums. his abdomen contracts under your never-ending touch, ropes of hot white dribbling from his stimulated tip like a tap that keeps running. nagi swears he almost blacks out, falling dizzy and victim to your lustful charms as he twitches and cums and cums into your soiled palm. 

“f-fuck,” a soft whimper bubbles up on his raw bitten lips, stuttered out in suprise. “w-what was that?” 

“you orgasmed for me, sei, so pretty baby.” comes another set of your gentle praises. he feels his entire body wrack with a shakes at your words, his cock doesn’t dare to soften either. “you look so good when you cum.” 

his greyish-brownish eyes roll back into his skull when you let him go, his tip slapping against his clothed tummy. the brush of his cotton shirt against the slit on his tip makes him writhe from the sensitivity. “c-can i cum for you again? promise i’ll keep being good.” 

“of course,” you grin, proud that to have corrupted the poor boy. “are you okay to let me touch you again or do you want it now?” 

“touch me. now.” he growls, gripping your hand and guiding it towards his dribbling shaft, aiding the movement of your palm around him to start slow and lazy — working seishiro up into a heat once more. this time, the way your hand languidly jerks him off is made smooth by the evidence of his last orgasm, which you now use as lube. if you weren’t pressed for time and with a court case first thing tomorrow, you would have gotten onto your knees to clean up his copious amounts of mess. 

you quickly reduce him to a babbling mess against you, drool laden on his tongue and dripping onto his skin as you drive your thumb over nagi’s hot tip in tight circles with your free hand — touching what doesn’t fit in the other. “reo treated you so badly, poor baby,” you mewl sweetly, kitten licking at his pulse point just below his neck. “you work so hard, you deserve so much better. you deserve me.” 

he believes you, blindly and naively. nodding tenderly despite the way he widely fucks both of your hands as if they’re a makeshift hole — warm and slick, all for him. dopamine shocks him at the stem of his brain, spreading throughout his body like a wildfire only you can tame — it burns so good and  feels even better to have your dainty, perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his chubby girth so deliciously.

for a moment, you let seishiro go to squeeze at his heavy breeder’s balls — noticing the way they pulsate in your palm to signify the pale blonde’s second impending orgasm. “i think…hah… i think ‘m gonna… c-cum! again!”

pushing at his shirt, you press a kiss to the creamy skin of nagi’s shoulder and hum pridefully. “thank you for letting me know, sweetheart. cum for me. give it to me.”

with your permission granted, another blinding ecstasy takes over nagi, and he falls victim to you and your merciless hands once again. blood rushes through his ears like a storm surge, drowning at your angel coos while you guide him through his high, never letting up as you palm him through it all. he quivers and his knees buckle, shooting a hot and hefty load of seed all over your hand and clothes and the papers nearby.  “o-oh! fuck…” nagi chokes on a weak sob, bleating like an innocent lamb at the slaughter house while he weighed against your shorter frame — allowing you to bare the brunt of his weight and height. 

he’s so pretty when he cums, silvering blonde locks matted to his forehead by sweat — cheeks pink and lips swollen and red. if you could, you’d swallow him whole and selfishly devour your student for all that he has to offer. silly little blonde, stupid for trusting you, for wanting to fuck you.

your hand doesn’t slow around his pulsing cock but instead speeds up, digging your thumb into his oozing slit as arousal pearls at its centre once more. “n-no, s’too much.” seishiro cries quietly, tears stinging a pathway down the apples of his milky cheeks. “it hurts.” 

“poor you, poor baby.” you say harshly, mocking the poor blonde’s sniffles and hiccups. he’s exhausted and frustrated but doesn’t dare to pull away — his hips running after your hand hungrily. “you’re so cute sei, panting for me like a bitch in heat, fucking my hand like the dumb little blonde you are.” he hisses at the overstimulation, gargles on spit as it floods his mouth to accompany his appetite for you. 

“i’m not…ngh… ‘m not dumb.” he whinges in response and before either of you know it, seishiro is cumming again. hard. soiling his lap with abundant amounts of white. his chest heaves as he comes down, collapsing against you. he might deny it later, but being dumbed down and reduced to a stupid blonde seemed to really do it for him. 

finding his lips again, you soothe nagi with short and sweet kisses that grow more feverish by his own demand. all of a sudden you find yourself pinned to the desk below with the tall blonde between your instinctually parted legs so that he can grind against your panty clad core. “you’re…you’re right,” you say, breathing deep through your nose as your composure threatens to fall apart. “you’re so smart, sei. you’re the best lawyer on our team but…” bucking your hips once, you lower your voice by an octave so that your words slip through his ears like molten chocolate. “you’re acting like a dumb slut right now. don’t you wanna be my dumb slut, sei?”

his palm flattens against the mahogany desk just above your head, caging you in against its cold surface. “y-yes i do, oh fuck. please lemme fuck you. lemme be inside. i’ll be good.” 

“are you sure, baby?” 

“please—“ 

“but sei,” you brush a stray hair that curls at the centre of his forehead, the dumb blonde looking down at you with swimming grey eyes because he’s so needy. “it’d be your first time…” 

his face scrunches, nose crinkled at its bridge and brows knitted together in frustration. now that nagi’s had a taste of your sinful elixir he can’t seem to stop, you’re like a drug an addict can’t quit. something that could ruin his life or future prospects if he doesn’t get help. and yet he can’t look away, can’t pull his body away from yours and his achy dick from between your thighs — instead leaning closer so that it sinks between your plush pussy lips. 

nagi licks his lips, tongue rolling over his bottom one as he pants desperately. “please angel,” comes his broken beg, hanging pathetically in the sex tainted hair. “i need you. need it so bad. please please please— mph—!”

satisfied with his begging, you shove a set of cum soaked digits past the swell of seishiro’s pretty lips — chuckling darkly as his tongue laps over and in between them, and he whines at the salty taste of his arousal on your skin. “atta boy,” you coo, thrusting deep into the hot cavern of his mouth until the pale blonde gags around you, swallowing your fingers down like they’re a cock. he sucks so obediently, so desperately as if to please. like a good student too — and all the while, you work on kicking off your panties and flipping up your skirt so that he can get a nice rewarding view of your glistening cunt. 

“c’mere,” you reach out to the blonde and he leans into you, letting you wrap an arm around his shoulders to keep him in place. “sei,” you gasp at the first contact of his thick, long shaft against your throbbing wet mound — mouth agape as if you’ve taken a gunshot wound to the chest. “do you know how to do this, smart boy? do you know how to fuck?”

nagi nods, pressing his forehead to yours while his hips jut forward on their own and his seedy tip brushes against your pearling clit so deliciously. at first, his movements are lax and the room is filled with the lewd squelches of your sexes moving over one another, but your breathing soon grows ragged and the salacious bump and grind becomes stickier and wetter. 

“u-uhuh.” he mumbles in response.

he’s so good for you even when his mouth is full and his mind is dazed, sucking on your fingers while he lets you overwhelm him. however, the blonde is only so well behaved and patient, and it’s not long before he slips his girth past the tight ring of your entrance without any warning. his fingertips dance up to your waist, grabbing at the fat there and using it as leverage to drag you to the edge of the table so he can sink into you further.

“oh…fucking hell!” you whimper wetly against the junction of nagi’s neck, nails digging into his shoulders to steady yourself while he sets the pace to your sinful dance. he’s bigger than what you expected (despite mapping his girth out with your hands), stretching your sloppy walls wide to accommodate for his size. you don’t complain, however, eyes rolling as he brushes up against pleasure spots you could never reach on your own. “o-oh baby, fuck me.” 

you pull your fingers out of his mouth with a lewd pop, desperate to hear the symphony of his sweet, low and sexy moans instead of having them muffled by your fingers while he fucks you for the first time. the pale blonde can hardly believe it — having your warmth wrapped around him and your cunt drool down on him like a waterfall. 

the law student throws his weight into fucking you, bullying his way into the deepest parts of your womb to slothfully fuck up your gooey insides. your cunt, your moans, your whole body has some kind of control over nagi — dumbing him down and reducing him to a sex crazed mess. to the point where he can’t even remember his ex’s name. he’s a mop of pale blonde hair and sweaty clothes, entirely hunched over you. 

“y-you’re so tight,” he tells you in a dreamy sigh, lost in the heat of your core. nagi’s grabs at your pudgy thighs and drags you back and forth onto his dick, the new deepness to his thrusts causing you to squeeze and froth around the fat base of nagi’s cock. “hah, feels so…so good.” 

wrapping your shaky legs around his slender waist, you offer up the same treatment to nagi — pulling him close to the point where he’s buried in your sluice sex right up to the hilt. his precum smears against your ribbed walls and his broken whimper echoes around your hotel room. “that’s it, fuck me like you fucked my hand, sweet boy.” lust sparks against your sex slicked bodies, your breasts bouncing with every one of nagi’s calculated yet sloppy thrusts. you can’t get enough of one another, clinging and clawing at one another’s bodies madly. “you can do it, prove to reo that you don’t need him. only me.” 

“o-only you.” nagi repeats weakly, tucking his face into your neck as he pounds you to the high heavens. the desk creaks beneath the force of his thrusts, threatening to break at the nails and bolts that hold it together. his eyelashes flutter against your skin, his low and deep moans mixed with high pitched gasps send a hot rush of dopamine across your brain and it really is all too much. 

nagi’s already cum three times and managed to fold you in half over his desk as a virgin. he feel as though he might break with how much he loves this, loves fucking you senseless. another fresh set of tears burn tracks down his face and gather in his unfairly long lashes as they tickle your skin. he hiccups and heaves against you, whilst his breathing grows ragged every time his glistening cock escapes the snugness of your tight pussy, precum stringing along your puffy folds. 

“so good baby, s-so fucking good!” your voice is broken and husky as you praise him, making his dick pulse against your g-spot over and over again. you’re fairing no better than he is, your skin blistering hot to the touch and bruised from how tight your student is gripping you — pulling you back onto his cock.

the pale blonde feels though he might burst, cream your insides like he did your hand and ruin that pretty skirt of yours — the one that sticks to his pelvis because of how close your bodies are. it’s rubbed him raw while he fucks you raw. “‘m i the best?” seishiro asks, cherishing the embrace of your viscous walls, his shaft coated in a crude mix of white as it froths from your tight little hole. “t-tell me i’m the best…” 

“t-the best i’ve ever had! f-fuck, sei!” you squeal in response, only egging the law student on, babbling your praises while fat droplets of your arousal flies about the place — painting nagi’s pelvis in a shiny gloss, curling in his white happy trail as well. 

“‘m the best. i’m the best for you.” grunting from the exertion and the very force of his own thrusts, seishiro wraps both of his strong arms around your middle and stands up from the table — taking you with him. at the new angle, the coil in your stomach only tightens and you fling your arms around his neck to prepare yourself for what’s to come next. “s’not enough, not deep enough. fuuuck you’re so wet and warm. i-i can’t,” he drawls lowly, nipping at the shell of your ear on instinct. 

that’s when seishiro begins to use his sheer strength to lift and drop you back onto his thick girth, fucking up into you at the exact same time. “g-good god!” you cry out, your impending orgasm prickling at your pelvis — shooting down each section of your spine. all of it only serves to spur nagi on. 

“give me your fingers,” he demands huskily, cantering into you from bellow — your juices running a steamy track down his heavy balls as they harshly smack against your peachy ass. “wan’ suck on ‘em. give ‘em.”

you don’t have time to register his ask because he grabs your wrist before your mind can even catch up (too occupied with the way he’s churning up your guts) and has two of your fingers in his eager little mouth — sucking on them diligently. you shudder as nagi runs his tongue between them, coats them in spit and drool that tracks across his chin once he’s done with them. 

“touch yourself for me?” he pleads through a wet whine, almost too innocently. “wanna see you cum this time.” 

it’s only then that you realise he’s been holding himself back, staving off his orgasm so he can see you writhe and gush all for him. the overstimulation must be burning at his brain, sizzling off his nerve endings and it’s probably more than the dumb little blonde virgin can take. so you do as he asks, trailing your spit slicked fingers between your bodies as they grind down on one another and you with your sensitive clit, pulling its hood back to draw tight circles over the pleasure nub. 

“o-oh! seishiro!” 

“that’s right, touch yourself f’me. wanna see you lose it like you make me lose it,” he moans softly constraining with how rough nagi pounds up into you. one of his hands slips from your hips to grope at your ass, pushing you down on him and forcing his cock to grind against that one special spot threatening to make you break. “‘m sorry,” he whimpers as though he’s going to cry. “d-don’t think i can hold back, angel.” 

“then don’t,” you gasp at the new friction, holding onto your last strings of sanity as you fumble with your clit tucked away between your ravaged folds. “i know you wanna cum for me, sei. l-let go, yeah? wanna see you break for me, like a good blonde slut.” 

your encouragement doesn’t give seishiro much choice, and while he’s in control of your bodies — his lean, strong frame anchoring you down onto his cock as it bullies your insides, you are in control of his mind. you destroy his train of thought, ruin the self-made man he was and send him tumbling into his final high. nagi’s orgasm breaks the surface viciously, pouring another load of his cum against your ripe and rippling walls. there’s still so much of it, the warm and viscous white seeping from your cunt and smearing all over your hot mound. 

the force of nagi’s high is so strong that he nearly drops you, just about managing to pin you safely to the desk once more. he’s still cumming and cumming and cumming — but that doesn’t stop him from thrusting into you hard and fast, desperate to trigger your orgasm so he can reward himself. it doesn’t take long, he’d already had you seated on the edge before his mind had shattered to pieces just from fucking you. 

you gush down his length and all over what remains of your shitty case notes (he probably didn’t need them anyways) with a pornographic shout when you finally hit your peak. it’s like the crescendo of a beautiful song — the world around you spinning and flashing white as you squirt and gush for the white haired lawyer. 

“f-fuck.” you giggle with a soft smile, fatigue washing over the both of you come down from the gates of heaven — crashing back down to earth with ecstasy still buzzing in your veins. “good boy, sei. you did so good for me,” you hum softly. “do you feel any better?” 

seishiro looks up at you from where his heavy frame has collapsed on your chest — clothes sweaty and askew, and offers you a lazy grin in return. “better,” he mumbles meekly and kisses a slither of your exposed skin, still grinding his seed into you as if to make sure it sticks. “thank you.” 

bringing a hand up to toy with his hair and soothing him, you nod. “good, we should get some rest, you’ve got a big trial tomorrow, pretty boy.” 

“do you think I can do it?” 

“i know you can, sei.” you scratch at his scalp. “i meant it. what i said earlier. you’re the best lawyer on our team. shidou’s defence stands a pretty good chance.” 

nagi grins once more, only this time he leans up to press a chaste kiss to your unexpecting mouth — pouring all of his gratefulness into it. 

because thanks to you, he feels more confident about the trial, — almost as if he’s won the trial already. and even if nagi goes lose, at least he’s won you over.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[oct0bra1ns]

can you do a platonic yandere teacher? like maybe the teacher kidnaps the darling (his fav student) because he has always wanted a child and you just seem like the perfect child to have! and he kinda gets pissed off if you mention your old family. Reader can be High school or Middle school age i don’t care which.

teehee, i hope you don't mind but i combined it with another another ask which was similar, i went to keep both aspects of the ask so there'll be two yandere characters, they can be a couple or just two people who live together, whatever you want. once again, no names :P

Reblogs and comments are appreciated

Yandere Teacher and Yandere headmaster who used to argue all the time despite the fact that they live under one roof. Yandere teacher hates what the headmaster deems as necessary for the students and teachers while the headmaster hates how the teacher never listens to anything he says.

All the staff hate whenever a meeting is called, not because their day was disrupted, no, but because they have to sit and listen to these two arguing over the most stupid things.

They couldn't seem to agree on anything until they met you. Yandere teacher had always kept an eye on you, the one student in his class who used to submit everything on time, complete every assignment to perfection nd rather well behaved.

He usually hates having to explain himself over and over again but if you ask him to repeat something, he will, even if he has already gone though the topic like 100 times.

If by chance you don't do well on a test, he'll give you another assignment to make up for it, or be less harsh with his grading on that certain paper.

He'll let you disturb his free time if you have any doubts or topic you don't understand.

You've always been his favorite student, so well behaved, never causing a scene in class and doing everything he assigned you to the best of your abilities.

With all this in mind, there was no surprise when you decided to run for the President of the student council, with your track record, you were bound to be selected by the teachers*.

That was until he found out one student from a more well off family was planning to run as your rival and for once he went to the headmaster to ask for help.

The headmaster has always kept an eye on you, someone who managed to impress the Teacher who was known for being nitpicky with everything his students did. Of course, that wasn't the only reason, always participating in events, getting awards, representing the school in inter school events, all made him quite interested in what you could achieve within your school years.

Naturally the moment the Teacher came in, asking for you to be selected as the next president he agreed without hesitation,bringing down the reputation of a spoiled child in the eyes of the teachers was no problem for him.

It didn't take long for both of them to agree it would be better if you were staying with them, after all, being the child of the headmaster of one of the most prominent schools was nothing to scoff, that too along with a teacher who had years of experience and a well known reputation in the eyes of various boards.

Of course, being the student council president meant that you had lots of duties to attend to, ones which included you staying late in the school while most of the staff and teachers left, as such, it was quite easy for them to bring you the unfortunate news that your family perished in an accident, when in reality, they made sure to use their influence to make sure they'd never be found.

Under the disguise of being concerned for you, they'd offer to let you stay in their houses. They'd use the first week to make you forget your old family under the guise of giving yourself closure and giving you time to yourself.

They wouldn't rush anything, in time they'd start acting as if you had no other family except them, both of them would step in the role of your parents.

They'd do anything to keep you happy, learning all your likes/ dislikes, cooking whatever dish you wanted, helping you with whatever and buying you everything you ask for.

The headmaster is not someone who cares if you mention your old family, they don't matter because they're gone and as long as he has you with him, he doesn't care while the Teacher on the other hand, tends to get irritated if you mention your old family, he'll bear it to a point before he snaps and goes on a long lecture of all he's doing for you and how clinging onto the past is not good for you.

At that point the headmaster steps in and drags him aside to have a few words with him and he'll come back and apologise to you over his behaviour. The next time he goes on such a rant, one look from the headmaster and He'll stop talking.

Being the headmaster's child comes with a lot of perks, teachers giving you much more respect, students also making sure they don't upset you. If even after all that a teacher or student manages to do something that makes you upset, the headmaster deals with them personally.

*In schools over here, the student council is always decided by the teachers after a few rounds of interviews and 'tests'

[hms-no-fun]

you were on cohost? i guess too late now, how was it for you?

cohost had its fair share of problems and i could often find the community there a bit too tumblr-core fingerwaggy if you know what i mean. but the site's dead now so it's kind of a moot point. what i find myself reflecting on most these days are the positives.

first, no numbers. i think their no numbers policy was probably a bit over-aggressive, but it quelled some of the rat race popularity contest aspect of social media that often makes it so tedious. i liked their tag tracking system, their robust content warning options, and the absence of infinite scroll. what i miss most about cohost is that their text editor supported CSS, which led to people programming elaborate text effects and puzzles and games in-site that harkened back to the days of flash animations. there was something in this combination of elements that drew out a rebellious creativity in users.

cohost came at a time when social media was across the board feeling terrible (and it's only gotten worse hahaha), particularly as someone who makes shit that relies on you clicking links that take you away from the website or app. algorithms hate this and punish it. users also just seem kind of lazy and disinterested in using the internet so much as letting the internet happen to them passively. but when a post of mine went viral on cohost, people engaged with it. it wasn't just likes and shares, it was comments and additions. it felt like a place that (at its best) encouraged actual conversation and the development of new ideas among like-minded peers. when my posts did well and i included a donation link, people gave me money. it felt genuinely like a website that COULD support professional blog work in a way that was more customizable even than substack yet still RSS friendly, and the Following tab which let you easily see posts of specific users was a REVELATION, like a mini RSS reader within the website itself.

but the enterprise was unsustainable for various reasons (not all of them outside the dev crew's control) and the haters got what they wanted. now our big social media alternative is bluesky, a website that dares to ask the question "what if there was another twitter?" the answer is that it fucking sucks. i hate microblogs so much dude, why on EARTH are we still acting like these disambiguited 300-character-limit posts are the most preferable means of social communication online??? why would you set out to make a better twitter and then deliberately choose to replicate literally every aspect of the user experience that encouraged low-information high-drama conflict fabrication? WHY WOULD YOU MAKE A VERSION OF TWITTER WHERE YOU CAN EASILY LOOK UP THE ACCOUNT OF EVERYONE WHO HAS YOU BLOCKED AND IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE A FEATURE NOT A BUG???????? i just don't get it. i don't even get the optimism of the early adopters. i've seen people decry the post-election decay of the platform like "of course the cishets come in to ruin a community that was defined by trans & queer people" i'm sorry HELLO???????? from literally day zero bluesky was aiming to be a hands-off centrist IPO-friendly tech startup, there was never anything structurally embedded within the platform itself to keep this kind of decay from happening, you just happened to be on there when there were dramatically fewer users most of whom were curious tech enthusiasts. seriously, how have we not learned this lesson yet? you can't define a digital culture by the vibes of random user behavior! unless you have LAWS and GUIDELINES whereby you fucking BAN people for being shitheads, unless you enforce an actual code of conduct and punish bigoted speech and design a system that encourages constructive conversation, you are always always ALWAYS going to wind up at unhinged facebook boomer slop!

the death of cohost and the utterly predictable decay of bluesky are a big part of the reason why i've been posting so much more on tumblr. this is like the last bastion of anything even remotely resembling the old web, with its support of longposts and tagging and how easy it is to find random hobbyists doing cool shit you never knew existed before. like, yeah, you have to search that shit out and tailor your feed to not drive you crazy, but that's what i like about it!!! i am an adult with agency who understands that life is complicated and as such i expect to have to put some work into making my experience with a website positive! but in the hellworld of the iphone everything is walled garden apps for aggregating content where the content and its creators are structurally established as infinitely replaceable and uniquely worthless punching bags to be used and cast aside. everyone's given up on moderation and real jobs don't exist anymore especially if you happen to work in the "creative economy" IE are a writer or critic or artist or hobbyist of literally any kind. we've given up on expecting anything from the rich moneyboys who own and profit immensely off of the platforms whose value we literally create!!! especially now with the rise of "AI" grifters, whose work has ratcheted good old fashioned casual sexism and racism and homophobia up to levels not seen in such mainstream spaces since the early 2000s.

i like tumblr because i don't have to use a third party app to get & answer asks at length, and because it is a visual artist friendly platform where i won't be looked at funny for reblogging furry postmodernism or transgender homestuck OCs. it is a site that utterly lacks respectability and that's what makes it even remotely usuable. unfortunately it also sucks! partly it sucks because this place was ground zero for the rise of puritanical feminist-passing conservatism in leftist spaces, so it's like a hyperbolic time chamber for brain-melting life or death discourse about the most inconsequential bullshit you could ever imagine. but it also sucks because it's owned by a profit-motivated moneyboy who has consistently encouraged a culture of virulent transphobia and frequently bans trans women who call this out. so like, yeah, this place is cool compared to everywhere else, but it is exactly like everywhere else in that is also on a ticking clock to its own inevitable demise. the owners of this website will destroy everything that makes it interesting and will EAGERLY delete the nearly twenty years (!!!!!!) of posts it's accumulated the instant it will profit them to do so. this will be immensely unpopular and everyone will agree it's a tragedy and it won't matter. the culture and content of a social media platform is epiphenomenal to its rote economic valuation. i mean, obviously it isn't, zero of these massive tech companies would be what they are if so many people weren't so eager to give their time and labor away for free (and yes, writing a dumb dick joke on tumblr IS a form of labor in the same way that doing a captcha is labor, just because it's a miniscule contribution in an economy of scale doesn't mean you didn't contribute!), but once a tech company reaches a certain threshold its valuation ceases to be tethered to anything that actually exists in reality.

all of which is why i remember cohost with a heavy heart. yeah, it was imperfect. it was also independently owned, made with the explicit goal of creating a form of social media that actually tries not to give you a lifelong anxiety disorder so it can sell you homeopathic anti-anxiety sawdust suppositories. for the brief window of time when it was extant, i was genuinely hopeful for the future of being a creative on the internet. part of why i spend so much time on godfeels, a fucking homestuck fanfiction with no hope of turning a profit or establishing mainstream legitimacy, is that my readers actually ENGAGE with the material. what brought me back to using this website consistently was precisely the glut of godfeels-related questions i got, and the exciting conversations that resulted from my answers. meanwhile i put so many hours into my videos and even when they do well numerically, i barely see any actual engagement with the material. and that is a deliberate design choice on the part of youtube! that is the platform functioning as intended!! it sucks!!!

what the memory of cohost has instilled in me is a neverending distaste for the lazy unambitious also-rans that define the modern internet. i remember the possibility space of the early web and long for the expressiveness that even the most minor of utilities offered. we sacrificed that freedom for a convenience which was always the pretense for eventually charging us rent. i am thinking a lot these days about what a publicly funded government administrated social media utility would look like. what federal open source standards could look in an environment where the kinds of activities a digital ecosystem can encourage are strictly regulated against exploitation, bigotry, scams, and literal gambling. what if there was a unionized federal workforce devoted to the administration of internet moderation, which every website above a certain user threshold must legally take advantage of? i like to imagine a world where youtube isn't just nationalized but balkanized, where you have nested networks of youtubes administrated for different purposes by different agencies and organizations that operate on different paradigms of privacy and algorithmic interaction. imagine that your state, county, and/or city has its own branch of youtube meant to specifically highlight local work, while also remaining connected to a broader national network (oops i just reinvented federation lmao). imagine a world where server capacity is a publicly owned utility apportioned according to need and developed in collaboration with the communities of their construction rather than as a deliberate exploitation of them. our horizons for these kinds of things are just so, so small, our ability to imagine completely captured by capitalist realism, our willingness to demand services from our government simply obliterated by decades of cynical pro-austerity propaganda. i imagine proposing some of this stuff and people reacting like "well that's unrealistic" "that'll never happen" "they'd just use it for evil" and i am just SO! FUCKING! TIRED!!!!

like wow you're soooooo cool for being effectively two steps left of reagan, i bet you think prison abolition and free public housing are an impossible pipedream too huh? and exactly what has that attitude gotten you? what've you gained by being such a down to earth realist whose demands are limited by the scope of what seems immediately possible? has anything gotten better? have any of the things you thought were good stayed good? is your career more stable, your political position more safe, your desire to live and thrive greatly expanded? or do you spend every day in a cascading panopticon of stress and collapse, overwhelmed to the point of paralysis by the sheer magnitude of what it's cost us to abandon the future? you HAVE to dream. you HAVE to make unrealistic demands. the fucking conservatives have been making unrealistic demands forever and look, they're getting everything they want even though EVERYONE hates them for it! please i'm begging you to see and understand that what's feasible, what's reasonable, what's realistic, are literally irrelevant. these things only feel impossible because we choose to believe The Adults (and if you're younger than like 45, trust me, to the ruling class you are a child) whose bank accounts reflect just how profitable it is to convince us that they're impossible. all those billions of dollars these fuckers have didn't come from nowhere, it was stolen from all of us. there is no reason that money can't and shouldn't be seized and recirculated back into the economy, no reason it can't be used to fund a society that is actually social, where technological development is driven not by what's most likely to drive up profits next quarter but by what people need from technology in their daily lives.

uh so yeah basically that's my opinion of cohost lmao

[mysteryanimator]

Thought process of Powerful Predatory Deadly Fan-Animatic

(Aka I ramble about how I went about storyboarding this because i have many thoughts)

I haven't done this in a proper while, where I just vomit out how I went about doing this kind of stuff (more so animation) to track progress! I stopped doing it because the self doubt worms were being really loud, but these are fun, so we're bringing this back (maybe)!

“Mystery there’s no way you thought and did all this in the span of 2 weeks with breaks ON TOP OF UNIVERSITY-“ Objection, hyperfixation and the drive to improve is absurd. Not only is this really enjoyable to me that I actively make sure I carve out time for it, but I also want to make sure I strive to do my best at all times. I want to be like my online peers and mutuals :D

(This was me streaming the process to my friends so I could lock in)

This is going to be different from all the other breakdowns because this is not an analysis; this is more of a personal run-through of how I went about it and how I am reflecting upon it! How I storyboard now is very different from how I used to approach it. By all means, I know there could’ve been stronger shot choices, better pacing, etc. There's a lot to improve on, but suffice it to say, between January to now, the difference is night and day.

This will be way more casual and more just a blabber of thoughts. This also means a huge chunk of it is just me word vomiting, which also means if the grammar is somewhat off, I apologise in advance.

Before we start with the actual shots, we have to go through

✨ iteration process and research ✨

While I do have a script, the story beats were as follows:

1. Tera and Mizrak meet in the forest (intent to 'lure out' Olrox via Mizrak)

2. Fight (put pressure heavily on Mizrak)

3. Mizrak says something that reignites Tera's grief and humanity

4. Tera momentarily loses herself, allowing Mizrak to get the upper hand, only to lose it a second later

5. Tera says/does something that reignites Mizrak's fear and humanity

6. Olrox appears, therefore ending the fight/scene

I initially went in with the mindset of this being a somewhat even fight (in every single script draft, Mizrak loses tho LOL). This meant that for me, at least, to keep the fight visually interesting was to have both characters move very differently. For Tera, I looked at ice skaters, ballet, and lyrical because I have a personal preference when fights look like a dance; it’s my most favourite thing ever. It also just establishes from the get-go Tera’s composure and control before I eventually had to break it and make the contrast that much more harrowing.

Mizrak was always going to be rough compared to Tera. I thought an interesting fighting style would be Arnis, a Filipino martial art style that uses sticks or improvised weapons for self defence and combat, which would be a fun a way to extend use of Mizrak's nails (also me, Filipino, just a wanted to finally have an excuse to board it). This would be combined with Muy Thai, break dancing and tinkling (that is so fucking cool for dodging ice). It also kind of already flows into Mizrak's melee sword style because it's very 'wooshy', and I noticed he does a ton of curve-up/down and follows the line of action from his sword. I digress, though.

As you can tell, the action shifted from a somewhat balanced 1-v-1 fight to a "this isn't a fight, this is a trap". This was paired with the horror aspect I was leaning into, which meant I disregarded a ton of my research. However, all the fight styles were not completely lost. They still find themselves using those techniques! Mizrak has shifted to just kind of doing defensive drills without sticks/nails to cement how he’s not used to dealing with magic fights, and he can't repurpose the ice that hits him because it shatters on impact. Tera, I'm not 100% sure if this was the right call for this, but I ended up just making her from the waist down really still until she lept forward. This was to make her seem very inhuman, controlled, and calculated like a predator (wow title) because:

"You've been stalking me for a month. What the fuck do you want?"

I felt like I had to showcase that and give that line proper weight. Like she knew beat for beat what she was doing, purposefully aiming for Mizrak's arms, knowing they'd shatter, throw him off guard, and pin him. Again, I'm not sure if it was the right call, but I wanted it to make it doomed from the start.

This is where I now delve into media-specific research. Since action is not a particularly strong suit, how to actually capture action on screen was challenging BUT fun. So with the addition of the storyboard classes I took (Ae Ri Yoon and Danny Araya are both wonderful teachers, and I learnt sooooo much; their classes are amazing. Ae Ri Yoon runs a class each season so definitely check her out if you want to do action!!) I did research into Legend of Korra. Specifically metal/water/ice bending. I limited it to just ice, cutting out the fire ability because I saw the potential to further the rhetoric of the lack of humanity/warmth in Tera's life. While I'm still not entirely happy with the core fight itself and not very confident about how it was captured, it is a step in the right direction into strengthening that skill. Only with time and more precision I get better at it presumably, LOL.

Even though a huge chunk of actual research went into just staring at LOK and filling my fyp with copious amounts of MMA fighters, I did want to lean onto horror. Often, when I’m doing uni assignments, I have a ton of video essays/films playing as background noise, and for a long while, it has been gothic/folk/religious horror media. After realising the potential of doing 'horror' due to dabbling in it for the Rabbits animatic, I set to properly delve into making this one horror adjacent. While horror/fear is subjective, and I knew I couldn't do true horror justice (also, this is an action scene), I still wanted to take the visual tension they do. I took inspiration from Mike Flannigan and Robert Eggers' work, The Ritutal, along with video games such as Silent Hill, Resident Evil, and the American McGee's Alice franchise. There's probably way more I'm missing out on, but this was simply a mosaic of all the stuff I love in all fairness.

The video essay "The Fear of Transformation" by ProfessionalViral, while it discusses Tokyo Ghoul, made me deeply think of Tera and Mizrak and what I could visually convey about the tragedy of still being human on the inside yet facing the consequences of being a 'monster. ' Unfortunately, that video has been copyrighted to hell and bac,k but it stuck with me a lot and made me still push really heavily on focusing on portraying Tera and Mizrak's anguish, so the "action" of it got smaller and smaller.

✨ process time ✨

I’ll briefly run over how I actually went about it.

For this, I did some explorative thumbnails, and some of them did stick around to the final- such as the framing box shots and Tera's ending monologue. Once I felt confident enough, I laid down roughs or just text placements, knowing what should be happening but not knowing how to visualise it. Some will be sentences, others will be WHOLE PARAGRAPHS just detailing the meaning behind a scene and what specific mood I want. With this board, I ended up jumping around a lot, never solely linearly going from beginning to end. Also, my roughs can be absurdly rough or absurdly clean, which is very funny.

(like dude what)

Also, I wasn't supposed to do shadows/lighting but also this is horror adjacent. I feel like it establishes the more eerie tone I wanted to go for :D

Fun fact: many of the forest shots came from me scoping out irl places for compositions/nature literally any time I went outside. While yes, I had very specific compositions in mind, actually running around was very helpful to figure out the space and understand perspective better since I do struggle with it from time to time🫰

now the moment y'all have probably been waiting for

✨shot breakdowns✨

While I'm not going to go through every scene for this to let people have more free reign to interpret each shoy as they wish, I sat with each individual shot for sooooo long. Trying to figure out why and when to cut, what story beats motivate for entirely new camera positions, etc. Especially with action, it is a new territory for me.

Split diopters!

This was a thing I wanted to play with as it commonly occurs in The Haunting of Bly Manor! Here, I've linked a video essay, but it should take you straight to the section talking about split diopters in the show. If that doesn't work, it is at 41:45!

As Haunting of Bly Manor uses it to highlight empty space, I also wanted to do that to create not only that same unease, but give Tera an immense amount of power over Mizrak even though she's not there, especially in the subsequent shot where a hugeee amount of of the space just nothing but trees, as Mizrak stands closed off with the house.

This here basically answers Mizrak question of "what the fuck do you want?"

Tera is here to dismandle the comforts of homely life for Olrox, which happens to include Mizrak. To get Olrox out of his comfort zone means also taking Mizrak out of it. Also, I wanted to convey that Mizrak is clocking what Tera is putting down, so he's positioned as if he's defending the house. This is also why I wanted to cut to a close-up.

This also becomes a nice moment to come back to because I reuse a very similar set up when Olrox gets introduced into this animatic.

Also, yes, that is a box; it's not a Myst animatic if there are no boxes/framing devices. While the boxes are still somewhat suffocating, as most boxed framing is, each windowed frame communicates wildly different things. Every single character who appears in this animatic has a full body in a specific frame, including Tera.

What I planned to communicate was the following:

Mizrak - He acts as one of the pillars to box in the house rather than being within the frame itself, implying stability and structure. This showcases how he wants to defend the house, however, it also establishes he's the 'weakest' amongst the three characters in this animatic because he's off to the side.

Tera - While using someone else's body as a frame, most of the time, it usually means the other person has more power. It's flipped on its head this time because it all the shots before this one have characters off-center to suddenly being dead in the middle. This breaks up the pattern and therefore breaks up our initial understanding of what's going on (hopefully). Therefore, it creates a lot of tension and unease. Also, Mizrak's legs practically go in the row of the trees, as he's lined up, which is where Tera wants him to be because Mizrak is now predictable. Tera has been stalking Mizrak for a month, as stated before, so she knows Mizrak's patterns and repetitive actions, like the trees showcased.

Olrox - He basically combines both Tera's and Mizrak's boxed frame. He's set off to the side like Mizrak; however, he's in the center of the hole in the wall. He also basically makes the frame himself by using the skulls and he blocks the only exit out of the house, creating an imposing force that puts Tera into a box off to the side. Also, if you compare the Olrox shot with the "(OS) Not exactly" shot, Olrox is placed where the house is, so it really really cements down that this is what Tera/Mephistopheles/Old Man Coyote/"Some other name" was after. It can also suggest a ton of other things relating to Olrox's relationship with Mizrak.

This was very very fun way to establish the character's power dynamics.

While sharing a WIP of the early script, someone mentioned Mizrak's line directly to Tera, and I just had to do a direct comparison. Tera should be allowed to mock him (everything changed for me when Tera was a lot more sassy towards Emmanuel; that was so fun to see that side of her, so I wanted to channel that here).

This camera truck from Tera to Mizrak was really fun! It helped to quickly establish the gist of the fight, with Tera being much larger that she doesn't fit the screen while Mizrak is way in the back and is really small. It also establishes that Tera is intentionally putting pressure on Mizrak to move back because it means they're getting closer to the house.

I also from the getgo wanted to just give a sense of impending traedgy that Mizrak is so fucked. He is losing this fight no matter what; that's the horror aspect of it. Rather than focusing on the horror for the audience, it's the horror for Mizrak that would hopefully seep into the audience because, presumably, I've gotten people to connect with Mizrak before this fight has commenced. Basically, my statement here is, "We're watching a man try to vie for his life." Not only does Mizrak ALMOST DIE, but the sanctity of the home is destroyed. Olrox is the sole reason Tera didn't accidentally overcommit to her grief and rage.

This shot was fun, I feeel like i could've keyed it out more BUT I like what this shot tells. It basically cements Mizrak into a trap and gives him no exit. There's also a momentary pause JUST before Mizrak does a spin around as if he is calculating what to do next but Tera already anticipated it.

Dutch angleeeee as it moves from a close up to a full body, and then we have the contrasting circular motion of the icicles against the straight line of Tera. This was also a very fun shot as it basically establishes how powerful she is and how much control over this entire fight she has. Also dutch angles not only appear more "dynamic" but it also shifts the balance to be uneven to cement how uneven this fight is.

My friend pointed out how this shorthand of Mizrak was just his chest, which is the funniest thing ever because I genuinely didn't know how else to shorthand him, because this is a hahaha what if season 3 had a Tera Mizrak face-off? He'd be wearing different clothes.

This was fun to showcase that while yes Mizrak is a vampire and supernatural, this feels really human, very much still a beginner at this new life (because vampirism in a queer context can mean self-acceptance of what you consider taboo). This was one of the shots I knew I had to keep grounded. Not entirely sure if it was the right call, but I wanted to showcase him being worn down and thought that this was a good way to portray it.

Also, if you watch carefully, all of this is calculated by Tera because again: "If you're worried, I'm not here to kill, and I'm not here for you."

In both of my storyboard classes, they mentioned something about having your "wow" moment. This was one of the intentional ones!

I'm glad people gasped and went, "oh shitttt", alongside the other mizrak eye shots I'll talk about a little bit later. It holds for a bit longer in an uncomfortable way. In a way, it has you questioning what's going to happen next as you grip your chair in fear (hopefully).

I also tossed up the idea of making Mizrak yell/scream, but I wanted to hold off until we got to the second important eye shot of Mizrak. So here, I hopefully gave off the impression of Mizrak trying to maintain control even though he's absolutely terrified. He's in adrenaline mode.

The Jesus implications :D not only do we have the very well-known puncture wounds in the hands, but we have wounds to the left side of his body! I was very close to puncturing his feet to really cement that connection and make it more horrifying how Mizrak was trapped, but I needed them free so he could land a metaphorical/physical gut punch to Tera later on.

In this instance, Jesus and Mizrak knew they were going to die, but they went through with it anyway. I also thought it would be visually interesting that Tera, the sacrificial ram, would be perscuting Mizrak to the cross. Allowing people to infer as they wish from it because that is very heavy symbolism.

I kept ending up doing a lot of cuts to close-ups in this fight, which I don't inherently love, HOWEVER, this fight is extremely emotionally loaded. It was very important to me to capture the faces of the characters, especially when they start verbally wounding each other.

To mirror Mizrak's shot to Tera was sooo important to convey the idea that Mizrak's words really tug deep into Tera, also helping to visualise the fact that if this was to be ever animated, for a few seconds- her vampire pointed ears get hidden and her eyes are shown off properly and it is as if we regain Tera back. For the majority of the scenes, I just intentionally blacked out where Tera's eyes were or just obscured her face a ton with hair.

I'm sure there are more ways to explicitly share their deep, vulnerable human moments besides close-ups, but for now, this is just what I've got, and with time and experimenting more, I'm sure I'll break out of this repetition.

Then we get the GUT PUNCH.

This was important because this is Mizrak's single and only physical attack against Tera, which on paper is REALLY FUNNY, but the mere mention of Maria disarms Tera, translating into Mizrak being able to fight back. I considered him kicking Tera to make you physically wince or some other thing, but I just went for the knee jab into the stomach because it felt the most like a "punch to the gut".

I also just needed another shot that wasn't a close-up. I needed something to pull you out of the close, intimate moment because Tera and Mizrak barely share the same screen space on purpose. It's an uneven fight; they're never going to be level and grounded in the same space, being really disconnected. HOWEVER, was this the best way to portray this disconnect and uneven balance? I'm not entirely sure.

This was me experimenting with switching to two backgrounds and pinning characters to the camera! I thought it was also a nice way to transition from Tera's initial loss and then seeing a gradual but quick switch up, which I thought matched well with this type of camera move.

Admittedly, I got really stuck on how to get Mizrak into the air and create build up for. It was very important to get to this shot. Like, I love how this shot looks and feels, but the build-up before it doesn't feel all the way there (personally) THOUGH, this became a point of i was fully stuck, and I just had to move on. This is supposed to feel like the final blow/strike within the fight before Tera begins to go overkill when they get to the house. Like here, she's won the fight, especially paired with fact that this goes in 'slow mo' and the subsequent scenes are Mizrak smashing into the house.

Which, by the way, THAT WAS SO FUN CAPTURING THAT. While I do realise now I could've made it way more gnarly and have him tumble/hurt more to really push for that Mizrak was completely outmatched, I think this was still cool regardless (I was consuming invincible boards to figure this out lol).

THIS WAS SO FUN.

The Tera monologue was actually one of the first things I planned out, and this close-up shot was important to me to see Mizrak's struggle. Not only was the hand piercing supposed to be one the iconic moments in this fight, Tera turning Mizrak's tears into icicles was also planned to be one of those moments.

Not only is it just cool (pun intended), but it's also directly showcasing how Tera is physically weaponizing his fear and humanity. Much like how Mizrak dug deep into Tera's grief and humanity when mentioning Maria to cause a literal gut punch, Tera is just returning the favor. Just ten times worse, you know. After this, we pair with a tonnnn of extreme closeups and quick cuts to get more of that chaotic feel as if Mizrak's attention is jumping between multiple different things to try and find a way to get out, contrasting this long monologue Tera is going through.

Which Tera is talking about how loved and lucky Mizrak is. I love doing contrasting imagery to audio.

Seeing Olrox BEFORE we actually see him was very important to me here because it somehow breaks the initial tension whilst simultaneously elevating it tenfold. Especially since the line JUST BEFORE the purple glow is "you are far too spoiled by god", only for Olrox, who's straight up associated with Quetzalcoatl, a Mesoamerican deity, to APPEAR.

Also, by this point, Tera has completely WON. Not only has she disarmed Mizrak to feeling human and vulnerable, but she's also brought Olrox to his limit.

When Olrox's genuine appearance occurred, I wanted to do very pulled-out shots, completely contrasting the much more panicked, frantic close-ups. Even the skulls are super skill. Despite this, I still wanted to make it feel quite suffocating but presented it differently to showcase an even more elevated power. Olrox is stronger than both Tera and Mizrak, and he displays that power. Olrox here is grounded, which is why we get 'establishing shots'. Not entirely sure if this is the right term since this isn't the start of a new location/sequence, but it is here to establish the new tone and properly ground us to the setting.

Also, intentionally, I'm not allowing you to see Mizrak. I'm stooping it in mystery (pun intended) to make people question if he's alright or not, and for the rest of the animatic, you just never see his face. I'm ripping that connection from you to make you sit in worry and, therefore, place you in the same headspace as Olrox.

Wow more closeups of side profiles, Myst (im sorry im a sucker for them but I swear it works here... I think)

This was fun because Tera and Olrox understand each other here, but they don't ever look each other in the eye/acknowledge each other's physical presence. Again, going back onto verbally wounding like what Mizrak does, except this one is way more subtle and controlled because again, Tera and Olrox amictably understand each other. They both understand how they are so interwoven with the ones they are loved by, so they know their places are not to kill each other. There's a lot of power in having Olrox let Tera enter the scene and exit it without moving. Double fun fact: the wall in the background have direct lines that Tera crosses over. This is meant to visualise how Tera is really testing Olrox, especially paired with Tera jabbing back at how love in the vampire is a dangerous thing to hold. This makes them both somehow be on the same level playing field, which is why I went for this specific shot of their side profiles back to back (and also why they both have the hair thing that goes across their face)

Holding on this shot was fun, too, because it's akin to holding your breath due to the tension. Any sudden movements and everything falls apart. It's a race to see who breaks first, which ends up being Olrox as we see how his skulls kind of flicker for a moment before dissipating as he looks in horror for Mizrak, which we don't get the luxury of seeing.

And we're done with the shots :D

✨ animatic editing ✨

So I know this portion I don't have to do, but also,

a) It makes the animatic feel that much fully rounded for general viewing

b) I have a background in media analysis and production. I miss doing the production part, like editing LOL

While admittedly I am a much weaker editor/ audio mixer, this was still a fun challenge! This was more self-indulgent than anything.

A fun note is that originally, Duo Seraphim by Monteverdi was going to be the music because it fit sooooo well, especially since a third singer joins later. However, the vibes did not work, and I just stuck to Powerful Predatory Deadly from the Nocturne soundtrack because that also fit really well for the haunting vibes. Also, Tera humming at the beginning was majorly inspired by Death from Puss in Boots: The Last Wish but also other villains who have melodic motifs to signal if they're in a scene before visually seeing them. It is soooo fun. This was also because I wanted it to contrast with how you sense Olrox's presence first with colour (also with an electric hum, but it's not distinct).

Ok now im done. This was supposed to be unserious so i could truly cool down from this animatic. I'm glad people liked this and also that people really enjoyed watching me improve over the last two months, it is superrrr appreciated! The sky is the limit and I know I do have much to improve on, but the final effect of getting people to have takeaways from these animatics and to actually feel something is fantastic. It means I'm definitely going in the right direction :D

Again, thank you guys for reading this really lengthy ramble!! Closing my eyes as i share this and immediately running lol

[theriverbeyond]

how do we know in the books that john is indigenous? can you say more about how his indigeneity is important to his story?

hello! so there is a word of god post on race (doesn't mention John but mentions that Gideon is "mixed Maori"), BUT I frankly don't think word of god statements are worth any weight without actual in-text support (see: the "dumbledore is gay" situation). SO!

Specific evidence that John Gaius is Maori, as revealed in Nona the Ninth:

When he is listing his education, John mentions having gone to Dilworth School (John 20:8). Dilworth is an all boys boarding school in Auckland and accepts students based on financial need instead of academic or sporting achievements. Demographics appear to be about 70% low income Maori boys, indicating that it is highly likely that John is Maori

John reports that P- said he looked like a "Maori-TV pink panther" (John 15:23) when his eyes turned gold. Maori TV is a TV station that is focused primarily on Maori culture & language revitalization, with presumably all or mostly Maori hosts, and tbh I don't see why P- would say this unless John was himself Maori

John uses a te reo Māori phrase ("kia kaha, kia māia") (John 5:20) when he is saying goodbye to the corpses in the cryo lab before the power is shut off. Though it is possible he said this as a non-Maori kiwi, but in combination with the previous two points of evidence I think this all very strongly points to him being Maori

He also renames his daughter Kiriona Gaia, "Kiriona" being just literally the name "Gideon" in te reo Māori

TLT is not a series that hands you anything on a silver platter but to ME this is all pretty solid proof

Why is this relevant to The Locked Tomb?

In Nona the Ninth, we learn that before he completed apotheosis and ate the solar system, John was basically trying to save the earth from capitalism-caused climate change. Climate justice and the rights of indigenous people over their own land are deeply tied together, in the same way that climate catastrophe and capitalism/ imperialism/ colonialism are linked. disclaimer that this is NOT my area of study and others have definitely said it better; this is just the basic gist as I understand it, but on quick search I found some sources here and here if you want to do some reading.

TLT is not a series that hands you anything on a silver platter, but i don't think it is a stretch to see John as an indigenous man trying to save the earth and getting ignored and shut down at every turn by primarily western colonial powers (PanEuro, the USA) who declare him a terrorist and then as a reader thematically connecting that to the experience of indigenous climate activists IRL

there are absolutely TLT meta posts that have discussed this before me; tumblr search is nonfunctional and I have been looking for an hour and a half and cannot find anything specific even though i KNOW i reblogged multiple posts about this in the first few weeks following NTN's release. sad & I am sorry

I think that by the time the books take place, John is 10k years removed from the cultural context he grew up in, with the Nine Houses having become a genocidal colonial power in their own right (with more parallels to be made between John's forever war for the resources of literal life energy and like, oil wars), but I also think that John Gaius is a fictional character who can represent and symbolize multiple different things in service of telling a story. (not to mention the potential thematic parallels being made to how oppressed people sometimes are pressed into replicating the power dynamics of their oppressors and continuing the cycle--now that is a tumblr post i KNOW i read last year and definitely cannot find right now, once again sad & I am sorry)

How Radical Was John Gaius, Really is a forum thread that was locked by the moderators after 234534645674564 pages of heated debate

[wardenparker]

The Unbearable Weight of Perfection, ch 5

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When an accident of fate throws Javi G into the path of his soulmate, his instinct is to dive in head first. Adjusting to life as the fated partner of someone you barely know is going to be harder than either of you suspect, but anything worth having is worth working for. Isn't it?

(This story is heavily inspired by the lovely house museums that I work in every day and the fantastic few months that HBO was using our houses to film a TV show in fall! I spent each day on that set in wonder and I can't wait to share the experience with all of you through this story.)

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 11.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, references to abusive family members -- i.e. Lucas, discussion of money/finances.* Financial disparity, a well intentioned surprise, fluff, friends, flirting with your spouse. Summary: Javi solves a problem with a grandiose surprise, and you're not sure how you feel about it at first. Notes: After a brief hiatus we are back! My laptop has been replaced and we should be smooth sailing from here. Happy Sunday, my lovelies!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4

Thursday, May 1, 2025 

"Mrs. G, can we get you on set please?" The production assistant that works with Javi to make sure he has everything he needs and is wherever he needs to be has also been assigned to you in the month since work on the film started. Luckily Kyle is a nice kid and enthusiastic, and doesn't mind that he reliably has to knock loudly to make sure he doesn't walk in on the newlyweds in some sort of state of passion. 

"Sure, honey."

Javi has been on set for a little while already so you pocket your phone and hop up from your chair to head inside. The schedule for today has them shooting in just one room, but it's the main character's bedroom and the scene is the first of the clandestine love affair that is being shot. It makes sense that Tamara and Jason might have historical context questions. 

The halls of the great house are lined with rolls of cardboard – RAM board, they call it – to protect the precious antique wood and easily scratch floors. Whole pieces of the architecture like columns are wrapped up in it to shoulder height, and while the look of it was odd and off putting at first, it's familiar now. Like Hazelwood House has been wrapped up in a sort of temporary blanket to keep it safe. 

Up to the second floor and into the south wing of the house, you find Javi sitting with the two actors on an armchair and chaise lounge by the fireplace, staring at the footed panel in front of it. It still jars you to see the cast lounging on exact replicas of Hazelwood's furniture, but it's only because the museum rules (No touching!) have combined with a slight jealousy in your head. The furniture in this house really is fantastic.

“Sweetheart.” As soon as you come into the room, Javi is lighting up, his eyes widen with sparkling happiness as he quickly stands. Moving towards you to meet you halfway in the room, although he refrains from kissing you since he had been told you might not like it at work. “Hey handsome.” Even murmured softly into the air between you as Javi wraps his arms around you for a quick hug, you feel a little more relaxed just being in the same place as him. “You called and I came. How can I help?”

“We have a question about the fireplace.” Even if he doesn’t kiss you, his fingers caress your wrist lovingly as he turns you towards the object in question. “What is this and why is it here?” He asks, pointing to a wood and fabric screen that could not be utilized while there is a fire crackling in the hearth. While Hazelwood has been extremely accommodating, there was to be no real fires in the hearths due to some of the chimneys being blocked off and the risk of an out of control fire being too great. All of the fires would be added by CGI in post production but Javi had noticed the screens still in front of the hearth and needed to know if they would risk it during a fire or if it would be moved and what purpose it served.

"That is a fire screen." The warm radiance of him standing next to you is a fire unto itself and it's a pity you're on set instead of in your shared trailer so you can't melt into him.

"Like...for embers?" Jason asks, brow furrowed. "But it's wood." 

"And cloth!" Tamara objects. 

"I know." You manage to stifle a laugh, but you had the same thought the first time you saw them. "It's technically the predecessor to today's metal fire screens. In function, it's the same. But the main focus here was in keeping direct flame off of people's faces." Shrugging slightly at how silly it might sound to a modern person is the best you can do. "Being flush from the fire or getting any kind of color was looked down on. The paler your complexion, the more obvious it is that you don't have to work or exert yourself in any way."

“So warming the room but not over exposing them to the flames.” Javi frowns slightly. “So they would have the fire going and having the screen in front of it?” He asks, tilting his head towards you for the answer. “We want to make sure we get the shot right.”

"If you want the shot without the screen in place, there could be a throwaway remark about Tamara being flush?" You suggest, chewing your lip as you tilt your head up at him.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” Javi looks between the principal cast and then over at the director. “Do you?”

"Screen will be better without live flames." The director hums after a minute of thinking. "Won't have to work as hard on manufacturing the look of the fire. We'll keep the screen."

Javi smiles as he looks back at you. “Thank you for your expertise.” He hums, reaching for your hand to kiss the back of it.

"Do you mind if I stay to watch?" The filming process is slow but fascinating to you, and these people – with the small exceptions of the egotistical producers and snobbish director – are very fun to spend time with. It's much more fun to be here on set even with the slow progress, than it is to be in your trailer.

Javi is immediately nodding. “Yes.” He agrees, knowing that no one will argue with him. He’s had carte blanche on set, especially after making some re-writes that everyone swears will clench the Oscars in multiple categories.

"Yes I can stay?" You melt into a soft smile and wish that the aforementioned snobby director weren't in the room so you could kiss him. "Thank you. I'd much rather be here."

He smiles and squeezes your hand. “You can be wherever I am.” He promises, not caring if the director would rather you not be on set. He’s a little stiff and Javi can tell he doesn’t exactly approve of your soulmate status for whatever reason, but he doesn’t care.

"Come sit!" Tamara pats the chaise lounge beside her immediately. Since everything that happened on that first day, she's been an eager and bubbly friend. "We might need you for something else."

Javi smirks as he lets go of your hand so you can sit down next to your friend. “Did you run your errand like you needed?” He asks you, knowing you had been wanting to take care of something.

"I did." Though it wasn't exactly fun or easy. "The bus was running a little late but I managed to get everything done and sent off my sister's birthday present." You may not be close, but she's still your sister.

“You did not take the car?” Javi frowns immediately at you, sure that he had given you his keys before rushing off to the set this morning.

"I'm okay with the bus while my car is in the shop," you promise him. "And the car from the studio always brings you home, so there was no need to worry about that." Having a driver is a very helpful convenience, especially for Javi who likes to use the drive to prepare for the work day. Since your car has been in the shop for three days now, you've just been going to and from the studio with him, but this morning you needed to get to the post office. He had handed you the keys to his luxury sports car like it was nothing, but the mere thought of anything happening to the expensive automobile had you using a bus pass instead.

He’s not happy with your answer, and Tamara and Jason both grin as they watch the interaction between you. “Honey, what’s wrong with your car?” She huffs, hoping to distract.

"So far?" You let out a huff of a laugh. The director has gone to get a cup of coffee so you have a little time to breathe. "The engine. Just...in general."

Javi opens his mouth and then closes it. Deciding that he will take care of things and pulls out his phone.

Seeing your husband duck behind his phone with a look of concentration isn't unusual, so you pay it no mind and keep chatting lightly with Tamara. The cast had invited you and Javi to join them for drinks after shooting on Friday night and you're excited to go.

Javi doesn’t look up from his phone until the director comes back. “Clear the set.” He calls out and Javi pops up out of his chair. “Let’s go watch from the sidelines.”

There are a half dozen chairs set up in the hall behind the camera monitors for watching, and one of them bears Javi’s name. You hop up into the one beside him to hold his hand during the rehearsal of the scene before it gets filmed. “Everything okay, love?” You ask, not wanting to pry about whatever he was doing on his phone but still checking in.

“Perfect.” Javi tells you, looking over at you with a giddy smile. “Just taking care of something.”

“Something exciting?” You guess, but leave it at that.

“I think so, but it might be a little boring.” He admits with a chuckle. “We will see tomorrow.”

“Nothing you do is ever boring.” Surprising, frequently, and often lovely. But never boring.

“You would be surprised.” He grins proudly, squeezing your hand and the lifting it to kiss the back of it right as the director yells “Action!”

The scene is full of tension, but it has to be done angle by angle so the many takes come one after another in slow succession. Nothing seems to be done quickly in the movie industry, that's been obvious to you since day one.

He sees you shift in your chair and he leans over. “It can be so boring at times.” He murmurs in your ear. “I asked Nick how he doesn’t scream sometimes with so many takes.”

"I think it's fascinating," you admit, whispering back to make sure you don't disturb anything. "Watching how one gesture or a change of inflection can transform the whole scene? It's stunning."

He chuckles and hums softly, loving how you are enjoying yourself as you watch them reset the scene again. “Sometimes art takes time to perfect.” He admits. “First takes are like rough drafts.”

“Like the muslin before a gown.” In the days that you had dreamed of designing clothes, those rough muslin forms had been such loving work on the floor of your bedroom at home.

He tilts his head and tries to understand what you are meaning. “Muslin? The fabric that they used for undergarments?”

You nod, somehow managing to keep the giggle out of your voice so it won’t carry. “I was taught to design clothing by making a muslin form first. Like a rough draft. To make sure the design works before cutting into the expensive fabric and whatnot.”

“You make clothes?” That’s a new fun fact he didn’t know about you and he lights up as he memorizes it. “So that is why you have been the in costume trailer a lot?”

“I used to.” The light in your eyes dims ever so slightly, but you keep smiling. He doesn’t know all the ways that your art was taken from you. Piece by piece.

“Why did you stop?” He frowns, sensing the way there is a shift in your mood. It’s slight, but your hand stiffens in his.

“My parents,” you tell him, honestly despite it being harsh. “My step-dad convinced my mom that art school was pointless. So they refused to pay for it. I ended up studying history instead.” Which has worked out for you, obviously, and you do love it. But if you had been able to study fashion the way you wanted? Maybe you would be a textiles conservator or a costumer for a living history museum by now. Who knows?

“That is not right.” Javi immediately defends you. “You should have been able to study whatever you wished.�� He feels passionately about that, since he was also shoehorned into a role he didn’t not want in his own family.

"Well, I agree, but there's nothing we can do about it now." The best you can do is shrug, having put the dream aside a long time ago. Maybe one of these days you'll look into getting a second-hand or lower end sewing machine. Make yourself a few things, or even make them as gifts. Javi would probably jump so far into the idea that he'd suggest one of the rooms in your now-oft-dreamt-about future house be a sewing room. He's very sweet like that. Maybe you'll ask for your birthday, but that's in the future.

He is about to suggest that you go back to school, but he doesn’t want to make it seem like he’s hoping you quit your job. Selfishly, he likes having you right here every day. “Maybe one day you can show me what you’ve designed?”

"Maybe..." You nudge his shoulder slightly, cheeks warm from the compliment of his interest. "I'll dig out my old sketchbooks tonight? If you really want to see."

“Yes.” Javi immediately answers, grinning when you giggle slightly. “I want to see all of them. Do you have them at the cottage or do we need to go back to your apartment?” The move has been day by day, you deciding what you want to do with your furniture but your most pressing items already in the cottage alongside his own.

"We should stop at the cottage on the way home, if that's okay?" As usual, the studio's driver will be taking you, but he never seems to mind making a small detour before leaving Santa Barbara. The ride back down the coast to the house – or cottage, as Javi calls it – is always a nice way to relax together after a work day.

“Absolutely.” He nods and smiles. “What do you want to do for dinner?”

"Maybe I can cook tonight?" He often likes to go out or have something delivered, and that's lovely. But tonight you like the idea of having a domestic night at home with your husband. After all, it's not like you lack for groceries. Or anything.

“Do you need anything?” He immediately wonders which is the closest store to the cottage, or if you would prefer one near your old apartment.

"We have a full kitchen, love." You promise him with a kiss to his cheek. "I already know what I'm going to make."

“I thought that was all the charcuterie items you wanted for the dinner with Nick and Olivia?” He had been warned away from the fridge drawers, making him pout as he searched for late night snacks.

"There is more than just snacks, my love." He had simply bypassed the steaks, brussels sprouts, potatoes, and assorted other ingredients in the kitchen because he isn't very interested in cooking just in general. That's perfectly fine, of course, but it means warning him off the things he can snack on without cooking them if you've bought them for a particular reason.

“Oh.” He rolls his eyes at himself and nods. “Only if you want to cook.” He hums. “You might be tired after work.”

In truth, it amounts to wanting to do something sweet for him because he does so much for you. Javi gives and gives and takes pride in it, but even with the generous pay from the studio your income doesn't come close to his. 

Do you share bank accounts now? Of course. He had a credit card opened on his account in your name. But so far you've only used it for groceries or household necessities. Anything else feels...greedy. 

"I won't be, mi amor," you promise him, setting those thoughts aside and resolving to make a nice dinner for you and your soulmate.

“We should build one of those kitchen outdoors.” He mentions causally, as if he’s talking about a simple weekend project. “Since you like to cook. I’ve seen some amazing ones. We could have it next to the pool.” The pool is currently being dug next to the cottage. In front of it actually. Wanting you to swim whenever you want, it’s now become a priority.

"We could definitely do that." In between takes now, you no longer have to whisper. At least for a short time. And that means you lean a little more into Javi's side and breathe a happy sigh. "It would be great for parties."

“Good!” He has expected you to huff about the idea, since it would be expensive and you seem to be determined to not spend his money. “Why don’t we talk to the architect?”

"We have a meeting next week. Why don't we add it to the things we want to talk to her about?" The quiet reason you're not immediately downplaying this idea is that you can immediately imagine having pool parties for your future children out there, with the patio bustling and a little outdoor kitchen right at hand. It makes you feel so dreamy that you just can't say no.

“Perfect.” Now that the director as given them the slight changes he wants to the scene, he moves back behind the camera and calls for silence on the set again.

There is nothing but utter silence in the hallway during the actual take. You cuddle into Javi's side and just watch the monitor. Having him close even without talking is a special kind of intimacy and one that you're starting to find that you love. The atmosphere of the set can be so tense at times that these little moments of intimacy feel stolen.

The wheels in Javi’s brain are starting to spin and he hums to himself as an idea for another script jumps to life. Even as he watches his latest being brought to the screen in front of him.

It’s a beautifully done scene, one full of yearning and those first pangs of something new that make your heart ache for the characters. Javi’s script is sensational on its own but Tamara and Jason are so good together that you almost feel like you’re intruding on their privacy just by watching the monitor. Which is absolutely as it should be.

Javi plays with your rings while he watches the scene. Knowing it by heart, he’s seen it in his head for so long, it’s almost boring to see it now. Thinking about that new idea as he grins to himself.When “Cut!” is called again, you nudge his jaw with your nose flash him a grin. “It’s a beautiful script, love.”

"Huh?" He is started out of his musings and he glances at you in confusion. "Oh, uh, thank you." He realizes what you are talking about and he grins. "Sorry, I was thinking about something else."

“Is everything okay?” He hasn’t mentioned being out of sorts or unwell or anything, but you still ask. Javi is, as they say, a dreamer. He might be far off in an imaginary land right now just as easily as he might be worrying about something.

“Everything is good.” He smiles again so you don’t worry. “I have an idea for a new script.”

“Really?” Your eyes light up in surprise. “A new idea already?”

“Umm hmm.” Your surprised delight makes him so much more appreciative of the support you’ve already shown him. “I need to jot some rough ideas for the timeline down.”

"I already can't wait." And you can't believe that he could come up with new ideas that fast, either. It seems like scripts should be so much harder to put together than just a single spark of an idea.

“Good.” He nods. “I will probably be asking you a million questions.”

"Oh?" That surprises you again, but as the director makes adjustments and gets ready to do another take, you sort of revel in the absurdity of the whole thing. You're living beyond your wildest dreams, after all. "And why will you be asking me questions, of all people?"

He smiles at you like the answer should be obvious and you are so sweet for not figuring it out. “Because it will be about you.” He hums and winks before looking back at the monitor as the scene is called to action.

You're still staring at him in abject confusion a full three minutes later when the director calls 'Cut!" again, and despite probably looking like a mad woman you don't feel any saner or closer to an answer. Which is why you end up blurting out "Why?" The second you're able to talk again.

Javi turns towards you again, wondering if you are upset at the idea of being his muse. For so long, anyone who learned of his desire to write movies would always beg to be his muse, sometimes even using seduction to try to sway him. You and Nick seem to be the only people that seemed uncomfortable by the idea, Nick because he wasn’t sure if it would work. “Art school.” He explains. “The impossible choice between honoring your parent’s wishes and following your heart.”

"Then I hope your character decides to do more with it than darn socks and mend thrifted clothes." There is worry on his face that you wish you could reach out and smooth away. Like a swipe of your thumb might lifts all of the clouds of concern right out of his mind. "I'm honored that you think I'm worth being inspired by, sweetheart."He bites his lip, trying to search your eyes to see if you are just being polite. “You should do more than darn socks or mend thrifted clothes.” He murmurs. “You should do what you want.”

"Maybe." He is disarmingly sweet. He has been since the day you met him, and a month of marriage has not dulled it in any way. "I was thinking of asking for a used sewing machine for my birthday this year. Since...I never really have anyone to ask but I hoped you might wonder what to get me?"

"A sewing machine." He is immediately committing that to memory and nodding. "You have me to ask now." He promises, deciding that he will throw you one hell of a birthday party for this year.

"And you have me." For whatever the hell that's worth. Things seem both awash with prospects and simultaneously in the middle of a weird sort of limbo right now. At least for you.

Javi's phone buzzes and he jumps slightly, not expecting it. Chuckling at himself as he pulls it out of his pocket, his eyes light up as he sees the number on the screen. "Oh! It's here!" Bolting out of the chair to take the call.

“It?” You jump out of your skin right along with him, clambering down from your chair to follow.

"Hello?" He is off to the races as he answers the phone. "Yes! Hi! Are you outside?" He asks, hearing you following him, but it's a given that you need to be here as well. "Yes? Already? And the bow?" He is giddy and practically skips a step. "Thank you! I am on the way."

“Javi, where are you going?” He’s headed straight down the hallway toward the main entrance of the house and you barely make it to the door behind him. Down a half dozen stairs and out to the port-cochere, there are plenty of cars and trailers parked out in the front of Hazelwood House but the gate has opened to let two more in.

Two cars. One of which has a giant bow on the roof.

Javi’s eyes light up and he thinks it’s perfect. Your favorite color just happened to be available in the same model as his own car and only a few cities over on another car lot. They had managed to ship the car here today and he spins around to you. “Surprise!”

"Oh my god..." You can barely huff out the words, watching a metallic blue version of Javi's beloved Porsche convertible be driven onto the grounds of the museum. You should feel awed. You should be such immense gratitude. And you do, really you do. But the twist of discomfort in your stomach is so sharp that it almost makes you nauseous. "You bought me a car?" Why? And why does that make you almost want to cry instead of being excited?

The wide grin on his face falters slightly when you don’t immediately start jumping up and down while screaming in excitement. “You– uh, didn’t want to drive my car.” He explains. “So I thought that you should just have your own. You would drive that, right?” He asks.

"I don't like driving your car because I'm terrified of something happening while I'm in it..." He looks absolutely crestfallen but you really don't know what to do right now. He went completely over your head to solve a problem and landed on an answer that makes you uncomfortable without meaning to.

“Something happening?” He rushes back over to you and grabs your waist gently. “Sweetheart, it’s a car. A tool.” He insists. “If something happened, I would only care that you are safe.” His brows lift. “And the car has a fantastic safety rating.” He adds, as is that will bolster his argument.

"I can't imagine you not caring if your million-dollar car was in an accident." Okay, you have no idea how much the car actually costs. But it's a Porsche convertible. It has to be a lot. And expensive things -- or at least things that were expensive to you -- have been a stress point for your entire life. "It's very sweet of you, baby. But when I needed to take my car to the shop, the solution didn't need to be buying me a new car."

“The car wasn’t that expensive.” He protests and the delivery driver of the car gets out of the driver’s seat and starts walking towards you and Javi. “Your car was...tired.” He reminds you.

"Say what you mean." You shrug. "My car is a piece of shit. But it was a piece of shit that I worked hard to afford and was proud of because it was proof of all that work."

His shoulders slump, feeling horrible for making you feel like your efforts didn’t matter. “I’m - I’m sorry.” He murmurs softly. “I just wanted my wife in a safe, reliable car instead of riding a bus. And I-“ he shakes his head. “I’ll have the car returned.”

"Amor," you tip his chin back up with two fingers to look at you, hating the way he looks when he pouts. It breaks your heart to upset him at all but this was a very big surprise. “Is it already paid for?”

His eyes slide to the right guiltily. “Sí.” He sighs. “But I think they will buy it back.” For loss, of course. They would take at least twenty grand off just because they had taken it off the lot to be delivered. The last thing you want is for him to think you're mad. He did something deeply overboard but he did it out of love and a want to be helpful. So you put your own arms around his waist in turn, and the expression on your face turns into something like a lopsided smile of exasperation. He is so terribly sweet, your excited puppy of a soulmate. He really is. "If it's already paid for, then I'll find out how much the shop will pay me for the parts from my junker. Can I just ask you one thing, mi amor?”

He bites his lip, feeling the rebuke coming but at least you aren’t yelling. “Anything.”

“The next time we have a big decision to make, can we make it together?” You squeeze his waist gently and lean up to kiss his cheek, trying to make sure he understands you’re not mad — just exceedingly confused. “We’re partners, aren’t we?”

“Yes, yes we are.” Guilt floods him and he has the decency to look sheepish. “I- I got caught up and I wanted you to have-“ he lets go of your hip with one hand to gesture to the car. “I thought it was a sign they had one in your favorite color.”

"It's very beautiful." When he had found out your favorite color was blue you thought for sure he was going to theme every little thing in your lives to shade of that color, but so far it's been limited to him buying a whole new bedding set in shimmery blue for your bed. You had loved that surprise, so you can see how he had thought right away that you would love this, too. "I'm not upset, Javi. I'm just really surprised. When you said you were going to spoil me when we got married, I didn't think it would be big things, too."

“Why would it not be with big things?” He asks, concerned that you could think that he would leave you to hand big things on your own.

"I–I don't know." Suddenly you're the one feeling guilty, and frowning deeply because the answer occurs to your out of nowhere, almost like you're being punched in the gut. "Probably...because...I've always had to do the big things for myself."

He hates the way your face looks so lost, so uncertain. Javi leans in and kisses you softly. “Now you have me to do the big things…with.” He stresses the last word, reassuring you that he heard your request.

“Come on, you.” The weight of a handful of unexpected revelations is still heavy on your shoulders, but the world seems a lot more manageable when Javi is smiling and you’d prefer to keep it that way. “Show me the car.”

Now that he’s halfway sure you will accept the car, he’s grabbing your hand and dragging you over to the deliver driver to get the keys and thank him profusely. “It is just like mine.” He promises. “Although your car has the cooled seats!”

The car dealer deposits the keys in Javi’s hand when he walks you over, smiling and chatty as car salesmen at wont to be. At some point the directive that this car is for you must have been given because the salesman’s attention moves firmly to explaining all of the special features of the complex car to you.

Your car is the same year model, although there are a few more bells and whistles on yours. The grey and black leather seats look amazing and it’s obvious that the dealer has just removed all the protective plastic before delivering it. It has that deeply satisfying new car smell, although that will soon disappear if you drive with the top down. “Your husband asked for the same model he has, with a few upgrades.” The salesman explains to you, as though he hasn’t just explained the entire car tip-to-tail. “Including the manual transmission. Of course, Mrs. Gutierrez, if you prefer—”

“Before you insinuate that I won’t be able to drive the car my husband has gifted to me, be assured that my ability to drive a manual sports car is not in question.”

Javi looks smugly proud of that fact and he nods. “Absolutely.”Accordingly, Javi drops the key into your hand and presses a kiss to your cheek. You thank the salesman for the delivery, realizing belatedly that the thing that going to make you keep this car is fifty percent Javi's sweet gesture and fifty percent spite for this salesman who thinks you can't handle it.

The salesman leaves in the other car, climbing in the passenger seat and Javi grins. “Want to take it for a test drive?” He asks excitedly."Don't we have to go back to work?" Javi's excitement is always the sweetest height of any moment, but there are still responsibilities to take into account. "How about I drive us home tonight instead of taking the studio car?"

He pouts for a moment and then nods. “That makes more sense.” He agrees, even though he wants to take a ride with you now. “Maybe we can drive around the coast and find a new restaurant to try?”

"That sounds perfect." You won't say so because you know Javi's idea of a new place to try is always fancy, but Alex had told you about a new burger place on the Pacific Coast Highway. Just a shack on the beach. It sounds like something Javi will love if he even ever tried it -- but those aren't the places that he thinks to try.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” He asks, glancing at the car and then back at you.

"It's a gift from my soulmate." You wrap one hand around his arm and tuck the keys into your pocket carefully with the other. "Even if it was unexpected, it's still lovely."

“Okay.” He relaxes into your body and smiles. “I was hoping you would like it. They are very reliable cars.”

"I know you love your car." He does, and you had really just chalked it up to him being a sports car guy, but Javi's obsession with safety is one more thing that is very sweet about him. He really cares about the people closest to him. You glance back at the car, which was neatly parked on the edge of the other staff vehicles, and then back at him. "It will take a little getting used to, for me. But I love that you want to take care of me."

“You’re my soulmate.” He huffs. “Of course I want to take care of you.” He promises. “I want to give you the world.”

“I’m still getting used to that,” you admit, leaning on his arm a little out of a dear and sort of desperate wish to be close to him as you head back down the hall to whatever scene work is being done right now. “And I love you, too.”******

Alex wasn’t on the primary set today, but he was working with the secondary camera crew and the assistant director to shoot some of the exterior scenes, so he had seen the delivery of the car from a distance.

“New car! Who got a new car?” He demands, knocking on the trailer door and throwing it open a second later to charge inside like an over eager puppy. He’s a total gear head and loves cars.

"Mrs. G." Jason reports, lounging across the sofa in their shared trailer with a book open and resting on his chest. He'd barely closed his eyes for a nap when Alex came rumbling in. "You go see it yet?"“No! I have to get out of this costume.” He is pulling off the elaborate jacket and starts to unbutton the crisp white shirt.

“Go easy!” Jason reminds him, sitting up on the sofa and shoving a bookmark into the spine of the book without mercy. “Heather will kill you if you rip anything.”

“Dude, the horsepower of the car.” He grins. “Maybe she’ll let me test drive it.”

"You might have a better chance at that if you hadn't crushed the cover of her notebook the other day just by holding it weird." Jason chuckles. He pulls himself to standing with a grunt and moves to grab his water bottle off the nearby shelf.

“I didn’t mean to!!!!!” He insists, whining and pouting at the mention of that incident. He really hasn’t meant to.

“I know, man.” Jason can’t stop cackling now, even as he pats his co-star on the back. “I know. But it’s never not gonna be funny.”

In his excitement and exuberance, Alex can be a little…destructive. He rolls his eyes and sighs. “Then I’m never gonna drive that car.” He groans.

"Maybe she'll take you for a ride," Jason offers instead. Alex is just pulling on a t-shirt when he motions back toward the trailer door with a wave of one hand. "I mean she basically adopted you as the brother she never wanted right?" He snorts when Alex swats at him defensively and the two guys tumble out of their trailer and into the spring sunlight. "Just ask, man."

“Maybe.” He is rushing towards Javi’s trailer, still amused that the writer has his own space. Although it makes sense, in a way. Changes are quick, printed out right on site.

You groan at the impatient knocking on the trailer door, having to pause what you're doing with one hand working open Javi's pants and the other tangled in his curls. "One second!" You call back, pouting about being interrupted.

“Hurry up!” Alex chirps happily, practically wringing his hands together. Eager to see the car up close. “Stop kissing your soulmate!”

"Shut up!" Is the retort that comes back through the door, and after a minute or two of shuffling you pull the door open to find both leading men on your steps. "Yes, gentlemen?"

Jason chuckles, finding both you and Javi behind you looking flustered. Having some inkling it was much more than just kissing. “Saw the new car.” He explains. “Alex is about to crawl out of his skin to see it.”

"Alex, someday when I meet your soulmate, I'm going to ask them if they are a dog person right off the bat," you chuckle with thinly veiled amusement at the way the Hollywood star is practically wagging his tail to see the new vehicle. "Alright," you were already reaching for the key out of sight, and now you dangle it in front of his face teasingly. "Let's go check her out. She needs a name anyway. Might as well make it a group project."

“Oh god!” His eyes light up and he tries to snatch the keys out of your hand, but you pull them back. “Don’t name her something stupid.”

“What would be a stupid name for a car?” You ask him, entirely amused by his clearly very strong feelings on the subject.

“Bertha.” He chuckles. “I know Eleanor is popular because of Gone in Sixty Seconds…” he glances at Javi. “But don’t name her that.”

"Bertha is a character on my favorite tv show." You shake your head at the suggestion even as you loop your arm around Javi's waist to walk together. "I usually let a car tell me what their name is. You know – get in and the first song that plays on the first drive is where you get the name from. That sort of thing."

“Ohhhhhh that’s a good way to do it!” Alex plugs up and he’s turning around and walking backwards as he quizzes you. “Favorite genre of music?”

"It sounds so basic to say rock, but it's true." There is also a healthy interest into any kind of music that tells a story, but in general? It's rock. "90s alt rock, grunge, punk...but I'll try anything that comes on a good recommendation."

“Janie.” Alex grins widely, eyes alight with glee. “The car’s name is gonna be Janie.”

"How can you possibly guess that?" Jason huffs, crossing his arms like it's his car that has been named and not yours.

“Janie’s got a guuuun.” Alex croons off key on purpose as he continues to bound backwards like an excited puppy. “Most dealers set the XM radio to the 80s or 90s station, depending on the price tag of the car. Javi’s car is easily ninety k, and Aerosmith released the song in 1989 but it topped charts in 1990, so they play it on both the 80s and 90s stations.”

"We'll see." Never mind that the 80s and 90s stations are usually what you listen to, you ask the universe for one single second to make it anything else so that Alex will be wrong. You love the guy – he's funny and a great friend – but he doesn't need his head getting about bigger.

He doesn’t take offense, chuckling happily as he spins around and he whistles just as soon as the sparkling new car comes into the view, bow still sitting on the hood. “Ohhhh she is puuuuuuuuuurdy.” He drawls out with an exaggerated Texas accent.

"I have to admit," you give Javi's side a gentle squeeze. "The color is perfect."

“Good.” He beams. “It was this or a car that looked like pink or purple color.”

"I mean," you laugh, watching Javi's face morph at his obvious distaste for that choice. "I do like pink and purple. But blue is my favorite. And the gray interior is gorgeous." Stepping up to the car, you smooth a tentative hand down one side and bite your lip. Is this really your car? Did he really do this? But you click the unlock button on the fob in your hand and sure enough, the door unlocks instantly. Yep. He really did it.

Even as Alex drools over the car, Javi is watching you. Eager to see your reaction now that the reality of it being yours is starting to sink in.

It is the same as his car, after all. You've been in his car dozens of times now. But opening the driver's side send a ping of nerves through you just as much as it does anticipation. After all, the car was a gift. And it is much safer than your old one. Just because you scraped and saved for that shitbox did not make it a good car by any means.

You slide into the driver's seat and actually sigh with how comfortable it is.

“Heated and cooled seats.” Javi reminds you and Alex starts cracking up. “You got the coochie coolers, hellllllll yeah mama!” He slaps Javi on the back. “Just what she needs in the California summer.”

"Please never call them that again," you snort, shaking your head at Alex before you lean back in the front seat and look up at the three men that you now spend as much time with as anyone else in the world. "Okay. We ready for this?"

"Hell yeah." Jason pumps one fist in the air. "Do it!" 

"Here we go..." Turning over the ignition is akin to a cat purring out its very best first impression, and when the screen blinks to life the station that is listed is, in fact, 90s Alt Rock. Javi leans in to ear the song, eager to learn what is playing. The unique sound of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers comes through the speakers in studio quality sound.

"Last dance with Mary Jane, one more time to kill the pain  I feel summer creepin' in and I'm tired of this town again"

Jason smirks, Javi’s head tilts curiously, and you just start to laugh as Alex crows with victory.

“Alright, fine,” you can’t stop shaking your head and laughing as Mary Jane’s Last Dance pours through the speakers. “I guess the car’s name is Janey.” It’s better than Mary Jane, after all, and the radio determined the winner anyway.

“Janey?” Javi asks, wondering if you are joking since you had wanted to thwart Alex.

“Those are the rules.” When you shrug you’re still laughing. Mostly because the chance of that happening was way too small to ignore. “I don’t particularly want to name her Mary Jane, but Janey is cute.”

“It could always be MJ.” Jason pipes up with a grin tossed Alex’s way.

“But then it sounds like you’re naming your car after Michael Jackson.” Alex points out, as if that proves that he wins.

“Or MJ from Spider-Man.” Jason counters with a shrug. “Short for Mary Jane.”

“I always liked Gwen Stacy.” You counter, just to watch the unabashed, rather gobsmacked way both Alex and Jason start to sputter in protest. “I’m kidding guys, oh my god. Calm down. MJ is good. I like MJ.”

Javi chuckles and pats the cloth hood of the car. “MJ.” He hums. “Why don’t you let her hair down, Sweetheart?”

Placing a kiss on his cheek, you slide into the car and shut the door. Turning over the ignition feels like you're sitting on an engine-powered cloud. Just like Javi's car, the buttery leather cradles you and you really can't deny the comfort. You tell yourself it's practical. Your husband – your soulmate can afford to buy you a new car when your old one is dying, and he got you something safe and stylish without you ever having to ask. Most partners would be thrilled. 

So why not embrace it? 

The second your foot presses the gas, you suddenly have no trouble with the idea of this car being your reality.

Javi watches as you squeal out of your parking spot, grinning wildly as Alex shouts encouragement in excitement.

Almost the second you pull out, the wind seems to change. The world morphs around you a little. And yeah, you like driving. You always have. But this? This feels like flying, and the only thing you’re missing is Javi beside you.

“Well damn, she left you behind.” Jason snorts, slapping Javi on the back, but your husband just chuckles. “She’ll be back. She’s just getting a feel for her baby.”

“It’s a hell of a gift.” Jason observes, arms crossed, as he watches you turn a wide circle on the other end of the parking lot.

“She’s worth it.” Javi promises with an indulgent smile. “First time I’ve ever felt truly loved.” The realization had been astounding. You accepted him, flaws and all and even put up with him now when you were exasperated by him buying you a car without your input. There is never a moment where you make him feel like he’s not enough.

Jason and Alex, for alternate reasons, sigh with longing and mumble agreements. Jason has been developing a sizable crush since beginning work on this film and hasn’t said a goddamn word to anyone — while Alex has been having a quiet personal crisis about the possibility of never being able to find his soulmate. He envies people like Javi and Dieter Bravo. People who work through their fears and end up happy and in love. He just doesn’t know if that will ever happen to him.

The car comes roaring back towards the three men and Javi chuckles when the other two step back cautiously but he knows you will stop. The braking system on the car is amazing, and he fully trusts you. “How does she feel?”

At some point during your test drive you brought the top down, and you’re grinning at him unapologetically from the front seat of the convertible. “The only thing that would make it more perfect is having you in the front seat with me.”

“Are you ready to leave?” He asks, shooting you a matching grin and lifting his brows. “Alex might cry if you don’t take him for a spin.”

“Don’t we have more work to do?” If you’ve both been dismissed from set that is news to you, but you wouldn’t be opposed to a drive.

“We are done for the day.” Alex is bouncing on his toes and edging closer to the car. Eager to get into the passenger seat if he can’t get behind the wheel. “Secondary too.”

Looking up to Javi, you flash a gleaming grin and shrug your shoulders. “Do you guys want to go for a drive? Head out to the beach and maybe get dinner?”

“You- uh, don’t mind?” Jason looks surprised and at the same time, a little relieved that you just aren’t dragging Javi away.

“Why would I mind? We’re friends, aren’t we?” It’s a little heartbreaking the way Jason always seems surprised to be included in things, but that’s like half the reason you’re damned and determined to always make sure he knows he’s invited. “If everybody is done, maybe we can catch the girls and we can all go together?”

Javi chuckles. “We won’t all fit in this car, but why don’t we go to the house and pick up my car?” He grins at Alex and Jason. “You two can take turns driving mine.” He offers with a waggle of his brows.

Before you can say another word, the boys are agreeing and sprinting off to their trailers for their stuff so fast that they leave behind a dust cloud.

“Well,” you laugh, shaking your head as they go. “We should go tell the girls. You just gave those two the biggest excitement of the week.”

“We’ll have to get them to the house, but then we can let them ride in my car.” He offers as he leans against the driver’s door and offers you a smirk. “You look sexy behind the wheel. Knew you would.”

“Yeah?” He’s practically beaming at you, and you can’t help but feel a little giddy about it in turn. “What else do you think about me being sexy doing?”

He bites his lip, his expression sliding into something a little more…carnal. “When you walk around the cottage in those little outfits. When you wash your make up off every night and you lean over the sink to make sure you got all your eyeliner.” He grunts slightly, obviously infatuated. “Painting your toenails.”

A little giggle wells in your chest and you smirk at him in turn. “So…any time you get a good view of my ass or get to look down my shirt?”

His eyes dip down your shirt and linger for a moment before he looks back into your eyes. “Guilty.” He admits with a chuckle.

“That’s totally fine,” you promise him, grin spreading a little wider. “I can’t wait for the pool to be ready so I can check out your whole drawer of speedos in action.”

“I have a favorite pair.” He admits shamelessly.

"Oh yeah?" As much as you hate to, you climb out of the parked car temporarily so you and Javi can go inside and hunt down the rest of your friends. "Which one?"

“They are black and white striped.” He tells you. “I think they make my small butt look bigger.”

Barely stopping yourself before you snort, you lean into Javi's side and pat his 'small butt' lovingly. "I think your ass is perfect, amor. Don't worry about that."

“You like it?” He perks up slightly, surprised that you would even care about his mild body issues.

"Do I like my husband's ass?" Even pretending to think about it only lasts a minute, and you slide your hand into his back pocket to give him a little squeeze. Sure, Javi doesn't have the biggest or perkiest butt in the world – but it's lean and tight just like the rest of him. "No. No, I take that back. I don't like it. I love it."

He chuckles, a little self conscious and a little proud of his butt that you like so much. “Yours is much better.” He promises, his own hand sliding down to your lower back and he grins but continues down to squeeze your ass.

"I guess it's a very good thing we like each other's assets so much," you joke, giggling at your own bad pun.

Javi laughs at the corny joke, nodding happily. “Go find your friend, sweetheart.” He urges you. “I’ll find Tamara.”

Moira is, as always, easy to find. At the reception desk inside the front door of the house, she is sitting with her novel of the week and her enormous pink Stanley full of iced water. The little cherry cover has been flicked off the top and she's chewing the tip of her straw between her teeth as she reads something particularly exciting.

"Can I interrupt?" Sometimes being interrupted in the middle of reading something exciting is the worst and you don't want to do that to her.

She’s immediately marking her spot and closing the book, looking at you expectantly. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Hollywood?” She teases with a grin.

“Hush.” But you just roll your eyes, grinning with that effervescent sunny aura that life with Javi had given you. “I was going to ask if you wanted to come hang out tonight.” You waggle your eyebrows teasingly. “Jason is coming.”

Eyes widening as her heart starts to race, there isn’t the possibility of playing it cool. Her crush on the actor is nearly overwhelming and to her horror, she can barely form sentences around him. So often she is asked why she’s so quiet. “Oh god.” She moans. “I’m gonna embarrass myself.”

“You’re not!” Plopping yourself down on the stool beside her behind the desk for a moment of work wife support, you squeeze your best friend close to your side and shake her a little as if you’re trying to shake her nerves out. “He’s a sweetheart and an absolute goofball. And I totally caught him checking you out at lunch today.”

“Oh b.s.” she huffs, waving her hand at you even if she perks up slightly and rolls her shoulders back. “He was not.”

“He was.” You nudge her, knowing you’ve already gotten her that much cheerier. “And I have it on good gossiping authority that he’s got a crush on somebody in the production.”

“The key word there is production.” She points out, sighing softly. You don’t tease her about her impossible crush, but she’s almost embarrassed by how much she likes him. She feels akin to a stalker, flustering every time she runs into him and yet she’s ’accidentally’ run into him more than once.

“You count as being in the production, babe.” The reminder is soft, but still nudging. “You don’t have to come tonight, but I wish you would. We’re just going to drive out to the beach and have burgers and hang out. Nothing fancy.”

“Just hanging out?” Since you’ve been married, the out of work time spent together has gone down, but that is to be expected and she doesn’t begrudge you that. Still, it’s nice to have the opportunity to spend time with you if nothing else. “Why not?” She shrugs and grins. “You know how much I love burgers.”

“I know you do.” And if you manage to get her in the backseat of your new car with her celebrity crush at any given point, the night will be twice as successful. “It’ll be fun, I promise. Grab your stuff and we’ll sign you out. They’ve called shooting for the day.”

“They have?” Her brows wing up and she’s jumping out of her chair to start gathering her things. Without guests, her days are boring at times and today was one of those days. She hadn’t even had confused guests arrive not knowing the house was closed for filming. “That’s early.”

“Yeah, but I can’t say I’m upset about it. Javi said they got the first two scenes this morning in one take each.”

“You weren’t on set?” She smirks and shoots you a coy look. “What were you doing? Recovering?”

“Hush!” Even as you bat her arm in playful shock, you’re near giggling. “No, I had some mail to send and my beloved junker was in the shop."

She groans in disbelief and shakes her head. “What’s wrong with Betsy now?” She demands. “She’s requiring more and more maintenance, you know.”

“I know.” At this, you at least have the decency to look a bit sheepish. Once Moira has her things, you head down to the time clock in the basement together so she can sign out. “And I guess Javi was more concerned about my safety with the old girl than I realized.”

“What do you mean?” She frowns in confusion. “Did he insult your car?”

“No, no! Nothing like that.” Javi could never insult anyone. You know that about him. He’s constitutionally incapable of intentional negativity. “He just mentioned that she breaks down a lot and that he’d feel better if I drove something a bit safer.” You bite your lip and shrug, wondering how she’ll take the news. “He worries.”

“Well, he should worry.” She admits, shrugging slightly. “You broke down on the 405 six months ago.” She reminds you. “Had to wait three hours for a tow truck.”

"I know." Though Javi doesn't know that. If he had, he probably would have done what he did today much sooner. "Which is why I'm hoping you'll be impressed by what he did instead of freaking out a little like I did."

“What did he do?” She is instantly suspicious and dragging you towards the stairs so she can find out.

"He, um..." You clear your throat and very quickly mumble: "Heboughtmeanewcar."

“He what?” She heard you, she just can’t believe what you’ve said. The very idea of someone just buying their spouse a new car isn’t something happens in real life in her experience. “What? What kind? Where? Is it here?”

"It's out front." The ever-so-slight embarrassment on your face is just because you can't believe he did something so extravagant out of a place of kindness and love. Out of worry, for that matter. Just because he cares about you and he can. "It's um...before you see it...just know it's not something I would have picked for myself but I do love it."

“Oh god.” She groans. “Don’t tell me that man got you a fucking minivan.”

"No, no. Quite the opposite." Back up the stairs and out to the front of the house, you put your hand into your pocket and click the remote entry that unlocks your shining, metallic blue Porsche. "Moira, meet MJ."

“Holyshitnofuckingwaaaaaaay!” The squeal makes it out in one breath as she nearly leaps for the car, yanking the door handle open to look inside and verify that your key fob unlocked this car. “Can he buy me one too?” She begs, teasing but obviously slightly jealous as she coos over the car.

"Honestly if you asked, he probably would," you tell her, glad to see that she's excited about this development instead of getting worried that it's overbearing or that Javi is lovebombing you. Neither of which is the case.

“Holy shit.” She huffs. “It smells amazing.”

"New car smell, right? I swear Porsches have their own specific version."

“Because it’s expensive.” She pokes her head out of the car and looks at you over the hood. “Don’t tell me that he just surprised you with it?”

"I don't know if you've noticed, but surprises are kind of his thing." From the front steps of the house, the guys and Tamara appear and you can't help the way you light up at even the smallest sight of your soulmate. “Everybody excited to get outta here?"

“I wonder what he will surprise you with next time?” She chuckles, happy to see that you are so happy. You deserve everything.

“Hopefully nothing as big,” you half-laugh under your breath as the group comes down the front steps toward you.

“Hell yes.” Tamara answers happily. “A burger and a beer or two sounds like the perfect way to unwind tonight.”

When the rest of the group makes it over to the car there are hugs and squeezes all around and Tamara coos over the new convertible lovingly. "Since everybody else was driven," she eyes the boys with amusement. "Why don't we take Mrs. G's gorgeous new baby and my SUV out to Casa Gutierrez and we can go from there?"

“I want to ride in the convertible!” Alex immediately calls it and Jason shoots a glance over at Moira to see if she’s going to call the other tiny backseat.

"Surprising no one." Tamara laughs. "Jay and Moira, wanna ride with me? I think if we try to split up the adoring soulmates, the world might implode."

Everyone laughs and Javi shrugs. “It just might.” He admits. “It is hard enough to be away from her when she is having her nails done with Moria.” However, he knows you need your time with your friends and he would never deny you anything you need.

“Which is a tradition we cherish, and you’re the king of appreciating a nice new manicure anyway, mi amor.” Before him, your weekly manicure sessions with your best friend had been an excuse to spend time together, listening to music and gossiping and painting each other’s nails. Once Javi had heard about this, he had insisted on upgrading it to a weekly lunch and salon date for the two of you.He smirks and winks at you as he thinks about the way your hand looks when you wrap it around his cock. It’s your favorite way to beg him for sex, not that you have to beg, but you love to feel him harden in your hand. “Yes I do.”

“Okay.” Having a feeling that you’re both thinking about the same thing, you snap back into reality just long enough to nudge a slightly panicky looking Moira toward Tamara and Jason. “We’ll meet you guys at the house. See you in a bit!”

Everyone is quickly loaded up into the cars, Alex groaning over the buttery leather interior and grinning like a Cheshire Cat as he leans forward. “Make her fly?” He begs.

He’s like a little kid in the backseat all the way down the Pacific Coast Highway. For the length of the drive it is nothing but good music and chatter in both cars and even when you leave Tamara’s SUV in the driveway of the cottage to take both convertibles out for dinner, the good mood just keeps rolling. By the time the six of you get the little burger shack with its old fashioned jukebox and brightly painted and varnished tables, you’re both starving and in an incredibly good mood.

“Oh my goodness, I love the vibes of this place.” Moira is absolutely enchanted by the relaxed atmosphere and the relaxing classic rock that is pouring out of the speakers of the jukebox. It’s very chill, very surfer-like. Even if the rocky cliffs aren’t the perfect setting for surfboards and catching waves.

“Isn’t it the cutest? And I’ve looked over the menu a million times, everything looks so good.” Your best friend had glued herself to your side the second both cars got here and you’re dying to know why she’s blushing so badly but you won’t pry quite yet. “I’ve been wanting to come here for ages.”

“Why didn’t you say something before now?” Javi asks, almost looking hurt that you kept what you wanted to yourself. “We could have come.”

“I knew we’d get around to it.” You reassure him, and make a mental note that Javi seems a little extra sensitive to making you as happy as humanly possible today, despite — or perhaps because of — the car purchase just hours ago. “And I was right, wasn’t I? We’re here now.”

“Yes we are.” He relaxes at your words and the way you stroke your hand down the small of his back as you lean into him. “We need to try everything you want.”

“That’s either going to be a very big tab or a whole lot of visits, but I like the enthusiasm, mi amor.” The two of you slide up to the rest of the group to find Alex already flirting his way into getting two tables pushed together instead of having to wait. Moira has joined Tamara at the jukebox where they are eagerly picking out songs, and Jason is lingering slightly behind with his eyes trained firmly on the ground in front of him like he’s misbehaved or something.

“What’s wrong with him?” Javi asks you, noticing Jason’s behavior and finding it odd for the actor. He’s not as outgoing as Alex, but he’s normally not sulking like a kid put in time out.

“Not sure yet.” The two of you hang to the back of the group as the beaming hostess leads Alex to his table and all the rest of you only by accident. “But I caught him get starry eyed looking at Moira earlier. Maybe there’s a thread there?”

“You picked up on that?” He lifts a brow and grins as he glances back at your best friend. “I thought I was imagining things.”

“Nope.” Shaking your head lets you smother a giggle as you walk together, and you grin up at your husband. “Clear as day!”

“What does she think about him?” You have to know, as close as the two of you are. But Javi doesn’t push you to tell him everything you and Moira discuss. He respects your friendship enough to know that you might keep secrets from him that she divulges.

“Oh, we are absolutely meddling,” you murmur, right before letting go of his arm to sit down.

“It’s like that, huh?” He snorts in amusement and sits down beside you.

“Like what?” Jason asks brightly. He’s already picked up a menu and is leaning back in his chair, savoring the evening breeze off the Pacific.

“Like a party.” Javi answers, glancing over at Jason. “How was the drive here?”

“Stunning.” Alex grins, leaning forward just as Jason leans back. “I’m gonna have to get one of those for myself, ya know.”

“So you are going to let Jason drive it back?” Javi asks with a grin of his own.

Picking up on Javi's thread quickly, you bury your grin behind your menu and shrug. "Someone would have to keep an eye on him if I did let that happen."

Javi chuckles. “And who better than your best friend?”

"Perfect." Moira might kill you for it later -- if the foot stepping on yours under the table is any indication -- but you'll be damned if you're not going to at least try to help.

“But I wanted to drive her some more.” Alex pouts playfully, even as he hands over the keys to the Porsche.

"Play nice and you'll get another chance," Tamara advises, still grinning when the waiter comes over to take everyone's drink orders.

“Or better yet, buy one.” Jason snorts. “Or maybe not, the way you drive.”

"Hey!" Alex all but pouts. "I'm a good driver!"

Moira snorts and Jason immediately bites his lip, the edges of his ears turning red as he looks at the menu like he’s trying to memorize it.

The ordering of drinks distracts from whatever must surely have happened during the drive out to the coast, and the table is awash with margaritas and beers in no time. Conversation turns to the menu and everyone's plans for the weekend, but your best friend beside you is suspiciously silent.

“Everything okay?” Your innocent question makes her jump, lost in thought until you rip her back to the present. “Oh, uh, y-yeah.” She stammers. “Everything’s great. Fine. Everything’s fine.”

"Liar." Eyeing her, margarita in hand, you lean slightly to your side and have a sip of your drink. "You're a terrible liar."

“What?” She gives you an exaggerated innocent look.

“What happened?” You whisper, waggling your eyebrows at her like you’re sure she has a secret.

“Alex drives like a maniac.” She whispers back after a long moment of silence. Her face is turning scarlet again and she bites her lip. “We weren’t wearing seatbelts and….” She chokes out a groan. “I know that my boob fits perfectly in his hand now, so that’s gonna be the highlight of my fantasies for the next hundred years.”

“What??” Barely able to stifle a snort of laugh by clamping your hand down over your mouth, your eyes bulge looking at her. Thank god you’re capable of keeping your voice down to a hiss. “You’re kidding me!”

“Noooooo.” She groans and flops her face into her hand. “And Jason reacted like I had an infectious disease.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” you promise her, glad that the other four at the table are currently distracted by some other discussion at the moment. “He was probably just embarrassed.”

“Or he’s disgusted he accidentally touched me.” She snorts, hating how rejected she felt when he had pulled backed and refused to look at her even as he apologized.

“I’d call that the least likely option.” After all, you know his eyes were trained on her ass at Craft Services this afternoon. There was no mistaking that. And more than once he’s gotten blushy and excitable talking to her between scenes or at a meal. Moira just never noticed because she was blushy and excitable too. And because she was fairly blind to anyone ever paying her compliments.

“Whatever you say.” She huffs quietly. “You’ve found your perfect prince and he’s literally amazing.”

"And you will, too." Because if it happened for you, there is nothing in the world that is going to stop you until you help your best friend find that happiness, too.

“We will see.” She doesn’t want to bring down the mood at all, so she shoots you a smile. “So you named the car already?”

"First song on the test drive was Mary Jane's Last Dance," you tell her, letting the deliberate subject change wash past you. There's no use harping on it when Jason is sitting a few feet away and Moira will just dig her heels in. "So it was kind of a no brainer."

“Sounds like it.” She laughs and shrugs. “MJ is kind of cute. Some people will think of Spider-Man, some people will think of smoking out.” She laughs. “Some people with think of Michael Jackson.”

“Variety is the spice of life, right?” Your little shrug is playful. Unserious. A small attempt to keep the mood playful for her.

“You should get a vanity plate for her.” She hums, knowing how much you enjoy figuring out what people are trying to say through their plates.

"Can you get them with just two letters on it?" It's a question you've never, ever had to contemplate before and now you can't recall if you've ever seen a short vanity plate before.

“What about MJ and the year?” She suggests.

"That could work." You hold up your glass to her to toast. "Just as long as you go for endless drives with me and keep being my adventure buddy. I can't possibly be Thelma without my Louise."

“Always.” She snorts and picks up her own glass to tap against yours. “I’ll be the scrub in the passenger side of my best friend’s ride.”

You snort, but toast her anyway. "You're dating us with that lyric, babe."

That makes her laugh, even though it’s jarring how much time as passed by since she first discovered her first soulmate mark and hoped to find them soon. “I’ll own it.”

"It's a good ass song." There's no debating that. Just like there's no debating how relaxed you are with your soulmate on one side of you and your best friend on the other. With a whole table full of friends. It's become your new reality almost as quickly as meeting and marrying your soulmate, and there's something about that that clenches your heart tonight. "And I swear I'm not getting teary over a TLC song."

“Yes you are.” Moira snorts. “But that’s okay. Right now, everything in your life is perfect.” She might be a little envious, but she would never begrudge you this happiness. You deserve it and more.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

TUWOP: @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981 @sunnytuliptime @iamladyp @spishsstuff @famouslyanonymous

[chaehwa-archives]

friendly rivalry deep dive part 18

Episode 8 is the climax of the first half of Friendly Rivalry, and it feels different from every episode that’s come before. The main characters have been established, and for the first time they’re all gathered in the same place. All the pieces are on the game board.

Our main girls, Jae-yi and Seul-gi, have gone through a whole arc together. After enduring betrayal and heartbreak, they’ve reached a tentative reconciliation. For a few magical hours, Seul-gi sets aside her doubts and reservations, and enjoys the romantic night of her dreams.

At least until she loses her dad’s phone and gets stabbed by a drug addict. Life at Chaehwa sure is a rollercoaster.

I’ve been struggling with how to approach this one. Episode 8 is one of the most iconic in the whole series, and it’s truly a masterpiece of efficiency. How can one episode have more fluff than all the previous episodes combined, and also have the most labyrinthine plot so far? How do they pack so much into thirty minutes? Did the writers sell their souls to Gay Satan?

Well, first, let’s talk about that. I briefly mentioned the queerbaiting debate in my discussion of the Episode 4 dream kiss, and now that we’ve arrived at one of the gayest episodes, I fear it’s time to put on the hazmat suit and wade into the discourse once again.

I’m sympathetic to viewers who go into Friendly Rivalry expecting a GL romance and end up feeling betrayed. It’s true that FR doesn't check every single box if that’s what you’re looking for. There’s no direct verbal confession, no kiss outside of Seul-gi's dream. If you need someone to say “I love you” to consider a relationship canon, you’re going to be disappointed.

But...media literacy y’all. It matters. Friendly Rivalry is a story about hidden motives and buried desires. The characters are emotionally damaged and repressed teenagers. And from the beginning, FR has used symbolism and subtext to express emotional states. This show is begging you to look past the surface and engage on a deeper level.

And yet...when it comes to Jae-yi and Seul-gi’s feelings for each other, Friendly Rivalry does not ask you to work so hard. It’s pretty damn direct! *Crucial plot information* is often conveyed with ten times more subtlety. The only way this episode could be any more romantically coded is, again, if there were a kiss or confession, but that wouldn’t make sense for Jae-yi or Seul-gi at this point.

It’s worth asking: If FR revolved around a het pairing, would there really be any doubt that these characters are in love?

I can still see how someone might view this as bait, though, if the story were about something else. If after this episode Jae-yi and Seul-gi’s relationship were sidelined and never mattered again, I would be upset. And that does threaten to happen for a while, so I can understand some frustration if you’re only here for the gay shit.

But the ending clarifies what FR is about—and the ending also isn’t very subtle about it imo. Friendly Rivalry is about Jae-yi and Seul-gi and their love for each other. Without that, there’s no story.

And that’s ignoring cultural context, because I’m not an expert on the K-drama industry, so I don’t know what restrictions the creators were working within. Personally, whether it’s due to cultural pressures or artistic choice, I kind of like that Jae-yi and Seul-gi don’t just say “I love you.” That would be waaay too basic for these freaks.

Final word on the subject: I know why people want “confirmation” and why they can get turned off by ambiguity in queer stories. They want to know that the creators are actually on their side and not just toying with them for money. But Friendly Rivalry does not scream “cynical cash grab” to me. The director spent years working on the script, it was filmed on a small budget without sponsorships, and at first it only aired on a minor streaming platform. I mean Hye-ri bought her own costumes with her own damn money! No one involved in this project thought it might end up on Netflix one day. Queerbaiting makes art worse because it’s lazy and safe. “Safe” isn’t a word I would ever use to describe Friendly Rivalry.

We don’t expect every straight romance to be a romcom. I don’t want to live in a world where every queer story has to conform to the same standard to be considered “real.” True love is weird. It’s personal. It can be complex and even ambiguous. It’s not always “I love you.” Sometimes it’s “I’ve been imagining your death a lot lately.”

Sorry for the rant. Let’s pick up where we left off.

After her rendezvous with Jae-yi on the rooftop, Seul-gi is sedated for an endoscopy and has a dream. This is the first dream sequence since the kiss in Episode 4. That dream established how Seul-gi was feeling about Jae-yi about the time: ...horny. She was just beginning to process her attraction, fantasizing about Jae-yi coming onto her in a context that was both safe and thrilling.

The tone of this dream is different. On the beach where she was abandoned, Seul-gi’s father is searching for her, passing out flyers. Seul-gi calls to him again and again, but he doesn’t hear her. No one does. The tide rises, and water soaks her feet. Even so, she’s unable to move.

Then Jae-yi appears and offers her hand. Together they walk away from the beach, through the woods, as the princess dress is carried off by the waves.

Not only is this Seul-gi’s first dream since Episode 4, that was also the last time we saw her as a child. In that episode, Seul-gi told the story of her abandonment, and Jae-yi pretended to sympathize. But her false sympathy couldn’t bring true healing.

Conversely, in Episode 2, we saw how Jae-yi’s outstretched hand was able to transcend time, space, and her own scheming. Without realizing it, her gesture extended all the way to that girl abandoned by her bullies on the roof and offered hope: You aren’t alone up here. I see you.

The second time Jae-yi offers her hand on a roof, in Episode 7, it has even greater weight. This time, her sympathy is real, and she doesn’t just feel bad, she does something about it. She gets down off the wall, lifts Seul-gi up, and confesses her feelings and intentions.

When she reaches out the second time, Jae-yi removes her armor first. This gesture says more than I can see you. It says I’m willing to sacrifice for you. I’m willing *to be seen.* And this gesture reaches all the way to the root of Seul-gi’s trauma, to the girl still crying for her father on the beach.

Letting go of trauma is never easy. It becomes a part of you. The princess dress has defined Seul-gi’s life since her abandonment. She’s always been the outcast, the unloved girl people ignore or despise. Without that wound, who is she? If she leaves the beach, where will she go?

The shirt Seul-gi wears in her dream is simple and white. She’s a blank slate. She glances back wistfully at the part of herself she’s leaving behind. But with Jae-yi there, holding her hand, the woods aren’t so scary. Wherever Jae-yi is going, she wants to go, too.

If the first dream was there to confirm Seul-gi’s physical attraction, this dream confirms that Seul-gi is horny for true love. Even in her most private and sensitive memories, Jae-yi is there—and Seul-gi would rather leave everything she knows behind than be separated from her.

Compared to the first half, the second half of Friendly Rivalry is a lot more plot-driven, and that trend starts with Episode 8. This episode has *so* much going on in it. I don’t want these posts to turn into long tedious summaries, so I might have to get more creative in how I approach writing them.

But here’s the speedrun: Jae-yi wakes up after the endoscopy and spies Ye-ri sneaking away to the lockers with Seul-gi’s locker key. Later that night, while everyone is gathered at the school for the big post-midterms festival, Jae-yi figures out with A-ra’s assistance that Ye-ri, working for Tae-joon, has stolen Woo Do-hyeok’s phone. Jae-yi locates the phone while it’s charging and unlocks it using the date of Seul-gi’s disappearance as the passcode. She finds threatening texts from her father, and a very upsetting video of her sister, Je-na, in a sexual situation with Seul-gi’s dad.

Then she bumps into Je-na herself in the flesh.

Meanwhile Beom-su is having the worst night ever. Being knocked out of the top twenty has done a number on her mental health, and she gets more disoriented after chugging a drug cocktail that A-ra sells her off the books. Ye-ri entices Beom-su into helping her find a charger for Do-hyeok’s phone, promising her a turn in the blind date booth in exchange, but when Beom-su actually does what she asks, Ye-ri (who has lost the phone she wanted to charge thanks to Jae-yi) lashes out in frustration. Beom-su’s resentment builds as her grip on reality weakens. Finally she takes out her rage on Seul-gi by stabbing her in the arm with a kitchen knife.

Gyeong is also here! First she’s trying to study like a big nerd, then she has a run-in with Tae-joon, who’s at the festival to work a food stall, then she goes on an awkward blind date with a drug dealer. The dealer, Byeong-jin, is here to uhhhh sell fentanyl to high schoolers? And harass Seul-gi I guess. (Bro get a life. You look 27 years old.) Gyeong tracks down Seul-gi to talk to her about Tae-joon, and maybe why an adult man passing out transdermal patches to teenagers is looking for her, but they both get sidetracked when Seul-gi realizes her dad’s phone is missing. Gyeong suspects that Jae-yi stole it.

Let’s pause to pay tribute once again to Oh Woo-ri’s phenomenal acting. Her awkward gestures, her facial expressions, the stiff way she walks...she truly embodies Gyeong down to the finest detail.

And of course Je-na is here, too, posing as a visiting student from Hoegyeong High School. This is the first time we’ve seen her outside of flashbacks and photographs. I’m not 100% sure I know what she’s doing at the school tbh—does she think the phone is here? It seems pretty clear now that she’s the one calling it. Or is there something else she might be after in the C-Med room?

I’m skipping lots of details, but those are the broad strokes.

Mostly I want to focus on Jae-yi and Seul-gi in this post, because they are my Roman Empire, but I also want to talk a little about Ye-ri. She’s always been a morally gray figure (okay, to be fair, everyone in this show except Tae-joon aka the devil incarnate is morally gray) but she has a sweet side—she would never be mean to Gyeong, not even for a bazillion won. In Episode 8 though we see her at her worst, being downright vicious to a girl who clearly needs help.

At first I thought it was a little out of character for her to be this cruel to Beom-su. Then I thought about the circumstances. It’s the school festival—everyone is here. Even if Ye-ri weren’t stressed about trying to extort a powerful and dangerous man for money, she would be on edge. Ye-ri depends on her image for security. In social situations, she’s in survival mode. If she were alone with Beom-su, in a different setting, her good heart might prevail, but here, where she could be seen by anyone? Maintaining her image is top priority. And Beom-su is poison to that image. To be caught hanging out with—or worse, being nice to—the paranoid druggie kid is social suicide.

Notice the way Ye-ri transforms around Gyeong. Gyeong is also an awkward loser—but because she has high social status in the class, Ye-ri doesn’t care at all! I mean, she’s also truly madly deeply in love with Gyeong, so she probably just thinks Gyeong’s dorkiness is cute. By the way, note the colors of the big heart behind Ye-ri on the blind dating booth...green, Gyeong’s color...and pink?? Shippers you have been vindicated.

Okay...it is time. My babies...oh my sweet babies.

On my old blog (rip) I started developing a Grand Unified Theory of Fluff—why sometimes I love it, and other times...I do not (*cough* theloyalpin *cough*). Episode 8 is my platonic ideal. It’s not just a textbook example—it is the Sistine Chapel, the Complete Works of Shakespeare, the Holy Grail of fluff. It is giving us exactly what we want, and it’s almost unbearably cute, but it is always serving the characters and story. Jae-yi and Seul-gi share about six minutes of screentime in this episode altogether, but those six minutes have more impact than the literal hours Pam and Dokrak spend feeding each other in Us. (Okay it’s probably not hours but…)

First of all, it’s just so cathartic. We’ve wanted this for Jae-yi and Seul-gi since the first episode, and you can tell they’ve wanted it for nearly as long. Finally they can relax around each other. Finally they can enjoy each other’s company. Finally they can act like the kids they were never allowed to be growing up.

If these scenes were just about the euphoria of having fun with your crush while recapturing your lost innocence together, that would be enough. I would eat that shit right up. But this wouldn’t be Friendly Rivalry without at least a dozen more layers of emotional complexity on top.

There’s a subtle tension in Jae-yi and Seul-gi’s interactions from the beginning. Look at Jae-yi’s face when she first finds Seul-gi at the festival. She’s not smiling. Her expression is somewhere between concern and determination. She’s worried but driven.

Jae-yi isn’t relaxed at all—she’s on high alert. She knows that Ye-ri is up to something, and that whatever she’s up to has something to do with Seul-gi. The concern in her eyes is for Seul-gi’s safety. But she’s determined to prove (to Seul-gi and to herself) that she wasn’t just messing with Seul-gi’s heart again when she promised to protect her. She wants her girl to have fun tonight. And she’s made it her mission to give this night to Seul-gi as a gift—even if it means keeping her ignorant.

For Seul-gi’s sake, Jae-yi plays another role. She pretends to be silly and carefree so that Seul-gi can be.

But somewhere along the way, the line between performance and reality starts to blur. Jae-yi gets swept up in her own act. She starts to have fun in spite of herself.

In the past we’ve seen how Jae-yi fools herself into thinking she’s in complete control, while in fact it’s Seul-gi pulling her along, making her do things she’d never do otherwise. Most recently we saw this pattern in the Episode 7 rooftop scene. Jae-yi thinks she’s “won” with her sneaky pee scheme—but it’s Seul-gi tugging on her heartstrings, and her love for Seul-gi, that pull her back from the brink of despair.

Now Jae-yi has cast herself in the role of Seul-gi’s protector. She thinks she’s taking control of the situation to ensure that Seul-gi has the time of her life. But little does she know it’s Seul-gi who’s making her forget all her fears, and allowing her, for maybe for the first time in her life, to feel free.

It is so sweet y’all. I’m sobbing rn.

These dynamics are maybe easiest to see in the scene at the food stand, when Tae-joon interrupts their date to mansplain about the health risks of I DONT FUCKING CARE YOU ASSHOLE GO AWAY, LET THEM ENJOY THEIR DATE GODDAMN IT, IF YOU TOUCH A HAIR ON SEUL-GI’S HEAD MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD—

Um. Sorry!

The moment Seul-gi mentions that she wants to eat, Jae-yi glances over at the stand where her father is working. She’s clearly worried and doesn’t want to go. But her woman is hungry. She has no choice. (Notice it’s Seul-gi taking the lead, and Jae-yi following.) Then, when Jae-yi is introducing Seul-gi to Gyeong’s mother, something really interesting happens. Jae-yi takes Seul-gi suddenly by the arm, grinning from ear to ear.

She knows Tae-joon is right there. She knows he’s watching her. He’s always watching her.

Is she deliberately provoking him? Is she telling him stay away, she’s mine? These are things Jae-yi has done before—neither would be out of character for her. But when she steals a glance back at her dad, her expression is strangely distant and reflective.

...I think she just forgot.

For a moment, she was too happy to worry about what her dad would think. She stopped calculating her every movement, and just...did what she wanted to do! Which was touch Seul-gi of couse. (When is that ever not what Jae-yi wants to do.)

It’s interesting that Jae-yi learned fear from her father, a man who is seemingly incapable of fear. Any assault on his power he responds to with a cocky little smirk (an expression we’ve seen Jae-yi wear many times now), as if no threat is worth taking seriously.

But this is a facade just like Jae-yi’s—one he’s spent his whole life perfecting. Behind that smug punchable mask, fear is probably the one emotion that he does feel.

And nothing—nothing in the entire world—makes Tae-joon more terrified than seeing his daughter happy and beyond his control.

This bitch can’t help himself. He has to reassert his dominance. He puts on his authoritative “health expert” persona and starts droning on about phosphates, trying to seize control the way he usually does, by pretending to care about his daughter’s wellbeing. He’s probably done this to Jae-yi a thousand times.

But Seul-gi does not give a fuck. She just ignores his ass! And when he keeps pushing, she pushes back. She says no, you can’t control this situation, or your daughter, or life itself—so fuck off. Your diet advice is not needed. And now that she strongly suspects him of being involved in her father’s death, she even taunts him about it.

Seul-gi, you are a treasure. Jae-yi, never let this girl go.

As Jae-yi opens up more and more, we’re watching her relationship with Seul-gi transform into something more and more reciprocal. Back in Episode 3, Seul-gi confessed to being envious of Jae-yi, who seemed to have everything in the world. But Jae-yi has as much reason or more to be envious of Seul-gi. Seul-gi grew up alone and forged her identity in isolation. She learned early not to care what other people think. Because of that, she has no pretensions. She isn’t trying to seem cool or earn anyone’s favor. Everything she does, she does for herself.

Jae-yi has never been able to live like that. She’s always been at the center of attention, performing for a crowd. And she’s had to define herself in opposition to the people around her—in opposition to her sister first, and then to anyone else who could be a threat. Jae-yi is all pretense. She’s been acting for so long, she’s forgotten how to just be.

In Seul-gi’s dream at the start of this episode, we saw Jae-yi give her the courage to start moving on from her past. Now their roles have reversed. Because Seul-gi is there, Jae-yi has the courage to ignore her father’s gaze, even when he’s standing right there in front of her. Seul-gi gives her the strength to act for herself, without worrying about what other people will think of her.

They are so perfect for each other. I know they’re still in high school but just let them get married already. Please.

I keep thinking to myself, “oh that’s just a cute lil fluff scene, I can’t have that much to say about it,” and then I end up having so much to say about it. Take the ball pit scene. At first, my reaction was simply no thoughts head empty just let them kisisskss already omg. But even this fluffiest of fluff scenes has hidden depths.

We’ve seen a few callbacks to Episode 4 already. The ball pit scene made me think not only of Seul-gi’s dream in Episode 4, but also of Jae-yi’s scuba diving trip story. Remember when Jae-yi tells Seul-gi she felt relaxed under the water, and Seul-gi says, “Like being in your mom’s belly before you were born?”

The ball pit is our symbolic body of water. You could replace it with a pool and this would just be the romantic gaze-into-each-other’s eyes pool scene from dozens of movies. But ball pits are also something we associate with childhood. Playing in a ball pit isn’t something you usually do as an adult, or as a teenager. If you’re self-conscious, it could even be a little embarrassing.

Jae-yi and Seul-gi were both forced to grow up too fast, and for both of them, the past represents comfort, a time before trauma altered their lives. If only Seul-gi could go back to when her parents were still alive, before she was abandoned...If only Jae-yi could go back to a time before she distanced herself from her sister, or even further, back to before she was cursed with consciousness.

The ball pit isn’t real water. It’s one of the most unreal-looking sets in FR—an ice-cream-colored soft pastel dream world. It’s the stage for a fantasy. Jae-yi and Seul-gi can’t really go back in time, but in this alternate reality, they can pretend for a little while.

In some ways this ball pit scene is like the bathtub fantasy come to life. Jae-yi is taking the lead, putting moves on Seul-gi, giving our poor girl a gay panic attack. (I love how you can just *see* her entire interior monologue in her eyes like oh shit oh god is this happening can this really be happening i think it’s happening oh fuck she’s so cute what the fuck i can’t breathe i think i’m dying help?) But the irl version is different from the dream. In her dream Seul-gi had Jae-yi play the role of the confident, dominant, mature one. That Jae-yi wasn’t vulnerable at all, because she wasn’t real.

When this Jae-yi takes the lead, she puts herself in the vulnerable position first. She jumps into the ball pit and beckons Seul-gi: Come on, let’s be stupid and act like little kids! Without Seul-gi’s influence, there’s no way Jae-yi could be this unselfconscious. It’s a two-way fantasy now, one they’re creating together. And for a moment the world fades away and it’s just the two of them. They can’t turn back the clock, but they can almost make time stand still.

Unfortunately they are in a very public place, in a very conservative country, and they are just now starting to feel comfortable enough around each other to start exploring these feelings. It’s not the right time or place for an actual kiss. But you know they both want it.

This scene is also important for GL scholars investigating the most urgent questions of our day, like: When Jae-yi and Seul-gi meet up again post-Episode 16, who’s going to make the first move? (I think Jae-yi will be the first to go in for the kiss, but she’ll panic and start second-guessing if Seul-gi wants it or not, and Seul-gi will have to lean in the rest of the way.)

Okay I swear to god I am almost finished. (This post got sooo much longer than I intended it to be.) The scene after the ball pit is another of my favorites, mostly because SEUL-GI HOW TF ARE YOU SO CUUTE, YOUR SMILE WILL BE THE END OF ME. But no, once again, there’s actually a lot going on here! Look at the way they sit side by side on the bench, Seul-gi sprawled out like she’s hammered out of her mind, missing one sock, while Jae-yi sits prim and proper. Jae-yi takes off her cat ears, too, because the cat ears were her costume, something she wore to help get into the spirit of the role.

She’s thinking, Mission accomplished, my work here is done. Seul-gi had fun! She did it!!

Jae-yi offers to buy Seul-gi new socks, because of course she does. She is slipping out of one role and back into a more familiar one, the Jae-yi who showers the object of her affection with gifts. (Seul-gi is still wearing that scarf btw. She’d probably have ended up wearing it for like a month straight if not for the whole getting stabbed thing.) But before she can go, Seul-gi reaches out and grabs her wrist...

And Jae-yi stops.

The last time this happened, in Episode 6, Jae-yi slipped out of Seul-gi’s grasp, wearing one of those Tae-joon-certified smirks. This time she doesn’t even try to wriggle away. She’s letting someone touch her—and look at her face. She’s stunned.

Is she stunned just because Seul-gi touched her?

Or is it because......she likes it?!

A realization has been dawning slowly on Jae-yi all night long. I don’t know if she’s quite figured it out yet, but that’ll come soon.

As for Seul-gi, she’s just had the greatest night of her entire life, and she wants to return the favor. But she has nothing to give—nothing that Jae-yi doesn’t already have—except honesty. If Jae-yi is finally being sincere, Seul-gi wants to pay her back with sincerity.

So she admits how she feels. She doesn’t trust Jae-yi—the damage can’t be undone in a single day—but despite that, Jae-yi is special to her. She wasn’t upset about tying for first place. She was also over the moon.

This...this isn’t a story about rivalry at all! And those gazes sure don’t seem very friendly!!

One last thing, about the gazes. Throughout the evening, we’ve seen Jae-yi sneak little glances at Seul-gi whenever Seul-gi isn’t looking. She’s monitoring her mission progress, making sure Operation Best Date Night Ever goes off without a hitch. At least, that’s probably what she tells herself she’s doing.

Then comes the fireworks scene, the last moment Jae-yi and Seul-gi share in this episode before being separated. The world is cruel. In a very short time, Jae-yi is going to discover a terrible secret about her sister, and Seul-gi is going to get shanked.

Jae-yi looks over at Seul-gi as she’s watching fireworks for the first time in her life. And something clicks. Not just “this girl is the most beautiful precious loveliest thing I have ever laid eyes on” although yes probably that too. But ever since midterms, when she first saw the test results, Jae-yi has been working toward a discovery.

Seul-gi makes her happy.

Not buzzed or electrified. This feeling is different from the chemical rush of competition. It has nothing to do with winning. Seul-gi could beat her, and she still wouldn’t care.

Jae-yi doesn’t need the game, doesn’t need victory, doesn’t need to be the best. These things might have made her forget her despair for a little while, but they only made her hate herself more in the end.

*This* is all she needs.

Through Seul-gi, Jae-yi is starting to realize that there is more to life than her father’s curse. There is more to life than his kill-or-be-killed nightmare. It’s possible to find joy in little things. It’s possible to find joy in someone else’s success. It’s possible to find joy in someone else’s joy.

Jae-yi has never been enchanted by anything more than by Seul-gi’s enchantment. And being a witness to Seul-gi’s happiest night is the happiest she’s ever been.

Love didn’t free Jae-yi from fear. But by actively choosing love, and letting love guide her, she’s starting to see the possibility of another way. Maybe, if she follows these instincts, she can find the key to her liberation.

[glasskey]

Season 6 WTF!

Am I the only one who thinks this season is almost a complete write off? A season that fucked up great characters and gave redemption arcs to everyone BUT the characters who deserved them? Promised revolution and then sat around doing absolutely nothing for episode after episode, waiting for the last 2 to finally take off? This is the FINAL SEASON….we waited 9 years….Season 6 WTF!

Honestly I can barely be bothered to watch this car crash anymore, they’ve performed a brutal character assassination on Nick Blaine (like I suspected they would) consequently sacrificing THE most engrossing character dynamic they had going for them. To say this was stupid would be underselling it. It was bad enough that they continually focused on comparatively the most bland pairing throughout the seasons, but to actually kill off any kind of connection between Nick and June really did the show no favours. Even watching the two of them fight at The Boston Globe was more engaging, simply because of the combustible character dynamic. As a result, without these two, for the most part unless Lawrence is in the room, I’m pretty fucking bored. They failed to beef out other character arcs earlier on and consequently they act as footnotes or accessories to Osborne. Lawrence remains engaging because of Whitfords ability to convey his delicious snarkiness and he painfulness of his recent nuptials. His interactions with Charlotte have been an unexpected delight. Shifting from demanding she be removed from his study at the beginning of the season, to stealing her away from her lessons to teach her chess, much to Naomi’s chagrin. Naomi is really earning her keep this season; her demands that Lawrence clean out the basement while June and Moira were squirrelled away down there, engaged in acts of rebellion was absolutely hysterical.

In terms of any type of actual character prediction or analysis for the rest of the season; in episode 3 Blaine said he said he couldn’t lose Osborn and now he truly believes he has, leaving him desolate and cold. He already appeared desperate in episode 7, he was mainlining whiskey in episode 8 and by episode 9 he’ll be fucking ashes. Wharton has dragged him under and by the end he’ll either kill Wharton to prove some sort of loyalty once again, be dragged back to Canada by Tuello in cuffs when the revolution goes down, (he’s still an asset even if he’s not embedded), be killed by Osborn as a test of character against Gilead, die like a dog defending her or some such combination of all of the above. I mean how fucking hard is it just to have a character join Mayday? To cross the border and join the underground? It’s pretty easy, they seem to be doing just fine with Lawrence and he’s probably the LEAST deserving of the two.

There’s a multitude of allusions to Blaine being killed off throughout this season, not to mention the litany throughout the previous seasons, and it’s very possible they’ll get Osborn to do it. They’re asking the audience to believe the mother of this mans child would actually kill him, when several episodes prior she was ready to leave her husband for him….it’s all pretty ridiculous and requires the audience to suspend their disbelief, but what would be different from the rest of the season at this point? It’s also a complete violation of Atwood’s text, but they already massacred Blaines character in terms of this, so you know, why stop now? The books state that he’s part of the underground and EVERY other character is being maneuvered into place so you would expect them to do the same for him. However given the ridiculous skewing of his character over the last season, I’m putting nothing past these writers at this point. Given his nonsensical character transformation and the just the ludicrous judgement being passed on such a benevolent character who fucked up once, I’m finding it reeeeaaally hard to get on board with punishing him in the final hours. It all just feels so unjustified after years of service. I’d be more inclined to feel like the writers just did his character really dirty than gave him his comeuppance. Even Osborne’s accusation “you’re just like all the others” seemed more completely unjustified and honestly just fucking harsh, instead of the moment of enlightenment that the writers had intended it to be. The meeting between Blaine and Osborne at the start kind of haunts me as the last time they met in a forest was 4 10 when they disposed of Fred. At that point Fred was expecting a son and Nick had said “for whatever a man sows, so shall he reap. You brought this on yourself commander” and June and a group of women appeared over the horizon. It may be a portent of Blaine’s fate because of the Jezebels, but again this feels horrifically unjustified.

The plot line to bust Nick and June apart was like watching a 3 stooges act put into motion by Luke and June themselves. How I was meant to feel sorry for the protagonist when all of this was just a comedy of errors as a result of hitting her favourite errand boy up for yet another favour, I’ll never know. Particularly when for the last 3 plus seasons I’d watched her sacrifice innumerable innocents for the sake of her own personal vendettas. It’s so clear to me that Tuello got greedy and should have just whacked the cuffs on Blaine by 6 03. Blaine had already gone dark and had basically told him point blank that he couldn’t fulfil his part of the deal because a fucking demon had moved into his house. June could see that he was fraying, she knew that he was in danger when he killed those guards and yet once again she let him walk away. This really was the point at which June should have said “Come with me” and not “See you later”, because ultimately she may as well have said goodbye. Sure Tuello would have tossed him in the lock up but hey, Fred got immunity from all that juicy intel all the way in Canada so why couldn’t Blaine? Plot hole, plot hole, plot hole. As it was they let him go, so ultimately these people are pretty complicit in what went down with the Jezebels. I, and everyone else for that matter, couldn’t help but notice that Mayday and the Nighthawks hadn’t given a fuck about them before, content to see them as collateral damage. They could wax lyrical all they liked but the fact was it was merely semantics, they were less concerned about them dying, than they were about the purpose for which they’d died. Had they died in the service of killing a bunch of commanders, Mayday would have valued their deaths, but because it was Blaine they saw it as a waste and a missed opportunity.

The hypocrisy throughout this season has been absolutely rampant, and I’ve found myself scoffing in disbelief constantly, at the double standards everywhere. Over and over I was told to accept that every one of Blaine’s decisions that brought about his demise was all his own fault, whereas other characters involved were absolved of their culpability in any way. I refuse to see the decent of his character as entirely his own fault, Blaine has spent over a decade being mentally conditioned by Gilead, with it just about to sink it’s claws in for good with a newborn child. Meanwhile Tuello wanted to send him back in there for fuck knows how long, all because he let him visit his girlfriend in the hospital for 5 minutes. It was stupid and greedy and he should have taken the intel he could get, by taking Blaine into custody at the border in season 5.

The writers have tried to use him to point out the soft fascist in the room, leaving it until the very last minute and seriously it’s not good enough. You can’t cast characters under a totally different persona for 5 seasons, then suddenly come out in the last season guns blazing for them and not expect your audience to get whiplash. This sort of thing results in that season being the one that gets purposefully shelved simply for it’s lack of character consistency. His transformation has also been ridiculously swift with the change between episode 6 and 8, the equivalent of a cartoonish reveal.

There was far too little Lawrence this season, I’m at a loss as to why they didn’t just send Lawrence back for those letters, I guess because it would have made sense….but no, had to go and call the boyfriend and consequently fuck up everything. Lawrence has been given far too much leeway this season, all of a sudden he and June are pals again after viciously fighting at the end of last season. I mean I know they wanted to switch things up and insert some exciting plot twists, but it really has been at the cost of any believability whatsoever. Truth is she and Luke would have been gunning for him after that shit went down with Hannah, but nope nothing. Just, here are all our secret plans Lawrence, promise you won’t fuck it up? Urgh.

Now, can someone please tell me who wants to watch Serena blather on about fertility centres (episode 8 and still nothing happening there btw) and weddings? How she could be so dense as to marry the King of all High Commanders, and not expect to be right back where she started, I’ll never know…but there you go. This all could have been avoided if Serena had just sat on the porch in her nice peaceful little commune, shotgun in hand, and when the Wheelers or Lawrence showed up, told them to just keep driving. I suspect Serena will actually end up a handmaid herself by the end but with the leniency the writers have shown her despite her horrific past deeds, who knows. The wedding itself in episode 8 was meant to be absolutely mental, and instead we all sat around and just wondered who’d eat the cake, and if Serena and Nick would spot June at the wedding.

Luke seems to be pretty MIA for someone so motivated to get shit done this season, but we’ll probably see him pop back up in episode 9 and 10. I recently saw in a clip OT saying he was looking forward to the part that he gets to take a swing at Blaine. I predicted this would happen earlier on and it really is just so trite of the writers to have the two objects of the protagonists affection engaging in fisty cuffs like fucking children. Luke’s already shown evidence of a sensitive ego in previous seasons, and this really doesn’t help to restore an image of security in his own masculinity. I was hoping to see some personal growth but it seems that even though he wants to be more pro active in retrieving Hannah, his ego remains an issue and has resulted in some ugly confrontations with June. Regardless of the outcome, the fact is that Blaine is an experienced Military commander, so asking the audience to believe that Bankole would actually manage to beat Blaine up is just sheer fantasy. Maybe if they’d squeezed in a montage of Luke doing drills I might be able to buy it.…but they didn’t, so we’re going to have to add that to the list of things I need to suspend my disbelief for in order to accept. I’m also at a loss as to why he’d want to beat the shit out of the man who is responsible for keeping his wife alive, and then saving his life as well. Certainly he thwarted their Mayday plan, and yes they fell in love (he should understand that better than anyone after that whole thing with Annie) but seriously he’s got a LOT more to be thankful for than he has to be pissed off about. Essentially his wife wouldn’t be alive and he’d have no idea where his daughter is, so yeah seems a bit fucked.

Overall this season I’m really getting the vibe that the writers have had to work overtime to make audiences dislike Blaine. They’ve essentially back pedalled their brains out and rewritten not only his character but also the nature of his relationship with the protagonist in order to do so, which should demonstrate exactly how desperate they were. All it’s really done is make me detach from the entire storyline because of my distrust in them to convey an accurate picture, or one that they wouldn’t completely dissolve at will in the future. It was an inevitable consequence. The hypocrisy throughout the season has been crazy and it’s most evident when it comes to this character and his relationship with the protagonist. We also didn’t get nearly enough Moira and with episodes coming in at 40 minutes long, it’s not like they didn’t have ample time to fill out the full hour with a proper character arc for her. If they’d used the full hour they could have had better character arcs for Luke, Moira, Janine, Lawrence, Nick and Rita. And seriously it’s a final season, episodes should BE the full hour long. Apparently there will be a lot of character deaths this season and the only way that has real impact is if you actually give a shit about them which requires proper character development. Right now Rita doesn’t have even close to the amount of character development that Lawrence has, so as a result the audience will care a lot less if she dies….and that’s regardless of whether that character “deserves” it or not. She was in charge of the cake soooooo yeah, probably not looking good for her. Apparently episode 9 is meant to be for the fans, so I guess they’ve worked out some way to magic Nick and June back together again, Blaine to finally go underground with Mayday, Serena to die a horrible painful death, Lawrence to get a massive amount of one liners and Janine to escape with Charlotte. Anything else tells me they’ve been living in an echo chamber failing to check in with their socials.

[sam-keeper]

Hey Look At This... Comic? The Timekeepers of Eternity

Motion comics were a bit of a bust huh? Oh, there's examples here and there, especially when talking about independent weirdo hypercomics, of works that incorporated motion convincingly and compellingly, but most corporate offerings amounted to taking still images and having their panels slam across the screen, pile on top of each other arbitrarily, or fade into view one at a time accompanying voice acted lines--the worst of film, comics, and audiobooks combined. Easy enough to explain: paying people who work exclusively in print comics to do (or adapt) a "motion comic" just isn't going to result in much latitude or incentive for bold formal experimentation, nor does it play to the training of the artists handed the task.

On the other side, there's the real structure perverts, mad scientists of comics. They face the same problem as every other avant garde artist: how do you get paid? Where does your audience come from? Criticism for comics in general is underdeveloped; criticism for webcomics and hypercomics even more so. Launching what by necessity must be a more fine arts oriented career in what's still widely understood to be mass market commodities seems daunting, as does coaxing a mass audience out of its comfort zone.

It makes some sense, given all that, that one of the best showcases of the potential of motion comics would come not out of comics itself but the weird and heady film fan edit scene. Blessed with an abundance of material to work with (especially in the cases of franchises, miniseries, or films with extensive cut content or rereleased versions) fan editors have a latitude to screw around without having to produce a bunch of raw footage or drawings themselves (though, the nature of enthusiast projects does inspire people to do things like, say, redo all the special effects from Alien3).

There's certainly a mountain of frames to work with in the Langoliers miniseries from 1995. Probably an overabundance, actually. That's great for Aristotelis Maragkos, though, whose recut of the miniseries into the tight hour long experience The Timekeepers of Eternity needs a lot of raw matter.

I actually mean that literally: Timekeepers is a film produced by physically printing out photocopy versions of the miniseries' frames, manually altering them, re-photographing them, and re-cutting the audio to fit the new narrative. Its runtime is partially achieved by layering scenes onto each other, so actions happen in parallel, or characters expound on a subject while a pan of the environment fills in detail. Sometimes, astonishingly, footage of cloudy skies becomes an abstract 2001 style gradient as characters get lost in their own thoughts, or staring eyes from a close up rip eerily into a shot of a still landscape. What another compressing edit might discard, Maragkos collages back into the frame in unexpected ways.

This could be just a fun gimmick or novelty, and can occasionally come across as just a fun flourish on an otherwise kind of awkwardly acted and plotted original. But just as often Maragkos finds incredible possibilities in the strange hybrid medium. There's a shot early on of Toomey, the murderous time-obsessed business boy going through a breakdown, that blew my mind and immediately convinced me of the film's vision. Toomey, who pitched a tantrum when the plane failed to reach his board meeting in Boston, gets his nose nearly broken by another passenger. Outmatched, he retreats, resentfully, turning and walking back through the plane. As he does so, the film tears, creating a multiframe of instances of Toomey looking back, petulant tears in his eyes.

What happens when you turn a film into a comic in this way? In a static comic, splitting up this action into a series of "prolonger" panels helps clarify small movements and draw out the action, but in a film that's not really necessary. we can just watch that sequentially in time, like we do in real life. What else does this breakdown do in a comic? It can heighten a moment, suggest a psychological intensity, a kind of distending of time or hyperreality. Isn't that exactly what's happening for Toomey? He retreats, literally--we watch him do it. Yet he remains in place simultaneously, staring, seething. He might physically go, but psychologically he is still rooted in place, boiling over with anger at his rough treatment.

Shortly after this scene, we discover the textual rationale for Maragkos's bizarre aesthetic endeavor: Toomey has a bizarre tick of his own, am almost eroticized need to stim by tearing and shredding paper. As he sits and stews after another confrontation with the rest of the passengers, he tears at a magazine, and the screen tears too, layers of the frame peeling back to reveal other elements of the scene, so that his tearing becomes the ubiquitous context for the other characters talking about him and around him.

I have a lot more to say about this one so I'll cut the review short here and you can read the rest on my full blog. You can also read the rest of my Hey Look At This Comic reviews on tumblr, and support me on Patreon.

[melancholicstation]

The Socially Active Secretary: Chapter One

pairing: robert francis kennedy female ❤︎ original character charlotte agapov (secretary!reader)

authors note: this is more of establishing of context around our main secretary girl!! our favourite pathetic catholic men (the kennedys) will come very soon i promise, all in due time. 🍺 please leave comments of any questions/likes/dislikes/all around opinions so i know if your interested!!!

synopsis: charlotte agapov, a divorcee whom recently moved back to the states after a disastrous lovers quarrel, assumes the secretarial position to the most important man in America, but it is not he who has captured her attention, no. instead, it's his meek younger brother, the runt of the kennedy pack, bobby francis kennedy.

[1403 words]

taglist: @kennediva @absurdlyvintage

chapter two, three four

masterlist charlotte moodboard rfk moodboard

(border from jenny holzer truisms 2018)

Chapter One

May 1st , 1961

There Charlotte stood, rolling on the balls of her feet, observing the woman before her in the mirror, finding her increasingly difficult to place her as recognisable. She had all the features that Charlotte understood to be her own, but she felt like nothing of the sort. Swathed in wool, to accommodate for the seemingly perpetuate damp state of Massachusetts in the month of May, and encompassed by a calf-length dress fit with double-faced cashmere in a mousey grey. Due to her contentious divorce with the English baron Hugo Cornwall, he had ordered for all her typical clothes to be held in a storage facility in Kent instead of its original location: Brookline Massachusetts. He knew how important those items were to Charlotte, and he used them as nothing more as a bargaining chip.

As a result of the divorce Charlotte had been tabloid-manhandled out of Britain and promptly returned to her mother country, the United States, and backed right into perusing the job boards in the Cape Cod Times by her alimony-avoiding, hector of an ex-husband. Hugo, at 40, knew of nothing but a life of bone china plates and private charter jets, getting by in this world from a combination of generational handouts from his godmother's situated in a nondescript European country off the coast and the humiliatingly tacky private tours he host every Saturday evening of the inherited estates cashing in a small fortune. And yet, he avoids the alimony checkers in a not so dissimilar fashion to that of his shunned family embarrassment of an uncle, who was, as of last month, avoiding taxes of in sunny Monte Carlo.

Once it became incredibly clear that Hugo was never going to cough up, and that her mother's invitation of staying at her summer house in Martha's Vineyard had a fast approaching expiry date Charlotte started to look for her next move.

Just when she had nearly exhausted all her mother's country club friends who, in a tone that could only be translated as deeply patronising stated that,

"Unemployment for such a young, american divorcee was 'in' for 1962" and that they would "call back in April to work something out"

However, April came and went, and still nothing. During the 16-month stint since Charlotte's divorce of 1961, Charlotte felt very sorry for herself and--well that's about all she did really.

Not only did getting married at 20, and it's later disillusion 8 years later, create an abstract wreckage sculpture out of her self-esteem and physical health, it stripped all prior job experience that a girl her age should've been building. After all, she could still feel her mother's fingertips ushering an 20 year old Charlotte's hands away from a flyer, held by a piece of battered painter's tape on a lamppost advertising a law school in the area,

"Oh for christ sake what are staring at now Charlotte?, you know we have caroline's recital across town, and I swear if I have to hear your aunts nasally whine one more time so help me God I will--"

Charlotte abandons her post of intense eye contact with the poster fluttering by the winds will almost instantly and returns through a soft tone "I-I'm coming now, it just captured my eye that's all."

The rest of the walk was blanketed in a soft wool of repression and thoughts better left unspoken until her mother turned on her heal, the gravel exclaiming a pleasant crunch in response,

"Don't you dare think I didn't see what you were looking at Charlotte, these are not the aspirations expected of a future baroness, you won't have any need for these silly machinations once you're tending to your husband and your home together. I understand that your nervous but think of how happy you'll be in a short few months with Hugo."

Her mother assured her in such a cadence, with such wistful hope, not meaning to make Charlotte's stomach drop but it did all the same.

"You know, I got nervous too, when I was engaged to your father. I thought about leaving more times than Sinatra's gets played on the radio at Green's pharmacy, but I stuck it out. And I got rewarded a great deal for that, for that bravery, and you will too. Far more than I ever did, I mean you're marrying a Baron who is infatuated with you for Pete's sake!"

Charlotte thinks to scoff at the notion that Hugo is at all capable of the feeling of infatuation but halts when she observes the expression of sheer elation on her mother's face.

"Everything will run as it's meant to if you do what's best, I promise",

and with that a kiss is pressed to Charlotte's forehead, and the conversation is recklessly abandoned by both parties.

Charlotte had stayed in that marriage for 8 years and what did she have to show for it? Surely not anything tangentially useful. Sure, now she knew the intricacies of English etiquette and the British aversion to hugs but that's nothing to be put on a resume. However, one worthy advantage that came out of the grotesque misalignment that was their marriage was that around the 4th year mark Charlotte had managed to secure an English degree from the University of London. Now that was certainly something to put on her resume.

Still the world seemed to completely turn its back on Charlotte, though only on a strictly employment basis, she still attended mass each Sunday and caught up with her still married, though not happily, socialite friends but it was hard to find common ground anymore. Before she could feasibly pass as one of them, now even if they didn't explicitly state it, Charlotte was now regarded as persona no grata for the entirety of the high society scene of London. She was left with a bunch empty friends, and an, as if increasing by the day, empty purse strings.

That was until a job ad in The Boston Globe caught the baby blue shadowed eye of Charlotte during her quite lonely solo escapade to the local sandwich bar across the street from her flat.

It read, in a thick professional font:

'Exciting Secretary Position Available at political epicentre of Washington D.C!

Are you a talented and organised individual seeking a rewarding career in a fast-paced office environment? Our office is looking for a professional Secretary to join our team and contribute to our continued success.

Position: Secretary Location: Top Secret [Call to confirm details] Salary: Competitive, with excellent benefits

Responsibilities:

managing and prioritising daily office tasks with efficiency

coordinating appointments and travel

managing diaries

support senior executives

having a pleasant demeanour when interacting with important officials

Qualifications:

High School Diploma or equivalent

Apply today to be part of a supportive and thriving workplace!

Phone: *** *** ***''

Now sure, the vague nature of who exactly the job would have Charlotte working for was strange and a little more than unnerving but realistically Charlotte, a 29 year old women with the same employment history as a 18 year old fresh out of high school, was going to take whatever she could get at this point.

The girl took the changing of the sky from bright periwinkle to a dim earl grey, as a sign to head back to her place in order to escape the fast approaching storm, the newspaper resting comparably rolled up in the crook of her arm.

Prior to returning to her apartment Charlotte had come to forget about the job as she had ran a few errands after the sandwich bar, that was until her feet met the door mat of her apartment. It was no longer clean as she had left it prior it now had, scrawled in big black letters, 'warning of eviction if payment is not obtained by next month'.

Charlotte's shaking hands move to pick up the yellow slip, and as she makes her way through her apartment, periodically leaving her jacket on the armrest of her laughably small settee in her stress-filled haze, she then starts to remember the job offer from the afternoon.

Sure the ad's ambiguity was a bit strange, but truly who was she to judge? It's not like the job offers were exactly rolling in at the moment.

'Oh what the hell, she might as well give it a go!' Charlotte thought, as she hesitantly dialled up the rotary.

End of Chapter One.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

GN! TA Reader x Professor Jonathan Crane Headcanons: 

Characters: Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow); Gender Neutral! Reader 

Universe: Nolanverse (Batman Film Trilogy) 

Pairing(s): The beginning of a one-sided Jonathan Crane/Reader, if you squint 

Word Count: 1.6k 

A/N: It’s that time of year when I rewatch the Nolanverse Batman films and obsess over every frame that Cillian Murphy is on screen. (Okay, but he absolutely killed it, and what I wouldn't give to see him counter Robert Pattinson’s Batman.) This combined with reading some other Scarecrow/Reader fics has accumulated into this little plot bunny of my own. And yes, while I say these are headcanons, it’s more like extended fic. I truly tried to keep it short but, much like Dickens and Hemingway cannot seem to help myself when it comes to writing extended sentences. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

ALSO— in answer to the question you’re no doubt wondering—Yes! Answers to submitted asks will return after this deviation. I’ve just had this character circling in my head the past few days and I couldn’t get him out. 

TW!: Slight Manipulative/Yandere (by Crane, but nothing explicit); Also, please beware the formatting gets more unhinged/distracting as you read on, so if you have tracking issues or sensitive eyes, please be wary

Catching Professor Crane’s Attention Would Look Like: 

You were a great student, (obviously!), one the brightest and most dedicated in his class for you to be his TA. 

At first, Professor Crane found your enthusiasm and attentiveness annoying. He pegged you for yet another professional student brownnoser failing to get on his good side. 

Most of his TA’s enthusiasm eventually fizzled out once they realized flattery would get them no further in his gradebook. That, and his more advanced courses were incredibly demanding— they took a decent chunk of any student’s time and energy. 

Much to his surprise, not only did your cheery demeanor fail to vanish, but you somehow stayed on top of every bit of work he assigned. On top of which, you excelled in your role as Teacher’s Assistant, practically teaching half of the lessons when he was too busy with his, let’s just say, other proclivities, to make it to lecture on time.  

Jonathan was impressed when he learned you’ve spent nearly every spare moment you had in his official lab’s research library, reading through all of his previous labs’ notes and official documentation. He didn’t allow students, not even students of the Psychology Department, to make Xerox copies or check out his work— it was only available for temporary reading and viewing within the confines of his dedicated lab space.

He caught a glimpse of your notebook one day, having actually made it on time to be able to teach his lecture, seeing how meticulously you’ve copied down his experiments’ notes. In the past, only his most advanced students bothered to take notes on his previous work, and at best, they’d simply record the abstracts from his many published theses. 

He should have found it alarming, as opposed to intriguing. If one was to truly study his notes, they’d find vague little inconsistencies across his verbiage from where he was forced to omit information to cover his tracks. A smart enough person might be able to piece together that something else had been his true point of study in his experiments, and that meant having to dazzle the university board with bullshit and bribery once again. He had to take care of you and neutralize the threat before that happened. 

He should have felt resigned, indifferent to the unavoidable fate you’d just sealed for yourself. Instead, he wanted you to continue; he wanted to poke and prod you as you tried to figure it out. Observing you had turned into an utterly fascinating pastime to him.

He spoke to you after class one evening and enquired as to why you felt compelled to copy his exact notes down. Did you perhaps intend to parrot his findings as your own? Was this an ill-advised attempt at plagiarism? He comes off as cross, perhaps harsh, in his line of questioning, but he desperately needed to know how you’d respond to such an interrogative line of questioning. 

The question of ‘Why?’ had been gnawing at his psyche for days, even during his newfound dealings with Falcone and his thugs, and that simply would not do. He could not get distracted by some suck-up student. His work on secretly developing the most stable version of his toxic compound all while flying under the radar of his nosy, stupid University higher-ups was much more important than the mental inner workings of some lowly college student. His intrigue slowly turned to anger.

After you tell him you’re more fascinated by “the why of the why”— all his ruminations stop cold. You weren’t flustered, weren’t defensive, weren’t sniveling and begging for his forgiveness like the ones who have come before you, oh no. Instead, you met his gaze directly and answered his question with what sounded like a riddle. Your evasive answer officially moved the dial and Crane’s intrigue became replaced with disdain. 

How dare you?! Do you think your measly intellect could ever stump him? It would be almost laughable if it didn’t make his jaw clench and his nostrils flare. But Crane is nothing if not a control freak. So he did what any wise control freak would do, and decided to change the setting of the fight back to his familiar home turf. 

“I see.” Professor Dr. Crane kept his answers curt and restrained as per his usual. “I must admit you’d be the first student applying such a subjective angle to your thesis all while using a rather definitive lens. We should discuss your topic in depth before you waste any more time writing potentially unobjective garbage. Office Hours are posted on my door. I expect to see you before our lecture next week.” 

You were in your last year of University, with a declared double major in Psychology and Biochemistry, with a minor in Creative Writing of all things. By this time, you had undoubtedly outlined the controls for your upcoming psychological lab requirement for your Advanced Independent Study next semester. Of course, an Advanced Independent Study requirement for a Psychology Major was nothing compared to those seeking a Doctorate or Ph.D. However, it still involved a substantial amount of clinical time spent organizing and studying volunteers from your academic peers. 

If his work on fear and fear stimulation hormones was a similar area of interest, it could prove bothersome. If your… experiment was similar enough in nature, and it failed to yield similar results, it might encourage the University Board to take a closer look at his synthesized “fear hormone”. The morons on the board had accepted his previous explanation of whatever pharmaceutical mumbo-jumbo he’d thrown at them. A little cortisol here, a little adrenaline there… And those fools had bought it hook line and sinker! 

You arrived at his office the next morning, your usual bright and shiny self. Of course, you had signed up for the first available slot the following day, and of course, you showed up with even more coffee and donuts in hand. 

If you were anyone else, Dr. Crane would feel insulted that you thought you could quite literally sugar him up. But judging from the sincere look on your face to the way your own eyes lit up when he accepted the coffee, made him think bribery was the last thing on your agenda. It unnerved him how he failed to find an ulterior, more insidious motive within you. 

You explained that in your class lectures, you recalled Dr. Professor Crane had spoken about the major causes of fear, as well as its evolutionary purpose. You couldn't help but wonder, in the modern day and age, when humans were no longer nomads, no longer living in pre-industrial conditions, if that evolutionary aspect of fear hurt more than it helped. 

Your lab proposal went as followed: You wished to pool a large group of students, determine what their primary and secondary greatest fears were, and then, through a series of pre-set further questions, see if you could catalog how many such fears either 1) helped the individual’s behavior, or 2) merely hindered it. 

Jonathan found it a modest proposal, for your grade level anyway. And it would serve as a good taste of what working in either a clinical or research setting would look like after furthering your education and licensing accreditation. 

Unable to stop ruminating over the personal reasons as to why you found this fascinating, his obsessive nature prevented him from striking your proposal down. ‘What could be the harm?’ He asked himself after giving your study outline his official approval. You were nowhere near his intelligence level. Even with all your scribbling and copying of his notes, it was unlikely you’d ever uncover his plot. Besides, should push come to shove, all he’d need to do was ask Falcone for a favor, have you bumped off before things started to get too involved, too messy… 

But a little mess? A little chaos? The idea sent a chill down Crane’s spine. It was the thrill of the chase, the inevitable mouse and cat, predator and prey dynamics that drove him to master the power of fear for himself. It was that addictive rush of adrenaline— the way it stroked his well-deserving ego— the way his victims screamed and cried and begged for mercy before him. 

Crane wasn’t oblivious as to why he relished such power. He was a psychologist after all. The doctor was well aware that childhood trauma was a powerful thing, an unstoppable perimeter in what made people tick. Professor Doctor Crane knew that he was rotten, yes— vile, at his core. It was that exact rot that enabled him not to care. 

Fear was the ultimate equalizer, it was the ultimate revenge. No one, not even himself could ever truly escape it, not entirely anyway. No amount of toxin tolerance or cognitive behavioral therapy, medication, or meditation could stop the chokehold fear had on all human beings. 

It seemed you knew that too… Why else would you have as much of a fascination with it? Why else would you scour his notes so intently? It was rather ironic, Jonathan thought to himself, one night, hidden deep in his basement Arkham Asylum Lab: it seemed fear ruled you just as much as it ruled him. 

Perhaps, with the right persuasion, and the right exposure, you would be open to exploring greater boundaries and experimenting with fear. 

Not once prior had Jonathan ever considered acquiring an assistant— someone to work on his toxin with. It was far too risky to have such little benefit. Everyone was far too stupid, too simple to realize the true greatness of what he was working on, the true greatness that Ra's al Ghul would help him release upon Gotham, and soon, the world. But you…. hmm. 

You— he would have to keep a closer eye on. 

A/N 2.0: Whoo! There you have it! My first official DC fandom post!

And if you enjoyed it, *Sabrina Carpenter voice* please, please, please REBLOG! Likes are great but Reblogs spread my writing much further.

Consider Tipping Me Via Kofi <3

[therobotsarestuckinmyhead]

AHHHHHH i love your writing so much like holy fuck its so banger 😭😭😭 the fact that you write gender neutral Cybertronian reader is like the nectar of heaven for my transgender ass ‼️ (AND UR SWINDLE WRITING IS TOP NOTCH RAHHH)

THANK YOU SO MUCH‼️ you have no idea how happy this makes me, kicking my feet as we speak.

i write in second person so it always ends up being gender neutral— i just didnt like using y/n a lot because when i read fics with y/n, i always end up thinking of y/n as a separate character instead of a self insert 😂 hence why i use second person.

either way, i'm more than happy to be inclusive :3 i am an ally <3 i think everyone should be allowed to simp over fictional robots in peace, this is a safe space. us perverts should stand united.

about to rant about swindle below...

AS FOR SWINDLE, he's extremely interesting to me. I JUST DON'T KNOW WHY. he's so lovable in a way. i can't explain it but i get so, so many plot ideas with Swindle alone.

HE EATS MY BRAIN AND I CAN STOP IT.

how is he a part of a combiner team and running an illegal arms operation all while looking like the most adorably pathetic Decepticon i've ever laid eyes upon (just look at that picture)??? i don't know how he manages that. was Megatron just completely fine with his illegal arms gig? it must've been his full-time job before he became a Decepticon— funding the movement when it was just a terrorist organisation.

he also must have had an amazing team of lawyers and a really good auditor he's close with- but thats assuming the Cybertronian financial system is based off of human ones. unlikely but again, theres not much light shed upon us about the Cybertronian economy.

this means you could write a reader who's...

a fellow Decepticon who owes him cash so you're doing his bidding and he is the worst employer out there, getting paid scraps </3

or a fellow Decepticon who's his partner in crime and doing all the advertising for him, the ultimate Decepticon scammer duo

OR an Autobot 'partner-in-crime' who's trying to help him tap into the wider Autobot arms market, slow-burn business relationship cause reader is only doing this cause they get a commission from Swindle with every Autobot purchase

another Con-mech, there could be a whole ass rivalry and it would just be the funniest shit ever because you're competing to see who can sell better illegal weapons the fastest

an angry customer out for blood: Decepticon, Autobot or Neutral.

a weapons engineer who Swindle is trying to take advantage off so he could sell off your produce at cheap— he's trying to get you on board by charming you and its working either really well or horrifically bad, no in between. Decepticon or Autobot.

a rich, high-ranking Decepticon official who he's dating cause you're stacked in cash and he's currently broke, you know he's with you cause you're keeping his business afloat but hey, you like them pathetic (i did this one as a crack fic lmao)

a lawyer (who's either with him or trying to bring him to justice in the post war scenario).

if the lawyer is with him then you could go full on Saul Goodman. "I LAUNDRED HIS MONEY FOR HIM, I CONSPIRED WITH HIM AND I MADE MILLIONS"... "FACT IS, WALTER WHITE SWINDLE COULDN'T HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT ME.". ending is the two of you are together where you belong, in jail <3

a corrupt government official or auditor who's taking bribes from him. pre-war era.

the possibilities of canon-complicit plot lines you could make up with this guy is insane and all of them are mad interesting. hence why he eats my brain, every single plot line possible is really unique too.

i think the human version of him would be a crypto guy ngl. or maybe even a stocks guy. not sure which, maybe both but one thing is for sure, he's a finance dude. the annoying kind.

except TFA, TFA Swindle has his shit together. he's definitely a stocks guy if he were human.

thats all about Swindle from me.

[armadillos-and-dragons]

Hello Lizzie. Would you like to talk about your ocs, particularly puppetsverse?

Okokok so:

(You’ve awakened the beast, I never shut up about my ocs lol) (sat down to write a brief preview and ended up with 2 thousand words) (warning: some parts are very rough)

So, one day, four teens awaken tied together in a room containing nothing but a door, painted beige to match the rest of the room. Eventually, they manage to get out of their bounds and find the key to the locked door (don’t ask me how: some puzzle or something I’m not quite sure). Turns out they work pretty damn well together.

On the other side, they find a combined living room and kitchen with a hallway that leads to four separate bedrooms (two to the left, two to the right) and a locked door at the end. The door looks to be a front door, but it’s impossible to tell since it won’t open. There are no windows in any room.

The teens exchange a look as they realize that this place must be another puzzle. But, before they can start discussing their strategy, a loud ping sounds from the living room. There, on the TV, reads a message:

Thus starts the team’s first mission: (insert mission here) (something with going out to fight someone I think) (the front door unlocks and then they go outside and their mission awaits) (also superhero suits or something)

One mission turns into two, two turns into a dozen, and suddenly months have gone by and the team knows very little about who is sending them on these missions or why they are fighting. However, they without fail, every time the TV goes off, they suit up and head out the door. They try to resist, but it’s the only time they get to leave the house and cabin fever is killing them. And the second they finish fighting whatever monster lays on the other side or saving whatever innocent civilian needs it they all pass out and wake up the next morning back in their new beds.

During a fight on a particularly stormy day, one teen tries to escape. But, before he’s gotten 20 feet, he’s out cold. The rest of the team is too overwhelmed with fighting to try and help him, and he lies there the entire fight. Afterwards, he wakes up with everyone else like normal.

They don’t spend all their time doing missions, however. At some point a training gym shows up in their house. There are also tons of board games, craft supplies, books, video games, and anything else the teens could want. They are never bored. The fridge is always full. If someone mentions they want anything, be it food, entertainment, or comfort items, it appears somewhere in the house after the next mission.

Even the missions aren’t too bad. No matter how dangerous the threat seems to be, nobody has yet to get more than a few scratches or maybe a bruise. The team works well together. They win every time, no matter the odds.

If you ignore the fact that they are trapped in a place without windows, only allowed outside to fight, and aren’t allowed any way to contact the outside world, the team is living pretty nice. But of course they are constantly planning an escape. However, every time they try, they end up thwarted. It’s scary how perfectly they’re stopped every time. It’s almost as if someone is always listening. They quickly figure out that they must be bugged, but even the quietest conversations seem to get picked up. There is no privacy in this place.

Let’s meet the team!!

But first! One of them is hiding something. Can you guess who (I’m curious. Also, give your reasonings)?

Alex (she/her), 19, lesbian:

Alex has been an actress for as long as she remembers. Alex is actually the main character of another of my stories, “the before” (stand in title. It’s called that ‘cause it happens before “Puppets”). Alex doesn’t let anybody in. Nobody knows the real her. Honestly, even Alex feels like she’ll never know the real her. Her real personality has gotten so tangled with her celebrity persona that she doesn’t know where one ends and the other starts. And just when she’d gotten casted with in her next big role, and her team had managed to convince her co-star to stage a romance to mirror their big-screen one, she’s shoved into this fucking situation. Her career is all she has at this point and this is going to ruin it. She has worked for this all her life. There is nothing she hasn’t sacrificed to get where she is and she needs to get the fuck out of here or it will all go down the fucking drain. (I do have more info about her if you’re curious. The tag is #alex oc. This bio is short because I’ve been writing about her for months lol)

Quick facts:

*She loves musicals. Her favorites are Hamilton and Heathers at the moment.

*Most of her acting jobs have been horror movies/shows

*When she was younger, Alex always wanted to be on Broadway. This was never an option for her, however, since her parents didn’t have her trained in live performance or vocally, and a pivot could ruin the reputation they were building for her.

*She has trouble trusting people, especially friends. She’s only ever had one close friendship, and that didn’t end well. (see “the before”, which I’m currently editing and plan on posting some day, or #the before or #alex+seb)

Azklynn (she/her at beginning of story, they/them at the end) 19 (for the case of simplicity, they age the same as a human would), agender, unlabeled:

Azklynn is… terrified, honestly. This is their first time on Earth and, well, it’s looking like it might be their last. They’re not exactly sure how long it’s been but the shuttle that would return them home has surely gone by now. Azklynn has no idea where they’re going to go when, or if, they get out of here. At this point, they’ve lost all interest in getting out of here, but they’re trying to care because everyone else has entire lives that they need to get back to.

Azklynn had been waiting for years to come to Earth. They’d been studying its cultures since the third year of the school. In the fifth year of the school, they’d gotten a chance to take an Earthean language class and had picked English because their friend was taking it. They worked their buttocks off to be good enough at English to join the school trip to Earth in the fifteenth year of the school. But now, the month-long trip they’d spent years preparing for has turned into a real life nightmare. Everything here is so new, so different, and as much as they are enjoying it, someone from their species is not allowed to stay on Earth forever.

Additional character stuff: Human gender is weird. The idea that humans introduce themselves based on their genitals has always been a concept that is hard to grasp for Azklynn. Their species has four different sexes, although they are not always distinct as humans’ seem to be (obviously humans don’t always fit into distinct sexes, but Azklynn thinks they do (they weren’t taught about intersex people in their Earthean classes)). And the idea that your genitals determine your place in the societal structure is absurd. Of course, Azklynn’s culture isn’t perfect by any means, and they find other reasons to think less of others, but seriously.

When they mentioned these thoughts to Holly, she told Azklynn that some people were neither, and that they were called “they”. Azklynn knew Jade was called “they,” “he,” and “she,” so it made sense that some people were just “they.” Really, it makes more sense. Azklynn has sometimes wondered about being called “they.” Maybe it makes more sense than “she,” since this whole human idea of gender is completely crazy. But, this option is new information, so Azklynn will have to think about it.

Quick facts:

*Azklynn also hates the idea of sexuality labels as a concept. They think they needlessly limit people.

*Thanks to Alex, Azklynn has been getting into musicals, too. They really like The Sound of Music because they used to listen to it in English class, so it reminds them of home.

*Azklynn has always been fascinated by human culture, but they are especially entranced by the entertainment industry, since in their culture, time spent not working is seen as time wasted, so there is nothing like it back home.

*Because of this, they never quite get used to having days on end with no work to do.

*Azklynn’s Earthean classes were put together in the 80s’, so some things are a bit outdated.

Jade (they/he/she), 18, genderqueer, pansexual, gray-aromantic: Jade was about two months away from graduating high school when they were kidnapped. They were ready to leave their shitty small town, the friends they never really got along with, and the helicopter parents they were almost free from.

She had been planning to move across the country to study (I’m not exactly sure what actually) at (some college on the west coast USA). But, seeing as she has no idea how long she’s been trapped in this hellscape, she might have missed her one chance to escape her small town.

He’d been able to get a full ride scholarship, since his parents–who could very much afford it, by the way–were not willing to help cover any costs unless he went to the college in their hometown. Um, not happening. Not in a million years. But, he can feel the time running out as the days turn into weeks turn into months? Jade isn’t exactly sure. Time is weird here, but no one else seems to notice.

See, Jade isn’t fully human. Her mother’s mother–her grandmother–was actually a fairy. Jade’s mom has always despised that she’s part fairy. She hates anything that is outside the norm. Including Jade, it sometimes seems.

Jade had never really known their grandma, since she died when they were fairly young, but their grandpa loved to talk about her. He was fascinated with fairies and their magic. He passed that fascination down to his grandchild. Unfortunately, with their grandma unable to teach them and their mom unwilling to, they never learned how to actually wield their magic.

Still, sometimes, Jade notices things no one else does. Sometimes it’s little things–like the one time he caught the stormy sky flicker into a bright blue hue mid-fight. He had, of course, run for it, desperate for freedom. Then… nothing. Sometimes, he notices big things. Like how, when they wake up after missions, he swears they were out for longer than the few hours everyone assumes they were. Or, the weird, magical vibe he knows is coming from one of the bedrooms. Someone is hiding something, and Jade is going to figure out who it is. Hopefully without alerting anyone else to his search.

Quick facts:

*Jade has always hated Alex. They find her cheesy and think all her relationships were obviously faked. Needless to say, they’re not happy to be living with a girl that they deem spoiled and fake. (Jade also hates musicals, which doesn’t help Alex’s case) (dw, they become friends eventually)

*Jade had an older sister. When she was 17, she snuck out and ended up getting hit by a drunk driver in the middle of the night. Since then, Jade’s parents have been extra protective of Jade, who was 12 at the time. This has really strained their relationship with him.

*Despite her fairy heritage, Jade’s aesthetic leans more witchy. Her closet is mostly purples and other cool tones. However, she’ll never miss a chance to snatch some bold earrings or patches.

Holly (she/her), 18:

Holly loves everyone. Well, maybe not everyone, but it’s pretty hard to get Holly to dislike you. And even harder to get her to let you know.

Holly is the glue that holds the group together. She is a self-proclaimed meddler. When Alex and Jade argue about one thing or another, calling each other stuck-up or lazy, she’s there to mediate. When Azklynn wonders aloud why humans even have gender, Holly gently tells her that she doesn’t have to be a girl. When she notices Alex sneaking glances at Azklynn, she’s right there, encouraging her to go for it. And when she spies Azklynn staring at Alex while she eats… well, Holly always did love a good romance.

And she loves her friends. She’s never really had many, and despite everything, she’s really enjoying finally having a group. They have to rely on each other. There is no other way to survive at this point. Leaving people out isn’t an option. It’s new for Holly

Holly still struggles with letting the others in, though. She’s had a lot of problems with friends in the past. Growing up, she was the weirdo. The outcast. All she’s ever wanted was a good, solid group of peers to care about her. And now she has that. And she hates that she has to feel guilty for finally having that.

Quick facts:

*Holly grew up in a very small, secluded community. When they were very young, the kids in her community pinned Holly as the weird kid and she was never really included after that.

*Growing up, Holly would have said her best friend was comic books. No matter where she was, she always had a superhero comic tucked under her arm or in her bag. When she wasn’t reading, she was imagining fighting bad guys with her own superhero team

*Holly likes to focus on other people’s problems to avoid her own. That’s part of why reading appealed to her so much. It’s also why she has such a hard time letting people in.

Ummm hope you enjoyed my little ramble, I’d be happy to answer any more questions you have of them.