#I have the whole second half of act 1 to script

[calronhunt]

starting production on kibby cats was a bad idea because now i'm fully understanding that this comic is going to be like 1000 pages long and i'm going to have to deal with a 1000 page cat comic on my back for years. oh god. oh christ.

[lazysoulwriter]

for pedro, who’s slightly afraid of me now - pedro pascal.

requested! thank you. ♡ content: Pedro Pascal x wife!actress!reader, horror film success, awards season fluff, public praise, playful teasing, Pedro being her #1 fan, adorable couple energy.

---

“You terrify me,” Pedro whispered, arm slung around your waist as you stepped onto the red carpet.

You turned your head, smiling like butter wouldn’t melt. “Why?”

“You gutted six people with an ice pick in that movie and I believed it.”

You shrugged. “Method acting.”

He stared. “You practiced on melons. I saw you.”

“And you still kissed me goodnight after.”

He groaned. “I was scared to say no.”

You winked. “Smart man.”

The film had been brutal. A slow-burn psychological horror that critics called “a masterclass in feminine rage.” You played a woman wronged, unhinged, and vicious. And somewhere in that madness, you’d earned your second Oscar nomination — but this one felt different. Bigger. Sharper. Earned.

Pedro was in the front row that night, hand over his heart when they called your name.

“And the Oscar goes to… Y/N L/N — Blood Orchid!”

You froze for a second.

Then the whole world stood up.

You were shaking when you took the stage, golden statue in hand, gown glittering under stage lights. Your voice was soft at first. Thanking the director. The crew. Your team. Your mom.

And then—

“Oh,” you smiled, eyes searching until they landed on him. “And to Pedro — my favorite person in the world, who now triple-checks our kitchen knives and locks the bathroom door when he showers.”

Laughter filled the room. Pedro threw his head back, blushing deeply.

“He told me last week that ‘if you ever blink at me wrong, I’m running.’” You giggled. “But thank you, baby. For reading my psycho monologues in the middle of the night. For letting me rehearse covered in fake blood. For never flinching — even when you probably should have.”

The audience melted.

“I love you. Don’t worry. You’re the only person I wouldn’t kill in that script.”

Later that night, in the limo, Pedro held both you and your Oscar like they were precious things he’d borrowed from the universe.

“You really freaked me out in that movie, you know.”

“You’re still gonna sleep beside me, though.”

He nodded solemnly. “Yeah. But I’m installing a panic button. Just in case.”

You leaned in, kissing the side of his mouth. “Shut up.”

“I’m proud of you,” he whispered.

“I know,” you whispered back. “I did it for you.”

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

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taglist: @sarahhxx03 @lloydmustache @lolareadsimagines @greenwitchfromthewoods @silksepia @pascalswiftie @itstokyo-cos @mani-pedro @llsister @authorbriannarae13 @introvrtedjellyfish @aj0elap0l0gist @spencercmlover @cixrosie @cherrqbaby @cup-half-full-of-anxiety @kellyxo1 @freakbobcult @sunlightpleasure @barnes70stark @mooniscrying @ohnaurshayla @croissantbakerylws @nellispunk @kasienka @taylorswiftsrep-blog @emerencedaily @byzyz @noovaarq @kristend512

[ineedpaigebuckets]

like gravity

pt.1

little timeline series (no angst i'm sorry i suck at writing that)

anyways... here you go!!!

................

paige didn’t wanna be here.

her team had already played hours ago, but somehow everyone had convinced her to stay for the last game of the day. something about scouting. “good competition,” they said. “future teammates,” they said.

she didn’t care, not one bit. she was sweaty, starving, and already irritated from her knee acting up. these folding chairs weren’t built for this long of a sit. she was already planning her post-game chick-fil-a order in her head before the game even started.

that was all until number 35 checked in.

paige noticed within seconds, she moved like she was born to ball. smooth handle, tight braids, textbook three. not a hint of nerves on her face—just calm. like she had the whole floor mapped out in her head before she even crossed half court.

paige straightened up in her seat without meaning to.

her eyes followed the mystery girl across the court like it was involuntary—like gravity.

the way she crossed half court was too smooth. the kind of smooth that made paige suddenly hyper-aware of how sweaty her shirt felt clinging to her lower back.

she shifted in her seat. tried to look away. couldn't.

number 35 caught the ball in rhythm and let it fly from deep. swish. no rim. no reaction. just turned to run back like it was the most normal thing in the world.

paige blinked.

jesus christ.

she then leaned over to the teammate next to her—some guard she never really clicked with. “yo,” she said, eyes locked on 35, “what’s her name?”

the girl barely looked away from the court. “uh—that’s azzi fudd. she’s a year younger. dmv area. she’s cold.”

cold was an understatement. azzi was fucking ice. clean footwork, perfect form, eyes like she’d already seen the shot go in. paige couldn’t stop watching. couldn’t even pretend to care about anything else.

the name echoed.

azzi.

the name didn’t just bounce—it echoed. like someone had lobbed it into her head and it hit every wall on the way down.

by the time it reached her chest, paige felt like someone had pressed the pause button on her lungs.

she pressed a hand to her sternum.

was that her heartbeat?

or a warning?

she didn’t get like this. not for boys. and definitely not for girls.

her mouth was dry. her heart was trying to run a mile a minute.

she told herself it was the lighting in the gym. the long day. the hunger.

but even hours later, laying back in her hotel bed, sweat finally dried and her hair up in a messy bun, she couldn’t stop thinking about her.

azzi.

number 35.

dmv.

cold.

she pulled up instagram convincing herself she was just casually checking it. but, of course she searched “azzi fudd.” her profile popped up immediately. paige stared at the little blue follow button for longer than anyone should ever stare at a button.

her thumb hovered.

clicked.

she threw her phone across the room like it burned her.

her face down into the pillows.

a muffled scream.

what was that? what even was that?

she rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling like the answers were written in the popcorn texture.

it wasn’t love.

it wasn’t lust.

but it sure as hell wasn’t nothing.

it felt like gravity.

the kind that makes your knees shake. that throws your stomach off balance. that pins your whole body to one thought.

azzi.

and paige wasn’t used to not knowing what something was. she was always on point—in basketball, in interviews, with boys. she always had a script, a plan, a finish line.

but not for this. not for her.

she kept telling herself it was admiration. that was safe. that made sense. azzi was insanely talented. of course she respected her. that’s all it was.

she brushed her teeth that night with a little too much force, spit into the sink, and froze.

she stared into the mirror, into her own icy blue eyes.

she whispered, “i have a crush on a girl.”

like the words were made of fire.

like they might catch and burn her down.

she stared at herself in the mirror.

waited for her reflection to flinch.

it didn’t.

paige rubbed the back of her neck, jaw tight.

“no, I don’t.”

but even as she said it, the lie didn’t stick.

because her mind wasn’t saying no.

It was saying azzi.

over and over, like a fucking song stuck on repeat.

paige didn’t sleep much that night.

the next few days blurred by, until she saw it.

the guest list for the next usa basketball camp.

there it was. azzi fudd.

without thinking, she sighed of relief and dropped her phone on her chest like it was fate. like the universe had made a decision before she was ready to.

and maybe it had.

because weeks later, even on the first day of tryouts paige could stop thinking she had to do something.

maybe it was just a coincidence.

but paige wasn’t buying that.

because gravity doesn’t pull for just anyone.

and now, it had a name.

so even if she knew she'd embarrass herself, she tried.

⸻

@paigebueckers1:

yo

quick question

what size are the practice hoodies supposed to be

mine feels like a dress lol

@azzifudd:

umm i think they’re all big

mine goes to like mid thigh lol

@paigebueckers1:

okay phew

just making sure i didn’t get like… the wrong batch

or like the coach’s spare hoodie or something

@azzifudd:

😭😭😭

it's okay to admit you're a skinny white girl

elite genetics

@paigebueckers1:

true true

can’t teach length 😌

@azzifudd:

did u really dm me to ask about jersey sizes or was this just an excuse to talk to me 😏

@paigebueckers1:

…

u caught me

i panicked and that was the best i could come up with

her fingers hovered over the screen.

too much?

not enough?

god, what was she doing?

she barely knew this girl—had spoken like five actual words to her in person.

and now here she was, trying to flirt through hoodie sizing?

smooth, paige. real smooth.

@azzifudd:

solid effort

i’ll give u a 7/10

@paigebueckers1:

ouch

tough crowd

what do i have to do to earn a 10

paige pulled her hoodie up waiting for a response, the second her phone lit up it felt like her stomach flew to the moon.

@azzifudd:

maybe not open with fashion critiques next time 😭

@paigebueckers1:

okay but fr

u were really good today

like REALLY good

not just saying that

@azzifudd:

thank u

that means a lot

especially from u

@paigebueckers1:

from me??

@azzifudd:

yeah u know

the paige bueckers

everyone at camp literally loves u already

@paigebueckers1:

well

i only care if one person does 😳

@azzifudd:

oh??

who 👀

@paigebueckers1:

she’s kinda quiet

real good handles

cute laugh

lowkey bullied me about my hoodie 5 mins ago

@azzifudd:

sounds like she has taste

@paigebueckers1:

she really does

anyway

u free to watch a movie later in my room

or ur room

or literally any room u want

@azzifudd:

…

i’m in

but only if u promise not to judge my snack choices

@paigebueckers1:

deal

i’ll bring pretzels

and my massive hoodie

we can be matching

⸻

paige waited outside azzi’s dorm, butterflies exploding in her stomach.

she held her phone like it was a shield, checking the time even though she knew it was early.

her other hand tugged at the hem of her hoodie—the hoodie, the one she’d used as an excuse. now it felt too weird, too obvious, like it was screaming I LIKE YOU in all caps.

she could hear muffled voices down the hall. laughter. the distant sound of someone bouncing a ball. normal stuff. everything was normal.

except she was not normal. not right now.

she practiced what she was going to say at least six times, mouthing the words like a weirdo.

“hey.”

“what’s up?”

“so rom-coms or horror?”

ugh. awful. all of it.

her breath caught the second the door cracked open.

and there she was.

azzi.

hair pulled into a messy bun that was barely hanging on. a long-sleeve tee slipping off one shoulder. sweats slung low on her hips like she didn’t even think about it—like she didn’t know what it did to paige’s heartbeat.

she looked soft. and sleepy. and stupidly beautiful.

paige just stood there, completely blank.

azzi tilted her head, amused. “you gonna come in or…?”

“yeah,” paige managed, her voice barely working. “yeah. totally.”

azzi stepped aside and paige walked in, trying so hard not to look at her mouth. or her collarbone. or the way the room smelled like lavender and popcorn.

the lights were low, the TV already on idle. a comforter draped across the bed. snacks in a chaotic pile on the floor—cheetos, gummy worms, some trail mix that looked untouched.

paige sat cross-legged on the bed, hoodie bunched around her knees.

azzi flopped down next to her like they’d done this a hundred times. like this wasn’t new. like paige wasn’t internally combusting.

“you brought pretzels,” azzi said, grinning. “respect.”

“i keep my promises,” paige said, then instantly regretted how breathless she sounded.

azzi opened a bag of cheetos and popped one in her mouth, her lips stained red-orange. “so,” she said between bites, “what are we watching?”

paige blinked. “uh. literally anything. your pick.”

“dangerous,” azzi said, kicking her feet up beside paige’s. “i have weird taste.”

“i already figured that out,” paige teased, nudging her leg lightly.

and then—there it was.

azzi looked at her. just looked. not smiling. not joking. like she was seeing right through her.

the moment stretched too long, too quiet.

paige felt it again.

that gravity.

except now they were sharing it. stuck in it together.

and maybe that was the scariest part of all.

[colouredbyd]

Off-Script

chapter 1: scene 11, take 1

celebrity!sirius black x celebrity!reader

synopsis: in which one audition changes everything, and you find yourself growing up in the spotlight—alongside sirius black, a boy with a voice like smoke and a name the world won’t forget. the fame is loud, the rumors louder, and somewhere between the endless cameras and the harsh media, the lines begin to blur: between who you are and who you’re expected to be.

and, along the way, everything goes off-script.

warnings: anxiety, nervousness, cringe movie scripts (i tried my best), panic attacks, overthinking, and emotional vulnerability. disclaimer: this chapter features minors as characters since it’s intended as a flashback to how they first met; in later chapters, the characters will be older and adults.

wc: 4.8k next chapter

“Hi, I’m James Potter.”

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting a pair of round glasses and a grin so effortless it almost annoys you.

He’s tall, charming in that boyish way that makes you think he’s never had to try too hard at anything. And he’s holding out a hand like the two of you haven’t been sitting in the same holding room for the past hour, like you didn’t just watch him high-five every casting assistant and crack a joke with the lighting guy and befriend the green-screen lady.

You blink, gather your breath, and take his hand. “I’m Y/N—” 

You hesitate for half a second, but it’s more instinct than insecurity. 

“You look nervous,” he says, dropping into the seat beside you without waiting for an invitation.

He doesn’t say it unkindly—it’s more of an observation, like he’s stating the weather or that you’ve got a pen tucked behind your ear.

“I’m fine,” you say, but your thumb is still pressed against the margin of the script, smoothing over the same corner you’ve been folding and unfolding since you walked in.

“It’s the lines, isn’t it?” James leans over, peeking at your script.

“Everyone always gets stuck on that one monologue. It’s a beast. I couldn’t get through it without sounding like I was about to cry. Still can’t, but maybe that’s the point.”

You glance at him, surprised. “You struggled with it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he says easily. “I’ve been in this industry since I was in diapers and I still choke on the heavy stuff. My parents keep trying to convince me it’s all about breathing and honesty. But I think sometimes it’s just about surviving the scene.”

You try not to look visibly shocked. Of course you know who he is. Everyone does. Euphemia and Fleamont Potter—famous for their string of Emmy-winning series and flawless box office runs—are the brains behind this very show. Stranger Things. The dark, nostalgic, terrifyingly brilliant project that people have already started calling “genre-defining.” The Potters are its creators, directors, and executive producers. And James? He’s practically royalty.

You wonder, briefly, if he knows how impossible it is for someone like you to be here.

Because you didn’t grow up on studio lots. You didn’t take acting classes at age three or have your face printed on casting calls by age six. You came from a town where dreams like this stayed dreams. No famous family. No connections. Just a voice in your head telling you to try.

Now you’re here. Sixteen years old, freshly cast as one of the leads in the most anticipated show of the year, with a role that’s raw and strange and full of psychic powers and bleeding noses. You’re not even sure how you got it.

They haven’t officially announced the cast yet. There’s still one final audition round left, but the assistant told you it’s more of a chemistry read—just to see how you and the others move together. Still, the thought of it makes your heart pound.

This isn’t just a dream come true. It’s a dream with teeth.

James nudges your elbow lightly. “You’re gonna be brilliant, by the way.”

You blink. “What?”

“The scene. The whole thing. I can tell.” His smile softens, less flashy now, more real. “You’ve got this look in your eyes. Like you’ve already lived it.”

You don’t know what to say to that. So you just nod, and for the first time since you arrived, the room feels a little less sharp. The walls stop closing in.

James grew up with cameras in his face and scripts in his hands. This is his normal.

But he doesn’t make you feel small. He doesn’t throw it around like it means more than your quiet, trembling hands or your desperate need to belong.

“Are you nervous?” you ask, half-joking.

He grins. “Always. That’s how I know it matters.”

You smile back, the knot in your stomach loosening just a little.

“You want to run lines?” he offers, already pulling out his own copy of the scene, edges covered in messy ink.

You nod.

And for the first time since you got the call, the weight lifts. A little.

You’re still the only one who didn’t come from a famous family. Still the only one whose name means nothing in a casting room.

But James Potter is sitting beside you, reading your name like it belongs here. And maybe that’s a start.

You and James run lines for what feels like both forever and no time at all.

He reads with an ease that doesn’t feel showy. There’s no smugness, no performance for the sake of impressing you—he just lives in the scene.

He trips over words sometimes, laughs at strange directions, makes faces when something doesn’t make sense. It makes you feel lighter, like maybe this isn’t so impossible after all. Like maybe you don’t have to be perfect to be good.

At some point, your shoulders stop tensing at every noise. The studio hallway grows louder as more crew members shuffle past—assistants with clipboards, stylists with tangled garment bags, someone dragging what looks like a lighting rig across the floor—but their movement blurs into the background. You’ve got a rhythm now. A steady back and forth between pages, voices, breath.

Then a voice cuts through the hallway: “Remus Lupin? Scene ten, take nine—you’re up.”

James looks up and grins. “You’ll like Remus. He’s good. Kind of freakishly good, actually.”

But you don’t really hear James. Because after Remus, it’ll be you.

You try not to stiffen, but your fingers tighten around the script in your lap. You glance toward the casting room door—the one they’ll call you through next—and suddenly it’s harder to breathe.

James must notice, because he bumps your shoulder lightly. “Hey. You’re fine. You’ve got, like, twenty minutes.”

You nod, swallowing hard. “I think I’ll step out for a bit. Get some air.”

“Good idea,” he says easily, already gathering the pages between his fingers. “Don’t go far, and don’t psych yourself out.”

You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

The hallway is more crowded than when you first arrived, a blur of unfamiliar faces and tangled equipment. You walk briskly, turning toward the exit sign at the far end—except when you get there, it leads to another corridor, not outside.

The studio’s layout is a maze of white-painted walls, steel beams, and swinging doors with production labels. Voices bounce from room to room. The air is warm with stage lights and static.

You try another hallway. No exit. Just more people—tech crew, assistants, actors already in costume. Someone offers you a bottled water. Another brushes past you with a headset and a frown.

Still no fresh air.

You keep moving, further from the noise, until you find a stairwell tucked between two heavy doors. You climb, following the scent of dust and metal, up past the wardrobe floor, past the locked rehearsal studios, up to a plain gray door that hums faintly with the wind behind it.

It opens to the rooftop.

It’s quieter here—distant sirens, a low hum from the city beyond the studio walls. The sky is overcast but soft, the kind of light that makes everything look washed in nostalgia. You step forward slowly, as if not to disturb it.

From up here, the lot looks small. Even the casting room—the one that holds your future inside its four thin walls—seems like it couldn't possibly contain something as heavy as your dream. You sit down against the ledge, script still in hand, the pages fluttering slightly in the breeze.

You close your eyes for a moment, just to remember how it feels to breathe when no one is watching.

You close your eyes for a moment, just to remember how it feels to breathe when no one is watching.

But when you open them again, you realize you aren’t alone.

There’s a figure already at the far end of the rooftop, perched at the edge, his back to you. His legs dangle over open air, casually swinging like the hundred-foot drop beneath him means nothing.

You blink, startled. He hadn’t made a sound—not even the creak of movement on the metal ledge.

Your breath catches. “Hey—careful, you’ll fall off.”

The boy doesn’t move. For a second, you think maybe he didn’t hear you.

But then he sighs—loud and pointed—and turns his head slightly, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his face.

His eyes are red. Not tired, not irritated—red. The kind that only happens when someone’s been crying for a long time and didn’t have time to fix it before being seen.

“I’m fine,” he says flatly. Not annoyed. Not grateful. Just… blunt.

You take a step closer, slowly, like you’re trying not to spook a wounded animal. “You’re not really supposed to be sitting like that.”

“Then don’t look,” he mutters, eyes flicking back toward the skyline. His voice isn’t sharp, but it cuts anyway.

He’s dressed like someone who was supposed to be somewhere important earlier—pressed shirt, blazer half-slipped off one shoulder, tie loose and crooked. But his hair’s a little messy, and there’s a scuff on one of his shoes, and he looks like he got into a fight with the day and lost.

“I just—” You hesitate, but the words come anyway. “I didn’t think anyone would be up here.”

“Clearly.”

You bristle, despite yourself. There’s a part of you that wants to walk away. Let him stew in his rooftop silence and whatever disaster he’s currently avoiding. But there’s something in his posture—how rigid his shoulders are, how he won’t look at you—that stops you.

So instead of stepping back, you step forward. Right up to the ledge.

And then you climb onto it.

His head snaps toward you. “What are you doing?”

You settle beside him with more stubbornness than grace, gripping the edge for balance as your legs dangle beside his. “If you get to sit here, so do I.”

He frowns, the sharp line of his jaw tightening, a muscle twitching as if caught between restraint and something more volatile. “You could fall.”

“So could you,” you answer without hesitation, your voice calm but firm.

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” you tilt your head, meeting his eyes. “How?”

He opens his mouth like he has the answer ready—like he always does—but nothing comes. His jaw locks again, and for a moment, silence stretches between you, taut as wire.

“Because—” he starts, and then falters. The words catch in his throat. And when he speaks again, it’s thinner, almost like fear is threading through it. “Because I’ve been up here before. I know where the edge is.”

You glance out at the city skyline, the wind brushing against your cheek like a warning, and then back at him. “Then show me.”

He looks at you for a long second, a storm flickering in his gaze. Like he’s weighing the urge to lash out, to say something cold or careless to make you leave.

But something in your expression stops him. Because you’re not backing down. And maybe that’s what makes him pause. Maybe that’s when he sees it—the same quiet storm behind your eyes that mirrors his own. That same mix of anger and aching, of being brave when all you want to do is run.

His shoulders drop slightly, the tension bleeding out in a slow, reluctant breath. When he speaks again, it’s not angry anymore.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“You shouldn’t be up here alone,” you say, your voice soft but unwavering.

He huffs, a half-laugh that doesn’t reach his eyes. Still, he doesn’t look away. “You’re impossible,” he mutters under his breath, shaking his head.

“And you’re not?” you counter, the corners of your mouth tugging upward just a little.

His eyes flick to you again, sharper this time. Curious. Like he’s trying to make sense of you, to figure out why you keep showing up in all the places he thought he’d locked away for himself.

“What are you even doing up here?” he finally asks, voice low, frayed at the edges.

You shrug, trying to keep your tone casual even though your hands are starting to feel numb from the wind. “Auditions. I needed air.”

That gets his attention. He turns to you more fully, brows pulling together. “Wait—you’re here for Stranger Things?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

His stare sharpens. “Who are you cast as?”

You hesitate, just for a breath. “The girl. With the powers.”

His mouth drops open slightly. “Fuck.”

You blink. “What?”

He lets out a humorless laugh and rubs a hand over his face. “Just… of course. Of course it’s you.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why? What’s that supposed to mean?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just tips his head back toward the sky like it might answer for him. Then, with a sigh, he mutters, “I’m her love interest, Mike.”

There’s a beat of silence. A breeze cuts through, and suddenly you’re hyper-aware of how close you’re sitting, how this rooftop feels like a stage you didn’t mean to step onto.

“Wait,” you say, squinting at him. “So… who are you?”

He pauses for just a second too long. “Sirius. Sirius Black.”

You blink again, harder this time.

“You’re—Sirius Black?”

He grimaces. “Unfortunately.”

And that’s when it hits you. The name. The face. The headlines.

The Sirius Black. Probably the most well-known teen actor of his generation. Star of a dozen indie films, two major franchises, and one Oscar-buzz drama that made everyone collectively lose their minds when he was fourteen.

His mother, Walburga Black, hosts one of the most watched reality TV empires in the country, her name basically synonymous with Hollywood gossip.

His father, Orion Black, was once a golden boy actor in the 80s, now the executive force behind Black Pictures—one of the biggest production companies in the industry. The entire family reads like a film credits list. His uncles are actors. His aunts are Oscar-nominated. His godfather is the face of an entire perfume brand.

And you… you had to pick this rooftop.

“Oh,” you say faintly, the word barely brushing past your lips. “That makes sense.”

He snorts, bitter and tired. “Does it?”

You look at him again—really look. There’s a glassiness to his eyes, a kind of weight that doesn’t come from call sheets or cameras but from something older, quieter, and heavier. And for a moment, you’re not sure if he’s laughing at you or at himself.

“I mean,” you murmur, gaze steady, “it explains the dramatics.”

That earns the faintest twitch of a smile—subtle, almost like it slips through before he can stop it. “You’ve got guts,” he says, the words curling just slightly at the edges, “I’ll give you that.”

You don’t know who laughs first.

Maybe it’s him—Sirius Black, perched on the edge of a rooftop like it’s just another stage, muttering something dry that slices through the silence and all your tension with it.

Or maybe it’s you—because everything suddenly feels absurd. The audition, the pressure, the hours spent holding your breath, the way the city breathes beneath your feet.

You glance at him. He’s not smiling wide, not beaming, but there’s something there now—something pulled from beneath the stormcloud eyes and sharp cheekbones. A warmth that could almost be mistaken for light.

And then it hits you.

Your entire body jolts with the realization.

“Shit,” you breathe, the word tumbling out before you can stop it.

He glances over, one eyebrow lifting. “What now?”

“My audition,” you murmur, eyes already darting to the crumpled script poking out of your dress pocket. “Your name’s on my pages.”

He stares at you. “What?”

“You’re in the scene I’m auditioning with.” You fumble for the paper, smoothing it open between your hands. “It’s the one with the girl and the boy in the woods—the flashlight, the whole speech about being scared and doing it anyway.”

He leans slightly to peek at the page, and then groans. “Oh, that one.”

You nod. “That’s you.”

He shrugs, utterly unfazed. “Great. You’ve got it covered.”

“No, I don’t. I need to run it, with you.”

“I don’t rehearse,” he says simply, like it’s a personal philosophy.

You blink. “I’m sorry?”

“I don’t rehearse,” he repeats, dragging a hand through his hair. “Never really needed to. I show up, hit the mark, say the lines. People seem to like it.”

You just stare at him.

“Sirius fucking Black,” you mutter under your breath, turning toward him with a look that could split the moon in half. “You are going to rehearse with me.”

He looks almost amused. “Am I?”

You’re already climbing off the ledge, your white dress catching in the wind as you move fast, fueled by panic and adrenaline and something that feels dangerously close to raw determination.

“Whoa, whoa—hey!”

Before you can plant your feet back on the gravel safely, a hand grabs your wrist—tight, steady, pulling you back just enough.

“Fuck, be careful, angel,” he mutters, the words rushed and low like they’ve leapt out of him uninvited.

You pause.

Not because of the nickname (though it sparks something strange in your chest), but because he said it like he meant it. Like for half a second, the idea of you falling scared him more than anything else in this moment.

He’s still holding your wrist when you look at him.

“I’m fine,” you say, softer now. “I’ve got it.”

He lets go, slowly.

And then you square your shoulders, adjust the pages in your hand, and lift your chin. “We’re doing this scene.”

“I just said—”

“You are going to rehearse with me!” you repeat, voice sharper now.

“Because I am going to get this fuckass role. I don’t care how many Emmys your uncle has, or how many magazine covers your face is on.  I didn’t crawl my way into this building to have some nepotism prince brush me off like I’m decoration!”

His eyes go wide, a flicker of something wild and admiring sparking in them.

And then he bursts out laughing.

Full, deep laughter. The kind that echoes off the rooftop walls and makes your blood boil.

“Stop laughing!” you snap.

He just keeps laughing, wheezing now, hands on his knees. “You—you just said fuckass role.”

“I’m serious!”

“No, I’m Sirius.”

You groan, glaring.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Okay, okay. You’re terrifying.”

“Good.”

He straightens up, brushing off the edge of his jeans. “Fine. Let’s rehearse. But only because you threatened me.”

You cross your arms. “I did no such thing.”

“You dragged me off a ledge like some kind of homicidal fairy.”

You shrug. “Desperate times.”

He looks at you for a long moment. The wind plays with the edge of your dress, your hair, the papers clutched in your hand. And you swear he softens—just slightly. The edge in him easing, curiosity replacing arrogance.

“All right.” He tugs a folded script from the inside pocket of his leather jacket and waves it in the air. “Let’s see if you’re any good, then.”

Your eyes narrow. “I’m excellent.”

“We’ll see.”

You step back, flipping to the right scene, clearing your throat. The wind tugs at the corners of your script and your dress, but your hands are steady now. He leans against the ledge, eyes half-lidded and unreadable, and waits for you to begin.

The rooftop isn’t a stage. The city doesn’t quiet for your lines. No one’s watching.

But you speak like someone’s listening.

And when you finish the scene—when the last word hangs between you, raw and electric—Sirius doesn’t say anything for a long time.

He just looks at you.

Like he sees something he didn’t expect.

Like maybe, you belong here after all.

Sirius taps the edge of your script with a knuckle. “Alright, angel. Scene 10. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

You raise a brow. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he says, dropping into an easy stance like he’s done this a thousand times before.

His posture shifts, the smirk tucks itself away, and suddenly he’s someone else entirely—Mike, the boy trying to hold a flashlight steady while the world around him falls apart.

You take one breath, then another, then step into the moment.

Scene 10. Forest. Mike and Eleven, side by side in the dark.

The lines you’ve memorized a dozen times spill out, but this time they don’t feel rehearsed. Sirius listens like he’s never heard them before, and when he speaks, it’s with a weight that grounds the scene.

The words aren’t magic—but they do something close. The space between you vibrates with the rhythm of shared silence, tension, emotion. It’s short, but by the time you reach the last line—“It’s not about what we lost. It’s about what we’ve still got.”—the quiet that follows feels earned.

Sirius exhales and gives you a crooked smile. “You’ve got timing.”

You shrug, but your heart beats louder than before.

Without a word, he grabs the scripts from your hands and plops down cross-legged on the rooftop floor. “Let me see.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you always this—”

“Collaborative,” he cuts in, uncapping a marker from his jacket pocket. “Now sit. We’ve got work to do.”

His annotations are a mess of arrows and looping words. He circles beats, draws dashes for pauses, and jots little notes like don’t rush this or breathe here. His handwriting is barely legible, but the edits are precise, focused.

“Pause here. This line’s too heavy to throw away,” he murmurs. “And this? Keep your voice low. Not scared—just… holding back.”

You watch him, amused. “You always direct your scene partners?”

“Only when they can actually act,” he says, glancing up.

You snort. “Is that a compliment?”

“Don’t push it.”

The corner of your mouth quirks, and he flips to the next page.

Scene 11.

He hums. “Ah. That one.”

You know immediately. The basement scene. The one where Mike—Sirius’s character—fake proposes to Eleven, your role, just to get her to talk again. You’ve read it so many times that the dialogue is practically carved into your bones.

He reads over the first few lines and chuckles. “This is so dumb.”

“It’s not dumb,” you argue lightly. “It’s sweet. In a stupid, manipulative way.”

Sirius makes a face. “Exactly.”

Still, he stands, brushing dust off his jeans. “Come on, then. Let’s get this over with.”

You both take position, scripts half-forgotten at your feet.

He steps into the part quickly, voice shifting into something earnest and awkward—Mike trying to coax Eleven out of silence with a ring made from a candy wrapper and desperation.

“Okay,” he says, kneeling dramatically. “Since you clearly won’t talk to me like a normal person… I guess there’s only one thing left to do. I hereby propose. Like—on one knee and everything.”

You fold your arms. Stay silent.

“Wow. Rejected without mercy,” he mutters, then softens. “You haven’t talked to me in. Do you hate me?”

You look down, breathe. “No.”

“You’re mad?”

“No.”

“Then why—”

“Because I’m scared.”

The words slip out soft, but true. And Sirius looks at you differently this time—more like Mike, less like the boy who called you angel and handed you his marker.

A silence follows that isn’t awkward, only real.

Then Sirius lets out a low whistle. “Damn. You’ve got this.”

You let yourself smile. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Please,” he grins. “I’m Sirius Black.”

You roll your eyes, but something in your chest loosens. For the first time, the role doesn’t feel like something you're chasing. It feels like something already yours.

Sirius plucks your script off the ground again, flipping back to Scene 11 like he isn’t still grinning from your fake rejection five minutes ago.

“Well, angel,” he says, stretching out on the rooftop like it’s his living room, “if you’re gonna turn me down, at least let me immortalize it.”

He grabs his marker—still uncapped, still bleeding slightly at the edges—and scribbles something in the margin next to your line: SAY IT LIKE YOU’RE LYING TO YOURSELF.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, leaning over his shoulder.

He shrugs. “Exactly what it sounds like. Don’t act like you’re scared of him—act like you’re scared of what he means.”

You blink at him. “Since when are you an actor and a psychologist?”

He grins, toothy and easy. “Since five minutes ago. I’m multitalented.”

You’re still laughing when the rooftop door slams open behind you.

A crew member stands in the doorway, breathless and wide-eyed. “There you are—we’ve been looking for you for ten minutes! Are you out of your minds? You’re both up next!”

Your stomach drops.

Sirius just stretches, calmly dusting off his jeans. “We got a little carried away. It’s fine.”

“It is not fine!” the woman shouts, already dialing someone on her headset. “Come on, let’s go!”

You scramble to your feet, panic rising like a tide you can’t swim against. Ten minutes. That’s forever in this world—enough time for a casting director to change their mind, to offer your role to someone shinier, someone with the right last name.

You clutch your script to your chest as you follow Sirius down the narrow stairwell, and your thoughts spiral with every step—they’re going to hate me, I ruined it, I lost it, I lost it—

“Hey.” Sirius’s voice cuts through the static, and then—his hand on your wrist.

He stops midway down the stairs, turning you to face him. “Hey. Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are steadier than you’ve seen them all day, quiet in a way that feels almost reverent.

“You’re fine. You haven’t lost anything. Just breathe, alright?”

You shake your head, heart pounding too loud in your ears. “They’re going to be mad. They’re going to say I’m unprofessional—”

“Shh.” He shifts his grip, then with his free hand, pulls the marker from his pocket again.

And slowly, gently, he starts drawing stars along the inside of your wrist—five-pointed, slightly smudged, looping together like constellations only he can see.

It takes you a second to notice that your breathing’s slowed.

The panic eases.

You glance down at the ink-dusted trail of stars blooming across your skin. “How did you… know to do that?”

Sirius freezes for a beat too long.

Then he looks away, tucking the marker back into his pocket. “My brother. Sometimes he… gets like that.”

You want to ask more, but something in his expression tells you not to. His shoulders stiffen, the familiar armor sliding back into place. The charm, the cool detachment—it’s all back by the time you reach the studio door.

But the stars stay on your wrist.

The second the studio doors swing open, chaos swallows you whole.

It’s brighter than you expect—overhead lights casting a sterile glow across the soundstage, voices overlapping as crew members rush to and from set, someone shouting about blocking, someone else dragging a lighting rig across the floor. You blink against it all, suddenly unsure where to look, where to stand, how to exist.

And then—

“There you are!” James.

He jogs over, looking mildly out of breath, strands of his messy hair falling over his glasses. Relief flashes across his face when he sees you, and then it shifts—warms—when his eyes land just beyond your shoulder.

“Sirius,” James breathes.

And Sirius lights up.

Like a switch flipped. The edges of him soften, melt. That cool indifference disappears entirely as he grins, almost boyishly, and throws his arms around James in a way that’s too fast to think about and too real to be scripted.

“God, I haven’t seen you in forever,” Sirius mutters into James’s shoulder, and you swear—for half a second—he sounds like a different person.

“Thought you were ditching the project,” James teases, clapping him on the back.

“Almost did.”

James pulls away, looking over at you. “You met Y/N, yeah? She’s playing the girl with powers. She’s incredible.”

You smile, shy under the weight of his praise. But before you can say anything—

“Hello, darling.”

A voice, smooth and warm and unmistakably in charge, cuts through the air. A woman strides over, sharp black heels clicking on the floor. Her hair is pinned up perfectly, lips a red that looks expensive, and the way everyone parts around her—it tells you everything you need to know.

Euphemia Potter. The director.

She reaches for your hand like you’ve already earned the role and says your name like she’s been waiting to meet you for months.

“I’ve heard about you,” she says, voice honeyed. “And I just want you to know—don’t worry about a thing. You’re here because you belong here. Okay?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. But something in your chest eases.

“And this,” she says, glancing over her shoulder, “is my husband, Fleamont. Producer. He’ll pretend he’s not a softie, but he cried over Scene 9.”

He gives you a polite smile and a knowing wink.

Before you can process any more, a crew member in a headset appears beside you, clipboard in one hand, clapperboard in the other.

He looks between you and Sirius, then lifts the board slowly.

“Alright,” he calls out, voice carrying across the set, grounding the room in sudden stillness.

A spotlight clicks on overhead.

The crew goes quiet. Everyone freezes.

You take your mark. Sirius takes his.

And the board rises. 

“Scene 11, take 1.” Snap.

The clap cuts through the silence, sharp and final.

And in that breathless second after the sound dies—everything begins.

Sirius turns to face you in the darkened basement set, his expression already shifting. The cameras roll, the lights hum, and the line between fiction and reality dissolves like sugar in water.

And just like that, the scene begins.

-

a/n: idk why i cringed so much writing this (i promise pt 2 is much better) anyways, thoughts?

oh and, before anyone comments it; no reader won't be bald like eleven, she has hair.

[daisukoth]

So you know how i was saying that I'm hoping susie gets her own set of horrors?

Well, so far she has:

1) watched ralsei have an existental crisis and how she should stop caring about him and the other darkners

2) was having a heartfelt convo with tenna before the knight showed up and tenna got ripped to shreds

3) nearly got the snot beaten out of her by the knight

4) had to deal with her crush's abusive mother and not only likely triggering her own trauma but also be unable to help her crush

5) we find out she wasnt allowed to learn how to play an instrument

6) we find out she knows how to clean up blood?????????????????

7) felt bad about her ability to heal for like, half a chapter

8) her best friend is part of a conspiracy and is working against her (I know kris probably means no harm but like that still sucks, they clearly care about her and their friendship is really cute but they are clearly working against her and intentionally keeping that fact in the dark)

9) find the remains of a dead person, a dead person she was just talking with earlier and bonded with

10) gets told to pass a note from him to his son from beyond the grave

11) said old dead guy then tries to beat her up but for real because she tried to bring him from the dead a second time and he came back wrong (SERIOUSLY THAT WAS FUCKED MY POOR GIRL)

12) tries to heal the old man, then fcuking sees WHAT LOOKS LIKE HIS SKELETAL ANIMATED REMAINS

13) WATCHES RALSEI DISINTEGRATE THOSE REMAINS

14) Watch ralsei have another breakdown

15) something about the prophecy is fucked and shes GOING to find out even tho ralsei doesnt want her to and not even tho she doesnt want to anymore (my prediction is that shes not the monster from the prophecy, considering she looks nothing like the picture and we had a whole scene where susie talks about how she has never been picked for something before, there is a reason she can keep going "off script" she's not even part of it)

16) the knight beats her abd her friends up again! While theyre trying to make it up to the knight

17) gets laughed at by the knight

18) WITNESSES A COSMIC GOD BEYOND HER COMPREHENSION AND HAD TO FIGHT IT

19) nearly dies for real multiple times

20) OH BTW POINT 15? I WROTE THAT BEFORE GETTING TO THE END. She still gets flashbanged by that infohazard despite Ralsei's attempts. She acts like she isnt affected by it but the fact it fucked with her bad enought that she smashed it with her own hand rather than with her axe? My girl got a taste of forbidden knowledge and its fucking with her BAD (enough for her to smear the blond on ralsei's face and not even realise, dear lord, these kids are giving the vibes of a doomed sburbs session)

21) begins to hear the song from the sea the infohazard is DEFINETLY getting to her

22) has to witness sans and toriel doing... that (what? That counts as a horror! )

23) is so fucked from all that she decides to go to... wherever she lives despite how we have SEEN how she prefers to stay at kris's house

24) despite hwo kris obviously wants to follow her, because whatever conspiracy they are involved with they cant, so she doesnt even get to have the comfort of kris joining her as she goes back to wherever she lives

25) she has to go to her shitty "home" that she doesnt even refer to as home in the rain, shes gonna get soaked and cold

...

At least susie got to fight with gerson (the real one) one more time?

Man, i cant believe that i was worried that susie wouldnt get much focus

Anyway I BETTER see everyone love and appriaciate susie now, as I continue to do so

I am intrested in the weird route but i gotta marianate over susie horrors before i can digest white girl horrors i mean noelle horrors (not to be mean to noelle but you know... Love her a lot and im glad she and susie got to have a cute hang out together but I'm glad susie got a lot of time in the spotlight)

(Also noelle is so fucking rich, God. Enough noelle is intimated by susie fics I need more susie gets intimidated by noelle's fucking house fics. I remember when I was little visiting my crush's house for her birthday party and realising that she is a lot richer than I thought, that's shit is scary. Really efficient at making you feel out of place. Especially if you're susie and you get direct confirmation from your crush's mom that you're not welcome)

God susie has so many sad, defeated, stressed out, pained expressions these two chapters

This is like when I saw Battler's crying sprite in umineko and went "damn okay i guess i feel for him no" except im already attached to susie because shes susie so this hurts 10000000000000x more

Also she says dunked on as she jumps into the titans face cavity with kris, I love her

I understand why toby was so exausted from keeping susie from the world

ALSO WDYM TOBY? WDYM CHAPTER 5 IS COMING IN 2026??? I NEED TIME TO PROCESS

HELL FUCK YES. SUSIE FANS ATE SO GOOD THIS CHAPTER!! A REAL SMORGASBORD!!!

I cant believe I almost lost faith in that dog.... I knew Toby was gonna deliver in the actual game!!!! Susie is fr becoming the protagonist of the game atp.. And its completely deserved. MY GOAT! MY KING!!

edit: Yeah im also taking a long break before checking in the weird route. The one thing I saw disturbed me so bad I felt sick and needed a break. I am definitely not playing this myself. >(Also noelle is so fucking rich, God. Enough noelle is intimated by susie fics I need more susie gets intimidated by noelle's fucking house fics. I remember when I was little visiting my crush's house for her birthday party and realising that she is a lot richer than I thought, that's shit is scary. Really efficient at making you feel out of place. Especially if you're susie and you get direct confirmation from your crush's mom that you're not welcome) THIS IS SO REAL! nobody explores enough the class difference here, its very interesting to me. Like, Susie talking about how she needed to steal the game from lost and found to play, while Noelle owns so many of the games... And Noelle offering the game to her, and asking if she wants to do all the stuff she cant afford with her.. They're cute..

>This is like when I saw Battler's crying sprite in umineko and went "damn okay i guess i feel for him no" except im already attached to susie because shes susie so this hurts 10000000000000x more LOL SAME

>I understand why toby was so exausted from keeping susie from the world FMKALSMGLAGKA YEAH. I WAS TIRED OF WAITING, BUT I CAN ONLY IMAGINE HOW TOBY FELT, NOT EVEN BEING ABLE TO FORESHADOW ANYTHING IN THE WEB EVENTS

[wintersoulwitch]

Stage/Fright second viewing - changes/things I noticed

Right finally home after that epic cross-country slog via National Express! Currently feeling like I never want to leave my house ever again... but we all know I'm checking the box office website every day in case another decently priced Saturday ticket appears... And now thinking that other events (eg BFI screenings) that I'd previously written off as impossible are more attainable than I'd thought.

Anyway, enough about me. You're here for Stage/Fright deets.

This time I was in the Grand Circle, so way up at the top. I was able to see the whole stage at once, unlike during my first viewing. And I could see that there were bronze hare ears poking up from one of the boxes!

The violinists were in matching sequined gowns - they looked sort of plum-coloured? And when they played the intro to act 1, there were shadows projected onto the red theatre curtain, like the chair with restraints that is used in act 2.

This time I noticed that Toby (Reece's understudy) came on stage first, then left and was replaced by Reece. That totally passed me by during my first watch, and I think it was because I was just so excited to recognise/realise that they were doing the "theatre audience" material, and then once Reece was in front of me my brain short-circuited and wiped all thoughts apart from "omg he's so beautiful."

I don't know if this is a change, or if I wasn't able to see them clearly last time, but I noticed spotlights being used to highlight people at various points. Like, when R&S did their opening talk to the audience after the intro there was a large spotlight on the both of them when they were centre stage, and it split into two smaller separate follow spots when they moved apart.

I spotted a couple of differences/tweaks in the BCDR/Kidnappers section in the first half - I'll do a separate post about that.

During the Elements Song this time I saw that different jars and bottles on the shelves lit up as Reece pointed at them: "And iodine 💡 and thorium 💡 and thulium 💡and thallium 💡"

They've changed the wheelchair that Reece uses in Act 2. During the first night preview (which I didn't attend), Reece was brought on to the stage and then restrained in the chair. In the show I saw last week, he was already in the wheelchair, and it was this big wooden thing. This time, it's a smaller and simpler metal wheelchair. And it makes the leg-cutting illusion look better, honestly! Much harder to see where Reece might be hiding his real leg.

They’ve changed the script a bit at the end before the final song and dance number - now instead of the bus joke, Reece hurries Steve off stage and says "you’ve got a really quick change." And then walks to the front of the stage, picks up the fallen light that "killed" Steve and says "it’s time for some light entertainment."

And some stuff that people asked me to keep an eye out for... R&S touching each other. They don’t touch in the opening section, and then in BCDR it’s just when Len smacks Tommy on the arse (and Tommy goes "ooh hoo!" and does a little jump). The most touching is during the bit in the 2nd act when Steve breaks character and hugs Reece. The hug goes on for a while and when Steve pulls back he leaves his hand on Reece’s chest/holding on to the cardigan Reece is wearing for a moment like he doesn’t want to let go. During the song and dance at the end, at the bit where he jokes "Reece Shearsmith stole my diary," Steve does put his hand on Reece’s shoulder/back of neck in that way he does. And then during the final curtain call they hold hands before the bow. Just R&S at first, then they hold hands with the rest of the cast.

Oh and after Reece says "maybe every ghost story is really just a love story" and there's that long pause... they are staring into each others' eyes the whole time. And the carnations... There's been a change! During the final song and dance the men have different flowers in their buttonholes. They were definitely carnations the first time I saw them - and I assume real ones otherwise they wouldn’t have changed them - but the flowers this time were more like floofy white puffs of silk in a flower shape.

I also wanted to note that they seemed much more comfortable with the song and dance routine this time. They weren't awkward before by any means, but they've definitely relaxed into it and really seem to be having fun. I think giving Steve a bit more time to change has helped (the first time I saw them, Steve's shirt front rolled up a bit to show his black top underneath). We all know Reece is a mover (he could have won Strictly, you know! And not just as the comedy one!) and it was super lovely to see him getting into it and doing all his little leg kicks and hand waves. He really seemed to be enjoying himself.

Finally at the very end, when they do the final "laughter is my memory of you" they now start off like they're going to point at each other, then pause and spin to the audience instead. Which is a really nice touch!

[subwaytostardew]

▽ Subway to Stardew - Emmet 8-Heart Event ▽

This plays after getting at least 8 hearts with Emmet and entering the Railroad between 9AM - 4PM on a Thursday after viewing his 7 heart event.

You recieve this letter when you reach 8 hearts with Emmet!

Commentary and progress under the readmore.

▷ Station Steward Thylak

I DID NOT REALIZE THAT THIS EVENT WOULD BE THAT LONG... I could have sworn it was around 14 minutes max! I was worried that the battle stuff went by too quickly! It's almost 30 minutes long! And that's with me clicking away faster! Emmet really meant it when he said he wanted to spend all the livelong day together...

I thought it was going to be roughly 18 minutes. NOPE. WOOPS. This what happens when you write possibly too much.

We are bad at making short events. Vanilla events are around 1-3 minutes long. A day in Stardew lasts 14 minutes and 10 seconds. I would not recommend trying to play this mod spoiler free on multiplayer because time does not freeze and you will die if you don't skip the events. I wouldn't want to shorten the events either... Cutting down their infodumps would just be wrong.

We had a few requests to have a battle event which made me 😅 because I personally couldn't imagine that going well (truth over ideals...). This event was partially made to shut that idea down. The whole tunnel scene is mostly me trying to write an in-story reason as to why there won't be a battle with the farmer against Ingo... Emmet is competitive! This is not just limited to battles but extends to being your best friend! Behind the scenes... I'm just too tired to write out more battles. I actually really dislike single battle format. I'm not making an Ingo battle event. You already have three games to battle him in. I refuse to make more battle events for the time being.

I say that but there's another half-finished double battle event between submas that I switched tracks from to work on Emmet's 8 heart event... I'll finish that eventually.

Anyways... the creation process did not go by quickly at all either. I sure do have a lot to say on that matter. I do all my coding in google docs (terrible, I know) and so far we have had to make 3 seperate documents becuase things start to break at around 40 pages. The document before Emmet's 8 heart event made it to 64 pages before I abandoned it for a new document.

The longest document we have is around 80 pages along. Which usually contain the draft scripts of multiple events. code documents however take up a lot more since it's basically a giant wall of text. So when Emmet's 8 heart event started to slow down the current code document (the third iteration). We had to give the event its own space.

Emmet's 8 heart event ended up being 36 pages long alone! Also if you didn't know, Stardew's event format doesn't allow for line breaks so I have been staring at a 36 page wall of text for weeks. I plan to upload a video compiling all the different options later because I feel like all of the "good" options for battle... don't quite make sense in the context of the rest of the story. The farmer is supposed to not be good at battle and lose because they got overwhelmed with information. As the one writing out all the battle options though, I can't bring myself to act like I'm bad at battling. The winning options are extra silly just to justify a loss and because I couldn't bring myself to lie about Wild Charge not being a guaranteed OHKO on Archeops either. Especially since Emmet brings out damage calculations in a few of the options.

On that topic, all of the battle options play out accurately in a real double battle! I tested. Every. Single. Path. In Pokemon Showdown between the halves of Emmet's team.

I had nightmares of reliving this same battle over and over because that's all I did when I was awake. Make it stopppppp 😭

The lines about them practicing were references to me actually simulating everything in Showdown! Emmet's frustration is also based on how making this event took over my brain so now I struggle to comprehend how someone who doesn't know what to do in this battle would feel... Thank you Kade for helping me with that part ^^;;;

Your welcome =3

I actually enjoyed the Pokémon Showdown part - when it comes to Pokémon Battles, I have dabbled a little bit into the competitive side of things. Or at least the massive game of 4D Chess... trying to predict your opponent etc. Bait them into making a mistake, etc. There was a good time where we did nothing but Pokémon Battles for a night. And it was fun.

I am in no way good at competitive side of things - (I lose lot but that's okay.) especially in the double battle format. Single Battles I could do. (Though once again, I'm average at best) However I think the most memorable battle I ever had was back in Pokémon X and Y, where I managed to chip away and stall a Mega Aggron with a Umbreon.. And I think Umbreon was my last Pokémon but I kept using Moonlight to keep my health up. My kid self was super surprised and ecstatic that I beaten the odds... but whenever I do Pokémon Showdown I'm either testing battle stuff or making teams. I'm addicted to team compositions and doing a combination of different Pokémon even if it's not the competitive Meta....

I have the choices sorted into good/bad routes in my mind so in most of the routes, Emmet criticizes the player's decisions based on type advantage, STAB, and target. I was torn between the best and worst options for this recording but thanks to Kade's input, you get to see Durant ramming into Emmet instead of him getting mad at you for conducting Shadow Claw on Galvantula.

Battling Emmet as a first time trainer is not going to go well! Not only is he too competitive and he refuses to let you win (unlike Ingo), he pretty much sets you up for failiure. I'm sorry Emmet but Galvantula's stats are not intended for making her a physical attacker (emphasis on the Egg Move at what cost...).

Not to mention... Emmet is a Battle Facility Head. And you don't get to battle the Subway Bosses in the mainline games unless you have a somewhat decent team halfway through the game. Even still! They can both wipe the floor with you if you're not aware that they are using battle items...

Though I interpret Emmet not going easy on someone as him challenging them to push themselves and exceed expectations. Both Ingo and Emmet as characters encourage others in their own way, Ingo through words and Emmet I believe through his actions. Though he also can say some encouraging things.

Not the most encouraging if you compare their quotes pages... Customer service and communication isn't exactly his forte... But Emmet wants you to do your best and win against him! He likes seeing serious battlers like him! He just won't let you win unless if you push yourself to do your best. You'll have to. He doesn't really have the most beginner-friendly approach...

Considering you the Farmer, have no idea what a Pokémon even is. (You're practically learning everything from Ingo, Emmet, Elesa etc.) The fact you get challenged to a Battle because Emmet wants to share his interests with you - to have you better understand Pokémon.

He just struggles with the fact that, he is essentially challenging someone with no real battle experience and it's a Double Battle at that. Controlling two Pokémon at once?! Think about the effort it takes to command one Pokémon. We all seen the Anime and how trainers struggle to connect with their partners because they're new. They're just starting. They aren't going to be Battle Facility levels of skill.

Not to mention that Emmet is a little deprived in the valley and hasn't really battled any other new passengers in quite some time. At most, he battled Iris once when she came to visit, Ingo (who's Pokemon are optimized for countering/pissing him off), and himself (I had the mental image of him sitting in the field practicing for this event like an old man playing chess against himself in a park). He's a little too far gone to fully understand what a beginner would think in this situation other than mayyyybe it would take a moment to catch them up to speed. (I would know... I swear those option paths rewired my brain...)

After inputting all of their data into Showdown, I had actually forgotten that Galvantula and Durant are Emmet's Doubles Line team while Eelektross and Archeops are the Super Doubles Line team when deciding the matchups. (Been a while since they were in the Battle Subway huh...) Story-wise, I was thinking that Emmet should be with his ace and that he wouldn't really trust anyone else with Archeops since... he has higher support needs (depression bird 💔). Eelektross and Archeops are paired up because of Gastro Acid and Defeatist. I was thinking that Galvantula and Durant are a bit more beginner-friendly; they can take a loss a bit more easilly (a little less so in Galvantula's case... she's a hater). The farmer had already met Durant earlier in the 4-heart event so he'd volunteer to return the favor of fighting for you. Once you win his trust, he's more than happy to help. As for Galvantula... She's testing to see if she can trust her clingy child with you.

I'm excited to dive into the Pokémon NPC stories... Durant and Excadrill especially.

Durant was originally going to have Choice Scarf instead of Quick Claw to help narrow down the options. It was a pain reorganizing my notes and options all over again to lump not only move choices but turn order in mind. My notes were a mess.

Durant and Galvantula are a very luck-based combination so it was ultimately easier to write the different option paths with that in mind since Stardew's event format is verrrrrrrrrrrry linear. All of the options need to merge back into the same event (well... besides the option to refuse his friendship/battle which ends the event in the tunnel). Durant has lowered accuracy while Galvantula has higher critical hit ratios, I could write the battles based on their luck which is great because I wanted to force a loss.

I thought it would be a little too... reductive (it sure would reduce the amount of content >.>) and unrealistic for the player to impress Emmet with a victory on their first battle. Emmet sees this battle as a test on if you can follow his train of thought and be a good match for him because he's a little bit dependent on you for emotional regulation. He kind of expects you as his favorite passenger to have twin telepathy like Ingo since that's his standard operating procedure. You won't. Because you're not Ingo. You're just some weird farmer he got attached to. With the setup of a battle, I wanted this event to develop the farmer and Emmet's relationship to show that they aren't exactly perfect for each other (and Will say things that can be wrongly misinterpreted) but ultimately they will put in the effort to communicate and make things work. They won't have the best communication! But it's there.

While Ingo has a proper library confession, this event doubles as Emmet's "confession" of sorts. Emmet is already pretty openly affectionate by this point and I wanted to make it somewhat ambiguous as to whether or not his attachment to you is romantic or strictly platonic. To him, it doesn't really matter, but he does want you all to himself. He's not fond of sharing!

But... While Emmet's event may be more platonic in intent, you can still reject him. It's a lot harsher than Ingo's because refusing to even let him try to be a better friend for you is pretty harsh in itself. Ingo's is mostly the choice of whether or not you want to send him back to 6 hearts for more dialogue variety (it's really easy to miss dialogue when you try to max out their hearts as soon as possible! We're making lines for every day, season, and heart level.) Rejecting Emmet sends you back to 2 hearts and overrides his daily dialogue for the day with him asking if you're still friends, apologizing, and then getting too upset to say anything more.

Anyways!

From the start, I wanted Emmet to be like Nemona; awkward in their attachment, somewhat intimidating in their obsession/competitiveness, and thinks of the player as their savior from loneliness. He wants to be the best friend you have because you're the best friend he has. It's only fair. Best rival for life, favorite passenger, same thing.

The mountain pass events were actually made because Emmet's original schedule included him waiting around near the bushes there like Nemona stalking the player on their gym journey. NPCs actually can't path there so when he did, he was just deleted from the save!

I also stumbled across a bug back when I made the very first introduction event where a question loops unless if you pick a certain option. I kept that with Emmet forcing you to keep battling with him in mind as a slight reference to how Nemona doesn't let you say no to being her "best rival for life". This question also makes SMAPI hate you!

Gotta love Pokémon's false sense of 'Sure you have a choice. Your choice is always YES.'

There's probably a more fitting flower for Emmet outside of poppies. I just looked up every flower in Stardew (some of them aren't real...) and their meanings in flower language to come to the conclusion of poppies. The meanings in Emmet's event refer to the white poppy in particular. White. Rest. Oblivion. It fits. Good enough. It was a bit difficult to find more on the flower language of poppies in English (particularly the "Oblivion" part) so I resorted to Japanese sites for more information.

In English, the meaning of "Rest" seems to precede every other meaning. Poppies are used in death memorials. Emmet and the farmer did accidentally develop a shared theme of dying (overwork exhaustion, slimes, the mines, etc... Emmet can't get a break. I'm sorry.) but I wasn't sure if Kade was okay with the theme of death being emphasized. With that in mind, I was stunned when I that saw that her first battle map draft included a graveyard. The implication that Emmet picked flowers from a memorial site...

In my mind - the area is an old train stop in between the desert area and the forest/mountains that lead into Pelican Town. Also figured there would be an abandon farm - considering how Pelican Town is struggling it makes sense that potentially other places are not in best of shape either.

The graveyard is possibly dead relatives of whatever family or farmer made their life near the rails. Of course a lot of time has passed... So much so that nature has taken back what was theirs in the first place.

I always make up stories when having a location in mind and this area parallels with the tunnel Ingo takes you through to stargaze around 10 hearts. That area being an abandon coal mining operation.... Coal, Wood, etc. was used to powered steam trains so makes sense for there to be a source for it. I'm not the best when it comes to filling up Tiled Maps with decor - but I at least put down enough for Thylak to come in and make it more fitting for Stardew

The battlefield underwent quite a few revisions, one was having the battle area be more centered, and changing the old warehouse/worker area to be more like a train repair station with a water stop. I wanted it to feel like a place where Emmet goes to keep himself busy when he's told to take a break from working on the station.

Here's the final map! The battle area had to be shrunken down to fit in an event. More grass was added because I kept losing track of Joltik in the dirt. There's more flowers for Emmet to observe the quality of and pick tge best ones as gifts that he's too nervous to give the farmer until they wilt and dry. Poppies by the gravestones, of course!

I also did attempt to make a proper scrapbook sprite for when I eventually have Emmet give you his gift, but I never got around to implementing it properly since... I'm not familliar with adding custom items and its implementation changes in the 1.6 update.

Despite having access to the modding alpha, I've been procrastinating on migrating to 1.6 since HD Portraits isn't supported yet (I know... 1.6 releases in 3 weeks...).

WOO 1.6 WE ARE NO WHERE NEAR READY FOR ALL THE STUFF THAT POSSIBLY GOING TO BREAK. LOL.

Until next time! Thank you for reading!

[geometricfractal]

Today I called my House rep and raked him over the coals for voting in favor of the horrendous budget resolution yesterday. It wasn’t easy for me to be angry over the phone, but it was worth it.

I’ve been calling my congressional representatives nearly every day for three weeks now. I’ve never done this before. I always knew I should, but using the phone is hard, and scary, and I just couldn’t do it. I hate talking on the phone. But what I learned, in these three weeks, is that nothing stops the dread spiral quite like doing an Act of Democracy. And calling Congress is actually quite a doable Act of Democracy.

So now, with three whole weeks of experience, I want to share my new Three Easy Steps for Calling Your Reps.

1. Decide what you’re going to say. I typically take a script from Chop Wood Carry Water or the 5 Calls app and then edit it to sound more like myself. But you don’t even have to edit it. You can just go to 5 Calls or something similar, choose an issue, and read their script word for word. It doesn’t matter!

2. Press the button. This is the hardest step. I am not kidding. The “call” button will stare you in the face, enticing you to back down. It would be so much easier to go read tumblr than to press that button. Sometimes I give into its encouragement and withdraw into my tumblr dash for just another fiiiiive minutes. The button does not want to be pressed, and it makes sure you know it.

2.5. Press the button for real. Eventually the intimidation aura emanating from the telephone will falter for half a second. This is your chance. Press it before it can return to stare you down again.

3. Talk to whoever answers the phone. This is somehow not the hard part. They will cheerily ask how they can help you. You say “hi, I’m <name> from <town>” and then launch into your script. When you finish, they say “okay I’ll pass that along for you” and you say “thank you”. They hang up. You hang up. There is no chance for awkward dead silence, and at no point are you required to figure out what happens next. That's the other person's job.

Congratulations! You have called your senator or representative. You now get to bask in the feeling of temporarily no longer feeling ill from dread and sadness, because you Did Something. Doing Something is, not kidding, the most effective antidote I’ve found to my current state of Dread and Malaise. It’s medicine, it isn’t fun to take, but, frustratingly, it is effective. Go forth and seek out your dose!

[moonsorchid]

Rewatching ep.28 of Love Between Fairy and Devil and having some *cough* strong emotions

Part 1 (because I have a lot to talk about)

(spoilers ahead)

Um, what does that butterfly do to Shangque?

Shangque, baby, no, no, no, no, don't do this to yourself

I can never get tired of Canglan sea visuals

So Jieli has to keep taking an antidote every three days? I had totally forgotten about that. I try to find reasons to justify Ronghao’s actions – apart from him being a total snack – and I am sorry but I fail

Oh, my baby is at the bridge. She is so happy! I was so happy too when I first watched this scene. If only I knew

Look how happy he is too! He is finally smiling naturally. So excited that he will meet Xiao Lanhua at the bridge

But hey, will his brother let him be happy? Noooooooo. Little brat

Btw, if I was Dongfang Qingcang and people were outside my palace messing with my personal life, I wouldn’t have kept my cool

This whole scene of people asking him to kill Xiao Lanhua, is causing me nausea, and I wish I was kidding

But I have to pause and admire DFQC’s costume and the light. He looks majestic and there has never been a scene where he looks more a King than this one – I think

For a moment there I thought he was going to burn them all and I got excited. But he just used like one of the last three remaining blasts of hellfire to half destroy a pillar

Xunfeng, seriously, please get a hobby, do something else with your life other than trying to ruin your brother’s life – yes, I am angry, very angry

DFQC is way calmer than I could ever be. He explains eloquently why Xiao Lanhua is the best and how he has helped him. He has come such a long way

I hate though that the kingdom learns first that he loves her and wants to marry her before she does

Awwwweeee, he wanted to prepare the greatest wedding for her. Now I am sad. We never got to see that wedding. Petition for a season 2 to see the wedding

Question: DFQC realized in Lucheng that Xiao Lanhua is the goddess of Xishan. Why doesn’t he reveal this information now to stop them from b*tching about her being a fairy?

Xiao Lanhua is waiting at the bridge

Awwwwe

Oh now, you are all “Please think twice” and you act like you care for your brother. You exhaust me, Xunfeng

Xiao Lanhua is still waiting and it’s night now

Oh no, not the scene with the spikes. Not my baby. I am not emotionally ready. Nooooooooo

I had not prepared any tissues – I am keeping them for ep. 31 – but I feel like I will need them. Damn, it's so much harder to watch this scene for the second time. I don’t want anyone hurting them, I can’t!

And they keep on hitting the spike over and over and over again. *trying not to cry*

Xiao Lanhua is still waiting. I mean they could have done that with the spikes the next day. Let them have a romantic night for crying out loud

Aaaawe, he arrived. My heart.

This should have been the most romantic scene of the show, not one of the most heartbreaking scenes *pouting*

Their first kiss as a couple *melting*

Love how she pulls away and he still wants to kiss. Not sure if that was in the script *wink wink*

Why did her bracelet do that sparkle thingy? What did that mean? Why now?

Poor DFQC and poor Xiao Lanhua

I hadn’t realized on my first watch that he created thunder. So, Xiao Lanhua knew exactly how he felt

He went through all this excruciating pain and he still thinks of keeping her warm

Awe the marriage proposal. Finally something cheerful. I love that he had planned to have the proposal the day after they would hang the locks at the bridge. Who knew he would be so romantic *heart shaped eyes*

Xiao Lanhua is all like I don’t care about the treasures and stuff, but look, I made you this grass bracelet, will you marry me? She always has a way to subvert his expectations, right?

Oh come on, Xunfeng, let them kiss! I wanted to end this part on a good note, but you just had to show up like a fart during a date

Stopping here and pretending Xunfeng never happened. They just got engaged, grass bracelet and all, they are happy and ready to kiss.

Part 2 coming soonish (depending on my blood pressure I guess)

[darealsaltysam]

hiya!! welcome to my blog!! im sam (she/her) and i like to write :3

wanna talk to me more privately/say hi/upgrade from tumblr mutuals to friends? join my discord server!! make sure to read our rules carefully please~

and since you're stopping by anyway, why not take a little look at my fics? i write on ao3 and have done work in many, many different fandoms! currently, you can find fics from the following;

ace attorney

fnaf

wynncraft

faith

the walking dead

star wars

paladins

marvel movies (mainly xmcu)

marvel comics

dsmp (mainly older, discontinued works)

below the cut i'm going to put more detailed descriptions of all of the fics i'm proudest of, so if any of the above fandoms interest you, take a little peek!!

as of 28/04/25, all my fics are archive-locked because of ai scraping. you will need an account to access them !!

ACE ATTORNEY

spiky twink rebooted

a very silly highschool au chatfic. crack with minimal angst here and there to carry some plot along, but it's very low-stakes. really just something i write for fun to wind down. perfect if ur looking for some good ol crack to turn your brain off to!

waiting for godot

a three-part fic exploring mia and diego's story in ace attorney - before, during, and after his coma. it goes into the background of their relationship and dives into godot's mentality after waking up and finding out about what happened to mia. angst with a somewhat bittersweet ending, canon compliant.

SOME OLDER FICS

Object Class: Fey - completed. an ace attorney scp au, very miego focused with some light background narumitsu. does not represent my current quality or style of writing, but i still enjoy the story a lot and am proud of the fic as a whole!

Time Paradox at The Turnabout - discontinued. a time travel fic of sorts. various different versions of various different characters travel to one time period, hijinks ensue. not that well-written and was never completed, but you might enjoy the concept!

the adventures of spiky twink and the burger queen - discontinued. older version of spiky twink rebooted - read that one instead!

spiky twink extras - discontinued. companion piece to the above. short stories within the universe, essentially!

FNAF

THE SCRIPTVERSE

the scriptverse is a trilogy of scripts + a prose prequel which seeks to retell fnaf lore completely. it sticks to canon in some parts but deviates in others, so it will surprise you even if you know the lore inside out! i made my own changes to the timeline, mixed and matched stuff from the movie, books and games... overall, just a big revamp of the whole thing, all told through movie scripts!

the series is made up of:

MR AFTON, a william-focused first part retelling the missing children incident

MR SCHMIDT [act 1], a michael-focused sequel retelling william's trial shortly after

MR SCHMIDT [act 2], a massive third part to the series which deals with the fallout of the murder and the trial, michael meeting jeremy, ghosts showing up in the pizzeria, and michael finding out he has a sister he didn't know about! crazy stuff!

mr emily & ms schmidt, a prose prequel to the series which focuses on how henry, william and his wife clara met

WYNNCRAFT

warm hands, cold hearts, gentle smiles (also holy shit is that bak'al over there?)

a fic which focuses on exploring the dynamics between the four twain brothers as kids + includes an appearance from wynncraft's favorite bitch boy. also, i made theorick less of a bitch by explaining WHY canon theo is such a bitch!

my legacy in death, your legacy in ice, our legacy in blood

a follow-up of sorts to the above fic, focusing on mael having to help nesaak post-theorick freezing it. the second half of the fic looks at the time mael spent training bob. all around lots of angst, some hurt/comfort in the second part, and a very, very bittersweet ending.

requiem

currently ongoing!!! an x reader fic that has you, the player, take on the role of the villain. you team up with bak'al to take revenge on someone who has wronged you. the fic, and even its description, contains BIG spoilers for wynncraft's late-game quests, most notably a journey further and a hunter's calling. it also explores some dark and uncomfortable themes, please refer to all relevant warnings!! read at your own risk!

OTHER FICS

closer, then you're close enough to lose - completed. a short, slykaar/bob one-shot based in an au i came up with together with @meefys !!

PALADINS

a city of self-fulfilling prophecies [paladins superhero au]

currently ongoing!!! a paladins superhero au that i've been putting together for years, and am now finally writing! most champions will be included as characters, with maeve, ying and lex as the three protagonists and corvus as the lead villain, alongside evie, cassie & kinessa, lian & rei, octavia and many others as major characters!

SOME OLDER FICS

the scholar loved the scion // and the scion loved the scholar, but not in the same way - completed. a short fic exploring a one-sided relationship between lian and rei. hurt, and no comfort!

FAITH

soul of christ (sanctify me)

a short fic which focuses on john and lisa's childhood, with a nice portion of catholic guilt and queer shame on the side (yes i projected onto john. no i am not sorry). very experimental but probably one of my personal fave works ever!!!

MARVEL (movies)

again and again and again and again

a 5+1 exploring charles' post-first class depression era, from hank's perspective. lots of bitterness, lots of anger, lots of sad feels, and a bitter-sweet comfort ending.

and daddy made a soldier out of me

currently ongoing!!!! the first fic of two in a big xmen au i've been putting together for two months now!! the au itself involves a lot of concepts and combines them to form a more complex retelling of first class, the ten year gap, and dofp. the changes to the story include; - cherik as soulmates - erik raising wanda and pietro, then him and charles raising them together - after the beach, wanda leaves with erik, and pietro stays with charles - the twins grow up apart (and erik doesn't get arrested, so he actually gets to raise wanda) - dofp reunites the family forcefully - angst ensues! - also, a few other mcu characters have been added into the storyline as alternate no powers/human versions to themselves to help with plot stuff. this means the inclusion of wandavision!!

OTHER FICS

oh, i will ruin you (it's a habit, i can't help it) - a very short cherik one-shot!! they make out a bit. that's about it!

MARVEL (comics)

Cogito, Ergo Sum

my own take on the house of m storyline! mainly focused on stephen's perspective of things as he slowly unravels wanda's spell. a way more compassionate take on her side of things, with a sprinkle of ironstrange for the soul~

the stories that you keep inside your head

a short one shot focusing on magneto, magda, anya, and years later, polaris !! basically just me giving the forgotten daughters a bit of love because i adore wanda but anya and lorna deserve some attention too !!!

OTHER FICS

below you can find all my other fics - these i'm a little less confident in, because they're either older works or discontinued ones.

tommyinnit - dragonborn! - discontinued. dsmp skyrim au, sbi focused, secondary dream team focus. i really loved this fic and writing it but was forced to discontinue due to... stuff(tm). im still very passionate about the story and happy with what i wrote here, so i recommend it if you're into it.

The Between Dreams and Memories Series - discontinued. a complete retelling of the dsmp storyline. was planned to have 3 parts - same as above, forced to discontinue. contains 2 complete fics (part 1 and a spin off) and one unfinished fic (part 2 of the planned trilogy). one of the biggest fics on my account, a product of several years of work, and a very important work for me, even if its quality doesn't hold up. read if you wish!

a house full of serial killers VS the barbie movie starring margot robbie and ryan gosling - completed. a very very stupid creepypasta chatfic oneshot. i wrote it in one sitting because i was bored. it's nothing special, but it's pretty funny!

dance with the devil - completed. a very short dsmp oneshot, focusing specifically on c!niki and c!schlatt. im still pretty happy with how it turned out!

Deserve Better - completed. a pretty badly written who killed markiplier oneshot. darkstache focused. one of the first fics i ever posted!

laughter [anidala] - completed. a short star wars one-shot i wrote for my girlfriend, focusing on ani and padme!

mutual hatred builds character - completed. a short the walking dead one-shot, focused on maggie and negan. NOT SHIP! i just think they're a fun duo to study like bugs

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 17

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 9.7k

a/n: Hi sweethearts, its here... part 1 of New Orleans. Enjoy and happy Kinktober.

CW: Mentions of past poor relationship with eating

Masterlist

Javier is a smooth operator, you'll give him that. He slips out of your house without disturbing your mothers tranquil slumber. You were no good either, awoken by a chaste kiss, “Call me.” he whispers at 4 in the morning before disappearing out your window. You stir, still convinced you were dreaming. You wake with an attempt at nuzzling into his chest but instead you're met with the ghost of his warmth and the sound of your mother calling your name from the kitchen. 

Eyes squinted you rise from bed and immediately sit back down. Your eyes widen and flash at your bare lower half, the soreness was a bit much. You know Javier would power trip if he saw the way your legs gave out. You wince as you waddle over to grab some pants.

You walk down your stairs into your kitchen with a warm flush on your face. You last saw your mother when she practically said you weren’t welcome in your house any more and now she has a narrowed eyed glare at you when you stumble down the stairs. Two eggs cracked, both for her. Her plate ready with tomato’s right where Javier bent you over and fucked you just 15 hours prior. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. 

“Good morning.” You croak with a yawn, passing her to open the fridge for some water. Her eyes follow you the whole time, trying to read your every move. Judging bit by bit. 

Your eyes drag down to the counter where the house phone goes unhooked and stretched laid flat. She must have just gotten off the phone. You ignore it, you felt like your mother was always on the phone. Always stressed about the boutique. 

“You’re sleeping with Javier.”

She says it matter-of-fact. Despite being prepared for the accusation you feel your stomach flipping. You had scripted this approach and prepared yourself before you dozed off after actually being fucked by Javier Peña (for the second time).

You flare your nostrils and widen your eyes in the best acting you’ve done in years and you deliver it so perfectly, “Xavier?” 

You almost want to giggle, and your mother gasps—a mixture of relief and concern. Her eyes dart to the phone and you follow her gaze. “You’re back together?” She lowers the stove heat and crosses her arms, this is her dream. Marry you off to the soldier, the well off soldier. But her reaction is less expressive, maybe I should ask who she was just calling. 

Later, you think, crush her twisted dreams now, “Oh you were talking about Javi!” You laugh as if her accusation was nothing short of ridiculous. “C’mon mami.. Why would you—oh the car?” You roll your neck, let go of all the knots and cracks.

Your mothers shoulders fall, probably upset that you aren't trying to work things out with your very awful ex. You wish she knew, how horrible he was, she’d still side with him. 

You never described your mother as cruel, not even when you went away to Miami, when you could’ve rewritten your story. Your mother hadn’t beat you, she never called you names and she rarely ever yelled. And she wasn’t always cold. She could be kind to you, friendly, but she could also be mean—too straight up, afraid of white lies. She never loved you much, you knew people you met in college who showed you more love than your mother had. You spent all your life alone in your own home but at a certain point you made family with others. 

Yet you ached for that affection from your biological family.

You hadn't given up completely and you reached an age where you could form a relationship with your brother. Finally, he wasn’t an extension of your mother, he could form his own opinions. You could distract yourself from the cast of sadness when she stares at you too long, when she’s reminded of how you came to be. When she looks at you and sees your father.

But through her frowns and sighs you at least had Frankie. Your brother was yours just as much as he was your mothers. He took care of you, you cared for him, he was mean, he was rude, but he loved you so much he never knew what to do with it. He struggled to protect you from certain things but he tried his best. God, he isnt good at showing it but he cares. He’s trying his best, you don’t think anyone loves you as much, and he doesn’t even love you all that much so it’s a bit sad and embarrassing when you think of it. 

Your mother and Frankie found common ground on most things, it was just a quirk they developed from sharing so much time together. You and your mother have never agreed on anything in your life.

There were few things the two differed. Frankie was a cowboys fan and your mother favored the Texans. She hated his long hair, Frankie promised to never cut it. Frankie would kill Javier if he found what the two of you do, your mother will kill you instead.

 Frankie saw it as a situation of respect, you were his baby sister for crying out loud. He thought your crush was a nuisance at worst, but he had seen how distant you got when he left. He wanted to kill Javier when he found out he kissed you before he went away, shit he wanted to kill you too.

And your mother, she thought your crush was child’s play. She saw Lorraine and Javier, she told you once that that, the romance between two teens, deciding to start their lives together, that was a display of true love. Your mom smiled over her food as she gushed over Javier and his girlfriend. You struggled to keep your food down when you entered the bathroom. 

You don’t know when she made that decision because she seemed to be very indifferent to Javier’s personal life before he left. You guessed it was when she started having dinner with Lorraine's mother twice a week. It was also paired with her not considering you good enough for the son of Don Chucho. Makes more sense now that you know she slept with him too.

In her head it was Javier and Lorraine forever, so even if you admitted right now that you were sleeping with him she would find some way to talk you out of it for the sake of Lorraine. 

You explain the bar lie and she believes you without batting an eye.

Between flickered glances at the phone and at you she presses some questions about his job and if he’ll speak to Lorraine before he leaves.

Mrs. Smith is convinced Lorraine and Javier will get married soon. You try not to audibly sigh as you go on about not being sure. She nods and serves her plate of eggs, you were meaning to ask why she came home early but the bubbling anxiety of mentioning Louisiana took over.

“Javier is driving me to Baton Rouge.” You drop nonchalantly. Pushing your sex and bed head out of your face as you sit on the stool. Her fork clatters and she coughs. 

She’s silent for a moment, her dark brown eyes half lidded, her nostrils flaring slightly. Just like you, you got that from her… that small tick when you’re frustrated. She only urges an e por que?

You keep it cool, you know she’ll be upset regardless. “I’ll be staying with my grandmother for the weekend. Javier has a work trip in New Orleans, I’ll catch a ride.” 

She lets out an overdrawn sigh, “señor dame fuerza,” she mutters her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Always so dramatic, your eyes flash to the clock, shouldn’t she be in church? You’d bring it up but you know if you do she’d throw that fork at you. “¿Sabes qué? No puedo detenerte.”

Your brows raise in shock.You let a silence beat before you reply, “No, you can’t.”

She sighs, “You know I’m just trying to protect you.”

And you don’t know what has gotten into you but— “Too late for that.”

Your mothers aging eyes widen, her mouth parting slightly in shock. For a split second you feel a pang in your chest, the guilt for that second is unbearable. But who had been there when you cried so much you’d choke? Had she felt guilty when she passed your room when you cried for her affection when you were just six. Had she felt guilty then? 

Her gaze falls to the plate and you twist the knife further. “I’ll be apartment hunting there too, for this coming winter.” It comes to you on the spot, you never had the intention to do so but after her “move out” suggestion the idea came naturally. Maybe it was a mixture of hope, hoping the family in Baton Rouge would open their arms to you and never make you feel unwelcome. 

Her brows raise a bit and with her smallest stutter she whispers, “Bien.”

“Good.” You snap, crossing your arms.

Her eyes widened again, appalled at your audacity. “Well–I’m going to work. I called your brother about you and Javier so you might want to clear the air.”

Your mother dramatically exits like she had two days ago when she dropped the first bomb of the week. An unbearable panic explodes in your chest, you physically recoil the second she leaves. Hand over your chest, you try to bite back tears. 

No–not yet. No, not this time. 

Avoidant, often you call yourself that. You avoided the things that made you feel anything other than a sense of security.  You’d have 7 blow up arguments with your mother a year, in reality you should have an argument a day but you often avoided that too. You avoided all things Javier when he was gone, avoided breaking up with Xavier until the very last minute.

It was just in your nature, so after a few shed tears and a coughing up the milk you chugged from your wrecked nerves, you avoided the thought of being confronted by your older brother. You avoided the idea of having to lie to his face and then somehow convince him that despite your mothers claims you were indeed not fucking his best friend but you are also heading on a completely platonic mini vacation together in just a few days. 

The trait was probably your fathers. Your mother never avoided a confrontation, she’d follow you up the stairs before you physically create a barrier between you two. Frankie had been the same way, stern and a bit mean but always in search to solve the problem the second it started. The second he found out you had kissed Javier from some girl who stopped by the hair salon he drove straight to the house to talk to you about it. That was them and like most things ‘mom and son’ you just couldn't be on that same level.

With that when your mom left you alone after that bomb you had locked yourself into your room and planned your lessons for the week, completely (sort of) shutting out all thoughts of this morning. 

Until 2 pm when you had gotten hungry after only drinking milk that you spat up like an infant. Your brain splitting in two when you’re met with the back of your big brother's head. Somehow feeling some more of that bile lingering and coming back up. 

“Frankie…” You whispered turning the corner and into the kitchen where he sat at the island stool. His hair still long and curly, Genie had a love-hate thing with it, on one hand he had beautiful healthy curls and on the other he looked a bit shaggy with it. It was a bit 1975 of him, the denim and mustache. Him and Javier being best friends just made sense, their style never evolved. 

You see his face now, in his hands is a book and his eyes aren't as angry as you feared. That scared you the most, so you began, “Gordo–” His eyes flashed to yours again, maybe calling him by your childhood nickname was a bit much. “Mami is mistaken, you have to believe me– me and Javi never-we haven’t-god, we’re not even.”

But Frankie cuts, “Did you take a psychology course at Miami.” 

Um…

Your brows pull tightly, afraid of where this is going. Is he just going to ignore the whole– “Yes-yeah I did, childhood and adolescent development and psychology.”

“Did you ever read Julian Ridden, anything from him?” Frankie taps his book and places it on the counter ignorant of him, his hand splayed on the cover and then slowly retreated. Words upside down, cover a pale palm out open. 

You shake your head, “No– it was more like Piaget and Freud, what does this have to do with anything? I want to talk to you Frankie!”

Well so much for being avoidant. Now that he’s here you want none of whatever he’s trying to do now, no mind games, just let me lie to you dammit. 

“Ridden came up with the Being and Knowing theory about parents who grew up with out a father of their own. He says that men who never had a father figure in their life often overcompensate in the lives of their children, they know what's it like to not have a father so they become what they wished for.”

Your brows soften for a moment, the tightness in your chest shifting from the possibility of being caught to concern for your brother. You take a step closer, pulling the book towards you and flipping it. “Frankie…are you alright, I know–well I don't but I figure the idea of being a father feels scary.” 

“I’m sorry for not being there for you when you were little.” His head drops and you hurry to his side, slinging your arm over his shoulders. He shook his head in disagreement. It’s okay, you murmur into his shoulder. “It isn't okay, upu had no one, not even mami. I see it now. And I know it wasn't my responsibility to play the role of your father but I could’ve been a better example of what a man should be.”

Your heart splits in two and suddenly every worry you built until now washes away, a few tears fall at the sound of something so unfortunately true. You just hated that he realized how it’s been for you,  that now he’s hurt too, you only wished that this would only pain you. “It’s okay you did your best, I’m better now.” 

Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose and shrugs you off, startled you wipe your own tears afraid of what outburst is coming from this, “You looked for that in Javi–I know me, your dad and even fucking Xavier didn't treat you well, Javier was there for you and I feel like I prosecuted you for that–it's fucked up.”

There it is, taking the back of your palm you wipe your brow and land your hands on your hips. “What…”

“Listen, I was too hard on you about Javier. I know that now, I get it. He left and I blamed you internally, and sure some of it was your fault but I don’t know why I lacked sympathy for you all I thought about was myself.” 

You cross your arms, now he’s entering waters unknown. When Javi left your brother distanced, you had taken the educated guess that it was because he was starting his life with his girlfriend not much else. Blame me? What was my fault? For what? You bite the inside of your lip, staring down the profile of your brother's face. “What do you mean?”

His brows screw, still his gaze fixed on nothing ahead of him. “You made shit awkward, Javier never called and when he did all he wanted to talk about was you.”

Your face flushes, “I’m sorry what– Javier doing Javier shit has nothing to do with me. He’s a famously known flaker, he leaves.. Often and when he does he like chooses to not exist in our lives. That's not my fault!”

Frankie closes his eyes and exhales a frustrated one. “Obviously some shit happened before he left which I know now was him fucking kissing you, god you should’ve never let that happen Andrea.”

You mirror his angry exhale and your tears have since dried. “Oh give me a break, I was fucking sixteen and in love with him, god forbid we share a kiss. Jesus christ, it wasn't that serious, he left and stopped calling. He's here now!”

Frankie’s head snaps to you in disbelief, “Wasn't that serious? He left and you didn't fucking eat, you were never home and when you started to be healthy again you started dating that–that prick, that called you fat on your birthday dinner. You leave for Miami and you never call, you come home and you work out until you’re sick and now Javier’s home and all of a sudden you're easy going and healthy and fine. That is a big deal!” 

You stood frozen in front of him feeling like an open wound. Everything you hid, all the habits you tried to keep under wraps. How you skipped the meals your mother made, when you cried embarrassed when Genie found you on the side of the road after nearly fainting from a run. You had blocked it out, avoidant, Xavier had asked if you really wanted dessert on your eighteenth birthday, in front of your brother. He sat and watched. You were at a loss of words for once, you couldn't muster up anything to say. All things were true, he was right but you couldn’t face the connection. 

“I…” You swallow the lump in your throat, “Yes, Frankie, yes I struggled. But it is what it is, it’s in the past!” You just accepted that idea 4 days ago but you couldn't tell him that, no. 

He stands abruptly, the chair scraping tile, “I can sympathize with you now, we’re grown up but you complicated shit and I lost my best friend! You need to take responsibility.”

“I didn't do anything wrong!”

He scoffs, “Oh please! I wasn't the best brother to you but you knew Javier would do anything for you, you knew he was with Lorraine and you still had to have him! You never saw it this way, how could you? All you think about is yourself, but he was my friend first! He was my only fucking friend Andrea and-” His finger is pointed in your face. You're so angry you could slap him but that wouldn't end well, you and your brother were never above rough-housing. The optics arent the same now that the two of you are adults. “And imagine how I feel… after all this time, all this distance to get a call from mami saying regardless of it being my only boundary you're still seeing him? Please tell me I’m mistaken, nena. I’ll fucking kill him you have to understand me–he’s my family but you’re my little sister and I’m not letting him hurt you again, I cant watch it again. ” His finger falls. 

Your skin feels a size too tight at that, the nickname he gave you when he first held you in his own chubby toddler arms. The burn of little sister, his stare blown and frantic you couldn't even tell exactly what he was mad about but it seemed to all boil over. Those six years of resentment you never knew he held.  Standing in the kitchen where you had the man he’s begging you to be away from, below the bathroom where he asked you to go away with him and now with wild embers in the deep brown irises of your big brother, he pleads. 

He is pleading, please don’t lie to me any longer, please don’t, not Javier, anyone else.

And you feel it, the guilt, the sick twisting storm throughout your body. You feel everything at once, you feel the paternal look in Frankie's eyes, his newfound fatherhood giving him perspective on how it must have been for you. You feel the resentment in how you acted after Javi left, how you never considered how his best friend leaving burned him too. 

But so selfishly you’re brought back to the feeling of being in his arms. You hate that your brain is proving Frankie's point. Javier makes you feel stable, safe and maybe it’s unhealthy but it’s the greatest comfort you’ve ever felt.

You hadn’t known warmth until then. 

 Come november he’ll be gone and if you're careful no one gets hurt, he leaves and your secret is kept. Frankie is your family, he has hurt you 4 times over, he passed your room when you wept and rubbed in your face the relationship he had with your mother. You loved him to death but your feelings for Javier belong to you. You’re so tired of being told how to behave.

You lie.

“I am not sleeping with Javier.” Frankie’s tense shoulders drop, and you drag on the falsehood. “Mom got the wrong idea but I told her he had dropped his car off here so he could head to the bar and I’m so sorry for fucking shit up but its…me and him are different now. He’s my…” Your eyes drop, not having the heart to look at him as you fabricate all he knows. “He’s my best friend too, he knows about my grandma, he’s taking me to see her so we’ve been spending time together.” Half true, you hadn't even brought up your grandmother to Javier but you hoped to soon. You flick your gaze upward and your brother is stone face,  internalizing all that you laid out, all the deception, you feel the trust between you two chipping piece by piece. 

Your grandma, he whispers to himself and instantly frowns. He pulls you close to him tightly. You stay in the embrace for long, beginning to cry in shame. Feeling sick to lie to him this way, sob while he believes it’s because of your paternal trauma. 

He’ll never forgive me. 

Your brother leaves and it takes a few hours of complete isolation for you to feel anything at all. Sitting with your legs crossed in your bedroom, reliving all the good and bad in your story. Trying to pin-point all the wrong Frankie has done to justify lying to him the way you did. It’s radio silence in your room as you numbly pack, each corner tucked and rolled is a reminder of all the relationships you’re ruining. You think of your mother as you pack, you think of every time you packed a bag or lack thereof. 

There were few things your mother did for you. By fourteen you were made to make your own dinner, pay for your own hair cuts, and keep up with your dentist appointments. But the one thing you could always rely on with your mother was her packing skills. She’d watch you struggle and let out an exasperated sigh before shoving you out the way and taking matters in her own hands. 

Now at 9 pm you feel your mothers presence at the doorway while you struggle. It’s slight, the breeze surrounding her body, you feel the narrowed eyes peeled to the back of your head, the room pulsing with anticipation. 

Will you be my mother again?

The weak part of you pleads. 

But she closes the door for you without another word. And it's so silly but you begin to tear up, it's done once and for all.

You try your best to sleep that night but you find it impossible. You arrive at your class 10 minutes late with the students shaking their heads when they observe the cup of coffee in your hand. Class goes as good as it could be considering it was antsy eighth graders who had failed their algebra final. Two more weeks of summer school, one more month until you make a decision on your classroom. It makes you giggle a bit being called Ms. Diaz. 

Javier doesn't call you Monday night but you know it's for the better. You know once you hear his voice you’ll miss him and you shouldn't do any more secret rendezvous until your family quits the speculation. You’ll have him all weekend, you'll have him in a few days. 

On Tuesday you come home from work to a stranger taking care of your baby sister. Slowly your mother cuts off your purpose in her home. Hiring a nanny named Florencia, you still pick up Sol and give the nanny a break. Rolling your R’s in her face and watching as she attempts to mock you, she gets fed up. She smiles and pulls on your hair.

You’ll miss her the most you think, sometimes she makes you believe maybe you’ll be a good mother. 

Wednesday ebbs and flows, you see Javier at the market. He stops in his tracks at the end of the aisle, strangely reminiscent of when he saw you for the first time after his year away. You in your bikini top and him in his dark jacket in 7/11. This time Javier looks around for on lookers and you do the same before he stalks you down the aisle, pushing your cart away before grabbing at your cheeks for a quick kiss that has your chest heating. 

He steps away from you, creating distance in case a customer comes by. No one would know how had just kissed her.

You blush profusely and before you could tease him a worker passes you with a cart and begins stocking right next to the two of you. 

“My dad is waiting in the truck.” Javier blurts, you take this moment to appreciate his attire. You want to ask if he dresses up this nice every time he goes for errands, you on the other hand… how funny would that kiss look to onlookers? A fully suited Javier pressing his lips to you in an oversized flannel and denim shorts. 

You nod, “Okay…” 

Javier looks over at the nosy employee, the two of you knew who the worker was, he was in Genie’s graduating class. Javier rolls his tongue in his cheek annoyed with their interaction being startled and it would be far too obvious to take the conversation elsewhere. Tilting his head to the ceiling and that familiar Peña sass you're so used to. He narrows his eyes at the worker again and shakes his head. Your cheeks hurt from the active attempt to not laugh. 

“I’ll see you around Andrea, you look great.” He teases, his hand squeezing our shoulder. The worker stops his stocking at that and Javier doesn't give you the opportunity to pinch him because he's walking away. 

Thursday you attempt to finish packing, stomach flipping at the thought of being on the road with Javier at 5 am the next day. Ten hours on the road and 3 nights alone. You stuff your birth control in between your towel and going out dress. 

Right before bed, Javier calls your home phone. You aren't given the time to say hello. 

“Are you okay?” He urges beyond the line. Your brows pull tight, your eyes dart to your packed back on the floor and to your clock, 10 pm. 

“Yeah…are you okay?” You laugh and to your surprise he doesn't laugh back.

“Frankie came to my house today.”

Your heart skips a beat and you sit up in bed. Fuck. “O-okay what did he say?”

“I dont know… I just, I’m so sorry. I apologized to him for writing him off but you never told me about you eating or your grandmother I’m so-”

Your ears run hot, “Oh god he told you! I’m going to fucking kill him, jesus christ Frankie” 

“Andrea let me see you, I can't wait until the morning. I need you to know.”

“Javi… please. My struggle was my business and it wasn't you or whatever, I was going through a lot more than you leaving at that time. I-” Your voice dies for a moment but you continue before Javier could cut you off. “I would rather talk about this tomorrow, please Javi.”

He’s silent for a moment, a beat, in that silence your brain clicks, Oh my god I haven't even told him about my grandmother. 

“My grandmother”

“Your grandma” You both say in sync but you allow him to continue. “Your fathers mother contacted you, why didn't you tell me?” He says softly. 

It wasn't intentional, at least you don't think it was. You're not sure when was the appropriate time to bring it up without it seeming like you accepted this weekend trip for a free ride. “She wants to meet me, she lives in Baton Rouge. I just didn't want to feel like I was just using you for a ride.” You sigh, afraid to admit. The thoughts of maybe being accepted by your father or a grandmother or an aunt, anyone. Your breath shudders.  “I know… I know it's stupid but I’m so desperate for a family Javi.”  You whisper. 

He lapses into another silence. In those seconds you grew embarrassed with yourself, with your desperation. You felt a pang of ungratefulness, you saying this to someone who watched his mother walk out. You think of the people who have no one. You think of your own mother whose parents passed while she was a teen. Why did I say that? 

“We’ll go see her on our way back home.”

Your brows pull together “What?” You frown. 

“You should never feel like you're using me, I’ll take you Sunday to meet your grandmother.” You're silent again in a space between disbelief and expectation until he pushes you over the edge. “And… I am your family, you will always have me. But I think you know that.”

Your breath dies again, your chin quivering out of control. 

I love you. How desperately you want to tell him, Javi, I love you so much. 

Your mother is awake when you load your bags into Javier’s truck. You hear her rattling in the bathroom when you tie your shoes, you know she’ll watch from the window in her robe when you buckle in so when Javier grabs your bags you distance yourself, avoiding whatever affection he itches to show you.

You exhale when he settles in. He looks awfully handsome today, already dressed in conference attire. A lovely fitted mustard button down and black pants, his eyes flitting down to the glittering watch on his left wrist. And he tries to lean in again and you turn your head towards the window, and he gets the message. Still mutters curses regardless and pulls out of your street. 

It takes 30 seconds to be on an empty dirt road and hes dangerously leaning to bite on your exposed shoulder, “Missed you querida, taste so sweet.” He grits and your redden straight down to your chest before letting out a ticklish giggle. You wiggle your hand around his head and tug his head off of you by the root of his hair. He looks at you with wet parted desperate lips and good god, you want him to pull over but–

“Eyes on the road agente.” 

His eyes narrow and he shakes away his urge and continues down the road. You roll your neck, what an awful night of sleep you've had. You kick off your sandals and bring your knees to your chest. Leaning your cheek on your knee and you admire the man next to you. Sunrise splitting the pretty green trees, creating a lovely canary colored cast on the strong of his nose and eyes. His eyes, your stomach jumps, what lovely lashes on a man. You're envious. 

It's silent until you're out of town and heading in the direction of George West, his eyes side glancing at you and double takes. His right palm covers your knee and pats, “Don't sit like that, it's dangerous.” Your lip quirks and you comply, remembering when he had said the same thing on your way to Liandra’s quince six years ago. He smirks at how quickly you obey, his calloused hand inching slowly up your leg and under your dress. 

Your lip is between your teeth instantly and you part your legs. Hands at the end hem of your pearl colored dress.

Eyes still on the road he drags his fingers against your thin panties, your breath hitches as your buck your hips to give him more space, instead he slips his fingers in the space below, cupping you. The bumpy road jerks your core against his palm, you gasp and he chuckles.

“Javi…” You rub yourself on his palm, your free hand gripping his wrist. Your eyes fluttering closed, feeling the ball of his palm create the most necessary friction on your clit. Your panties ruined already, he must love the feel of the wetness seeping through. 

His eyes stay on the road the whole time, “Hurry up, two more minutes and we hit a town.” He keeps his cool while you unravel next to him, inching towards an orgasm at dawn. And you let go of his wrist and run your hand up over your dress, needing as much touch as possible. You grip at your breast and hump his palm faster. This, this is quite the sight because despite your shut eyes you can feel Javier’s distracted gaze. “Christ, yeah baby let me see you.” Shamelessly you pull the top of your dress down, exposing your pretty peaked nipple and thats it. 

Javier is moving his hand from under you and swerving the car off road. Thankfully these backroads won't see anyone but long haul truckers at this time because you're still so disoriented from the neared climax you don't think to fix yourself up but from the way Javier puts the car in park you know you wont need to fix anything. You're unbuckling and slipping your panties off instantaneously and he follows.

Unbuckling, unzipping and pulling out his erection. And to hell with thinking twice because the sight of him aching and twitching against his shirt has you scrambling on top of him. 

His hands steading you as your hand slips between you, grabbing ahold of him with his tip prodding your entrance. You sink down, you moan softly but Javi is letting out a throaty rasp. Still you aren't used to the stretch of him especially from this angle. Your dress pools around the two of you, blocking any view of your bodies connecting. 

No time to get used to this position, immediately he's driving his hips into you and you're bouncing, riding Javier. His hands gripping your ass, the windows fogging as the car fills with no sounds but grunts, whimpers and slaps. His mouth open and sucking at any inch of skin, finally his mouth suctioning your breast. Your hands tugs at his hair as you make a mess on his lap, the zipper of his pants will leave a mark you just know it. And you feel it, the pit, the dizziness, he feels you clench around him.

“C’mon Andrea, make a mess on me.” He grits, and you comply once again squeezing him tightly, leaking onto his lap. You're crying in pure pleasure and at your final call of his name he’s spilling into you, warm and just as messy. 

He holds you tighter as the two of you float, still blurry eyed and dazed. You catch your breath together. 

Like always you're so limp and fucked out that he takes it upon himself to disconnect the two of you and adjusts your dress. Planting sweet kisses in your hair, feeling empty and gaping you find it hard to move but he does it for you once again, guiding you back to your seat, buckling you in.

And like that you sleep for the next 3 hours of the drive

“Six more hours querida… We’re in Inez… according to the map.” 

You wake to his right hand tangled in your hair, supporting your neck. You take a few seconds to realize that you're curled up in the passenger's seat of Javier’s truck. Squeezing your eyes tightly adjusting to the full blown daylight, eyes darting to the time, 8:40 am. 

“Oh my god, do you want to switch?” You panic, you hadn't even offered splitting the labor. The ride was nine and a half hours at the very least and even harder navigating with a map. You had never driven for longer than two hours but it seems Javier is used to this sort of commute. 

His face screws in disapproval and his fingers scratch at your head. “Todo bien, you can take the last hour. We should arrive by 2, the social lunch is at 3 but we can skip that.” 

You nod, rubbing your eyes letting out an annoyed noise when his hand slides away from its place in your hair. Back to both hands on the wheel, your eyes flash down to the skirt of your dress and you feel clean? Your eyes dart to Javier’s lap and he's changed into a brown formal pant. “Did you–?”

His eyes follow yours and land back on the rolling roads, he nods. “Yeah, I cleaned you up when you were asleep and I changed… not sure how I would explain to Agent Messina what the wet spot on my pants was.”

Your brows shoot high and you laugh, “Fair point…” A fleeting feeling of uncertainty brushes you at the reference to another agent. You were alright in social settings but you're a school teacher for crying out loud, you have no idea what sort of people you’re about to encounter. In your head you see yourself walking into a dining hall full of suited men whispering and beating around the bush when asked questions of their career. You picture Javier in that setting, how you've rarely ever seen that ultra serious demeanor and disinterested aura. Rarely, but you have seen it, you remember just how cold he can be when you think of him shouldering Xavier out of his way nearly a month ago. You think of how stern he can be with you at times. Why does the thought of him working such a dangerous job scare and turn you on at the same time. 

“So…” You drag in between the silence, “What should I expect this weekend.”

“Well, today there's the DEA social lunch thing, they're holding it so the bell hops could take our things up.”

You wiggle your brows, “Fancy…”

“Yeah, well after that we can settle in but from 7 to 9 I have a mandatory conference with my new co-workers, Colombia co workers.” He clarifies and you nod. “Then we have the night to ourselves. The guys will probably want to get drinks but we do whatever you want.”

Your chest heats, you almost want to roll your eyes at him. “Whatever… Okay and Saturday?”

“I have my long conference, 10:30 am until 2:30 pm.” 

You let out a low whistle, “Four hours, jeez. Is it top secret?” 

He rolls his eyes, “Probably. Don't take it personally, you knowing I’m leaving because of Pablo Escobar is enough.”

“Yeah, yeah… and after that?”

“Right, it’ll be time just for us. French quarters maybe?”

You beam, “Yeah maybe. Are any of your office friends going away to Colombia?” The question leaves you before you can form a purpose for it. Sure you'd love to meet the friends he might've made in Houston but a small part of you worries some people there will be aware of the existence of Lorraine and they will be aware of you, not being her. Afraid of a possible awkward conversation, oh god who are you to Javi? How will he introduce you–

“I think two guys from my section should be coming along. Felipe, he’s likable and polite. Dominican guy, but there's also Julian… not a fan.” His hand goes for the cup holder, fishing out a cigarette and you narrow your eyes at him. “Will you light me?” He asks.

Still with a scalding glare you grab his light and wait for him to slip the stick between his lips. “I’m just being helpful but I don't approve.” You strike the flame with your thumb and light him up. He mumbles a thank you and continues. 

“Julian is in his mid thirties, kind of upset about my age and all that. He also got into it with Lorraine at a Christmas party a few years back.”

“Oh… what happened?”

Confirmed, you're going to die. His co-workers have met his long term girlfriend and now he's bringing you… his… oh god, are they going to think you’re in some ménage à trois? You hear stories from your college friends about white collared men and their wandering hands. 

Javier taps his cigarette on the window, his face wondering how to start this story. But he starts with all of it, “When I got moved to train and work with the DEA me and Lorraine were in a trying to make it work phase.” Drag, “You know she’s very outgoing but she can get real defensive when she has a drink in her system. Anyway we had argued the night before so tensions were high when I decided to bring her to our christmas party.”

Your brain flashes briefly an image of Lorraine holding your arms telling you you’re beautiful on New Year’s eve, guilt and shame bolt through you, you tune out a small portion of his story thinking of Lorraine and her kindness towards you. 

“…Julian decided to comment on Lorraine’s outfit choice. I mean you know how she was, very conservative being pastors daughter but when she wanted to dress up she… you remember what she wore to New Years?"

Your eyes widen, “How can I forget!” Custom made orange jumpsuit, you could’ve dropped dead from jealousy that night. 

“Well he made a comment about me letting her leave the house in her outfit.”

You scoff, “Well whatever he had coming he deserved it.” You murmur, you hated that. You know that it was typical for women to comply with what their partners want them to wear but not for your generation. That was the time of your parents, every girl now wants to dress like Madonna and it’s great. 

Javier laughs, “Yeah he did… Lorraine straight up called him… and I quote, 'a lonely short man with the complex of a man who’s 6 foot'. And slapped his drink from his hand, got all over his suit.”

You burst out into a fit of laughter, imagining the face on this stranger. The two of you laugh together at the image, but once the laughs died you fell into that familiar space of trepidation. You bask in the light silence while your brain ticks off the uncomfortable feeling of missing her as a friend. The strange sting that maybe she’ll never want to speak to you again.

“Hey…” Javi calls, ashing his cigarette in the cup holder. “¿Todo chido?”

You frown, “I don’t know… it’s stupid.” Your gaze averts out the window, passing a mall and some rest stop. His hand reaches out to your knee giving it a squeeze of encouragement. Whatever, “I kind of feel guilty? I know you two aren’t together but there’s a part of me that still wants her in my life. I liked being her friend that year.” You find it embarrassing to admit but most things are out in the open now with you and Javi, you have no time to keep these little feelings to yourselves, it’s what tore you apart for so long. 

Javier’s grip loosens and your frown deepens as he retrieves it entirely. You look to him this time and his eye twitches slightly, you know it does that when he’s keeping something hidden. No time for that. “What Javi.” You say sternly.

His head darts to you and back to the road, “Nothing…”

“Javi.” 

“Alright. With Lorraine… don’t feel guilty. She had your mind made up about you once she started college. I think her friends opened up to what was right in front of her.”

You lips twitch in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Javier sighs, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight now. “Well… I suppose they made her realize that you were a part of our relationship failing.”

“Me?” You had no part in that, he told you they had problems before the two of you kissed, before. The whole time it was all you, your crushing and whatever. You now know Javi had feelings for you then but you thought it was a back burner issue, from the stories you’ve heard it seemed like Lorraine and him were just too hot headed to be together. 

“Well me more-so but it’s easier to fester dislike for someone you don’t have to face every night, so ever since then she’s kinda built a dislike for you.”

Oh. 

Your heart is stuck somewhere again, this time between relieved and sad. Sad that after all these years of being jealous you still craved being her friend, yet it didn’t go both ways you suppose. And relieved that she already disliked you instead of possibly dropping the, hi I know we were close while you dated Javier but now I’m fucking him! 

“Never mind then…” You drag, “Well I’m sure giving her a reason to hate me.”

Javier shrugs, “Everyone hates us.” 

You giggle although the thought is absolutely terrifying to you, “Yeah… that’s true.” 

“We should talk about Frankie.” Javi pitches after your two hours of talking about everything and nothing. You groan and pull his hand to your mouth. Shaking your head you mumble into his palm. 

“Can’t talk sorry.” He scoffs at your attempt and removes his hand, whatever… you murmur. “Okay… okay. You first, mine is too much.” And it was, you’d have to detail the side of your mother he may not know, tell him about how it used to be between you and Frankie and you’d have to tell him about the accusation from your mother. 

Javi can tell it's eating you alive because he intertwined his fingers with yours the second the crease between your brows deepened. “He showed up to the house, I was scared shitless when he started the conversation with your name. The conversation… it didn't go the way I was expecting.” His voice is low for that last part, you comfort him this time, placing your free on top of the hold you two had. “I guess I hadn't realized how much of a bad friend I turned into once I left. I think I lost my way when I was in Houston, I pushed everyone to the side and I think the only person left without an apology was your brother.”

You recall the face your brother made the night Lorraine broke the Houston news. Despite being wrapped in your own panic your first instinct was to look at Frankie. Frankie stared off into the distance with the same face of worry he had when mama would yell at them, disassociating for a moment before Genie beams with excitement. He imitated a smile when squeezing Javier's shoulders in congratulations. When you really think about it, Javier had been your brother's only friend. 

“He loves you a lot, you're his family. But we are all selfish, he deserved an apology but you cant torture yourself over being oblivious.”

And you swear you see Javier’s eyes welling, you want to lean over the console and comfort him but you leave him to it. You leave him to process, letting go of his hand. He reaches for another cigarette and you light it. 

With the wrist of his smoking hand he rubs his eyes, “Okay… your turn.” He chuckles through a rasp of emotion.

You tell him all, about your father and how your mother only ever loved him and how your existence has always been a reminder of the heartache she felt that day. Javier holds onto your hand again when you tell him that Frankie was cruel to you until middle school, that he’d never comforted you, that Frankie softened up to you when Javi got in the picture. Javi couldn't believe that, it was true, no one had ever shown you kindness and Frankie attempted to follow suit. Instead it manifested in overprotection and control. 

It ended with your grandmother, with your mother cutting you off and your crushing ache for– “I’ve never truly felt loved by my family, it always felt conditional. I guess I’m reaching out to my fathers side in hopes they’ll welcome me there.” 

Javier stops at a red light and looks over to you. His mouth twitching in hesitation, “Regardless of what happens you will always have a family, no matter where we stand or if we hate each other in the next few months, you will never need to look for a family as long as I’m around.”

Valet, fancy.

You itch to comment when the bell hop takes your bags. You explore the lobby a bit while Javier is a few feet away from you getting directions to the lunch they were both craving so badly. You hoped you were properly dressed, it was a favorite dress of yours, it’s pearl color and your sandals had a wedge. 

The lobby was lavish, mosaic tiles, gilded pillars and beautiful bouquets of flowers at every turn. And it couldn’t get any better. You look up and are met with beautiful ceiling paintings and glistening chandeliers. Jesus.

“Andrea!” Javi calls from across the room and you make your way toward him. The man he spoke to was moving away to handle business elsewhere. “Everyone’s down this hall, apparently it’s more so a cocktail hour.” You groan, hungry as could be. He takes hold of your hand, in a public space, you stomach grumbles and you can’t tell if it’s from lack of food or the idea of being like this with him. He laughs, bringing a hand to squeeze your stomach. “It’s alright, I’ll call up room service later we’re just going to show face.”

Show face indeed, the room is packed. And you're a bit underdressed, dressed for lunch while everyone in the room were suited and in cocktail dresses. Your brows raising at the sight of men with guns in their holsters. Sure you're from Texas but open carry wasn't as common near you. Then again you're walking into a room of DEA agents. Javi squeezes your hand, “My co-workers are over there.”

Through the room Javier is given nods and smiles. You are too, men and women alike smiling and nodding at you too. Ahead of you was a tall woman in her 40s with shoulder length black hair, the only woman in the room with a suit. Messina, you assume, next to him is a tall dark skinned man with short buzzed hair in a gray suit. Upon arrival Javier’s face splits into a smile and he lets your hand go to hug his coworker. Felipe, you assume. 

You're left smiling and saying hello to Messina. “You look good, Vaquero.” He squeezes Javier’s waist as they part. “Missing your cowboy hat.” He jutts his chin towards Javier’s cowboy boots. Javier shook his head and rolled his eyes. 

“Whatever Yank.” Northerner, funny. For a moment you feel out of place, standing at Javier’s side without a name or acknowledgement until Felipe extends a hand out to you. 

“Pardon me, I’m from New York but I do have manners. What's your name sweetheart,”

Your brows raise at the sudden attention, you take his hand and he shakes it. Instinctually Javier steps closer to you. “Andrea, nice to meet you.”

“Beautiful name.” He smiles and looks back to Javier with raised brows. Javier squinted in distaste and snaked his around your waist to pull you into him. You smile down at your feet with a blush from both the compliment and also the way Javier’s hand felt so large splayed on your waist. “So…” He wiggles his brows and Javier scoffs at his co-workers nosiness. 

Javier looks at you briefly, “So…” He mocks, “This is my girlfriend Andrea.”

Oh. 

It's disarming the label coming from his lips, you feel a heat rise from your belly straight to your ears and cheeks. A small part of you is kicking yourself for reacting to such a label but its beautiful to the ears.

So you were his girlfriend, huh. 

“Well she’s beautiful, right Messina?”

Messina smiles, “Indeed, you can call me Claudia.” She reaches out and you take her hand, cold and soft, reminding you of the hands of your mother. 

“Can I call you Claudia?” Felipe beams.

“No.” She cuts and Javier stifles a laugh. You lean into Javier giggling at the interaction.

“Where’s your girlfriend Felipe, the receptionist?” Javi teases but Felipe seems to be equally as amused. 

Felipe smiles, “Fiancé, she's around somewhere.”

You look up at Javier who looks absolutely stunned at the announcement, “No mames…” He drags and Felipe shakes his head. He was definitely not kidding, “Congrats, wow.” Javi blinks, his eyes scanning the room. 

“This is perfect, you two could get to know each other during our meeting.” Felipe waves his finger around the air. Quickly his smile fades, “Good god… Julian coming your way. Have fun, lets go Messina, we've had enough of him today.” 

And like that the two of them sip their cocktails and leave you and Javi stranded. “Fucking assholes.” Javi chuckles before Julian comes into view and Lorraine was right. He was a short man, shorter than you. His suit hung loose on his body but he was awfully handsome and muscular. Although it looked a bit silly with his stature, you smile at him.

“Javier Peña, who’s this?” He says in a far grosser and irritating way, no way near the way Felipe asked. He stood with a glass in his hand. Javier’s face falls into that face he rarely shows you, his stone cold agent face. 

You speak before he can for you, “I’m Andrea, his girlfriend.” You offer your hand and he laughs condescendingly as he shakes it. Clammy. 

“Girlfriend?” He looks at Javier, “This one has a far better dress, a bit underdressed but at the very least not indecent.” He elbows Javier’s side, referring to Lorraine, thinking you aren't aware of whatever unfunny joke he’s attempting to make. Javier’s nostrils flare and before he says anything he’ll regret, you cut in. 

“Well you might need to head to the tailor for the pants. And the jacket lacks… a stain of booze.” You tease right back. His face drops entirely. Javier’s head snaps towards you and his mouth splits into a smile. 

He grabs your arm, “Alright, she’s had a few too many, we're going to our room.” He begins to drag you away and you giggle.

“I haven't had a drop!” You exclaim and he laughs, leaving Julian in the dust as he walks you through the room. 

“You're crazy.” He shakes his head concealing his chuckle as you two exit the room. The air conditioning hits you hard once you leave the bustling room. In an instant he’s hauled you over his shoulder in the hotel hall, “Alright let's go have sex.” 

You shriek from being off ground as he runs in the hall towards the elevator with you dangling over his shoulder. 

Back in Laredo Lorraine calls Genie apologizing about not being able to attend her bachelorette party. Genie and Lorraine had stayed in contact all 6 years, close enough that Genie had Lorraine’s name down as a possible bridesmaid. 

“It really is fine, i’ll be a dud anyway I can’t drink.” Genie jokes, she told Lorraine that she’s trying to get pregnant but not that she’s actually carrying. She excuses her new dry lifestyle on not wanting to gain weight before the wedding. In reality all she’s been doing is gaining weight. 

“Yeah, yeah. Alright, how’s the wedding planning going? Almost a week, are you ready?” She beams, sitting on the counter top of the apartment her and Javi shared. She had half her things packed to come home for the wedding. 

Genie chuckles, “Girl, that’s none of my business. That’s all Andrea and Ms. Diaz.” 

Lorraine bites the inside of her cheek at the sound of your name. She wonders if you and Javier have seen each other since he went home or if you still held that fiery personality and kept distance. 

“Andrea… How’s she doing?” Lorraine closes her eyes, a bit fearful of how it sounded. 

“Oh Andrea? She’s good, teaching school and all that. She’s on a little weekend trip with Javier though. She deserves a break.”

Lorraine feels her cheeks heat in jealousy. 

“Are they—? You know, together?”

She doesn’t care now, she feels it’s her right to know. Genie is silent for a moment and each second that passes Lorraine is angrier.

“No, they aren’t. You know they’ve always been close.”

“Well she’s always had a crush on him though, knowing Javier they’re probably fucking somewhere… that fucking man…”

“Alright, no need to speculate.” Genie interrupts. “It’s their business, but I’m highly doubtful.” 

Lorraine scoffs and looks down at her growing belly. Her brows furrowing and a sudden wave of hope. 

“Right…” She flattens her hand there, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

[velvetvexations]

i refuse to watch the clone high revival.

IT AIN'T GOOD

This is my full review I posted in a server back when it aired:

The cast changes are one of the biggest issues. It completely throws the whole dynamic off because they lost Ghandi, who, admittedly, was inconsequential in terms of long term character relationships even if he was like half the show, but they add THREE new people who are all supposed to be way more relevant to the serialized story. Two fall very flat and one is okay but still misplaced. Let's talk about that. Confucius, at first, seems like the obvious 1:1 replacement for Gandhi because he's a cheery dude who partakes in silly antics. He's not a full Gandhi clone [copy] because unlike Gandhi, who had a habit of just assuming he was cool and proceeded to act like it, Confucious is, like, trying to get popular on Tikstagram, I guess? That honestly didn't really come up a lot, he just sort of drifts around being there whenever they need a guy who's not JFK or Abe. Then near the end he ends up in a relationship with Harriet Tubman, which is like, okay, because she's the only character even more generic than he is. Seriously, there is NOTHING about Harriet, absolutely nothing, I can say about her personality beyond "once was briefly concerned about turning into a wine mom". Her design being completely unrecognizable as a historical figure really plagues her whole character, like I truly in my heart of hearts believe that if you read the scripts they would all say "TBD Woman of Color".

Which brings us to the sidelining of Cleo. In the first season, Cleo was a major character and focus of several episodes. She was the person JFK was dating, that Abe wanted to date, and that Joan was rivals with. The entire show revolved around that relationship chain. So it's super fucking weird that Cleo goes several episodes into the second season before she gets more than a handful of lines. Here's why I think that is: Obviously, the second season had to be finished or very nearly finished by the time the Cleopatra [Queen Cleopatra (2023)] stuff blew up recently, but I think even before that we've hit a point where people are a lot more aware that Cleopatra was not Egyptian Egyptian and that her portrayal as such in the first season would get a little more side-eyed. This is even more true considering the mandated loss of Gandhi, as she and him were the only non-white leads. Adding two or three more PoC characters made sense! But being so awkward with the handling of Cleo, who did at least manage to wiggle back into the main plot a little, was still weird, and it sucks that two of the three added PoC characters were so badly handled. So which one worked? Frida Kahlo was pretty cool. I don't know nearly enough about the IRL person, but I can at least define her character on the show as the hyper-chill laid back girl and she had several funny jokes, and based on the little I do know of who she is, they referenced her being an artist several times as well as her distinctive physical appearance. Also, apparently her bisexuality, because Frida ends up with Cleo. And, you know, that's fine, but fucking Cleo? Can I please get an episode or three or six or an entire season just about Cleo realizing she's gay, because fucking what? It comes out (ha) that Frida likes Cleo and from there it's like, cool, she just has to have the courage to tell her, but that makes no sense. Even in this season Cleo has multiple jokes about being The Girl Who Is Hyper-Competitive And Puts Down Other Girls, like from top to bottom the stereotypical cheerleader of 2003, because, hey, the whole premise is that the clones were frozen in 2003 and were just unfrozen! can I get anything dealing with that beyond Abe almost saying the r-word in the first episode? *The old clones are from 2003, the new characters were raised since then and that generation gap is actually interesting when properly explored which it barely fucking is.

Okay. Moving on. There's another new character, Christopher Columbus's clone who goes by Topher Bus because he doesn't want to be attacked for it, and that's the first of several funny jokes we get from him that make him way more likable than the show wants him to be. He's given the early flaw that he's a dick online, but not even in a racist way or anything like that? In fact, he's generally shown to be pretty woke, and the main cast casually shove him out of the way when he tries to get involved with things! If they wanted to depict someone who like, pretends to be woke but really is an asshole or something, they do a terrible job of it and have him come off more like someone who's trying but keeps getting kicked for literally zero reasons. "Oh, but he's mean online!" Yeah, to JFK, who was an asshole like literally last week from the perspectives of the older clones. I don't mind JFK getting hit with the likability stick, but like with Cleo being into women it comes out of nowhere aside from the Abe Says a Slur joke where that contrasts JFK being told he's so sex positive for a lame cringe reference to wanting to fuck and you're clearly meant to think "ah, the roles have been reversed, now JFK is just a confidant bro while Abe is in danger of being an angry loser incel", but it just! Needs! More! Development than that! One interesting part of that dynamic flip is that now instead of Joan secretly pining for Abe while Abe openly pines for Cleo, Abe is secretly pining for Joan while she continues to date JFK as in the first season's finale. It gets kind of lost in the politics of the gender swap, though. Like, Abe is now in that incel space, and he tries to manipulate Joan and then feels real bad about it and stops, but taking the way that's framed with other things that happen this season it's like, oh, it's bad for a guy to manipulate a girl like this, even though Joan did that exact kinna thing back in season one and it was more just "lol wacky hi-jinx!". I'm not trying to be all Misandry Double Standard here, but it's one more reason why it would always be really hard to modernize this show in the first place. Another thing about Abe along similar lines is the musical episode, where a big deal is made of Abe having White Guy Confidence, and that is fucking astounding to me. Like, what? Abe is a constantly anxious loser who is fully aware of that fact, I get that White Guy Confidence is a thing but why the hell is Abe getting tagged with it and not JFK, who absolutely has always suffered White Guy Confidence? Beyond the fact that JFK is now a cinnamon roll out of thin air and Abe's new arc is about avoiding the MRA trap?

In that same subplot you had Sacagawea, George Washington Carver, and Kublai Khan fighting to be exceptional enough to shine despite Abe's white mediocracy, and again like with the primary additions nothing is ever done with either who they were or who they are now. They are literally just there because Non-White, which I want to stress I'm not railing against as a concept, but their lines could be given to literally anyone. GWC was actually in the first season, I'm not sure about the others, and there were some Goddamn peanut jokes! Maybe boiling him down to peanuts is an unconsciously racist meme, as is boiling down all of Black science to "the peanut guy", but if the new series is above that then maybe use fucking someone else you are comfortable reflecting in a humorous cartoon fashion that people will understand? It's not necessarily a race thing, like "oh they were overly cautious with the PoC characters". I can think of one joke offhand - not that it was the only one, just the only one I can think of - where the minor characters had a reference to their historical selves, and that was technically delivered by JFK. Between that and how generic Confucius and Harriet are, I feel like the whole idea, the first word in the title, just completely went out the window. In the first season, beyond spear-carrying "some bit character in this large crowd needs to provide a reaction to something", you'd never have an extended scene where a minor character wasn't making a historical reference. It might seem logical to allow them to be more than that, but think about it: these are, after all, minor characters. With the main cast, not every line has to be Nothing Bad Ever Happens to the Kennedys, but it's like when The Flintstones has everyone go to New Rock City to see The Rockles play a 60s pop song. It's like, what in God's name is the point then?

A few days later:

Okay. I think I've mediated on it enough. I can now give my opinion on a reworked season two. Here's what I would have done, assuming only that the mandate Gandhi be absent is absolute: The group dynamic more or less starts the same, with Joan dating JFK and Abe pining for her, it's a great reversed setup. Abe starts to drift in an incel direction, but Topher is there to provide the "don't get this bad" warning that keeps him on the straight and narrow. Joan and JFK quickly realize they aren't working out, and Joan figures maybe she wants to try lesbianism, because she just seems so much like she would be a WLW. She starts to go out with Frida while JFK teams up with Abe and basically acts as the new Gandhi in terms of silly comic relief who's often hanging out with the protagonist. They support each other in Abe getting with Joan and JFK getting back with Cleo, who's started going out with Topher partly because she's desperate for a boyfriend she actually enjoys being with and partly because she really hates having lost both Abe and JFK to Joan, but Topher is actually also in love with Joan, which puts him at odds with both Abe and JFK. Eventually Joan realizes she isn't gay but Cleo realizes she is and Cleo and Frida get together, which is extra emotionally satisfying because Joan lost someone to her this time. The wacky misadventures of Principle Scudworth and Butlertron are basically the same as they are in season two as it exists, the addition of Candide Sampson wasn't bad at all and overall those b-plots were pretty good with the exception of the really terrible Butlertron origin episode, but the end result in the season finale is all the clones being frozen again just as Joan is about to pick between JFK and Abe. Confucious and Harriet Tubman are not present.

At the time I did not propose further characters of color to replace either Confucious and Harriet and would have to think on it a lot to figure something out. Probably people other than me would be better at selecting good fits that are recognizable to an American audience. I also didn't solve the issue of Cleopatra not being Egyptian, but maybe they find out she's actually the clone of a less well-known Egyptian woman who started claiming to be Cleopatra for the clout? That's certainly something Cleo would do.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

I do think it’s really funny that in nova au metal disguises herself as a normal sweet innocent ingenue organic hedgehog to try and infiltrate team sonic but it immediately falls apart bc she’s rude and dramatic and completely ignorant of how people act (and it in fact fails so badly they skip straight from the “evil trap” suspicion into just thinking she’s a severely traumatised kid bc why would any infiltration attempt be this bad) meanwhile the bad end one has metal trying to do the whole intimidating evil overlord thing but it falls apart the second sonic does one (1) thing off her elaborate script and that falls apart and she's extremely awkward and accidentally immediately gives away that she accidentally fucked up killing sonic and ended up just having him kinda stuck chilling half trapped in his super form and did the whole “haha i kept you alive to Prove my superiority and Then I’ll kill you” thing is just damage control and she’s doing this bc she’s desperately lonely (and that ends up with her actually having her first friendship bc sonic is both Very Bored and kinda feels bad for her) like. idk.

[x-birdsong-x]

1 7 10 and 13 for Warriors?

1 - Frecklewish. Not a compliment. Mapleshade too, but on a different scale because it's the people pushing "perfect victim" on Frecklewish that play along with two YouTubers' out-of-context words being used to say Mapleshade was evil from the very start actually. Appledusk plays a part here too. I'll come back to this.

7 - Frecklewish, again. She's angry. She's absolutely furious. She and Oakstar plan to raise the trio as weapons to kill Appledusk. She wants one to be named Birchface because she sees them as only extensions of him. Mapleshade did a bad thing- for the sake of her kits, in her eyes- but Frecklewish does not wait for a reaction of any sort before she pounces on her and slits her eyelid. It takes two full-grown warriors to pull her off. All in front of the toddlers she calls half-clan creatures and stopped giving a rat's ass about as soon as they weren't related to her. Their confrontation at snakerocks was not a case of Frecklewish being non-confrontational or Mapleshade provoking her for the entire scene. Frecklewish jumps at her and screams that she wished Mapleshade had died, and this is during Mapleshade talking about Frecklewish seeing her kits in the river and never mentioning Freckle doing nothing to aid her.

Frecklewish shouldn't have jumped into the river, of course not. But she saw the RC patrol and they didn't realize what had happened right away. If Mapleshade could be IN THE WATER and hear Appledusk calling for her, then Frecklewish could've yelled over the river as soon as she saw the patrol to make sure the kits got across the stones safely. She followed them out of camp in the first place, making it impossible for Mapleshade to hide them on the territory considering Frecklewish attacked her once already and as we hear in the snakerocks scene, wants Mapleshade dead. She doesn't care about the kits as soon as they aren't related to her. She's not a precious little baby constantly crying for a blankie. She's impulsive and angry and judgemental. She didn't deserve hell, sure, but the fandom should've been angry that Oakstar and Appledusk stayed sippin' wine in heaven while only she got booted, rather than immediately going to "she did nothing wrong!11"

10 - I can easily get into more of Frecklewish and Appledusk here, but lets go for Mapleshade being painted as evil from birth and manipulative from the start and pinned as "Appledusk's abuser" is revolting. I don't care that the fandoms precious pair of leading YouTubers said one thing that can be taken as them thinking this. That one video is not well-written and full of out of context things and them acting morally superior for not liking Mapleshade because that wasn't the trend at the time until the fandom 180'd the second the video gained traction. The title of the video alone is spiteful. I could directly quote and talk about one thing said in that video that isn't twisting a simple line from the book, but I think the fandom would hang me. It's ironic that Mo/onk/itti can come out with acknowledging that people will defend male characters while "pulling apart every tiny infraction a female character has ever committed" while The Mapleshade Problem is doing nothing but that.

On another end, people who script the MAPs "about" Reedshine should ask themselves why they need to woobify and sympathize with Appledusk to sympathize with Reedshine (because everything is about a man and female characters are just DLC for male characters). The way so many people see nothing wrong with Freckle and Reed being characterized by the fandom as sad all the time purely over a man and thinking about a man 24/7 says a lot. Spending her whole life mourning a man who had an affair behind her back and called his children mistakes and used her to fuel his crocodile tears apology is nothing Reedshine deserves.

Reedshine's got an attitude herself, telling Mapleshade to go away and that she caused enough trouble was blatantly bitchy and a horrible thing to do, but considering her husband is a dishonest, two-faced, chickenshit son of a bitch I think she has the right to a rude moment or two. And no, that's not applicable to me refusing to play along with or defend the fandom ignoring Frecklewish's actual character.

13 - The same answers all around. Frecklewish and Appledusk. I'm also fiercely anti-crowfeather and gray wing <3.

[dramalets]

2024 Watch List pt3

Takura-kun & Amagi-kun - This has lots of the Japanese traits that I don’t always love but I did find myself warmed by it. It’s basically two boys being teenage and idiotic whilst learning how to love and be loved. I really liked the two besties in this. 3/5 (13/3/24)

Although I love you, and you? - Apparently this is wildly different from the manga so people were hating on it but, with zero knowledge of the manga, I have to say I enjoyed it. Very silly but had a nice emotional depth to it and Sakae & Soga made for interesting leads. Also loved the little found family of friends and bar regulars. 3 ½/5 (15/3/24)

One Room Angel - This could really only be Japanese. Beautiful, bittersweet and healing this does come with a lot of trigger warnings but if you can stomach it’s darker elements it’s really worth the journey. 4/5 (26/3/24)

Love is science (BL cut) - Just about an hour on YouTube this was delightful. Undoubtedly would not have enjoyed all the different het storylines but these two should have been a show on their own. Just lush. (No rate because it’s a cut. 28/3/24)

Senpai this can’t be love - Errm. Elements I really liked, and I don’t think it’s anywhere near as bad as some make it out to be, but it did have a very naff ending and they deserved a better kiss. These two were cute but probably not one I’ll reach to rewatch. 3/5 (30/3/24)

WaterBoyy - I really only watched this because I’m a dumbass with completionist tendencies. It’s a show? The story and script are absolutely insane. There is so much het nonsense, which I entirely skipped, weird dated language and extremely 2017 dubcon. I can give a lot of old shows a pass for being of their time but this is bad even by 2017 standards. I’ll give it a half point for being moderately well acted. But that’s it. 1/2 (1/4/24)

Our Dating Sim - Very cute. Packed a surprising amount of story into a short time frame. Also delivered some nice kisses. 3/5 (2/4/24)

Jun & Jun - Enjoyed most of this. Episodes 5 & 6 felt a little redundant. Great kisses, much higher heat than standard for a K BL. Would have loved more from the manager & idol pairing, they had an interesting history and I’d like to have seen them a little more developed. I could understand why no man could resist Lee Jun’s face, a 100% cutie. 3/5 (3/4/24)

Love is better the second time around - Much to love about this one. The acting all round was stunning, Aloha as Senpai’s bitchy assistant was hilarious and I need him in a main BL role again soon, the leads were able to tell whole stories in subtle facial expressions. I think the end was satisfying but I did feel like it could have used 8 episodes instead of 6. 4/5 (10/4/24)

Unknown - Quite the surprise. I’m a little hesitant with the pseudo incest, brother lover whatever the hell you want to call it trope. But this was done beautifully well. A mild melodrama with slice of life and found family at its core this is wholly worth your time and I loved it a lot. 5/5 (20/4/24)

We Best Love (1) - I definitely did enjoy this but it also didn’t overly wow me. Shu Yi is my perfect brand of arrogant stupidity wrapped up in a pissed off little cat package so he was an easy and delightful sell for me. Also obsessed with the cousin doctor. Sam Lin and Yu have extremely good chemistry and I’m excited to watch the second series. 3 ½/5 (29/4/24)

Two Worlds - This was silly and pulpy from the get go and stayed that way. The holes have holes in this and the ending was very expected but, having said all this, I still very much enjoyed myself. Wandee knows that mindless pulp & MaxNat are a great combo and truly it is. Would make an easy, delicious spam. 3/5 (16/5/24)

Boys be brave - This felt more Japanese than Korean in some parts? Lots of character examination and broken boys being stubborn. (100% more so in the secondary pairing which really never got explored enough for my tastes.) Overall I found this very enjoyable and it didn’t entirely fluff its ending up. 3 ½/5 (16/5/24)

23.5 - I don’t think this is without its issues but the things it did well I feel it did really well. The teens in this were authentically stupid and all their problems were also accurately teen. Ignore reviews telling you the writing is bad, it isn’t, it’s just extremely specifically teen. None of the problems the girls have are relatable for adults honestly but if you’re someone who never outgrew your teen angst or is just able to remember that period well you’ll enjoy this. Milk & Love were superb as was the entire cast. I’d love more light GL stories like this one and less melodrama and sadness. 3 ½/5 (24/5/24)

[misrepresentedmorallygrey]

PROPAGANDA

Mapleshade

Apparently some parts of the warriors fandom can't wrap their head around an unreliable narrator. She's not an innocent victim or a pure evil villain. She's complex. She was selfish, she took advantage of people but she was also cheated on by her mate (who by the way face little to no repercussions for having a half clan relationship with Mapleshade) and forced to leave her kit's bodies to be buried on RiverClan's territory, where she'd never be able to see them again. Mapleshade is a cat that never learned how to face the consequences of her actions. She arguably went insane from having her whole life be torn apart from her in a single day. Tbh I'd argue that if she was a tom, more people would be sympathetic towards her.

a woman will murder 3 people, use a dead guy's name to protect her and her kids' reputation, groom a kid into becoming a xenophobic dictator and people will still claim that she's an innocent justified victim. i love her and think she's a very interesting character (with her killing people partially to avenge her kits) but god, half the fandom doesn't read the books and it shows.

Angela

*LONG PROPAGANDA*

Angela is an AI made to run a facility (think of an scp facility thats the shortest explanation i have), from the second of her creation she was unloved and abused. People hate her because of the things she did, but they fail to realize WHY she did any of the those things. (spoilers for lobotomy corporation and library of ruina from this point) sure, she did a lot of bad things. she was generally pretty mean to everybody and ruined the big "plan" everyone was working towards for literally thousands of years. However. can you blame her? from the second she was created she was unloved and abused. her creator made her in the image of someone else, then hated her for not being that person. he made her fully sentient and intelligent only to then say "a machine must behave as a machine" whenever she acted like an intelligent being. he trapped her in a timeloop and made her experience time slower than everyone else, AND erased everyone elses memoried with every reset. Which left her alone, unable to make real progress towards the company's goal (completing the goal was also the only way for her to escape the timeloop or even LEAVE THE BUILDING) without just losing her progress anyway. The only people who didnt leave angela every loop was her creator and also a different guy who sort of helped make her, but her creator then felt bad about what they were doing and erased his own and the other persons memory, leaving her fully alone and expecting her to train his memoryless self. angela doesnt get to forget, if she feels bad about what theyre doing she just has to keep doing it. Until, after 10,000 years (which felt to Angela like 1,000,000) , they DID actually complete their goal. And Angela, wanting to be free, realized that she had no part in the end. She was meant to be destroyed with the facility. When she found this out, she started a big battle with all the other people in the facility. Eventually they had to agree to only let half of the light reach the city (not explaining that its complicated, just trust that it was the goal they were working towards) and Angela got to keep the rest. She still couldnt leave the area, so she started a library where the facility used to be. At this point another character shows up and befriends her. Through him, we get to learn that 1) literally nothing she did while managing lobotomy corporation was her own choice. everything there followed a script, and if she acted against the script the loop reset. when she was first started, she was shown to be super kind. but being kind was against the script, she literally wasn't allowed to not be an asshole. 2) now, she does have free will. and she chooses to kill people with it. she invites people to her library to turn them into books and when asked by almost everyone around her if she thinks that's morally okay, she justifies her actions again and again. she has to turn people into books to turn human, which will finally ACTUALLY grant her freedom okay, that last part is pretty bad. but, literally all she's known for ONE MILLION YEARS is hurting people. Shes finally doing something for herself, and in order to do that people have to be hurt. for her entire life, The Script and her creator told her that hurting people is Okay and Necessary if it achieves their goal. Besides, by the end of the game she realizes that she doesnt want to hurt people and literally gives up her goal to turn them back into humans from books. even after all her work. when she was So close to achieving what she wanted. In summary, Angela did a lot wrong, but I think blaming her for any of it means you really don't understand her.

regarded by many people as a wittle uwu baby must pwotect, a badass girlboss who did nothing wrong to her surroundings or the literal spawn of satan. no in-between