#if you like suspense watch femme

[chaoswillcalmusdown]

it's been like 5 hours and i think i'm still kinda stressed about femme (2023) which is surely the highest possible praise

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Five: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, arm/hand kink, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, suicide/death metaphor[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is and always will be the most romantic man to exist, that is all. Psycho!Stalker!Ani loves counting idk he just does & I know it.[diary entries from Ani] [texts from Luke] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: July 8th

You’d better be glad I’m patient, or else you’d have another dead neighbor.

When I heard the *wwoop* of your phone sending out a text on my computer I didn’t check it immediately. Until I heard four *pings* in quick succession.

‘Lukey, call me.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m in class.’

‘10 mins’

‘Or emergency?’

Remember how I said I like Luke? I like him a little bit less. Who texts like that… just write a sentence like a normal person. One sentence.

‘emergency!!’

Emergency? The panic that flooded my veins was icy-hot as I frantically pulled up a the live feed of your home and blasted the volume.

Nothing.

You were just sitting on the couch snacking on those Extra Toasty Cheezits that you love so much. (Cheezits was a marketing genius for that though, profiting off burnt ones because little weirdos like you lived for that one random burnt piece at the bottom of the bag. Goofy girl.)

That doesn’t seem very ‘emergency!!’ to me. Unless you’ve run out of Cheezits, but you haven’t. I would know.

I chewed my nails, paced the floor, and wrung out my hands. I couldn’t just walk over there and say ‘Hey! Just wanted to make sure you’re okay cause I cloned your phone and saw a concerning text! How can I help?’.

You seemed fine, you weren’t crying, you didn’t look upset. You just started scrolling through Instagram reels and rapid-fire sending them to your sister as if she’d actually watch them all. We all know she won’t, but if you ask she’ll say she did.

‘step out. emergency!!’

‘no, give me 4. it can wait.’

Jesus Luke, are you trying to make me dislike you? I can’t believe you’d make her wait like that. The girl said it’s an emergency. That means pick up the fucking phone, dial her fucking number and say ‘I’m on my way, what’s going on?’

Drop everything and fucking run. I’d jump from a moving train if I got that text from you. Train station who? I have two legs and I can run pretty fast as long as I have the right motivation.

Pass a kid on a bike? ‘Scuse me I’m commandeering this vehicle.’ I’d be the fucking flash with pink tassels and purple glow wheels.

‘Now!!’

The suspense was literally killing me. I was withering away with worry.

‘if it’s the guy again I swear to god.’

Guy? What guy? What had I missed? There was a guy in your life that wasn’t me?

‘just fucking call me.’

Yeah, you heard the girl. Fucking call her already.

“No he did not.” Luke scoffed, as if what you’d told him was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard in ages.

“I swear. I swear he did!” You giggled folding over on the couch.

“There’s no way a straight man did that for you and didn’t try to fuck.” Luke laughed. “I don’t believe you. You’re delusional.”

“I am not!” You defended, not actually hurt by his comment but wanting to prove him wrong anyway.

“I literally don’t believe you.” He let out a snort and whispered something to Han on the other end of the line. “Han said he’s still set on Ben for you.”

“I told you I am not interested. There’s a reason I never texted him!” You retorted.

“Yeah because you lost his number you pea-brain.” He teased.

“No.” You said with a slightly haughty tone. “I happen to believe it was just the universe telling me it wasn’t meant to be.”

“That’s a really good justification for loosing his number.” Han’s voice came through the speaker slightly muffled from his distance.

“Shut up both of you. You’re horrible.” You laughed. “I’m sticking to it. The universe said no and I’m no match for the powers that be, m’kay?”

“Sure babes.” Luke said, you could almost hear his stupid little smirk.

“Anyway. Yes, look I’ll send you a picture of the book okay?” You hopped up quickly and snapped a picture to send to Luke’s phone. “Cause I can’t exactly send you a picture of him helping me with my groceries.”

“Mmhmm I know because it didn’t happen.” Luke said flatly. “Hard to get a picture of a hallucination.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed, Luke was just being protective. It’s not like he was wrong, most men wouldn’t do something like that out of the kindness of their heart.

“This would be so much easier if you had an iPhone. You might be hideous but I still miss your face.” You teased, hearing Han’s booming laugh in the background.

“Whatever.” Luke grumbled, “okay, so what am I looking at here?”

“See it’s this collection of paper that has typed out wo-“

“Smartass. I mean: what’s so… cool? about it?” He interrupted.

“It’s a special edition. $50. He just gave me a special edition book without a second thought.” You said excitedly. “Remember I lost my copy not too long ago?”

“Mmm yeah I think I remember.” He said noncommittally. “You should really keep up with your shit.”

“Hey I’m doing better!” You retorted. “My life is so put together right now. You’d be amazed.”

“Delusional Han I’m telling you.” He snickered quietly.

“Oh my god! Have you no faith in me at all?” You scoffed. “I haven’t forgotten to charge my phone or take my medicine. I’ve kept everything tidy. All my important stuff stays in my bag.”

“You’ve been possessed.” Luke gasped.

“Fuck. If I have then I’ve got the sweetest demon the 7th circle could provide.” You joked. “I’ve even been sleeping better, I think maybe even boogie is happier too. She’s started sitting at the living room window to watch the pigeons again.”

“Aw, my niece.” He crooned. “My *favorite* niece.”

“What about leia’s new-“

“I said what I said.” Luke interrupted.

Diary Entry: July 8th

The way you gushed about me on the phone was everything I could’ve asked for and more. I’ve never been so fucking proud of myself. I feel like I could… I don’t know lift a fucking car or something. I feel good. This is a good feeling, to be appreciated like this.

I want you to know how happy you’ve made me today.

To hear your voice, see your face, watch your body language as you spoke about how we met and our little chat today. I could live off purely that for days. Your giggle is nourishment for my soul, your voice is honey to drink with my tea, your beauty is the sugar in the much-to-big spoon I’d use to stir it with.

That’s what life with you would be like. Tea time. It’s soft, I always think of tea time as being soft; a big blanket of comfort and security. I just feel like it’s the perfect metaphor.

You are the ingredients. The tea leaves, honey, sugar, and water.

I am the the cup and life, fate, whatever it may be, is the spoon.

Can you use all of those things separately? Sure. But would it make much sense to pour hot water on a pile of dry leaves, drizzle some honey and sprinkle sugar into a goopy puddle right on the kitchen counter?

Would it be enjoyable to drink air from a small cup and leave the spoon lonely and unused?

No.

You need me to hold you; you are so many things. All of them are perfect and all of them are uniquely you. But when joined together in a secure little cup you’ll have the opportunity to mesh those things into something new.

A cup is just a cup if there’s nothing in it. Cold and empty ceramic. Sturdy and reliable although delicate when handled irresponsibly.

Fill me with you. All of you.

You’ve already started that you know? Each tea leaf is a tidbit of you.

Your likes and dislikes. Your happiest memories and even your sad ones, your angry moments, your bad days. I love and cherish even the deepest caverns and widest chasms in your beautiful mind. Without them, you wouldn’t be you.

Please believe me when I say that even if the leaves are crumpled or incomplete… it doesn’t mean that they won’t make tea.

Honey, my favorite. Your personality. God you’re so fucking sweet it hurts. Your voice, those lovely lips that speak such well written poetry.

My love, everything you say is a hymn.

I wasn’t a religious man before you. My Goddess, I fall to my knees at the altar for you. Speak to me and you’ll sing to my very soul. Tell me truth, tell me lies, tell me those things that float through the nether. I’ll take it all as gospel.

Ask of me anything and I will spill blood, even if it is my own, to provide you with whatever you wish.

I never understood why honey was akin to the nectar of the gods until I met you.

Now I understand. To taste you is to taste life. To smell you is to breathe freely. To feel you is to be soothed.

Sugar. Do you know how many grains of sugar are in the average tablespoon? Around 60,000. The human eye processes visuals at the average rate of 13 milliseconds per image. Even faster if presented with an image that invokes emotion. Though for the purposes of math, we will go with 13 milliseconds.

13 milliseconds is about 75 frames per second. 60 seconds in one minute. 4,500 frames.

If the average tablespoon holds 60,000 grains of sugar that’s 270,000,000 frames per second.

4,500,000 minutes. 75,000 hours. 3,125 days. About 102 months. Alittle over 8 years.

I use 3 tablespoons of sugar per cup of tea.

That means by our 25 anniversary I will have been graced with every grain of your beauty.

By then I’ll probably need a few more spoonfuls if I plan to survive raising children with you. If they’re as hyperactive as you get sometimes I’ll fucking need it.

Oh well. Just more time for me to bask in your beauty.

All these things have filled me, your cup. All that I need now is water. Your love.

The kind of love that burns so hot that it bubbles up beneath your skin and makes you itch if you’re apart for too long.

That’s what happens when water boils, the atoms separate and bounce around until they come back together as the water cools.

Just like us.

I’m the flame that’s heating your water, the closer I get the hotter it’ll grow until it’s rattling the kettle, screaming to be let out and bring all the pieces together.

Adding that boiling water, your love. It will bring life to me. You’ll warm the cold ceramic shell that I’ve been for so long. Fragile and lonely and horribly handled. I might have a few chips but the foundation is strong and worthy.

A cup is just a cup if there’s nothing in it.

You give me purpose. You make me useful.

I will let our love steep. Let it steep, because you can’t make tea without all the ingredients and a water-worthy cup.

We will stir it and stir it and stir it until the the hand of fate declares us ready, I will be there for you at the *clink* of the spoon against my rim.

I will be there after to hold you until the very last sip.

I will be there until I am broken beyond repair.

If the last sip happens before my ceramic cracks… I will be quick to join you after slipping through the hands of fate.

It’s a long winded way to say that I love you, but if you wanted, I would memorize it and recite it for you every night before drift to sleep.

Diary Entry: July 12th

You’re so cute.

I don’t know how you haven’t noticed that your laundry detergent should’ve run out ages ago. I giggle like a school girl everytime I see you at the laundromat holding it up to measure it out.

I’ve started washing my stuff in the same as you, I love the way your laundry smells.

But I love the way you smell even more.

You just bought some new sheets recently and I took the liberty of ordering the same ones. What luck that we both use a queen size bed huh? The cutesy little strawberry print isn’t exactly my style but I don’t give a shit. The giddy way you opened up your package was nothing short of adorable.

You know what else is super handy about using the same detergent?

You won’t notice when I switch them out.

You’re washing them for the first time today since you just received them in the mail yesterday. I know you’re so excited to put them on and make your pretty pink bed up, I’m amazed you had the patience to wait until today to go to the laundromat. It’s open 24/7, proud of you baby. Prioritizing that good deep sleep you’ve been getting.

You’re welcome, and thank you.

Watching you sleep from the end of the bed is one of my favorite things. It just… I don’t know it makes me feel comforted to be there. It’s the closest thing to sleeping next to you that I can get right now. Then I’ll be getting some good deep sleep.

It’s hard for me to rest if I can’t reach out and make sure you’re safe.

The audio from your room is wonderful ASMR though. Your snores and snuffles and the rustling of blankets while you sprawl out and occupy as much space as your body can manage; it’s soothing to me.

Partially because I know you’re okay, partially because I was able to give you that deep rest.

You wash your sheets once a week because you love the feeling of fresh warm linens. It’s the simple pleasures of life that bring you the most joy. That’s something I adore about you.

So here’s the plan. I’m a man of my word and I promised you a reward for all your hard work didn’t I? I’m also a man who enjoys the killing of two birds with one stone.

Life goes so much more smoothly if you take the time to line up the shot.

That’s why I immediately ordered my own set as soon as I checked your Amazon account. Mine arrived today too and I’ll be stopping by the laundromat just as you’re leaving. I’ve left them in the box and put it at the bottom of my basket though, I don’t want to ruin the surprise you know?

I’m so glad I was able to hear your little chat with your friends. Not only was it a wonderful reassurance, it also allowed me to plan our encounters more closely together. I’ve made myself known to you, I’ve spaced out our previous meetings well enough to leave you wishing you’d catch me out in the hallway even for a quick hello.

Trust me I have been dying to indulge you. But if this whole relationship has taught me anything it’s: trust the process.

See you soon princess, my timer just went off. I’ll be there just in time to watch you nuzzle your face into the last warm item of clothing from the dryer before tossing it in the basket.

Date:

July 12th

You were tossing the last of your clean laundry into the basket when the bell above the door jingled. Purely out of habit you glanced over, instead of the usual stranger or semi-familiar face, it was Anakin.

He seemed not to notice you straight away, keeping his head down and walking to the washer/dryer set closest to the front window.

It was shameful the way you took this opportunity to stare and soak him up. His whole physique just screamed at the primal parts of your brain. The parts that want you to sprint across the laundromat and l seduce him into ravaging you right up against the glass he stood near. Who cares who sees? You’d be beyond proud to be spotted in the throes of passion as long as it was him who was behind you.

The way his arms moved should be illegal. How is it possible for someone to be so… lean? The veins that and corded tendons that roll beneath his skin become even more visible as his wrist gives way to his hands.

Wide palms that would be perfect for grabbing a handful of your ass. Gripping your hips to guide you down onto what you can only assume is an equally impressive cock.

Long fingers as the most elegantly carved necklace. Fingertips that could trace swirling patterns across the vast expanse of your skin. Those same fingertips caressing the slick and swollen folds that just so happened to be in desperate need of his attention.

How could you not be a puddle of a person when he locks eyes with you like that? Like he’s reading the transcript of your soul, his eyes never stayed in one place too long. He needed to take in as much of you as possible each and everytime he was in your company.

How could you not forget how to speak when he walks over to you with such confidence? His towering frame would be intimidating if he didn’t radiate comfort. He seemed like he knew he had that affect on you, or maybe he was just one of those clueless types. That special kind of man who doesn’t realize what a catch they are.

“What’s up sweet girl?” He asked with that same gritty tone that had you feigning for him in ways he’d find unholy.

“Hey Anakin.” You managed to tone down the smile that instantly spread across your face. “I was just about to leave…”

“Well isn’t that a shame.” He chuckled, his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes and back again before he looked up and away. Stretching his arm up behind his head to rub his neck.

“Hmm yeah it is.” You murmured, too distracted by the tiny sliver of skin and dark hair the peaked out from beneath the hem of his shirt.

“Eyes up baby.” He teased, his finger tapping the underside of your chin before you could even register his hand was coming toward you.

‘Jesus Christ.’

If he can make your knees this weak from a few words… it’s almost concerning to think of the state you’d be in after he rearranges your guts.

The blush on your cheeks could’ve been mistaken for a sunburn, never had you felt so fucking embarrassed and flustered at the same time. You couldn’t even be mad.

“Let me help, yeah?” He said, choosing to glaze over your blatant staring and not push it farther with the teasing comments.

Truly a gentleman.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah.” You nodded. “Thanks.”

You managed a soft smile as your brain attempted to rewire itself into working condition again. He closed the dryer and placed your detergent and fabric softener beads into your basket and carried them over to his washer/dryer combo, expecting you to follow.

He sat it down near one of the many metal folding chairs lining the wall and turned to you again, his expression one of concern? Worry? Apprehension?

“You okay sweetheart?” He asked gently. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“What?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing. “Uncomfortable? No, no.” You shook your head in realization that he must’ve assumed he’d struck a nerve with his flirtatious comment.

“You sure?” He asked.

Somehow his hands, those strong hands that you just knew would feel like heaven on your skin, had made their way to your biceps. Slowly traveling the length of your forearm to hold both of your hands in his, your fingers curved over his while his thumb rubbed your knuckles.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You nodded, shooting him a bashful smile.

His eyes searched your face like he was scanning for even the most minuscule change in expression, any twitch of your lip or shift in your line of sight that might say otherwise. When he was sure you were being truthful he spoke again.

“Alright princess,” he conceded with a warm tone. “you sticking around or headed out?”

“I’d stay to chat for a bit if I could, but I’ve gotta clock-in, in about… 45mins.” You said, thankful for the change in subject.

Anakin never failed to both confuse and amaze you. Every fucking time you spoke to him. You were tired of telling yourself he was just too damn good to be true, fuck it, he is that good.

In all your years, you’d never had a man check-in with you like that and in such a caring and considerate way… you couldn’t have dreamed up a man like this. It was a small detail of his character, but it made a world of a difference.

If you would’ve said ‘yes, that made me uncomfortable.’ you had no doubt in your mind that he would apologize and mean it. He’d mean it, apologize with his whole chest and make sure that it never ever happened again.

That was the kind of comfort and security that only a fictional love could provide.

But here he is.

In the flesh.

Maybe hearing about this, Luke might change his mind. Luke was only doing his job as your best friend and protector, shielding you from the dangers of the average Brad that you’d dated in the past. But…

Anakin’s not that kinda guy.

“You know, I don’t think you’ve ever told me where you work.” Anakin pointed out.

“Huh, I guess I haven’t.” You realized. “Bluebird Diner. It’s a good place to eat, yummy pie.”

“Oh yeah I’ve been there before!” Anakin said happily, “that butterscotch pie is so good, oh my god.”

“Right?” You agreed excitedly. “That’s my favorite. I’ll have to tell Rosa that she’s getting compliments on it. She’ll be thrilled.”

“Maybe I’ll grab a slice later.” Anakin suggested. “Before I have to go clock-in.”

“Where do you work?” You asked, finding it a bit comical that you were drooling over him but didn’t even know this basic detail of his life.

“The Cerulean.” Anakin nodded toward the window. “Just a couple blocks from here.”

“The Cerulean? What do you do, bartend?” You asked, curious as alittle itch in the back of your mind needed to be scratched.

“Mhm, I do.” He smiled.

“I think… oh my god. I think I’ve seen you there before!” You laughed. “It was a while back but I was there with some friends… you made my drink!”

“Really?” Anakin laughed. “Shit don’t make me feel bad baby, I don’t remember that.”

“I didn’t expect you too.” You giggled. “The place was packed. I can’t imagine how many people you serve a night.”

“You’ve got no idea.” He blew out a puff of air, with a chuckle.

“Well I’m due for a night out soon,” you said with a grin. “You come grab some pie later and I’ll come get a drink from you tomorrow night.”

“Sounds like a deal princess.” He beamed.

Part Six

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @doblasftcisco @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @rorysbrainrot @hopesworlld @lonaah @t8lzw @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco

THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

We are up to seven live airing QLs from Japan! Five of these are on Gaga and two are being generously provided via fansubs.

A brief interlude for me to climb on my soapbox: if you are a fan of Japanese queer media who is not based in Japan, you really should be supporting GagaOOLala. They are the sole international distributor of most of these shows and the only reason international fans can watch them as they release. They’re a queer-owned Taiwanese company specifically focused on providing international access to global queer media, and their monthly subscription is much cheaper than other streaming services. They’re not perfect but they are quite responsive to feedback about their catalogue and approach; please consider subscribing if you love these shows!

I’m really loving most of these shows and I highly recommend jumping in to the weekly watch!

Takara's Treasure

I fall more in love with these two every week. We finally got some answers on Takara's backstory, and as expected, it is the mother who abandoned him that has been harassing him. Taishin blazed in to give that lady a piece of his mind before even realizing who she was, and it only made Takara love him more. The revelation that Takara is holding back with Taishin because he doesn't want to be covetous like his mother sent me into a bit of a tailspin. I loved Taishin getting his moment to reciprocate Takara's care, as well as Takara's amusement that Taishin still hasn't pieced together what they are to each other. I'm excited for it to finally click for him soon.

Sugar Dog Life

I'll be honest, this first episode did not hit right for me. I always struggle with copaganda heavy romances, especially when the show is intentionally framing cops as benevolent and explicitly linking that to the romantic arc. But I liked the cooking parts of it a lot! We'll see how it proceeds. This one is being fan subbed, so if anyone is having trouble finding it feel free to hit me up in DMs and I'll point you.

Cosmetic Playlover

This one is coming in hot with two episodes a week, because Japan is trying to kill me. I like the concept and vibe but the execution is a bit all over the place; it feels like they want this to be a dark story but aren’t willing to fully commit to that, so dark things happen but then get treated too lightly. The pacing also feels a little wacky and we’re rushing through plot and relationship development in a way that leaves it all feeling a bit ungrounded. Sahashi went from harassing and threatening to out Natsume to kissing and claiming to be serious about him in the space of 15 minutes, and then suddenly in the next ep there’s a new villain and suspense plot. This one is just not clicking; I’m tilting my head with a furrowed brow.

I Hear the Sunspot

Sigh. I really didn’t need another arc about a third party interloper coming between the boys, but here we are. Maya is a throwback to the bad old femme fatale archetype steeped in misogyny and I don’t love it. She’s arrogant, manipulative, and mean for no good reason, and she doesn’t feel like she fits in this story about decent people trying their best. There was a way to do this plot with a more sympathetic portrayal of her, but unfortunately they didn't take that route. I’m disappointed that she’s with us for multiple episodes, and it’s hard to believe this rude little girl can really come between them. I said last week that it felt like they regressed Kohei and Taichi’s relationship in the time skip and I’m feeling that even more now. Aside from this mess, I really liked all of Taichi’s scenes with his friends this week as he continues trying to work out his feelings for Kohei. I hope we get back to Taichi and Kohei spending time together again soon; that’s the real heart of this show and I already miss it.

Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko

Sigh. Last week I was mad at the characters around Hiroko, but this week I am forced to be mad at the show for how it's dealing with this entire plot involving Hiroko's decisions about her privacy at work, Risa's inappropriate interference, and Ayaka's bizarre conclusion that she should announce her love for Hiroko to the whole office. This whole love triangle and forced outing plot was ill-considered and it's dragging the show down; we should not have had Risa being so wrong and manipulative or ventured into queer workplace politics at all if the show wasn't prepared to take it seriously. On the plus side, we finally got the backstory for Hiroko, and it was surprising in a good way. I hope this show can get back to the zany comedy it was doing so well before it got bogged down in all this mess.

Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

Episode 3 just went up on @isaksbestpillow's blog, and it's a fantastic one. I was howling watching Mitsuya wailing on his ex and poor Ishida trying to process this new rival on the scene. Shige continues to be the MVP and I loved the way he encouraged Ishida with a mix of sage advice and sexy sass (also loved that Mitsyua immediately knew that gossip ratted him out). And I screamed again when Ishida got worked up and confessed; I didn't expect that to happen so fast and it was excellent! This show feels so mature in the best way; I really feel like I'm watching adults who have lived.

Tagging @bengiyo to add the anime update!

[jordanrosenburg]

Argylle - A Breath of Fresh Air

**Spoilers Ahead**

I just got back from seeing Argylle with a friend. I knew I had wanted to see it because I like a lot of the actors in it, but I had seen the trailer so many times that I felt like I had already watched it.

That trailer couldn't have prepared me for the unadulterated fun I was about to have. Every other line out of Sam Rockwell's mouth was laugh out loud funny. What kept me drawn in, though, was the editing. The splices between Rockwell and Cavill was seamless. I know with modern technology, they easily could have greenscreened a lot of it, but it still must have taken a while to film all the same fight scenes in the same exact way to make the cuts as seamless as they were.

The score and soundtrack were brilliant. Between the funky tunes used for the fight scenes, and the dramatic notes used during what would be dramatic in a regular spy thriller, had me enjoying every minute. I will be looking up the soundtrack playlist on Spotify and listening repeatedly.

Henry Cavill is no stranger to playing a spy. In between Superman movies, Cavill starred in The Man from U.N.C.L.E. The latter was another movie that didn't mind being silly and wasn't afraid to have its comedic moments. Because Cavill has played so many daring roles over the years, where he's been the hero or the brute or even just the eye candy, he was the perfect fit for Argylle. You can tell he was having a blast, and not taking things too seriously. The audience isn't supposed to take it seriously either. The Argylle books in the movie are a personification of how cheesy those sorts of books and movies can be. The eye-rolling puns, the use of a femme fatale, and crude jokes.

Back in the day, that's how most James Bond movies were. They had their serious moments, but Bond was a cheeky spy who liked to fuck and crack wise with his villains. He was suave and sure of himself and a badass. But there was a transition in the 90's when the Austin Powers movies started rolling out. Now, I'm a huge fan of Austin Powers movies, I'll watch them any time, any place. But those movies, being replicas of the old Bond films but with more humor, outlandish sex, and over the top puns, made it difficult for the new Bond films to be silly. Suddenly, they were getting more and more serious, with more and more over the top action scenes and explosions.

Argylle brought back the silliness and the goofiness, and the ability to laugh at itself. Suspension of disbelief, etc etc. Sometimes you just need to sit back and let yourself enjoy the ride. Throughout the film, as the layers kept being peeled back, I kept thinking, "What is this movie?!" I can usually figure out what's going to happen, but the twists and turns in this film kept throwing me off, and that kept me in my seat and having fun.

There's a scene where Bryce Dallas Howard's character, Elly, thinks she's seen her parents die in cold blood. Rockwell is driving her somewhere in the south of France, and he asks her if she's okay. Howard, astonished, asks, "Am I okay? Am I okay?!", and then she started crying. This made me lean over to my friend and say, "all of us @ Elmo the other day", and we burst into hysterics. (If you're unfamiliar, Elmo's X account posted asking how everyone was, and there was a surge of responses of people using memes to show how not well they all are.)

A little more than halfway through, we find out that Elly's real name is Rachel Kyle. She had gotten into a bad accident on a spy mission and had no memory. The bad guys brainwashed her into thinking she was someone else, and it worked. The Argylle books she wrote as Elly, were really just memories coming back to her. We were made to believe her books were predicting future events, but really, it was the past. Samuel L. Jackson explained that to her. Rockwell then had to calm Howard down and get her to settle into the information. Slowly, Rachel remembers who she is. She hasn't lost all of Elly, but she makes it seem like she has in order to complete the overall mission.

Rockwell thinks that Howard has double crossed her, but in a very Knives Out fashion, she explains that she knew if she shot him in the chest in just the right spot, he wouldn't die. We learn that the two were lovers back in the day. Not only did he feel betrayed, but he was heartbroken. Later on, she double crosses the bad guys, finds her cat, then finds a room with all the weapons she could possibly need to get out. Rockwell finds her there, and they're able to hash things out. She assures him that they're on the same side.

This leads into one of the most incredibly choreographed fight scenes I've ever seen. You can tell the actors were having an incredible time. Smoke pours into the corridor and the two come out shooting. While throwing in body rolls and other dance movements, they take everyone out. This also included Howard lifting Rockwell up, much like how Dua Lipa was lifted up during the beginning of the movie by Henry Cavill, spread eagle. The shots used every time there was a lift like this was not subtle. We get it, it's an innuendo for sitting on someone's face. And it was funny every single time.

Then the next fight scene happened, which gave Howard a moment to shine. They were trapped in a room that was slowly filling with oil, so they couldn't shoot their guns. She remembers she's actually good at ice skating, and puts together makeshift skates. She sticks a knife into a gun, then rushes out like a hockey player. I thought I was going to pass out from laughing so hard. It was the perfect mix of hockey style skating and figure skating. Were these scenes filled with CGI and body doubles? Yes. Did it make them less fun? Absolutely not.

Everything works out in the end because of course it does. Her ending is given to Argylle and Wyatt. Personally, I think Henry Cavill and John Cena should have kissed, they were clearly in love. I thought they would have since Rockwell and Howard kissed. All of the scenes paralleled one another, so why couldn't that one? I digress.

For one last big laugh, at the end of the movie, Howard is back to pretending to be Elly the author, and is doing a book reading of the final Argylle book. She's taking questions from the audience, and she calls on a man. He stands and knowingly smiles. It's Henry Cavill, only he has a curly mullet and a southern accent. What is it with British actors and doing southern accents that brings me so much joy? He says, "I don't have any questions, but I'm sure you have a couple for me", and winks.

There was a post-credits scene. It was supposed to be the actual Argylle book's first film adaptation. The scene takes place in a bar called The King's Man. An Easter egg thrown in by director, Matthew Vaughn, who has also directed the 2021 film by the same name. We couldn't tell if it was serious or not, but I'd love to see a movie based off the fake books. I think mostly because the writer, Jason Fuchs, and Matthew Vaughn, should definitely team up again.

Even though there were parts reminiscent to other spy movies, this is one of the most creative movies I've seen in a while. This is my favorite kind of satire. There are so many movies that are just remakes of remakes of remakes these days. It feels like there are no original ideas left. So, this was a breath of fresh air. It was so funny and so brilliant with a star studded cast. I bet this movie was so fun to work on, you could just feel that energy radiating from the actors. There were some slower parts, but that's to be expected. For the most part, my attention was kept. It was one of those movies where I left thinking, "I can't wait for this to come to streaming so I can watch it again".

I don't think Howard is the strongest actor, and some of the plot between the good spies and the bad spies was a little confusing. I found a lot of that hard to follow, maybe that was supposed to be on purpose. Most spy movies aren't always clear on what the main issue is.

Anyways, if you're looking for an escape from the cold, or an escape in general, this is definitely the movie to see.

[calicohyde]

Lady In Red: Chapter One of Curse The Messenger Draft 1.4

I reached a follower milestone hosted a poll about what I should do to celebrate, and you all voted that I should publicly post this chapter of Curse The Messenger! I'm posting this here as well as on AO3. If you prefer to read it there, click here. Listen to this WIP's playlist while you read!

Chapter Summary:

Eddie Alfaro is dissatisfied with her job as a clairvoyant private investigator. The community of witches that makes up her clientele are prejudiced against her for her gift of Seeing, and the cases are always inconsequential and boring anyway. Infidelity, stolen heirlooms, that kind of thing. On top of that she's struggling with survivor's guilt, grief, and alcoholism, and she thinks her sibling is starting to get sick of her shit.

Then a gorgeous, elegant stranger shows up on Eddie's door and offers her an interesting case - a murder with no body. The woman says the case is Eddie's to solve, provided Eddie can figure her out first.

ENTICEMENT TAGS: Horror, Detective Noir, Urban Fantasy, Modern with Magic, Murder Mystery, Suspense, Surrealism, Character(s) of Color, Queer Character(s), Autistic Character(s), Nonbinary Character(s), Neopronouns, 1990s, Private Investigators, Romance, First Meetings, Butch/Femme

CONTENT WARNINGS: Body Horror, Sleep Paralysis, Possession, Unreality, Blood, Alcohol Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Smoking

All nights are dark, and a fair few are stormy too. On those nights, the trees lining the streets shake in vengeful winds. Water comes down sideways. It could soak a loyal guard cat through all the way down past its thick undercoat. It would have to swim through the intersections.

Human beings don't mind the wet so much, though. No city truly sleeps, and Cane Street still enjoys a sluggish cacophony of visitors even late on a night like this. The chatter of people - and of the things besides people that hover around them - rises above the din of the rain pattering down on the striped awnings. The soft, desaturated glow of decorative string lights in the shallow darkness casts ill-fitting halos over the heads of smoking diner patrons. Lightning snaps bright across the dark sky, forcing any wandering shadows back into place beneath their casters.

On the residential streets, the noise from the commercial block is muffled but still present under the rain. It's darker here too. There's less light pollution of course, but that's not the only thing keeping the night black. Shadows would be wise to stick a little closer when walking here. The cats watch from the trees and the quiet apartment buildings, ready to catch anything that makes itself a little too interesting.

The houses are dark for the night and just shy of uniform, each with brick porches and wrought iron banisters. But every now and then there is one that has the air of witchery about it. Lots of people have power, though there aren't many with enough to do anything with. That's luckier than not.

Barely audible to a particularly sensitive ear is the click click click of someone in heels coming nearer and nearer. Most nights, there isn't anyone there. The gutters are full with rushing water and the stench of stirred up sewage, and beady little eyes. Some of them are just rats.

There is a two family home on the corner of Seventh and Spring, right across the street from a hole in the wall bar that would never let itself be seen closed. The house is exactly the same as every other in the neighborhood - when observed with only five senses.

The pillars are square and brick. The wrought iron railing along the concrete porch steps is the same boring twists as all the others. It has two dark wood front doors, both with even darker curtains covering their thin windows. The birch tree in the yard is ostensibly for shade, but was more likely planted for the benefit of the property value.

The only thing that separates the house that two eyes can see is the lively honeysuckle vine crawling its way up the right side, the buds reading out into the cramped alley in between this house and the next. Currently, it's wilting pathetically under the onslaught of rain. Fragrant crushed petals litter the alley gravel. What makes it special is that it blooms all year round, heedless of the seasons. Rumor among the local coven says that the residents of the building were given the plant by their absent father when he left them.

Rumors are loathsome as a rule. That one is in especially poor taste.

On this particular dark and stormy night, a long-haired person in an ankle length beige skirt comes out of the right side door of the house, crying softly enough not to be heard in the rain. Another person comes out after them - Fred, the elder of the siblings that live here. Xe's dressed in xyr typical ensemble: a fitted suit in some pale color, the exact shade obscured by the darkness of the hour and the ugly yellow of the porch light.

If an observer could look with more than two eyes - as more than one might like to think can do - the house is a stinking, glowing locus of magic. The two people on the porch stand out from it with their own auras of power.

Fred gives the impression of the palest of purples, like the honeysuckle flowers growing unnaturally in xyr yard. The other person isn't as powerful as Fred, but still of note. Their metaphysical shade matches their skirt, a pleasant light tan. The two auras interact strangely with the glaring overhead porch light. Occasionally the thing flickers, throwing their faces into drastically alternating shadows and relief.

Eventually, Fred claps a hand on the stranger's shoulder, ever more personable than xyr sister. Xe steers them toward the steps. The beige person doesn't have an umbrella with them, and yet they don't seem to get wet as they walk out from underneath Fred's porch and into the downpour. Fred does not watch them go.

Inside is dry and warm, but not much quieter. The windows are open to let in the noise and the washed-clean air. The spicy, earthy scent of burned sage almost covers up the smell of grease and salt from Chinese food take-out. Eddie sits cross legged on top of the work desk.

The desk is an imposing piece of work that was given to them by their papá before he left. Unlike the bit about the honeysuckle, that's a fact. It looks just like him too - hard, brown, and square. It's more than a decade old now and it shows; it's covered in scuffs and scratches and condensation rings. There are noodles on top now too, because Eddie still can't use chopsticks for shit.

The strap of Eddie's black coveralls falls down over one of her slouched shoulders. Her thick brown hair is dry and tangled, just beginning to curl over the collar of her white t-shirt. She'll be taking to it with a pair of kitchen shears some time soon.

Eddie's aura is stronger than her sibling's. That means she's more powerful than Fred, but for unfortunates who have to perceive it, that's no blessing. Eddie's presence is angry and sour, dull even despite its strength. It's the same bloody piss shade of brown as the whisky she's gulping down in between bites of lo mein.

"'Watchtower,'" she slurs derisively, continuing on from some age old argument that deserved Fred walking out on it. Her voice is thick, both with drink and with scorn. "What are we watching, anyway? Not shit. We're a joke."

"Don't say that," Fred says quietly. Xe could stand to be a little less feather light on xyr sister, but xe won't be. Not tonight. Tonight xe will fall on her cool and gentle, like the rain as it slows.

"It's not like anyone ever asks us to do anything important," Eddie insists. "And even if they ever did it's not like we could do it. We should just give up." Before Eddie finishes speaking, her sibling is already shaking xyr head.

"Eddie," xe sighs. Xyr voice is half scolding and half preternaturally patient. It's impossible to say how xe does this. "What we do is important to our clients. We help people."

Eddie only laughs, meanly, and drinks.

The siblings sit in silence for long minutes, until all the food has been eaten and the candles have all gone out. Then Fred rises and wrestles the booze away from xyr sister. The painful routine about to unfold is familiar to them both.

Fred tugs at Eddie's shoulder, Eddie grumbling in drunken recalcitrance and refusing to stand until Fred gives up and drags her bodily off of the desk by force. Papers rustle as they're crushed and ripped under Eddie's ass. There's the dull clink of hard plastic falling to the wood floor. The siblings put all their glass away a long time ago.

Fred all but carries Eddie from the right side of the house, the headquarters of Watchtower Investigations. Past the organized chaos of crystals and candles and dubiously legal photographs, through the door with the frosted window, and across the hall to the left side apartment where they live. Fred drags Eddie through there too, and then dumps her into her bed. Xe doesn't let her see xem flinch when she turns away from xyr attempt to kiss her forehead.

It may take hours for Eddie to sink into sleep, or it may take minutes. Inebriation can make telling the difference a little difficult. The drink makes her limbs heavy and keeps her tears at bay, never mind if she might like to cry them or not. She can hardly remember what that feels like by now, after so many years of falling to bed from Fred's arms just like this. Although as drunk as she is, she can hardly remember much else either.

When at last Eddie does sleep, the sky is still dark but now clear.

The moon and the light pollution in the city together are easy to see by, even in the dirty back alleys. She can navigate them without much trouble, each one familiar to her from all her time spent here during the days. She creeps past the cracked open back door of a bar. The lights from inside fall half across her face, the smell of booze and the smoke of cigarettes gusting over her like the bar is breathing.

She expects a rancor of cheerful voices with an undercurrent of tinny rock music. Instead there is silence, heavy to near painfulness in her ears. She wants to pause in the doorway and stare, to take a moment to reconcile the sight with the lack of sound, but her gaze and her body continue on as if she is not their pilot.

Her dirty blonde hair falls into her face and she blows it away with a puff out the side of her mouth. Her hands are full with her camera in one hand and the pocket knife her girlfriend gave her in the other. Her glasses slip down her sweaty nose, and she can't push those up either. Luckily her frames are large enough that she can still see through them, for now.

Finally, a lone noise comes to her ears from up ahead. It's the muffled splat of something wet landing onto the gravel of the alley below it. It's not loud; it must have fallen - or been dropped - from a short distance.

Her heart picks up speed. She hadn't noticed it was already racing, but now it pounds painfully against her sternum, impossible to ignore. Her grip tightens on her camera, her shaking finger hovering preemptively over the shutter button as if it's the trigger of a gun.

If she's right she'll finally be able to prove it, get someone to take her seriously and do something. But if she's right - and she knows she is - that means she's in more danger than she's ever been in before, and that's not saying a little. She should turn and run. She should go back home, or even better she should go to someone else's place. Maybe she could move into Bacchanalia for a while.

But she's never been known for that kind of caution. She's wise in other ways. She takes quiet steps closer.

She's woefully, sickeningly unprepared, she realizes all of a sudden. She has all the knowledge she could possibly have (and knowledge is power; she truly believes that). Her confidence in her evidence is unflinching. When she set out tonight, she knew the pocket knife she wields now wasn't much as far as weapons but it was more than she'd usually carry and it made her feel safer. It made her feel like she could be more of a threat, if she needed to be. But now she can only feel the sucking lack of power in herself. There's a sense of absence there, an unfamiliar helplessness crawling up and down her spine chillingly. It nauseates her, like the slow slimy touch of a giant slug.

At this moment, she is only exactly as she seems. Something about that just doesn't feel right.

Still, she continues forward. She's desperate at this point to turn back. The urge wells up behind her eyes like unshed tears. No part of her pays her feelings any mind. (That, at least, is not so unusual.)

Shaking, she flattens herself against the brick to her side as the building comes to an end at a corner. She takes a deep breath that serves only to make her panic worse, sucking in the scent of damp earth and bar trash and blood, thick and tangy metallic in the air. It's more blood, she's certain - despite the ease with which she recognizes the smell - than she has ever encountered before.

The rough brick of the wall scratches against her cheek. She tightens her grip again on her pocket knife, regardless of her lack of faith in it. She raises her camera with her other hand, pointed toward the other side of the alley, the open corner, the wet redness in the dirt oozing closer to her…

It's still dark, but the darkness is impenetrable. It doesn't matter that Eddie can't see; there are no true surroundings here, no details to parse, nothing more to know than the existence of herself. There is only the weakness of her body, the numbing pain in her wrists, her cold sweat, the chill of the tile flooring against her back through the sheer fabric of her dress. The smell of blood remains.

Eddie raises her arms with great effort. They feel so heavy, and they shake. Her biceps feel the burn of the exertion within seconds, but she doesn't drop her hands. Working past the fatigue, she closes her hands around her own throat. It's hard to get a grip, her hands slippery and slick with warm wetness.

"Please," she begs aloud. Her voice comes out wrong, but familiar. A little higher, a little sweeter, softer, happier. The voice of a distant memory, a voice from her childhood. She wants so badly to take comfort from it. She wants so badly for things to go differently this time.

She tightens her grip.

"My baby, my sweet girl, please, let me live."

Eddie starts to cry, and it's such a fucking relief. Her tears are warm and salty when they fall over her lips. Her stomach roils with nauseous fear and guilt, but part of her has already accepted her fate. Part of her wants it. She continues to beg herself for her life, but she smiles her forgiveness all the while.

Her neck begins to bruise. Eddie feels the almost satisfying give under her hands and the crushing pain in her throat together. Still she squeezes down, her nails digging in to keep her grip, scraping away furrows of skin. Her voice is unaffected somehow, still light, still cheerful and gentle and kind. She gives herself no mercy, until finally she stops breathing and she is at last silenced.

Her body dies and goes stiff and cold, but Eddie remains aware. The stillness of her heart and her lungs fills her with a terror that grows inside her like the opening of a terrible maw. She wishes she could just give into it, let it swallow her up whole and crush her down into nothing. She's already dead, really, so why should she want so desperately to breathe? But she does, clinging to the facsimile of life she still has.

There is movement in the deep darkness. She sees it from the corner of her eye, but she can't turn to look closer. Dead bodies don't move. A whimper builds behind her teeth, but she doesn't have the breath to give it voice. Even if she did, she couldn't open her mouth enough to let it out. The only thing she can do is wait, and hope - that she'll be able to breathe soon, and that whatever the thing is won't make her stop again.

The thing gets close enough to see, resolving itself out of the darkness into her father. He stands over Eddie in the outfit she last saw him in. A brown tweed duster, the same style of overwear that Fred now favors, a denim shirt buttoned all the way up, thin dark brown scarf, pants and a belt and boots that match it. Apá always liked to look just so. Fuck, she misses him so much. She's glad to see him, even though she's dead and he's looking down at her like he might look at any other corpse he stumbled upon in the dark.

"Why did you do that?" he asks eventually. His tone is mild, curious, as familiar and nostalgic as the other voice that came out of her own wretched mouth as she killed herself. He sighs deeply. Eddie's crushed throat and her chest are tight and hot with the need to copy him. To breathe. "Tell me that, querida. Why would you kill your own mother?"

Eddie knows she's dreaming now. She's had this one before. She needs to wake up so that she can breathe. She needs to breathe if she wants to wake up.

If.

She could always just stay here. Maybe it would be just for a minute, but dreams always feel longer than they really are. It might even feel like forever. She could stay here with Apá. He's staring down at her with disappointment and disgust, but at least he's here.

He's wearing his dumb overthought outfit and his stubble is salted and Eddie would bet he probably smells like palo santo and fresh tobacco like he always did before. Eddie can't smell him, and she won't even if she stays, because she can't breathe. But even though her chest is painfully tight and Apá obviously hates her, she can think of worse ways to die.

More importantly, she can think of plenty worse ways to keep on living.

It doesn't matter what she wants, either way. Not in this and not in anything else either. She dies at the whim of her dreams, and she lives on the say of whatever wakes her.

Eddie wakes up.

Her eyes are closed and the darkness and her father are the only reality, and then her eyes are open and she's staring up at the plaster ceiling of her bedroom. She still can't move and she still can't breathe, but she can feel the breeze coming in from her open window tickle over her exposed face and arms. She can hear the patter of the rain. Her sheer curtains billow.

Something moves in the shadows.

Eddie stares hard into the dark, her heart racing and making her need for air even more urgent.

She sees dark hair and two dark eyes, a frown, the suggestion of broad shoulders covered in tweed.

Apá. Still glaring down at her. He mutters but Eddie can't understand what he's saying no matter how hard she strains her hearing. She tries to reach out for him, but her arms refuse to so much as twitch.

Before Eddie's tired eyes, Apá starts to melt. The lighter tones of his skin drip down onto the deep darkness of his clothing. The shadow of his hair ruins the lines of his features. The shine of his eyes in the moonlight snuffs out and his height decreases in a lopsided rush that disappears into the negative space of Eddie's unlit bedroom floor.

Eddie gasps into full wakefulness when the specter of her father is completely gone. She breathes in deep - both the air and the rush of becoming aware of her power again. The late summer air is wet and cool in her lungs; her magic feels heavy and warm like an internal weighted blanket. It would be pleasant, but Eddie can only think about Apá and how he's gone again. That hurts more than getting her throat crushed with no contest.

The nightmare is awful and familiar. It's been a recurring punishment for Eddie ever since Apá disappeared for the last time of many, nearly twelve years ago now. Eddie loses him all over again almost every night and it never hurts any less. It happens so often she might even have been able to get used to it, pain and all, if she could ever be positive he isn't really there. She can't be sure he doesn't blame her too, that he doesn't choose to leave her again and again and again.

The other parts, the sneaking around in the alley to take pictures of something dangerous and bloody… Well, that could just as easily be some random nightmare her brain decided to make up to torment her with as it could be a real premonition. They're tough to tell apart. Most of the time these days, Eddie doesn't even bother to try.

What does it matter, anyway? The nightmare she woke up to is just as real and true and any premonition, if maybe not quite as literal. And there's not a damn thing Eddie can do about either of them. There never has been, and there never will be.

When her chest has stopped heaving, and the tears she cried in her sleep have dried, Eddie rolls over towards her bedside table. Her hair falls into her face, dark brown like it's supposed to be. She pulls open the little drawer roughly and tugs out her dream journal and a pen. She ignores the crumpled pages that fall out, uncaring. There's a lamp on the table but Eddie doesn't turn in on to write, scribbling haphazardly across a page that looks like it's probably blank. She opens her hands and lets the book and pen drop to the floor when she's done, and flops onto her back.

It's supposed to help. Writing it down. Fuck knows how. But it's a habit now.

Eddie lies in bed and stares up at her ceiling. The off-white plaster looks the same now as it had minutes ago when Eddie woke up paralyzed and could only see the rest of her room by straining her peripheral vision. It's gray in the silvery moonlight. The ghostly shadows of her curtains dance across her blanket covered legs when the wind gusts them around.

Eddie holds her breath for as long as she can. Nothing steps forward out of the dim.

The fatigue and painful tightness in the chest when suffocating feels a little bit like a heart attack, Eddie muses idly. Once a client's husband had one while they were working his case. The case had only been to find the guy's long lost auntie or something, completely unrelated to his husband. But Eddie had the privilege to die with him anyway.

The bruising of her throat, her windpipe getting crushed, that could be likened to being hanged. Someone that used to go to the bar across the street had done themselves in that way once. They hadn't been working a case for them, hadn't been introduced as far as Eddie remembers, might not have even ever seen each other in passing. But still, Eddie got to die with them.

The light in the room changes slowly as the night and its storm both come to end and the sun begins the arduous process of rising. The early morning sounds of the city come in through the window with the summer breeze now. The chirping of the early birds is loud and sharp, each tweet stabbing into Eddie's ears like an ice pick. She grits her teeth and rolls away from the window, thinking hard about how badly she wants them to shut up. Maybe if she can just be annoyed enough everything will stop.

There's a prickle on the back of her neck, the feeling of being watched. She ignores it. It could be a holdover from the dream. Or maybe she has a stalker. Who gives a shit.

Soon enough, Fred gets up. Eddie listens to xem going through xyr morning routine from underneath her slightly musty pillow, held tight over her ear. She needs to do laundry soon. She needed to do laundry a week ago.

Fred sings in the shower. Eddie's throat goes tight again, her eyes hot, but no more tears come out. She can't cry when she's awake. Her grief is reserved for strangers.

She's so fucking proud and grateful that Fred can be happy. She's also wretchedly jealous. Resentful. She can't help but want that for herself, and she hates Fred every now and then for having it when she can't. She makes herself sick.

The drawers open and close in Fred's room down the hall as xe gets dressed. The creaky floorboard in the hall whines as Fred passes Eddie's room to go make breakfast for both of them. In short order, the smells of coffee and breakfast sausage join the smoke of Fred's first cigarette of the day.

Get out of bed now , Eddie tells herself. She doesn't move. Her body is so heavy and distant. It feels just as beyond her control now as it does during any premonition or nightmare, except that right now there's no reason for it. She should be able to just get the fuck out of bed . She scolds herself that Fred will want her to get out of bed on her own like a goddamn grown up for once.

Then again, Fred would probably have a better morning if xe didn't have to deal with Eddie at all, in bed or out of it.

Get out of bed , Eddie thinks, fiercer and more frustrated with every repetition. Get up. Get the fuck up. Get up. But she never manages to move.

"Eddie?" Fred asks softly from the doorway. Eddie hadn't noticed her door open, too busy trying to get herself to function. "Are you awake yet, cariño?"

Eddie wants to answer because Fred deserves to be treated nicely, but she also wants Fred to just leave her alone. She ends up splitting the difference and just grunting at xem. Fred sighs deeply, and Eddie seethes. She's not sure if she's angry at Fred or at herself. Probably both.

"C'mon, hermanita," Fred says, xyr voice growing closer as xe comes inside the room. The closer xe comes the tighter Eddie's shoulders coil, until the tension starts to hurt her neck. She dreads Fred reaching her bed without her moving and then having to tell Fred she won't get up today. Either Fred will accept that with a disappointed sight and leave her here, or xe'll insist Eddie get up. Both are equally as terrible as each other.

Eddie continues to demand of herself to get up , to fucking move , frantically now, inside her head. Still nothing happens. Fred's weight settles on the bed at Eddie's side and xyr hand cups her shoulder. Xyr touch is gentle and warm and could easily be comforting, if Eddie wasn't so fucked up that she can only feel one thing - or nothing at all or, sometimes, on bad days, some inexplicable twisted combination of the two.

"Come on, Eddie, get up," Fred says, shaking her gently. Eddie grits her teeth. If a simple urging could do it, Eddie would have been up hours ago. It's not that easy. There's no reason it should be any harder, but still it's just not that easy. She wants to shrug her sibling's grip off, but she can't even do that. She just lies still in her unwashed sheets and bears it.

"Okay," Fred sighs, and Eddie's dread builds. Now is the moment. Either Fred will leave her here all day and continue on living life without her, or xe will make her get up and she'll be forced to listlessly go through the motions of the minimum eight to ten hours before she can come back here to her stale and lonely room.

Apparently, today it's going to be the latter option. Fred tugs the pillow out of Eddie's clinging hands. Xe ignores Eddie's childish whine. Xe tosses the thing down to the foot of the bed so that Eddie would have to sit up to get it back, if she wants it badly enough. Then xe goes back to Eddie's shoulder, xyr touch much less gentle now, not intended for comfort at all. Fred pulls Eddie over onto her back, and then when she doesn't move from there except to turn her face away from xem, xe stands and looks down at her with xyr hands on xyr hips.

Eddie knows Fred probably isn't judging her, or at least not in the way she fears, but since she's not looking at xyr face she can't know for sure. She's too much of a coward to take the risk and double check.

Eddie listens as Fred moves around her bed. Xyr tread is as light as always on the hardwood floors, but the buckles on xyr boots jingle flatly with each step. Fred is like some kind of punk rock souvenir bell. Ting-ting -socialism is cool- ting .

Fred's hand circles around one of Eddie's ankles.

"You know I'll do it, Ed," xe says, and xe's not lying. Fred definitely will drag Eddie bodily out of this bed, and Eddie knows it from extensive past experience. Some days a little tussle between siblings in the morning gets the blood pumping and the rest of the requisite eight to ten hours end up with buttery yellow stripes of happiness coming in like sunlight through the broken drawn blinds of Eddie's faulty brain. Some days it's just another layer of shit on top of the festering pile that Eddie is already buried under.

Eddie tries to convince herself one more time to save them both the humiliation and frustration and just get up on her own. She can even feel the potential energy build up in her extremities; she's right on the cusp of moving, maybe, any second now. But the energy only continues to build up until Eddie feels like she's vibrating with it and her half-desperate half-hateful thoughts go buzzing around her head like angry flies.

"Okay," Fred repeats, xyr voice soft and sad. Then xe pulls.

It takes long unhappy moments to get Eddie upright. Fred does most of the work. In the case of standing on your own two feet, it's not the thought that counts at all. Fred is breathing a little heavily and xyr hair is messed up by the time Eddie is upright and standing on her own power.

Eddie mostly just wants to go right back to bed, or to melt into the floor like Apá did - or her dream of him, but who can tell the difference. The thought triggers a surge of guilt, and it compounds with the shame, making Eddie feel heavier and weaker and heavier and weaker.

Turns out she was right. Fred would have absolutely had a much better morning if not for Eddie.

"C'mon, I made breakfast," Fred tells her as xe turns to leave the room. They both know Eddie already knows that, from hearing and smelling it and from the routine. Fred always breakfast or else nobody will and the two of them will have to subsist on cigarettes and booze, respectively. Fred likes to take care of xyr body, aside from xyr one vice, and so xe makes breakfast. Xe makes enough for Eddie every time out of the goodness of xyr heart.

Eddie vacillates sluggishly between the call of food and coffee and the warmth of her bed before finally following her sibling into the kitchen. She'd love to collapse onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar, but they're too high and she's too short, so instead she has to boost herself up with a foot on the rung between the legs. It's more effort than it should be, but she does like that she can swing her feet like a kid once she's up there.

Fred has already eaten, xyr lone dish already rinsed and sitting in the sink. Xe stands between the back counter and the bar, facing Eddie as she serves herself some eggs on autopilot. They're probably cold by now, and eggs aren't her favorite thing to begin with, but she puts some into her mouth with her fingers anyway. She chews perfunctorily and swallows it down. For a moment she has the uncharitable urge to open her mouth and make a show of proving to Fred that she ate it.

Unaware of Eddie's boorish attitude, Fred makes a face at her table manners. Xe fishes a fork out of the drawer and slides it across the bar to rest at Eddie's elbow. Eddie leaves it where it is and pointedly licks grease off of her fingers. She'll live, fine, but she's not going to be polite about it. Fred sighs through xyr nose, on part exasperated and one part amused. Eddie will take one part over none.

"Jay's case won't be too difficult," Fred says. Xe slips a cigarette out of xyr shiny case and lights it up with xyr zippo lighter. Eddie picks at her food in silence, waiting for the dark and spicy scent of clove smoke to reach her across the breakfast bar. It's the same scent that used to cling to Apá's coat. Same brand and all.

Fred flips the zippo open and closed as xe takes a long, long drag. That particular lighter was a gift from Apá the last time they saw him. Fred likes to say it was for xyr nineteenth birthday, because that was the closest occasion. Eddie closes her eyes and breathes in the smell, remembering.

"Yet another stolen heirloom," Eddie mutters over her cold eggs, referring to the case in question. Jay was here last night. Eddie knows she probably made a shit first impression, though she doesn't remember it clearly. It was past dinnertime and she was well on her way to hosed in preparation for bed. "Riveting stuff. Real important."

Fred takes another long, long drag before speaking, visibly gathering xyr patience. Eddie wonders when that resource will finally run out.

"The diamond isn't just an heirloom, Eddie," xe says once xe has taken the cigarette out from between xyr lips, leaning over the breakfast bar to emphasize xemself. "It's part of an active spell. If some blockhead secular swiped it looking for a payday it could be dangerous."

Eddie doesn't answer. She knows the diamond they've been hired to track down came out of a blessing box passed down to Jay by a great great great grandmother, and that it'll have the family's magic all over it. It could react badly to being separated from the other components of the spell.

She also knows that they're Jay's last resort. Jay didn't say so, but Eddie doesn't need to hear it said to know it. Jay isn't a Clairvoyant, like the two of them are, so there's no way they were a first or second, third, or fourth choice. Eddie doesn't begrudge people their hesitance though. She'd avoid her too, if she could.

"Look, hermanita," Fred says, mostly sympathetic this time, though Eddie doesn't doubt it's at least half put-on. "We've got that little diamond Scrying ball now. I can probably just use like to find like, and you won't need to use your gift at all for this one."

Eddie laughs, bitter and sharp. It stings in her throat, like whisky coming back up.

"You and I both know Seeing isn't a gift," she counters, her mouth twisted up into a painfully wry approximation of a smile. Her dreams from the night well up behind her eyes like her mind is a backed up garbage disposal. Whoever that blonde was is probably dead by now, and all Eddie feels about it is one part gladness that she wasn't there long enough to know and one part resentment over how she has nothing to do with anything in Eddie's life and Eddie still had to feel her terror anyway. "And I don't use it. It uses me. Whether anyone needs it to or not."

Fred just sucks down the rest of xyr cigarette, looking like xe might cry when Eddie pushes aside the rest of the cold eggs and pours herself a glass of red wine instead.

It could be worse, Eddie reasons to herself as she takes a generous gulp. At least this is made of fruit.

Eddie finishes her 'breakfast' at a leisurely pace while Fred lights up another clove. Xe is always getting onto Eddie for her drinking, as if xyr vice isn't just as bad for xem. But Eddie supposes that's what older siblings are for, if you don't have parents to do the job. After the wine is gone and the last wisps of smoke are lingering near the ceiling, it's time to get to work.

The office is just next door. There are two doors out front, one to the office and one to their home, as well as one between the two inside. The door windows are frosted and tinted slightly purple, the color of Clairvoyance. At least they get to be pretty. Both office doors have the business stuck on with vinyl in the window in a compressed serif font. Watchtower Private Investigations, named so after the height of the building, unusual for the street. The hinges and the wood floor both whine in complaint at Eddie's rough treatment of them as she makes her way inside before Fred.

The office is a hodgepodge of the usual administrative office stuff and the more esoteric detritus of witchcraft. The desk is covered with meticulously labeled manila folders, though some of them have been crumpled or strewn across the floor due to Eddie's flawed dismount last night. The bookshelves are filled half with shiny paperbacks on business, finance, and law, and half with yellowed old tomes on dream-working and potion-making. There's an altar set up on cloth on top of the filing cabinet.

Eddie crosses the space, avoiding looking at the files she ruined so diligently that she steps on a few. The windows at the back of the room are still cracked open. The air in here is perpetually hazy from the smoke of Fred's cigarettes and all the incense they burn. Fragrant dust swirls around in the sunbeams from the tobacco stained glass. It's probably beautiful, in its way.

Eddie yanks the curtains closed, blocking out the light. Her head hurts enough already, and she forgot her sunglasses downstairs and across the hall.

Fred sighs through xyr nose at Eddie's heelish behavior, clicking xyr tongue in disapproval at the files on the floor. Xe visibly debates stooping to pick them up, before sighing one more time and turning away from the whole sorry scene. Xyr shoulders are strong, nearly as broad as Apá's, but they droop under xyr neatly pressed seafoam green jacket. Xe sighs so much, Eddie thinks, because she makes it harder for xem to breathe than even all that tar can manage.

While Fred's back is turned, Eddie picks up the files. She does her best to smooth out the ones her ass tore up last night, and the ones she stepped on just now. She doesn't have much luck, but then again she never really does. Except maybe with the ladies.

The wingback chair at Apá's desk is ratty and faded, but still imposing. It's one of Eddie's few joys in life to sit in it and feel it at her back, making her a little bit bigger in her britches. If she wore britches. Whatever the hell britches are. It used to be a deep, velvety blood red, but that was before Eddie was even born. Now, it's a patchy burnt orange with blooms of light mauve where the friction is highest and the pile has worn down to pale threads. The thing is sturdy, though. Sturdier than the fucking floor, apparently, since unlike the floor it doesn't creak a bit when Eddie drops herself into like ice into a glass.

The top drawer on the left has a bottle of Jack in it. Eddie's fingers alight on the drawer's handle, dancing along to the tune the whisky sings from inside. The tinkle of piano keys, of ice in a lowball, promising to bounce anything and everything else at the door. Or at least to charge it a few details to get in.

"Don't," Fred murmurs, across the room and with xyr back still turned. "At least help me with this spell first before you start."

Eddie leaves her hand on the drawer, ornery. I've already started , she thinks of saying. Or maybe, You're not my parent . But she's been childish enough for the first few hours of the day. She curls her hand into a fist, and then she tucks it under her knee.

Fred eventually joins Eddie at Apá's desk, xyr arms full with the paraphernalia of xyr intentions. A small crystal ball, a stand for it, the Scrying board, a cup full of colored chalk, a box of incense cones, and a ceramic tray to burn them on. Eddie clears the center of the desk for xem, files on either side. One of those is probably Jay's. No doubt she'll have to dig it out in a minute.

Fred sets up the Scrying altar in the center of the desk to xyr specifications. Fred's power and process is as much a mystery to Eddie as Eddie's is to Fred. Not that Eddie really has much of a process to understand.

"Like to like," Fred explains idly as xe marks symbols onto the wood of the Scrying board with the chalk. Xe came up with the symbols xemself, sigils to make the ordeal of connecting to the crystals easier, and to help xem actually do what they intend. Even with the help, often Fred still ends up connecting to something that doesn't help them. Xe has near-equal chances here to find Jay's diamond as to end up spiritually trapped in a Shane Company warehouse.

Fred's own diamond is modest, as far as crystal balls go. Just barely big enough to fill the palm of Fred's hand, smoothed into a perfect sphere but otherwise uncut. It glitters with yellow-golden flecks and black impurities, but besides those it's clearer and more reflective inside than quartz is.

Eddie lights the frankincense while Fred sets the ball into its stand. The earthy, spicy-sweet scent surrounds them quickly. Elecampane would be better for this, but it's rare and expensive and often faked. Its only use is for Clairvoyance, after all. Anyone seeking it out is probably better off with the dud. Frankincense is a good enough substitute, magically speaking. And it even smells similar, too.

Fred shoos Eddie out of the wingback chair when the set up is done, and Eddie reluctantly cedes it to xem. Xe contorts xemself into a cross-legged position in it, and then stares into xyr diamond ball intently.

To Eddie, nothing seems to happen. Not outside of Fred, anyway.

It's always a little bit scary to see Fred scry. Xe seems to disappear entirely from xemself, leaving xyr empty body behind. Xyr pupils dilate like xe've done a line. Xyr irises take on an oily purplish sheen, the something else that is controlling the operation showing through. The incense smoke curls around xem like a pet snake, overeager for affection - or for a meal.

Out loud, Fred intones, "West. Dark. Familiar."

Fred's voice is low and quiet, with an inflection that makes xem sound inhuman, but other than that it's as familiar as always. It reminds Eddie of both of their parents; the steadiness of their father, the sweetness of their mother, and the underlying croak they all have from smoking like chimneys.

Eddie writes down the insight, and then the only thing she can do is wait for the crystals to release Fred back into the living world. She leaves Fred at Apá's desk to go collect an Ensure from the minifridge, as well as the communal emergency office back and zippo. It's less because Fred will need these things in a hurry so Eddie had better have them ready, and more so that she can spend less time looking at Fred's blank, reflective eyes and the lack of a person behind them.

That's Eddie's big sibling, her protector, the person who practically raised her, and her only friend, crowded out of xyr own body and replaced with an unfeeling object. Fred is one of the lucky ones, the luckiest in the Alfaro family. Scrying is the least horrible form of Clairvoyance, and one of the safest. It's almost certain that Fred will be able to settle back into xemself with only a few tiny diamond stones to pass at worst. But the risk is never zero.

Crystals grow, after all. Some of them faster than others.

This time, as all the times before, Fred resurfaces. Xyr eyes melt into their natural dark brown and xe blinks back to awareness. Eddie lets out the breath she was holding and collapses into the wooden chair on the other side of the desk that they have for clients. She leans over the desk to offer Fred the Ensure, and then sets it down within xyr reach when Fred seems to be still too out of it to take it from her. Eddie lights a cigarette for xem next. She takes the first drag for herself.

Her hands are shaking. This shit is almost more frightening than it already would be because Fred never seems scared at all. Like it's nothing to xem if xe comes back to her or doesn't.

The scent of burning tobacco revives Fred the rest of the way. Xe gestures greedily for the cigarette first, and Eddie readily hands it over. Only after several fortifying puffs does Fred crack the seal on the Ensure. Xe takes carefully paced, delicate little sips, though Eddie knows xe'd rather gulp it down. The two of them learned that lesson the hard way when they first started this business out - with Fred on xyr knees in the bathroom and Eddie holding xyr long hair back.

Finally, Fred takes a deep breath and asks hoarsely, "Did I find it? Felt like I found it."

"Seems like you did, yeah," Eddie confirms. She slips a second cigarette out of the emergency pack and lights it for herself. She doesn't usually prefer cloves, but she needs to settle her nerves. "You said something about West? Here, I wrote it down."

Fred waves away the notepad Eddie holds out, instead beginning to ruffle sluggishly through the files on the desk. There are dozens. They don't exactly have an organizational system in here, and it's been a full decade now of accumulating them. They get pretty decent work, considering. Eddie hadn't really thought it would work, when they'd started. It had all been Fred's idea, hairbrained, and Eddie had just gone along with it because she couldn't think of anything better.

"Aha!" Fred exclaims when xe finds Jay's file, becoming more and more like xyr lively self the longer xe goes about with xyr head clear of stones. The file isn't one of the ones Eddie ruined last night, though it does have what looks like a coffee ring on one corner. That could have been either of them.

"I assume you don't remember any of what Jay said when they were here," Fred mutters as xe flips over their standard intake sheet to get to the handwritten details underneath. Eddie's stomach clenches. She wishes she could argue.

"I didn't know they were coming," she defends herself weakly.

"No," Fred agrees softly. "I know. I'm sorry." Silently, and without looking at her, xe hands Eddie the intake sheet for her to look over.

Eddie does remember most of this information; Jay's name, the date they took the case, a description of the missing diamond, bare-bones estimated timeline of the theft, how much they're charging. She stares down at the page unseeingly anyway and lets Fred hog the more interesting details. It's not really Eddie's job to come up with suspects anyway - at least not when she hasn't Seen them. She just follows whoever Fred tells her to.

"I'm thinking the niece's boyfriend," Fred says eventually, breaking a silence between them that isn't exactly uncomfortable. Eddie makes a vague noise of agreement. She doesn't remember anything about the niece's boyfriend. Fred highlights something in xyr notes, and then passes them across the desk to Eddie.

Turns out he's a college student who has been dating Jay's niece - who lives with Jay over the summers - for the last three months since the spring semester ended. A secular too, just like Fred had posited at breakfast, who likely would have no idea that the diamond in question is more than just a very expensive rock. He lives to the west from here, and from the diamond's home, in Little Italy.

"Yeah, I like him for it," Eddie agrees around the filter. "Surveillance beat?"

"Ugh," Fred groans, but xe nods. "No job right?" Eddie nods. According to the background they have, the only thing Boyfriend does all week is visit Jay's niece and effusively compliment Jay's cooking.

"A daytime stakeout," Eddie says, in unison with Fred. The siblings smile at each other briefly. They've always had something of a penchant for being on the same wavelength like that. Apá's absence, Eddie's drinking and pessimism, and Fred's apparent ability to just move on from anything may all be doing their damndest to push Fred and Eddie apart, and maybe some days it seems like they'll get their way. But sometimes, they're still the same as they were as kids. Jinxing each other, practically reading each other's minds.

"That's tomorrow," Fred says. Xe turns xyr attention back to Jay's file, shuffling the pages to xyr liking before reaching for a drawer. Eddie tenses. Fred already knows the booze is there, as evidenced from xyr admonishment earlier, but knowing that doesn't stop Eddie from feeling like she'll get in trouble if Fred sees it there.

Luckily, Fred doesn't go for that drawer. The legal pad xe needs is in the drawer above that, and xyr favorite clicky pen is in the top drawer on the other side. When xe has what xe needs, xe starts writing up the mid-investigation report for Jay. Xe delicately picks out straight, even capitals that nearly look typed, remarkably quickly for how neat they are.

Eddie leaves xem to it. She's not great with the customer-facing end of things. A little too negative, a little too blunt, acerbic. A little too to-the-point as well. Their clients want to think every case is complicated. They want to be reassured and validated in addition to having their mysteries solved. Eddie would just as soon write one sentence and be done with it, and then they'd probably lose the case because it wouldn't look like enough work to pay them for.

Eddie much prefers doing the books. She likes numbers because you don't have to interpret them. There's no nicer way to put them. They mean what they mean.

When the report is written, and the budget is calculated, the siblings make up a surveillance itinerary for tomorrow. They'll start early in the morning to make sure they don't miss him if he does go out, and take set shifts to piss or pick up food. They're already familiar with the area, so they don't have to get to know the streets and landmarks in person this time. The nearest convenience store is marked out on Fred's roughly sketched map, the best exit routes highlighted.

Jay's case is the only one Watchtower Investigations has open at the moment, so here is where the siblings separate. For Fred, the workday is done. Xe leaves the building out the front. Xe has enough friends and acquaintances that xe can meet up with someone any time.

Eddie could call it quits too, if she wanted, and she's doing so in all but name. Her mood has improved enough since the morning that she doesn't immediately want to go back to bed and pretend to never have been born, so instead she pilfers one of Fred's post-Scrying Ensures from the minifridge to serve as her lunch. Then she contorts herself into a catlike curled up position in the wingback chair. She opens the middle drawer but instead of the bottle of Jack, she pulls a battered romance novel out from underneath it.

The air from outside the still open window behind her smells green and fresh after last night's rain. There is no breeze, there never is in the summers, but the storm cooled it down enough for the humidity trapped amid the crowded city buildings to not feel so oppressive.

Afternoon sunshine drips sluggishly over Eddie's shoulder like honey, spilling gold over the book as Eddie finds her place by the page number she memorized last time she put it down. It's from Mrs. Zilbersetein, a secular from two houses down, given as part of her payment to them for the pictures of her ex-husband and his mistress that she used in her divorce. The pages are soft and thin from wear, showing how much she'd loved the book before Eddie. The cover is illustrated with a voluptuous blonde ingenue in a red dress and an imposing man with a fedora and a handgun.

Eddie makes it through two chapters and one sex scene before there's a knock at the outer door.

Eddie considers not answering; Jay is paying them well so they don't need to cram in as much work as they can at the moment. But curiosity gets the best of her, despite her general distaste for the kind of work Watchtower usually ends up doing. So, she leaves her steamy book open and upside down in the seat of the wingback and goes to see who's there.

When she swings the door open, Eddie comes face to face with an impressive set of cleavage clad in what could easily be the very same red dress from the illustrated cover she'd just put down. She stares for a moment, briefly mesmerized by the shiny liquid-like fabric draped artfully over smooth dark skin, before blinking herself back to reality and relegating her gaze up to the woman's face.

Her features are just as elegant and striking as her attire. She has a heart shaped face, near-black dark brown eyes, and loosely curled cherry red hair. Her lip color matches her dress and her hair, and her skin glows in the slowly reddening sunlight. Beyond the sight of two eyes, she looks to be secular. The concurrence of exceptionalism and mundanity is dissonant to the third. If Eddie keeps looking so closely, her headache will come back with a vengeance.

"Uh," says Eddie eloquently. "I, uh. I think you have the wrong place. Ma'am."

The woman - the lady, really; the way she's dressed surely she can't be called anything else - doesn't smile, but Eddie thinks she catches a dimple crease her cheek on one side before it's gone again.

"Watchtower Investigations? Miss Alfaro, I presume," she asks. Her voice sounds like one that could be heard at a vintage speakeasy, crooning sad slow jazz tunes to an audience of pipe smoking men in pinstripe suits.

"Yes- Sorry," Eddie says. She steps aside and holds the door for the lady like a gentleman, feeling very nearly as out of touch with herself as she ever has during a premonition. Her body takes her through the steps of this interaction as it should be, without pausing for her to think about it first.

"Don't worry yourself, doll," says the Lady in Red. "I'm overdressed, I know. I usually am." She adjusts the sheer, glittering shawl fathered at her elbows and steps past Eddie into the house. She smells, somewhat unexpectedly, like leather.

Eddie leads the Lady in Red up to the office, holding open the door with the frosted window for her too. She has the half-hysterical urge to pull out her chair as well, but there's no table to pull it from. She sits in the wooden chair in front of the desk and crosses her long legs, a high slit in her dress parting around her thigh. Eddie takes the wingback, stuffing the romance book uncomfortably between her ass and the back rather than reveal it.

"What can I- What can we do for you, Miss…?" Eddie asks leadingly. The Lady's dimple comes back, and this time it stays. Eddie tries to to feel too proud of herself, just for a little politeness. True it's not a skill of hers, and she usually doesn't even bother to try, but still.

"Miz," the Lady corrects smoothly. "Jessica. And I want you to solve a murder."

Eddie's breath catches in her throat and she swallows it down with difficulty, conflicted. The cases they usually take are… not thrilling, to say the least. But murder is maybe a bit too thrilling. Especially when taking into account that Watchtower has only ever dealt with background checks, theft, spell sourcing, and infidelity. They've never even handled a missing person.

"That's not really in our wheelhouse," Eddie admits, as gently as she can. "The police really would b-"

"Oh, I've already tried the pigs," Ms. Jessica interrupts. The disdain in her voice is palpable. Eddie can't blame her. After all, Jessica is visibly not a person cops traditionally 'protect and serve'. Eddie herself isn't one of those either. They usually take murder pretty seriously in most cases though - provided that it's not one of their own murders, and that there's someone left behind who cares enough to report it in the first place.

"I know it can seem like it's taking a long time," Eddie tries again. Jessica's foot twitches irritably, the champagne colored pump on it catching the now purplish light of the approaching dusk in the window behind Eddie.

"No," says Jessica, simple and firm, and Eddie shuts up. "They told me they're not investigating. They don't believe me."

If Eddie's interest wasn't piqued before, it certainly is now. She turns aside her reservations regarding Watchtower's qualifications - or lack thereof - and leans forward over Apá's desk to listen more intently.

"There's no body?" Jessica shakes her head. Her foot stops kicking; she must be relieved to truly have Eddie's attention. It seems likely now that, like everyone else who comes, she's here as a last resort.

"I don't think there could have been much of one left, to be honest with you," she says. Her voice is lower now, a little scratched up, but she doesn't waver. "There was a lot of-" She chokes, and for the first time looks away from Eddie. Her gaze seems to catch on the altar on top of the filing cabinet and Eddie wonders if she'll latch on to the easy subject change it might offer.

Watchtower gets very few secular clients. They're in the phone book, sure, but their business comes almost entirely from word of mouth, and witches and seculars don't tend to cross paths more than incidentally. Eddie has to wonder if that altar is something Jessica was expecting to see. Does she know what they are, or is she even now assuming they're some kind of new age hippies?

In the end, Jessica doesn't take the out, though she doesn't finish what she was going to say either. She concludes definitively, "She's dead. I know she's dead."

Jessica's eyes meet Eddie's across Apá's desk, and instantly Eddie knows Jessica has to be right. In the depths of her brown eyes, Eddie recognizes the same feeling she had when she knew Apá wouldn't be coming back this time. It's the same feeling clients have in their eyes when they already know their spouse is cheating on them, or that their trusted friend has robbed them. Intuition, maybe. Or the brief, terrible omniscience that comes from grief.

Sometimes Fred and Eddie's job is not so much to find out what happened, but why .

"I know this isn't what you usually do," Jessica adds eventually. "But my- Maddie. Maddie Ward. She deserves at least some kind of justice. I had to try. Will you consider it?"

Eddie shouldn't. She shouldn't full stop, but she especially shouldn't decide to take a client without Fred's input.

"Of course," she says.

Eddie forgot to grab a fresh intake sheet from the filing cabinet on her way to the desk when she first let Jessica in (along with the travel pack of tissues Fred always offers to a new client), but she's not willing to backtrack across the room and look foolish or bumbling in front of this elegant lady. Not to mention if she gets up there's a chance the book she's all but sitting on will be exposed. In lieu of that, Eddie drags over the nearest casefile, flips it open, and poises herself to write on the back of the topmost paper, whatever it is.

"You got a last name, Ms. Jessica?" she prompts, looking intently at her own hand wrapped around Fred's favorite fountain pen. Her name, her number. These are professional necessities. Eddie has no ulterior motives, no need for Jessica's information beyond the purposes of solving her case. More to the point, Jessica is out of Eddie's league - and probably playing a different game altogether anyway.

Jessica gathers herself, mentally and physically, and rises gracefully from the very ungraceful chair she's been occupying these last long moments of the day. Her shadow casts itself around the room in fractals not unlike any of Fred's crystals, or like the ambiguous movement of something unknown beneath rippling water. She sees herself to the door while Eddie is still mesmerized.

"Let's see if you can find that out yourself," she challenges over her bare shoulder. "Consider it an interview." Her enigmatic smile seems to imply that the interview could be for the job, or maybe for something a little more personal if Eddie performs well enough.

"Call me when you find me," Jessica says as she slips out the door. Her silhouette pauses behind the frosted window, flutters its long fingers in a coy little wave, and then fades away with the hollow clip of high heels on hardwood.

I will accept constructive criticism on this chapter from mutuals. More in this Universe: Cat's Eye View | Feline Retribution | Beer, Brandy, Belladonna

Taglist: @girlfriendsofthegalaxy @haectemporasunt @jezifster @blackhannetandco @fearofahumanplanet @littlehastyhoneydew @rainbowabomination @antihell @isherwoodj @marrowwife @ashen-crest @wildswrites @ceph-the-ghost-writer @garthcelyn @muddshadow @cohldhands @unrealistic-android @glam-pir @outpost51 @mrbexwrites @vacantgodling @blind-the-winds

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[goldxnfemme]

I'll end it all by saying, if you like and wanna watch Barbie, fucking go, have a blast, enjoy about two hours of ignorance is bliss, suspension of disbelief or whatever, and then you can come out of it and keep the fight going. It won't blow your mind or change your world but if you had fun, that's good enough, not everything has to be world changing

most people I've seen enjoying it, in my circles anyway, are lgbtq+ people who are fully aware of the things that aren't there, it's all good to have a little fun every now and then in the ocean of ads we call existence

to the rest of y'all, go spend some of your time demonizing Oppenheimer too, idk

also not to be that femme, but if you wanna criticise somebody and find an enemy, I'll give you a hint, it's not the regular viewer that has no power over how the movie goes

[digitalstardust]

"Wildest Dreams" TFP Soundwave x gn!reader [Part 1]

My second Soundwave fic, I love the boi so much >3

Notes: Angst, A lot of angst, Sort of ooc Soundwave? But it isn't specified what he was like before the war sooo... Sad ending?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lovers, you thought. That's what the both of you were.

Enemies. That's what both of you are now.

Loyal warriors belonging to two opposing factions, two lovers that once belonged to each other.

Once upon a time, the two of you were inseparable.

Inseparable.

The love you two had for each other was greater than the distance between Cybertron and Earth, and none of you thought that anything could pull the both of you apart.

"He said, 'Let's get out of this town,'"

You laughed as he took your servo and ran as the two of you weaved through the edge of Kaon, two young lovers hand in hand.

"Drive out of the city, away from the crowds"

The two of you ran and ran until you arrived at the scrap plains outside of Kaon.

"Slow down!" You joked, pretending to fall behind but keeping a steady pace.

"I know for a fact that you can run better than that," Soundwave said, continuing your run to who knows where.

"I thought Heaven can't help me now"

He then slowed down his pace, and you took it as a sign that you arrived.

You climbed over the plains and gasped at the sight in front of you.

"Nothing lasts forever"

It was, simply put, breathtaking. The glow of the moon leaked through the gaps in the buildings between Iacon and Kaon, and the lights of the city merged perfectly with the night sky.

He grinned. "Beautiful, right?"

"Yeah," You muttered, still recovering from so much beauty.

"Hm. Not as much as you, though..." He jokingly mused, pretending to stroke his non-existent beard.

"But this is gonna take me down"

The both of you sat there and enjoyed the view and the other's company for the entire night, but little did you know, the time that you two had in each other's arms was up.

"He's so tall, and handsome as hell"

You still remember the time that he had professed his love for you, and how you had accepted. After all, how couldn't you?

The cheers echoed through the stadium.

Today was Soundwave's match with Megatron, not to see who dies, but to see who drew energon on their opponent first.

Megatron was strong when it comes to strength, ten times stronger than Soundwave.

But Soundwave was agile, quick and calculating. He could calculate one's next move before they even thought to do it.

The silence was too heavy, and you thought you would offline of suspense if none of them won.

It's been a cycle now and shockingly, Soundwave looked like it's only been 10 kliks.

"He's so bad, but he does it so well"

Megatron, on the other servo, was intent on destroying his opponent (winning, not killing) the moment the match started, and was starting to tire.

Suddenly, the stadium was dead quiet. Megatron had stopped moving. Only nano-kliks ago everybot was screaming for their gladiator to win.

Megatron slowly lifted his servo and with a digit, wiped the side of his faceplate and brought the digit up to his optics.

The silence ended the moment someone screamed. It took your processor to register the energon on Megatron's digit and what the crowd was screaming.

"And when we had, our very last kiss"

Megatron nodded as he acknowledged defeat and the emcee yelled, "WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION OF THE RING!"

You screamed in happiness. It was his dream to be champion of the ring, and you can see that he was over the moon as your optics met his.

"Now, may we have a few words from our new victor?" The emcee boomed, and the stadium fell to silence once more.

A mic was thrust at him. Over a thousand optics were watching, and you knew this was his life's proudest moment.

He beamed at everybot in the crowd.

"My last, request, is"

"Hello, everyone. I am Soundwave of Kaon." He said, his haunting voice echoing through the walls of the stadium. You were sure that you heard a couple of young femmes squeal.

"Thank you all, for being here. I love all of you, I really do."

"But I'm not a champion. In fact, I'm far from one."

"Just because I got lucky this time doesn't mean I'm the best. So no, I won't accept the title of Champion. It rightly belongs to Megatron of Kaon."

"Say you'll remember me,"

"He has far more experience than I have, and he'll always have more experience because I am still young."

"So, please, Megatron is still the strongest in the ring. I am merely somebot that got lucky."

"So thank you, all of you. I appreciate it. I truly do. But it's time for the true champion to have his crown." And with that, he left the arena.

"Standing in a nice dress"

The moment he left, he was attacked with a hug by none other than yourself.

"I'm so proud of you, Soundwave! You finally achieved your dream!" You exclaimed, still not letting him go.

"Staring at the sunset, babe"

"In a way, I guess so," He grinned, hugging you back.

"But why did you give up the title?" You asked, puzzled. After all, who would give up their dream after achieving it?

"Because, Y/N," He murmured, stroking your faceplate with a digit. "I've found my dream. A new one."

You felt your faceplates burn up at the close proximity between the two of you.

"Red lips and rosy cheeks"

"I found you, Y/N. My new dream. You are the first I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I fall into recharge.

"Every nano-klik spent without you is torture and every moment I spend with you is bliss.

"So please, Y/N, give me a chance to win my dream, and your spark," Soundwave whispered, his audio sending shivers down your backstrut.

"I'm yours," You smiled, "I always was and I always will be."

"Say you'll see me again"

The kiss that the two of you shared blossomed into a small flower of love, which would continue to grow into a tree and bloom into a forest.

Unfortunately, the fire that will tear your forest down was arriving, and it was arriving fast.

"Even if it's just in your wildest dreams"

"Y/N." Soundwave said, breaking the silence between the two of you.

The two of you were sitting at Macaddams, a café not too far from your shared home.

The Decepticons, a faction led by the strongest gladiator from Kaon, Megatron, had started to rise in power, taking cities that didn't think the same way as he and his faction.

And then there were the Autobots, those that disagreed with him and were brave enough to stand up and fight, led by the former clerk of the Iacon Archives and now Prime.

"Wildest dreams"

You looked up from the cup you had been glaring at for the past 10 kliks.

"I'm sorry. I really am. But I can't refuse this." He said, trying to catch your optic.

"Why? Why can't you?" You sniffed, trying to hold back the tears building in your optics.

"Because they'll kill you," He thought but said nothing.

"You'll see me in hindsight"

"Why can't you come to our faction?" You cried, unable to hold back the tears anymore. "Why? Or maybe I could go to yours?"

"It's too dangerous," Soundwave said.

"And it's not for you?" You said quietly, looking away. He reached over to wipe your tears but you turned away, staring at the cybertronians outside, oblivious to the oncoming war that will destroy your home.

"Tangled up with you all night"

He sighed. "Please, Y/N. Look at me. Please."

You ignored him.

"Please, my love. I'm begging you. Please look at me." He begged, his audio cracking at the end.

"Burning it down"

You turned to look at him hesitatingly. You saw tears escaping out of the corner of his eye, betraying his steady(ish) audio.

"What if- what if you die?" You sobbed, burying your faceplate in your servos. "What if you never come back?"

"Y/N. Y/N." He muttered, wiping your tears and his own. "I'll come back. I promise. I'll never get hurt. I'll never get hurt for you."

"How will I know if you're alive?"

He pondered it for a moment. "You will."

"Someday when you leave me"

"I love you, Soundwave," You whispered, optics still blurry from the tears.

"I love you too, Y/N."

"Promise me you won't die." You muttered, hugging him for one last time.

"I won't die. I promise." He promised, "We'll be together again before you know it."

Or so you thought.

"I bet these memories"

Soundwave still kept to his word, even though it felt like an eternity has passed.

You were the stealth and strategies officer of the Autobots, always looking for places where your team could hide, how they could take down the Decepticons and such.

Although you were pretty sure Soundwave had the better job.

You still heard your fellow Autobot warriors complaining how Soundwave was too strong and was practically unable to defeat.

Even though that was bad news for your cause, you couldn't help but sigh in relief every time you heard someone complain.

It was a sign that he was still alive and stronger than ever.

“Follow you around"

When Optimus Prime had to evacuate the troops and scatter them across the universe, you made sure that you were with Optimus' team, which was headed for CH-738, or Earth, according to how their organics called it.

You made sure to be in their group because you knew wherever Optimus went, Megatron followed. And wherever Megatron goes, his TIC would follow, which in this case was Soundwave if you were correct.

And you were.

"Say you remember me"

The first time the two of you were alone was on a mission. The both of you were looking for the same relic, and it was as if Primus was playing games on you, he decided to send the very con you were trying to avoid in your way.

You tried to avoid him, afraid that your feelings for him would rise and sabotage any missions you had, but apparently, Primus disapproved.

The two of you faced each other, one fighting for the right and the other for the wrong.

"Standing in a nice dress"

You felt tears well up in your eyes, and for a split nano-klik, you weren't seeing the terrifying TIC that all of your teammates warned you about, but the young mech you had fallen forever since you had met him.

It took all of your willpower to not hug him and cry in his arms, and it wasn't until that moment you realised how much time had passed.

In the end, the both of you just stood there and basked in the brief moment alone you had with each other, hoping that it wasn't the last.

"Staring at the sunset, babe"

The second time was when you were lying on a field of flowers at night, admiring how the constellations in Earth's sky were the same as the ones on Cybertron. Perhaps your worlds weren't so apart after all.

You stared up and thought of Cybertron, the life you had and the love you had. Thinking about it made you feel like you had knives stabbing at your spark, so you tried to push it away.

"Red lips, and rosy cheeks"

That was when Soundwave landed behind you.

You jumped up and prepared yourself for an attack, only to nearly hug Soundwave once again.

That night, the both of you sat in the field, counting the stars like the both of you once did when you were young.

When you weren't torn apart by war.

"Say you'll see me again"

None of you spoke, but a thousand words flowed between the both of you. Sitting in silence, the two of you shared the wordless adventures you both had.

You knew of his vow of silence. They said he took the vow to never be able to spill information to the Autobots, and you respected that.

"Even if it's just in your wildest dreams"

The final moment the two of you had together was when the Autobots stormed the Nemesis and were successful in doing so.

Unfortunately, Primus decided that the time you had together was up.

You sobbed harder than you ever had as you cradled your dying sparkmate.

"Say you'll remember me,"

"I-I'm sorry," He rasped, coughing up energon.

"Shhhh," You shushed him, cradling his helm close to yours. "Everything's going to be fine."

"Standing in a nice dress"

"I'm sorry I didn't keep my promise," He gasped, trying to breathe through the fatal wound. "I'm so sorry."

"No, you kept it," You soothed, trying to control your emotions. "The war is over, my love. And we are reunited."

"Staring at the sunset, babe."

"I'm so sorry we couldn't stay together longer." He muttered, optics threatening to close. You could see that he was trying his best to keep them open, and you loved him even more for trying.

"Don't be," You muttered. That was all you could force out.

"Red lips and rosy cheeks"

"I love you, Y/N," Soundwave rasped, "I really do. I regret everything else but you."

"Don't say that," You choked, tears spilling out of your optics. "You'll live. Trust me."

"Say you'll see me again"

"I always have," He smiled as closed his optics for the final time.

Your screams of sadness echoed through the entire ship as you cried for your lost love.

He was gone, forever.

"Even if it's just pretend"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So what do you guys think? The lyrics (in bold) aren't the entire thing, but they are still a part of the song. Part 2 coming out next week!

Here is the song:

[melodyofthevoid]

Spotify Discovery Review

So I wanted to try something new and figured I'd dive into more music thoughts, and since I've been actually listening to my Spotify Discovery (I needed new music lol) so yeah.

Overall Rating: 13/30 that I really like and even sort of like, so not bad. Probably won't be saving a ton of these for later listening, a few might go into some character playlists at least so that's good. We'll see if any grow on me. Below are some of the standouts good, bad, and indifferent. A few songs I didn't include bc they're instrumentals that I didn't really have any thoughts on. Not even neutral thoughts.

Good

Dear Alice (rainy days)

Slow and dreamlike, it's not really a surprise that there's heavy Alice in Wonderland theming but even though there's not a ton of singing, I found myself enjoying the ride.

Femme Fatale

A fantastic beat, a combination of western and tango aesthetics, a fast paced ride that makes me want to groove. Love the flirty danger that drips off of every word, it's got a solid identity and doesn't feel like it's trying too hard to be "edgy" or anything.

YOUR HEAD'S ON FIRE

Louie Zhong is always a bop and his lyrical style is always a joy. Unconventional metaphors and fun little bits, a very groovy guitar line that makes you want to wiggle.

Blink of an eye

Halfy and Winks make DSMP songs, I'm aware of this, however I love their musical style and lyrics. Gives me heavy inspiration for my own story just with how vivid and story based their stuff is. The revolutionary spark in here is nice.

Invisible Dan Avidan has popped into my feeds and I’m not really complaining? I love the rock style/retro vibe that this one has going on, his vocals really sell it. A little bit chase scene a little bit breakdown but overall a good time.

The Moon and Stars

Good folk vibes, gets close to scratching the same itch that The Crane Wives do but not quite, which is still a good time for me. We'll see if this fits a character in future.

The Manic

A great character song, will be applying to my blorbos soon. The pushing away from someone you love because you know you'll hurt them eventually and can't take it. Very good stuff.

Dance While the Sky Crashes Down

Eyyy Jason Webly, I remember you from WTNV. A tango for the end of the world and honestly isn't that a mood? I love the lyrics, although it drags a smidge at the end. Maybe because of TMA I'm a little more inclined towards this.

A song whose title is in Japanese. It's from land of the lustrous and I cannot copy paste the title.

Very eerie, very atmospheric. I haven't watched the show in its entirety myself, but I know that it has horror and suspense interwoven in some of the back half, and the clanking bells and echoes really give the sensation of being watched. Of being on edge. Good stuff.

Break Your Cranck

An altogether inexplicable piece. It’s done on a hurdy gurdy which is already a plus but. It. It sounds like electronica crafted by pirate bees. With some Indian influence thrown in for flavor. Like a space punk pirate bazaar. Very atmospheric but also so so confusing. I love it.

Dance of the blood drunk

A balance of wild carnival and orchestral splendor, feels like an epic batter on a grand scale. The unsteady thrill of never knowing if you’re winning or not.

Neutral

Absence

I kinda forgot what this sounded like tbh.

How Dare You

Pretty good? No real feelings on it.

I was an island

Again with the good lyrics, but the instrumentation and singing are on the verge of being unlistenable? Like I can listen, and I could see myself putting this on a character playlist or two for sure.

Tavern crawl

A fun little bawdy medieval style song, Annapantsu kills it as expected, but bar songs/drinking songs aren’t really my vibe? But I could see myself grooving to this generally.

Brand new city

Mitski, which is good, but some of her stuff doesn't hit me as much as it does others, and this is one of those times. Not bad by any means, just not something I can see myself going back to.

Cold, cold, cold

Has a story to it, the grandiosity is nice especially near the end but the whole song together doesn’t quite capture me in the way that other artists in this space do. I could listen to it if I was in a particular mood but otherwise it’s not a stand out.

Bitch, Bitch, Bitch

I do like the Jekyll and Hyde musical don't get me wrong but I'm not a huge fan of this one? It's mostly a song meant to establish the upper crust as mindless gossips and twits, the combination of the old Disney-musical style instrumentals and the rather vulgar (by Victorian standards) lyrics is funny but that's all its got.

Timekeeper's Heartbeat

An interesting case where I like the instrumentals and most of the lyrics but it fails to really coalesce into a song? There's bits that don't rhyme for no reason, it comes across like one of those English vocaloid covers that doesn't adjust for the context. If it is, I wouldn't be surprised.

Nah

Whiplash (Black Math) Don’t like listening to it, not much else to really say here.

Wish you were gay I’m aware this one is a bit of a darling in some of the animation meme circles but I don’t really care for the instrumentation or the lyrics. Unpleasant to listen to.

Two's a party Jazz/cabaret but there’s not really a depth to it imo. I find it a bit hard to listen to despite the singer being pretty good if a bit... too whispery. A combination of the lyrics and sudden trumpet jump scares ig.

Judas An interesting concept and premise, the dichotomy of a queer relationship contrasted with the religious imagery is layered but the vocal performance doesn’t really do it for me. Seems to want to be mountain goats but it’s a little too raw?

I DONT TRUST U ANYMORE Person with a guitar genre, valid feelings but vocal performance is a bit flat. Reminds me of blink 182 but with none of the energy.

[dotthings]

Gotham Knights 1x07 "Bad to Be Good"

Thank you to the writers, Allegre Rodriguez & Michelle Furtney-Goodman.

Loved this ep overall. Also bless this series for how it films Misha Collins. Who is himself a work of art.

Following on that theme from the past few eps, Cullen's concern about saving the painting from the black market, where it would wind up hidden from public eyes, is very community-minded of him. He also genuinely cares about the role of art. Steph also takes this up, as we're told they talked about "the importance of art." But also during their coffee and art talk, found a link to their immediate interests and needs.

Harper wonders why she or the Knights should care about works of communal value. She only gets interested when Steph tells them the paintings were all owned by Alan Wayne, which is a link to the Court of Owls. Harper needs a specific and immediate purpose link that involves self-preservation or protecting people she's close to before she cares. Cullen and Steph see a bigger picture but are also motivated by the specific interest and needs, they do both.

Carrie and Duela are a really fun chaos duo, opposites conspiring together and bickering the whole time. Carrie's judging-you-both faces at Eunice and Duela, the epic eye-rolls, Carrie regretting all her life choices, Carrie's thinking FML how did I wind up in this mess. And then Duela eye-rolling over Carrie. Comedy gold. The beginnings of that friendship was unexpected. They're demonstrating different points on the morality and ethics scale. This show has a lot of moral relativism. "Potato, tomato, little bird." Carrie was morally right, but wrong in this situation, Duela isn't ethical, but Duela's antics allowed them to save Detective Green's family.

Eunice stabbing Duela's hand with the ballerina from her music box was very hard core.

Turner seems like he's emerging as more of a leader in this ep. He's also using the bat-toys. Following his dad's legacy, but in his own way, not trying to be Batman.

I immensely enjoy how Misha plays every scene in this like the lead in a classic Hollywood noir or suspense thriller. He's got some great Jimmy Stewart, Cary Grant, Humphrey Bogart vibes going on. That shot of the cordless phone ringing, looming ridiculously large in foreground, is also vintage Hollywood, Hitchcock kind of style. Misha has the range, the gravitas, and the camera adores him. And Harvey's a whole meal of a character here (on top of being an absolute snack), one of the few decent Gotham leaders, a regular guy in over his head, wondering if he's going mad, trying to solve the mystery, plagued by his inner demons, while being a good person, but shadows over his shoulder.

Lauren Stamile does a great job playing Rebecca March. Her role here is the femme fatale of classic Hollywood. Vulnerable, sincere, yet a touch dangerous. Doesn't mean Rebecca is lying. But anyone who's watched some of those old films knows there could be some plot twists. I wonder where this arc is going to lead.

Steph tending to Harper's wound outside the warehouse and in the end scenes. Their cute flirting. The little smiles. After Harper saved Steph from mobster bullets, Steph taking care of Harper's bullet wound. Enemies to reluctant allies to sorta kinda friends to lovers? Yes please.

Cressida going to Harvey for help...might be sincere. It's looking like all of Gotham is in deadly peril, so much so that Cressida's fear for the fate of millions is overcoming her fear for herself. If the Court's bigger picture plans are a lot more dire than just controlling Gotham financially and socially. Something has scared her badly. Or it's another ploy.

That's one of the fun things about this series, there's a lot of layers, and secrets inside secrets and things not being what they seem.

[itsdappleagain]

WOOHOO! Let's kick off #csweekly!

I think I'll dump all of my thoughts onto one post as we go along...and I have a lot of thoughts so sorry this is gonna be LONG

Firstly, before I start the episode, AAA I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS!!! I haven't actually truly rewatched CS in sooo long

Okay, let's go. Why don't we ever talk about the intros? Like the grabbing of the hat and then later that as part of the black and white/red intro sequence? MWAH.

Chase's headlights illuminate spots on the screen when they turn towards the "camera!"

I love this introduction to the entire show. It really makes us feel like we're part of this mystery, investigating this thief with Chase and Julia (until...well...everything gets directly told to us via flashbacks 8 minutes in..). It tells us everything we basically need to know about how Carmen operates in like 30 seconds.

Let's take a moment to appreciate the art style of this show....oh my gosh. The lighting the texturing the lineless agh its so good

I guess I haven't thought about it for a little while, but I guess Chase slamming on the breaks is supposed to fake us out thinking that he has seen Carmen's shadow. It sets up how idiotic of a detective he is, while Julia is observant and actually makes connections. I really like this early (VERY early) setup to how their relationship is going to work. However, at the same time, the show is really gunning for us to root for Julia when she starts infodumping. Chase is clearly the asshole. I can't help but wondering, though, if the show undercuts the importance of Julia's research by IMMEDIATELY cutting away to something "more interesting" (Carmen) as soon as she starts talking. What do you think?

I like how Carmen just shoots out of the alleyway and looks at them for a solid minute. She's just like 👁️👁️ i mean we KNOW it doesn't take her that long to use her grappling hook. She was just watching them

LA FEMME ROGUE

Chase's damage of cars starts at not even 2 minutes into the entire show <3

anyway

CARMEN'S DRAMATIC CHARACTER INTRO MY BELOVED <3

ALSO another shoutout to the SCORE OH MY GOD RELEASE AN OST CS TEAM

when you think about it does player's character intro ever seem a little clumsy to you? ooh yeah its player glad to hear he's on board girl you've known him for years girl. girl. he's always on board.

i love player's robots and machines everywhere <3

YEAH SORRY. SCORE AND ANIMATION AGAIN WHEN SHE'S RUNNING ACROSS THE ROOFTOPS. FRAMED BY THE MOON? OUGH

she's so unnecessary <3 you did not have to swing that grappling hook around like a whip but im so glad you did girlie

i adore how her usb is disguised like a lipstick as if subtlety was ever her thing ever. like when on earth would someone catch her in the full red coat and fedora and then be like "oh ok well there's nothing suspicious here other than the grappling hook, hang glider, and taser so I'll let you go ok

PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR LIKE YOU REALLY DONT CARE ABOUT THIS RANDOM OTHER SIGNAL THAT COULD GET YOU KILLED

OUGH THE LIGHTING WHEN SHE'S DROPPING DOWN FROM THE CEILING

just. just move. you could have just moved out of the way

her hat bending upwards when she's listening against the fake atrium <3

i love carmen's jokes about player being a little internet cave troll do we ever get more of those?? i feel like we don't and I wish we did. their dynamic is so fun when its just the two of them, which is like. never again

sorry. gina's vocal fry when she says "job." that is all

the elevator gag is actually so funny

imagine not taking the stairs 5-9 at a time. chase doesn't skip leg day smh

i love the feeling of suspense this safe cracking gives us paired with chase running up to arrest her. its fun because she gets to show off and have a lot of fun with him. but at the same time, we rarely get this feeling of suspense again when it comes to confrontations- only big boss battles like Coach Brunt, Shadow-san, and cold weather

chase used his whole entire face to ram through that door

the bag tightening is so iconic i can only be grateful that she does it again later on in the show

chase: ive never had one run AT me before

does anyone ever hear the sound that chase's hair makes when it gets slicked back? because it is a SQUISH. his hair is. so saturated with gel that his hair SQUISHES

i like how it takes chase a sec when she's reading his name from the badge I like to think he thinks he's just THAT well known of an agent that she knows him

i also like that he just stands there for a sec after she grapples through the ceiling like shit now what

free him

carmen is funny i will give her that. she can also FLY apparently because she' jumping like 25 feet no problem

the grabbing of her hat as she jumps off backwards and the backwards smirk and the oh my god im so gay ok

also julia. and the horror on chase's face dhfas

dark carmen let carmen be mean, hot, and speak other languages more and that is why i want her to come back please

chase what in the goddamn fuck

ever think about how chase landing on this car right now eventually led to julia joining acme because i do

WHERE IN THE WORLD IS CARMEN SANDIEGO (TITLE CARD) (THEME MUSIC). YES BARK BARK OUGSHDFH BARK

see chase can be smart but like that one tumblr post he can be blindingly intelligent for a minute a day and he does not get to choose when that is

CARMEN CHANGING AS THE TRAIN GOES BY INTO HER CIVILIAN OUTFIT IS SOOO ICONIC

chase continuing to ruin the car as he drives along and keeps failing is the funniest fucking thing. the comedic timing of the airbag.

THE DOUBT ON JULIA'S FACE WHEN CHASE CALLS HER "JULIA" AND COMPLIMENTS HER KILLS ME EVERY TIME

driving aggressively, of course

chase is responsible for 85% of carmen's stupid nicknames on the wiki and i love him for that

i think its half funny and half sad that carmen doesn't do anything to defend herself when gray aims the crackle rod at her. its a trend with people she thinks she can trust: she still sees him as her brother, not someone who would kill her, stun her, etc.

i love the dramatic dropping of the bag just because gray esentially gave her the equivalent electric shock of rubbing a balloon against your hair

something i dislike about carmen's character is that whenever it matters carmen is ALWAYS one step ahead of whoever doing whatever. they couldn't have had us start off by seeing her as flawed but competent, cocky but still human by having gray track her here. it would have immediately set VILE up as a real threat. but instead its just the girlboss badass gray is an idiot moment. idk

i like how they had to do the match cut but they also had to make black sheep excited so they just had blacksheep go >:) and then as soon as coach brunt used her vocal cords she went :D !!!!

why is the program only one year is my question

where does coach get all of the phones to dramatically smash

black sheep, at this time knowing full ass well that she has a contraband phone when brunt smashes one: U👄U

she said SNATCH

gray laughs with all of his teeth out

they gave black sheep insecurities about her past with gray solely so they could show us black sheep having those insecurities about her past with gray to gray by black sheep

google says it takes roughly two hours to go from poitiers to paris by train. just a fun fact

hang on why was carmen going to paris by train? they didn't even have indonesia scheduled until she got there. why didn't she take zack and ivy to poitiers?? why was their rendezvous two hours away?? why didn't ivy have ANY TIME AT ALL TO GET ZACK A SNACK?? WHY DIDN'T ZACK HAVE TIME TO GET A SNACK

the biggest nesting doll has some weird inconsistency with the burn design- sometimes its there, sometimes it isn't. i wonder why carmen never ever brings it up though?

little black sheep is so cute

actually though these are some of my least favorite parts- the big long flashbacks. in my opinion, it would have been interesting to find out about carmen's past as we went along...maybe through ivy or something, or just little tidbits. like we'd get some basic information- that she used to be with VILE- but we would uncover the details with the detectives and her team. idk. little me when i first watched this show was SO confused by the flashbacks but then again my comprehension for shit is SO BAD. i literally had no clue what was going on

that nanny just standing by as carmen smears an entire tube of lipstick on the walls

LITTLE CARMEN IS SO CUTE

its very interesting how they wash out black sheep's hair when she's in VILE spaces to fit with the color schemes that are such a prominent part of this show.

little carmen was also an asshole wheeze

THEY ARE D I V I N G OUT OF THE WAY guess they learned from notyourpants guy

girl i dont think your legs are supposed to do that

why is the captain just putting claws up like what were you going to do maul her

the poor captain got the short end of the stick every single time

carmen stole someone's wedding ring so true

the crop top with the overalls is my FAVORITE outfit of black sheep's omg

carmen, like every single other teenager, drew giant eyeballs on her papers

absolutely incredible that carmen who has at this point pressed a few buttons on a phone once knows how to text and call no problem

player, calling random places: what is your full name and address please. well i know your address but what is your full name

ALSO player's room accumulating all that stuff in the years that go by is so cute

can you imagine. player just usually gives out his real name and the only reason he didn't this time was because carmen had a weird ass name

"thats a thing" HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT A HACKER IS

also how does she know what right and wrong is

lets imagine for a second player called some faculty phone line or something and professor maelstrom got this ten year old asking to aid the biggest crime network in the world just because he could and also knew nothing at all

kinda cool that they put in the weird...sewer grate or whatever that carmen later escapes out of in the shot where she's on the beach

maelstrom changes hand positions from when he asks black sheep why she requested an audience (hands clasped with thumbs up and touching) to when he says to enroll (villain steepled fingers) and then he goes back to the first on the wide shot

i admire how organically they introduce the names of all the faculty in this scene

appreciation for "the gurl is fehhahhral"

AND THEN HE GOES BACK TO STEEPLE FINGERS

i enjoy how harsh the lighting is in the faculty room. its just white on the characters

i LOVE rewatching these episodes with the lens of shadowsan's REAL motivations mmmm

i also like how black sheep really thinks about shadowsan's words

MAEL WENT BACK TO THUMBS UP CLASPED HANDS ITS ok whatever

why don't the music notes line up with the faculty raising their hands after two or three sob

where does shadowsan even walk off to. is there a door over there or does he just awkwardly scoot off and through the big doors

what the hell are even in front of black sheep's dorms a tennis court??

also i thought those dorms were where her room was where is she moving from

she tied her whole globe up with rope to walk 100 feet

mime bomb being in the background for all of this <3

i like all of the VILE Class's introductions. EL Topo is kind, Le Chevre is a bit dismissive but courteous, and Tigress is...well she's happy until she says her name and then she's a bitch about everything forever and ever

"but were you seeing things from my point of view" actually what other perspective are you giving him here

get rekt aussie boy

so upset they changed this design. the eyeliner, the fluffy hair, the red hair clip. they're so good. she's so cute. all of the young designs are cute actually

they didn't have to animate sheena's ass swaying like that

he's from australia??? really????

i like how gray was just working the soundboards one day and his pay was so bad that he was like "fuck. yeah man I'm breaking every single law. ever."

where the hell did the black on that sheep origami come from. the paper was white on both sides??

shadowsan has the best damn view on the island look at that

cleo's dress. cleo's voice. cleo's

why do they market as an import/export company if they immediately begin training as thieves. why does "villains international league of evil" matter at all

shadowsan has the only class that uses other students. the rest of the classes are main character only. so sad

my favorite part of carmen sandiego is the way they one moment don't allow the characters to say the word kill but in maelstrom's classroom he has human bones and a whole ass brain on display and then they shoot a man dead

no idea how maelstrom dropped his briefcase so that it landed on the other side of tigress's

also i love how they set up some of the two most used concepts in the entire show here: bait and switch and always protect the face

gray is blind we love him for that. she is holding a phone and gas earbuds in.

where did she get earbuds from

point and laugh

so true of le chevre to kick off the stilts the show should have let him win that one, not bs

the poor captain has gone entirely white-haired from this yearly encounter with a child

rita moreno bee cosplay

el topo's laugh is so genuine <3

what was their detention anyway? sit and talk? come up with codenames? seems more like a reward to me

imagine if gray named himself power failure and everyone called him failure

gray is a giraffe

i love the dig at old witwics with the puns for names jkdsghdsa

le chevre is very comfortable on that pole

mime bomb. that is all

class of vile, after a year of sharing a dorm with mime bomb: who the fuck are you

he's iconic

all of the different teacher rooms are sooo cool i love their designs. and once agains color theory coming through with shadowsan's red room!!!

i also like that students get to take exams with their operative gear, as it plays into how effective they will be in the field. however, what happens if someone doesn't graduate?? what happens to all their specialized gear??

she sacrificed a leg for ass. sad :(

i like how tigress acts like a cat

GET SLAPPED TIGRESS

that scrap of fabric flew SO FAR

that little wink tigress does <3

i like how shadowsan has another coat ready and waiting. who's hurt him in the past. he learned

black sheep no don't walk into the camera wait blacwfhghgfh

gray after black sheep failed so hard that she blew the entire year's worth of schooling: damn girl you're so good. best ever actually

i like how they all have to trace their names over to see if they passed like what are you getting lost on the way also getting these grades is exactly like seeing who got cast for the school musical

rip to the random background ops who failed

gray's face is actually just D:

the dutch angle dolly zoom is SOOO GOOD

tigress is still a high school mean girl. elementary school, even. the big kid's table. no children allowed

"looks like someone needs to turn in their stealth suit" black sheep she/they confirmed and sheena respects pronouns

"COME ON LET'S GO PLOT A CAPER" that is so funny to me because vile operatives as we see later NEVER, EVER PLOT THEIR OWN CAPERS

why is carmen's nose so tiny

anyway

seeing black sheep look so short next to shadowsan is so sweet considering she's almost as tall as him later <3

"are you accusing a criminal, thievery, and breaking the law teacher of cheating"

mime bomb for goodness sake. i love the animation of his face emerging from the shadows though

HOW DID SHE SNEAK ONTO THAT HELICOPTER I WILL NEVER KNOW

does anyone know whether CS uses 3d elements for some of their bigger objects like cars, helicopters, the vault door etc.

i like how vile school is completely entirely out in the open not disguised at all

gray: bye bye black sheep black sheep, from the shadows: HAVE YOU ANY WOOL

THE CREDIT MUSIC <3

OKAY so that was my post on the first episode. will they all be this long? who knows. probably. maybe. i'm so excited for this

[thefreeblog]

Hi! I’m not sure if you’ve been asked this before but, what are your top 5 BL’s that you watched this year?

Hiya anon! No I don't think I have made a post about it yet.

I started watching BLs mostly in 2022 so all of them I have watched are this year. If I pick my top 5 it will turn into my top 5 ever. Instead I'll stick to BLs released this year, so it's kind of closer to your question.

My criteria is 1. Good acting 2. Rewatch value 3. Story/script

So here it is

1. Old fashioned cupcake: This takes the top spot unquestionably. I like simple stories made impactful by good acting and some solid direction. Special mention to how day to day routines are used to further the narrative. The dessert dates, Togawas undeniable attraction towards Nozue San, Nozue San being aware but denying himself the worth he is. It's all so well done in just short 6 episodes. It also ticks all my favourite tropes age gap, height difference, mature characters, younger one being the pursuer, running for your love and food as love language. I couldn't think of even one thing which I disliked in this show. Overall just outstanding little series.

2. Triage: This show was such a sweet surprise. Other than gay romances what I like is good suspense and this show delivered on this. It was intriguing and kept me guessing. The script was tight without any loopholes. All the actors were amazing, the whole medical setup was believable. Its handling felt similar to MOD( I think author is same for both novels) but it was way way better than MOD on the suspense side and also quite believable. All the stories going in parallel and how they interwined was well done. Despite its genre believe me it's absolutely re-watchable.

3. Semantic Error: Super production values. It's such a treat to watch. It's also so close to the Yaoi way of telling stories. Grumpy computer science nerd pursued by a super loud, carefree campus artist hottie. Classic enemies to lovers. How they fall for each other is worth the watch. I also loved how they included neuro divergent aspects of Sang woo's life and due to which how he approaches love or intimacy. This kind of depiction is quite rare in mainstream media let alone in BLs. I can't explain to you in so many technical terms but when I say, each scene is very carefully choreographed, its not an exaggeration at all. It really is good with its camera angles. On top of that, good acting and direction have a made simple run of the mill BL story outstanding and so so likeable.

4. Kinn Porsche: This should be no surprise if you follow me. But this is way down the list because though it is the series which pushed me in the BL world, the story had many many loopholes. Also I was not a fan of their comedic bits. In some cases the mafia set up didn't look believable but KP hands down takes all the points in the acting department. Also the VP storyline is something I have rewatched so many times, I have lost the count now. This would have been outstanding if they would have really gone for the jugular and kept it mafia throughout without trying to achieve the mid between romance and mafia. I immensely enjoyed watching it while it was airing. I was super into the story all throughout till the last episode, where it kind of fell flat for me on the story department. But nonetheless it's still one of few favourites to rewatch for so many reasons.

5. Secret crush on you (SCOY) : I love this show solely based on what it stands for. Traditionally BLs and Yaois have super masculine characters and their stories whereas the more femme or less aggressive characters are on the side or used for comedic bits. Which is not realistic is it? This BL showed us that these side characters deserve to be the main characters in their own stories revolving around their worlds. And it delivered, big time. At times it does get too sugary or candy flossy(even the uniform was so outrageous 😂) but Toh/Jao/Daisy and their insecurities/issues are so so relatable. Their little friendship group is best. And their boyfriends too. Nobody can change my mind about Sky and InTouch are the best boyfriends from all of the Thai BLs ever. Though it's too cringy at times but never because of the cast or their acting. They all did such a splendid job on this super out proud and loud show. It definitely deserves at least one watch by everyone. Literally, keep your minds open and watch it, you wouldn't be disappointed.

Special mention to Between us, because when that ends it's gonna be one of my favourites too.

So that's my list anon. Let me know what you liked this year.

[samstclair]

Javier Peña’s Klepto

Javier Pena X Reader

Anonymous Request -

"Hey hey hey Sammy Sammy Sammy! I've just finished my 5th rewatch of Narcos: Colombia and can't stop thinking about Pedro's slutty little waist in it the entire time! I was hoping to see if you could whip something up for me - maybe an enemies to lovers? Me and Javier being the enemies, then lovers? I am a self-admitted kleptomaniac, so maybe this could help me come over that hurdle in my life? You do your thing!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Play it again! NOW!"

"Again, Danny? We get it now, if we watch it again it'll be our fourth time today! I don't think so!"

"Pablo told us to watch it over and over until we are really able to immersive ourselves into the story, to BE the characters, BE in the setting, BE a part of the heists themselves," Danny stopped and turned his head aside, closing his eyes. His abrupt silence and failure to finish his sentence caused everyone in the living room to turn to him.

"Uh, hello? Danny?" Angelica snapped in his face.

"I think he fell asleep again." Adrienne said. "Go and shake him awake. I hate when that happens."

Angelica let out an annoyed groan before thrusting her foot into Danny's shoulder, quite violently, until he shot open his big blue, Miley Cyrus-esque eyes, giving Angelica the biggest and most bombastic side-eye yet.

"Oh my god, why did you kick me!?" he snapped at Angelica. Spit and particles of Glossier lipgloss flung from his BBL lips onto Angelica's red glasses, causing them to fog.

"We thought you fell asleep!" you snapped back, defending Angelica's and Adrienne's honor. "You were talking and then you just stopped!"

"I wasn't done talking!" he exclaimed, "I stopped because I wanted to leave suspense for what I was about to say next and you guys didn't give me a chance to continue! God!"

"Oh," Adrienne giggled, "then why didn't you just say so, silly?"

"Why the fuck would I say that if I'm supposed to be quiet for the suspense?" Danny asked, still spitting.

"Danny, just face it," you said, "you're not that femme-fatale enough to go silent for that long. You're just narcoleptic."

Danny turned to face you. His face was unreadable, but you could read it. He was seeing red. If there was one thing about Danny, he took suspense pretty seriously.  "And you are? Look where that landed you in Paris, bitch."

You shuddered at the memory. Paris seemed a lifetime ago. No help in remembering that!

"Fine," you said, sort of frightened from more aggressive humbling from him, "finish what you were going to say."

"I was going to say...I actually forgot what were we talking about?"

"How your ass thought we were going to watch Ocean's 11 for the fourth time!" Angelica said, cleaning her foggy glasses with her shirt, making a windshield wiper sound. "I think Pablo knows we get the whole point. After all, it is tomorrow. We should get some rest, it'll be a big day."

How you didn't know just how big of a day that big day that Angelica said was gonna be big.

Everyone rose from the living room and began to pick up all the garbage from the floor that accumulated slowly but surely after your six hours of watching the first of the Ocean's trilogy on repeat. It consisted of dried pickle chips, Elf Bars of all different flavors, Monster energy drinks, Costco Animal Crackers, laxative pills, SpongeBob ice cream wrappers, empty and half full water bottles and more that aren't too important to mention.

You and your girls (this includes Danny) lived in a high rise apartment in Medellin, Colombia. You kept forgetting the year was 1989. The year is 1989 and you're in Medellin, Colombia living with your girls. It overlooked the communes of the city - it made you feel high in the clouds like God. The apartment was bought and paid off by none other than Pablo Escobar, or as you all referred to him, "Pablo", his code name. Pablo is among the five most popular boy's names of all time. It can be any Pablo.

This free stay didn't come without a cost, however. You four girls (and Danny) worked for Pablo and consequently the entirety of the Medellin Cartel. It was pretty crazy, but nothing you girls couldn't handle.

It was you, Angelica, Adrienne and Danny. You four were known as the Five Sisters, or by Pablo's affectionate little nickname, Las Putitas. Yes, though it may be confusing to others that there were only four of you and not actually five, Pablo liked the idea because he considered himself the fifth Sister/Puta. He wouldn't actually tell you guys any of this, but word spreads fast among the Cartel.

What you four did was simple: steal. Whether it was the Dollar Store or Goodwill, or both, you four had some sticky fingers that just had a knack for snatching just about anything. And Pablo liked that. And for you all having ten fingers, that's forty fingers in total, which is quite a lot. And that doesn't even count your toes.

He first encountered you four when you were set to go on vacation to Cancun with your girls. You four had been in the Miami airport, ready for liftoff! Everything was packed and ready - the outfits, sunscreen and suntan lotion, carts (weed) stuffed in your shoes and bras but slightly leaking, and bikini regions waxed.

But all four of your spirits were rained on and dampened when you find out that your liftoff! was delayed until the next day. Shucks.

Waiting for your next flight, you four decided to kill time and wander around Miami and see what was up. You grabbed some virgin Pina coladas and Miami lifeguard hoodies before going over to the beach. You all laid on the sand feet out and perked up, enjoying that beach breeze. Angelica had sat in front of you three facing towards the sun. You three had to turn your back towards it because the glare was too bright, but Angelica's red glasses shielded her eyes.

She leaned into you three after some time of sunbathing.

"Guys, don't like, look now - but there's this really fine dude behind y'all. I think he might be Colombian. Cause I'm actually Colombian and I know, I sense it. Should I try talking to him?"

"Oh my god what does he look like? He's right behind me, isn't he?" Adrienne asked, sitting across the sand from Angelica.

"Yes, I already said he was behind you but don't look now you're going to make it obvious -"

Adrienne whipped her head around back the moment Angelica said yes. You and Danny also turned your little heads albeit not as harshly and obvious and saw a man smoking a cigarette with a mustache, yellow sunglasses and flat cap. He was dressed like a Cuban grandfather.

You had to admit, Angelica was right.

He turned and noticed you four. You faced back around.

"You guys are like, fucking morons. I told you not to look." Angelica said.

"It's okay, Big Ange!" Danny assured, tapping his toes on hers, "I'd go and talk to him if I were you. He looks lonely."

"Yeah!" Adrienne agreed, "just walk up to him and ask about his day! Easy peasy lemons have been squeezed."

"I'm too nervous, though. What if he turns out to be really weird, or like," Angelica moved her face closer, in a whisper, "a cocaine dealer."

"Are you assuming that since he's Colombian, he's a drug dealer?" you asked.

"Oh please, everyone today is! Colombian or not! It's 1989! And if you're nervous, just grab a brewski for some liquid courage!" Adrienne said.

As if a light bulb lit up above her head and red glasses, Angelica turned to her backpack and pulled out her three-day-old can of Four Loko Gold. She took a big swig before wiping her mouth and throwing the can out to sea. Apparently the can was bio degradable so you didn't mind the littering.

She walked over, feet sinking into the hot sand causing her to go slower than expected, but she finally made it to the man. You three watched them talk.

"I hope he's cool," you said.

"Of course he's cool, who smokes a cigarette with a flat cap at the beach by themselves?" Danny said.

After some time, Angelica turned back towards you three and walked back with a big big smile.

"What did he say?" you three asked excitedly in unison like a little choir.

"You guys won't believe it! He said he could get us to Cancun for free literally right now!"

"What? What are you talking about?" you three said again in your choir.

"He said he thinks we're all hot and his friends would love us, he said he's leaving to Cancun literally right now and has a private plane we could hop in!"

"Whoa, slow down." Again, in unison.

"Could you guys stop doing that the fuck is wrong with y'all?"

"Wait, hot like we're hot or hot like we're sweating dick and balls right now?" you asked. She shrugged.

Whether it was one or the other, it was too good to be true.

How you laugh at your naivety back then.

After some deliberation, you guys came to the agreement that a free flight to Cancun was better than one that wasn't free. You gathered your things and walked back over to the man, who later introduced himself as Gustavo. He explained to you three as he previously did to Angelica while you all walked down the pier to his car that he knew someone who was a pilot and was heading to your destination.

You all finally got to the landing strip after about ten minutes of driving. The plane itself was not what you imagined it to be. Instead of your usual airline, commercial plane - it was a small, janky and little private plane. Everything was very suspicious now looking back, because a bunch of men were pulling out loads of carefully wrapped packages out of it. The man who was the pilot had a giant Swastika tattooed on his arm which didn't appear to be a good sign.

"What's with those packages?" Danny inquired to Gustavo.

"Ay, nada, mamacita. No se preocupe!" he responded in his Colombian accent that sounded like he was about to cry. "Em, how do you say - como los pinguinos? Hear nothing, see nothing?"

"Oh, no. Those are the monkey emojis. What you mean to say is 'Smile and Wave boys, Smile and Wave' from Madagascar. Close though!" he corrected, with a smile on his face. "An A for trying, honestly."

You four hopped into the back of the cockpit and were off. The fun didn't last for more than fifteen minutes, as the rest of the ride was bumpy and the A/C was broken so you all sweated profusely to the point where you all were so stiff it looked as though you were doing the Mannequin challenge from Vine (that wouldn't be popular until like forty years later because we're still in 1989). Gustavo sat in front with the Swastika-tattooed pilot, talking all sorts of Spanish mumbo jumbo that you all couldn't bring yourselves to try to understand.

White dust was stuck under all the crevices of the interior that didn't look like normal dust. It looked like cocaine.

"You guys...I think this all this white dust is cocaine," you said, low in a whisper.

"No shit dumb ass look what type of plane we're in," Danny said.

You looked around. "Seems like a normal plane to me."

"Yeah I guess so." replied Danny.

You would later find out it was actually cocaine and you were in fact right. But later Pablo told you all with the same leisurely "Hear nothing, see nothing, no?" as his cousin Gustavo. He even covered his eyes and ears to demonstrate to you all. You all felt that you were being talked down to like you were children and he was something of a father figure, but you didn't find yourself complaining because it made up for your lack of one in the first place.

When you guys had finally made it to what you THOUGHT to be Cancun, you hoped off the plane into this villa out in the South American boonies.

To make a long story short you were actually up in the mountains near Medellin. And you know where Medellin is? Not Cancun.

Gustavo thought that kidnapping you all for work would be something beneficial to the cartel. Basically, no one would suspect a group of non-conspicuous girls (and Danny) to be working for Pablo. And what did Pablo want? Free Dollar Store and Goodwill merchandise. They were just too much for him to want to pay.

You met him that day and he laid out the ground rules for you after throwing some more threatening Spanish mumbo jumbo at you guys:

1. No contacting police/DEA.

2. Do what Pablo says and that's THAT.

3. Make enough money in stolen merchandise that's satisfactory to Pablo enough to where you could return back home to America.

4. No complaining! No negative Nancies or Debby downers get any job done!

5. No asking about how the cartel works or any details, you don't have to know.

6. Apply hear nothing 🙉 see nothing 🙈 say nothing 🙊 to anything that applies to rule number 5 that you happen to accidentally encounter.

And that's how it's been ever since. Living in the apartment, you all wait for Pablo's next order and you go to do your magic. He'd send his men occasionally to pick up the stolen goods and bring you all food, which were just bandeja paisas. (They were always good and never grew old so you all didn't mind it being your breakfast/lunch/dinner/dessert.)

You all had completely acclimated to the new way of life and had a system to it at this point, which made it more confusing as to why Danny was so dead-set on watching Ocean's 11.

Over the course of two months, you all had committed a total of 132 robberies, individually or as a group. Those forty+ fingers...

Though you wished to be back home, a part of you enjoyed the rush of the forced labor. You knew you were all protected by the Cartel, so if something were to happen they'd always be near. Once, Adrienne had actually gotten caught for stealing a Hello Kitty bag from Marshall's, and bailed out by Pablo for a grand total of $100,000. That's efficiency. And this is Stockholm syndrome.

It wasn't without trouble, however. The DEA and Colombian police were cracking into the entire Medellin operation little by little, being what Pablo described to you guys as "party poopers" and wanting to "rain on their parade" and "ruin the vibe". You agreed, you didn't feel there needed to be a reason for the government to feel the need to get involved. Just let a girl live, in this case, the girl was Pablo. You all didn't enjoy seeing his mustache go into a sad face.

There were specifically two DEA agents that were American assigned to the case. All you knew through word of mouth that one was a white guy and the other was Hispanic. Because of how broadly generic the descriptions were, it was very difficult for you girls to know what they'd look like if you encountered them. Pablo just told you four to just assume everyone was DEA.

And you wish you had. But you didn't.

"So, you still on Hinge?" Adrienne asked you as you all slid into your bunk beds. You all slept in the same room and across from a large window that overlooked the city. The sun was well beyond set by now.

You took out your phone to check for any new notifications. "Yeah, but no luck yet."

"Wasn't there that one guy?" Angelica asked.

"What guy?"

"That one guy, the one with the mustache. Remember? You two were talking, like a lot."

"Every single guy here has a mustache."

"He's the one with the slutty waist."

It clicked. His face suddenly appeared in your mind and it left you disappointed. You let out a heavy, tired breath. "Oh, yeah. Javier." It hurt you to even say his name. It was such a waste.

"Oh yeah. What ever happened with him?" Danny asked. "Didn't you two go on a couple dates?"

"Yeah, we did," you started to remember. The more you thought about it, the more it turned down your spirits and reminded you as to why you chose to wipe it clean from your memory and ignore it all like it was trauma. "But, nothing came out of it."

"Well what happened?" Angelica pressed.

You hesitated but then you remembered - these are your girls. You tell them literally everything.

"Everything was going great. He was really funny and nice and all around the vibes were good. We'd been going out and finally one of the dates he wanted to invite me over to his apartment. I was looking cute, Pablo let me borrow some of the clothes from one of our runs, remember the Bebe jeans? The Y2K ones? Yeah, well those. My ass was looking fucking fat," you smiled to yourself, thinking about how Pablo and Gustavo told you that when you wore them, "Anyway, we ate dinner then went back to his apartment, and he had these like, yellow sunglasses he wore all the time. I thought to be nice I should get him new ones, so I was able to talk Gustavo into letting me keep these yellow Bebe ones I snatched at Dollar Tree for him. When we got to his apartment, I saw the old ones on the table and thought I should surprise him! When he went to the bathroom I put the new ones on so he'd be, well, surprised. When he came out and saw them on me, he got all weird all of a sudden. I was like, 'look! I got you new  sunglasses that are Bebe's like my jeans!' Then I showed him my fat ass to show the Bebe emblem, and he was not feeling it at all. Those good vibes at the beginning? Yeah, they weren't there anymore. He like, ripped them off my face and told me it would be best for me to leave."

Though it was dark and you couldn't make out your friend's faces, you knew they were all confused. Just like yourself when he removed those yellow shades from your face. You felt tears well up in your eyes - it was so sad.

"What the fuck? Who cares they're just sunglasses." Adrienne said. "He really told you to get out?"

"Was he offended that you got him new sunglasses? Like, you're implying he can't buy new ones himself?" Danny asked.

"I know, that's what I thought." you said.

"Maybe his old glasses are prescriptions?" Angelica said, "maybe he was reminded of the fact he could be legally blind?"

"Well did you ask why? What happened after?" Adrienne asked.

"I did, he just said that he had work in the morning and shouldn't have brought me to his apartment in the first place. Anyway, I left after that. It just killed the mood, I really thought we were gonna like hook up or something. He even got pale when he walked me out."

"What an asshole. Who cares? There's like so many other people who would appreciate new sunglasses from you and wouldn't want you to leave." Danny said. "Like Gustavo."

You all giggled at the mention and went to sleep soon after...

The big day was finally here. And for time's sake, let's literally just skip to when everything became BIG.

You four had driven to the location - another Goodwill. This was your fifth this week, there had already been a bulletin put out among all Goodwill employees about missing items across every one throughout the city. It had been a hot topic among the staff, but you four didn't know and frankly didn't care. Pablo was behind your back at all times. And the industry was crumbling.

You all walked in casually, careful not to bring any attention all to yourselves. And why would any of you? You're just a group of girlies (and Danny) who just want to do some shopping fun! Women be shopping!

"Okay guys, remember, Ocean's team only got what they needed, that's it," Danny said, "so don't go overboard. Do you guys have your bags?"

You all nodded, tote bags glued to your side.

"Okay, great! I'm like the George Clooney of this little team we got going on here," Danny said, biting his tongue and doing that white mom expression, absolutely eating up his new title.

"Um, who said that you were?" Adrienne asked, brows arched in confusion.

"I just did."

"That's not fair. We should all be able to choose who we want to be!" she argued.

"Well you snooze you loose! I don't make the rules, but the Daddy Clooney in me does, therefore we must get started!" he roses his arm with his index finger pointed upwards, "Girls, to your stations! We'll meet back in ten!"

You weren't sure why Danny decided to yell this at the entrance of the store for everyone to turn their heads and see. It didn't seem that George Clooney of him to announce the heist to the world. But, Danny did share the same name as George's character in the movie, so he must have had a reason? You weren't sure where the correlation in that was.

You all dispersed like little ants, all having their own role in the mission. Before entering, you reviewed the list Pablo wrote for you to find and snatch:

1. Juicy Couture bag

2. Low rise Y2K jeans

3. P.E. shirt of the local school

4. Y2K Jewelry, (playboy bunny themed preferably)

5. Twilight DVDs (I only have Breaking Dawn Pt. 2 and Eclipse, that's embarrassing for me as a Twilight fan. Change that.)

6. Hello Kitty toys (check toy section, push the kids out of the way if you have to, or steal from them themselves idgaf tbh)

7. Borat DVD

8. Ed Hardy anything tbh

9. Cute trinkets!

10. Lastly, anything that reminds you of me <3

The list was extensive and specific, but nothing you all couldn't handle. This wasn't your first rodeo.

But your last?

Maybe...

You went straight for the clothing rack, trying to find the wanted items. You looked around and saw your fellow girls all seemingly in their own worlds. You chuckled to yourself. They weren't ordinary girls. No one here knew or had a clue what you were all up to.

You kept looking through, pushing all the clothes to the right quickly like a machine and scanning the designs and graphics of the t-shirts to see if they reached the requirements. You felt that undiagnosed carpal tunnel syndrome flow through your veins and bones - it only fueled you. Pain was for the weak. Pablo told you that <3

"What do you have so far?" Angelica asked, inconspicuously standing aside you and going through the clothes as well.

"Not much luck here so far." you kept rummaging through, and found one shirt that stuck out to you - sending actual shivers down your spine. It was black and in funky letters spelled "Make the Rich Pay Tax".

"Oh my god, wasn't that the same shirt one of your old boyfriends had? What was his name? Hussain?" Angelica asked, oblivious to its dense and deep lore.

You quickly pushed it aside onto the next. "No, I don't know what you're talking about," you moved on quickly, "what about you? Have you found anything?"

"Check this out," she whispered to you as she shimmied her tote bag off her shoulder and revealing to you its contents.

"Snowglobes?"

"Yes bro they're stacked! You think Pablo will like them for the trinkets category?"

The globes clashed together softly as she shimmied it bag onto her shoulder.

"I guess, but what's useful about a snow globe?"

"They're trinkets. Trinkets aren't supposed to be useful at all, that's the point. They're just pretty clutter." Angelica explained. "Plus, he can't leave the country, you know, extradition and all - so it'll give him a unique perspective on the places he'll never get to visit. He'll be able to imagine them with glitter sprinkling all over!"

About fifteen minutes had passed. You were able to find several items of clothing you thought Pablo would like, all stacked on your arm. It was so heavy you felt it get sore, but you couldn't bear to put any of it down.

You began to felt that familiar disassociation kick in, however. Your head felt light and that tunnel vision you entered with had died out, you were on auto pilot. Crazy shit could go down in front of you and you wouldn't bat an eye. Nothing was in focus. Your head began to bang with heat and you felt your tummy rumble.

Mama needs to eat, you thought. Mama needs to eat soon.

You cradled your stomach in hoping of soothing it to overcome the hunger. It rumbled and rumbled, soon you realized it wasn't just hunger - you needed to shit. And you needed to shit now.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! you cursed yourself. I haven't even had laxxies????!!!

You looked around trying to find the nearest Sister of the group to lend all your items to and you finally spotted one. Danny was in the toy section to the far end, so you made a beeline towards him, dodging all the people and their pesty children.

"Danny. Danny." you called harshly.

He turned to see you, with a pile of toy dolls in his arms. His curious faced dropped.

"I'm not supposed to know you, remember? You really didn't pay attention during the movie," he said, "you might as well blow my cover entirely."

"Danny shut the fuck up you're so annoying who gives a fuck listen I need you to hold all this shit I need to go to the bathroom bad."

"Hold all...that?" he gulped, wincing at your subtly shaking arm. "That's a lot of stuff."

"Yes that's what I just fucking said. Hurry up it's coming out!"

"Not with that tone." he waved his finger at you in a 'no no'. "What's the magic word -"

Without thought, you launched all the clothes at him so hard it knocked his back against the shelf of toys, sending them crashing down. He tumbled down, draped in all the clothing. He let out a yelp as the air was knocked clean out from him. The crashing sound rattled throughout the entire store, sending ripples of its sound waves out to deafen every patron's ear canal.

By the time Danny had fallen, you were already towards the bathroom door, which was fortunately only a few steps away. You gripped your butt from the behind in an effort to keep everything together. A teenager had been in your way to the bathroom ahead of you, and as if you had just been given that familiar bump of Pablo's dusty dust dust, you stepped on the gas of your adrenaline and caught up to him.

"Get the fuck out the way!" you yelled, pushing him from aside like a footballer who had that football for that touchdown. He fell flat onto the ground too like Danny. You didn't feel bad. All the nerve endings of your asshole slowly opened wider as more seconds passed, that shit literally creeping out ready to make its own ripples into the toilet water like those sound waves.

Fuck Dunkin' Donuts coffee, you thought. Fuck that Dunkin' Donuts coffee! Might as well be laxxies!

Your patas were slamming on that floor.

Splat! Splat! Splat!

But you made it.

The moment your bare ass hit that toilet seat, it was game over. It was the same effect as an oil rig exploding except in reverse.

"Oh thank god," you said to yourself as it burned through. "Thank god the almighty."

After about fifteen minutes, you exited the bathroom a new person. You had spent the most of those fifteen minutes wiping. But it didn't matter, what happened in that Goodwill bathroom would STAY in that Goodwill bathroom. You were a new girl. A new Sister. A bright smile was plastered on your face that resembled some creepy anime character.

Danny was still in the toy section, a little bruised and cut up but nonetheless alright. He had all your clothes in one arm, the dolls in another. The floor was littered with all sorts of the colorful toys, and the shelf had been broken with pieces of metal shards all over.

"Hey Danny! Thanks for holding my stuff!"

He turned and glared at you. "You're a real fucking whore for that. Here." He gave your items back and you took them gladly.

You noticed he had accidentally given you one of the dolls, it was a beaten and dirty American girl doll. You thought it might've been Kit Kitteredge. There was something oddly human about it, oddly uncanny valley about it. You didn't like the way it made you feel. It reminded you of a furby...

When you looked up to Danny to give it back and get it away from your vicinity, he'd been gone. Disappeared. Disintegrated. He was literally no where in the store.

That's creepy...where did he go? you thought. And why did he give me this doll? Pablo never asked for a doll...

"Uh, Y/N, you might wanna come check this out." Adrienne said, suddenly at your right.

You turned to her. "What? Do you know where Danny went?"

Adrienne gulped, her eyebrows furrowed in worry. You didn't understand what she looked worried about. She didn't even appear this worried when she was in jail for the Hello Kitty bag.

"What's with the long face?" You asked, still living off the euphoria from the mess you left in the bathroom at the expense of your own personal relief, "he's right behind me, isn't he?"

"Y/N," Adrienne turned straight ahead of you both. You didn't realize, but she had her arms up in the air the entire time. You looked forward.

Ain't. No. Fucking. Way.

Your group was all suddenly surrounded. You stood by one another, back to back - targeted. Random ass fellow Goodwill shoppers circled around you with AK's and pistols pointed directly at you. They were not too happy. You all didn't realize but all these regular patrons were just the police and DEA in disguise. It was deathly quiet.

You looked them up and down - at one of their feet they had Danny pinned to the ground with their foot. His limbs were spread out like a cockroach that got stepped on.

"Let them through! Stand aside!" you all heard one of them call. They all then divided like Moses parting the Red Sea, letting two tall (and fine as fuck) men walk through. It was a white guy and a Hispanic guy. They were also not too happy. They had their own pistols pointed to your direction, with bullet proof vests fitted on labeled 'DEA'.

And there he was - Javier. Your hinge date. You felt that your shit circulating through your intestines once again, ready for round 2 in that bathroom. It couldn't be, no - it can't. Well it is. Uh oh this is not good. What's a girl to do right now?

"Javier?" you mumbled out. It all that was you were able to even mutter since you were so flabbergasted. He didn't seem as shocked as you would think, it was as if he knew about your true identity and intentions this entire time...

The white guy who also had a mustache looked over from you to Javier, confused about you knowing his name. He leaned in a whisper but you were able to hear because of your super sonic hearing -

"She one of your little informants, too?"

Javier shook his head and was back to you. "You're all under arrest for -"

Before he was able to finish, Angelica attempted to make her escape. She started to run so fast in one spot like a cartoon character, the friction creating a grey dust cloud from under her before bolting through the police and agents, holding the tote bag of snow globes to her chest like a mother running with her child away from danger.

"Stop her!" Javier ordered, in somewhat shock that everyone just opted to watch her run instead of trying to catch her.

One of the men ran behind her and launched himself at her, tackling to the ground like some regular football shenanigans like from earlier. She fell hard to the floor, a hard glass shatter sounding as she landed. The snow globes had bursted and spilled their glittery water all over the floor.

"Angelica!" you all yelled.

The officer that chased after her was disgusted as he was drenched in the glittery substance.

"Fuck is all that glittery water?!" the white guy yelled.

"Um, uh," Angelica's mind was racing behind those red glasses for any possible answer. You could tell she was in shock about the destruction of the globes. "My water broke?!"

"Why is your water all sparkly?" Javier asked, more confused than concerned.

"She was pregnant with Edward! From Twilight! Please she's just a young girl trying to make her way through this dog-eat-dog world!" Danny cried from the ground, the foot cutting some of his speech capacity short.

"The fuck is Twilight?" the white guy asked Javier.

"I don't know. But we better get this group to the station for questioning, soon. Let's go," Javier said, starting towards the entrance with his hands on his waist, "good job team!"

You gripped that toy baby harder. But it wasn't for any longer as they confiscated all your incriminating tote bags.

Some hours later, you had been in a small, gray interrogation room, with a black glass facing you. You were handcuffed to the table and shit was kinda tight. You felt your circulation slowly getting cut off. It was not a good, fun or fresh feeling. It just hurt. And it didn't help your carpal tunnel syndrome.

You hadn't seen your girls since the sting operation. A part of you wished that Pablo was here to help bail you out, but chances are he hadn't found out yet. Word sometimes doesn't travel fast in the Cartel.

Your disassociation was through the roof, higher than it ever was before. You might has well been dropped in the middle of the Saharan desert with no food or water - you felt all your sense of reality slip away as time ticked and ticked on. You were slumped forward, bare face on the cold table. These bare walls gave you nothing to hyper fixate on.

What's a girl to do....I've been caught, you thought to yourself.

It seemed your string of luck had finally run out.

The door swung open, walking in the white and Hispanic guy (Javier). They shut the door behind them, and the sound of it sprung you up like you just took a bump of Pablo's pixie dust.

You reminded yourself - you couldn't show them that you were weak. But, let's be real - a girl was tired. How long could you keep the facade? But no, they can't - they need to think you're resilient! Like some random person said, fake it 'til you make it girl!

"Y/F/N Y/L/N, right?" the white guy asked. They took a seat in front of you, manspreading to the max. Buzzfeed would be livid.

I can't answer them without a lawyer, you thought.

The white guy stared at you with some dead tired blue eyes for an answer. Javier lit a cigarette.

You looked at him with dead eyes back. You thought you looked intimidating, but in reality you looked shell-shocked like a war veteran.

He looked to Javier.

Javier looked to you. He was also waiting.

"Okay, anyway -" Javier started.

"That's your name, right?" the white guy asked.

You took a moment to scan your vibe - is this too serious you can't joke or is this all just a test? Either way, you needed to outsmart these narcs. And quick.

"What's your name?" you asked sneering, biting your tongue to yourself in your white mom self, knowing you ate.

"Agent Murphy."

You didn't know how to expand after the question. "Alright, sweet."

"Why can't you answer the question?"

"I choose NOT to incriminate myself. Don't you know about Miranda rights? Mr. Lin Manuel wasn't playing around," you retorted.

"There's no such thing as Miranda rights in Colombia," Javier said lowly, somewhat embarrassingly. Murphy gave him an annoyed look.

"Whatever, c'est la fucking vie. I don't have to tell you guys anything," you shot back, crossing your arms as best you could since you were still handcuffed and looking to the bare wall beside you, away from them. "Like, no taxation without representation, honestly." you muttered, not as loud since you weren't confident if that applied to Colombian law or to the situation in general. I should really pick my battles, you thought.

"Look, you can make this easier on yourself and just talk. We don't want you," Javier said, "we want Escobar."

"See, this is the problem with you guys. You don't want to see a woman in STEM succeed, like me, because of others that are caring and giving, like Pablo," you covered your mouth - you'd just revealed the codename for Pablo to the DEA.

Fuck, you thought.

"Whatever," you rushed, trying to move on from the slip up, hoping they didn't catch on because they're boys and they're naturally slow, "anyway, I can't give into your demands. I'm no rat."

"Pablo has you captive. We can help you and your friends, if you help us." pleaded Javier. Murphy had his arms crossed and seemed to be getting impatient.

"Your friends already talked. They're all rats. It's just you left." Murphy spat.

"They wouldn't rat." you said.

"They did," Murphy sat up from his chair and got in closer, intimidatingly. "Your Danny friend spilled everything. You all work for the narcos."

"The 'narcos'?" you asked, pretending to play stupid.

"Yes, the narcos."

"Danny is no narco."

"Danny is a narco. He works for them, just like you."

"The only narco Danny is is narcoleptic," you said, raising your thin ass eyebrows, chewing your mouth as if you had gum in it, which you didn't. "Look, why don't we end this war we have going on, right here and right now? I can be the mediator. Let's end this once and for all."

"You're confident enough to speak on behalf of the entire Medellin cartel?"

"I've never felt more confident in my life," you smiled. You were lying.

"How do you suppose we do that, then?" Murphy asked, intrigued. You had him.

"Well, maybe we could start with some Co-Exist bumper stickers? I have some in my tote bag that's sitting pretty in the evidence room. Maybe we can all start by slapping them on our cars? It could probably end all conflicts, actually."

"Really?" Murphy scoffed, making a snarky laugh. "You really think that could solve all conflicts? What about Israel-Palestine? You think that could solve it?"

"Honestly, yeah. Maybe," you answered. You had no idea what that was, but it sounded important. "I'd just have to get a couple more stickers."

Murphy slammed his big hand on the table. "Control your informant, Javi!" He was not happy. He had snapped.

Got him there, you smiled to yourself.

"She's not my informant. Look, Murphy, let me handle this. Okay?"

"You want me to leave?"

He leaned in closer to his BFF's ear to whisper. But since you have super sonic hearing you heard him.

"...just go on back, leave it to me. She's kind of a, uh, a bimbo."

You smiled to yourself at the comment. You did love being called a bimbo. It was who you are. There was something so powerful about being a lil ignorant. "Oh, you're too sweet, Javi," you said. They both shot you a confused look.

Murphy then rose and stepped out, leaving now just you two. He shut the door behind you.

"And then there were two," you said, squinting your eyes and trying to give yourself that femme fatale persona. "So Javi, this is what you've been up to since our date? Since you kicked me out of your house?"

"I've actually always been doing this."

"Oh, so you've always known about me, is that it? Are you some sort of a stalker? And what have you been telling that Debby-downer, negative-Nancy friend of yours? That I'm an 'informant'?"

"I never told him about us, or anyone. When you gave away that you worked for Pablo, I knew I couldn't have a relationship with you. That's why I kicked you out. I don't sleep with criminals."

"I'm not a criminal. And what I do isn't even that bad. I literally just take from capitalistic greedy organizations and businesses and give it back to the public - what's rightfully theirs. Like Robin Hood shit. And plus, how did you know I worked for Pab -" you caught yourself, "I mean, for Escobar?"

"Only people like Escobar have access to Bebe jeans and sunglasses." he said, not giving you any eye contact as he let out a puff from his cigarette and put it out on the table, unbothered.

It then hit you - those stupid pee-colored aviator glasses had hung on his buttoned shirt revealing his lack of chest hair. That stupid gift you went out of your way to get him for, those stupid jeans that made your ass fat - they had done more than compliment your outfit - they were the catalyst the entire time.

"Honestly, that's kind of a relief. I thought you didn't think I was hot."

"No, you are, but being a criminal isn't. And what's uglier is being one of Escobar's criminals. It's actually an eyesore." he rose up and sat on the table beside you. "So why don't you say what happened, then you and your girls can go to Cancun," he leaned in to whisper like he did earlier to his BFF/boyfriend Murphy, "And you won't be an eyesore to me anymore."

You felt yourself get hot down there. If your genital region was a diesel powered car, shit would be hauling actual ass. But no, you couldn't give in. You had to stay true to what Pablo would do.

What would Pablo do? you thought to yourself, looking down to your W.W.P.D. anklet. It was pink, Pablo's favorite color. What would Pablo say?

"Or what, Mr. Agent Javier Pena?" you whispered back. You weren't sure if that's what Pablo would've said, but there was no going back now.

He leaned in closer, an inch away from your mouth.

"Come clean and admit to all those grand larcenies your naughty little big Bebe butt did," he brushed his fingers through your hair, tucking it behind your ear. "And your ties to Escobar and his cocaine operation."

"The only cocaine operation I know about is the one with the bear," you whispered back, eyes fluttering, "have you seen the movie?"

"No, I don't watch movies," he whispered back. You felt his breathe on your cheek, it tickled it. You felt your rosacea arise. "But I do watch Escobar's every move. That's like a movie to me."

Mama can't hold back any longer. you thought. Mama's getting hot.

You didn't realize, but the handcuffs weren't as tight as you thought, and you were able to slip  free from their restraint.

You jump up to hug him, he hugs tightly back, he then throws you on the table and you feel his member pressed against your leg. He begins kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fight for dominance but you let him win. He eventually starts going down on you, taking your Bebe booty jeans and panties labeled 'Thursday' you got as a personal gift from Gustavo, (it was actually a Monday, but you liked breaking rules), off, and starts kissing your labia.

"This...this is a labia" he says.

You lift your leg as he begins to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He holds your foot up and raises himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes are closed, ready to take the boy from the United States of America in. This is it. No DEA, no grand larceny charges, no creepy baby dolls, nothing - just you and Javier.

You heard the agents on the other side of the door bang and bang, but Javier had actually locked the door. It made you more hot thinking this is what he had planned the entire time. He was always one step ahead. Maybe he wasn't so different from Pablo after all.

Hope you enjoyed!

xoxo,

~Sam St. Clair

P.S. ~ Just a friendly reminder, DO NOT refer to me as anything else if it's not the following: Sam, Mr. St. Clair, Sam St. Clair, Clair, or St.. Hearing 'Sammy' makes me feel very violent. Next time, I won't accept any request that starts with it, just a friendly warning! :)

[yonicfemcel]

i had a dream long time ago, as an entity who wasnt me for the whole duration but rather some dude, i don't remember the details, only thing i remember is that i sat down to watch a movie with friends for 3 hours. russian film. doesnt exist obviously but i write to maybe realise the story some day. white color dominates with black and red giving secondary hints. very artistic. main roles are femme fatale jewelier mafia woman (played by me [not me as in daftie but me as in some actress who looks like i look]) called gina who is selling very rare jewels to bad oligarchs and evildoers and literal rich israeli pedophiles (it's shown obviously that these people in theory have no business buying jewelry i dont remember but shes a chemist too but theyre not drugs but maybe related to them. that vibe). and this literal nobody fucking uni student gets in her crosshairs (played by Dima Lysenkov). theres this iconic scene that when i woke up i remembered first: she puts this metal tube pistol that shoots a big thin metal needle to his head and he pleads for life and she puts it to his crotch and he goes "you know what id rather you shoot there but can you shoot in such an angle that it goes through my rectum and doesnt grace anything else and just shoots my dick off clean because i looked it up and such an angle exists" and then he awkwardly stops talking and she just puts it over his stomach and hes like "uhhh i probably would survive that you can do that too" and she asks "so you wouldnt mind living dickess?" and he answers ofc not life has so much more. and she takes a liking to him. basically the movie is about her doing the deals and fixing some missunderstanding from which everyone in the end dies and also psychologically and psychosexually torturing her unifag boytoy thats moralising everything and seething at the evil he was plunged into suddenly. and eventually she grooms him to give his life for her and presses a gun that was fake to fool baddies but he didnt know that so he was shooting to kill and its all symbolic. corruption etc. it was really suspenseful in the movie i'm not doing it justice. but in the end same thing happens but they get impaled on some metal spike but its not fatal for him. and he survives and police arrives and he grieves but in the end he finds out that she had clones in a lab and merely one clone died. a la altered carbon. cliffhanger

[mermaidsirennikita]

So I watched the Obsession netflix series and I enjoyed it. Very suspenseful and the sets were to die for. I didn't find the sex scenes particularly sexy though. And it's fine, maybe that was purposeful or maybe it just wasn't to my taste. But I was just a bit surprised as I kept seeing it advertised as an ~erotic forbidden lovers~ and I didn't find those scenes all that engaging. What did you think?

It was an erotic thriller, I would say; but erotic doesn't always = sexy when it comes to genre, imo. It refers more to the relationship sex and sexual behavior has to the plot and characters. Obsession reminded me of 80s/90s era erotic thrillers. Fatal Attraction is one where I don't think the sex is sexy, but it's still an erotic thriller.

To an extent I think Obsession was possibly marketed incorrectly as this forbidden lovers thing, but it's also like... it's about a woman cheating on her lovely boyfriend with his dad. Did people expect a romantic story? Lol. (Not talking about you.)

I didn't find the scenes sexy; I don't think I was supposed to; and I don't think that stopped them from being interesting. Maybe not everyone, but by the end of the series a lot of things I had interpreted one way I changed my view on. Anna was presented as a femme fatale, and while she was to an extent, I found that by the end... while she victimized Jay, she was ultimately a victim of how men like her brother and William saw her. The last moment of William approaching the apartment while she sat there was presented like a predator and prey. She hurt people, for sure, but she'd been hurt so badly and didn't feel she was worthy of actual love and affection (and I think she actually did care about Jay; her inability to accept her own worthiness of that kind of healthy, normal relationship is why she fucked it up so epically).

Imo, William was a subversion of the trope his character more represented in earlier versions of this work (especially the Irons movie). Erotic thrillers often present this man who's a victim of his own simple desires, his desperation for an escape. He's stupid, he's horny, but he's not... evil. Right? I saw William as someone presented in this way at first, approached by this crazy femme fatale who just luuuures him in. And the show also implies this lack of experience--he's clearly never had affairs before or he would cover his tracks better. He's not a smooth ladies' man. He lasts like, 5 seconds that first time. If you told me Indira Vharma popped that man's cherry and Anna was the second person he ever slept with, I'd believe you.

But... that doesn't mean he isn't a man in a position of power, in terms of age and his position in the world. That doesn't mean he isn't a predator who recognized in Anna something wounded and vulnerable. She literally tells him what happened to her--maybe she doesn't say in so many words what her brother did, but she says he was in love with her and killed himself, so it's like... yeah, most likely he assaulted her. And even if you didn't make that connection, a woman having a brother who was in love with her who then killed himself is so wounding? Anna says she's damaged? But William keeps going on. What sealed it was his total callousness towards his own son's death, while she is wracked with guilt and trauma. He's been preying upon her and her weaknesses the whole time, but due to the sexual dynamic they had--she's domming in the streets, subbing in the sheets, he follows her desperately--you're led to believe something else at first. The thing is, their sexual games were just that: games. Her being in control in their mind games... It really was just a game. She didn't have true power in reality. He's following her--and using his resources to do so--whether she wants it or not. And she's psychologically powerless to resist repeating herself, perhaps even more so now.

So with that in mind, I can see why the sex scenes were so clinical and unsexy. I can see why they were put into the story. I do not think it functions if you don't see their sexual dynamic. But they're not sexy. They're like... a symptom of Anna's trauma and William's deeeeeeply gross sickness.

I will note--I do find the constant "kink as symptom of trauma" thing a bit played out. Like. Yes, kink can be used by people working through trauma, but it doesn't have to be related to trauma, and it can be a healthy way to work through it. Tbh, the bdsm in the series was extremely mild, but. That still bugged.

[255940g]

Any title ideas guys? Ch.2 - Hugs? Why no hugs?

Chapter summary: This is set a few days after Samantha came online. I'm not bothering to have her mess up with simple things like walking. This focuses on the issues of having sensitive wings, but still wanting a hug from your best friend. Even though your best friend is willing to hug - bee is only leaning lightly into the hugs and not using his arms like a weirdo. Sam wants to know why.

Inspiration fic: Don't say you'd rather walk by ChronoQuantify.

Masterlist: X

Ch.1, Ch.3

Jazz in particular accidentally came across the two bots in a small snit...over how the best hugging position. Bee knew how sensitive and delicate wings were. But particularly how sensitive her wings are. He dosen’t even want to contemplate touching Sam’s new wings without an emergency necessitating touch. (It also dosen’t help that everyone at the base had some version of talk about the sensitivity level of her wings and the general understanding that the standard touching requires a huge amount of trust normally only given to the closest of medical professionals - under a strict set of circumstances, family members, lovers, and children. Usually in that order too)

Sam is understanding that her new wings are indeed sensitive - she feels them all the time to the point of being angry when the wind picks up speed. Yet, she knows and trusts Bumblebee to be gentle with her wings. Bee just isn’t trusting himself in this situation.

What Jazz saw was Sam throwing up her servos in the air before turning to Bee saying ‘fine, I’ll demonstrate what I mean then’, and walking the distance between the two of them. Jazz carefully backed away wanting to see what happens. If they were going to discover making out he didn’t want to see that, and nor did he want to be seen and possibly interrupt, but dammit this was the hottest gossip and there were multiple bets to be kept track of. Jazz’s helm popped back around the corner when he heard a vague metallic bump on the other side.

He saw a completely surprised Bumblebee with his servos carefully not touching any part of the femme. Sam had her arms wrapped around Bee’s frame gently coming from under his arms. She pulled away slightly to meet Bee’s optics. “This is how I usually hug. It feels most comfortable as you are still taller than I am.” Bee very slightly nodded though notably his door wings never shifted from their nervous high upwards position.

Sam continued “Alright how are you going to return it? I’ve seen you exchange quick hugs with others, so I know you know how to hug. Or do you want to look like a startled kitten?”

Jazz continued to watch in rapt suspense. He knew the problem, her wings. Bee was also usually the smallest bot around. Unfortunately, it seemed Bee took too long to respond as Sam continued slowly pulling away further “Unless you don’t want to hug me?”

Frantically Bee closed the space between the two of them “NO! No, no. It’s just…your wings. They’re-”

“Yes, yes.” Physically waving a servo away as if it was inconsequential “My wings are sensitive. I’m the one that feels them consistently. Bee,” Insisting on meeting his optics and gentling her tone “Bee, I know you will be careful.”

Finally accepting his fate - ‘oh no the horror of being hugged by a stunning femme in and out who is clearly attracted to you just as much as you are to her’ Jazz’s processor snidely mocked - he carefully wrapped his arms around Sam’s shoulders and incredibly gently touched her wings.

“See, it's all good. Hugs are best when they’re reciprocated.” Sam’s voice was barely audible to Jazz’s audio sensors. Smiling Jazz walked quietly away. Knowing the two young bots, they weren't going to move for a little while. Better to share the good news and steals a picture or two. Sometimes they were too cute for words.

After that, it wasn't an uncommon sight to see Bee touching Sam’s wings more casually. Though there was always a moment when Bee made sure that it was still alright. The first few times Ratchet and Optimus saw it happen, the two of them visibly paused for a moment to recalibrate what they knew. Each has taken one of the bots in question under their guidance in a parental manner. (Optimus with Bumblebee and Ratchet with Sam.)

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (866): Thu 1st Aug 2024

My last holiday day…SIGH. Yet again I've wasted nearly the whole holiday on the internet rather than reading or watching films or doing even the slightest bit of exercise. It's pathetic but true that these days whenever anyone asks me where I go during my holiday the answer is "YouTube". I decided I should watch at least one film during my time away and I went for the seemingly innocuous but utterly sinister La Femme Infidel. I can't remember how I learned about this film though I suspect that it was through reading about Hitchcock and finding out that director Claude Chabrol was an admirer of his. Despite really liking this movie it remains the only work of Chabrol's that I've ever watched. I should really get round to watching his other stuff because much like Hitchcock Chabrol was a master of suspense and had a keen eye for the macabre. There's not that much of a plot, we basically follow Charles, a man who discovers his wife is having an affair, kills her lover and disposes of her body and that's it really. However Chabrol makes the buildup to the murder seem so harmless, the murder itself so shocking and cerebral and the aftermatch so tense and open to interpretation. The murder scene itself is one of my all time favourites in any movie. Charles goes to the lovers house and is the perfect gentleman, calmly introducing himself and insisting he has no ill will towards the man his wife has been banging behind his back. He even asks for a tour of the house so he can see the bed where the man has been screwing her. He then prepares to leave but then grabs an ornament from the mans table and caves his head in. What follows is a ten minute stretch of Charles cleaning the blood and wiping fingerprints. There's no dialogue or music just pure suspense where you sit and imagine what’s going on in his head. Chabrol said this film wasn’t inspired by Hitchcock at all but fuck off Chabrol! Fuck yourself in your stupid French arse with a biggest stiffest baguette in Paris, this entire stretch is pure Hitchcock. Later on I went on a date with this gorgeous girl I met on Bumble. To break the ice I asked who her favourite Hollyoaks villain was & she said she didn’t watch the show. I pretended I needed a wee then climbed out the toilet window & got the fuck out of there. That's a red flag right there. I got the bus home and watched tonight's Hollyoaks. Oh Christ who cares about this Dave / Lizzie's baby story? Where’s Dilly? This is valuable screen time you could be giving Dilly!!! The show should give its viewers little remote controls with buttons on that they can press whenever a storyline isn't doing anything for them and if a certain percentage decides they don't like one it should just fast forward to the next one. I dare say if you made the threshold for moving on 99% this Dave / Lizzie storyline would still be getting skipped as the 1% not pressing their buttons would be people who'd temporarily misplaced their remotes after throwing them at the TV whenever Dave is on screen. Also if I was a writer on the show every time a scene ended on a really awkward dramatic note there would be a pause then I'd have Disco Benny burst into the room, scream "PARTY TIME MOTHERFUCKERS" & then the other characters say "Not a good time, Benny" then have him leave