#mostly just using this for my personal tracking

[what-even-is-thiss]

Free or Cheap Spanish Learning Resources So You Can Run at Windmills in Fluent Spanish

I will update this list as I learn of any more useful ones. If you want general language learning resources check out this other post. This list is Spanish specific. Find lists for other specific languages here.

For the purposes of this list "free" means something that is either totally free or has a useful free tier. "Cheap" is a subscription under $10USD a month, a software license or lifetime membership purchase under $100USD, or a book under $30USD. If you want to suggest a resource for this list please suggest ones in that price range that are of decent quality and not AI generated.

WEBSITES

Dreaming Spanish - A website that is also a YouTube Channel. This is a comprehensible input site with videos about a variety of subjects with multiple hosts from multiple countries. It has content for learners from absolute beginner to lower advanced. It lets you sort videos by dialect, subject, length, etc. The free version has a lot of content. The paid version is $9 a month and has many more videos and allows you to track your listening hours. The website is in English but all videos are entirely in Spanish.

Lawless Spanish - A free website with resources to learn Spanish relating to grammar, pronunciation, and vocabulary. The website also has worksheets, charts, an AI chatbot, and reviews of different learning resources. The website is in English.

Spanish Boom - A free website with beginner lessons and free readings with audio and visual aids. They're also associated with a service called Esidioma that provides paid courses with tutor help for around $23 and also sells books. Prices are in Euros but they also sell to people outside of Europe. The website is available in multiple languages.

studyspanish.com - A website with free verb drills and grammar lessons. It's commonly used by high school Spanish students. They also have a blog that hasn't updated in a while but there is an archive to read through. They have a paid tier with access to their podcasts, vocab lessons, and their Spanish learning app which is $10 a month or $120 for a lifetime membership. The website is in English.

Speaking Latino - A website marketed at Spanish teachers but it's in English and has guides to colloquial Spanish and slang in a lot of different countries and a free blog with tips on sounding like a local in different countries. It has a paid tier but that's mostly useful for Spanish teachers. They also sell slang dictionaries for various countries that are usually less than $10.

UT Austin Spanish Proficiency Exercises - A bunch of free grammar, vocab, and pronunciation guides for various tasks you should be able to do in Spanish at various levels from one of my alma maters, the University of Texas at Austin. It's got videos of people from different countries pronouncing things. The podcast links often don't work for some reason but the grammar, vocab, and video links should work fine. The website is in English.

SpanishDict - A free dictionary website and app with a search feature that also has curated vocabulary lists on various topics and articles. They have a paid tier at $13 a month with a writing coach and subscriber only curated lists and articles. Personally I don't think their paid tier is all that special but it's up to you. The website is in English.

BBC Bitesize Spanish - Bitesize is a free study resource for kids and is sorted by level. It has articles aimed at little kids as well as secondary school aged teens studying for their exams or planning to study abroad. The website is in English and available worldwide, not just in the UK.

YOUTUBE CHANNELS

Hola Spanish - A channel by a woman named Brenda from Argentina who makes videos about grammar, pronunciation, culture, media, and general Spanish tips for upper beginner to advanced learners. The channel is almost entirely in Spanish with occasional vocabulary words translated into English onscreen. There are subtitles in Spanish onscreen but sometimes they randomly disappear.

Butterfly Spanish - A channel with free lessons from beginner to lower intermediate. The host also makes videos about useful phrases and listening practice videos. The channel is mostly in English.

Spanish After Hours - A comprehensible input channel for beginner to intermediate learners with vlogs, history, Spanish tips, and news. The descriptions and video titles are in English but the videos are all in Spanish. The channel host is from Spain.

Easy Spanish - A channel part of the easy languages network that makes a combination of videos with useful phrases and terms for beginners and interviews on the street with locals. They have teams in both Barcelona and Mexico City and there are dual language subtitles in Spanish and English onscreen. The hosts also have a podcast for intermediate to advanced learners.

My Daily Spanish - A catchall channel that has lessons, discussions of grammar, culture topics, vlogs, vocabulary, and other various things. The host is from Spain and also makes a lot of YouTube shorts. She mostly speaks in Spanish but occasionally uses English or has English translations onscreen.

Spansh Boost with Martin and Spanish Boost with Mila - These channels are run by a couple from Argentina who also work as tutors on italki. They often appear on each other's channels and both have their own podcasts and vlogs and general content videos that they make discussing their lives, giving tips, and discussing culture. Mila also makes a lot of videos playing the sims.

Spanish Boost Gaming - Run by Martin from Spanish Boost, this is a lets play channel in clear and easy to understand Spanish. Subtitles are available in English and Spanish and a few other languages as well and it's an actual let's play channel. He plays a variety of video games, makes jokes, and says cuss words and everything.

Mextalki - A channel run by a couple of guys from Mexico city that has listening practice, podcasts, street interviews, and Mexican Spanish specific lessons. Some videos have dual language subtitles onscreen while others do not. The channel is majority in Spanish but in a few lesson videos or portions of videos they will speak in English a bit.

Espanol Con Juan - A channel that teaches Spanish in Spanish from upper beginner to upper intermediate. Juan has grammar lessons, vocabulary lessons, and videos about culture. He is from Spain and the channel is entirely in Spanish. He also has a podcast for more advanced learners.

READING PRACTICE

Vikidia - A wikipedia type website specifically made for kids. The articles are short and written in more simple easy to understand Spanish. The website is in Spanish and made for native speaker kids.

Spanish graded readers by Olly Richards - Spanish has short stories and dialogues for beginner and intermediate, books in easy Spanish on world war 1, world war 2, western philosophy, and climate change. There's also dialogue books specific to Mexican Spanish and Spanish used on social media. The books usually go from $5-$20 new depending on how old they are and whether or not you bought a digital copy. These are really easy to find at used bookstores for cheap though, especially in the US.

Conatilteg Digital - This is a mobile app that provides digital versions of the free textbooks for children provided by the Mexican Ministry of Education both historic and current. The link I provided is for iOS but the app is also available on android and the app is available in multiple countries and not just Mexico. The app is entirely in Spanish and categorized by grade from preschool to secondary school so it's a resource appropriate for all levels and may be enjoyable for any kids you know that are learning Spanish. You can also view their browser website here. (also entirely in Spanish)

Hola Que Pasa - A free website with news articles for learners from beginner to intermediate difficulty. They also provide audio and have the news articles available in podcast form. Every article has certain phrases highlighted that you can hover over and get and English translation of. The website is in a mix of English and Spanish.

Spanish in Levels - A world news website in Spanish for learners. The articles are separated into three different levels and the website is in a mix of English and Spanish. Each article also has audio.

PODCASTS

Spanish for False Beginners - An unscripted podcast about various topics hosted by a guy from the UK and a guy from Spain. The podcast is aimed at people who find beginner content to be boring but still find intermediate content to be too difficult. English is very rarely used.

Uforia/Univision - Uforia is a free app aimed at native speakers in the US and has Spanish language radio, music, and podcasts. Univision in general is also useful if you like American and international news and programming in Spanish.

Radio National de Espana - Another site for native speakers, this is Spanish National Radio. They have a variety of free podcasts and radio programs.

Spanish Obsessed - This is a series of lessons in podcast form for learners from absolute beginner to advanced.

Storylearning Spanish Podcast - This podcast tells different short stories in Spanish and is aimed at upper beginner to lower intermediate learners.

Radio Ambulante - A Spanish language podcast from NPR that's similar to something like This American Life that tells stories from around Latin America. Although it's aimed at native speakers, the language used is clear and understandable and transcripts are available. They're also aware that a lot of intermediate and advanced learners use them for listening practice and they have developed a free app that helps with comprehension and vocabulary when listening to their podcast.

SELF STUDY TEXTBOOKS

Madrigal's Magic Key to Spanish - A self study textbook written in the late 80s that still mostly holds up for beginner to upper beginner Spanish. A paperback edition of the textbook is about $25 and used copies and ebooks are also usually available wherever you like to buy books. It's also half off on Amazon pretty often.

Complete Spanish step-by-step by Mcgraw Hill - This is a complete version of the McGraw Hill budget option, the spanish step by step series that focuses on the most frequently used words and grammar. It's $25 new but the individual books in the series usually cost less than $10 and used versions and ebooks are available.

Complete Spanish Grammar from Mcgraw Hill - This is a workbook as well as a textbook that usually costs around $20. The complete Spanish all in one version of the book costs about $40. Used versions of these books can be difficult to find because people tend to write all over them but ebook versions are available. You can also find their beginner workbook for around $18.

Practical Spanish Grammar - This book is usually around $25 but because it's not a workbook it's fairly easy to find used copies. An advanced grammar textbook is also available.

SERIES FOR LEARNERS AND KIDS SHOWS

Destinos - This is a series of over 50 episodes of a telenovela made for Spanish learners. The plot revolves around a group of siblings searching around the world for their long lost half sibling they just learned that they had so the series includes a lot of different Spanish dialects.

Extra Spanish - A 13 episode sitcom made to show in Spanish classrooms that revolves around a group of friends in Spain and a student that just moved there.

Dora la Expladora - Yeah if you remember Dora the Explorer from your preschool days it also unsurprisingly exists in Spanish. You can watch clips and some full episodes on YouTube and buy full seasons for around $8 each on Amazon.

PBS Kids in Spanish - A few PBS Kids shows like Cyberchase and Daniel Tiger have been dubbed into Spanish. The link I've given goes to a place to buy them on Amazon Prime but if you go digging on their YouTube channel or the PBS Kids website you also might be able to find them for free. They don't always make it easy to find though.

Plaza Sésamo - The Spanish language localization of Sesame Street for Mexican audiences with its own unique characters. The YouTube channel has a huge amount of content on it and often has episodes streaming live.

[anothermariamorales]

Years ago I wanted lip filler. It wasn't as common back then so it didn't feel like it was everywhere. Really glad I didn't though, because I feel like keeping MY face, my features as I inherited them, is an act of rebellion these days. It's not like dysphoria for me, it's just vanity and comparison and feeling like I need an advantage to look prettier to give me further advantages in life.

And now it's like a med spa arms race with everyone "enhancing" their features and either lying about it or acting like it is basic grooming.

I volunteered at SXSW this year and I mostly saw educational or film/tv sessions, but I was put into one session on the beauty track and I haven't been the same since.

I looked out at the crowd and realized the audience of mostly women all pretty much had the same face. I know we've gotten used to seeing Instagram face on, well, Instagram, but the rate at which we encounter those faces in real life is a lot lower than when we're scrolling. Those feeds are not representative of our experiences in the world, where we still encounter some variety and features beyond the limitations of an inoffensive mathematical average. This crowd, however, was also not a representative sample and seeing it in person felt wrong. I was in the uncanny valley and my moderate lips felt thin, my nose felt bulbous, and I listened to the speakers talk about their beauty products that would make us, in the audience, more beautiful with less effort while upholding our values and representing our needs.

Film and TV aren't much better. The crowds at SXSW were mostly people who worked out of sight of the camera and public scrutiny. It's more acceptable to be unattractive because it's not your job to be looked at.

However, I've noticed every time I'm at an event or function for the film and tv industry, everyone is so god damn hot. Pretty privilege is probably more potent in industries where people in power are surrounded by professionally attractive people all the time.

It's pretty much expected for talent to prioritize their looks, to get the treatments and the surgeries as subtly as possible so they can continue competing with the new talent who never had an awkward phase. We look at actors who came up in the 90s and were held up as standards of beauty and applaud them when they delay aging, saying "wow they still look great, what a timeless beauty!" We don't see the irony that even in their "prime" (don't get me started on that phrase) they wouldn't hold up to the current expectations because their features were a little too different, too imperfect, too organic. To top it off, they're getting worse at emoting because their faces can't move naturally anymore. Beautiful in still photography, but film is not a still medium. Still, the aesthetics are being prioritized over the performance.

When it comes to media, low and no-budget indie are my last safe haven. I love watching the talent, who look like people you see all the time. When they're beautiful, they're beautiful in the way that your school crush was. Not perfect, but it doesn't matter because you're attached to them anyway. Sometimes they're not beautiful and it's even better because most people aren't A-list level beauties. I'm not saying beautiful people can't be interesting but, if they are famous as a hot A-lister, they are literally an exceptional beauty and we need more stories that are representative of us.

If we only ever see beauty that takes extraordinary effort or money and we compare ourselves to that, it's going to limit us. We're going to divert our energy and resources to keep up with it or feel bad because we can't keep up with it. Think of all the things we could do if we didn't divert those resources to keep up appearances. All we could do if we weren't too self-conscious or afraid of comparison from brutal audiences to put ourselves out there. We have plenty of people who can portray a story, but we're going to have a shortage of stories worth portraying.

Normalize ugliness. Normalize imperfection. It's so liberating not just for yourself but for everyone who witnesses your refusal to hold yourself back because you're not "pretty enough" to be comfortable with being observed.

We're here to live a life for ourselves. Let the actors worry about the audience.

it is so important that you are a little bit ugly. please get comfortable with having unplucked eyebrows and nonexistent jawlines and wrinkles. let your blue hair grow out into an uneven pale green and your clothes be old and mend them and modify them until they’re unique to you. wear lipstick which doesnt compliment your skintone and mismatched outfits which went out of fashion 5 years ago. be a little bit too loud and a little bit too passionate and as weird as you can be because oh my god there is nothing more disturbing to me than perfection. beauty is manufactured and sold to us and you need to realise that you are a fucking animal to live a joyful life I am so serious. you cant obsess over aesthetics forever please just live messily and make your body your home however you please.

if you dont do it for you, do it for all the teenagers who will see u in the street and know that they are not obligated to be attractive

[skiesuconn]

never a dull moment with you

paige bueckers & azzi fudd യ notes: this has been in my drafts for way too long. anyways. let me know what you think. i kinda forgot the timeline, so don't come at me for that. but it's a little based on the ''mtv cribs'' ig story a few years ago. reactions are welcome

if there’s one thing about paige madison bueckers, it’s that she’s never shy about making azzi feel loved, loudly loved. even if that means being a little annoying. and especially if it means being a little annoying.

it’s been five years, 11 months, three days, and, like, 46-something seconds since paige accidentally fell for azzi fudd. don’t ask how she knows the exact number. she has a countdown on her ipad. she’s weirdly proud of it too, obviously.

maybe that explains the weird attachment to her ipad. it’s not just because of stats and game footage. but it’s mostly got her notes app, where she tracks every time azzi’s said “you're a dumbass” and every time she’s fake-threatened to dropkick paige if she didn’t get ice cream with her. both get the same amount of stars. five. she clearly loves annoying her girl.

azzi’s still. for once. fully at peace. her dark curls are still carrying that golden glow from earlier, saltwater and sunshine in the strands. her face, soft. calm. she’s using paige’s shirt as a pillowcase, claiming her actual pillow is “too scratchy for a princess.” paige doesn’t buy it. she calls bullshit, quietly. azzi knows it’s a bad lie, the kind a toddler would tell with too much confidence. but she doesn’t let paige win. not out loud. never has and never will.

she’s mid-page thirty-five. a chapter ending hanging over her head like thunder. she’s bracing herself for the literary version of a jump scare. and then, boom. betrayal. an elbow, soft but real, right to the ribs.

“ow! what the fuck, paige?”

it’s not that it hurt, it’s just the principle.

paige leans in, presses a kiss to her cheek like a band-aid, barely holding back a grin. “sorry,” she says, not even a little sorry.

“you’re not getting my attention,” azzi mutters, eyes back on her book, spine already bent in a way that pisses her off. she glares at it. gently. lovingly. 

but paige? she’s relentless. undefeated. especially in her favorite subject: azzi fudd.

and so, of course, here she goes again.

a blow to the ear. nothing. azzi didn’t even twitch. not even a tiny flinch. she didn’t blink, didn’t acknowledge it. so paige, ever the quick thinker, blinked twice for her, just to fill the silence. waited a beat. then blew another little puff of air into her ear. a little more pressure this time. still, no reaction. 

paige smirks, already knowing what’ll break her.

“az, don’t make me sing,” she warns, voice smooth like she knows what kind of chaos she’s about to unleash.

the second it comes up, azzi freezes. instant flashbacks, paige, off-key, relentless, singing outside her dorm like it was a concert no one was a fan of. except maybe for kk.

her hand hovers over the page of her book, ready to turn it, but not before paige sighs. once. dramatic. and then again, a second time, even more exaggerated.

azzi side-eyes her. doesn’t even look up. buries her face further into the book, pretending this is a lost cause.

paige, on the other hand, lays back, arms stretched out, thinking. brows furrowed as she brainstorms her last-ditch effort. and then, an idea clicks. she smiles, mischievous, as she locks in her plan. here she goes.

she shifts in her sleeping bag, her hair a chaotic mess, still in that messy bun, the one that somehow looks cute no matter how disheveled. her glasses are on, still perched on her nose, for no good reason at all. she's not the one reading, but that’s never stopped her. she inches closer to azzi, invading every inch of her personal space, like she owns it.

with a mischievous grin, she presses the side of her head to azzi’s, just for the sake of it. too close, too loud, she says, “whatcha readin' ” a little too loud, a little too bold.

azzi,  doesn’t even look up. “how to ignore your girlffriend. i’m on step 3.”

paige lets out a laugh, loud and full of life. “well, you clearly failed, didn’t you?”

azzi sighs, shutting her book with a soft shff, like the book exhaled with her. the faint breeze stirs her curls, a halo of soft, frizzed patience. she closes her eyes, counts to 3 like it might keep her from launching paige across the tent.

paige’s fingers are dragging lazy shapes on azzi’s arm, soft, aimless, annoying. azzi doesn’t move, just glances down. of course paige is already looking up at her, all mischief and no shame.

azzi swears paige makes her feel younger. mostly from the constant chaos. paige thinks she’s aging azzi five years a day. probably not wrong.

but really, everyone needs someone unserious-serious. someone who eats slim jims and apple slices at 6am like that’s a personality trait. someone like paige.

azzi hits her with the look. deadpan. “move your ass, big head.”

paige grins like she just won something and shuffles closer, no shame, until they’re fully squished together. human tetris. she drags a hand over azzi’s hip, then up her shoulder, just to be annoying.

“i need to tell you a lil sum,” paige whispers, fake serious.

azzi sighs, head landing on her bicep. “this better not be dumb.”  it’s definitely gonna be dumb.

paige breathes in, out, all slow and methodical like she’s lining up for a free throw. azzi rolls her eyes but can’t hide the grin creeping up.

then, just to throw paige off, azzi threads her fingers through hers, thumb brushing the side of paige’s pinkie. it’s subtle, but she knows it gets to her.

paige’s eyes are locked on azzi’s, those big gold-brown eyes that could probably steal the sun, and she leans in, real close, whispering like it's the most casual thing in the world: “i’m in love-love with you.”

and azzi? she already knows. she hears it every day, loud as hell, so loud paige might as well start putting it on a t-shirt. she kind of already does. azzi just shrugs, looking right back at her with that smug grin. “i’m in love with you too, idiot.”

azzi leans in, presses her lips to paige’s, and god, she can taste that slimmjim from this morning. she pulls back a little, smiling like she’s just been hit with the worst possible thing.

“just when i thought your morning breath couldn’t get worse, it totally did.”

paige’s jaw literally drops. she’s shocked, devastated, not really, but she plays it up. fake annoyance, eyebrows raised. “rude.” but she’s already smiling.

azzi doesn’t let her off the hook though. “you’re not funny,” she says, trying to sound serious but can’t help the laugh bubbling up.

paige smirks, all cocky, "how come you laugh every time then?"

“get your eyes checked,” azzi shoots back, like it’s nothing. like it’s everything.

paige narrows her eyes. “i literally just did, az.”

azzi rolls her eyes, grabbing paige’s glasses off her face. “right, okay,” she mutters, and slides them onto her own face. they’re huge on her, the frames way too wide, and she can barely see a thing. she squints, peering at paige with exaggerated confusion.

“you got like 5 ears and 2 noses’”

paige snorts. “close enough’’ paige thinks if azzi remembers all the moments that led to her needing stronger glasses

and yeah, azzi does. she remembers paige mistaking a mannequin for her at american eagle and gently saying “babe?” like it was normal. the workers still talk about it. she remembers how paige squints at the tv from five feet away until azzi gives in and bumps the subtitles up to grandma-size. she also knows paige still can’t pronounce jewelry. not really related. except it kinda is. they really just move different.

“god, you were a mess without them,” azzi teases. “should get you a guide dog’”

paige gasps, dramatic as hell. “don’t do me like that, az.” but azzi doesn’t need to answer. her eyes do it for her, like they always do. and if there’s one thing about azzi’s eyes, it’s that they don’t lie. never have. not about paige. not about how her ass is cute, even when her mouth says otherwise.

"okay, fine. maybe just a really good pair of glasses," azzi quips, slipping the glasses back on paige's face.

paige rolls her eyes. “you ain’t funny”

the blonde squints at her, blue eyes locked onto azzi’s big brown ones. there’s a familiar gleam there, teasing, smug, just about ready to stir up shit.

“you know what’s real funny,” paige starts, voice low but already grinning.

“hmmm?” azzi says, knowing whatever’s about to come out of paige’s mouth is gonna be stupid. on purpose. like clockwork.

“you talk a lot for someone who wears ankle socks.”

azzi blinks. rolls her eyes, but the dimples give her away. “i literall—”

“—in slides?” paige cuts in, already smug. “bright pink ones.” because of course. it’s azzi fudd.

azzi doesn’t even blink. she fires back, deadpan, “you literally eat slim jims first thing in the morning.”

paige shrugs, totally unbothered. “‘s all protein.”

like that’s a valid excuse. her fingers are now resting on azzi’s waist, slow and casual, tracing those sun-kissed stretch marks like she’s reading a map only she understands. they remind her of jupiter. rings, lines, patterns. beautiful. soft. infinite. like art.

azzi’s eyes flick up, gaze landing on that mosquito bite on paige’s shoulder, the one she told her to stop scratching two days ago. “you think we’re gonna be like this when we’re old?”

paige doesn’t even miss a beat. “old or not, i’m still dropping threes on your ass.”

azzi raises a brow. not amused. not even a little bit. “i meant like, annoying each other.”

and something in paige shifts. her eyes soften. her smile deepens, spreads wide across her face like she doesn’t have control over it. “babe, i’m never gonna stop annoying the shit outta you.”

azzi breaks. she smiles so hard her eyes disappear, scrunching more than her cheeks. she leans in, places a kiss on paige’s lips. warm. unhurried. both of their lips wet now, like it’s the only way they know how to shut each other up.

paige’s fingers never left her waist. still tracing. still adoring. she lowers her head and kisses one of those stretch marks, soft as ever. sacred. like she means it.

azzi leans back slow, paige’s glasses sliding crooked down her nose, fingers adjusting them like she’s stepping into character. except it’s azzi fudd in bright pink ankle socks and a stare that could fry paige on sight.

she hums, voice all light. “can you see me?”

paige doesn’t blink. “nope. i see tim.” deadpan. smooth. too smooth. she’s fighting a smile like her life depends on it.

azzi tilts further back, curls spilling across the pillow they now legally co-own. “what about now?”

paige squints real hard, exaggerating it. “yep. still tim. but like…  hot tim.”

azzi snorts, her dimple popping in that way that makes paige lose track of literally anything else. she leans forward and carefully pushes the glasses back on paige’s face, two fingers on the bridge, slow like she’s done this a thousand times. and she kinda has.

paige bumps their knees together, then grins like a fool. “you got a crush on me or somethin’?” she says it with the same energy as a kid pulling pigtails on the playground.

azzi doesn’t even blink. “you’re literally two days old.”paige gasps. “three actually”

they’re close now. too close. skin pressed against skin under the blanket they swore would fit two people.the pillow smells like azzi’s hair, floral and warm, like that body mist paige secretly sprayed on her hoodie that one time. the corner of the sleeping bag is digging into paige’s side, but she doesn’t move. wouldn’t dare. azzi’s hand is resting low on her stomach, thumb tracing lazy little circles.

azzi’s voice comes out low, playful, soft enough to land straight in paige’s chest. “you’re lucky you’re cute. your jokes suck.”

paige raises a brow, all mock offense and full-smirk. “you just got bad taste.”

azzi rolls her eyes, shifts just a little, lips barely an inch from paige’s ear now. “yeah, in women apparently.”

paige gasps. “you fuckin’ with me?”

azzi thinks, well, yes and also no. ““yyy-no,” her dimples blinding paige.

paige groans. “aight, goodnight,” faking her annoyance.

azzi laughs, “babe, i didn’t mean it.”

paige softens almost instantly, but still rolls her eyes with a smile.

paige’s fingers are in azzi’s curls, the strands still shaped like sleep and soft wind. they spring back gently when she lets go, like even her hair is slow to leave her. her scalp smells like coconut and the grass they laid in earlier, a little sun, a little sweat. it’s dizzying. paige rests her forehead against azzi’s neck, quiet and still, like she’s trying to remember something she used to know by heart.

azzi’s back curves into her like instinct. her shoulders gone syrup-soft, like they’d melted from bone to belief. paige’s chest against her spine. no space left. just warm skin, cotton, and want.

then,

paige leans in, lips grazing just under azzi’s ear. warm breath. slow. then lower, to the slope of her neck. collarbone.

a kiss. another.

her lips are plush, sun-warmed, a little dry from earlier but still wet from their kiss from earlier, but gentle like they know they’re being watched by the universe.

azzi hums, “mmmm.”

like she’s tasting something sweet. like the sound was pulled straight from her ribs.

paige smiles into her skin. “that a good mmm or a go-away mmm?”

azzi doesn’t answer, just hums again, softer this time, drawn out. her fingers reach behind her, brushing paige’s thigh, slow and distracted, like she forgot she was doing it.

paige keeps going. both hands now. slow circles on azzi’s back, like she’s drawing invisible maps to places they haven’t touched yet. her palms drag warm over cotton, thumbs pressing down between her shoulder blades, easing tension she didn’t even know was there.

the skin beneath is hot. not just warm, hot like it’s storing the whole day’s sunlight. she feels the shape of muscle under softness. the slope and dip of her. she wants to memorize it all.

when her fingers finally slip under azzi’s shirt, the touch shifts, bare to bare.

her fingertips are calloused in patches, basketball years worn into her. but they move like water, tracing the leftover round bruises from cupping therapy. soft, reverent. she presses into them gently, not to heal, just to say i care.

azzi’s breath catches. “you okay?” “mmm.”

paige chuckles, voice low, almost velvet. “you gotta start using real words eventually.”

azzi shifts slightly, her hand now resting over paige’s forearm, holding her there. grounding her now.

“this is my real word.”

and her voice is quiet but steady, honey-smooth.

paige kisses the side of her neck again. “kay. then mmm means don’t stop?”

azzi hums again. this time it’s lower. more yes than anything ever written down.

azzi shifts, turns just enough to look paige in the face. into her kind, blue eyes and the freckles that bloom in june, almost shy. she mouths a quiet thank you, and kisses her, gentle and full. her head finds its place again, right where it belongs, nestled against paige’s neck, arms tucked in, safe.

azzi coughs once.

“bro,” paige says immediately, like it’s a code red.

“you’re sick already” azzi grumbles. “don’t start.”

paige tries to deny it, to form a sentence that proves otherwise. but she’s got nothing. it’s true. azzi’s laying on her chest, their legs messily tangled like vines that never cared about neatness.

paige exhales a quiet, “babyy.”

nothing.

“azziiii,” she drags it out, before slipping her hand down to tickle azzi’s side.

it earns her a real laugh from the younger girl. the kind that hits her chest first, then spills out. the one paige mentally bookmarks every time. she’d loop that sound forever if she could. still, nothing beats hearing it live, not even close.

paige kisses the crown of azzi’s curls. voice low. reverent. “i love you, beautiful,”

azzi kisses her cheek and sinks deeper into her chest, eyes fluttering. she finds paige’s hand and weaves their fingers together. “i love you too, fatass,” she whispers.

in azzi fudd’s dictionary, that’s high praise.

paige grins so wide it’s practically a moonrise. “what was that?” even though she absolutely heard it.

azzi doesn’t miss a beat. “i said i love you, fatass.”

“you love my fat ass?” paige teases, dramati c.

azzi doesn’t respond. just shifts again, nestling into the crook of paige’s arm like it was carved for her. paige runs her thumb along azzi’s knuckles where their hands tangle. smooth skin. firm hold.

paige’s arm is numb, but warm under azzi’s weight. she reaches past her, swats at a mosquito. “fuck outta here,” she mumbles, the lamp hot against her fingers.

azzi’s already out, soft breath, parted lips, skin smelling like cheap coconut and lavender. she always says she’ll stop buying that lotion. paige hopes she never does.

her hand finds azzi’s back, drags slow and steady down the curve of it. just once, like a promise. her thoughts, loud a moment ago, settle all at once. everything softens.

she thinks about how tomorrow the pillow will smell like both of them. how it’s gonna be five years, eleven months, and four days since she fell in love with azzi. since she knew.

the number should be staggering, but it isn’t. it’s grounding.

she smiles, just barely, at the thought of forever, the one they promised each other when everything still felt too big to hold. it doesn’t scare her now. the idea that it’ll be kept. that it already is.

that settles into her body too. slowly. from her legs to her chest. it’s comforting in the way only love that’s stayed can be.

and then, finally, she lets go. sleep pulls her under.

with her eye mask on, of course.

[aneertawrites]

Alien!Caleb x Fem!Reader

Orbiting You

Chapter 2

a/n : LMFAOOO SORRY IM BACK IDK IF THATS GONNA BE FOR SURE THO PLS DONT HATE ME IM SO BUSY 🙏🏻

The figure jolted back, hands lifting immediately in the universal don’t-kill-me posture.

“Wait—It’s not—wait! Wait!”

“Oh my God,” you snapped, eyes wide, rock still aimed at his face. “Were you just smelling me?!”

There was a pause.

A guilty silence.

“…Okay, yes, technically—but not in a weird way!”

“Oh, really?” you hissed. “Because crouching over a sleeping person like a space cryptid and sniffing them is actually textbook weird where I’m from!”

“I was checking to see if you were alive!”

“By sniffing me?!”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?!”

You blinked, then blinked again, trying to decide if this was real or just your brain short-circuiting from starvation. You hadn’t heard another voice — any voice — in six days, let alone one this close. And it spoke your language, too. Well… it spoke through the translator chip. But still. That counted.

The figure — male, by the sound of his voice, and clearly not human, though you refused to process the full details of his face yet — was still kneeling awkwardly, hands raised like you were holding a plasma rifle instead of a dirty rock.

“I thought you were dead,” he said, quieter now. “Your breathing was shallow. And you weren’t… moving.”

“Yeah, that’s called sleep, we tend to do that sometimes,” you said, finally lowering your makeshift weapon, though you didn’t drop it. “What do you want?”

He hesitated. “I’ve been… following you.”

“Oh, great. A stalker and a sniffer.”

“It’s not like that!” he said quickly, then stopped himself and visibly recalibrated his tone. “Look. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ve just been… making sure you survived.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Why?”

Another pause.

He sighed, and for a moment he sounded just as tired as you felt. “Because you’re not supposed to be out here alone. You’ll die.”

“Not if I smell too bad, apparently,” you muttered.

A reluctant laugh escaped him — low and awkward, like he wasn’t used to people saying things that weren’t 100% serious.

You watched him carefully, pulse still racing, every muscle in your body ready to snap into action. But he didn’t move. Didn’t come closer. Just sat there like some awkward, overgrown wilderness guide who happened to catch you mid-breakdown.

“Do you know how long I’ve been out here?” you asked.

He nodded. “Six days.”

“…You were counting?”

“I was tracking.”

“Okay, that’s not less creepy.”

“I didn’t want to interfere unless you were dying.”

“And you thought smelling me was the line?”

“I panicked, alright?! You looked really… not-alive.”

Despite the adrenaline still coursing through you, your lip twitched.

You sat there in silence for a few heartbeats, the rock still in your hand, your body still strung tight as a bowstring — but your mind finally processing that, for the first time since you escaped, someone was talking to you instead of at you.

You sighed. “You can’t just sniff people.”

“I’ll make a note of that,” he said seriously, then added under his breath, “Earthling rules are weird.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Are you going to kill me?”

“No.”

“Take me back?”

“No.”

“Then what do you want?”

He shifted, lowering his hands and folding them in his lap. “To help.”

You stared at him. You didn’t trust him. You didn’t even know him. But after six days of isolation, of scraping by, of gnawing hunger and splintering exhaustion… something about the honesty in his voice hit different.

“You’re still on thin ice, Sniffer.”

“…Understood.”

You exhaled slowly, then dropped the rock to the ground between you with a quiet thud.

“Good. Because I’m not in the mood to die stupid.”

“Noted,” he said. “Neither am I.”

You sat there, still not moving closer, still not letting yourself relax — but just for a moment, the forest didn’t feel like it was closing in.

You shifted your weight just slightly, one hand still hovering near your pile of essentials — mostly rocks, torn cloth, and a scorched hunk of root you were calling “breakfast.” The alien hadn’t moved since his awkward confession, but your instincts still screamed that this was too weird, too sudden, too much.

You squinted at him. “Alright… if we’re doing this whole not murdering each other thing, then I need something to call you besides ‘Sniffer.’”

He tilted his head. “My name is—” He said something that sounded like someone knocking over a metal tray full of consonants.

You blinked.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Did you just have a stroke?”

He blinked right back. “I said my name.”

“You did not. That was a sound effect.”

He repeated it, slower this time, enunciating. Except the “C” sound he started with had a sort of sharp-click-hiss thing happening in the back of his throat, followed by a tone your brain couldn’t even process as language. You were ninety percent sure the translator chip short-circuited trying to make sense of it.

You stared at him like he’d just offered you a handful of screws and called it trail mix.

“Okay, yeah, no. Not happening. I’m not about to bust a vocal cord every time I need to yell for help. You’re Caleb now.”

His brows furrowed — or what you assumed were his brows, given the faint movement on his face. “Caleb?”

“Yep. Classic Earth name. Easy. Gets the job done.”

“That is not even close to—”

“I don’t care,” you said, already waving a hand dismissively. “You show up in my shelter uninvited and sniff me like some space bloodhound? You lose name privileges.”

Caleb opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, then shut it. Thought about it. Nodded slowly.

“…Caleb,” he said, as if testing it. “Is this… an insult?”

“It can be,” you said with a shrug, “but only if you earn it.”

He looked skyward — or at least upward — and let out a long exhale. You weren’t sure if it was frustration or resignation. Maybe both.

“I will… accept this compromise,” he said eventually, in the overly formal tone of someone who wasn’t used to being told no.

“Damn right you will,” you muttered, grabbing your rock-knife and running a thumb along the edge. Still sharp enough to pretend you were dangerous.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, and it was the first time you fully allowed yourself to take his appearance in.

Shimmering skin, looking like a mix between pale and olive depending on how the light hit — and the most enchanting sunset-looking eyes you’d ever seen. It was then that you realised that his eyes were a little larger than normal human’s eyes would be.

So were his muscles. Fuck…

Hold on, you thought, I recognise that frame—

“So…” Caleb started, snapping you out of your thoughts, “what’s your name?”

You hesitated.

You hadn’t heard your own name in days. It felt foreign now — like something that belonged to another person, someone softer, someone who hadn’t run barefoot through a toxic forest, boiled alien water, or threatened a stranger with a rock.

But the question was fair.

You gave it to him — short and clipped, wary but not hostile.

Caleb nodded, repeating it back to you with surprisingly decent pronunciation. “Good. I’ll remember it.”

“You better,” you said. “I’m the one with the rock.”

There was a flicker of something on his face — amusement, maybe. You weren’t sure. It was subtle, but it made the air between you feel a little less like it might break under pressure.

You leaned back, letting the tension in your spine ease just enough to sit without pain. The forest was still humming. The glowing moss cast faint shadows along the ground. Somewhere in the distance, a tree let out a long, low creak that didn’t sound entirely natural.

“So what now?” you asked after a beat.

Caleb tilted his head again. “Now… I help you not die.”

You eyed him.

“…Not a great sales pitch.”

“I can work on it.”

You snorted — a small, tired, genuine thing. Then you wrapped your arms around your knees and leaned into the fire’s dying warmth.

CALEB

The fire popped quietly, a soft crackle breaking the silence as he shifted another dry stick into the embers. It was a careful motion — practiced. He made sure to keep the flames low, just enough to stave off the cold creeping through the undergrowth but not so much that they’d draw attention.

He didn’t like fire. It made him feel too visible.

But she needed it. And right now, that was what mattered.

She was curled a few feet away, wrapped in that ridiculous blanket she’d fashioned out of silver insulation and a layer of wide forest leaves. Her face was slack in sleep — a rarity, from what he’d seen. Most nights she twitched, gritted her teeth, whimpered low in her throat like her body was bracing for pain even in unconsciousness.

Not tonight.

Tonight, she was still.

Caleb sat back on his heels and watched her for a moment longer than he should have. Then even longer still.

The heat came first — deep in his chest, not from the fire, but from somewhere inside. Like a slow burn beneath his sternum. Not pain. Just… awareness. Pressure. A feeling like his body was tuning itself toward something it couldn’t name.

He exhaled through his nose and turned his gaze back to the fire.

It was the third night in a row it had happened.

Always when she was asleep. Always when the forest was quiet. Always when her scent got stronger in the air — earthy and strange, tinged with the wild things she’d passed through, but still hers.

His fingers twitched against his knee.

She smelled like heat. Like skin. Like something primal that pulled at him without his permission.

He’d never experienced anything like it.

Their species had been dying for generations. Reproduction had slowed. Bonds had become rarer, weaker, more scientific than sacred. The old stories of mates were regarded more as myth now — relics of a biology no one could replicate. The emotional tie, the instinctual call between two beings — it was considered extinct.

So whatever this was…

It couldn’t be that.

It wasn’t that.

He reached for another piece of wood, a little too quickly. It slipped through his fingers. He swore under his breath, caught it, then sat rigid for a second, watching her shift slightly at the noise.

But she didn’t wake.

Of course she didn’t. She was exhausted. Her body was eating itself just to keep moving. He could hear it in the shallowness of her breathing, the way her muscles twitched even in sleep. She was running on fumes. She should’ve collapsed two days ago, and yet she was still here — still fighting, still moving forward like she had no right to.

She was… resilient.

That was the word he kept coming back to.

Resilient, and stubborn, and clever in a way that didn’t always make sense to him — wrapping her feet in moss to cushion her torn shoes, tying her hair with vines, muttering curses under her breath like they were a shield.

And then there was her scent.

He dragged in another slow inhale before he could stop himself.

It filled his head like heat haze. Disoriented him. Centered him.

Goddess, he swore silently, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.

This wasn’t good. He needed to be focused. She was vulnerable — half-starved and surrounded by threats she couldn’t even see yet. His purpose was clear: protect, observe, report if necessary. Nothing more.

And yet…

She’d given him a name.

Caleb.

It wasn’t even close to his true name. His designation hadn’t had a proper vowel in it for nearly eighty years. But she’d assigned him something human, something short and sharp and hers. She said it with a roll of her eyes and a mouth stained orange from the bulbs she roasted too long. She wielded it like a joke, but something about the way it sounded when she said it…

It stuck.

And now, here he was, kneeling by a fire he didn’t want to make, watching over a human he wasn’t supposed to care about, feeling a burn in his chest that no one on Zyrephar had felt in over a century.

It’s just stress, he told himself.

Biological curiosity. You’ve never seen a human before. You’re projecting.

But still… he stayed.

Long after the fire faded to embers. Long after the night sounds of the forest rose and fell around them like a dark tide.

He stayed.

Watching her.

Listening to her breathe.

You woke up to the sound of your stomach growling so loudly you were sure the forest gods had finally given up and let something inside you die.

You sat up too fast and immediately regretted it — your vision swam, head throbbing with dehydration and hunger. Your limbs felt like wet cement, each joint protesting even the thought of motion. The fire had burned down to a dull heap of ash and ember, casting a faint orange glow on your makeshift shelter. It had gotten cold during the night — not freezing, but enough that the ache in your fingers had made its way deep into your bones.

Across from you, Caleb crouched low and still, tending to the dying fire. Of course he’d been up before you. You were starting to suspect he didn’t sleep.

You pressed a hand to your stomach as it gave another rumbling protest, louder this time — vulgar, almost comical if you didn’t feel so close to blacking out.

Caleb looked up immediately, eyes tracking the source of the noise like it was a predator.

“You require sustenance,” he said plainly.

You blinked at him. “Wow. Nothing gets past you.”

He stood with that eerie, fluid grace of his — like a deer in human shape — and offered a hand, which you ignored. He didn’t seem offended. Instead, he just gestured lazily toward the edge of the clearing.

“I can take you to my dwelling,” he said, like he was offering you a glass of water. “There is food. Clean water. Shelter.”

You stared at him.

“Come again?”

“I can take you to—”

“No, no, I heard you,” you interrupted, eyes widening. “Are you seriously telling me you’ve had a stocked pantry and a roof this entire time and didn’t think to bring it up?!”

Caleb frowned, confused by your tone. “You didn’t ask.”

You blinked. Slowly. Very slowly.

“Caleb.”

“Yes?”

“I have been boiling moss water and chewing on alien roots for six days.”

He tilted his head. “You seemed capable. And they’re not alien roots, they’re Tzyk—”

“Oh my God.”

You stumbled to your feet, rage and fatigue making your body wobble like a newborn foal. You pointed a shaky finger at him. “I’ve been out here fighting for my life, and you were just watching? Judging? Just waiting for me to… what? Die artistically?”

He furrowed his brow. “I didn’t want to intrude.”

You let out a noise — part laugh, part wheeze. “You sniffed me in my sleep.”

“That was… different.”

You threw your hands in the air. “I cannot deal with this logic right now. Lead the way. If I don’t eat something in the next fifteen minutes, I will eat you.”

He blinked once, a furious blush covering the expanse of his mid face, “I don’t believe that’s—”

“Move, Caleb.”

He moved.

The journey through the forest was slower this time, and quieter. You didn’t have the strength for sarcastic quips, and he didn’t seem inclined to fill the silence. You trudged behind him, arms wrapped around your midsection, trying not to cry at the thought of actual food.

About twenty minutes in, you finally opened your mouth, needing a distraction.

“So… what’s school like here?”

Caleb glanced back at you, visibly surprised by the question.

“Do you mean for males or females?”

You blinked. “You have separate systems?”

“Yes. Female education is focused on governance, diplomacy, law, and interstellar negotiation. Many are assigned leadership paths from a young age. Males… it depends.”

“Let me guess,” you muttered. “You all train to be warlords or engineers or something.”

“No,” he said simply. “I went to husbandry school.”

You stopped walking.

“You went to what?”

He paused, turned around, and repeated himself. “Husbandry.”

You stared at him, deadpan. “Like… farming?”

“No. Like… being a husband.”

You just gaped at him. “That’s an actual thing?”

“It’s the most prestigious male track.”

“I—what?!”

Caleb shifted uncomfortably, as if uncertain whether you were mocking him. “We are trained to be ideal partners. Emotionally balanced. Practical. Skilled. Our society has limited females, so the expectation is that males compete for bonding eligibility.”

You were blinking so hard your eyes were dry. “So wait. You… studied how to be a good boyfriend?”

Caleb narrowed his eyes, very obviously only familiar with the idea of marriage. “What’s a boyfriend?”

You waved a dismissive hand, to which he took as an opportunity to puff his chest out in pride like a peacock. “I graduated top of my class.”

You snorted.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh no, I’m not laughing at you,” you said quickly. “I just—this is a lot.”

“I was certified in twelve culinary disciplines,” he continued matter-of-factly. “I scored highest in domestic systems, child-rearing theory, and emotional de-escalation. I also completed advanced modules in sexual proficiency.”

You nearly tripped over your own feet. “Sorry, what now?”

He didn’t even flinch. “Physical intimacy is an important component of successful mating. Our instructors evaluate our performance during simulated encounters.”

Your mouth opened and closed like a dying fish. “You’re telling me you graded in sex class?”

“Yes.”

“With tests?”

“Simulations. Partners, if permitted.”

You stared at him.

He added, “I received perfect scores in oral technique.”

You walked directly into a low-hanging branch.

“Should I not have said that?” he asked genuinely.

“Oh, we are absolutely not discussing that right now,” you muttered, pushing past him. “I asked about school. I didn’t ask for your… space Tinder profile.”

“I don’t understand half those words,” he said, following calmly, “but you seem distressed.”

“I’m not distressed. I’m starving, Caleb. Keep walking.”

He nodded, brushing past you. “As you command,” he leaned down, his breath fanning teasingly against your ear. “I can smell you.”

You shrieked, mortified, pushing him away — ordering him to lead the way and be quiet.

You knew it before you saw it.

The subtle shift in the trees.

The unnatural evenness of the terrain.

The scent — soft and strange, something warm and metallic threaded with herbs.

Caleb paused just ahead, half-turned toward you, eyes flicking over your expression like he was already trying to read your reaction. You stepped out of the dense forest and—

Yeah, no. ‘Dwelling’ didn’t cover it.

You’d expected a hut, maybe. A moss-covered dome, or a cave, or some bachelor pad carved out of a tree stump.

What you got was something else entirely.

The structure before you was smooth and curved, almost organic in the way it rose from the ground. The exterior gleamed like polished bone, catching the faint golden glow of Zyrephar’s twin moons. Intricate patterns were carved into the outer walls — not symmetrical, but flowing, like wind etched into stone. The roof shimmered faintly with a coating of something you couldn’t place — not quite metal, not quite glass.

It was quiet. Peaceful. A little surreal.

And, to your absolute betrayal, gorgeous.

You stopped walking without realizing it.

Caleb didn’t say anything. But when you turned your head sharply to look at him, his face was neutral — too neutral. Except for his mouth, which twitched at the corners in a way he very much tried to suppress.

“You’re grinning,” you accused.

“I am not.”

“You are. You look like a smug little—”

“I’m pleased it meets your standards,” he said calmly, but his slightly pointed ears flushed.

“You live here?” you asked, as if the house might belong to some other alien named Caleb who had also gone to husband school.

“I built it.”

“Oh, of course you did.” You rubbed your temple. “Let me guess. You were top of your class in alien architecture, too?”

He shrugged modestly. “Second. My ceilings were considered emotionally over-stimulating.”

You turned back to the house, shook your head slowly, then whispered, “What the hell is this planet?”

He said nothing, just led you to the entrance, which opened without him touching it — just a soft whoosh like the walls had sighed in recognition.

The inside was even worse. Or… better. Whatever.

Everything was smooth and warm to the touch, all soft golden lights and low hums, like the house was alive and happy to see him. The floor felt strangely soft beneath your ruined shoes, and even the air smelled different in here — like heat, citrus, and something faintly floral.

The space wasn’t cluttered, but it wasn’t cold either. You spotted shelves stacked with strange instruments, woven blankets, a few framed etchings along the walls — one of which you realized, belatedly, was a Zyrepharian female, her face sharp and regal, locked mid-laugh.

It was the kind of space someone builds when they expect to share it.

“You’re staring again,” Caleb said behind you, voice low and amused.

You snapped your gaze away from the walls. “Sorry. I’ve just never seen anything like this before.”

He moved past you, headed toward the kitchen — or what you assumed was the kitchen, based on the counter and the array of gleaming tools that you were pretty sure could either cook food or perform surgery.

“I’ll prepare something now,” he said, already rolling up the sleeves of his thin tunic. “There is a bathing chamber down the hall — first door on the right. You should wash.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Your core temperature is low. You’re shaking. A bath will restore circulation, and cleanse potential pathogens from your—” He paused, looking you over in that way that made your skin crawl and blush all at once. “From your… everything.”

You narrowed your eyes. “So what, you’re telling me I stink?”

He didn’t flinch. “Yes.”

“Wow. Romantic.”

Caleb’s eyes widened a fraction, his shoulders tightening as he let out an awkward chuckle. “You’ll be more comfortable afterward. I’ll lay out clothing for you. Go.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but a sharp pain twisted in your back, and your shoulders felt like cracked stone. The smell of food — something spicy, sharp, and almost familiar — was already drifting through the space.

You were exhausted, starving, and the idea of hot water was suddenly the most erotic thing you’d thought of in days.

“Fine,” you muttered. “But if you lock the door while I’m in there, I swear to God—”

“I would never.”

You gave him one last squint, just in case, and turned toward the hallway.

Behind you, you heard something sizzle in a pan. Heard him hum — quietly, low in his throat — some melody that didn’t belong to Earth but still made your stomach twist.

And Caleb, still facing the stove, let his lips curl upward in a smile he didn’t let you see.

You didn’t speak for the first fifteen minutes of eating.

You couldn’t.

Your body had gone nearly limp from the shock of finally being warm, clean, and fed. The bath Caleb had insisted on had nearly made you weep — real, hot water that steamed up the walls and soaked the wild out of your skin. The clothes he’d left you were strange, loose in places and snug in others, made from a material that shimmered faintly and adjusted to your temperature the moment it touched your skin. But the food?

It was the final blow.

Your knees had almost buckled when the scent hit you. Savory and rich, spiced with something warm and unfamiliar, layered with roasted herbs and something slightly sweet that reminded you of cinnamon and smoke.

You were halfway through your second bowl now. Caleb sat across from you, chewing methodically. You hadn’t said a word since sitting down. Neither had he.

He was quiet like a man used to silence — or at least respectful of it. He didn’t look impatient or uncomfortable, didn’t ask if you were okay or try to break the quiet with small talk. Instead, he watched your bowl, making sure it never ran empty.

When he finally spoke, it was only after you slowed down, licking sauce off your spoon like an addict trying to savor their last hit.

“I used too much saproot,” he said, more to himself than to you. “It’s making your tongue tingle.”

You blinked. “…That’s not poison?”

“No.”

“Could’ve mentioned that earlier.”

“I wanted to see if you’d notice.”

You gave him a deadpan stare. “You’re unhinged.”

He tilted his head. “That word doesn’t translate precisely, but I will assume you meant it as an endearment.”

You choked on your stew.

He didn’t smile — not fully — but there was a hint of smugness at the corners of his mouth, that same subtle glimmer you’d seen when he caught you gawking at his home earlier.

You set your spoon down with a sigh, your belly full but your mind buzzing with unfinished questions. You stared at your empty bowl, watching the broth swirl at the bottom as you asked:

“How did you find me?”

He stopped eating, only for a moment, then set his utensils down with a soft clink.

“I tracked your group through the forest,” he said. “I was part of the operation to intercept the extraction before it reached the port cities.”

“Extraction,” you repeated flatly. “Like cargo.”

He didn’t deny it.

You felt your stomach twist again — and not from the saproot.

“I thought…” You frowned. “I thought those people were your government. The ones at the facility. They looked official. They had uniforms. Medical labs. Hell, they even had translator tech.”

Caleb’s face shifted slightly, just a tight pull at his jaw. “They were part of what used to be the central military, before the reforms. Before the purges.”

“Purges?”

He nodded. “When it was revealed what they were doing — the experiments, the abductions — the High Council severed all association. Many of them fled. Others… went underground. They became a cell. Hidden. Dangerous. Powerful still, but fractured. That’s who took you.”

Your lips parted slightly. “You mean to tell me I got kidnapped by some intergalactic fringe cult?”

“They weren’t always fringe,” he said, voice cold now. “They were once the leaders. The ones who were supposed to protect us. They used the extinction of our females as an excuse to violate everything.”

The words lingered in the room, heavy and brutal.

“And humans?” you asked. “We were just… what? A quick fix?”

“You were the closest compatible genetic match,” Caleb said, eyes darkening. “And females of your kind… you can carry.”

“Jesus.” You rubbed your face. “And all those girls… still out there?”

“Many were rescued. A few… not yet.”

Your heart sank, thinking of the girls who had cried beside you in the holding cells. The ones who had been too quiet. The ones who stopped screaming after the first day.

“So why you?” you asked, after a beat. “Why were you sent in to get us?”

“I wasn’t sent,” he said simply. “I volunteered.”

That stopped you.

You looked at him slowly, trying to read the shift in his face, but it was too guarded, too blank.

“Why?”

“I owed a debt,” he said after a pause. “To the females of our race. To the ones we failed.”

You didn’t say anything for a while. You just sat there, staring at the strange glow of the fire embedded in the corner of the kitchen wall, letting the truth of all of it simmer at the base of your brain.

The bath. The food. The translator chip in his neck. The ‘husbandry school.’

You hated how your body relaxed in this place. How your mind started to trick you into thinking it was safe.

After a long pause, you forced the question out.

“…Is there a way back?”

Caleb didn’t answer right away.

He exhaled slowly, like the question had hit somewhere deep in his ribs.

“There are portals. Or… there were.” He kept his voice even. “Most were destroyed after the first war. The others were sealed after the exposure of the trafficking operations. It will be… a long time. Before they open again. If they ever do.”

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

“So I’m stuck.”

He didn’t correct you.

The silence stretched again, but it was different now. Thicker. Like fog settling in, blurring the edges of everything that had felt clear just moments before.

You got up slowly, hands tightening on the edge of the table.

“I’m going to bed,” you murmured.

Caleb stood as well, like instinct. “The room on the left. The lights will dim when you enter.”

You nodded, already turning, but then paused halfway down the hall.

You didn’t look at him as you asked, softly:

“Would you have still come for me… if it wasn’t your job?”

He was quiet. Not cold — just searching for the words. Or maybe fighting them.

Finally, his voice came low and clear behind you.

“Yes.”

You swallowed hard.

“…Why?”

You heard him shift, but no steps followed. No movement closer.

“I don’t know yet,” he said. “But I will.”

masterlist

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[beanarie]

@bucktommywhumpweek days 2-3 ptsd, abandonment issues, following from day 1 here

Buck dreams of Bobby, because even when it's not about Bobby, it is, and that is why he's been spending as little time in bed as possible. Eventually, he opens his eyes, and recoils at the sound of an artificial shutter.

"Sorry!" he hears. "Maddie ordered me to text her when you woke up and this seemed like the most efficient way to give her the news."

Buck drags his eyes over to the visitor's chair, and the person he still expects to be sitting there vanishes. In his place is-

"Josh? What-"

"Hey, Buck," Josh says with a regretful smile. "Bobby's running a temperature, so Maddie asked me to come. How are you feeling?"

Buck should be used to it by now. That's his nephew; he hears his name all the time. But it makes him flinch all the same. He looks down at the bright white cast on his leg. This doesn't track. He was just expecting a boot. "Did I get admitted, for a fracture in my foot?"

"Yeah." Josh gives a sympathetic frown. "I was told you helped with an unruly patient and things got hairy when they went critical. You were unconscious for a while."

"Tommy?" Buck says, breathless.

"Do you, uh." Josh wiggles his phone. "Want me to call him? I don't have his number, but I could get it from Chimney. Or-"

"He's here," Buck says.

"Oh! That's funny. I didn't see him on my way in. So he what, grabbed something at the Panera downstairs? He's been gone a wh-"

"No, he's. He's-" Buck's throat is sealing shut. Tommy stopped breathing. There's a chance that as staff loaded Buck onto another gurney, a few feet away someone else was calling the time of death.

"Wait. Oh. Buck? Are you s..." His voice trails off. "Tommy was the other patient." Josh's eyes double in size. "Okay." He pats Buck's arm. "Listen. I'll see what I can find out."

"Th-Thanks."

Halfway to the door, Josh stops and turns his head. "What was his last name again?"

"Kinard."

He waves behind him. "Right. Got it."

Buck closes his eyes, opens them again, and Josh is back.

"So the news isn't great," he says, then he raises his hand. "Buck. He's alive. Sorry, I should've led with that. He was in respiratory arrest, but they reinflated his lung and put in a chest tube. He's now in the ICU."

"Y-You're not a family member. How did you-"

Josh scoffs. "Are you kidding? I'm the guy responsible for making sure they don't get slammed. Half the people in this building owe me a favor. The other half do, too, but I let them live in ignorance."

Buck scrambles for the control to his bed and raises it to a sitting position. "Can you help me get up to see him?"

Josh sits, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Can we talk about you for a second?"

Buck stops picking at the tape securing his IV. "W-What?"

"They told me you got a nice break in your lower tibia to go with the one in your metatarsal, so you passed out from the pain."

"Okay," Buck mutters, distantly registering that his time on the injured list just doubled. That's a problem for another day.

"You stayed out because you are exhausted and dehydrated. There are better ways to ask this, but I'll just go with a simple 'what happened'?"

Buck rubs at his forehead.

"Buck?"

"Bad dreams. I keep waking- waking up and I- I- I- have to get outta bed because if I don't, I go right back into it. So I've been working out a- a- lot, m-mostly in the middle of the night."

Josh looks like Buck just told him his puppy got cancer.

"It helps," Buck insists. "Sometimes I tire myself out enough that I go back to- back to sleep and don't dream. What else am I gonna do? It was working."

It's not like he could call anyone. Maddie and Chim have their hands full with the baby. Hen needs her rest almost as much as they do. He never bothered her if he could help it, anyway. And Eddie, Buck is trying not to ask Eddie for things. Partly to see if Eddie even notices, which he knows, he knows is not healthy. But he can't help it. Withdrawing with a smile seems to be the best of both worlds. No one has yelled at him in weeks.

Josh takes a breath, then closes his mouth and seems to rethink. "How bad have the headaches been?"

"Manageable," Buck mumbles. "I've been drinking a lot of triple-shot lattes."

"Putting your caffeine dependency on steroids is always a great way to deal with your head hurting," Josh says dryly.

Buck can't begin to address that right now. He was managing, as he said. "Am I on a hold, or c-can I go?"

Josh gives him that cancer-puppy look again. "No, Buck, you're not on a hold. I'm just concerned about you."

Which means Maddie will be concerned. Buck has no time for that. "Tommy almost died. Help me get to him, okay?"

[chongoblog]

[Blocked] for Your Sanity Analysis

In light of Deltarune today, I thought I'd look back on a mashup I made when Chapter 2 dropped, that being [Blocked] For Your Sanity.

So if we don't count the backing track of BIG SHOT, this song uses 12 different audio sources. Thats roughly 1 new sample every 12 seconds (a pretty good pace. Side note: I'm gonna have to look into the mashup rates of some of my other mashups, just because I love Numbers)

Of these 12 samples, I can cite specific reasons for adding almost every single one of them! The only one I can't think of is "Mambo No. 5", which I think ended up being added because the melodic rhythm lined up well (similar to HHGregg in Mad Rat Purgatory).

So first, we can clear a lot of these in one, because this mashup is actually a direct sequel! If you didn't know, I mad a mashup with "NOWS YOUR CHANCE TO BE A" called "[Blocked] For Your Safety". And every song that was used in Safety is reused here. Those songs being "I Want You", "Mo' Money, Mo' Problems", "Wannabe", and "Macarena". All of those were chosen because all four of them were on the Billboard Year-End Top 100 List for [[1997]].

So that's 4 songs out of the way! We can eliminate a few more by looking back at previous mashups, mostly at Behindtale. "You Spin Me Right Round" and HHGregg were included as a reference to THE JAM REVOLVING (with HHGregg getting special attention due to this coming out a few months after Mad Rat Monday). Some people in the comments speculated that it was some kind of reference to Spamton's character and how it's not too dissimilar to Mad Rat's in a way, and while that wasn't the intent, it's a fascinating perspective. THIS is the kind of shit that makes me love what I do. I plant the seed that you can analyze mashups for a deeper meaning. Then you have people who see that deeper meaning, even where you didn't intend to, giving them a deeper and sometimes even more personal connection to the music. FUCK I love creating. Anyway, "The Hero!!" and "Anthropology" were added as references to Pony! and Power of a Punch from Behindtale, since the motifs from Undertale re-emerge in this theme.

And on this note I want to take a moment to say that I'm frothing at the mouth to one day make a Deltarune album. Because Toby's use of motifs gels REALLY well with my style of mashups. I'm not sure when I would do it or how I would arrange it all, but I wanna make it happen (along with all the other stuff I wanna do aaaaaaaaa)

So that leaves 3 more songs, which are meant to reflect Spamton specifically, and his feeling of being trapped. "I've Got No Strings" is the clearest puppet allegory I could find in a song (I know Master of Puppets exists, but a Master Spamton is not). "This is Gospel" is a song that functionally works really well in mashups because its chorus is mostly one long held word, so you don't have to worry about it making the lead vocals confusing. But for this one it works doubly well, since the lyrics heard are "LET ME GO". And finally, "Locked Out Of Heaven" is almost punishingly fitting for Spamton.

That's the reasoning out of the way. In terms of production notes, you can start to see a more remix-inspired style start to really rise up with this mashup. A lot of the audio tracks are cut down and have small bits repeated (most notably, Wannabe, Macarena, and I Want You). Someone in the comments pointed out that at 1:55 there are 4 songs playing over each other and it still works! The repetition is part of what makes this work so well! I start by looping "I need you, I want you", which is a very simple loop. Once you have that going for a couple loops, the listener gets it, and since the loop is like half a second, you're SPEEDRUNNING that familiarity. Then I do the same thing with "Mambo No. 5", which I put on top of the melody playing. This acts to sort of place Mambo No. 5 as part of the backing track.

You see, my theory with mashups is that when people generally listen to a song, they subconsciously divide it into its musicality and its lyrics. The musicality side of the brain is abstract and can absorb a good bit, especially if you build on it over time (with overlaying melodies and such). The lyrical side of your brain is less talented, because if you try to tell it two new sets of words at the same time, its a bit too much. The tradeoff is that it makes a of of this kind of analysis, so I guess it levels out. So how do you make it so that you can play a bunch of songs at once without the lyric side going into a fit? That's where the repetition comes in! If you can get a phrase to repeat enough, then the lyric side of your brain sorta goes "okay, yeah I got that. There's not much by new information to worry about" and it sort of moves it over to the musicality half of the brain to process. At that point it doesn't process what it's saying, but it doesn't need to. You already know. And the best part is that musicality half LOVES it when you can seamlessly put familiar stuff with other familiar stuff (it's why mashups are so fun in the first place). That way you can add lyrics bit by bit, and suddenly you have three people singing at once, but you can still make sense of it!

I'll probably share some finer technical tips for how to do that stuff in a future post, but this one's gone on for quite a bit already

[palaxy27]

MORE ABOUT DREAM TEAM PLUSHIES!!

People tel me l'm a monster for making Sashi suffer (and I don't regret it hehehe 😈)

So what do you think about talking about something more cute?

THE PLUSHIES!!!!!🔥🔥🔥

(And why they are alive and live in the protagonist dimention)

WARNING: long post Iol‼️

● So are they part of my AU or main story

I ...don't really know 😅

I draw them more as entertainment or random things, and while they appear in the main story videos, the fact that they're alive or are normal plushies would be a matter for the person

But for know i dont know yet

• why do the protagonists' plush forms coexist with them and why live together?

Simple (it isn't)

If you remember in Trading Faces, Rippen and Larry swapped bodies due to a portal failure

Something similar happened here, When Penn Sashi and Boone finished a mission in the Plush World, the same thing would happen, but instead of swapping bodies, what they did was create a duplicate of their plush forms with the appearance and personalities they had in the series and take them out of the portal along with the team in their normal forms (the original plushies from the Plush World are fine)

This also happened to Rippen and Larry, but instead of their baby forms, they were with two random characters who were near them

The cat: rippen 🐱

The elephant: larry 🐘

Initially, they are clearly confused and don't know what to do. Phillyps, in order not to jeopardize the secret of the portals and dimensions, as well as to avoid causing people to panic by seeing living stuffed animals, makes the smartest decision:

They each take care of the plushies just seconds after meeting them, without knowing if they are truly dangerous or not, and without their parents' consent 😀👍

Of course!!

ISNT THE GREAT PLAN EVER??!!😀

The dream team, in order not to lose their sanity (as Boone said and later being true 😅🤣), decided that each one would be the main caretaker of each plushie based on their respective forms in the stuffed animal world and that each weekend it would be one's turn to take care of the three (later, much, much later, lol, when they start to get attached, they would exchange plushies for a short time and not so frequently)

● How did their parents react?

Their parents clearly weren't happy or convinced but they didn't have much choice either (the plishies used their ✨️✨️ charm ✨️✨️) each one reacts differently. Penn's parents were touched by the way the plushie existed, sashi's were worried about the cat not because he would hurt the plushie but the other way around!! 😰 (sashi plushie never hurt him, they're friends :3 the real sashi is the only person apart from thieves, villains, rippen and larry who is aggressive) and boone's parentswere equally delighted but when the plushie boone wanted to give him a hug he accidentally ran his dad's hair because of the stickers on his hands 😭😭😭

● MEANWHILE RIPPEN AND LARRY PLUSHIES!!

The same thing happened to them. taking care of their plushies forms, Larry was delighted 🥰 but rippen...

First he left it on the fish stick on a stick 😑

Plushie rippen followed him :3

Rippen tried to get rid of it by throwing it in a trash can 😮

Plushie rippen left there and followed him :3

Rippen threw it into the sea!! 😬

Plushie rippen knows how to swim well, he went out and followed him :3

RIPPEN FED UP!!! TIED HIM TO THE TRAIN TRACKS WITH CHAINS! 😨

Plushie rippen was easily untied because they were badly placed, it was arranged vertically so that the train's wheels wouldn't do anything to it, it came off the rails and followed him :3

When rippen got to his apartment he gave up and let him stay

and plushie rippen slept with freddy

Rippen:

● Now finally, how do the stuffed animals interact with their counterparts?

PENN PLUSHIE: with Penn he gets along mostly well, sometimes Penn gets irritated with his arrogant and conceited attitude (unlike the real one it's not that common) until he realizes that he is the same (he thinks it's his karma xd), with Boone he is the same, he is affectionate and when Boone is depressed or scared, he approaches him to hug him or just to be petted, he also goes to him when an arm or another part of his body falls off as usual, so that Boone can sew it up, with Sashi he is much more affectionate, he is always on his side, they play together, in general nice things 🥰 with rippen, the same as always lol, it bothers him, I try to play a joke on him (it didn't work), it drives him crazy etc

BOONE PLUSHIE: with boone they are very close, they understand each other well and it seems that boone knows what the plushie thinks or wants (although they do not speak the same language), he helps a lot at home surprisingly (initially as an apology for what happened with his father but with the passage of time and solving the problem now he does it only because he wants to), with penn it is the same but he is more direct when penn is wrong, normally he listens to him whether in everyday things, about sashi, his parents, problems, etc. just to accompany him and make him feel comfortable and he is also the main model (apart from sashi plushie) in his drawings and art, with sashi he was initially afraid of him and it was difficult for her to approach him without him running away, now they are friends and he knows that he is safe with her, she is not aggressive with him, she just looks at him with a furrowed eyebrow when he does something wrong as a warning, with rippen it may seem that he is indifferent but secretly he jokes with him and always gets away with it 😀

He is the most pacifist (neutral) of the plushies :3

SASHI PLUSHIE: with sashi… she is aggressive🔥 (not even real sashi knows why ) they are not friends but they tolerate each other and can at least coexist in a room for a long time, until they don't and they fight and you know when it is serious when the sashi plushie hits her in her weak spot, with boone she treats him well, she just stays there taking care of him, eating meatloaf (if they eat it they don't need it but they do), the most "sashi" thing she did was wake him up with slaps so he wouldn't be late to school she still does it when he woke up lol, with penn she is a love 🥰❤️❤️❤️ , she hugs him, protects him, is aware, takes care of him when he is sick, she even lets him press her music box (that is until he takes advantage of when she stop him) she is happy with him and penn finds it cute to see a mini version of his girlfriend but he is still careful not to provoke her because… I'm still sashi, with rippen….. he is still alive so it's something

RIPPEN PLUSHIE: with rippen they are always in conflict and the truth is rippen plushie prefers not to live with him but has no choice but both feel that loneliness and the other's company is not so bad (reason why the plushie followed him felt he would find company) and both have each other (neither will admit it) they also take turns on who will sleep with freddy but if it is a tired day plushie rippen steals him regardless of whether it was his turn or not :3 , with larry he is more affectionate than rippen (he even lets him pet him or dress him in funny outfits) he lets himself be loved by him 🥰, with the dream team they are initially surprised that rippen has his plush counterpart too, they are even a little kinder to him for being tender (he doesn't like him and no matter how hard he tries he can't get rid of their jokes, lifts, games etc) as said the stuffed animals are dangerous and so is he, but it is more like annoyance or annoyance that they have when he does that (very few but sometimes he just tries to play jokes on them but they accidentally get out of control) they don't hear it because unlike the real Rippen (at first glance) the plushie is a little more empathetic and sometimes (NOT ALWAYS) if he feels bad he's like a child Rippen

LARRY PLUSHIE: with real Larry they are great friends, he has his own bed, butler, merchandise in the gift shop, (no stuffed animals in case someone takes the original 😱) and he also loves Tony and he loves him, he uses him as transportation without mistreating him, he loves everyone especially Rippen (he will not admit it, but Rippen is fond of hi ) he even helps him in his activities as a teacher secretly and is less creepy than the real Larry (but sometimes he can do it, there nobody knows how he will act 😶) with the dream team he also loves them, he is their emotional support in less unexpected moments, you can even act as a therapist (even if they do not know what you say but they appreciate it and it makes them feel better) and sometimes he helps them with the pranks of their stuffed counterparts (he bores them with his meaningless stories)

● Plushie language!!!

And as a last fact (I have already told it many times) but they speak another language, they speak with squeaks like skeaks toys or the rain frog meme when squeaking, initially the dream team was surprised that they spoke like that, they thought they would speak like them, it is not until Phillyps explains to them that in most dimensions they have their own language and when they enter the bodies of the inhabitants they also speak and understand the language

That's all for now, if there are any other questions feel free to ask :)

[earlgreytea68]

I just finished a show on Netflix called "Envidiosa," and I loved it, which is unusual for me, since I usually get easily annoyed by most fiction these days.

I saw a lot of people complaining that the heroine was awful and selfish and horrible, and I was wondering what was wrong with me that I sympathized with her. Like, she made a bunch of bad decisions, but I always understood why she was making those decisions. The show, to me, really paid attention to its actual characters and how they would behave and what they would do. Also, the MC really spoke to me. She's a 40-year-old woman who feels like everyone else got the "perfect life" but her, which she defines as marriage and kids. The storyline of the show is more complex than that, but it really did resonate with me, because I am a single, childless woman in my 40s, and I am very happy, I don't want to suggest that I'm not, but I also know that I spend a lot a lot of years thinking I really NEEDED to get married and have kids, that that would of course be what my future had to look like, because that's what it looked like for everyone all around me and that's what society tells us, and I really felt for this MC struggling with her life not turning out the way it was "supposed to." I don't think we see enough characters out there really grappling with that in as much depth as this show did. Like, yeah, sometimes you DO feel like everyone shows up with nothing but good news and you're the only loser whose life isn't going well. Idk, maybe that's just a me thing but my twenties were a rough time and this really made me feel more seen but in a good way, like, yeah, I recognized this person and her struggle.

But then this show did something even more shocking and actually let the OTP, like, get to know each other and develop a relationship so that you could understand why they would want to be together????? This seems like the most basic element of a romcom but wow, almost NONE of them bother to actually do this, they just give you, like, a montage scene of the OTP walking on the beach together or playing a board game and they're like, "SEE, THEY'RE OBVIOUSLY PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER." This show took its time and the OTP had a bunch of scenes together where they actually had fun with each other and connected with each other and I was rooting for them so hard and really, I almost never root for the OTP of a romcom because usually I don't care about them at all lol.

Anyway, I was really, really impressed by this show. I didn't expect so much going in, but it was very thoughtful and well-done. Also, it was hilarious. I laughed so much. All of the characters were great and I loved all of them. I don't speak fluent Spanish but I understand enough to get by and the subtitling of this show is awful, there were so many jokes that I could hear in the original Spanish being spoken that just were lost in the subtitles, sigh, I wish they would have done a better job with that. But it's okay, because it didn't REALLY take away from the rest of the show.

Oh, also, the soundtrack was awesome, A+.

So, I very seldom recommend anything, as you know, I am the most difficult person in the world to please. And I can totally see how some people might hate this show, like, I get it, the MC is a lot to deal with. But I also really loved her and if you want a show about good characters behaving in a way that mostly makes sense and isn't just manipulated for plot purposes, this was a good one, PLUS it was funny, PLUS it had a decent ending (there's another season coming that makes me nervous but I was very satisfied with these two seasons). (And I HATE stupid contrivances to keep an OTP apart, I really do, and I was worried every once in a while that this show was veering off into that territory, but it always swerved its way back onto the track for me, mostly because it always was so rooted in the characters that I got what it was doing and going for, and again, it helped that EVERYONE seemed alike a fully imagined person on the canvase, not just the OTP.) (Well, the love triangle girl that the guy starts dating kind of bothered me but she was the only one.)