#truly a testament to that friend that they still wanted to be my friend

[crimimnal-mineds-part2]

Reid: what was your first impression of me?

Emily, without hesitation: unstable.

Reid:

Emily: what do you expect? The first time I heard you, you told JJ about how you were writing a trauma comedy show about your life

JJ: the traumedy show.

#my traumedy show is coming along nicely #truly a testament to that friend that they still wanted to be my friend #incorrect cm #incorrect criminal minds #criminal minds incorrect quotes #criminal minds incorrect #cm incorrect quotes #incorrect bau #spencer reid incorrect quotes #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau

[violainebriat]

It's a bit weird typing out a full post here on tumblr. I used to be one of these artists that mostly focused on posting only images, the least amount of opinions/thoughts I could share, the better. Today, the art world online feels weird, not only because of AI, but also the algorithms on every platform and the general way our craft is getting replaced for close to 0 dollars. This website was a huge instrument in kickstarting my career as a professional artist, it was an inspiring place were artists shared their art and where we could make friends with anyone in the world, in any industries. It was pretty much the place that paved the way as a social media website outside of Facebook, where you could search art through tags etc. Anyhow, Tumblr still has a place in my heart even if all artists moved away from it after the infamous nsfw ban (mostly to Instagram and twitter). And now we're all playing a game of whack-a-mole trying to figure out if the social media platform we're using is going to sell their user content to AI / deep learning (looking at you reddit, going into stocks). On the Tumblr side, Matt Mullenweg's interviews and thoughts on the platform shows he's down to use AI, and I guess it could help create posts faster but then again, you have to click through multiple menus to protect your art (and writing) from being scraped. It's really kind of sad to have to be on the defensive with posting art/writing online. It doesn't even reflect my personal philosophy on sharing content. I've always been a bit of a "punk" thinking if people want to bootleg my work, it's like free advertisement and a testament to people liking what I created, so I've never really watermarked anything and posted fairly high-res version of my work. I don't even think my art is big enough to warrant the defensiveness of glazing/nightshading it, but the thought of it going through a program to be grinded into a data mush to be only excreted out as the ghost of its former self is honestly sort of deadening.

Finally, the most defeating trend is the quantity of nonsense and low-quality content that's being fed to the internet, made a million times easier with the use of AI. I truly feel like we're living what Neil Postman saw happening over 40 years ago in "amusing ourselves to death"(the brightness of this man's mind is still unrivaled in my eyes).

I guess this is my big rant to tell y'all now I'm gonna be posting crunchy art because Nightshade and Glaze basically make your crispy art look like a low-res JPEG, and I feel like an idiot for doing it but I'm considering it an act of low effort resistance against data scraping. If I can help "poison" data scrapping by wasting 5 minutes of my life to spit out a crunchy jpeg before posting, listen, it's not such a bad price to pay. Anyhow check out my new sticker coming to my secret shop really soon, and how he looks before and after getting glazed haha....

#ai protection #my art #violaine briat

[dearharriet]

Lover's rock by TV girl and Fred please!! Congrats on 150!!

thank you for the request lovely! i only realized after writing that the twins are born in spring, but we can pretend they’re summer babies for my sake ;( (wc: 1.4K)

The twins’ shared apartment is wearing an unusual intimacy tonight, shadowy and warm, with every window open to let the summer breeze drift through. Your friends are in the kitchen, which is a lovely thing to walk in on.

You’re just grabbing another coke to smuggle back to Fred's room, but you linger for a moment by the fridge. It’s the week of the twins' birthday, which will call for riotous celebration later, but for now they both swear they only want a small gathering of all their best mates. Angelina, Lee, Alicia, Katie, Oliver, and you.

Pressing the cool can to your flushed cheeks, you watch them all laugh, a bit faint with how much you want to remember this moment. It’s a testament to your awful crush on Fred that you pull yourself away at all, slinking down the hall into his room again.

“There you are,” says the man himself, bent over his old record machine. “Thought the girls might’ve persuaded you to abandon me.”

“Almost,” you tell him truly. “It’s hard to get us all together like this anymore.”

“It’ll just be a second,” Fred assures you, sifting through stacks of warped vinyls. “I know it’s in here somewhere.”

You take the moment of distraction to lay yourself out atop his cool bedspread, no doubt quilted by his mother.

“No rush.”

Your change of position takes Fred’s attention, and when he finds you, he can only blink. You stare back at him, feeling shy but not quite willing to show it.

“What?”

Fred shakes his head. “Nothing.”

You watch him resume his task, enjoying the way his shoulders fill out the casual tee he’s donned. All of you have known each other for so long, and yet you can’t quite pinpoint when Fred started looking so mature. It’s like it happened under your nose or overnight, a snap of a change just as you blinked your eyes.

“You’re staring.” Fred looks up to catch you, and you can only press your lips together.

“So?”

Neither you nor Fred seem to understand if this is a defense or an admittance, but the air in the room feels all the hotter for it. His eyes flash with a mischievous impulse you’ve seen a thousand times, and you expect some witty comeback. Instead, he just holds up a flimsy yellow square for you to see.

“Found it.”

Just like that, the moment diffuses, your aching chest deflating. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or disappointed.

“Finally,” you sigh. “Put it on, will you?”

He does, gently setting it into its cradle and starting the spin. By the time the song begins, he’s halfway onto the bed.

“Alright, if you don’t like it, you’re not allowed to tell me. It’s my birthday.”

“I like it already.”

Fred sprawls out on his back beside you, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel the heat radiating off of him in waves. He shoots a smile your way, boyish and sly. “That’s my girl.”

You try not to read too far into that—Fred says it all the time, and that’s just Fred—but it’s hard with the heat and the soft music. When it comes to feigning indifference, you’re something of a professional, except right now you’re hardly maintaining a regular color.

“I got you something really good for your gift,” you choke, desperate to change the subject.

“Did you, now?” Fred is still looking at you strangely, giddy like he’s waiting for a prank to pan out. Your heart is tumbling in your chest.

“Mhm. I think you’re really gonna like it.”

“I’m sure,” he agrees, his tone dulcet. “I’d like anything you gave me.”

“Oh, come off it,” you scoff breathlessly, cracking like an egg under his attention. Fred’s grin spreads wider, his eyes melting impossibly softer.

“What? I can’t say that?”

You shake your head, truly sick of his teasing.

“No. You’re being a tosser.” Fred’s disbelief rings out of him in a belly laugh. It’s stupid to let it hurt your feelings, but your reactions to Fred have never quite been rational.

“I’m complimenting you, pretty girl.”

The nickname sends a shock of heat through you, equal parts excitement and fury. “You’re making fun.”

“No,” Fred says, and though he’s still wearing a ghost of a smile, his voice is sharp and stern. You can’t bear to look at him, painfully aware of the fact that he’s peering right into the soft center you’ve been harboring for years.

The record plays like a drama now, some sort of cruel irony in its sweeping romanticism singing behind the end of a decade-long friendship.

“I can see you creating a tragedy in your head over there.”

Bracing yourself, you chance a look at Fred. He’s pushed onto one elbow, watching you carefully, knowingly.

“Am not,” you insist.

In response, he only chuckles lightly, like it’s fine that you are and it’s fine that you’re lying about it.

“I don’t play with feelings,” Fred says, “you know that. If I call you pretty, it’s ’cause you are.”

Thinking that can’t possibly be true, you argue, “You play with my feelings all the time.”

“Or you misunderstand me,” he implies, raising his brows, “all the time.”

You blink at him, unsure what to think of that. If Fred liked you, he’s not the type to let it go unsaid. You would know. Surely you would know. Unless, of course, you’ve been a complete fool.

“Really?”

Fred nods, exasperated fondness painted over his features. “Really.”

Covering your face with your hands, you ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Darling, trust me, I tried. You were too cussed to believe me.”

It’s all too much, you can’t believe your own ignorance.

“Fred,” you whine, face flushed for every reason but the heat. He takes your wrists, encouraging your hands down.

“Look, you know now,” he assures you, though he’s still much too amused for your taste, “so you don’t have to worry.”

Your tumultuous heart seems to settle, albeit aching like it’s been mauled by a bear.

“Will you ever forgive me?”

Fred squeezes your wrists as he smiles, and you can’t believe you hadn’t seen it before—the heat in his gaze, the rapt attention. Looking back through years of hazy memories, you realize you can’t pinpoint the beginning of that behavior from him, if there ever was one. Fred has always been Fred, horribly flirty and without boundaries, and you chose to assume he wasn’t serious.

“I’ll forgive you,” he says, “on one condition.”

The pitter-patter of your heart picks up again.

“Yes?”

Leaning close, Fred says, “you have to give me a birthday kiss.”

Your lips twitch with an unbidden smile. “You’re horrible.”

“I’m horrible?” Fred asks, stilling his descent on you. “You won’t do it then?”

“I’ll do it.” As you say so, your hands skirt up Fred’s arms and shoulders to weave into his hair, pulling him closer. “But not because I want to.”

“No,” he breathes, and your senses gather him and only him, “of course not.”

Your lips touch gently, just brushing and feeling against one another. You’re trying very hard not to smile, but it becomes a laborious task when Fred inches deeper, taking your bottom lip between his. After a moment, though, he pulls back.

“One sec,” he says, and slides off the bed.

You watch him move to the record player, which is spinning around the end of the vinyl. You hadn’t even realized it stopped.

“Freddie.”

Both your and Fred’s attention snaps to the door, locking on a very smug looking George. Having no other reference for how you might appear, you look to Fred, and it’s not promising. His lips are smudged pink from your lipstick, and his hair is a mess in the back. It would take an idiot not to know what you two were doing.

Still, George doesn’t object, he just inflates his words with enough self-satisfaction to kill.

“Cake and presents soon. Try to wrap up whatever you’re doing in here.”

Just like that, he’s gone.

Seemingly unfazed, Fred flips the vinyl in his hands and starts it again.

“Shouldn’t we go?” you ask.

Crawling back up the bed, Fred settles into your space again, much closer than before.

“Not yet. Let’s give the b-side a listen.”

+

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

#harriet’s 150 celebration #fred weasley #harry potter #wizarding world #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley drabble #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fanfiction #fred gideon weasley #weasley twins #george weasley #request #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom

[i-like-cats-and-stars49]

Shellshocked crack idea that hit me like a train:

Look, Miles and Mikey had a fricking weird week, ok?

It all started when Mikey wanted to show Miles around the Hidden City, like two totally-not-in-love friends and they got their stuff stolen by pirates.

Obviously, they had to break into the pirate ship and get their stuff back, all alone, obviously!

It's not their fault that they fell through a random portal into a remote, almost unreachable, backwater part of the Hidden during the fight!

So now, they have to please the local duchess there, so he can grant them access to the only way out of this backwater town.

So, what kind of genius scheme does Miles come up with?

Miles: We could marry each other and invite the duchess to the wedding. She really seems to like weddings a lot.

Mikey: That is a great idea, let's do it!

Miles: wait really

Mikey: Don't get cold feet now!

So, they organise a fake wedding. Mikey has a blast organising everything and screaming at incompetent helpers. Miles is regretting his life choices. Fake-marrying his crush, please help him.

The wedding is absolutly beautiful (Mikey's wedding dress is gorgeous and Miles just looks so dapper in a suit, the old ladies love them) and the duchess is swayed to pay the freshly wed couple's honeymoon.

So, after around ten days after disapearing off the earth's surface, Mikey and Miles reappear, freshly wed.

The Hamato family is so disappointed to not have been invited to the fake wedding and also shovel talk poor Miles before he can go home.

It's truly a testament to Miles' overthinking how he didn't notice how much Mikey actually liked him.

A week later, Mikey kisses him as a greeting and Miles is confused.

Miles: Wait why are you kissing me?

Mikey: I thought we were together now?

Miles: I was not informed about this.

Mikey: We're literally married, Miles.

Miles: I thought that all was just part of the ruse for the duchess.

Mikey: I literally confessed my love to you!

Miles: I didn't think you were serious!

Mikey: How

Miles: I dunno!

Mikey: You still wanna be boyfriends?

Miles: I mean, yeah?

Mikey: Great, we're boyfriends now for real!

Miles *blushing heavily* : Holy crap, yes we are.

#shellshocked #tmnt #rottmnt #shellslinger #across the spiderverse #mikey×miles #miles morales #Spiderverse #into the spiderverse #fanfic ideas #rottmnt crossover

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Explosions

EPISODE 6 OF ONLY FRIENDS WAS SO FUCKING GOOD! Seriously it was just fight after fight after fight, every relationship being shifted, undermined, or blown up in minutes and it was glorious. I think a good summary for this episode is “It’s always the quiet ones” 

If you want the TL;DR version of any of these, you can check out @lurkingshan’s much more cohesive, succinct description of each fight, and the winner. 

Sand v. Top 

Something that I truly and deeply appreciate about Only Friends is how much they are really committing to letting these boys act their motherfucking ages. We would think that Sand is a more responsible, independent person out of necessity, that he has his life together more, that he is more mature. After all, like we said last week, Boston came in to his home, smoked his weed, and fucked with his relationship and Sand took the high road (so we thought) of shutting his goddamn mouth and not airing Boston and Top’s dirty laundry. 

But damn if this boy ain’t twenty, petty, and fueled by rage at even the smallest sight of Top’s face. 

Sand goes to the Coffee House and orders a Pink Milk (now, pink milk/pink drink is a pretty old BL trope if I understand correctly, and so imo it is a testament to Sand’s character and his expectations of romance that he would order such a drink, and a statement on Jojo and Ninew’s part that the coffee house does not have milk and therefore cannot deliver the drink of BL romance everywhere.) Top appears, ordering his drinks, and we get a blessed side eye from Sand full of incredulity, barely contained disdain, and annoyance.

GOD I WANT THEM TO BE HALF-BROTHERS SO BAD! Anyway…

Top does give a rather amicable hello, and initiates a casual, emotionless conversation. But of course, Sand hates this motherfuckers’ guts for stealing his ex, and Sand knows exactly what and how Top thinks of him, so that protective snark we saw when Sand initially started engaging with Rich-Boy-Ray, returns. 

Top, on the other hand, thinks nothing of Sand, not that he hates him, not that he likes him, but fully that Sand is nothing. Sand is poor, Sand is struggling, Sand is nowhere close to competition for him. Top is precisely the kind of asshole that uses subtle jibes and jabs to chip away at people who understand what he is doing. Sand fucking hates this guy, so it is easy beyond measure to get Sand going. 

Especially because, we know that Sand knows about Top and Boston, and we know that Boston poked the bear the other night and fucked with Sand’s feelings about Ray. Top needles, and Sand inches closer to showing his hand ‘Mew seems nice. How unlucky of him to have you as his boyfriend’ 

And the perfect boyfriend mask that Top has been so successfully adorning drops “I can have anyone I want…I got mine now. I hope you get yours” 

(I am putting this screenshot in here because I find it really interesting from a visual storytelling/cinematography perspective that Sand is cast in Top’s shadow.)

And get his Sand will, because the first thing Sand does when he gets home is break the shit out of his phone so hard that Nick asks if he went to war. He “borrows” Nick’s phone to “call his Mom” promptly sending himself the audio file of Boston and Top having sex. (Pro Tip: If you are going to audio record two guys having sex, maybe don’t tell a goddamn soul you have it unless you are ready for that information to come to light.) 

Some questions I have here: why did Sand ask about if Nick was still seeing Boston? Why does Sand seem chill with Nick and Boston still hanging out together after Boston just went full douchebag all over his apartment. 

(My assumption/my theory here, which I am not really thinking has any basis in reality is that Sand is looking to see if Nick is still hanging out with Boston after Boston blew up the fantasy relationship he had with Ray. As if he was figuring out if it was worth it to throw Nick in to the mix when he is making the decision to ignite the stick of dynamite that is everyone’s relationships to one another.)

Then he meets with Ray at the bar. 

“Are you mad at me for that night?”

“Why would I be mad? Who you like is your business” Sand says, like a liar, and I am almost entirely certain that Ray knows this is a lie. Because he was with Sand the night Boston went off and he heard those crack’s in Sand’s voice. 

Something that I absolutely love about Ray as a character is that he is so completely unable to control his facial expressions. Whatever he is thinking or feeling is on his face the second that the emotion enters his body. You can see it in the fight scene with Boston in episode 5, how quickly Ray’s face shifts from crossfaded, relaxed, and smiley to focused, tense, and angry. So his reaction to Sand’s response is no surprise. Ray smirks, and looks away from Sand. 

“You called me here to play pool?”

“No, I wanted to talk to you…about Mew,” Sand is looking straight at Ray at this point, and I don’t know about y’all but it feels to me like Sand is assessing Ray’s reaction.  There is a MASSIVE pause from Ray at this point, a large bout of silence, and VERY slow, calculated motion as he brings himself to a (drunken) upright position. 

“What? Are you not okay that I like him?”

A deep inhale from Sand, and then a smile “I am okay. I even get why you like him. He is nice. People around can’t help falling for him.” Sand is priming his trap, weaponizing Ray’s feelings for Mew.

So here is the thing with Ray. Ray is both an open book and a man of direct action, part of this may just be his personality, but part of this is that Ray is constantly under the influence, and with altered mental status, it is going to both be harder to control your outward emotional expression and you are going to get escalated more quickly. Ray has an extremely low tolerance for bullshit, and in some capacities that is a negative thing (ex: 80% of the actions Ray does after his conversation with Sand in the pool hall), but it can sometimes be a positive thing, because it allows Ray to cut to the chase. To try to skirt around whatever mind games Sand is trying to play: “Just say what you mean”. 

Sand sends Ray the audio recording, “I didn’t know who to tell, so I told you” Sand says, turning his attention to the pool table.

This is a crucial move, because Sand is not making eye contact with Ray. Sand is toying with Ray, he is trying to seem disinterested in Ray, in their conversation, unaffected by the other night, casual in his relationship to Ray, casual in the massive invasion of privacy that he just handed to Ray, unphased by the ammunition he has just loaded in to the loose cannon. 

“I just don’t want a good guy like Mew to get fooled by Top. Mew is lucky though…

“To have you by his side”

Sand knows exactly what he is doing. He knows Ray likes Mew, and he knows Ray has a tendency to get riled up. Sand may not fully anticipate just how much he is setting Ray up to get hurt here, but he for fucking sure knows he is priming a weapon. If you ask me, Sand is placing the idea in Ray’s head to bring this information to Mew, to reveal the truth and break Mew and Top up so that Top loses the relationship that he just rubbed in Sand’s face, with minimal effort and suspicion that Sand was behind any of it. Which is why Sand looks up from the pool table as he says this line, because he’s studying Ray to see if Ray is picking up what Sand is putting down, and as we will see later, Sand has successfully planted the seed.

Ray is easy, Ray takes the bait, Ray immediately goes firing off in every direction he can. That boy waits, what? Probably one day before he runs straight to Boston to give him a piece of his mind. 

Ray v. Boston

There are too many phenomenal scenes in Episode 6 to pick a favorite, but I do think this is one of the best scenes that we’ve seen for Boston so far. By which I mean that we get a lot of information about Boston’s character from the way he navigates this conversation with Ray. We saw his proclivity for douchebaggery in Episode 5, and we’ve seen his propensity for fear when he is almost caught by Mew in the showers with Top. But we haven’t really seen these two aspects of Boston’s character interacting with each other, or at least not as strongly. 

Ray comes storming in to Boston’s home immediately riled up and cussing him out, calling him all sorts of names asking if he is going to do nasty shit to all of his friends, and of course, Boston at this point has no idea that the recording exists (and he is just a major asshole) so he is legitimately very confused about what Ray could possibly be talking about. 

“You hooked up with Top!” Ray shouts, and there is a look of genuine fear in Boston’s eyes. No one was around that he knew about or saw when he hooked up with Top that night, no one should have known that happened. Boston already has one recorded gay sex event hanging over his head as potential blackmail (thanks Gap), and now he is faced with the realization that there may be evidence of a second gay sex event.

Boston cares about his father’s reputation. Boston is not out to his father. Boston is probably far less discrete and careful than he should be, but I do think it is fair for him to assume that people aren’t going to record his sexual encounters with them without his consent. (I want to take a pause here just to say that I think I guessed right about some of the reasoning for Boston’s behavior especially in the earlier episodes has to do with his inability to be out.) This scene is where we get the longest continuous exposure to Boston’s fear. He is scared when Ray says he knows about him and Top, he is scared when he asks who told Ray, at this point you would think Ray would be the victor of this fight, but the second that Ray brings Mew in to the conversation?

Boston puts a mask on, and he smiles, because he has found a way to protect himself, and that is to use Ray’s weak spot (his crush on Mew) against him. To turn the tides in his favor, to manipulate Ray’s feelings, Ray’s attachment to Mew, Ray’s love of Mew in to staying quiet about his hook up with Top. 

“So? Top and I screwed even before they started dating. Is it so weird to screw again? I just wanted more. Then I let them love each other all they want. Everyone has a happy ending. Everyone is filled.” 

I am fascinated here by Boston’s comment “I let them love each other all they want”. As if he personally has control over Top and Mew’s feelings for each other, as if he didn’t violate Mew’s ability to trust Top whenever, if ever that information comes to light. (Secondarily, Boston chooses some truly masterful double entendres here “happy ending”, “everyone filled”). 

Ray continues on his shouting spree, asking Boston how he could do that to a friend, and we see the aloof and unbothered mask slip off once again, in favor of an actual plea to be listened to. “Hear me out, okay? I don’t hate Mew at all. I was just needy. The timing was just wrong” Now, while I don’t believe Boston about Mew and about the timing because we know he only started going after Top when Top started showing greater interest in Mew, and didn’t just nail and bail. But, I don’t think Boston is entirely lying to Ray here about being needy. One thing I do wish this show had more time for is establishing the past relationship between Boston and Ray before they get to this point. When Ray says later on in the episode that Boston tells him all about his sexual conquests, is that just something he says to Ray or is that something he tells the whole group when he is recounting his previous nights? This matters only in the sense of me feeling more secure in how much, if any, of what Boston is saying to Ray is true. 

“Timing, my ass. The point is your slutty ass just sleeps with anyone.” Ray says, and Boston looks down at the ground, draws in a breath, and then meets Ray with this cocky, teasing smirk and the line “Not just anyone. I picked him.” 

Ray wants to see Boston as a villain, so Boston will be one. Boston is generally a contradictory asshole, but in my opinion if he wasn’t faking some of this confidence and prodding at Ray, he would not have needed prep time, we would have seen that sincerity drop, the way we saw Top’s sincerity drop in his conversation with Sand. Instead, Boston has to prepare himself to act this way, though he is able to slip in to this part of himself with ease. Also, I have no deep insights in to this, because I am simply just obsessed with the little shoulder shrug Boston gives Ray. Spitting in his face would have been less disrespectful than the way Boston shrugs off Ray’s comment about him being a slut. (Once again I say Neo Trai is absolutely crushing this role).

Boston asks how Ray is involved (a great question, because it is literally none of Ray’s business) and then goes in for the kill with his acknowledgement of Ray’s crush, and the underlying dickishness Boston knows (or thinks he knows) is there. “You’re playing a good friend who is always so protective of Mew. Honestly, I think you are glad that it happened. You’ve always waited for your chance. This is in your favor. You’re waiting for them to break up and be his rebound when he is weak.” 

I don’t know that it really needs to be called out directly, but I am going to do it anyway. What Boston just said to Ray’s face is exactly what Sand was thinking, and alluding to when he gave Ray that recording. You cannot convince me otherwise. But Sand was subtle in how he put those thoughts in Ray’s head, so he is successful in getting Ray appropriately riled up. Boston too, is successful in riling up Ray by being direct with him, but Boston gets punched in the face and makes Ray even angrier at him than he was before. 

“If you tell him, then you’re as evil as me. Don’t act like you mean well when deep down you hope they will break up. It’s disgusting!” He stands up, and stalks right up to Ray’s face.

“You should even thank me big time for getting you out of the friendzone.” 

Regardless of the fact that Boston is not yet aware of the recording of him and Top, he is acutely aware that he needs to protect himself from this information getting out. So again, he hones in on Ray’s weakness. Boston compares Ray to himself, to the person that Ray is absolutely furious with. He plays to Ray’s own insecurities and to Ray’s need to be seen as a good person and viable partner for Mew. Ray loves his friends, Ray loves Mew, Ray does not want to hurt Mew, if Ray tells Mew about Top cheating on him Mew will be hurt, if Mew rebounds with Ray after he and Top break up that makes Boston right about Ray’s intentions, that makes Ray evil. That is the implication here. And, just in case trying to convince Ray that if he tells Mew about the cheating then he is just as evil as the person who literally got fucked by Top, Boston throws in a little bit extra.  Ray should be grateful. Ray should thank Boston. Boston’s shitty actions here, Boston’s betrayal of his friendship with Mew, have cleared the way for Ray to play the hero. Ray shouldn’t tell Mew any of this because he owes Boston. Ray came charging in to Boston’s own home, with a leg up in the conversation, and showed his hand, allowing Boston to exploit Ray’s feelings and gain the upper hand. In one expert fell swoop, Boston has upset Ray enough for him to storm off and is feeling pretty confident and secure in the knowledge that Ray will not say anything to Mew.

Ray v. Everyone

By the time Ray gets to Mew’s birthday party he has been ignored, insulted, manipulated, and belittled constantly by almost every single person that says they care about him. Cheum has laughed at his love life, Sand used Ray to further his own agenda, Boston has thoroughly fucked with Ray’s life in a number of ways, and even Mew is harsher than usual to Ray when they run in to eachother in the bathroom and Mew tells Ray to stop doing drugs or he’ll be dead by 30. 

Ray loves Mew, Ray has been told over and over again by Mew that he only sees Ray as a friend, and there in the bathroom, Mew once again says “let’s be friends forever”. At this point, Mew has made it pretty fucking clear that he is never going to date Ray, and all of Ray’s friends have been shitty to him, and he is also drunk AND high, so for me it would track that Ray has literally nothing to lose by being honest. Every relationship Ray has, someone has fucked with. Top tries to get Mew on his side in his hatred of Ray, Sand put his barriers back up to protect his own feelings when Boston mentioned Ray’s crush on Mew, Ray fucked himself over with Mew by kissing him when he was asleep, Cheum points out Ray’s lack of love life and otherwise pretty much ignores Ray. So it also tracks for me that Ray would try to get back at everyone by fucking with their relationships.

Ray pulls a Top and gets up on stage to steal Sand’s microphone and make a public declaration, something that we as the audience should already know Mew does not like, because he said as much to Top after Top publicly asked Mew to be his boyfriend. Sand, bless him, tries to put a stop to this immediately by asking Ray what he is doing, but not to be deterred, and using the guise of Mew’s birthday he takes control of the microphone and the entire bar’s attention.  Before I go too much in to the actual roast session, I would recommend everyone who has seen Episode 6 go back to this scene and watch how Book plays Mew in this scene. Every single moment (until Mew gets mad that is) that Mew is on screen, he looks forlorn. But in the chaos of the bar scene, the quick cuts to all the couples dancing it can be hard to notice, especially if we weren’t looking out for it. This whole scene is set up spectacularly as foreshadowing for Mew’s revenge at the end of the episode, and if you pay close enough attention highlights the huge problems in Mew and Top’s relationship. Mew is upset, Mew is visibly upset, and Top is standing right there next to Mew the entire time. Top is dancing with Mew, Top is putting himself between Mew and Ray. Mew and Top are inches from each other during this entire scene and Top does not notice or ask about Mew’s mood shift once. Because Top has never truly been attentive to Mew’s feelings.

Anyway, Mew lays waste to Cheum, Boston, and Nick before Sand recognizes this is going nowhere good fast, and once again tries to put a stop to it. 

Ray has been ignored by too many people, Ray has been fucked with for too long for him to just let everything go and leave. And remember, he is drunk and high on cocaine so he is not de-escalating any time soon, and no one in that bar is at all equipped to change his focus and calm him down. Sand gets involved, but Sand is the cause of all of this mess because he gave Ray the information, and Ray will not be silenced, so he tries to insult Sand. “You don’t even want to be a singer, you just want to make money. If you want it so much, why don’t you sleep with me?” 

AND SORRY, I KNOW THAT I SHOULD REALLY BE TALKING ABOUT THE TOP, BOSTON, MEW OF IT ALL BUT I FUCKING LOVE THE IMPLICATIONS OF THIS LINE.

Because we know that Ray has offered to pay Sand for sex before, and we know that Ray has asked Sand how much he owed for their “one night stand”, only to have Sand on every occasion, reject the money. Sand has said that if he wants sex, he does it for free. Literally from the moment that Sand realized that he had some sort of positive feelings for Ray, and agreed to be his friend, he has not accepted a single bhat from Ray. But in front of all of these people, Ray is implying that Sand is a sex worker. In front of Boston, who has walked in on Ray and Sand making out, and in front of Nick who has interrupted Ray and Sand in the middle of something physically intimate on more than one occasion, Ray has just made it seem to them like Sand has been paid to cater to Ray’s every whim, in front of people that know Sand well. 

We love and respect sex workers in this house, but Ray? Ray is not saying this because he thinks sex work is okay. Ray is saying this because he thinks calling someone a prostitute (in a sense) is insulting, and that is not helped by the fact that they are in public and therefore Ray is subjecting Sand to public scrutiny over him potentially being a sex worker.  And in associating Sand with sex work, in associating sex with Ray as sex work, Ray is undermining the validity of any and all time that Sand and Ray have hung out together, and is highlighting his status as a higher class than Sand. 

Ray turns to Mew, showering praise and gratitude and well wishes upon him, and telling Mew “though that happiness doesn’t include me, I’m okay,” and Mew does not react in any way that is comforting, he doesn’t smile, he doesn’t nod. He just stands there, staring at Ray, and by my impression trying not to cry. And God, what I wouldn’t give to see Boston’s reaction to this moment, because we do not get to see him at all during this moment, and I want to know how confident Boston was feeling that Ray wouldn’t say anything about his affair with Top when Ray is acknowledging that he knows that Mew will never return his feelings.

I don’t know about you all, but personally, I believe Ray here. I think Ray has been rejected enough by Mew, and fucked up his relationship enough with Mew that he does just need to affirm to Mew that he understands what he has done, and that he understands that Mew will only ever think about him as a friend, and that Ray is there to support Mew in whatever he decides to do with the information, we as the audience do not know Mew already has. 

Ray turns his ire on Top, shouting at the top of his lungs, insulting Top, shoving Top, generally causing a scene and we finally get a glimpse of Boston, but he’s blurred out in the background, so while his face is unreadable, we get some indication of Boston’s emotional state by that fact that he is tuned the fuck in to everything going on, because the only thing we can read from Boston is that he is staring directly at Top. Ray continues to escalate, and Yo finally steps in, but she allows Ray to continue after a moment, which is like…girl, come on, where is the responsible bar owner? 

Ray starts shoving Top, Mew tries to step in, Top grabs Mew around the shoulder and jerks him back like he owns Mew. And because there are very few people in this world that take Ray seriously at all, Cheum tries to get involved. Reminding Ray that Mew is not gonna fuck him (I mean, that’s not exactly what she said but same shit) which Ray knows. I think, personally, that Ray is fully aware that there is a chance that he has completely ruined his relationship with Mew by valuing Mew enough to tell him the truth. That he has made himself as evil as Boston by telling Mew anything at all. 

I’ve said it before, I will say it again, Ray is one of the biggest open books in this show because of his substance use. We saw very early in the episode when the hotel management group was talking with their professor every single emotion, every single thought that Ray was

experiencing. From nearly the beginning of the show, we have seen Ray ignored or belittled by most of his friends, as someone who loves and has worked with drug users, I have to say that Jojo and co are doing an incredible job at demonstrating all the little ways that people discount, discredit, and dehumanize drug users. All of his friends, Boston, Cheum, and especially Mew think they are better than Ray because he uses drugs. We see it in the bathroom, right before the Ray-mpage, Mew realizing Ray has just done drugs, and then telling his suicidal friend that he would be dead before 30 if he keeps this behavior up. 

So of course Ray wants all these truths to come to light. Of course Ray has to be the one to do it. Because how dare all of these people stand around, pretending to be friendly to one another, pretending to care about one another, acting like they are all good people, when they are all manipulating, and controlling, and lying to each other. No one in this bar is better than Ray, even though they think they are. 

“No one has said a damn thing, which is why I need to” Ray shouts and then immediately turns to Boston. And as he continues to get riled up, as he gets closer to publicly revealing Top’s infidelity, Mew steps in, and it takes Mew punching Ray in the face to get him to shut the fuck up and preserve the image of clueless Mew.

Ray storms off and Sand goes running after him because he is the only person with some goddamn sense, realizing that Ray is going to endanger himself and others. They have their fight, which for the sake of space and time I am not going to talk about.

Mew v. Top

We reach a decompression point (so we think) after this fight, Sand quietly driving off after Ray, Nick reaching out to and having his comforting touch be rejected by Boston, Mew and Top walking back in to Mew’s apartment, with Mew only speaking when he is spoken to. 

Now, this cannot be convey through photographs alone, but I JUST NEED TO SHOUT TO THE HIGH HEAVENS ABOUT HOW FUCKING OBSESSED AND IN LOVE I AM WITH THE BACKGROUND MUSIC IN THIS SCENE. 

Besties, the vibes are RANCID. The music does not match the romantic scene we see Mew setting up, the lit candles, the supposed playlist he is putting on, the cuddling up to Top. The music we get underneath belongs in a horror movie. It’s suspenseful, it’s disconcerting. It is perfect. 

As soon as humanly possible Mew walks away from Top, enters a completely different room, and begins to lay his trap.

(Let it be stated for the record it was at this point where I started to think something might be up)

Top comes in to check on Mew and make sure he is alright, and as Book and Force have said, Top and Mew are competitive and poisonous for one another, and we are about to witness the perfect example of what happens with both of their propensities for control and manipulation come to a head.  Mew starts the game, initiating physical contact with Top, hugging him tight, rocking them back and forth. It is familiar, and comfortable, and there is absolutely no indication whatsoever from Mew’s body language that anything is wrong. (If you have not already, go back and watch the bar fight scene, and you will be presented with a drastically different Mew, because he is just gotten the news and he is processing his feeling and plotting his revenge, so he is a lot less capable of controlling the emotions on his face, and thus reads as detached and forlorn).

“Are you okay, Mew?” Top asks because he is at this point playing the role of devoted and concerned boyfriend extremely well (again a massive contrast to how he behaved at the bar, where he was possessive, reactive, and did not notice that anything was wrong with Mew despite being mere inches away from him). 

“I just wonder when Ray will be okay with you,” Mew responds, pulling away from Top to look him in the eyes. “I don’t want to choose.”

And what a great buy-in. Top hates Ray, Ray hates Top. Mew is perceptive and has been in the room on multiple occasions to see Top and Ray butting heads. Beyond the fact Ray went off on everyone at the bar, and it’s a relevant topic of conversation, Mew knows what he is doing bringing Ray in to his conversation with Top. 

Because Ray could have said “I’m okay”, he could have brushed the evening off, or said he wasn’t good, or bitched about Ray’s tendencies to ruin an evening with too much drinking. But he doesn’t mention any of that. He doesn’t attack Ray’s character, he doesn’t gripe about Ray’s actions. Mew explicitly brings up Ray’s feelings about Top. 

Giving Top a very good jumping off point for his own attempts at manipulation. 

“Why are you still friends with him?” Top asks. Undermining Mew’s previous line “I don’t want to choose.” Mew has literally just said that he wants to maintain his friendship with Ray and his relationship with Top, and implied that it is troubling him that the two of them cannot get along. That Ray cannot get along with Top. 

And instead of Top being sympathetic to that desire for Mew to get to keep two people he cares about in his life. Top tries to convince Mew to dump Ray altogether (which would further isolate Mew from his friends since Cheum really only seems to care about Mew’s sex life and Boston has intentionally been undermining Mew and Top’s relationship since it’s start).

This is not the first time that Top has tried to get what he wanted with just a question or suggestion. We can say all we want that LASIK was Mew’s idea, but Top suggested it first before he said something akin to “you know what, nevermind, you look cute in your nerd glasses”. He may have walked back his suggestion but it cannot be denied that he planted that seed. 

And planting a seed of doubt, of insecurity, of impatience with Ray’s behavior in to Mew’s mind is what I think Top is trying to do here. But Mew knows something Top doesn’t and where Mew may have started contemplating whether or not he actually does want to maintain a friendship with Ray, he is immune from that doubt seeping in in this case because he knows that Top is a dirty rotten liar. 

“I want to repay you,” Mew says a little bit further along in their conversation. “I don’t want you to forget about tonight.” (lmfao Mew, he definitely will not)

“It’s the birthday that I feel the most special.” and by God is Mew really laying it on thick. 

“Even though Ray ruined your night” Top can’t help but get a dig in, to remind Mew that Ray was a shitty friend on Mew’s birthday, to casually drop more evidence that Mew should pull away from his friendship with Ray. 

“Screw him. I have you by my side, there’s nothing to be afraid of” Mew is stoking Top’s ego, he’s lulling Top in to a false sense of security. Top has no idea what he is in for, he has no idea that Mew is playing games. Mew is doing such a thoroughly expert job with his performance he may even be annoying the audience, making them think that he didn’t connect the dots between Ray yelling at Top and Boston, and think that something might be wrong.

Top thanks Mew for making him like this version of himself, and to me this does make sense. There is this hollowness in the way I read Top and Mew’s entire relationship throughout the series. But I don’t doubt that some part of Top is interested in Mew. I have typically understood Mew and Top’s relationship to be an experiment from Top’s end to see what it would feel like to stop sleeping around.I think Top does genuinely enjoy at least part of his relationship with Mew, likes playing this role of doting boyfriend, but he is just playing. It is a performance. A skin he can shed the second he is out of Mew’s view.  

“Can I ask you one more gift?” Mew says, turning to face Top and without another word starts undressing him. Mew shoves Top on to the bed and starts kissing up his body (I shit you not I was shocked and literally said out loud, alone in my apartment “Damn, Book!”). This is not the first time that we have seen Mew raise the stakes of a physical encounter. From the beginning of their relationship, Mew has been entirely in control of if and when he and Top have sex. He holds on to that power, to his virginity for quite some time, but waffles in his confidence and power within the relationship by engaging in penetrative sex with Top because he is worried Top will be bored. 

This is the most intense, down and dirty level of physical intimacy we have ever seen from Top and Mew (and the same goes for Force and Book finally getting to step away from the slow and gentle sex scenes of shows past). Mew gets Top going, Mew gets Top in the zone, in the mood. Mew gets Top feeling good, moaning, before he drops the bomb. 

“I love the sound you make when you have sex” and this is where the tide begins to turn, where the audience may well and truly begin to pick up what Mew is putting down. But Top just thinks it’s hot. Top is playing along. Top wants to know what sounds he makes that Mew enjoys. This is a much different physical encounter than anything he has had from Mew before, and while Mew is once again leveraging physical intimacy to control Top, something he has been doing since their first sexual encounter. Though there is an intensity and surety to Mew’s actions here that feels markedly different than his other sexual interactions with Top where his movements were slower and less certain.  

“What sound?” Top asks, and oh boy has he just fucked himself over with this question. It is exactly the question Mew is hoping Top will ask. The perfect question for Mew’s pissed off, hurt, and dramatic ass to play the audio recording. 

And GOD DAMN TOP’S FUCKING REACTION? The fear and panic that enters his eyes, the speed and intentionality in the way Mew pushes himself off of Top.

Top’s fear and shock and awe lasts for mere seconds as he pulls himself upright at which point Force delivers one of my favorite lines in the entire exchange, “how did you get it?” 

Why is it one of my favorite? Because it acknowledges that Top knows that this audio recording exists. But it is said in passing, and asked as a question in such a way that Mew, who is about to actually let his emotions loose, might not actually realize the implications of the question. 

Because this is not Top asking “what is this?”, “where did this come from?”, “did you record me?” you know, the type of standard questions someone faced with an audio recording of them having sex might ask if they had never heard the audio recording before. But no, Top isn’t surprised to find out that he has been recorded. He is only scared and concerned about the fact that Mew got the recording from someone.

“How long ago was it?” Mew asks, and Top tries to equivocate “Mew, it was a long time ago,” as if Top thinks that he can what, brush off this audio recording? Dude. If Mew wasn’t busy trying not to slap you in the face, he would have noticed the practical admission of guilt you gave by nature of asking how he got the audio recording, you know he knows, why bother trying to lie? Mew does not let himself get convinced otherwise, and continues to press Top about whether or not he and Boston had fucked after he and Mew started dating and Top cannot look Mew in the eye until the very end of Mew’s line of questioning. And Top stays dead silent until Mew has asked him where and when he and Boston fucked, at which point he knows there is no getting out of this and he admits the truth. 

I don’t have much to say as of yet about the line Mew says “why did I have to know about this shit the day I’ve already loved you and given you everything?” mostly because I actually have a whole essay floating around in my brain that I am desperate to write for this show, but I do not have enough evidence to justify it yet, so I am waiting patiently for if the opportunity presents itself. But irrespective of that, there is an implication here that Mew held some level of possessiveness over his virginity and in having sex with Top committed to his relationship with Top. Mew is the kind of person that seems to think virginity has weight to it, and it is something to lose, something that can be lost.

Now. If Mew had stopped here and just broken up with Top, he would have won the day. But unfortunately, Mew is a human character with thoughts, feelings, and imperfections that are going to undermine his best efforts to be a diabolical schemer. (Something that I very much appreciate about this show is that every single person in the show has moments of utter genius that grant them the upper hand and a brief win. But no one is so impressive as to pull off a flawless victory or maintain their champion status for long). 

So unfortunately, we start getting insight in to Mew that we have not really had before, when he starts spiraling over Top and Boston hooking up. Mew, who has up until this point felt very secure in his inexperience with sex. And there have been signs of deeper insecurities popping up, namely that Mew had penetrative sex with Top to keep him interested in their relationship. “Why did it have to be Boston?” (who Mew called to ask for sex advice), “Couldn’t it have been anyone else?” Top looks guilty when Mew asks these questions, but that quickly changes as Mew’s spiral worsens “You guys planned this together?” Top’s head whips up to meet Mew’s eyes, he postures, he shifts his weight, he inhales a breath as if he is preparing to speak, and his face changes to a perfect picture of disagreement at the accusation. “You just wanted to mess with a virgin idiot like me?” Top actually tries to interrupt Mew’s spiral here, to calm Mew’s suspicions of malice against him. 

It is at this point Mew has his Boss Ass Bitch card revoked on the grounds of undermining the absolutely devastating and badass power play he just flawlessly pulled off by creating this fantasy in his head about big bad evil Top and Boston laughing at his inexperience. Especially because (and this is not to blame Mew at all) part of what drove Top to fuck Boston was Mew’s competitive nature and his desire to prove Top really wanted a relationship with him by withholding sex for an extremely long time. It was not Mew’s inexperience, but rather his virtue signaling and tight hold on having his first time that resulted in Boston’s successful attempt at convincing Top that Mew was lying to him about being a virgin. 

“Mew, you made that all up in your head, it’s nothing like that,”

“Well, what am I supposed to think when I can’t trust any word you say?” Mew turns away, only to be quickly embraced by Top. Both of them quiet, upset, and the episode ends with the future of their relationship uncertain.

#only friends the series #ofts #only friends #wka long post #only friends meta #only friends analysis #sorry if this is repetitive either in the text or to other things being posted on tumblr this week #i know there was a lot of good meta floating around and i promise you that everything i wrote here is my own thoughts #sandray #firstkhao #bostonnick #neomark #topmew #forcebook #jojo tichakorn #ninew pinya

[acourtofthought]

tell me what you think about this...

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1JyAGtTbgNGCdEb2iMbTtMkbUq66vF91z/view

I love your posts, they are divine.

Thank you so much!!!

What I have to say about the google doc is that they did a nice job putting together their points in the format they did!

But I don't agree with any of it.

Az did get Elain a rose necklace after the many mentions of Elain and roses but I wouldn't say roses are more special to Elain than any other flower just because they're symbolic of her.

It was the tulip fields she wanted to visit in book 1, the tulip bulbs she was talking to Feyre about in ACOTAR and it was those flower fields Nesta reminded us she had wanted to visit in SF.

Roses are kind of the obvious answer on "what to get a girl" when you're getting her something flower related , it's the top most purchased flower on Valentines Day after all.

And roses are used for Elain by the author in the same way that she describes Nesta like a wolf or Lucien like a fox. It's fun imagery and all that but not necessarily how the character would refer to themselves.

Roses are beautiful of course but I don't think it was all that clever of Az to select a rose charm when any one of them could have said "Elain likes flowers so I'll bet she'll like this rose necklace!". Had Az himself been clever enough to think "This charm is perfect for her because of how she is constantly sitting by the sunniest of windows and the charm also needs light to come alive" than he would have earned points for that. Or "Nesta underestimates her inner depth just like it's easy to miss with this charm but it's truth will be revealed just as Elain's will!" Instead it's the reader who draws the comparison, not him.

"Nesta, Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you my cunning, little queen. You shall wed for conquest."

First off, saying Elain will marry Az because he's the prettiest of the bat boys according to Feyre and Nesta is so superficial I can't believe it's even an argument. And what the sisters think of Az has literally no meaning at all compared to what Elain thinks of Az. Feyre might have thought Az was the most classically beautiful out of Cassian and Az but it was Rhys who was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. Elain is the "prettiest" of the three sisters but Rhys thought Feyre was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. When the King of Hybern and Amren (a being 15,000 years old) referenced Lucien's attractiveness, I'd say that if Elain married him she'd have no complaints about the hotness of her mate who is made sexier by a scar down his face which is a testament of how he stood up to Amarantha.

Second.....Nesta talks about how her mother would roll over in her grave to find out she'd married an untitled fae male. When Nesta defied her mother and the expectations she forced on her.....why is anyone under the impression Elain would follow through with what her mother thought of her?

The reason Elain's mother thought she'd marry for love and beauty is because her mother didn't think she was capable of anything else. You'd think a true Elain stan would want to prove that she was worth more than marrying someone just because of her or their physical appearance.

Oh, we're romanticizing "polite, BLAND" smiles now?

Az did go a bit still went Elain entered the room in ACOWAR. Then proceeded to look at Mor with hunger and yearning in the novella. Let's compare that to Lucien could barely breathe when he first got a true look at Elain because she was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen........and how Lucien looks at only HER with longing after that.

Feyre did predict Elain would cling to Az for peace and quiet. But since when does a truly happy Elain want just peace and quiet? Certainly not the Elain who personally greeted each guest at the ball, danced with all the important lords sons, who can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles, who can make friends easily, who stayed up until the wee hours of the morning at the ball surrounded by a circle of friends (flushed and brilliant) when both Feyre and Nesta were over it.

You know what else Feyre predicted? That Amren and Nesta would become fast friends which they did......until they weren't. Amren is not Nesta's found family, Emerie and Gwyn are. So if Feyre got that part wrong.......

In ACOWAR, Elain wanted to go home which was her home in the human lands. If she changed that in SF and called Rhys and Feyre's manor her home because that's been the only real option she's had to call home since being turned fae......why can't that change again in her book?

Nesta didn't find her true home until the book where she ended up with her love interest. Feyre didn't find her true home until the book she accepted her mating bond. Logic stands to reason that Elain will find her true home in her book too.

So I'm supposed to believe that Elain not eating, drinking sleeping or leaving her room for MONTHS until Lucien arrived and demanded they get her outside means nothing but Az who discovered she was a Seer is indicative of true love? Her Seer powers are not a thing that was wrong with her, he guessed the gift she was given. That's like someone giving me a present on Christmas and I shake the box while asking for hints until I figure it out. I'll never, ever, EVER be convinced that Az gave a shit about Elain during her depression considering he was excited to go to the Hewn City rather than stay back to guard Elain at her lowest. Considering he did not once ask Feyre how she was feeling, how she was doing, considering he did not once express concern over her lack of eating, sleeping, drinking, I think it's safe to say him being able to say "you're a seer!" doesn't mean much at all. Rhys was the one to discover Nesta's real power, does that mean he truly loves Nesta?

So I'm to understand that eavesdropping between two people while one is still going through depression and the other is trying for the very first time to reach out through their bond is supposed to be a comfortable situation? It was uncomfortable because Elain and Lucien were forced to sit together while everyone around them was being nosy as fuck. It wasn't a first date or anything but can you imagine trying to have a moment with someone while your two sisters and two others in the household are pretending to be busy while being completely aware they're listening to your every breath?

Feyre only THINKS that maybe Az understood what Elain was going through when she was hearing voices. Just like only Cassian truly understood what Feyre went through after spending years hungry. Does that mean Cassian should be with Feyre instead of Rhys because Rhys never went hungry?

Az has blushed for Elain, Mor, and Nesta in the book. Tharion blushed at Hypaxia. Someone other than Lorcan blushed over something Elide had said. I'm not getting their point.

Of course Elain tells her fucking fiance that having a mate means nothing to her. These are the best arguments they've got? Nesta didn't even want to tell Cassian he was her mate after falling in love and having copious amounts of sex.

Az did say, "what about Elain?". Then just stood there. It was Nesta who stared at him then went running for Elain's tent. And he did say he was getting her back....after Cassian first said he would but couldn't and Nesta laid down the challenge saying no one could make it into his camp. Az does love to prove himself the hero, does he not? Also, Az hid in Feyre's shadows, I'd say she's more responsible for Elain's rescues. Compared to Lucien who was willing to fight his way without power to try to get to the Night Court, the home of the most powerful High Lord ever to live and through Autumn where he knew he had a metaphorical (literal?) bounty on his head.

That was an amazing scene for Elain, was it not? Saving Briar. Saving Az. And something Az never once gave her credit for.

No, Az stayed seated when Eris made mention of Elain. He only exploded when Eris mentioned Mor. I can't believe they're trying to claim Az's anger was "built up".

Yup....CASSIAN offered Elain a knife first, not Az. Glad to know Az just stood by watching someone else do something for Elain first yet again. I guess it's a good thing Mor begged Az, with tears in her eyes, to sit out of battle. Otherwise he wouldn't have bothered offering Elain TT at all.

Her smile did lighten Az's shadows. Just like Az confirming that the shadows tend to vanish around her. Just like they are afraid of the sunlight. Considering he tells us they are his companions....why would he want them to disappear?

Yes....a female always wants to be responsible for making a male think of and being compared to his mother. Super sexy.

OH MY GOD! TRUE LOVE!!!!! She smiled at Az because she appreciated Az making a joke in response to Cassian's comment!!!! Men and women cannot just smile at one another without falling in forever love!!!!!!!!

Yes, so special "I've never participated in one of these" and Az says.......NOTHING. Such exciting conversation!

Az could have been staring at the garden thinking of Elain and her bond with Lucien and how he's jealous of Lucien because why did Lucien get a bond when he didn't. But then he went on to blush at Mor and stare at her with hunger. I don't know....maybe it's just me and my silly little romantic heart but I don't really enjoy a male who is fixated on two women at the same time.

However, if Az was interested in Elain, why did he ask Rhys if he needed to get her a gift than look relieved when Rhys said no?

Did they purposely put the "why not make them mates" under the wrong slide to make it look like it happened later in the series? That was ACOWAR, not ACOFAS. In ACOFAS Feyre tells Elain LUCIEN is a good male and why couldn't she talk to him? She repeats that Lucien is a good male (says nothing of Az) and tells Mor she wants them to be happy. Mor says both Lucien and Elain need time and that they will be happy.

Yes yes, SF. The book where Az gives Elain zero credit for anything, doesn't bother checking on "her", avoids her because HE can't handle her bond, can't admit to Rhys that he's over Mor, can't admit to Rhys that he's not just using Elain for sex, calls her a mistake before talking to Rhys and feels a spark in his chest over another females happiness.

I think I covered it all, right?

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #anti e/riel

[princeandreis]

one thing that i think sets wilbur soot apart from a lot of other mcyts is he’s extremely mature in the way he goes about content creation. not in terms of the content itself, but in the way he goes about his career and how he interacts with other creators. he’s not close with many of them, but have you ever heard of wilbur soot having earnest beef with somebody online? nope, you haven’t, because he’s bigger than that.

there are so many petty squabbles and controversies that crop up online, and wilbur is always notably silent. that speaks volumes about his priorities. he seems to understand that jumping into those arguments serves 0 purpose and only fuels things further. (he’s also probably aware that joining in on controversy of any kind tarnishes his brand, so it’s a smart move from a purely PR standpoint.)

still, when things get really ugly and involve his friends, he encourages his community to show kindness above all else. take, for example, dream’s sexuality controversy on twitter in april. wilbur didn’t address it explicitly, but he went live (for a regular stream) perhaps a day or two after everything exploded and spoke about how important it is to be kind to other CCs (clip here). maybe i’m showing my bias because i’m primarily a dream team fan at heart, but it meant so much to hear someone who ordinarily is silent during controversy speak up in defense of his friend.

that’s another thing: wilbur and dream don’t even seem to be close friends, and wil still spoke in strong defense of him, in the name of decency and kindness. this wasn’t one of wilbur’s closest pals who was being attacked, but someone who’s a fellow content creator and friend. wilbur and dream have worked together many times and seem to get along well, and clearly there is a high degree of mutual respect between them. wilbur didn’t have to address the controversy, but he saw his friend’s name being dragged through the mud; so he asked his own audience to treat dream (without using his name) with respect. just as wilbur does. and that’s something he does with every CC he interacts with.

it’s sadly uncommon to see a mcyt who is so well-liked across the board, and who gets along with everyone he meets. if you ask me, it comes from wilbur’s experience in the industry. he’s been doing youtube and streaming for many years at this point and in many different circles, like soothouse, smplive, smpearth, the dream smp, etc. he’s educated in his field, and he’s now also working in music— i can tell you from personal experience that musicians who expect to go anywhere with their career have to be able to work with anyone, even the most difficult and insufferable kinds of people. you truly can’t expect to succeed in any creative field if you can’t adapt to your environment and work well with others. (wil is also just a naturally charismatic and funny guy, so he sets others at ease right away. not everyone has that gift!)

anyway, i just think it’s so neat to see a creator who does exactly the kind of content he wants (be it the most batshit-insane thing you’ve ever seen), succeeds at it, and also is held and holds others in high regard. it’s a testament to his passion for his work, as well as his love for others. i’m sure there are mcyts wil has worked with that he might personally dislike, but you’d never know because he treats everyone around him with the same kindness, decency, and authenticity that he does his closest friends. i love wilbur soot the end

#wilbur soot #mcyt #more people should approach their careers the way he does (through a slight veil of mystery but also genuine love and kindness) #also theres this clip of him preventing tommy from shaking ass onstage at an event and u can just See his gears turning #like yes tommy is silly and excitable and sometimes crude and that’s his reputation but it didn’t fit the moment and wilbur saw that #it’s also one thing to be silly and excitable and crude online and it’s another to shake your ass onstage at a convention #like that’s a more personal display and a little undignified even for tommy so wil stepped in like a big brother should #hes so protective in a good way and it makes me :) #wilbur just has a lot of wisdom in everything he does and i truly admire that about him #analysis

[skitskatdacat63]

Mark Alan, Count of Queanbeyan

+ explanation & lore

Okay first I'll explain the drawing itself, and then go into Mark's lore a bit, so stay with me!!!

First of all, yep. Mark with long hair. When I first conceptualized how he'd look in this au, I just genuinely could not imagine him with the typical long curly wig. And that irked me, bcs its just sooooooo historically inaccurate for him to have had short hair, no wig. I sketched him and Jense out as chibis, I drew Mark with short hair, and literally wrote "haha wow he looks so bad with long hair!!" Hello, can I take back that statement? It's actually shocking how good he looks???? Maybe it's a testament to my skill that I could make this work. But I did! And man, shameful to admit, but this might be my best portrait ever 😭😭 Funny tho, guy I've barely drawn, and never as detailed as this, ends up being one of my favs. Mark, you bastard!!

^ lmao as you can see, I tried out a more Seb type wig and then realized ahhhhh nah, he needs a different style. And it worked so, yay!!! I've thought a lot recently, "man it would suck back then if you looked shitty in a wig" and I rescind that. I'm telling you, you think a man would look bad in a wig? I say think again, you're just not conceptualizing the right type of wig for him.

Also wow, its crazy thst I can finally actually visually see what he would look like next to others like Seb and Fernando in this au. Hehehe look at them!!! The boys!!!! Just need Jense :,)

Anyways, I digress, some lore notes about Mark since I don't think I've really talked about him in this au on main much.

He is, of course, Seb's closest servant. His Groom of the Bedchamber(yes that term makes me feel rabid.) He's actually also based on a real guy, whom was described as the Emperor's "favorite" and despite not technically having very important positions, he had a lot of influence because of his closeness and connection with the Emperor. So, yeah, I think that's gives a pretty good pic of Mark in this au :)

He's actually pretty satisfied with his role, but he does feel a bitter and jealous when interacting with others like Jenson and Fernando. Because Mark doesn't have a title, well not in the same way. He's a count, not a King, not a Prince. Yes he's nobility, but not in the same way. And he's satisfied being under Seb, because that's what Mark was raised to do, take care of and keep Seb in line. But often realizes he's never going to be on par with him, not in the same way Fernando can, even if he's Seb's closest confidant.

To build on that. He's very satisfied with his role, and even continues to be satisfied when Fernando comes into the picture. Fernando and Seb don't get along, Mark is always going to be the closest to Seb, always going to know him the best, take care of him the best. But he realizes, he would never get to marry Seb, he's not ranked high enough for that. He was raised to do what's best for the Emperor, he's never going to be able to compete with Seb the same way Fernando can. He really wants Seb and Fernando to succeed! To grow closer! But it still really hurts sometimes.

His closest friend, other than Seb, is Jenson of course(and eventually Fernando, after they stop growling at each other like they're Seb's dogs.) But he does get bitter about Jenson sometimes. Jenson is a prince, who had some great performances in battle. But eventually got tired of that lifestyle, and "retired" to being part of Seb's court. Mark can't really understand that. How do you throw that level of prestige and freedom away. How do you just become the Emperor's servant, when that was never what you were born for. But also, I think Jense definitely uplifts him, they just get along so well, and Jense truly cares for him, no other motives :)

LOL sorry I realize how depressing this sounds 😭 I think all of the above is just Mark at his most bitter, but he's genuinely pretty happy. Think of the whole "not bad for a number 2 driver thing", that's him in this AU. He knows his station, and god damn it, he's gonna be the best, most loyal groom there ever was!! He just cares for Seb so deeply, and it truly is his life path to serve him. Seb cares for him too, feels like he can always rely on him and always be reassured by him and his eternal presence in Seb's life. It's nice to have someone you can always fall back on. Sometimes literally. Yes he makes Mark carry him to bed.

Not to stray away from just Mark, but aaaaahhh the Martian in this AU. Just Mark having to put up with Seb's brattiness all the time, and care for him all the time :) He's so tired of catching Seb naked tho...Seb please put clothes on, this is not befitting of your station. Seb takes Mark with him everywhere, and they share the same bed on trips. Mark is always the first Seb goes to to ask his opinion. I said earlier that Mark feels like he cannot challenge Seb in the same way Fernando can, but Seb really wants him to honestly! He loves hearing Mark's thoughts and opinions. Mark is widely known as Seb's favorite, and is often seen as the second authority in the palace and in the court.

As for Webbonso? I think they really dislike each other in the beginning just because the roles that they're in. They both feel like they're pitted against each other, and ir doesn't help that Seb loves to tease them and often favor one in front of the other(he later realizes how shitty this is, and tries to rectify it, because he never intended to make them actually jealous, he just loves being bratty.) Eventually they realize they're in extremely similar situations(both beholden to and stuck eternally with the Emperor), and find comfort in each other in that.

Yep that's right...the palace is honestly one big polycule djkfkglg. But I hope thay explains Mark in this AU well enougg???? All you need to know: Seb's long-suffering servant.

#heres mark in a wig. if thats your thing! a thing that. no one asked for :) #BUT WAAAAAHHHHH MAN IM SO PROUD OF THIS HONESTLY #how the fuck does he look so handsome??????? #i never in a million years thought this wouldve worked. but yep! it does! #but i will say. bro looks like he should be on a dollar bill dhfkkglv #okay anyways yes i understand that this is extremely niche and very confusing to anyone outside my circle #but i hope you like it even if not????? im super proud of this one 🤭🤭 #my first time rly drawing him honestly. every other time has been chibis or an obstructed view #BUT THIS. THREW MYSELF INTO THE DEEP END. and i didn't drown! #gotta draw jense next. and his silly bicorn hat. cause hes that kinda guy #i was gonna put mark and jense together. but man i hate keeping art to myself that i finished already #im proud of it! must click post! no hoarding!! or ill never post it lol #aaaahh man im getting drawing men im surprised #im so happy w his expression. w his squiggly eyebrows. he looks very introspective #f1 #formula 1 #mark webber #boy king au #catie.rambling.txt #catie.art. #*sometimes I realize. man if i just took away the historical clothing and wigs and stuff #my art would have such a wider appeal 😭😭 #but then i realize. nah i dont give a shit. i draw what i want!!! and you guys will take 1700s Mark and you will LIKE IT

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

Alastor and Voxes rivalry is so funny because, aside from their differing perspectives on technology, they really aren't all that different personality wise. They're both master manipulator's that like being the center of attention, they're insecure about the fact that they need others for their power and success (Alastor with his soul owner, who I agree is Roo unless proven otherwise, and Vox with his fellow Vees), and they overestimate how powerful they truly are on their own until getting hit with a major dose of humility (Vox in "Stayed Gone" and Alastor when he nearly got killed by Adam). Heck, maybe these exact similarities may have contributed to their rivalry in the first place.

I adore them. Vox is my third favorite. He was my second but then Lucifer made his grand appearance. TBH I pretty much love all the characters but those three rank the highest by far.

I'm pretty much obsessed with Alastors relationships with everyone. His relationships with everyone beside Rosie and Nifty are oddly complicated. I pretty much walked into the show with the assumption that everyone out for their own. All cut throat and not caring who they step on to get ahead. Which we still sort of get but we also got hit with... found family and relationships-of sinners in Hell. I was going to make a whole post about it last night but it got late so I postpone.

They are both calculating showmen. Emphasizing their words and meaning with large arm movements and such. What I find more alluring is Alastor is more subtle about it but its more captivating. Alastor does do grand movements with his arms and hands. But he can make a grand entrance just by being silent. Either moving by shadow or in his battle, he was revealed to Adam buy standing still and quietly waited for Adam to take notice of him when the smoke clear and flew towards him. Which is quite a testament to his talent and skill as an entertainer and showman that he can command attention without doing anything. Vox is more flashy. I love how he enters a room. Even the less flashy entrance of him walking to his control room in "Stay gone". It was commanding attention even if the room was empty.

Both are similar but both are prideful but I think Vox is less so. Vox realize there's strength in numbers. I think one of the reason why Alastor more adamant about being independent and not relying on others is because of his contract. He lost the right to his own soul for relying on help of someone else. His reluctance to have aid and his pride is his downfall. Which we only starting to see happening.

I desperately want to know what exactly went down between these two. One of my first few post was about those two, and I still incline that's what mostly happen but also it was layered with more things im unaware of. They were clues they were once friends and how Vox reacts, it clearly ended by Alastor. Alastor referring Vox with "Old pal" is so condensing and mocking to further insult Vox.

I doubt we get it but I hope we get a flash back episode about these too. Their friendly banter between each other would be so entertaining. They would jab and jeer at each other preferred technology consistently.

I also want the same between Husk and Alastor. I'm positive they were friends before their deal. At first watch my impression was Husk gambled it away to Alastor in a drunken night of unable to stop gambling. But now the more I think of it the least probable it seems. It appeared turned to him. I think they arrange a deal with two outcomes. One that more favorable to each lord but did a game to finalized the true outcome of the deal. I was gonna make a post about that, probably next week tho.

I think Vox character becomes so complex when it comes to Alastor. Because Vox biggest shortcoming is he gets overly emotional. Which is ironic as he is the most mechanical character in the show. I believe he quite the strategist. Which what really got him to become an overlord and his main role in the Vees. I really hope season two show him really utilizing this ability and make him a proper 'villain' with it. He shown to be level headed and calm but then, the mention Alastor to him he goes of the rails. What interesting his emotions about Alastor is multilevel and complex. He feels so intensely about Alastor but the problem is...he feeling multiple emotions about Alastor intensely. It would be SO easy if he can just feel one thing. Either it be pure hate, pure heartbroken, pure rage, pure nostalgia, pure adoration. But no, he feels them all at once and its overwhelming. He needs to ruin and destroy Alastor or bring him down so he can at least feel he can in control. He needs to control Alastor to at least figure out how to control his emotions for him.

Vox in generally is a man who typically knows what he wants and typically get what he wants. Vox wants Alastor to acknowledge him and accept him, Either it be positive of negative. He wants a relationship with Alastor again either be love,mentor/protege/friendship...or what he settle on, rivery. But Alastor not really giving him that. Alastor barely register Vox since his return or acknowledge him as a rival. Alastor never takes Vox seriously, its all a big joke to him. Its drives Vox out of his computer chip mind. Vox is compelled to prove Alastor the Vox is to be taken seriously. He only feel valid when hell get the attention and acknowledgement from the only person he ever want it from in Hell. Alastor probably knows this and purposely ignores Vox when it doesn't demand his attention to further irritate Vox.

I love seeing fanart or fics that showcase how complex Vox can be. He not two dimensional -despite his face being one. That Vox ventures to take the opportunity to kill Alastor while weaken but when Vox facing reality and force to witness Alastor struggling, Vox in up defending and protecting him. While mumbling to save face that he only make Vox look cowardly if he killed Alastor in his pathetic state and only Vox has the honor to kill Alastor.

He doesn't want Alastor gone. He wants his vexation with Alastor gone, he wants his inadequacy caused by Alastor gone. But as the easy solution to solve those issues is to get rid of Alastor...which he sort of wants. But then again he doesn't. If Alastor gone, a part of Vox self is gone. Alastor is such a large part of Vox, that Vox would feel lost and empty if Alastor was truly gone. Alastor is Vox motivation and driven purpose to prove himself worthy. Alastor gone there's no push for Vox to be better in any aspect. Business, power, himself etc. He would never find much joy again when the victorious high of killing Alastor himself wears off.

Vox seemed disinterested in life in conversations until He discovered Alastor was back. The information brought new life to him. He is driven mainly by Alastor.

I am curious how Alastor feels about Vox. I'm sure more recently he more annoyed by Vox and disgusted by Vees business ventures but enjoy one upping him. But does he ever reminisce their better days together and miss Vox companionship? Feel the loss of their friendship. I want to say there are times he does but he better grasp at compartmentalizing and does not dwell on it too often.

I been wondering one of the reason that cost the rift that Vox has some type of recording Alastor that Alastor did not improve of. It seem that Alastor may not mind modern technology as there was a very clear picture of him. But since of that recording that ended their friendly relationship. Alastor took that as a lesson and distort any recording of himself to prevent it happening again. Might be another call back for "This face is made for radio." Tho, I think that phase might be more of his mixed heritage in the early 1900s.

I am looking forward Vox having more role to play in season two.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin theory #hazbin thoughts #hazbin headcanons #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox

[pandoraslxna]

It’s almost November 1st and that means #LunasKinktober2023 is nearing it’s end and wow, it was a wild ride!

I wanted to take a moment to express my deepest gratitude to each and every one of you for your incredible participation and support during my first ever fandom event, and I also wanted to use this opportunity and pour my heart out over how much this community means to me. 🥹

Everyones enthusiasm and willingness to engage in this creative journey have truly made it a memorable and rewarding experience for me. It warms my heart to see the amazing responses and interactions that took place throughout the event. Your thoughtful comments, reblogs, encouraging messages, and the shared excitement have been a constant source of inspiration and happiness throughout these past few weeks and I can’t thank you guys enough for it.

I’m immensely grateful for the trust you placed in me by sharing your ideas, prompts, and personal stories! Your contributions have enriched the event and made it a space for growth, understanding, and celebration of our unique desires and fantasies.

I would also like to extend my appreciation to my readers and those who took the time to provide constructive feedback and suggestions. Your input has been invaluable in helping me refine my writing style and approach. I consider myself fortunate to have such an engaged and discerning audience who constantly pushes me to improve.

Lastly, I want to acknowledge the incredible sense of community that has emerged, and not just from this event alone. The connections and friendships that have formed among you have been truly heartwarming to witness. It’s a testament to the power of shared passions and the beauty of finding like-minded individuals who embrace and celebrate our differences. I still can’t believe I’m part of this fandom, part of this community where I can even call some of you my friends, pour my heart out to you and share my feelings, thoughts and secrets. You guys just make me feel so safe and seen and most importantly, you make me feel loved.

Once again, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your active participation, unwavering support, and the trust you have placed in me. It’s because of you that this event has been a resounding success. I‘m already looking forward to the next event we can participate together!

I love you all so so much 🫂🩵

-Luna 🌙

#lunaskinktober2023

[captainsophiestark]

Smooth Talker Part 2

Poe Dameron x Reader

Masterlist - Part 1 - Join My Taglist!

Requested on Wattpad! I normally don't do Part 2 requests, but an idea for this one popped immediately into my head and I couldn't let it go :)

Summary: Through a truly ridiculous series of events, you've managed to become a *triple* agent for the Resistance, being sent back to your original base by the First Order as a trusted spy after spending time as a Resistance spy in First Order territory. You can't wait to be back home, and even better, to tell your boyfriend Poe Dameron just what level of bs you managed to pull off.

Word Count: 1,522

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I tried to keep a smile off my face as I stood, back straight and hands behind my back, facing General Armitage Hux. He'd been my main point of contact for the past few months after he'd been the one to recruit me as a First Order spy, and the fact that I hadn't laughed in his face a single time that he'd been telling me all about what being a spy would entail was a true testament to my skills.

I'd been undercover for the Resitance deep in First Order territory when he'd come knocking with a bunch of soldiers because he suspected my apartment was a hideout for Resistance sympathizers and activity. And, to be fair, he was right. Poe Dameron, my boyfriend, had snuck in for a rare visit and left literal minutes before Hux and his friends showed up. But I'd done such a good job answering their interrogation questions that, instead of arresting me, they'd recruited me.

Now, after months of preparing, I was being sent on my way to find and infiltrate the Resistance's base. I'd need to be careful not to blow my true allegiances, but once I got out of range of the First Order and was only expected to make occasional reports, I couldn't help thinking this would be my easiest assignment yet.

"Are we clear on communication protocols and the kind of information we're most interested in?" asked Hux as I tuned back in to the end of his lecture. I nodded once, curtly.

"Yes sir."

"Good. Then best of luck to you. You're doing your Order a great service."

I saluted, fast and sharp, exemplifying the unshakeable, blind commitment they looked for in their recruits. I held it for a few moments, then Hux nodded and I let my hand fall back to my side.

"I look forward to hearing what you have to report."

The march through the rest of the ship felt like a dream. I was being dropped fairly far from anywhere the First Order suspected of being a Resistance base to make sure no one would be suspicious of me, but I was still closer to home than I'd been in a long, long time. I could swear I felt the latent tension of the past six months ease out of my shoulders as I watched the ship disappear without me on it.

I took a moment to enjoy the feeling, then quickly got my head back in the game. There was still a chance, however slim, that Hux was playing me. If I wasn't careful, I could accidentally lead the First Order right back to the Resistance base they'd spent so long looking for.

I spent the next week doing my due diligence, making sure no one was following me and that I didn't have a tracker on me anywhere that I didn't know about. I sent a brief update to Hux through the convoluted method we'd come up with for contact, telling him that I had a lead and was going to follow up on it, and then I finally started the trek home.

When the entrance to the Resistance base finally came into view another full week and change later, my heart leapt. It was vital to my cover that I didn't let myself dwell on how much I'd missed this place while living among First Order personnel, but now that I was finally safe, I almost starting crying at the sight of it. I hadn't really realized how badly I'd wanted to be back here until now.

I walked the rest of the way up with a massive smile on my face, scanning the crowd for anybody I recognized. I got some strange looks, largely from newer recruits who didn't know me, but then finally I found one of the people I was most hoping to see.

Poe Dameron stood just across the hanger with his back to me. I grinned and started walking towards him with purpose, and after a moment, the person he was talking to noticed me and pointed over Poe's shoulder. Poe turned around with a frown that quickly changed into a confused but beaming smile, then started rushing towards me. I sped up too, until we were running towards each other across the hanger. As soon as I got in reach, Poe picked me up and spun me around in a tight hug, then set me back on the ground only to pull me into a searing kiss. I kissed him back just as hard, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and tangling my hands in his hair. I ended up breaking the kiss as a joyful laugh bubbled out of me; finally we were together without the looming threat of a First Order solider at the door ruining the moment.

"What... what are you doing here?" he asked, still smiling and completely breathless. I laughed again, joy overflowing in my chest as I looked at the man I loved.

"You'll absolutely never believe it," I said with a crooked smile. He raised an eyebrow at me, so I continued. "I've been recruited as a spy for the First Order."

"...You what?"

I laughed as Poe stared at me, brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what was happening. I couldn't exactly blame him–I still wasn't totally sure how I'd managed to get here.

"It's the craziest story you'll ever hear, and I promise to tell you every last detail later tonight. But right now, I should really go and see Leia."

"Now hold on a minute," Poe said, grabbing my waist and pulling me a little tighter to him. As if I'd be moving away from him voluntarily any time soon. "You have to give me a little more than that, first."

I smiled. "Okay, but you have to promise not to freak out when I tell you the first part."

Poe frowned, looking incredibly nervous, but nodded anyway.

"Alright..."

"So remember the last time I saw you, when you visited me in the apartment where I was hiding out to spy on the First Order? Well that same night, right after you left, General Hux and Kylo Ren themselves came knocking with a whole host of troopers at their backs."

"They WHAT?"

"You said you wouldn't freak out! Just listen."

I could see Poe practically vibrating and fuming with delayed panic and about a thousand questions, but to his credit, he managed to hold them back with nothing more than slightly tightening his grip on my waist.

"Well, they asked me a bunch of questions because they thought a Resistance spy base was operating out of my apartment-" Poe winced, but I ignored him and kept going. "-and I answered the questions well enough that they decided I was clearly a loyal member of the First Order with a passion for them and their rule. So, instead of arresting me, they recruited me to be a spy! Of course I said yes, and now I'm here as a triple agent, so I can feed them a bunch of bad information, or information that comes just a little too late for them to do anything about it while still being correct, all while being here again, on base with you and everybody else."

Poe huffed a disbelieving laugh, just staring and blinking at me for a few moments while he processed. Then a smile spread across his face again, even as he shook his head.

"That is... incredible. I can think of about a thousand other things I could say about it too, but... just wow."

"I know," I said with a grin. I stepped back slightly out of his embrace, then took his hand instead. At some point we would have to go do separate activities on base, but I didn't plan on spending a second away from Poe right now until I had to. "Now, I need to go talk to Leia and Major Ematt about all this. Come with me?"

Poe matched my grin, still shaking his head but letting me pull him out of the hanger base with me.

"Of course. I'd follow you anywhere, you absolute maniac."

I just laughed as Poe fell into step beside me, our hands still held tight as we marched through the base. By no means was this war over; we still had so much work to do, and being back on base didn't even come close to putting me out of danger. But now I was in danger and fighting alongside Poe and all the people I cared about, while still putting my skills as a spy to full use. It was the best of both worlds, and in the middle of fighting back against an Empire that just didn't want to stay down, victories like this alongside loved ones were the things most worth fighting for.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

#star wars #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars oneshot #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron oneshot #poe dameron imagine #star wars sequels #star wars sequel trilogy #general hux #first order #resistance #general leia organa #spy #kylo ren #armitage hux #the resistance #oscar isaac characters

[anna-scribbles]

hey hey anna zo @zodoods back again after reading thirteen i am dumping my thoughts at you because wow idk where else to put them

if i had to describe thirteen as a feeling it would be like a pit in your stomach of nerves and grief and man the sick feeling i had while i read every one of adrien's interactions with emilie and gabriel...you are such a remarkable author truly

scenes that will rotate in my mind forever and ever:

adrien waiting till his mum is in a good mood to ask if he can go to school, immediately pulling back when he senses that he's displeasing her...i think this "people pleaser" behaviour is just so adrien agreste (as a child) that theres this real stark contrast to the 'present' bits where he's talking to marinette and he's not as afraid to displease her in the same sense??

gabriel pushing his son into modelling..the way he was so uncomfortable at the way he was being portrayed,,it really broke my heart like the lengths adrien goes through to please his parents

plagg putting sticky notes on things (being adrien's shoulder to lean on . as he should)

i need to sit on this chapter a bit like i need to let it rise in the oven that is my mind i need to open it like im opening a dusty box in the attic and brush away the dust its just it made me feel a lot and i think thats just a testament to this fic as a whole!!! cant wait for the next chapter <3

HIIIIII ZO IM ANSWERING THIS SO LATE BUT IVE BEEN THINKING AND SMILING ABOUT IT EVER SINCE YOU SENT IT<3333

oh that comparison between how young adrien's interactions with emilie are so fear-based still even though he loves her vs now-adrien isn't afraid of marinette oh im gonna cry so hard!!! yes you get it!!!!!

AUGH yyeah honestly while prepping to write this fic I did some digging into stories of child actors/stars and things they felt like they had to do and how it impacted them and I really wanted to get that discomfort and loss of autonomy across there

thank you SO much i love plagg and his sticky notes he's a menace and also my best friend<3

thank you thank you for reading and for such a sweet ask!!! ahh im gonna treasure it in my heart forever!

#<333 #asks #thirteen #anna rambles

[elijahs-dumps]

What Happened to Gonzo's Queerness?

Gonzo is, undeniably, the Muppet that Disney has struggled to keep consistent and in character the most. But why is that? If we take a look at any recent Muppets projects, from Muppets Haunted Mansion, to The Muppets (2015), or even Muppets Most Wanted, Gonzo is simply a shell of his former self. An entertaining shell at that, but a shell nonetheless. Before we can get into the how and why though, I’ll explain a little bit of who Gonzo really was when featured in the Muppets of the past. 

A Brief History of Past Gonzo

Gonzo’s key traits have always been that he is zany, immature, unpredictable, and often takes things far too literally. While “Modern Muppets” keeps these core traits in the Gonzo of today, he still lacks his usual depth. Often people overlook the fact that any of the Muppets have depth at all, but they’re all given their own moments, especially film to film.

I think a perfect example of what I’m talking about is his song, “I’m Going to Go Back There Someday”, from the original Muppet movie. Within The Muppet Show no characters ever struggled that much with overarching plots or even real negative emotions that carried from episode to episode. But in film where an episodic format won’t work, you need these small subtle layers. Your characters all have to have more obvious wants and needs to move the story along, or else it’ll all fall flat. This song is just a testament to the Muppets seamless transition from television to film. The number humanizes and grounds a character that is often perceived as ignorant or carefree by giving him a single wish, a wish to return to the sky like he did previously in the movie. Gonzo wants to be free from the world and view it simply as a spectator, completely at peace. It’s a childish wish, but a real and relatable one. The layers of this song can go deeper when you take into account the fact that Gonzo is the only one of his species, and probably spent most of his life alone or without a true home before the Muppets. Combine this with the fact we’re at the lowest point in the movie where all hope seems lost in the middle of nowhere, and then have all the other Muppets in the scene do backing vocals, it becomes a really somber and special moment for the movie as a whole. It connects well with Gonzo, the other Muppets, the film’s story, and audiences around the world. 

Other moments that showcase this level of subtle emotional complexity can be found in The Muppets Take Manhattan during the song “It’s Time for Saying Goodbye”, or throughout the entire Muppets from Space movie where Gonzo discovers and comes to terms with his own identity and place within the world. 

Muppets Haunted Mansion tried to recreate some form of a plotline for Gonzo, but because there was such little set up the pay off felt out of place. The idea was to have Gonzo briefly struggle with the idea of being alone and losing the attention of his friends, but it didn’t even really connect to any past storylines with Gonzo or even past moments within the movie, and just felt forced. Especially since he never truly grew at all from this experience either. 

But depth wasn’t the only thing we lost from Gonzo in the “Modern Muppets”, we also lost so much of his queer-coding. In the past, Gonzo has always been shown as unidentifiable in both gender, gender expression, and sexuality. Some of my favorite pieces of evidence towards this include the Gene Kelly episode of The Muppet Show where Gonzo distracts Miss Piggy so he can be serenaded by Gene Kelly. Gene briefly acknowledges how strange this is, but Gonzo seems unconcerned and so the two sing a love song together and all is well. Gonzo often does this, flirting with both male and female guests on the original show, as well as cross dressing throughout all five seasons of the show. Gonzo also cross dresses on the original Muppet Babies show from the 1980s, and there is even a Muppet Babies picture book from 1986 titled “What’s a Gonzo?” in which Gonzo and the other Muppets try to figure out what Gonzo is, only for Gonzo to be confronted by other versions of himself and told that he doesn’t need to know what he is because he knows who he is. Then, of course, there is also the iconic washroom comic strip from the officially licensed “Jim Henson’s Muppets” comics from 1981-1986, which I will be inserting below! 

Flanderization

Flanderization is the process through which a complex fictional character’s essential traits are oversimplified to the point where they constitute their entire personality. The term’s name is a reference to Ned Flanders from The Simpsons. 

While the Muppets aren’t exactly “complex”, they do have a certain level of depth like I’ve previously explained. Watering them all down to their most well known traits is what causes most problems with the “Modern Muppets”. Obviously, all new versions of the Muppets have been put through unfortunate amounts of flanderization. However, even though all the Muppets have suffered through a similar treatment, I still feel like Gonzo takes the brunt of it. This is also because Gonzo is one of the only core Muppets who has become less of a main character than before. Meaning he doesn’t actually get a lot of screen time, especially when compared to the movies from before Disney bought the Muppets. 

Why is This Happening?

This answer as to why any of this is happening at all is actually quite simple; it’s not marketable! In order to rebrand the Muppets, Disney has had to take the safe approach when it comes to reminding people why they liked the Muppets to begin with. However, in trying to keep things simple as far as character work goes, we then lose that character integrity which is what makes these “Modern Muppets” feel so hollow. Obviously this did not work at all, because Disney had stripped these characters so thoroughly, they thought they could do whatever they wanted with them and no one would notice. Cough cough - The Muppets (2015) - cough cough. 

So yes, while Gonzo does keep some basic sense of his personality through taking things too literally, participating in crazy stunts, and just acting pretty random, it’s such a toned down version compared to the Gonzo so many grew up with. Especially when it comes to all his queer coding, Disney is often too afraid of backlash to even put things like that into their kids or family orientated media. This could potentially be a reason why they sort of shoved Gonzo out of the main cast in everything but promo. The only time they attempted this was around 2021 with the reboot of the Muppet Babies and an episode titled “Gonzorella”. The episode was actually quite charming, and follows young Gonzo as he decides how to tell his friends he wants to wear a princess dress to their costume party. It’s a nice concept, completely in character for Gonzo, and a good message for children about how you don’t have to look how people will expect you to look all the time. It also helps to break the stigma around “boys clothes” and “girls clothes”. Still, lots of parents were very angry about this episode and claimed it was Disney’s “new woke agenda” that was turning the Muppets into something they’re not. As if the Muppets haven’t always inherently been queer-coded and a part of queer culture! 

Conclusions

So, if the Muppets are being washed out to their most basic selves more and more with each new project, what does this mean for the future of the Muppets?

Honestly? Nothing good, in my opinion. The franchise has been going downhill for quite some time, but I don’t think I’ll ever come to dislike it. If you don’t like these “Modern Muppet” adaptations, then that’s more than fine. I just personally don’t see it improving anytime soon, especially since Disney so rarely puts out any Muppets content that doesn’t get canceled. If they do put anything new out, I’ll obviously be the first to watch and praise it, because I really do enjoy the Muppets a lot.

I think the saddest thing here, and the reason I made this little essay, is that Gonzo’s queer-coding will only be lost in translation the more that time goes on. At least, that’s how I see it. The backlash Disney got for that episode of the Muppet Babies is exactly the kind of thing the company is always trying to avoid, especially with the media they make for young kids on Disney Junior. I doubt they’ll ever try something like that again in Muppets media aimed for small kids. And in the family targeted content Gonzo has only become a less and less prominent character. 

That being said, this is all just my opinion based on what I have seen and studied.  I will always be holding out a small sense of hope though, and I will still continue to see Gonzo as a queer icon in my eyes regardless of what he does in future projects! 

UPDATE: If you made it to the end of this essay YAYY!! TYSM<33 In case anyone was wondering, my next piece is gonna be about Kaz Brekker from Six of Crows and morally grey characters in general. It will not be a critique of the character or his fan base though! I don’t always hate on everything lol. However I will probably be talking about online book communities, like Booktok, so prepare yourselves for that if you plan on sticking around :3

#the muppets #gonzo #gonzo the great #kermit the frog #disney #lgbtq #nonbinary #queer #queer community #miss piggy #analysis

[no-1-rosalind-lang-apologist]

The way Chloe Gong pulls off fake deaths the way she does is an amazing testament to her skill as an author.

Usually fake deaths cheapen the blow of losing a character. You have to go through all of the emotional turmoil of losing a beloved character and watch everyone mourn them only for everything to be okay because actually they were kind of integral to the plot and the author needs them but also they also wanted to make the book sad for a little bit but hey everything is okay now!

But Chloe Gong doesn't do this. She gets you invested in what you usually know from the start is a doomed story. She makes you very desperately want to believe that the character that you know is going to die won't die. And then. She kills them.

And it's horrible. You mourn for them. You have to watch the other characters react to the death. But most of the time, it's a fake death. And even if you know or suspect this from the beginning, it still hurts, often just as much, if not more, than it would if the death were real.

And not just because of the way she writes grief, which gets more and more painful with each new book she releases. But instead of killing off a character for a quick gut punch and bringing them back because they were actually way too important to kill and she needs them for the plot, she uses fake deaths to create these absolutely insane scenarios that are often, at least in my opinion, more painful then just killing off the character.

When Marshall fake died, for example, she could've just had him die and forced Juliette to deal with the grief and guilt of killing her friend as well as the implications of Marshall's death for her relationship with Roma plus everyone else's grief and then created a weird situation where Roma can just,,, get over her killing Marshall and still like her. Instead, she creates this absolutely insane situation where Juliette is still grieving for the loss of her relationship with Roma, and Roma and Ben are grieving for Marshall all with Marshall still being alive. And rather than just using Marshall as a plot device to be sacrificed to make the other characters more interesting, she makes him more interesting as well. She forces him to watch as Benedikt and Roma grieve for him, making his relationship with both of them, as well as Juliette more interesting in the process.

And then when Roma and Juliette fake died at the end of OVE, even if you suspected it, it being fake doesn't take away from the pain very much, especially knowing what happens in Foul Lady Fortune. Alisa, whose only real family was arguably Roma and Benedikt, is left behind to raise herself and she is too afraid to check to see if Roma and Juliette are really dead. Because if they are dead, then she's truly alone, clinging onto the false belief that hope won out while everything she ever knew disintegrates around her. Plus, even though Benedikt and Marshall figure out pretty quickly that the death was fake, they're still forced to cope with the grief and guilt of having had a hand in the situation and forced to flee the country with only each other, thrust into a world where their best friends are dead and the hope that they are relying on to get themselves away from everything is based on the same sense of hope that ultimately lead to the "deaths" of Roma and Juliette. And then there's the cruelty of the sense of responsibility Rosalind feels for their deaths. And how after they died, she became deathly ill, but like them, was inexplicably saved. But she can't move on from their deaths and spends every waking hour and every unsleeping night of her immortal life trying to put the broken world they left behind back together. And Celia sees Alisa and Rosalind regularly. As she watches two people who she cares about immensely suffer for years after the deaths occurred, she can't say anything. Even though her first loyalty is to her sister, she's forced to watch Rosalind grieve and become a ghost of a person who seems to derive purpose solely from the pursuit of an impossible mission. And Roma and Juliette, who so deeply wanted to make the city better are forced to watch as things get worse and worse and the people that they seemingly sacrificed everything to save continue to suffer.

In Foul Lady Fortune, the fake deaths are a little different. So far, the only characters who have fake died are Dao Feng and Lady Hong, the later of which falls into this trope a bit more loosely. In Dao Feng's case, it leads to worry then betrayal on Rosalind's part. Her worry was all for nothing, and she's once again put in a place where one of the few people she dared to care about has left her and likely never truly cared about her in return (at least as of the end of FLF). Assuming that he did genuinely care about her based on As You Like It, I am very interested to see how this ends up playing out.

Lady Hong's case is somewhat similar. Although we never really think with absolute certainty that Lady Hong died, Orion suspects that his father could have done something to her and has no concrete explanation for her disappearance. He grieves her absence even though her relationship with him was always iffy at best. Only to find out that she never cared for him as anything other than a tool for her to take advantage of. Like Rosalind, he is left feeling used and as if all of his grief and pain were for nothing.

(Hiding the part below this because of huge Immortal Longings spoilers)

In Immortal Longings, you know that either Calla or Anton is going to have to die at the end because of the structure of the games. And as their relationship progresses, you dread the resolution more and more. You want a fake death. You want them to find some hole in the rules that will allow them both to survive. And Calla comes up with a plan that allows this. She gives you false hope. She lets you cling to the idea that the horrible ending you can so clearly see coming won't happen. And then that hope is snatched away, and you're even closer to the ending. And you know what's coming. You know that Anton has to die. And then the final crumb of hope is snatched away from you and they're in the ring together. And just when it's too late, Anton tells Calla that they could run for the wall together. He's finally willing to set aside Otta Avia, without who they wouldn't even be there in the first place. But it's too late. Because this is bigger than either of them. And Calla knows that she has to kill him. And she sinks her knife into his back in some of the most excruciating paragraphs I have read in my life. You see Anton realize that although he was willing to make a run for it with her, she has bigger plans. She isn't doing him a kindness by killing him first, and even though she may be planning on ending her own life as well soon, she cares more about killing King Kasa than she ever did about him. So when, at the very end, it is revealed that Anton somehow survived, it's somehow a million times worse than if he had actually died. Even though you so desperately wanted the book to not end in on or both of them dying, this isn't what you wanted. Now, he's alive and remembers just how willing she was to sink a knife through his back. And Calla must grieve for him all over again because even though he's alive, she surely can never truly have him back after what she did.

In conclusion, Chloe Gong is a legend and a genius. Thank you for coming to my tedtalk I guess.

#help i just realized how long this post is i genuinely have no idea how long i spent writing this i think i was in a trance #this has been sitting in my drafts since i finished immortal longings ooops #this is also a testament to how she handles miscommunication incredibly well #will forever defend 90% of the most hated tropes because usually they're just badly carried out and not recognized when done well #i think this is probably the longest analysis i've ever written oops #oh the things i will do to procrastinate my homework #chloe gong #secret shanghai #these violent delights #our violent ends #foul lady fortune #foul heart huntsman #last violent call #tvd #ove #flf #fhh #lvc #immortal longings #flesh and false gods #il #fafg #juliette cai #roma montagov #marshall seo #benedikt montagov #rosalind lang #celia lang #alisa montagova #orion hong

[runwayrunway]

No. 2 - Kalitta Air

I’m really thrilled by how much you all enjoyed my Lufthansa rant. Here’s something...a little different. Just to rub in that I don’t inherently hate liveries just for having a mostly white fuselage, I wanted to talk about an example of that being done a lot better. I will also be doing so in a length which will probably be a bit more typical of this blog. I hope you all enjoy it regardless!

Kalitta Air (formerly Connie Kalitta Services and American International Airways; callsign “Connie”) is a cargo airline headquartered in Ypsilanti, Michigan. You see their planes around a lot if you randomly click on flightradar24 flights, especially over North America, but they don’t carry passengers, so to my knowledge they’re not a household name. At least, the friends I surveyed had never heard of them. 

(image: kalitta air)

But their low profile conceals some pretty stylish planes. So, let’s discuss!

Like I said, I don’t blanket dislike mostly-white liveries just because most of them are super boring and Lufthansa’s in particular is terrible! So I wanted to follow it up immediately with an example of a mostly white livery which I really like - Kalitta Air’s sleek and iconic paint job, which the airline adopted (as far as I can tell from digging around) in the late 1980s. 

It truly feels like Connie Kalitta’s main gig as a racecar driver transferred to the look of the planes with his name written on the side. (...what is it with racecar drivers and starting airlines? I mean, two nickels, but...)

The majority of Kalitta Air’s fleet are Boeing 747s, which does add to the look, in my opinion. Their fleet even contains the last 747-400 ever built! The iconography feels like it transitions well into the hump, and the entire thing looks balanced. 

(image: kalitta air)

I’ll be honest, something is definitely lost on the remainder of the airline’s fleet, made up of Boeing 777s, in a pretty major way, but it doesn’t cancel out just how much I love the look of the 747s. Still, because the airline has kept this livery for so long, we can look back to the past to experience it on all sorts of shapes. 

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I still prefer the 747. That’s pretty incredible - I’m of the opinion that nearly all liveries look their best on a TriStar, so that opinion is a testament to just how incredibly good this livery looks on the Queen. It’s an acceptable-to-good livery on any plane, don’t get me wrong, but the core 747 fleet wears it transcendently well. (I am ignoring the 777s.)

If you’ve seen a Kalitta Air plane for more than a few seconds it’s likely the pictured N700CK, which got to flip a few assorted vehicles with her jet blasts in the 2007 Mythbusters episode “Supersized Myths”. Their 747s have been used in other media, but this is the main example. I think they couldn’t have picked a more striking plane to use. 

Just look at the thing! The combination of red and gold makes it feel flashy and fast, a feeling which is added to by the swooping hockey-stick cheatlines which add a lot of interest to the fuselage with very little paint. It makes the plane feel streamlined and almost reminds me of the sort of paint jobs used on early high-speed trains. 

(image: Science Museum Group Collection) 

The font itself even feels fast, while being massive and quite legible even despite the shape of the A, and framed nicely on each side by the little wings. It does look a little like if a racecar was a cargo plane, and I love it. It’s not exactly maximalist, but every detail from the letters’ even heights to the ratio of gold to red feels perfect. 

If you’re going to do a mostly white paint job (and there are plenty of reasons that airlines generally prefer to), this is how you do it. 

Final Grade: A

N.B.          For the sake of my own mental health, I am not going to touch on the atrocious revision of two years ago in this post. At the least, it looks like they’re not repainting old airframes and they have a small-ish fleet so they’re not bulk-buying new ones or anything, which means this livery will probably be around for the remainder of the service life of many fairly new freighters. Because of that, I do not consider the classic hockey stick Kalitta livery to be retired, and will not be tagging it as such. That said, since it’s not their current livery for new planes, I also am not classifying it as a 2020s livery.

#tarmac fashion week #grade: a #era: 1980s #era: 1990s #era: 2000s #era: 2010s #region: north america #region: united states #kalitta air #cargo carriers

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 21

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

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

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

word count: 9.4k

a/n: Whoa haven't seen you guys since last year... LOL. This is very angst filled, sadly its our last vacation chapter. Back to reality but Javier and Andrea try some new... stuff... this chapter 🍑. If it isn't your thing thats okay!

But (no pun intended) on a less sexy note, Andrea meets some family this chapter.

Sorry for the wait was busy this month having a winter break fling (that's so like me) but back to reality.

Thank you for being so patient with me always.

This is for @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

The two of you leave the studio shortly after Edmond threatened to wring Javier’s neck for the first date joke, well it is our first date. Before that though you were honestly  eager to get out of the place, you needed him back in the hotel room, you needed to thank him with your mouth, with the warmth pooling on the tiny thong under your skirt. While Javi explains to Edmond that you are indeed the girl he had vented about when they first met, usually this would have made you a blushing mess but you were practically squirming in the stool. Your earrings catching the light casting a red reflection against the wall. Your eyes follow the light around the room as the two spoke, your mind drifting in places that could only be described as filthy. Edmond jokes that it had all worked out in the end, it took you a moment to catch up with their jokes. You had disassociated but Javier picked up on it and ushered the two of you out of the studio and back out into the Louisiana heat. 

“I have dinner reservations so behave.” He whispers before grabbing your hand in a sweet possessive hold. Your brows quirk slightly before leaning into him completely. He seemed to be hyper focused on getting the two of you to the proper place at the right time because his eyes went all squinted while he walked you through the busy sidewalks. 

“I am behaving.” You were, sure, maybe it was a bit rude of you to look around the room aimlessly while Javier caught up with his old pal, but you truly didn't mean to. There was something about girls like you, girls who craved to be wanted–once you get a taste–insatiable is the only word to describe you. So insatiable that you couldnt give a fuck about a dinner date with Javier Peña, it was so like you. So like you to feel so overwhelmed with love, a feeling so foreign, so strong that now you can't think of anything else but the thought of him inside of you. Good lord you were soaking. 

His cheeks were still red, either from tears or the high sun. Regardless he looks down at you with a teasing smirk that quickly hardens and turns into a disapproving head shake. “I saw you out of the corner of my eye, querida. Wiggling around in that stool.” He says in hush tones, you break eye contact in slight embarrassment. You know that annoys him, when you shy away because you feel his body stiffen. Poor Javi, you think. One day he’ll understand you fully, he knows you better than anyone else  but he still isn't used to your self-destructive tendencies of self-manipulation and constantly wondering whether he truly likes you. And despite today being the greatest testament of his devotion for you there was still that part of you that was a girl without a father. How humiliating? You also know he is never truly upset with you, even when he stands up straight and huffs a breath, it's always followed by silence, his space to try to figure you out.

There's a lot to learn, six years apart is too much for anyone. You've become four different people in these six years. 

By the time the two of you entered the warmly lit restaurant you've given your brain some time to think of meeting your grandmother tomorrow, now thats a thought to have you quit squirming. The desire you felt so heavily only half an hour before left in an instant at the thought of what's to come tomorrow. As you settle in your seat the thought of your father not being alive crosses your mind, instinctively you touch the bee earrings softly.

You feel Javi watching you with intent, a small frown on his lips as he adjusts his belt buckle while he sits. If your stomach wasn't doing turns from impending doom you would have made a big dick joke, you suddenly didn’t have it in you. You quit touching the earrings and let out a shaky breath before grabbing the menu. 

“What’s wrong Andrea?” He asks, stern, almost like it's a statement. Like nothing is not an answer he’ll accept. He knows something is wrong. 

“I’m really nervous for tomorrow.” You admit without any tooth pulling. Uncrossing your legs beneath the table, Javi nods firmly he knew how to react to you when you admitted things like this. There's nothing you hated more than someone screwing their brows in concern and pity, he never did that. He just nodded, solid, dependable and able to listen. He doesn't respond so you continue. Brushing a piece of hair from your face you sip the water given. “I also don’t want this weekend to end. I don’t want to go back. I especially don’t want to go back if tomorrow goes bad, I don’t have it in me to explain that to my mother.” There it was, that other part. The sheer embarrassment that could be awaiting you, the possibility of being humiliated by your paternal family and coming home to a mother that will look at your tear stained cheeks and say, I told you so. 

Javi clenches his jaw at the slight shake in your voice, and it’s so like him. He puts his large hand palm up at the small table between you two. Your heart grows in your chest and without hesitation you place your own small hand over his. Manicured nails circling the dry lines there, his thumb rises and wedges between two fingers tickling you a spot you never knew tickled. You choke out a giggle and dug your nails into his palm, he winces in fake pain. Ow, he grumbles. You take his hand entirely and lifts it to your face, pressing a kiss to his palm. He smiles, his dimples deepening and his eyes crinkling. “Sorry.” You say and kiss his palm again, “Sorry for attacking you with my nails even though you’ve made me the happiest girl in the world today.” 

He shakes his head in a shy little act, wow, you wanted to jump his bones again. “It’s okay I like it when you’re rough.”

“Oh shut up.” You laugh, pressing his palm to your cheek before placing it back down on the table. “And I’m sorry for ruining the mood with my sulking.” 

 “Don’t apologize to me.” Javier furrowed his brow in disapproval, “If tomorrow doesn’t go the way you plan I’ll extend our weekend, give you time to recover here. Don’t care if it’ll be obvious to everyone that we’re together, we’ll figure it out.”

Your lips quirk in a satisfied smile, you’ll take it. You were minutes away from suggesting the two of you stay in New Orleans until the damn wedding Saturday. The two of you were so in love it was hard to be logical. Hiding your face a smidge as you lift the menu to cover your crimson cheeks. “Okay, that's fine with me.” 

“God I wish I knew she was that mean to you–I’m like regretting being her friend a little bit.” You were slurping down pasta with a frown, hearing stories from high school about Lorraine. The more he uncovered, the more you regret giving her grace. Every new piece of information was followed with Javier’s attempt to excuse it. You suppose the both of you have some things to learn, you wanted to tell him that her actions and his faults were not in the slightest bit comparable. Like;

On valentine's day she got drunk and purposefully poured wine on my favorite sweater in front of all my friends. But she was mad because I skipped sunday mass with her family the week before. 

Or,

I was really upset with her cheating, but she blamed it on the time I called you pretty in front of her. I guess to her that was emotionally cheating.

You sat in front of him with your mouth agape, or you cursed under your breath before shutting yourself up with carbs. “None of that is normal, you shouldn't make excuses for that sort of behavior. I doubt she does when she complains about you to other people.” You say while dabbing the corners of your lips free of marinara. 

He laughs and nods in agreement, “You're right, I want to be the bigger person though. No need to be upset on my behalf querida.”

The 2nd glass of wine gets to you slightly as you roll your eyes aggressively, feeling awfully protective of your boyfriend. You remember which sweater it was, it was the white knitted one he wore to his last christmas at home, he would wear that thing to every holiday. “Whatever, god forbid I feel defensive over my man.” You whisper and bring your glass to your tinted lips. Javier’s lips quirk at its corners, you know he loved hearing that come from your mouth. You noticed it just thirty minutes prior when you told the waiter, my boyfriend would like the same. You picked up on the way he shifted in his seat when you called him baby. For the past 10 minutes you had been slipping the pet names slowly and scattered, he was getting worked up. Look who needs to behave now. 

“Hmm.” He huffs, annoyed, turned on, grumpy and everything else.

You bite back a tipsy smile, slipping your pointed heel up his calf slowly, until the outsole skated his inner thigh. He shakes his head and looks to you through a half lidded gaze. “Relax.” His voice deep and striking, loud enough for the other patrons to hear. You nod in agreement and attempt to move your foot back down but before you could make the effort his hand falls between his spread legs and holds your delicate foot in place on his lap. Your breath hitches in your throat, your leg pulled so still your skirt rides up. Saving yourself from the breeze, your left leg tightens to cover the soaked fabric now exposed. 

With his right hand holding your heeled foot and his left hand on the table, he grabs his glass and continues at his drink. Your breath is hitched in your throat, you feel his stare. His eyes glued to your chest, your nipples pebbled under the fabric. You don’t listen to his demand, incorrigibly you lean forward releasing some tension with the press of your legs and the hip movement required for you to move closer. “Why are you being so mean?” 

His eyes narrow, “Mean? A weekend getaway, museum date and those pretty earrings.” He teases and you nearly laugh, nearly, truthfully you were so turned on you couldn’t care to play these games. You’ve had years to do that. You survey the restaurant, there had only been about ten tables and each paired with a couple or a group of men in suits. Your eyes dart to the family bathroom, Javier follows your line of sight with a smirk. No families, you note. Less guilt for what you’re about to do. 

You drop your heel from his hold and wipe the corners of your mouth, “Well, you’ve spoiled me Javi.” You shrug, adjusting your small cardigan to cover your pointed nipples. He laughs a hearty chuckle. Your face falls to straight seriousness, hair readjusted. His nostrils flare at your hardened look.

“Rotten.” 

Your eyes shrink with a slight hint of petulance. Like a little girl not getting her way, absolutely not. Eyes scanning the room once more, “Well if you’ll excuse me. I’m going to take care of myself in the bathroom.” You huff before rising to your feet. Feeling the table to your right shooting a glance at your figure. With a strut of false confidence, your knees were buckling with fear he won’t follow you and just think you’re upset with him. It’s the last message you want to get across after he poured his aching soul to you at the gallery.

Javier watches you walk to the bathroom and close the door behind you. Well he watches to make sure no one else was watching because the pencil skirt you decided to wear curved perfectly below your ass, making it apparent to everyone that your behind was a tight little thing. Rolling his tongue against his cheek he waits a few seconds before pinching the bridge of his nose. 

He knows you, he knows you’ve been pent up since the gallery, since he put those earrings on you. How could he not know, you practically screwed your brows in bliss every time he took a look at you. Truthfully on their walk to the restaurant he was still reeling from the entire first date thing, he had never lost his composure like that—to cry in front of someone— to cry in front of you. He’d be a lying dog if it didn’t scare the living shit out of him. So scared that he nearly thought about just saying fuck it and getting down on one knee and proposing to you with some fucking earrings. 

He knew it before. He knows it now that what you too have is forever, beyond time and circumstance, there was no way you two could live a life with other people. What a discovery to make on a first date. 

Anyway those feelings of sheer terror and love, they’re the same in his head, were quickly replaced with every tiny possessive nickname you let leave your red bitten lips. He was fully hard by the time you decided to play footsie with him, he wondered if you felt the strain against his pants through your heels. He decided he was going to fuck you into the mattress when the two of you got back to the hotel but he supposes you had different plans. 

His eyes glued to his glass he picks it up and downs it. “Fuck it.” He murmurs before wiping his mustache, adjusting his shirt and heading for a straight bee line for the bathroom. 

You smile softly at him through the mirror, “I was starting to think you didn’t get the memo.” Javi nods, his mind set. Silent and brooding behind you. Your confidence seemed to have faded with each passing minute he contemplated whether to follow you or not. “I was afraid you thought I was really upset-Oh Javi.” You shriek the second he tosses your skirt over your ass. Instinctually bending a bit over the sink. Dropping to his knees, his dirty thoughts win as he slightly sinks his teeth into your tan behind. You giggle at the absurdity of it all, but he doesn’t care what it would look like to  anyone else. He was a man utterly in love with his girlfriend, and with how soft her ass was. 

Javier kisses each cheek of hers and laces each kiss with a bite then a firm tug. Kneading and kisses, his large palms have finally found something that he didn’t completely engulf. Why was it so sexy when his hand covered your entire breast yet even sexier that your ass finally dwarfs him? He’s never been a man above worship, above religion, still he had never believed in a god so clear, so real until he came home and had you. Was it normal to be this enthralled by a partner? Was it just the honeymoon? He really couldn't care anymore about those questions because god, Andrea, he murmurs like a prayer.  

With your skirt piled at your hips, the tiny little red thong was fair game for his needy kisses. His teeth graze the string that just barely covered the one part of you that’s untouched, you buck as his fingers spread you open, the loose string falling to the side to expose you there. “Anyone ever touch you here?” He asks with his left hand holding you open, and his right thumb skimming so close. He knows the answer. He wants to hear it. You screw your eyes shut, a small whimper escapes your parted lip. Your heels slip on the tile, he lets up his left hand to hold you steady. 

Tossing your hair over one shoulder and attempting to look back at him you whisper, “Never—I want to try but-”

But I’m not sure I want that sort of first time to be in a restaurant bathroom. You think.

He knows exactly what you mean, he knows how delicate this part of sex could be, he knew it's a lot more than a heat of the moment decision. He’d never, not in a place like this. Though, he had other ideas, “Another time, can I taste you here at least.” He taps at your cunt and you eagerly reach behind and slide your panties to the side. Javi smiles when he’s met with his girlfriend’s swollen cunt just for him. Good lord, he did not want to think about having to sneak around again. For the two of you to be limited beyond your control the second you step home. He wondered why he couldn’t just rent a home out here just for the two of you, just until he leaves. Will they be reduced once again to just twice a week, all pent up and hand-covering mouth sex in his bed. He tried not to think, tried. 

One thing the two of you have grown fond of is him eating you out from behind. This position was just like the second time, in his room on memorial day. You look over your shoulder, the cardigan slipped low to expose the tan shoulder of yours. With lidded eyes you stare into Javier’s soul as you reach your hand between his face and your bent form. With a shy blush your delicate fingers run across the seam of your cunt and slowly up to skim the tight hole that's been the object of Javier’s deepest fantasies. 

“You can taste here too.” You quip, you weren’t sure if people even did that. You could be making a fool out of yourself but you knew after his fingers got close to your asshole, you felt a new pit in your belly. Javier’s eyes raised and he suddenly felt like a kid in a candy store. Never in a million years did he ever imagine a world where you agreed to something like this. He mumbles deeply, Jesus Christ. You didn’t have to tell him twice. 

He plunged his face into your cunt first, quicker and less teasing this time, they were in a public bathroom for crying out loud. His licks and sucks are wet and aggressive. His head shaking in between. You drop your head into your chest and the slow build of release. If he kept up this pace you’ll be writhing in climax in thirty more seconds. You're not sure you were ready for the moment he proceeds to eat you out just there. For a moment you wonder if this is really something people do during sex, you’ve had girl friends who have tried anal but none of them ever mentioned their boyfriends eating them out there. You wonder if you're the first people to ever do this- or it’ll feel good at all. You surely weren’t ready, the second his heavy tongue slid up to your place untouched, and you weren’t expecting such a feeling.

You shrieked loud enough for the guests to hear. Javier’s heart sank and paused for a second while you covered your mouth.

“I’m sorry-I’m sorry.” 

Javier’s brows tensed, “Is it too much?” He asks lowly, looking up at the back of your head. You screw your eyes shut, and nod.

“No-I just didn’t expect for it to feel so good.” You whisper as if to do damage control for the shriek you let out, with your head dropped in shame you feel his chuckle between your cheeks. Okay, he laughs and continues again. You’re more prepared this time–yeah you two definitely aren't the firsts to discover eating ass. This has got to be popular.

His head moving skillfully, his chin skimming your cunt along with it. Shaking his head and devouring you whole. And oh, it was a feeling so good you were afraid to know what it would feel like if he applied more pressure than a tongue back there. You never saw the appeal in anything to do with anal—suddenly—you suppose it takes the right person. You always told yourself you’d never try any of that unless you were married or something— well close enough. Your knuckles go white gripping the porcelain tops. He parts for a second and spits directly on your ass, parting you to watch it slide down onto your cunt. 

“You like being a dirty girl? Yeah, Andrea?” he gets close again to clean up his mess and good gracious you were close. “Letting me eat your ass like this? Used to think you were so shy—now look at what you’re letting me do to you.” He dives in again, this time reaching his entire body leans with it. His hands gripping the tops of your thighs while he moves from your cunt to your ass and back-and back again. 

Your forehead presses against the mirror and you catch your own eyes for a moment and you’re absolutely disgusted by the sight. Disgusted in the best way possible. You are filthy, you love it—you loved this. You bend further to give him better access to your clit and you’re a goner. Your ears ring and you fall limp but like always he never lets you fall. He’s at his feet again, pressing your knees together. He unbuckles himself and relieves his aching cock from their confinement. You open your mouth to tell him to put it in but he speaks first.  

“I’m gonna come, just let me—fuck.” He grabs himself and fists himself over your bent body. “Let me fuck your thighs really quick—please princesa, let me—” He grits and you bite your lips at the thought. Your heart skips a beat or a few, so many firsts. Why is the thought so enticing?

Okay—please, you murmur and without hesitation he drags his cock between your folds, collecting slip before thrusting. He wipes his eye as an attempt to readjust his blurry mind. The post orgasm clarity will hit him soon, it didn’t matter now he was too pent up to care. He humps you from behind, his length squeezed by your thighs and his tip nudging your overstimulated clit. There was something depraved about the action, being used in this way. Being used and loving the way it feels.

And he’s driving fast, pre-cum spreading at the tops of your thighs. How he made sex so enjoyable was beyond you, all you could do is softly sigh and moan, nearly drooling from your mouth falling open. “Javi please– I-” Perhaps your moans were a bit too loud because his hand snakes up to your mouth, effectively muzzling you. You babble incoherent begs and moans into his dry palm, while his other hand death gripped your hips for stability. It didn’t take many thrusts for you to be coming again, his hand on your hip quickly snaked to hold your thighs tighter against him and with that he finished over the tops of your thighs, painting you perfectly. His own little art piece. 

There’s a ringing silence for a moment as he slips out from behind you. You catch your breath, wiping your tears away. Head heavy, too frazzled to adjust to the situation. Javier just ate your ass out in a restaurant bathroom and fucked your thighs. And you came twice in ten minutes. Jesus take the fucking wheel. 

“I-I’m sorry I’ve never done anything like that before.” You almost expect for those words to come from your mouth but it aches all the same coming from his. You turn around to him, knowing the sight is probably ridiculous, tear stained cheeks, a wrap skirt hiked up your legs and his come spread at the tops of your thighs.

Your eyes soften watching him fumble to tuck himself away. You could see his jaw clenched, you knew when his mind was on overdrive. This is one of those moments. Like he’s drafting ways to apologize to you. 

“I liked it.” You admit in a whisper. 

His brows shoot up and he looks up to you. The color in his face returning, as he fastened his belt. “You did?” 

You blush, your eyes falling to your thighs. “I did, we should try more stuff like that… it was… really hot.” You admit, looking up at him through your brow bone. His nostrils flare and he’s nodding. 

“Okay.” He nods sternly in the same old grumpy Javi way. 

Your lips twist at the silliness of it all. “Okay…” 

“Alright.” He’s still staring at your thighs. 

You giggle, “Jesus christ Javi! Clean me up!”

He jumps in place, “Right sorry.”

It’s safe to say that the two of you were quite full after the whole restaurant debacle. Frankly your last night should’ve been filled with endless love making but Javier could sense your nerves. After tipsy kisses and stumbling into the room the reality began to set in. You struggled to sleep that night, afraid of waking up to a packed room and a car ride to your grandmother's home. He slipped into the shower with you without any advances, you wouldn't mind it all but he reads you, he washes you without lingering touches and only a few kisses. The two of you find a rhythm, drying off, getting into his shirt and some panties. The two of you exchange stories before bed, who knew he was such a softy like you. 

“I’m always nervous before meeting old people.” You admit. Its a stupid quirk of yours but man do the elderly intimidate you. You chose teaching because you knew that dealing with the elderly would be far from that area. “They can be so judgemental and old fashioned, its painful– every conversation.”

Javier strokes his hand against your arm, “You're rambling. It's time for bed baby.”

He was right, you had no need to bring that up, you just really didn't want the day to end. Why is that you were so afraid of the thing you yearned for your entire life?

The morning is quiet and gloomy, it rained the entire night so the sky was all gray clouds with peaking sun. The entire room was packed by the time you sat up to rub your eyes. Your stomach is so uneasy you could only take four bites of the waffles he called in for you, no syrup, just butter and powdered sugar how you like it. He’s quiet too as he folds your clothes. You check out at twelve and load his car again. He kisses your temple before opening the car door for you. You nod a silent thanks before you settle into the car seat. Head leaned against the window. Reaching into the dash board for the map, finger tracing until it stops at the road circled labeled, Andrea’s Grandma, you smile to yourself thinking about Javier at his desk circling and routing a way to her grandmother's home the night before their trip. 

With fear of rejection you fiddle with the bee earrings in your ears, grounding yourself with the reminder of Javier even when he's right next to you.

The home was fairly close, only an hour away from the hotel. Javi smokes two cigarettes with the low sound of the road below the tires and slow soul music filling the car. It was then when you realized Javier was nervous too. You think of what he told you at La Belle Forme, about his panic attack. It was rare for silence to exist between them not like this. You kiss his knuckles, a few kisses, you suppose you found solace in comforting him. 

When the car slowed down you weren't expecting to be approached with large estates with rolling grass and bald cypress trees casting down like curtains. When Lorena called you pictured an elderly woman in a small home, you never envisioned a large white home attached to other small homes. You looked down at the map. 4289 Coventy Court, “Its the small house, the big one is 4287.” You point, it all seemed to be on the same estate though, you'll still have to walk through this strangers beautiful front lawn in order to get to your grandmothers. Javi nods, shutting the car off. Your hands drop to play with the ripped ends of the map. 

His palm comes over to your lap and grabs at your fidgeting hands, his hands always cold and dry and large. “¿Estás segura de que estás lista?” He asks so softly, he did that often, reassuring you in spanish. You inhale deeply, looking at your connected hands and then to the house peeking behind the large trees. You nod. 

And there it is, right In front of you— a physical manifestation of the answers you’ve prayed to hear. Everything you've ever wanted to know. It could split you completely, could kill you, but it could free you. A small part of you hopes it splits your heart in two so that you're prepared for heartache in November at the hands of the DEA. Who knew Javier could hurt you more than your father? When did you give him that power, you suppose it’s when you realized it was love. 

The two of you climb out of the truck and make your way through the cobblestone path, “I’m not going to get shot out here right?” Javi whispers and you cant even itch out a giggle from the coil of nerves in your chest, he doesn’t joke anymore. He trails behind you while you lead the way, like you know where to go— you haven’t had a fucking clue. With every tap of your sneakers on the ground you felt panic rise higher in your throat. 

You could feel Javier behind you, keeping his steps slower than your own. Giving you space you weren’t sure you wanted. You appreciated it nonetheless. Like he was ready to run and get the car if anything hurts you. He’s 3 steps behind you once you close your eyes shut before knocking on the light blue door. Your eyes surveying the plants lining the white porch. “¡entra!” A distant voice calls from beyond the door and its the same voice from the phone. Something in you bursts, your eyes dart to Javier in fit of panic. Fuck it. You open the door to the home. 

The astounding amount of pastels blind you. An entire rolling carpet of white at your feet, Javier holds his arm out before you nervously put your outside shoes inside this museum piece of a home. You saw her too, out of the corner of your eye. Sat in a wheelchair with hair pressed straight down to her hips, with a book in her lap – the sound of birds chirping splitting your ears as you unlace your shoes with shaky hands. Javier seemed to have slipped his shoes in record time because his socked foot took a step inside before he bent down again to grab your shoes and tossed them outside. 

Standing up straight the woman in front of you widens her eyes at the sight of you, her smile splitting her face in two and you arent sure if anyone had ever looked at you with such melancholy before. She was a beautiful woman, well kept from what you can see it seemed like she had a lot of help. For once in your life you feel strong, chin up and nearly smiling. Lorena fully smiles and there it is–You can finally pin point where your bright grin comes from. "Ven aquí! Get over here before I try to walk to you!." She shouts with that same accent you remember over the phone and with that you're padding over to your grandmother. Embracing her for the first time. Receiving kisses to the side of your head, and caresses and you don’t feel sad anymore–or nervous. You sat in front of her and Javier stayed in his lane, quiet and observing. His hand on your while she explained how she found your number. 

“My greatest friend Griselda moved to Laredo about a year ago. I had been pushing the poor woman to look through the phonebook for your name– I didn't know if you had our last name or hers. Whatever I found it and tried calling but your mother– you already know.”

You sure did, the conversation was what you expected it to be. She attempts to understand what your life has been like this whole time. You tell her your mother owned a boutique and that your brother was on his last week of being a bachelor, she teared up at that. You almost forgot she was around when your brother was just two years old, she laughs when explaining his biting problem. Her eyes fall between the two of you a few times, you and Javier and your joined hands. The way his were in your lap and  how your nail grazed the strong tendons of your lovers hands. She kept the questions Andrea central.

Did you end up going to college?

Yes, University of Miami. I’m a middle school teacher.

She laughs and claps her hands together, she tells you taught for thirty six years. Your heart nearly bursts in your chest. 

So are you living at home?

For now, yes. I’m looking to move soon.

Do you like your brother's wife to be?

Oh–yeah. She’s been my close friend since I was in middle school. 

She nods, turning to her left to grab her cup of tea. There had been two cups left out. She let you in on how she kept the place so tidy, her home nurse Ms. Cristina, who worked for her every day. She points to her bird cage at the corner of the living room which shows the only non-tidy part of the house full of bird seeds on the floor, They also take of me. 

“And this–.” She smiled, waving her finger in between you two. “How did you two meet.”

“Oh!” You laugh, Javier cracks a smile. “We-”

“Uh-No. I want to hear his story. Ha estado sentado ahí en completo silencio, habla, hijo.” She cuts you off in the only way elderly people know how, gracefully and silly all at once. Your cheeks burn red. Absolutely intrigued to hear his explanation. His face softens for a moment before he breaks into a deep chuckle. Rubbing his eye in that same nervous tick that he always does. 

“Oh–We were just kids when we met.” He was instantly interrupted by a yelp from your grandmother. 

“¡Ay, por Dios! Qué romántico. So you two have been together since then?” Perhaps it was rude but immediately you and Javier look at each other and let out a cackle in unison. Leaning into his shoulder as you giggle while your grandma sits confused, wondering what was so funny about her question. “What-What’s so funny?” She says with a hint of humor in her own tone.

Javier shakes his head and replies, “It took us close to a decade to get here.” His eyes flash to yours, soft and gleaming. He looks at you like this often—always, but there’s a different look, something close to pride. Truthfully, he was overjoyed to talk about you to someone, especially to someone who by some crazy phone call and last minute trip—is your family. 

Lorena smiles, sipping her tea with a nod. Her eyes floating to something behind you, above your head. You don’t turn to see what has made her eyes misty and youthful for a moment. “Ah.. one of those. I’m familiar, promise you. What is it that you do Javier?”

He straightens up at the question like it shattered the small world he’s created with you. “I’m a DEA agent, I’m assigned in Colombia starting this November.” It was firm, devoid of laughter and pride. Like a soldier being questioned about deployment. Your grandmothers brows screw in sympathy the second he mentions being away, her eyes falling to your own. You tried to be strong but the reminder chips away at your spirit each time. Five months away. Your eyes drop to your knees. 

“Ah… I see.” Softly she points her chin high, a necklace falling out of her cashmere sweater with the movement. She nudges behind you, where her eyes fell previously, you and Javier turn slightly. The image of a man in black and white, eyes light and a stern look. Clad in military attire, and a nose so similar to your own. You into the eyes of your grandfather for the first time. How could you have forgotten? You haven't even asked about him, his name–anything. You notice then that the entire hour you have spent in your grandmother's home you hadn't once thought of your father. Something about the eyes in the photo seared you, What if my fathers dead? “Your grandfather was also named Lucas. He was my high school sweetheart but we broke up after he decided to leave me for the war. Listen, I respect our military but–not for him–absolutely not. He was always leaving, estúpido, estúpido. We split when he was apart, it wasn't very easy to be in contact like it is now. But… I didn't wait, I found someone else but mija… the second he stepped foot on american soil we were married and I was pregnant with your father 3 years later.”

Javier placed his hand on your lower back at some point during her story, thumb softly rubbing into your thin t-shirt. Your eyes threatened to betray you. You know why she chooses to tell you this story, you suppose this sort of thing runs in the family. Leaving and watching the ones who leave. “He died before me, that absolute idiot.” She sniffles and shakes her head. You turn back around, facing her–she had already wiped her tears away. And she does it just like you, palm first and hurried. Who knew the sight of your grandmother crying could fill you with such warmth, you suppose you were never emotional in the same way your mother was. You wondered where it came from, you guess you can say you've got it from your grandmother.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” You choke on your own words and she waves her hand  in a its alright but it isn't motion. She grabs her teacup once more, her eyes stuck to yours until her brows shoot up in shock.

“Oh–your father. It's so like me to get wrapped up in myself, I’m sure you have a million questions. I can settle your nerves and tell you that he is very much alive.” She laughs, she really was a kookie old lady. “He also knows that you’re here.”

“What?” You and Javier blurt simultaneously, the two of you leaning in on your knees. For a split second your cheeks heat at the thought of Javier being this invested but that completely flies out the window while your grandmother nods with a smile. 

“This is his estate, you think a school teacher could afford all this? His home was the big one right next door. He’s nervous but he is expecting you. I thought I’d give him time to… speak for himself.” She nods and settles her cup down once more. “I’m not trying to kick you out but he’s probably bouncing his knee for the thousandth time over there”

“You’ve gone non-verbal Andrea.” The two of you kissed your grandmother goodbye with promises of a second visit in the next few months, Javier was micro analyzing your every move. How after the bomb was dropped you had frozen in fear and only muttered 4 more words. Her brows furrowed as the two of them approached the back door of her fathers home. Javier knew what this meant, what this all means. He sees what its doing inside of you, your body is rejecting the truth that, A. your father is alive and B. He seems to be doing quite well for himself. Your grandmother gave the two of you instructions like you were on a secret mission. 

Go through the back door

Javi, it's best you wait in the hall. 

He will most likely be sat in his office, first door on your right. 

You just nodded with a knot in your throat. Javier watches you lead the way in silence and it's killing him to know how much this is taking a toll on you already.

You have eaten in on yourself already, absent in the eyes.

 He remembered fathers day being a particularly rough day for you during your summers. How you would call Javier’s house but he’d have to explain that he was on his way out fishing with Chucho. He can't think too hard about all of that, he might crumble himself and he had to be strong, he had to be that for you. You step up and look over your shoulder, nearly tripping–Javier catches you at your elbow and you are trembling. 

“Sorry, I’m trying to catalog all the questions I have.” You chuckle and there isn't a bit of humor behind it, just nerves and all. “His house is way too nice. This door knob looks like pure gold.” You attempt a joke but Javier can't seem to laugh either. And like the brave girl you are, you don't hesitate this time, you twist the doorknob pushing the door open. Ahead of you was a grandiose hallway, white paneled walls with tiny intricate floral designs. 

The door to his office is already in your view, a long ottoman right outside the door like a waiting room. It felt nothing like a home, like a sterile office or a Homes and Gardens spread. Javier selfishly thinks of how their home will look one day, it will never feel this cold, not in the Louisiana heat. He’d settle down with you in Louisiana. He decided this weekend, he’d like to watch you bask in under the cajun sun with a belly. 

The two of you stand side by side in front of a door with no imperfections but a carving of the letter L on the wood. Your brows furrow, “Okay.” You exhale, turning to Javier knowing this is where you part, knowing that whatever goes on behind those doors could hurt you in a way he fears he can never fix. So maybe he’s just as scared, he nods silently and firm. Still putting his act up for your sense of security, he knows you can read right through it, he also knows you love that he does this for you. 

He can see it on your lips, see the 3 words, the words he knows you tried to spill out twice on this trip. He shakes his head and grabs your face in a chaste kiss. Your hands hold at his shoulders as you rise on your tiptoes to return it deeper. He doesn’t let you stall, he steps away. “I’ll be right here.” Javier juts his chin toward the ottoman, and he watches you disappear into the room. 

Sitting down with a strain in his lower back from the drive and his body's reaction to the thought of the ride they have to take once this is all over. Javier leans his head back, his eyes facing the ceiling. Touched with a heavy weight and the lingering thought of maybe one day having one of these moments with his own mother, if she’s out there. He busies himself with an attempt of remembering her face, drawing her in white lights behind his closed eyes that he was too damn scared to open, scared to be present. Scared of not being strong enough for you. Afraid of opening his eyes and seeing a blackhole ready to swallow him whole, engulfing himself in his own grief that he’s shoved down trying to be a man for you. 

He sees your face at first, angled cheeks he first sees you now, a longer face–lips full, a nose with a tiny slope and teeth always threatening to split your lips in a smile. He also sees what you looked like in 1980, rounder cheeks, the face of a shy girl. He remembers your cheeks always being pink. His chest constricts when he pictures that same young face full of tears at fault of his own fears. That's when he makes out his mothers face, eyebrows a light-light brown, so light they always seemed barely there. Her freckle below her eye, her eyes clad with glasses and quirk between her brow. Of disapproval for all things involving their life as a family.

Javier snaps his eyes open at the thought. Straightening up, attempting to now hear what was being said behind the door. His eyes adjust to the bright light of the hall, it really felt like a waiting room. Javier blinks away the floaters.

In front of him is a single picture hung on the wall.

It's an image of your father, he sees the resemblance immediately. But that isn't what catches his eye. Javier's heart drops nauseatingly fast at the sight of two young girls-twins, in the photograph. And in cursive in the far corner,

Best Dad Ever  

He’s up and hugging you before you could take in that this is really happening. The hug is tight, it's unfamiliar, it's strangling and you attempt to hug back to make it feel loving but it just isn't there yet. You want to pinch yourself, you've dreamt up this moment. You hugged your own aching body to sleep countless nights wishing for a hug from your father and now that it’s here, you can't even register the difference between him and a stranger.

He holds your face for a moment with his eyes misty, your chin quivers then. He was a splitting image of your grandfather. Eyes a hazel, his hair shaggy and long. Like he doesn't belong in a home this large, you close your eyes for a moment. Overstimulated with the situation, your father cradles your face for the first time since you were a premature newborn. He even calls you beautiful a few times and you’ve never felt stronger for not melting into a puddle of tears. Perhaps you were just too happy.

It was the happiest moment. 

You sit in front of him and he has a sheet in front of him. You couldn't be bothered talking about yourself again but you do anyway, he leaned in with every small fact. He beams with a laugh when you tell him that little Frankie was expecting a baby and wedding. He claims that these past years he wondered what you were doing with your life, once your eighteenth birthday approached he says he stayed up the entire night wondering what this next step would look like for you. 

“It seems like you've done well for yourself–I'm sorry Andrea, I’m sorry I wasn't there.” You were the only person in tears in the room but you couldn't be bothered to be embarrassed. The tears were only joyful, those sorts came rarely for you. You allowed them to flow without shame. 

It’s okay dad, it's okay. You whisper, “My mom–she says she left because you were–”

“An addict.” He cuts. “I was, I got clean the second she fled with you. I called my mom and she sent me to a rehabilitation facility in New York. It’s where I lived most of my life, where I built my business. Where I met my wife.” He smiles to himself and you smile too. What a privilege it is to be loved by someone else. “She isn't home today,  told her we would be meeting today and she decided to not overwhelm you so she’s out. I hope you don’t mind.”

You reach out for the box of tissues at his desk, dabbing your eyes. “It's okay–I'm sorry that my mom did that– leaving without notice, it-it kills me when I think of it.” You wipe again as more tears fall, god why was it so difficult to talk when crying. You think of the day after your birth often, you think of your father asleep in a hospital chair, you think of him waking up in an empty room. Your heart chips away slowly but then you look at his face again and he looks just as confused.

He straightened up and his jaw clenched. You were to oblivious to notice the change in his demeanor.

“Andrea– I knew she was going to leave– I- I encouraged her to… I was too sick. I wasn't ready then– I waited six years until I had kids.” 

You swear the feeling was akin to being cut by the sharpest blade, sliced slowly down your sternum and the weight of the world on your shoulders. There you are, in front of your father, bleeding out, being drained in front of him. Your head feels light as everything you thought you knew turns on its head. Your eyes fall to your knees, staring into the denim of your pants, trying to register if any of this is real.

What? You whisper. 

“Oh Andrea–Melissa–your mother. She sat in that hospital bed and cried, she begged me to get clean for you, but she didn't know how all of that worked. I had to do it for myself, and I did. I asked her to leave. I wasn’t ready, sweetheart.”

The name stung, you sat there, you were an open wound in front of your father as he explains that he made the choice to reject you. 

Your chin quivered in a new way, no longer happy. No longer tears between teeth, “I’m really confused.” 

“I forgave myself for that decision in rehab. I found god and I absolve myself from that guilt through years of healing, Adalina and Adare’s birth helped me free myself from that decision. I knew you were taken care of I had to–”

“I-I wasn't taken care of. I wasn't loved. I was ignored–I-I spent the holidays alone. I was raised by a nanny–When-when I fell off my bike I relied on my brother's best friend to take care of me. I needed you but I was never angry at you for not looking because I thought you were left completely in the dark.” Each word came with a sob so deep, you weren't sure your body could handle a heartbreak like this. His lips thinned and his brows creased in sympathy that didn't feel genuine. You had sisters, sisters with names awfully close to your own. "Did-did you know where I was?"

"I had you address for several years, yes." Cooly he says it. “Andrea–I'm really upset to hear that. I had assumed you were okay, you never looked for me.”

You shook your head with closed eyes, tears staining your neck. “I shouldn't have to–I’m the child…” You whined, regressing to a little girl, you couldn't help it. This was the worst pain you've felt. “I needed you– I needed a dad.”

“I understand, I understand the importance of a father in a young woman's life–I've got two of my own–But I cannot be sorry for the decision I made twenty two years ago.” How could he be so cold, so analytical. How is it that he talks about the situation like he’s just an observer? 

“Three, you have three daughters.” Your voice sobers, its anger this time. You were so upset that he couldn't see this the way you do. Your eyes burn into his and there isn't anything, there's nothing. You began to wonder how he could be the product of a woman like Lorena. “You had me on January 14th 1964, you watched my mom carry me for 7 months before she couldn’t– I’m your daughter too.” You spit without a shaking breath. 

His face tightens and he nods, “Technically speaking yes-”

“Oh give me a fucking break!” You cuss, jumping to your feet and he jumps in his seat. 

“Please do not cuss in my home.” 

You were red hot, fuming as your eyes finally took in the catholic iconography throughout the office. And the many, many pictures of your sisters. Wiping your tears with your palms, fast like you want to hide from him that he even made you cry in the first place. “You are a pathetic person. I feel so ridiculous having wasted so many years wanting you. I’ll see my way out.” You turn and he’s following you, repeating your name but no apologies. You swing the door open and Javier is there at his feet already, with a tense face. You see it, he heard it all and he’s angry. 

“Please Andrea, let's just pray together.”

You cackle and glance at your boyfriend. “Let's go Javi.” You storm past him, swinging the backdoor open. 

The second the rolling front yard and southern sun hits your skin you begin to sob. Chest wracking yet silent as you walk away from your fathers home. As you walk away from someone else's father. You chest hiccuping as you blurily lead yourself down the path, Javier's steps quickening behind you. Your cheeks hot and stung with tears, head pounding you knew you looked like a swollen hot mess. You hug your own shaking body all the way to the car. Climbing in the passenger's seat with more tears. 

You aren't sure if you could ever be okay.

Javier circles the car with his heart in his throat, hearing each word and feeling the cuts deep. He sits and thinks, she won't be able to handle this. He knows you, he knows you enough to love you. He knows you are strong, he also knows no child is strong enough to face rejection from a parent. So he stares at your father before you have walked out the home, he contemplates killing him there. He wants to hurt the man for making you ache so badly. Call him crazy or irrational, but he thought it for a split second. Thought of hurting him.

 Javier decides taking care of you was far more important than his anger. 

He walks behind you, 

It felt like a huge joke, like a fuck you. The beautiful scenery of the estate, the birds chirping and the world still spinning, and you're there, hugging your own body while you silently weep ahead of him. 

He doesn't start the car when he gets in. He stares ahead, sick to his stomach at the sound of your cries. His eyes glued to the steering wheel, his peripheral catches you shifting to lean your temple against the window. The car was hot, sitting out in this sun. Hot enough to burn you once your elbow touches a belt buckle but the heat felt trivial. Javier glances at the map, prepared to drive back into New Orleans and extend their weekend, take you away for more days. Allow you to be detached for some more time, this was far too much for you. 

“I want to go home Javi.” You whisper between tears, “It was…dumb of me to look for a family out here.” 

There it was again, your eagerness for a complete family. For someone to see you, understand your pain, he heard you beyond that door. He heard you talk about being left alone, celebrating holidays with only yourself. He heard you begging for sympathy from your own blood from your own family. He heard your voice so small when you begged him to see you as his own child, as his own family. 

Javier panics, he’s so overcome with emotion he isn't sure he has the words to comfort you. He can't get out what he's tried to tell you all weekend. You will always have a family with him, you no longer have to search. But it doesn't come out from his mouth.

Instead, he reaches his hand over to you and between his thumb and his pointer he rubs the earring he gifted you. The earring, the reminder. Without words he tells you, I’ve got you. He watched you the past two days rub the thing as a nervous tick, he sees your brows furrow and your chin quiver once more before you cave and lean your head against his hand. Your cries regulate and calm with each pass of his thumb against the delicate little bee in your ear. Javier watches you with blurred eyes and he remembers meeting you for the first time. He remembers putting bandages on your knees and peeling oranges for you and diving into lakes and biking, and blushing and kissing and leaving. And And And, 

“Andrea, I really, really love you.”

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