#also love these muted tones aaa

[tooranges]

inspired by this chunky sky dragon 🥺🐉🐟

(from 02/2023)

[ranposlittle]

Hi! I just discovered your blog and I love your writing❤️ If that's not too much to ask, could I ask for a nsfw scenario with dom Dazai who edge his s/o until she becomes a mess and beg to let her cum ? And maybe, only if you're comfortable, you could include some mirror sex and vibrator 🙈? I’m sorry if you don’t fully understand my English is not very good 😅❤️ Thank you in advance ❤️

Genre: NSFW ( SO MUCH OF IT OMG)

Tags: Vibrator, Mirror sex, Teasing, Edging

A/N: Ooo another spicy for Dazai~ not much I can say about it other than I hope this is what you wanted and listen to this audio (warning: very super spicy aaa) if you'd like. I love this VA and his works hehe. Enjooooy! ⸜( ◍´꒳`◍ )⸝◌｡˚✩

˚ * . ⊹ • ꒰꒱ • ⊹. * ˚

It’s just been well over a month since you’ve joined the Armed Detective Agency and instantly developed an attraction to a certain peculiar man. Your wandering imagination have desired to have him in your room- naked and hovering above you as his hips swing back and forth to meet yours- so much so that when the opportunity presented itself in a form of a date, you threw all sense of pride out of the window and invited him back to your place. Of course, you are aware that your intentions was completely transparent to him despite of your best efforts to conceal it, but you didn’t really care as the aching feeling inside you grows each time you look at him. You’ve dreamt of experiencing pleasure through him as he pounds you into the bed but so far, you’re being proven that good things don’t come easy as he was still fully clothed while you’re completely devoid of clothing.

“Dazai-san,” your wispy moan fluttered through the cold air circulating around your dimly lit bedroom and the quiet hum of the fan was a distant muted sound that slips out of your mind with every contact of Dazai’s tongue on your swollen clit. As both of his thumbs hold your folds open, his tongue was free to roam and ravish every moist inch of your exposed flesh. Your head further sank onto the fluffy pillow below you as another suck from Dazai’s warm mouth sends you flying over to the moon. He moaned softly when your fingers curled up on his hair and your hips bucked up to his face.

“Dazai-san, I’m close.” You called out to him once more as your toes curled inwards and your heels pressed down on the mattress. “Please, don’t stop.”

Sweat was dripping on every corner of your naked body and your muscles ache as you were repeatedly drove to your peak, only to be forcefully pulled back down whenever Dazai would abruptly stop. The fuzz in your brain further clouded your mind as Dazai’s muffled chuckle vibrated on your sensitized core.

“Not yet, (Y/N)-chan,” he crooned, dragging a finger up and down your slit. “Just a little bit longer for me, okay? I promise I’ll reward you if you do.”

You whined as Dazai resumed on the task at hand, giving more powerful sucks on your plump sex. Once he felt your legs trembling in a familiar way, he popped your clit out of his mouth immediately. You let out a wanton cry; you know you’re a thread away from breaking down because of his cruel game. The bed wobbled as Dazai pulled your body up until you’re sitting face to face with him. He gave your parted lips a quick kiss and you tasted yourself on its supple surface before his signature smirk quirked up on the corner of his mouth.

“You look so beautiful, all sweaty and flustered,” he commented, brushing back the hairs that were stuck on your forehead. “Do you want to come now, hmm?” You nodded enthusiastically which greatly amused him. “Well, where are your toys?”

You blinked in surprise from his question. “C’mon, don’t tell me that a dirty girl like you don’t have one,” he said before coming closer to whisper deeply on your ear. “I know you like touching yourself. Show me what you use on yourself while you think of me.”

Guilt washed over you as your deeply personal dirty secret was exposed in the open. You accepted the fact that Dazai knows how much you want him from the way you ogle at him but it somehow still surprised you that he apparently was also aware of what you do once you’re all alone with the memory of how good he looked that day and the faint smell of his perfume still lingering on your nose. Your eyes dropped to the floor in shame as you gingerly crawled to your side table, opened up the drawer and procured a cordless wand massager.

“Wow,” Dazai teasingly whistled. “I was right about you. You’re just as naughty as I thought.” Your eyes refused to meet his as you handed it to him but he didn’t took it; instead he titled your face up to his own.

“You see that mirror over there? I want you to show me.” He demanded in a gruff voice. “Show me how you make yourself come.”

Your heart thumped inside your chest in mixed feelings of nervousness, embarrassment and excitement. You hang on to the hopes that if you do what he asks you, no matter how humiliating, you’ll finally be allowed to reach that high your body has been craving from the first moment that he touched you. You swallowed dryly and did exactly what you were told. Dazai followed closely and sat down on the floor with you in front of your body mirror.

“That’s it. Now, spread your legs,” he ordered, settling down behind you. Dazai’s hot breath tickled the insides of your ear and send shivers running down to your core. You obeyed, of course. “Spread your pussy for me too. Let me see deep inside you.” His voice was so goddamn sexy and with all the lewd words he’s saying, you’re just dripping down with desire. You didn’t even thought of this scene playing out even in your wildest wet dreams. Your trembling fingers reached down and exposed your flushed pink flesh.

“Mmm, that’s good. You’re so soaked,” he praised sweetly. “Now, use your toy.”

The smooth head of the massager rested on the top of your clit, the sheer contact already making your legs shake. With just one flick of your finger, the massager started up in slow and steady pulses. You squealed at the sudden sensation and Dazai’s arm slithered onto your breast, caressing it and rubbing your erected nipple.

“Look at me in the mirror,” his smoky voice buzzed in your ear and you met his eyes on the perverted reflection in front of you. “This is what you dream of, isn’t it? Every time you touch your pussy, you picture me with you just like this. Well, now I’m here. You don’t have to imagine anymore. You can look at me while you enjoy using that toy on yourself like you’ve always wanted.”

You sucked on your lower lip as the massager continued to vibe on, sending volts of pleasure on your nerves. Still high from Dazai’s earlier coaxing, you didn’t even have to adjust the speed of the vibrator to feel your orgasm climbing back up again. A long drawn out moan escaped your lips and your whole body shook against Dazai.

“Are you about to come already? Does getting watched by me while you masturbate really turn you on that much?” His teasing really didn’t help your cause as it just brought even more heat to your core. “Well, you can come now if you’d really like. But if you do, then you won’t get to have my cock inside you. I know you dream of my cock too, right?”

“Y-yes, please,” you replied and cringed at how your voice sounded more pathetic than you anticipated.

“So needy,” Dazai said, pinching on your nipple. “If you want it that bad then why don’t you beg me? Maybe I’ll do it if your begging pleases me.”

His tone was so smug and domineering that it would’ve pissed you off if it wasn’t for the tingling tension in your abdomen that was threatening to snap before you can satiate the hunger you have to feel him stretch you out and fill you up. The massager kept its steady vibration on your clit as your hands tremble on its handle.

“Dazai-san, please,” you fixed your gaze on his eyes at the reflection. Lust took over you as you once again caught a glimpse of your own reflection in such an obscene position, the wrongness of it all made you even needier. “Please give me your cock. Fuck me. Use me however you want. I don’t care what you do just please… let me come.”

Your voice was so desperate, your body quivering in whichever way and your overwhelming want for his cock distracting you on the fact that you can absolutely do whatever you want, but despite of your shaking limbs, you never dared to move the vibrator away from your clit, and it’s all just to please him. It was all too entertaining for Dazai’s sadistic side to hold back his own excitement as his strained erection twitched inside his pants.

Without a warning, Dazai pushed you forward causing the vibrator go flying on a corner; your hands reflexively caught your own weight as you get down on all fours and your nose grazed the mirror. With such close proximity, you can see just how ruined you look right now, looking almost foreign to your own self. You hear Dazai’s belt clinked as it dropped on the floor and the sound of him zipping down followed. Not even having a chance for your eyes to focus on the reflection to see what Dazai was doing when a sudden piercing pain enveloped your vagina.

Dazai cursed lowly as he pushed the last centimeter of his length inside you without a care of your loud hiss of discomfort. “Wow. You’re so swollen that your pussy just sucks me right in. How nice.”

He leaned forward and gives the small of your back light kisses before reaching up to yank a fistful of your hair. You gasped as your neck strained and the angle that Dazai was holding your head was forcing you to look at your own disheveled reflection. Without a hint of hesitation, Dazai just started slamming himself into you. His hips making a loud slapping sound as it crashes into yours and with each blow, your staggered exhales fog up the mirror.

“Look at yourself,” Dazai mumbled through gritted teeth. “Not so innocent now, are we? You act like such a proper lady at the office but it only took me a second to know just how horny you truly are. It wasn’t hard to notice how your eyes would slide down to my pants and how you would rub your legs afterwards. Don’t you think it’s bad to look at your co-worker like that and think such naughty thoughts? You probably just walk around the office soaking wet all the time, don’t you?” Dazai’s mocking chuckle tightened the built-up desire inside you as you witness through your lidded eyes how he continue to forcefully pound into you. “Is this what you wanted all this time? Am I making your dreams come true?”

“Yes,” you groaned out with the little strength you have left. “Oh God, yes. Don’t stop, Dazai-san. I want to come. Please.”

Dazai grunted and pulled you back down and maneuvered you to his lap as he settled on the floor once again. “Watch.” He ordered. “Watch how my cock will go in and out of your pussy and ingrain it on your mind. If you look away, I’ll stop, understand?”

As promised, Dazai sink his fingers on your hips and he began thrusting upwards. Your breasts bounced as he rocked you but your mind was only focused on watching the way his shaft would appear and disappear into you. Wet squelching sounds occupied the space around you along with your cries of pleasure and Dazai’s breathy moans hitting the delicate skin of your back. Your hand unconsciously reached up to your breasts to massage them as you completely drown in ecstasy, but the way your walls contracted erratically around Dazai didn’t go unnoticed.

“Mmm, my naughty girl’s ready to come now, huh?” his voice was sickeningly sweet given the way he carelessly tormented you for this long. “I’ll let you, but only on my count. Let’s come together, okay?”

One of his hands moved away from the bruising grip on your side and dipped on your folds to rub circles on your clit. Your lips shivered a quiet moan as a tidal wave of pleasure rushed from your head to your toes.

“Three.”

Dazai’s hips buckled up once more and send a mind-numbing sensation on your brain piled up atop of all of the others that came before it.

“Two.”

He grunted as your walls pulsated; your orgasm was starting to spill out of you and you clamped yourself around him in an attempt to hold it for a little bit longer.

“Ugh- hold it. Not yet.”

He continued to ram himself into you and you once again cried out: in pleasure, in frustration, in need. Despite your effort, your climax was unraveling and you just about lose your mind as you wait for Dazai’s final count.

“Here it comes- ah! One-”

Two deep thrusts and Dazai sheathed his cock inside you as he release hot streams of cum. The feeling of his fluids splashing on your walls was the last straw for you to be pushed off of the edge and your orgasm busted out of you like a backed-up waterfall. Everything you know was swallowed up in a void; you felt nothing but euphoria and bliss as you let yourself convulsed erratically without neither control nor guilt present on your mind. Liquid slowly flowed down to your aching thighs shortly after Dazai pulled out of you and you limply rested your back against his chest. Your slow descent to sanity left you breathless and without an ounce of strength left on any part of your body. You felt as if almost all of your life energy was sucked out of your body and you’re just one breath away from passing out completely.

“You’re amazing.” Dazai said as he gave your temple a tender kiss. “I don’t think you’ll ever need that toy ever again. I’ll be happy to give you the real thing whenever your imagination goes wandering.”

You weakly opened your eyes and see Dazai’s dark eyes glistened as he whispered, “Even at work.”

[ambitionsource]

AMBITION Season 2 ♫ “Got A Lotta Livin’ To Do” [ 2.08 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (quincywillows) || S2 Tag || Official Page

YOUTH IS WASTED ON THE YOUNG – Devastating news sends the junior class reeling. When decisions are made for all the wrong reasons, everybody must face the consequences. Eric is haunted by signs he may have missed.

62 Minutes (16K words) || CONTENT WARNING: mentions of suicide; underage drinking; mild physical harassment. Take care of yourselves and read with discretion.

[ ← Contingency Plan ] [ S2 Synopsis ] [ World Uncertain → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Lovely” as performed by Billie Eilish & Khalid || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz, Riley Matthews, Maya Hart, Charlie Gardner, Zay Babineaux, and Lucas James Friar

The soft piano eases us into the episode, a long shot of the hallways of AAA less lively than usual. Whereas there is often dancing, laughter, and commotion in the opening hours of the school day, today it’s still.

ISADORA DE LA CRUZ is the first person to appear, standing alone in front of the display case outside the auditorium. There are photographs from Into the Woods up, and that’s what is holding her focus as she delivers the opening verse. As she turns and begins to walk down the hall, CHARLIE GARDNER appears within frame and joins in the vocals, growing more and more distant the further Isadora walks from him.

The whole number progresses with this disjointed sort of feeling -- the students being together, but feeling distinctly apart. The vocal focus shifts from the two of them to MAYA HART then to RILEY MATTHEWS and ZAY BABINEAUX, their voices melting seamlessly into one another due to the heaviness of the delivery.

The moment it all comes together is about halfway through in the second verse, when all of them come together along with LUCAS FRIAR. Zay behind Isadora, Charlie behind Maya, Lucas behind Riley. The six of them look straight at the camera with blank expressions as they march down the hall, seemingly in sync for this one captured moment of grief.

Oh I hope some day I’ll make it out of here...

It’s a long, continuous shot, staying with Maya as she abruptly halts and the other five disperse around her. She’s standing in front of Farkle’s locker. Frozen, transfixed by it. She lifts her hand to touch it and then decides against it, pulling her hand back. She swivels away from it, the riffs of her classmates echoing as she drifts her way back towards the auditorium.

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - DAY

We’re following Maya as she walks, making her way through the hall...

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

And out into the wings, stage lights down and house lights up as she passes through the stage and towards the stairs to the front and center section of seats. The rest of the junior A class is there amongst them, but they’re blurry and out of focus.

Maya settles into one of the chairs, camera rotating around to see the stage. JACK HUNTER, ERIC MATTHEWS, HARPER BURGESS, and SHAWN HUNTER are assembled, expression and demeanors somber as they address the A class. As the song comes to an end and their voices become audible, Jack’s words of understanding still feel far away.

Jack: … understand how overwhelming this might be. Which is why we are going to process it together. If there is anything you need…

The focus is back on Maya, having spun our way around to the front. Easing in on her empty expression…

Cue title sequence.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Jack and Eric continue on with their opening remarks, explaining the resources that they have available in light of what has happened with Farkle Minkus. Harper and Shawn nod along, equally as solemn. Harper seems particularly fragile, hands clasped so tightly in front of her she’s turning her knuckles white.

Additionally, as Eric explains, he’ll be available at any hour the next week if any of them need to come talk through what they are feeling about the situation. He emphasizes that the worst thing any of them can do at this time is isolate themselves, and every one of them up on stage -- and any other faculty -- are there for them.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

The halls continue to feel muted even though the day marches on. At one end of the hall, NIGEL CHEY talks softly with YINDRA AMINO and JADE BEAMON. He reaches out a hand to touch Jade’s elbow, extending comfort.

A little further down, ASHER GARCIA and DYLAN ORLANDO are having a difficult conversation. Asher isn’t looking at him as he swaps items from his bag to his locker, meticulously nitpicking at the books on the shelves as a distraction. Dylan is leaning against the row with his arms crossed, delicately broaching the conversation.

Dylan: You heard what Mister E said. The worst thing we can do right now is isolate, and that’s all he’s been doing for months.

Asher: I know.

Dylan: That has to be the reason he said any of that stuff, anyway. It’s like you said, it’s like he wants to push people away. I’m not saying it’s right, or anything, and you know I’m on your side. I’m just thinking that --

Asher: Okay, but even if he didn’t mean it, he still said it. And you know I’m not just -- I know what you mean. I do. [ fussing with his backpack ] But at what point do we say okay, this is all I can take? I’ve been pushing the line further and further back because of exactly that, because I don’t want him to be alone, because he’s my friend, but where do we draw the line? When does it finally become too much --

Asher nearly drops his backpack and gasps, catching it and cursing under his breath. He takes a moment and closes his eyes, breathing deeply. Dylan frowns, reaching out and rubbing his shoulder.

When he’s pulled it together, Asher turns to face him. His tone is soft, touching Dylan’s arm.

Asher: You know I’m not going to tell you what to do. You can make your own decisions. I just…

[ Dylan listens attentively. He shifts his hand to touch Asher’s cheek, a subtly encouraging gesture that signals it’s safe to say whatever he needs to say. ]

Asher: Right now, I can’t. I just... need space.

A reasonable request, considering how much he’s already done for Lucas. Dylan nods. Asher gives him a tight smile, sharing a quick kiss before he closes his locker and shuffles down the hall for his next class.

Dylan watches him go, releasing a sigh and leaning back against the lockers.

Jack, pre-lap: It is imperative that we act with caution.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Our junior faculty is assembled, CORY MATTHEWS joining Harper and Shawn in meeting with Eric and Jack. The principal is seated at his desk, leading the more candid discussion of how they should approach a guaranteed difficult week. Cory says what they’re all thinking.

Cory: I just can’t believe it.

The main takeaway from the meeting seems to be that whether they like it or not, the group of them are role models in this situation. How they handle this will help inform the students on how to handle it, so it’s up to them to be in control of their emotions and act as pillars for the A class to lean on. Harper questions if this means they’re just pretending it didn’t happen, obviously the one struggling the most with keeping her emotions in check.

Eric refutes this take, pointing out that their primary role is still to be a teacher. He warns against initiating conversations about it, as some students may not want to talk about it or address it yet. Those who want to seek conversation will come to them, and if anyone seems in need of counseling then Harper is encouraged to send them his way.

Harper: And what about you? Are you sure you can handle taking on all that extra… have you even gotten to take a moment for yourself?

Eric: When we’re here, our responsibility is for the students. I can handle myself on my own time.

Shawn is the one to point out the other obvious threat -- overreactions. He doesn’t suspect they’ll have any copycats or anything, but then, they didn’t realize it soon enough with Farkle either. The fact of the matter is, there is a lot boiling under the surface of these kids right now because of this, and they’re guaranteed to release that pent up energy eventually. They should be even more vigilant than usual.

Jack seconds the notion. Speaking from experience, some teenagers are very good at concealing what they’re feeling...

INT. AAA - GIRLS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

One such student is Isadora, who is having lunch with Maya. They’re hidden away in the girls dressing room, away from the noise and constant chatter of the cafeteria.

For all intents and purposes, she seems to be handling the news better than others. She’s at least being open and talkative about her attempts to process it, gently nudging Maya into conversation about it.

Isadora: Something similar happened at my last foster home... I won’t go into details, but… it’s like... they kept telling us the same thing over and over again. About feelings, and guilt and all that sort of shit, but none of it really helped. I don’t know what… [ a beat ] This isn’t very helpful either, is it?

Maya isn’t taking to it, that’s for sure. She’s silent, lunch untouched on the countertop next to her. She’s got her feet up on the counter and is hugging her knees, leaning her head against the cool mirror. Not talking, not eating, just… nothing.

Isadora gets the hint, settling into quiet as well. But she assures her that if she does want to talk, she’s there for her.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Riley has gone to Eric for lunch, bright with an idea in the chair across from him. It’s a muted sort of enthusiasm, but her eyes are sparkling as she speaks.

Riley: I wanted to run it by you first, though, because I didn’t want to accidentally do something that might make things worse or have some unintentional psychological consequence. I just thought that… it might be nice. For all of us, but also for him. To honor him. [ a beat ] Do you think it would be okay?

Eric: I don’t see any obvious “psychological consequences” in that idea, no. [ smiling ] I think that’s a lovely idea, Riley.

Riley manages a smile. She quickly finishes her food and gathers her things, claiming she wants to get started on organizing it. Eric rises with her, requesting she hold on a second.

He comes around the desk, gently asking if she’s handling everything okay. In light of everything that has happened… he just wants to know. And if there’s anything he can do, can she promise that she will please, please tell him before it gets too deep to come back from.

Riley pauses. Then she pulls her uncle into a hug, the two of them sharing a tight embrace. Every touch means a little bit more right now.

Riley: Promise.

She pulls back first, giving him a smile and heading out. Eric watches her go, a little choked up. He clears his throat, trying to shift back into work mode.

INT. AAA - DANCE STUDIO - DAY

Zay and Charlie are in their usual studio, but they aren’t dancing. The mood is deflated, the two of them sprawled on the floor in what seems to be the start of stretches that never went anywhere. Instead they’re talking, Zay laying on his side and propped up on his elbow. Charlie is leaning back against the mirrors, legs stretched out and feet resting on Zay’s hip.

And even their conversation isn’t its usual rapport. It’s soft and listless, both of them trying to process something that feels impossible to grasp. Zay carries most of it to fill the silence, working through his disbelief and attempting to reconcile that with the collective perspective they all had of Farkle.

Zay: I don’t know. I guess someone that… when they have that sort of personality, you never really think --

Charlie: Could’ve been me.

Charlie says it without thinking, staring at the ballet bars across from them. He only snaps out of his daze when Zay nudges his knee, concern in his features. He repeats the question of what the hell Charlie meant, obviously worried about the statement. Charlie quickly covers it, claiming he just meant that it really could’ve been any of them. Personality and background aside.

Zay doesn’t seem all that placated, so Charlie elaborates. He explains how alone he felt at the end of last year, how easy it is to stumble into those dark places and not really know how to dig yourself out. He’s lucky that he had a support system in place, as well as someone there for him in a way that no one else could be.

He tilts his head to lock eyes with Zay, sincerity shining through his tired gaze.

Charlie: I hope you know how much you mean to me.

The sentiment kind of speaks for itself. Zay softens, placing his hand on Charlie’s leg and gently stroking his knee.

Zay: Ditto.

Charlie waits a moment before placing his hand on top of his. Off their joined hands --

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

Riley and Cory are having dinner together, just the two of them as it may very well be from now on. The two of them skirt around the elephant in the room for a bit until Riley mentions her idea to honor Farkle, stating that that’s what has taken up a majority of her attention.

Tentatively, Riley asks Cory how he’s feeling about the whole thing. Although they don’t give him much credit, he was one of his teachers. He must be thinking about it. So she opens the floor for him to actually get to talk about it instead of putting on a brave face like he does at school. Cory contemplates it.

Cory: Weirdly enough, I keep thinking about first semester.

Riley: Yeah?

Cory: Yeah. Doesn’t have anything to do with the last couple of years, but that’s what I keep coming back to. First week of school isn’t easy for a teacher. Not just because we’re also coming off the freedom of summer, but because there’s a whole new crop of kids to learn about. Not to mention all the others you’re backlogging from other years, but that’s beside the point. At least at Triple A we’re only dealing with about fifty a year, but still a lot to take in.

Riley: I can imagine.

Cory: But Farkle wasn’t like that. It was partially the name -- hard to forget a name like that, so I figured I would match the face pretty easily. But the real reason was because even from the first week, he was always two steps ahead of me. Didn’t matter if it was history or english -- and I do not envy Mr. Norton for having to battle with him in science and math. First week of classes, I’m doing an introduction on Shakespeare, and his hand just shoots up about ten minutes in and he basically takes over the lecture. [ clearing his throat ] I was irritated at the time, a little bit, because it kind of felt like he was stealing my thunder. But came to appreciate it after a while. It was nice to have a student who valued his academic intelligence just as much as his performing ability. [ weakly ] Think maybe I should’ve told him that, at some point.

Riley smiles bittersweetly, reaching across the table to touch his hand. Cory lets out an embarrassed laugh, swiping at his eyes. He holds her hand more securely, locking eyes with her.

Cory: I’m so glad that -- I’m so glad you’re still here with me, Riley. I really, really am.

The statement is loaded, and carries plenty of meaning. Glad she’s there with him and not on the same path as Farkle; glad she’s there with him when everyone else seems to have gone away -- his wife, his son. He’s grateful that, in spite of everything else, she’s still there at his side.

Riley squeezes his hand in return, nonverbally returning the sentiment.

INT. FOSTER HOME - KITCHEN - NIGHT

Isadora is helping BEATRIX TORRES prepare lunches for the younger siblings. Beatrix asks her how she’s grappling with what happened to that classmate of hers, and she brushes it off as if she’s not all that bothered. Sad, of course, but it is what it is. Beatrix doesn’t seem convinced, but before she can question further, STEPHEN VAN HERSCHING requests that Isadora come join them in the dining room.

INT. FOSTER HOME - DINING ROOM - NIGHT

Isadora saunters into the seat across from him and KAREN VAN HERSCHING at the end of the dining table, expecting this to be another meeting to discuss her “behavior” as of late. They hadn’t yet confronted her about the outburst of last week, so she’s resigned as they tentatively begin the conversation.

Only it takes a turn she is not at all anticipating.

Karen: With all of this in mind, we feel it might be time for you to be relocated.

Isadora, stunned: … what?

Stephen, delicately: Clearly, we’re simply not clicking the way we’re supposed anymore. You must have noticed you’d been in respite care more often than usual these past few months, and we’ve been butting heads more than living harmoniously.

Karen: It’s not a comfortable environment for any party, and your siblings are starting to recognize it too. Perhaps that’s a sign that this just… isn’t a good fit.

Isadora chokes back her emotions, instead arguing as bluntly as she can manage. She points out that this has nothing to do with the foster siblings and everything to do with them -- they’re giving up on her because she’s not “normal” the way they’d like her to be. They’ve never known how to handle her, and now they’re giving up because they’re tired of pretending to put in an effort to understand her.

Stephen: Now I wouldn’t say --

Isadora: Of course you wouldn’t, because that would go against your perfect charitable narrative. Take in kids and give them homes, sure, as long as doing so makes you feel good about yourself and offers no potential challenges that you might have to actually lift a finger to work through.

Karen: See, this is exactly what we’re talking about. If you were intent on making this family dynamic work --

Isadora: If you were intent on making this work, you’d act like actual parents and try to understand the children you host rather than shaping them into your good samaritan trophies. When you’re an actual parent, you don’t just toss your kid out when they don’t suit you anymore!

Karen shuts the discussion down, stating that this is how things are going to be. Isadora reins in her frustration and puts on a stony expression. Karen continues to explain how long she’ll have to pack her things, what they’re doing to start arranging for her relocation, but sound goes fuzzy and sort of peters out.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “No Roots” as performed by Alice Merton || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz

The bass line starts in as the Van Herschings continue to mutedly talk at Isadora, finally dismissing her. As she marches from the table and starts to move through the home she launches into the opening verse, keeping her emotions tempered for as long as it takes her to escape to the upstairs.

INT. FOSTER HOME - ISADORA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

The door slams as she gets to the chorus, volume growing in pitch as she starts to meltdown over the ordeal. She’s being dropped again, removed and shoved off to the next person. Nothing ever lasts, no one ever stays. On top of everything else…

Enraged, Isadora rips a poster down off the wall. That destructive action seems to expand into an all-consuming energy, Isadora basically tearing her bedroom to shreds as she progresses through the rest of the number. It’s a dizzying display, leaving her surrounded by debris by the time the rendition comes to an end.

She stands amidst the ruins of what her temporary home used to be, breathing heavy and clearly exhausted. Then she leans back against the door and slides into sitting, tucking her head into her knees.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

The silence of Eric’s office is a stark contrast to the anger of moments earlier, the only sound being the active tick of the wall clock. Maya is seated in the chair opposite him, Eric patiently attempting to get her to speak about how she’s dealing with this. Anything at all.

She’s not biting. It’s truly jarring to see Maya Hart so quiet, usually so animated and the natural center of attention. She’s just… void, having nothing to say because she has nothing to give.

Eric: I just want you to understand that there’s no wrong way to process this. Whatever you might be feeling -- sadness, guilt, anger -- all of that is valid. You have the right to feel it, whatever it might be. You don’t have to process it alone.

For now, it seems like she’s content to do so. She continues her silence, avoiding his gaze as she stares blankly at the floor. Eric frowns, obviously wishing there was more he could do.

Anne Marie, pre-lap: Please let me know if there’s anything you need.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

ANNE MARIE WINTHROP is visiting Jack, having brought him lunch from one of his favorite spots. She’s clearly there to offer him comfort, well aware of how difficult this week is going to be for him. Whatever she can do to help, she wants to be able to do it.

Jack claims he’ll be fine, right now all he can do is focus on work and try to keep the tides level. She exchanges a brisk kiss with him, heading out just as Lucas appears in the doorway for a meeting.

The two of them nearly bump into one another, looking at one another in confusion. Anne Marie is certainly no administrator Lucas recognizes, and Lucas wanders the main office too casually to be just some random student swinging by for a visit. Yet, they have absolutely no sense of who the other person is.

Jack seems to sense their trepidation, jumping to introduce them. Anne Marie offers a hand to shake as he does so, which Lucas looks at with a mixture of reluctance and amusement. Is she for real?

Jack: Lucas is one of the technicians in the junior class.

Anne Marie: Oh. Sorry if I’m being rude, I just -- Jack’s never mentioned you, is all.

Lucas, flatly: Yeah, well, there’s not much to say about me. [ shaking her hand ] I’m sort of like the gum under his shoe he just can’t scrape off.

Jack: That’s not true.

Lucas: It’s okay though. He’ll get rid of me some day, I’m sure. A little more scraping and scrubbing, and all grime comes off eventually.

Jack cuts him off, stating he’s said quite enough. An interesting first impression, that’s for sure. Anne Marie delicately removes her hand from his, raising her eyebrows at Jack and assuring him she’ll see him after work. Lucas waits until she’s gone to speak, sliding into his usual seat.

Lucas: You never mentioned you had a girlfriend.

Jack: That’s not exactly relevant information for you to know.

Lucas: We talk about everything else. You know everything about me. [ bluntly ] Shitty parents, booth hopping, failed not-relationships…

Jack waves him off, as that’s definitely not what he wanted to discuss. He cuts to the main reason he requested Lucas come by, checking in on how he’s handling the news about Farkle.

In an instant, Lucas clams up. He says he doesn’t see why he’s checking on him when there’s plenty of people way more distraught than he is. He and Farkle weren’t close. They weren’t even acquaintances. The only thing they had in common, in fact, was how hated they were by everyone else.

But that isn’t the point. When things like this happen, Jack states, people cope with it regardless of how immediately attached to the person they were. He wanted to talk with him and make sure he was okay, because he knows for a fact he won’t be going to chat with Eric. His behavior last week was indicative of that much. Lucas sheepishly claims he’s fine, and the only reason he acted that way was because he doesn’t need to have everyone in his business.

But it’s not convincing to Jack, and he continues to push out of concern until Lucas slightly cracks. He lashes out about yeah, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Not because he gave a shit about Farkle, but sort of because of exactly that reason.

Lucas: So you want to know what I’m feeling? I’m feeling like absolute shit. But not for the reason everyone else is, the reason I should be, because I’m heartbroken or sad or suffered some great personal tragedy. And that’s all part of it -- I feel like shit because I am shit. I’m shit because this horrible thing happened, and all I can focus on is me. Because we were both trash, but if anyone deserved it… [ huffing ] Because for three years, I treated Farkle like shit, and I can’t stop doing it to everyone else, and now he --

Lucas can’t bring himself to finish the sentence. He swallows whatever he was going to say, slouching back in his seat and pressing his knuckles to his chin. Jack attempts to process everything he just said, wondering where to even begin.

Lucas: Is that what you wanted me to say? Is that what you wanted to hear?

He gets up without waiting for a response, making a quick escape. Jack sits there, dumbstruck, not at all sure how to unpack all of that. Wanting to help, but not having any idea how -- not even sure he can. Perhaps he should’ve heeded Eric’s advice about not pushing conversations…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Riley is at Farkle’s locker, having been opened by Harley to be cleaned out and returned. She’s gathering his things in a bag, also getting a feel for what she’s working with in whatever her grand idea is.

She sighs, shifting her focus to the inside door. There are still those lingering photos from last year, striking a nerve in her she wasn’t expecting. She gently touches the Les Mis cast photo, then shifts her gaze to one he has of him and Maya. It was taken on their hooky day, and somehow captures just how greatly Farkle cherished their friendship before he blew it all up.

Riley’s eyes are glossy, but she’s pulled from the moment by the conversation of a couple seniors a few lockers down. They’re discussing how heavy the week has been because of the junior class, neglecting to realize that the locker of who they’re chatting about is only a few feet away.

They both agree they’re eager for the weekend to unwind for a hot minute, highlighting the underground NYU party that they both got the deets for. Yeah, they’re still in high school, but this is one of those ones where they let seniors in for a few bucks so long as they dress the part and don’t go too overboard.

Interesting information to overhear. Riley absorbs the details as she hides behind Farkle’s locker door, stopping herself just in time from subconsciously bending his photo of Maya.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

The bell rings, pulling the junior class back together for lecture. They all saunter into the black box, the mood somber and all eyes avoiding the empty seats in the room. One less occupied than it should be. A couple of students are visibly shaken, like NICK YOGI who is far from his usual level of energetic, and HALEY FISHER, who is wiping tears on her sleeve a few rows back.

Harper steps up to the board and attempts to proceed on like business as usual, but she keeps losing her train of thought. She gets caught on Haley crying in the back of the room, wanting to say something, but remembering what Jack and Eric said about operating with caution.

Charlie: Miss Burgess? [ after she looks at him ] Are you alright?

No. No, Charlie, she’s not. As if the question is the trigger, Harper starts to cry. She apologizes and tries to pull it together, but then she’s sobbing harder. Totally eclipsed by the reality of what has happened and unable to run away from it any longer.

The A class stares at her, uncertain what to do or how to respond. The room feels frozen in the agony of it, until Shawn steps up and joins Harper at the front of the classroom. He leans in close, muttering to her with a semblance of privacy.

Shawn: Go. I’ve got them, just go.

Harper blinks at him, stunned, but takes his directive. She rushes out of the room, still trying to pull herself together. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Shawn awkwardly clears his throat and then attempts to take over the lesson to the best of his ability.

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - DAY

Catching up with the junior A class, they’re scattered about the auditorium during breakout sessions. But no one is actually rehearsing anything, mostly just coming together to comfort one another. DARBY WINTERS and SARAH CARLSON are in the dressing room hall, Sarah hugging Darby as she cries.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

In the wings, Zay, Yindra, and Nigel are seated on some spare acting blocks. Charlie and Clarissa are in the backstage area, comforting a distraught Haley who cannot seem to stop crying. In the back center section of the house, the techies are huddled together. NATE MARTINEZ has his arm around DAVE WILLIAMS, who is flushed and rubbing his eyes. JEFF MONROE is massaging Jade’s shoulders while she continues to costume in spite of how she’s actively crying, preferring to focus on something productive rather than wallow.

Dylan breaks from the techie huddle, gently scratching Asher’s back as he passes him to let him know he’s going. He makes his way back down through the house and up onto the stage, heading to the other side of the wings in pursuit of something or someone specific.

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - DAY

He finds who he’s looking for soon enough. Isadora is no longer so in control of her emotions, aggressively sawing at a piece of wood with safety goggles on. Dylan claims he’s happy he found her, as he wanted to see how she was doing. He knows she’s been kind of dealing with a lot of shit lately, let alone on top of this.

Isadora, unimpressed: Oh, do you now?

Isadora pulls off her goggles and steps away from the wood, avoiding looking at him. He persists in expressing his concern anyway, stating that they’re friends and it’s important for people not to feel alone right now.

Unintentionally, this comment is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Isadora snaps, saying it’s a shock for him to call them that when they’ve hardly interacted much in the last few months. Where was he when the entire techie crew decided to cold shoulder her? Or after the blow up in class when her mom visited -- he sure didn’t come running after her then. He didn’t try to get Lucas to lighten up on her, none of them thought to invite her to their new techie holiday plans.

Then it just spirals from there, Isadora no longer able to keep the lid on her emotions about anything. What’s going on with the Van Herschings, how her friendship with Lucas has deteriorated, the fact that she can’t seem to get the balance between two worlds right. How she knew something was up with Farkle, and she tried to reach out, but she didn’t do it right because she never does anything right. She could’ve done more, and yet she fucked up that too.

Dylan listens without argument to all of it, an unfair but willing recipient of all her anger. He lets her snarl at him and throw blame around and completely meltdown until she runs out of steam, collapsing down against the chain link that separates the costuming supplies from the set building supplies. She descends into tears, hiding in her arms and at rock bottom.

For a beat, uncertainty. Then, without a word, Dylan walks over and joins her on the floor under the shadow of the costume loft. He doesn’t touch her, or offer an uplifting word. He simply sits with her, being another presence in the room. There with her to sort through all that turmoil.

Tangible proof that she’s not as alone as she feels.

INT. ANGELA’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

ANGELA MOORE returns home, greeting Shawn who is working on the couch. She tiredly explains that she went to pay a visit to the Minkus family.

Shawn: How are they?

Angela: About how you’d expect.

She settles onto the couch with him, allowing him to drape an arm around her shoulders. She cuddles close, shaking her head and claiming that she can’t imagine what they’re going through right now. She only knows what she’s struggling to grapple with, and that’s already difficult enough. Shawn nods along, kissing her temple.

Angela: I just keep thinking… if I hadn’t gone away. If I hadn’t taken the job, you know, and I was still his teacher…

Shawn argues against the train of thought before it even starts. There’s no sense in trying to figure out if one or two tiny decisions were deciding factors in something like this -- and they rarely ever are anyway. She was his favorite teacher, after all, if anything she already did more good for him than anyone else.

Angela sighs, trying to accept that as truth. She asks how everyone else at AAA is doing, and Shawn admits it’s tough. He mentions what happened with Harper, speaking sympathetically about his co-teacher for perhaps the first time. As he’s doing so, the reality of their warped dynamic seems to hit him full force.

Shawn: … fuck. I’ve got to fix this, Ange.

Her expression says it all. Maybe so. He gives her another long kiss on the forehead before climbing to his feet.

INT. FOSTER HOME - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Isadora is meeting with her SOCIAL WORKER, the latter explaining what this process will be like as she is relocated. She’s hardly listening though, as this is far from the first time she’s heard the spiel.

When the caretaker explains that she will be squatting at the Van Herschings until she’s assigned a new home, that seems to strike something in Isadora. From the way her eyes are burning, it’s clear that doesn’t resonate with her. No way is she going to just hang around in a place where it’s been made clear she’s no longer welcome.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

Riley is pacing the living area, on the phone with TOPANGA LAWRENCE. She’s explaining the laborious process of moving upstate, only switching topics to what is going on with Riley far too long into the conversation.

Riley, flatly: Well, I don’t know if you heard, but one of my classmates overdosed. So.

Although her advice is well-meant, Topanga’s immediate response is to start problem-solving, which is not what Riley wants to hear. She can’t even get a word in about her project for Farkle, Topanga dominating the conversation with thoughts on how to cope and questioning the environment of the school that would push a student to that.

Topanga: You know, there really are some excellent schools here upstate. If you’re ever feeling as though things at the art school are just too hectic…

A nice suggestion, but exactly the opposite of what Riley needs right then. She’s sick of jumping from place to place only for it to constantly fall apart -- what she wants is for the home she’s built at AAA to become hospitable again. All in all, the conversation leaves Riley feeling more claustrophobic, directionless, endlessly doing the wrong thing regardless of how much right she’s trying to do.

She hangs up, collapsing into the bay window and looking out towards the twinkling lights of the city. Still bustling with activity in spite of how the world seems to have frozen around them.

She could sure afford to unwind for a hot minute…

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Maya’s phone is ringing, Katy lighting up the screen once again. Maya reaches out and hits ignore, stuffing her phone in her pocket.

Her expression is still hard to read as she gathers her duffle bag onto her shoulder. She’s dressed in dark clothing and obviously on a mission, no longer doing nothing but gearing up to certainly do something.

She crawls out onto the fire escape with her duffle, disappearing into the night.

EXT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - LUCAS’S FIRE ESCAPE -  NIGHT

Lucas is seated out on his fire escape, also looking out into the night. He’s clenching his jaw, picking at the scabs on his hands again, seeming restless and a far cry from coping well over someone he wasn’t all that close to.

Swiftly, he pulls out his phone and dials a number. He waits impatiently until they pick up, eyes shining with mischief.

Lucas: You busy? [ a beat ] I gotta do something.

INT. GARDNER HOME - DINING ROOM - NIGHT

The Gardner family is assembled for dinner, ELEANOR GARDNER leading them in prayer before they settle in for the meal. This evening is a bit out of the ordinary, however, as Eleanor includes a plea of forgiveness for Farkle’s mortal soul and to have mercy on him. Charlie opens his eyes in shock, blinking at his mother as she wraps it up with prayers towards the Minkus family and a curt amen.

Charlie is the only one not to repeat the word. Eleanor glances at him, surprised to see the disturbed expression on his face. She questions what’s going on, and Charlie asks what the heck she meant by including Farkle and asking for his “forgiveness.”

Eleanor treads cautiously, understanding that Charlie is likely overwhelmed by what’s happened and thusly pardons his attitude. She reminds him that suicide is a mortal sin, one of the gravest a human can commit as it goes against God’s power over human life. She’s merely hoping the Lord will take mercy on him when the time comes for his judgment.

Charlie: Well, don’t you think that’s a bit cold?

Eleanor: I think it’s a bit cold to decide that your wants and desires are greater than the will of the Lord.

Charlie: Maybe, but… don’t you think he deserves a little more sympathy? You don’t know what was going on with him, or even who he was. The Bible even says that mental health can absolve responsibility of it as a mortal sin --

Eleanor: Which is up for Him to decide, not me, and certainly not you.

Charlie wants to say more, but he finds he’s out of words. He just feels sick, staring at his mom as if he doesn’t even recognize her. Rosie looks back and forth between them, uncertain. Ambrose starts to say something to assuage the tension, but Charlie beats him to it. He pushes away from the table.

Charlie, disgusted: I need to be excused.

Eleanor: Perhaps that’s a good idea.

He marches out of the room without looking back. Eleanor and Ambrose watch him go, both appearing concerned. Rosie and Daisy keep their heads down, pushing around their food but not eating it.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Charlie escapes into his room, slamming his door behind him. He paces restlessly before flopping down on his bed, grabbing his pillow and screaming into it to muffle the sound.

When he puts it down, he pushes himself back into a sitting position. He runs his hands through his hair, letting out an exhausted exhale. His gaze drifts out his balcony and towards the lights of the city, Charlie getting lost in the view for a moment.

Slowly, his expressions hardens to a glare.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “A Lot of Livin’ To Do” as performed by Bye Bye Birdie Original Broadway Cast || Performed by AAA Juniors

Charlie kicks off the first verse, on edge and bristling with energy. He pushes himself off his bed and into a pace, then seems to be struck with an idea. He quickly packs a bag and climbs out onto his balcony.

EXT. GARDNER HOME - NIGHT

Charlie lands outside his balcony and looks up at it as he backs onto the sidewalk, finishing off his verse as he sprints towards his car.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Riley takes up the brunt of the next verse, singing about “men of 19 or 20, who are suave and reckless and true.” She’s dressed up and looking glamorous in bold makeup, a leather jacket she took from Maya’s closet, and semi form-fitting clothes, but she also… doesn’t really look like herself. She looks as though she’s trying to be something she’s not -- which is precisely what she’s doing.

She musters her confidence in the mirror before grabbing her purse and clambering out of the bay window.

INT. FOSTER HOME - NIGHT

Isadora is following the same routine. She has stuffed everything she cares about into a backpack and an overnight bag, clambering down the stairs and marching into the night without anyone noticing. Not intending to ever come back.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Kicking off a pattern for the episode, the rest of the number is split between events happening in real time, and a fictionalized performance on the AAA stage. In this case, that performance belongs to the A class (sans everyone featured out and about), Nigel taking on the vocal heft of the performance.

The strangest thing about their otherwise enjoyable rendition is how jarring it is to see Asher without Dylan. Asher is amidst his classmates, dancing with Jade and the other techies in the grounded stage performance, but his boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

That’s because Dylan, on the other hand, has met up with Lucas and they’re jogging the back streets of a wealthier district in the city. They’re alight with chaotic energy, as Lucas is kicking up his thievery to even higher levels tonight. Dylan tosses him a tool as they come around one of the fancy, shiny sports cars sitting parked on the street, Lucas starting the process of breaking into the vehicle.

He succeeds, pulling open the door and disabling the security mechanism swifter than it can react. He and Dylan exchange grins, Lucas climbing behind the wheel.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Maya has taken up residency in an alleyway, a busy street just overhead. She’s hard at work, opening her duffle to reveal an assortment of spray paint. Her expression is removed and determined, setting to work as she starts graffiting right over the camera.

EXT. BABINEAUX HOME - NIGHT

Zay’s car is the only one in the driveway as Charlie pulls up on the curb, abruptly killing the engine. He jogs up to the door, knocking urgently. He’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, unable to stay still.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ENTRYWAY - NIGHT

Zay descends from upstairs and pulls open the door in confusion, finding Charlie on the doorstep. Not even a second passes before Charlie steps inside and pulls Zay into a kiss, showing zero hesitation in initiating.

Something about this kiss is different, too. Insistent. Impatient. Zay is startled for a moment until he catches up and kisses him back, shutting the front door.

INT/EXT. NEW YORK STREETS / STOLEN CAR - NIGHT

Lucas and Dylan seem to be having the time of their lives, speeding down the night streets in their joy ride vehicle. Dylan shouts into the night and nudges Lucas on the arm, the latter grinning and picking up speed.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Isadora is wandering the streets, obviously not sure where the hell she’s going to go. She’s so distracted she almost walks right into the streets, only getting startled out of it when a police siren snaps her out of it.

She hops back onto the sidewalk as the cruiser breezes past, lights blinking and sirens blaring.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Things have grown serious for Zay and Charlie as well. They’re deep into kissing, but Charlie still seems to be operating with a more frantic tenor than normal. There’s a moment where Zay pulls back and starts to question if this is okay but Charlie steers right past it, pulling him back into it.

Kisses deepen… shirts come off… Zay fumbles back onto the mattress and Charlie follows...

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Maya is finishing up her project, startled out of her focus by the distant sound of sirens. She scrambles to gather her things and takes off into the darkness.

EXT. COLLEGE PARTY - NIGHT

Riley approaches the entrance to the underground college party, being held at what seems like an old warehouse of some kind. She makes tentative eye contact with the older guy monitoring the doors, but he doesn’t pay her any more attention than the other college girls slipping inside.

She smiles to herself, descending down the steps and into the party scene.

INT/EXT. NEW YORK STREETS / STOLEN CAR - NIGHT

The fun comes to an end about the same time as the song, the A class underscoring the blare of sirens as they catch up to Lucas and Dylan. The world around them reflects blue and red as Lucas stares at the rear view mirror, expression shifting from thrilled to alarmed.

Lucas, fiercely: Shit.

They pull over. Dylan glances over his shoulder at the lights and then back to Lucas, panicked.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - NIGHT

Eric is still at school, working overtime and cleaning up his office as an excuse to avoid everything else. His fragile bubble pops though as he finishes clearing his desk, stumbling upon some old notes he made to himself about Farkle and his behavior.

He stares at it, hands shaking. His expression twitches, betraying his strong facade.

INT. HARPER’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Harper is pacing her apartment, on the phone with STELLA CASTILLO. She assures her that she doesn’t need to come home from her touring gig early, the situation is tough but she will handle it just fine. She misses her though, and can’t wait to see her again.

There’s a knock at the door, a surprise to Harper. She lets Stella know she has to go, hanging up and going to answer the door.

Shawn is on the other side, obviously a shock to her. He acts nonchalant as he greets her with an eyebrow raise, awkward but just charming enough that he can pull it off.

Shawn: Wanna grab a drink?

Off Harper’s uncertain expression, as “Die Young” floats in --

INT. COLLEGE PARTY - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Die Young” as performed by Kesha || Performed by Riley Matthews

Speaking of drinking, the college party is in full swing! Riley is right in the center of it all, leading a spunky and high energy rendition of this pop classic. She’s parading around with red solo cup in hand, dancing with friendly college girls, having a rocking good time. She also catches the eye of a handful of boys, being a bit flirtatious in her devil-may-care state. There are older men of 19 or 20…

It’s the most wild she’s ever been, and it’s obvious she’s reveling in it. Accommodating and unassuming Riley Matthews, finally doing something because she damn well feels like it.

INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Jack and Anne Marie are having a quiet conversation, interrupted by a knock at the door. Jack goes to answer it, unexpectedly finding a winded and very flushed Eric standing outside.

Eric, broken: It’s my fault. It was my fault.

Jack allows him inside the apartment, guiding him in and immediately trying to get him to calm down. But Eric is in emotional hysterics, doing everything aside from actually crying. He can hardly breathe, he’s tripping over his own words, the works. Jack exchanges a look with Anne Marie, not sure what to say.

She gets the message, grabbing her coat and purse and stating that she’ll give them some space. As she goes, she gently touches Eric’s shoulder and expresses her sincere condolences for everything that has happened. Then she exchanges a cheek kiss with Jack, stepping out and leaving them alone.

Eric grows more frantic, totally incomprehensible. Jack guides him towards the couch and gets him to settle, trying to get him to listen instead of spiraling out of control.

Jack: Eric.

Eric: How many times did we say we needed to bring him in to chat? How many times did I remind myself that I needed to see him but let it get brushed aside by something else? How many times did I meet with him, only to let him go without making any progress?

Jack: Eric --

Eric: We knew, Jack! I knew that something was wrong, I saw the signs, and I didn’t act quick enough! I failed him! It’s my fault, it’s my fault he --

Jack: Eric!

Jack grabs his shoulders, jostling him lightly to get him to pause. He does, allowing Jack the chance to retort. He shifts one his hands to grip the side of his neck, locking eyes with him.

Jack: This is not your fault.

Eric looks like he wants to argue, but he’s out of words. He stares at Jack, eyes glassy and still trembling. Jack holds his gaze… and then pats his shoulder gently.

Jack: Let me make some coffee.

INT. NYPD PRECINCT - HOLDING CELL - NIGHT

Dylan and Lucas are seated on the bench, the former looking nervous while the latter is slouched back against the concrete wall, resigned. Dylan is fidgety, twisting the bracelets on his wrist and tapping his feet and bouncing his leg.

Dylan: This is bad. This is so bad.

Lucas, sharply: Would you calm down? We’re white, we’ll be fine.

The door opens, an OFFICER entering and unlocking the cell. She informs them that someone paid their bail, but they have paperwork to process so they absolutely should not leave the precinct. However, they can retrieve their things and meet with their bail out. Lucas and Dylan exchange a look, following the officer out of the cell.

INT. COLLEGE PARTY - NIGHT

Riley is just finishing pouring herself another drink when THOR (20) sidles up to join her. He’s attractive, sandy-haired, just the right amount of charming. He engages Riley in conversation, asking her a little more about who she is and commenting that he hasn’t seen her around before.

The conversation seems fun for her. She enjoys playing mysterious, leaving him with little answers but accepting his invitation to go dance.

INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Eric has had the chance to settle, no longer frantic but instead having transitioned into a numb sort of state. Jack returns with steaming mugs, handing one to Eric who takes it robotically. Jack sits down next to him, placing the coffee on the table.

Jack: Do you have any idea how much I respect you? Especially now.

Jack points out how hard the last week was on all of them, but especially Eric. And now he has to carry his feelings about it all on top of the collective school emotions, hardly getting any time to process it for himself. So it’s no wonder that he’s feeling overwhelmed --

Eric: I could’ve done something. I could’ve stopped it.

Jack: You know that’s not true. You know that’s not how these things work.

Eric: It was my job. It’s my job to protect them, and I failed.

Jack: Eric, listen to me. [ leaning forward ] This is not your fault. You did not fail. And if you did, then it’s on both of us. It’s both of our jobs to take care of those students. So if it’s on you, then it’s on me too.

He reaches forward and pats Eric’s knee, getting his attention. Eric stares at his hand, then slowly lifts his gaze to meet his eyes.

Jack: You know we work together. We should’ve tackled this together, and we’re going to handle it together. [ softly ] You are not going to face this alone.

Eric hangs on his every word. There’s something about the moment that’s deeper than just a moment of camaraderie, one that neither of them can place but that certainly exists between them… when Jack’s cell phone rings, making both of them jump. He digs for it in his pocket.

Jack, apologetically: Could be the Minkus --

Eric nods, understanding. Jack jumps to his feet, frowning at the number on his caller ID as he steps away to answer it. Eric takes the moment to collect himself, letting out a sigh and hiding his head in his hands.

He straightens up when Jack shouts from the kitchen, startling him.

Jack: He what?

Jack flurries back into the room a second later, scrambling to find his coat. Eric asks what the hell is going on, but in his frenzy Jack isn’t very helpful.

Jack: I have to -- Lucas. He -- I need to go to the station --

Eric: The station? What --

Jack: Please, feel free to stay as long as you need. I’ll be back soon. [ a beat ] Hopefully. Shit. Jesus --

Jack exits in a huff, leaving Eric alone in his apartment.

INT. COLLEGE PARTY - NIGHT

Dancing with a cute stranger at a hazy college party is all fun and games… until it isn’t. Although it doesn’t seem all that out of place considering how other duos around them are acting, when Thor makes an unexpected move and kisses Riley’s neck she clearly isn’t on the same page. She might be tipsy, but she’s cognizant enough to know that’s not the direction she wants to go in.

She jerks away on instinct, Thor still keeping a hand on her arm. He asks her if everything is okay, seemingly innocent. She clears her throat and searches for an excuse, laughing nervously and stating that she doesn’t feel much like dancing anymore.

In the midst of backing away, somehow Thor manages to back her into a dead end against a wall. He suggests that they can go somewhere else if she wants, not reading into her discomfort despite how obvious it feels. Hands shaking and feeling distinctly cornered, Riley grasps for any excuse she can think of.

Riley: I, um… I have to use the restroom.

INT. COLLEGE PARTY - BATHROOM - NIGHT

Riley skirts past a couple of drunk college girls, ducking into a stall and trying to catch her breath. She starts to tear up but talks herself down, knowing she needs to keep her cool. She needs to stay calm, and then she needs to figure out an escape plan.

After a moment, she pulls out her phone. She fumbles to open it, going to her messages and scrolling back to find the right contact.

INT. NYPD PRECINCT - LOBBY - NIGHT

Dylan and Lucas emerge from the hall with the officer, retrieving their items from a plastic bag from when they were arrested. As they direct their attention to the main waiting area, the identity of who bailed them out quickly becomes clear.

Asher marches away from the counter, eyes wide and voice frayed.

Asher: WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?

He’s interrupted before he can even finish the question, Dylan barreling him with a bone-crushing hug. He embraces him with everything in him, obviously so relieved he’s there.

Lucas looks a little less thrilled. He stares at them, confusion shifting to defensive disdain.

Lucas: You called Asher?

Asher pulls back from the hug first, glancing between them. Dylan speaks before he can address Lucas, asking how the hell he paid to bail them out.

Asher, reluctantly: … the fund.

Dylan’s face drops, mortified. The last thing Asher should be doing is dipping into his college fund to get them out of trouble -- especially after expressly stating he needed space.

Dylan: I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call. They said call someone, and my first thought was --

Asher: It’s fine. But I’ll ask again. [ looking right at Lucas ] What the hell happened?

Lucas holds his glare, not knowing what to say. He’s saved by the bell, or in this case, his phone ringing. He steps away to answer, turning away from Dylan and Asher. As he frowns at the caller ID and answers the call, in the background Asher takes Dylan’s face and questions whether or not he’s okay.

Lucas: Hello? Riley? [ a beat ] Wait, what? [ a beat ] What?

Dylan and Asher shift their attention to Lucas, watching him warily as he starts to pace. Whatever he’s hearing on the other end, it can’t be good news.

Lucas: Stay where you are. Don’t talk to them. Where are you? [ a beat ] Okay, stay put. It’s going to be okay. I’m coming. It’s going to be fine.

Lucas hangs up, alight with restless energy again. He marches back over to the other two, exhaling shortly before locking eyes with Asher.

Lucas: I need your car.

Asher: I’m -- what? No.

Lucas: I need to go. Riley is -- I have to go now.

Dylan: What’s wrong with Riley?

Lucas: I have to go. Give me your keys.

Asher, stunned: You’re seriously telling me --

Dylan: They said we couldn’t leave --

Lucas: GIVE ME YOUR KEYS!

Asher flinches, reflexively tossing them in his direction. Lucas catches them, not even saying thanks as he sprints out the doors. Dylan and Asher whip around to watch him go, wearing matching shocked expressions.

Dylan, with dread: We’re so fucked.

Asher glances at him then back to where Lucas left, slowly shifting from shocked to pissed.

INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Eric has returned from the kitchen with another cup of coffee, familiar enough with Jack’s apartment from all the hours they’ve spent working together. He settles back onto the couch, breathing deeply and trying to get himself to relax.

He shifts his focus to the paperwork Jack has on the table -- the student files of the junior class. Likely in preparation for their senior summary reports. He flips through them idly, smiling lightly at the grinning portraits of the junior class and their photos from the last three years.

Eric stops cold when he gets to Farkle, smiling smugly back at him from his sophomore student portrait. There’s a subtle shift, just barely perceptible, between that image and the one from junior year. Eric swallows, gently putting down the report back onto the table. He puts it right next to Isadora, and Charlie on the other side.

All of them, right there in front of him. All having no idea how much they mean to him, how desperately he wants to protect all of them like his own family.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “These Are My Children” as performed by FAME Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Eric Matthews

Eric kicks off this impressive vocal performance, sorting through the student files as he articulates how important this role and his influence on the children means to him. He uses the full expanse of Jack’s living room to work through his emotion, delivering a powerful rendition.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

In keeping with the other performances of the evening, the number is split half between his location and half on the AAA stage, railing into the performance with everything he’s got. It’s cathartic, at the very least, and it certainly makes the point crystal clear.

The students at Adams are his children. And he never wants to let another one slip through the cracks ever again.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “HUMBLE.” as performed by Kendrick Lamar || Instrumental

INT. ASHER’S CAR - NIGHT

Lucas is parked outside the college party, staring at the building with obvious reluctance and disdain. He can hear the bass thumping from outside, and a crowded, loud, rowdy hole in the wall is the last place he should be when he’s already on the block for the joy ride.

But he goes anyway. Lucas scowls and climbs out of the car, slamming the door.

INT. COLLEGE PARTY - NIGHT

From the moment he enters the space, it’s overwhelming. Lucas frowns at the haze of smoke and odor of alcohol and weed, weaving his way through the crowd and scanning for Riley. College girls spot him and share interested looks and giggles, but he doesn’t pay any attention.

Finally, he finds her.

Lucas: Riley -- Riley!

He pushes through the crowd to get to her, Riley whipping around when she hears his voice. Her eyes are wide and uncertain.

Riley: Lucas?

He finally makes it to her side, taking her arm and pulling her from the fray. He double takes when he actually gets a good look at her, taking in her… new style. He seems a bit torn on whether or not he should consider it attractive or not, and well aware that this isn’t the time to be thinking about that anyway, but Thor addressing them grabs his attention before he can make a decision either way.

It’s not just Thor, but Thor with friends. There’s about three of them now, and Thor questions where Riley is going so soon. Lucas can tell from her body language and the way she kinda ducks behind him that they’re what caused her to call him in the first place. He does his best to keep things from escalating, calmly explaining that they’re just going to head out.

Thor: Oh, well, you don’t have to rush out. I thought we were having a good time. Weren’t we? [ off Riley’s hesitant expression ] Of course she’s shy now. It’s okay, you don’t have to get bashful around your boyfriend.

Friend, slurring: Didn’t have those problems earlier.

Friend 2: Thor was just telling us how friendly you are. Thought we’d come get to know you ourselves.

Riley looks like she’s going to be sick. Lucas narrows his eyes, fighting a losing battle in keeping control of his anger.

Thor: It’s not like it’s a problem, you’re welcome to join us. [ loftily ] Thought we might have more fun as a group, actually.

Lucas, sharply: Yeah? You think it’s fun to hit on a minor?

That comment seems to hit something in Thor’s drunk friends, but they’re not sober enough to remember why that should be problematic. There’s a little more of a tense back and forth until Riley tries to end it, taking Lucas’s arm and starting to pull him away.

Riley: Lucas, let’s just go. Come on.

Friend: Yeah, go on then, bulldog. Woof!

Lucas is scowling, but he follows Riley’s directive. It’s only after they’ve turned away that Thor makes a crucial mistake.

Thor: Her loss. Fine, then. Go be a nobody somewhere else, slut!

Everything happens so fast. In a second, Lucas has spun back around and thrown a punch, hitting Thor so hard and quick that he falls backwards into his friends. As they’re reacting and regaining their bearings, Lucas doubles back to Riley and starts to drag her out of there.

Lucas: Come on. Come on!

Riley tears her gaze away from the carnage, taking his hands and holding on for dear life as he shoves his way through the crowd.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Zay and Charlie have evidently been making bold moves of their own. The untidy quality of the bed sheets is enough of an indication, although Charlie is in the process of fixing them for the sake of fixing something. He might want to start with his hair, which is equally messy, but that seems to be far from his mind. He’s fidgety, looking caught between guilt and discomfort as he restlessly makes the bed.

Zay returns from the hall, having just done some tidying up himself and pulling on a sweatshirt. He tells Charlie not to worry about it, in much lighter spirits than his boyfriend. Charlie can hardly look at him, swiveling away once his distraction of nitpicking has been taken away.

Sensing that something might be up but not wanting to jinx things, Zay searches for upbeat ways to break the silence. He’s rambling, almost, scrambling for anything to say that will make the oddly serious air between them disappear.

Charlie, suddenly: This wasn’t good.

Zay: … well, I don’t know if I would say that. Sure wasn’t perfect, but uh, you know, I don’t think it’s necessarily supposed to be. First time. [ a beat ] Like a lot of things, I think it just takes practice --

Charlie: No, no, not that. It was… fine. I mean, it was okay. I don’t -- it wasn’t good that we did this. That I did this.

It grows quiet. Zay chews the inside of his cheek, obviously trying to grapple with the unpleasant turn this is taking. He isn’t sure what to say.

Zay: If you mean… if this is about the “Heavenly Father,” or whatever --

Charlie: No, it’s not that either. It’s just… I just think that… [ exhaling ] I don’t think I did this for the right reasons.

Zay frowns. Doing what they decided to do tonight is already an overly emotional endeavor, and that’s heightening the way they’re reacting to one another. But he knows he doesn’t want the conversation to go where it’s going.

Zay, quietly: … you said it was okay. I asked you like, a thousand times, because I wanted it to be okay --

Charlie: I know. And when I said it --

Zay: I didn’t even know if -- I wasn’t sure either, you know? [ quicker ] I didn’t know if I was ready either but I figured if you were, if you seemed so sure, then --

Charlie: It’s not that I… it didn’t have anything to do with you.

Zay: Then why? Why would you do it if it wasn’t about you and me?

Charlie grimaces, running his hands through his hair. He snaps out a response, explaining what his mom said at the dinner table about sin and this backwards way of thinking about Farkle, and he can’t stop thinking about Farkle in general, and how life is so fucking short and abrupt and holds all these choices that he has no control over. So he just… he just wanted to do something. He wanted to choose to do something and have control over it and feel like it was okay.

Zay, stammering: And you didn’t think -- you didn’t think to tell me about that?

Charlie: I don’t know! [ voice cracking ] I just knew that I wanted to be with you, and I wanted to feel something, and have control over something, and not have my mom’s voice in my head confirming that empathy means nothing if the Lord doesn’t agree and how I can never fucking tell her about this --

Zay, exasperated: Are you ever going to tell anybody?

That’s enough to stop Charlie dead in his tracks. Zay is looking at him, vulnerable and worked up, and Charlie wants to be able to tell him what he wants to hear. Even in the midst of how confusing and overwhelming it all is, he wants to be able to give him that reassurance.

Instead, he hesitates. He hesitates just a second too long.

Zay’s lip trembles, expression shifting as he attempts to keep it together. He shakes his head, turning away from him and letting out a shaky breath.

Charlie: Zay, I’m not saying that… like I said, this doesn’t have anything to do with you.

Zay: It should. This is one of the things that should.

Charlie: I didn’t mean to --

Zay: You know that I don’t… I would never expect you to… but we’re supposed to be doing this as a team. We’re supposed to be together on this.

Charlie, tearing up: We are --

Zay: And it’s supposed to be leading towards something! If we care about each other and this means something it’s supposed to be moving towards a future -- you even said just last week that…

He can’t get his thoughts together. He can’t wrap his head around how spectacularly this has spun out, how he feels closer to him than ever but also betrayed and confused and a cocktail of every other emotion they’ve made each other feel in the last eight months.

Zay: What are we even doing?

Charlie shakes his head, stepping forward and taking Zay’s arm.

Charlie: We are -- Zay, listen to me. Listen. [ choked up ] Zay, I --

Zay: What?

Zay whips around to face him, meeting his gaze. Not letting him hide, waiting for him to say what he hasn’t been able to say.

Zay, softer: … what do you want to say to me, Charlie?

Charlie stares at him, glossy-eyed. Mouth parted open, the words on the tip of his tongue -- what he feels so strongly it’s consumed him inside and out.

But he can’t say it. He can’t put it into words the way Zay needs to hear.

Zay nods, not surprised. He gently pulls his arm from his grasp, turning away from him and wiping at his eyes. Charlie stands frozen, unable to move.

Zay: [ almost inaudible ] I think you should go.

Charlie, tearfully: Zay --

Zay: Please. [ a beat ] Just go.

Charlie waits a moment longer, hoping things will go back to before. Hoping somehow everything will go right side up again, that they’ll be the same… but it doesn’t. It won’t. He swallows back his tears and robotically gathers his things, glancing over his shoulder at Zay one more time before he disappears from the room.

Zay grits his teeth until he hears the front door close. Then he lets out a broken exhale, collapsing onto the bed and hiding his head in his hands.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Secret Love Song, Pt. II” as performed by Little Mix || Performed by Zay Babineaux

Delicately singing the opening notes of this coveted Little Mix ballad, Zay works his way into what is his most heart-wrenching and emotional performance to date. There’s no choreography or extravagance to distract from the killer vocals, just raw emotion and impressive pipes.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

His performance follows the same pattern as the others, splitting its time between his grounded location and the imaginary AAA stage.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Zay rounds out the piece by approaching his window, looking out and seeing Charlie in his car. He’s clearly crying, mirroring Zay’s own tears, but right now there’s too much distance between them. Too much weight from hasty decisions that they can’t take back or redo.

He pulls it together and drives away, Zay watching him go. Then he slides back down against the wall, leaning his head against the window sill.

INT. BLUE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

There’s a knock at the door, BLUE NGUYEN jogging in from the bedroom to answer. He looks through the peephole and then pulls open the door, a windswept and tired Isadora standing there with her bags on the doorstep.

Neither of them say anything. Blue steps back and lets her into the apartment without hesitation, gently shutting the door behind them.

INT. ASHER’S CAR - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Love Like This (Acoustic)” as performed by Kodaline || Instrumental

Lucas has parked a ways away from the party in a mostly empty parking lot. The music plays softly over the radio, set to one of Asher’s usual stations, but otherwise it’s quiet.

They aren’t looking at one another. Lucas is chewing on his thumbnail, keeping his gaze trained out the window. Riley is making herself as small as possible after the evening she’s had, hugging herself and slouched low in the passenger seat.

After a long moment, Lucas lets out a sigh.

Lucas: What the hell were you thinking?

Oop. Wrong thing to say. Riley looks at him, staring in disbelief.

Riley: What was I thinking? [ a beat, louder ] What was I thinking? You’ve got to be kidding me!

Valid reaction. Lucas cringes as Riley lays into him, straightening up and reminding him of all the stupid choices he’s been making in the last few months. The terrible attitude. The stealing. The shutting down and shutting out of people who actually care about him, who have done nothing but try and help him and he’s given back bullshit.

Riley: So you have the nerve to ask me what I was thinking? No. Sorry. I know this was dumb, and I know I shouldn’t have done it, and I had to pay for it. But I am not going to take a lecture from you!

[ There’s a long silence. Riley huffs, slouching back against the seat and crossing her arms tighter across her chest. ]

Lucas: … you’re right.

Riley: And I think -- [ realizing what he said ] What?

Lucas, defeated: You’re right. I’m stupid. I’ve been… I’ve been fucking up non-stop basically since summer. [ a beat ] Most of my life, if we’re being honest, but… whatever. That’s not the point.

Lucas goes on to repeat that she’s right, and he knows he’s fucked everything up. Now all there’s left to do is deal with it, regardless of how much he wishes he could keep running from it. Riley examines him for a long moment.

Riley: Well, if tonight demonstrated anything, I think it’s safe to say that running sort of creates more problems than it fixes.

Hard lesson to learn, but it seems they’ve both made it there eventually. They absorb the sentiment for a moment before Lucas speaks again, asking what he actually cares about. He looks at her, speaking more gently.

Lucas: Are you okay?

Riley, exhaling: [ after a long silence ] No. I’m not.

[ Lucas frowns. It looks like he wants to do something, but clearly has no idea what or how anything he might say or do could be remotely helpful. ]

Riley: But I will be. [ with a scoff ] Someone has to be.

Sad, but true. And it’s the mentality she will survive by, so she’s not letting it go quite yet. Lucas nods, shifting his gaze back out the dashboard window.

This gives her the chance to look at him again. She takes him in, finding the words she wants to say.

Riley: Thank you for coming. When I called. You didn’t have to --

Lucas, without hesitation: Of course I did.

He shifts his intense expression back to her, immediately softening when they lock eyes. It’s the first time they’ve really looked at one another all night -- it’s the first time they’ve really looked at one another in what feels like too long --and as soon as they do it’s difficult to look away. A million and one feelings floating between them, left unspoken.

Lucas manages to look away. He focuses on the car, remembering everything waiting for him back at the precinct. He murmurs about getting Riley home and turns on the engine, reaching for the gear shift.

Riley meets him there, touching his hand and keeping him from putting the car in drive. Lucas freezes and glances down at their hands, then at her, uncertain.

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even look at him, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Keeping her hand on top of his, finding warmth and comfort in it even in the midst of so much chaos and darkness.

Lucas lets his gaze drift back to their hands. He hesitates… then flips his hand over and links their fingers together. Holding her securely, confirming the notion that she’s not alone.

The two of them sit there in silence a while longer, fingers intertwined and thoughts left unsaid.

INT. BAR - NIGHT

A refreshing change of pace, the rustic-style bar is bustling and lively with adults enjoying their Friday evening. Harper and Shawn are two of those responsible adults, clinking their shot glasses together before downing another at their high table. Shawn nearly chokes on his and Harper cracks up, signaling that both of them might already be a bit tipsy.

Shawn: You can hold your liquor, Burgess. [ coughing ] I’ll give ya that.

Harper: [ with a shrug ] I went to Triple A.

Shawn: Touche.

Harper smirks, picking at their shared nacho platter. There’s a beat of silence between them, then Shawn opts to speak.

Shawn: You’re right about a lot of things, I’ll give you that too. Mostly about me.

Harper, cringing: Well, I don’t know if --

Shawn: No, no, don’t diminish yourself on my account. Stuff you said to me… [ taking a sip of his beer ] Spot on, basically. Except the neckbeard comment. I will argue that.

Harper lets out a laugh, somewhere between amused and nervous. Shawn grows more serious, waiting for her to make eye contact with him.

Shawn: Truth is, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Never have. I got this job because my brother did me a favor, chance to get my life back on track, and I figured okay, sweet. I’ll get upright, find a better alternative, and blow this joint.

Harper: But…

Shawn: But those kids, man. They’re devious. They get in your head, and it’s like, suddenly you care about them. Suddenly you care more about their well-being than your own, and you can’t just walk away from that. [ a beat ] So I’m still here, but that doesn’t mean I know jackshit. Certainly not anymore than you do, even though I sure felt the need to make it seem like I did. [ a beat, sincerely ] And I’m sorry about that. You got thrown in the deep end, and I didn’t throw you a life preserver. That’s on me. And I’m even more sorry it took something like… all this to snap me out of it.

Harper absorbs this, trying to determine whether or not it’s genuine. Then she nods, taking a sip of her own drink.

Shawn: But I’ll tell you this, something else you should know about me. When I turn over a leaf, I turn it over. I’m telling you I’m on your side now, and you better believe it. [ raising his bottle in cheers ] We’re in the underworld, Burgess, but we’ll navigate together. Sound cool?

There’s a moment of contemplation. Then Harper manages a smile, clinking her glass against his. As their drinks meet --

EXT. NYPD PRECINCT - NIGHT

Asher’s car door slams, Lucas walking sheepishly from the parking lot to where Asher is waiting for him on the curb. He’s got his hands stuffed in his pockets, glaring at Lucas and shuffling restlessly from foot to foot. There are clearly things both of them want to say, but it’s gotten harder to speak now that they’re in front of one another again.

Lucas: Where’s Dylan?

Asher, shortly: His dad came to pick him up.

Brisk conversation. Lucas has made it to join him on the curb. He tentatively holds out his keys -- Asher snatches them from him, stepping off the curb without comment. Then he thinks better of it, whipping back around and approaching Lucas again. When he speaks, his voice is strained with anger, but also trembling.

Asher, fiercely: The next time you want to ruin your life, you can leave Dylan out of it!

Lucas attempts to cover for himself, to offer some sort of explanation that makes all of this better, but he can’t. There’s nothing he can say, and there’s no way to make this better. Asher clenches his teeth, eyes glossing over as he shakes his head at everything Lucas starts to say.

Asher: Look, you can do whatever you want, Lucas. You were right the whole time -- it doesn’t matter. Not to you.

Lucas: That’s not true.

Asher: You can do what you want, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t. I’m done.

Asher turns to go, starting to head into the parking lot. Lucas steps down off the curb after him.

Lucas, panicked: Asher --

Asher: Don’t!

Both of them freeze. Lucas pauses and then steps back, respecting his wishes. Asher hesitates for one last second, almost turning around… and then he marches towards his car.

Lucas watches him go, looking more regretful than we’ve ever seen him. That is, until he turns back towards the precinct and sees Jack impatiently waiting for him by the front counter, looking absolutely livid.

INT. ASHER’S CAR - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Younger” as performed by Ruel || Performed by Asher Garcia

The instrumental starts just as Asher shuts the car door, taking a moment to absorb what the hell just happened. He lets out a sigh and falls back against the driver’s seat, pressing his palms to his eyes and trying to keep from crying.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - FLASHBACK - NIGHT

Asher’s performance takes on a slightly different structure than the rest, still split between the real world as he drives home and the AAA stage, but also this blast from the past. It’s essentially a fabrication of the origins of Lucas and Asher’s friendship, the two of them sneaking out late at night in freshman year to go wander around and talk. From the way they both grin and crack up as they go, despite being cast in shadow, it’s a stronger advocate for their relationship than anything we’ve seen as of late.

The things that Asher is so deeply holding onto, wishing things were that simple again.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

But as mentioned, he takes the stage too, and the emotion of the rendition makes it near masterful. The performers in the A class might be chilled to know there’s some serious talent hidden in the depths of the techie crew, and Asher is perhaps the most prominent example.

INT. GARCIA HOME - ASHER’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Asher makes it back to his bedroom as the song hits the bridge, clearly exhausted. He slips off his shoes and shrugs off his jacket, going to organize his things off his desk but getting caught on looking at his bulletin board again.

Carefully, he pulls another photo from the second layer of pinned items -- a picture of him and Lucas from freshman year. It’s difficult to look at, painful to acknowledge how much he feels like has changed. As he sings the lyrics “but we’re out of time,” he folds the picture in his fingers, like he’s crumpling it for good.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - FLASHBACK - NIGHT

The memory of Lucas and Asher have made it to Central Park, on the Gapstow bridge. Both of them are looking out over the edge, Lucas no longer looking at Asher.

Asher takes a moment to look at him -- really examine him, trying to figure him out. Wondering if the time they’re spending together is worth it, or if he’s wasting his energy on someone who will never return the favor.

Only this time, he doesn’t just stand there until Lucas is ready to move. As the song builds to the final chorus, memory Asher turns and hesitates one last moment… before walking away. Heading in the opposite direction, leaving Lucas behind him.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Which launches him right into the last chorus, delivering the powerful vocals with resounding emotional force. It’s obvious how difficult this is, how much it hurts, how badly he wishes this wasn’t how things were.

So I can't call you my brother, the way that we used to When we were younger, younger...

Asher finishes out the performance with a flourish, nearly stumbling as he backs out of the spotlight. He’s tear-stained, flushed, running a hand through his hair and honestly disoriented as he tries to figure out what he’s supposed to do next.

Then he exits the stage, leaving it empty and cold.

INT. BLUE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Isadora is in the living room, set up on the couch to crash for a few days. Blue comes in ready for bed, asking if there’s anything else he can get for her before he calls it a night. She assures him that it’s all good, and makes a point of thanking him for letting her stay. He tells her any time.

But it’s clear Isadora will not be finding rest any time soon. She scrolls through her phone, hesitating on the brink of a decision. Then she sits up, hitting call on her phone.

After a moment, VALERIE DE LA CRUZ picks up on the other end. She asks what’s up, and there’s a second where Isadora pauses. Then she starts to tell her everything, starting with Farkle and spiraling down into everything that’s happened since.

Actually opting to let her mother in, in spite of how unfamiliar the practice feels.

EXT. NYPD PRECINCT - NIGHT

Jack and Lucas exit the precinct, the former leading the charge and digging his keys from his pocket. Lucas lags behind, not wanting to have to go home but also not sure he wants to face Jack’s disappointment. It’s harsher than usual because it’s quiet. He’s not reprimanding him, he’s not yelling. It’s just… nothing.

Lucas: Aren’t you going to say anything?

Jack: I don’t think you want to hear what I want to say to you right now.

Lucas stops in the middle of the parking lot, not following him anymore. Jack realizes he’s no longer behind him, spinning and finding him waiting. Looking at him, expression blank, not defensive or waspish or bitter. Just waiting.

Jack sighs, holding his arms out.

Jack: Okay, you want to hear it? I don’t want to say anything because I don’t think it’s worth the effort.

Lucas, quietly: … not worth the effort.

Jack: Yes. Because there’s nothing I could say that I haven’t already said to you before. Don’t do this, don’t do that, think. Think. Think! But you never do. You never listen, and we always end up back in this spot, starting over again.

Lucas: … I didn’t mean for...

Jack: [ growing frustrated ] I can’t keep doing it, Lucas! I can’t keep sticking my neck out for you and trying to help only for you to take advantage of it at every turn. You can’t help somebody who doesn’t want to be helped. So I’m not wasting my breath anymore. [ a beat ] Now get in the car so I can take you home.

Jack doesn’t wait for him to respond. He walks over to his car and unlocks it, keeping true to his word and not wasting anymore energy than necessary.

Lucas stands there for a moment, absorbing the full consequences of his actions. It’s like it’s all collapsing on him at once, domino after domino falling over until there’s nothing left. He’s caught in the red glow of Jack’s tail lights, a tear spilling over and sliding down his cheek.

He wipes at it hastily, sniffling and then shuffling his way over to the car. He climbs into the passenger seat without a word.

INT. HOSPITAL - LOBBY - NIGHT

Maya is still dressed in her graffiti garb, removing her knit cap and twisting it in her hands. She seems a bit lost as she tries to figure out where she’s going, the nurse at the front desk asking if there’s something she can help her with. She assures her she’s fine, and when she informs her that visiting hours are done for the evening, she explains she’s just here to pick up her sister from visiting their father.

She makes up a room number and sends the nurse on a wild goose chase, waiting until she’s out of sight to head down the opposite hallway and exploring for herself.

INT. HOSPITAL - HALLWAY - NIGHT

Maya makes her way along, reading spare paperwork and files as she goes to try and figure out where exactly she’s headed. Finally, she arrives at her destination, frozen in the doorway and unable to progress any further. The temporary nameplate on the door confirms she’s made it.

F. Minkus.

Maya peers around the door.

INT. HOSPITAL - FARKLE’S ROOM - NIGHT

And there is FARKLE MINKUS. Fatigued and hooked up to a dozen little wires but alive, seemingly snoozing in his hospital bed. A laptop and briefcase on the window seat indicates that he’s already got a visitor, but no one is around.

Maya stares at him for a long moment, until the sight of it becomes too much. She starts to turn away, making her escape --

Farkle: Maya?

She winces, not sure she actually heard him. She glances back over her shoulder, Farkle half-awake and blinking at her from across the room. He looks confused, but not upset to see her there. Maya deliberates before easing her way inside, taking the seat next to his bed.

Maya: … hi.

Farkle: What are you doing here? [ dazed ] Visiting hours are… except for family…

Maya: I just wanted -- I had to see you.

That said, it’s not necessarily for good reasons. Maya explains what Eric said, about all the emotions she might be feeling. And he’s right -- she is feeling all of that. She’s furious at him, furious that he would do this without even thinking about the rest of them. She’s mortified by the prospect of him not being there -- never being there again -- despite her statements that she’s better off without him. And because of that she’s confused, not sure whether she wants to forgive him or not but now all the things she was upset with him for originally feel trivial or stupid, which isn’t fair because he still did those things. And those things shouldn’t just get wiped clean because he tried to escape them permanently.

More than anything, though, she admits that she can’t believe he was going to leave without her. That he was just going to leave her behind in the most irreversible way possible, and she can’t even begin to wrap her head around that. She doesn’t want to exist in that world.

Maya: Everyone kept saying I needed to talk to someone. I had to talk to someone about you, about what happened. They kept saying that, but the only person who… the only person I could even fathom wanting to talk to was you.

That much, Farkle can understand. He’s clearly out of it, and it’s a wonder how much of this he’ll remember later, but it’s helping Maya to say it.

Maya: I just wanted to talk to you, but I don’t know if that’s what I wanted to say. I’m not sure what else to say. I’m still trying to… figure it out. I just hope that you -- I hope you realize --

She can’t articulate it. Farkle squints at her, trying to understand.

Maya: I don’t want this bullshit world if you’re not in it, Farkle. You got that? I’m not -- we’re not all dandy but -- it’s bullshit if it’s not with you.

Maya doesn’t offer the chance for clarifying questions. She rises from the seat and makes a hasty exit, disappearing before anyone can catch her or Farkle can ask something she doesn’t yet know the answer to.

INT. HOSPITAL - HALLWAY - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Nothing Stops Another Day” as performed by Ghost Original Cast || Performed by Maya Hart

As Maya winds her way through the halls of the hospital, she launches into what is essentially the thesis of the episode -- and in some ways the season. Darkness is going to eclipse the light sometimes, and there will always be bad in the world. But the world keeps going regardless, and she can either succumb to it and disappear, or keep marching onward in spite of it.

Because the world keeps turning, and I guess it always will I can choose to turn around or I can choose to just stand still Either way, nothing stops another day...

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Of course, Maya delivers an equally stirring rendition while on the fictional AAA stage, completing the trend for performances of the evening. And, tellingly, this lyric rings particularly true as we come out of the frost of February and launch into the rest of our season:

Winter can’t hold back the spring, no matter how dark it may seem…

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Maya climbs back through the bay window, Riley already seemingly in bed and asleep after the crazy night she’s had. As Maya makes her way to her bed, she stops when she sees the item that has been left on her comforter.

The photo from Farkle’s locker of the two of them. Obviously left there by Riley, figuring she might want it all things considered.

As Maya rounds out the performance, she steps up to her future moodboard and adheres the photo to it. Surrounded by everything else, but taking a definitive space.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

The A class has assembled again on Monday, having survived another tough week. But the ripple effect of everything that has happened peeks through in subtle ways, like Maya nowhere near as glamorous and put together as usual and letting that vulnerability show. Isadora is next to her, equally as tired but still marching on. Asher is sitting closer to Dylan, their hands linked in his lap. Zay and Charlie can’t look at each other. Lucas is nowhere to be found.

Harper takes the front of the classroom, Shawn settling back against the teacher desk in the back and crossing his arms. Harper starts by apologizing for her outburst late last week, then explains that the reason she’s sorry is not because she had one, but because she wasn’t being candid with all of them. The truth of the matter is, this is just as difficult for her as it is for them, and she’s also feeling conflicted, overwhelmed, reckless, unsure.

In the midst of her speech, she grows uncertain. She glances back towards Shawn, who gives her an encouraging nod. Having her back, as he said he would.

She clears her throat, getting back on track. Some of her former confidence back intact, she explains that it doesn’t do anybody any good for them to struggle through this alone, so they’re going to get through it together. The class seems into this, offering weak smiles and nods. Dave gives an endorsing thumbs up.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Smile” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by AAA Juniors

Harper gestures Riley up to stand with her, allowing her to take the reins and explain her idea of how to honor Farkle. As the soft guitar strums float in…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The junior A class keeps it painstakingly simple for this performance, in their regular clothes and seated along the edge of the stage. Dylan and Dave play their guitars, Riley taking the gentle opening verse and then allowing the vocals to pass amongst their classmates. The divas abstain from solos, instead giving Yindra, Clarissa, Darby, and Yogi the chance to shine.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

While this unfolds, Riley leads her classmates in the decoration of Farkle’s locker. They’re adorning it with photographs, letters, flowers and warm wishes and small things for him to find when he finally returns to school. Each of them are taking the matter seriously, but also finding joy in the task. Lots of exchanged timid smiles, a couple of nervous laughs.

The reason Lucas is not in class is because he’s playing guard dog, set up on the floor next to Farkle’s locker and keeping people from stepping on the display or being careless around it. Putting his protectiveness and delinquency to good use. No one tries to stop him.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

A fair majority of the A class have shed tears in the process of the performance, but somehow it’s a good thing. Relieving, a sense of catharsis, all of them sharing in the emotion together rather than attempting to fumble with it on their own. Riley reaches out and takes Maya’s hand -- Isadora squeezes Dylan’s shoulder.

It’s nice to hear their voices in harmony again, singing about looking towards the future with optimism rather than dread. It’s not going to be easy, and there’s much to rebuild, but Maya’s earlier sentiment is right -- winter can’t hold back the spring, no matter how dark it may seem.

INT. HOSPITAL - FARKLE’S ROOM - DAY

Their assembled voices float over our last shot of Farkle, asleep in his hospital bed but in recovery. Completely unaware of the impact he’s had, how grateful people are that he’s still there. STUART MINKUS is there with him, having fallen asleep in the chair by his bed and holding his son’s hand.

You’ll find that life is still worthwhile, if you just smile…

END OF EPISODE.

IF ANY of the content in this episode has been triggering, please reach out and talk to somebody you trust and who can help you. The following links are resources including hotlines, prevention organizations, and international numbers.

Suicide Prevention: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

List of Suicide Hotlines: https://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines https://suicidestop.com/call_a_hotline.html

[svt-kismet]

a forever with you

pairing — joshua/reader

genre — fluff, proposal au, requested “100 ways to say i love you: 39. “don’t cry.” + 98. “take a deep breath.””

w.c. — 1221

warnings — none

a/n — apologies for the reupload! tumblr was acting up for a bit hhh anyways i hope secret anon enjoys this! had a lot of fun with such a prompt aaa 

+

you’d always loved the bright city lights.

being born and raised in the city, there’d been countless memories of you pressing up against the car window as you whizzed by buildings that never seemed to sleep, lights on and seemingly sparkling brightly against the stark night sky.

along the way, you found these bright scintillating lights somewhere else. specifically, in someone else.

you found them right in joshua’s eyes right from the first day you met him, at those stairs by the literary building. a burning feeling surfaces on your cheeks when you recall the exact moment at how you had tripped down the stairs and he’d practically saved your life as he quickly wrapped an arm around a torso to prevent you from not-so-gracefully tumbling further down the stairs and having to be stuck in a cast for weeks on end.

his quick instincts led him to tug on your wrist and pull you close to him, your hands instantly coming on to his shoulders to regain your balance. no one should be allowed to look that gorgeous at such close proximity. his lips looked so plump and cherry-red, and his cat-eyes seemed to press deep into a place within you. everything became white noise as you focused on him, how his orbs seemed to be swimming with golden specks, so fairy-like.

that was five years ago. even as it seems like so much time has passed, you still find yourself falling for those beautiful cat-eyes every single passing day. it’s those same eyes that make you forget about the piles of paperwork on your desk when you return home to the place you share with joshua, ready to greet you at the end of the long day with a warm embrace-- and an equally warm cup of tea.

present time, the tinted car windows tones down the bright light cast by the buildings, but they’re still just as enchanting as you remember them. whatever song the radio is currently playing just merely serves as background noise, along with the hustle and bustle of the night time city life outside the safe shells of the car. one hand supports your chin, while the other is enveloped warmly in joshua’s hand, fingers intertwined.

he’s been nothing short of a gentleman tonight, just like how he’s been since the very first day. he’d been repeatedly saying tonight was a special dinner, and you were very excited, both of you. you had came home to a garment bag hanging on your side of the closet, and inside was a stunning red piece that seemed like it cost three months’ worth of your salary.

(“you’re right, it’s actually just a little bit more than that,” joshua laughed when you brought it up when you got into the car. when you were whining at him that it really wasn’t worth it to splurge so much, he’d leaned over and shushed you with a kiss. “i’d do anything for you, princess.”)

you’d been to this particular restaurant only once, during your three-year anniversary with joshua when he’d given you the promise ring that now sits on your left ring finger. joshua only nods at the hostess, and she instantly directs you to the very same room as that night you’d dined here. the table setting is nothing short of a marvel; the most beautiful arrangement of roses and carnations sits in the center of your table, and the silverware seems to catch a sparkle from the glittering chandelier above you.

dinner was a delight, just like as always when you spend time with the love of your life who’s sitting across to you. just as the waiters bring your cleared dessert plates out and you’re about to stand to go, joshua softly calls at you, “babe? will you sit down with me?”. you halt your movements, and ease back down onto the chair.

joshua thinks it’s a good thing you can’t hear his rapidly gaining heartbeat. the room is quiet for a second, lovely violin playing from the stereo set up all over the restaurant fills the air, and joshua can barely get a word out. he’s somehow gotten more worked up over the course of dinner, stumbling over words and even breathing heavily. it takes a few calls of his name from you to get him to get back to earth. “shua! joshua! take a deep breath. calm down.”

he slowly inhales, then exhales. here it goes.

the plush carpet beneath your feet mutes the dragging sound his chair makes as he pushes it back with his legs, stands up straight, and walk over to next to you. you also move to stand up from your chair but he quickly stops you from so, and he stands still in front of you.

next thing you know, he’s down on one knee and he’s conjured up a velvet box seemingly out of thin air, one that looks eerily similar to the one that’d held the promise ring back then.

your gasp sounds louder than the stereo, and you thank heavens you’re still sitting down because your knees have never felt this weak.

joshua’s tender voice rings out as he calls you by your name. “my darling, my angel, the love of my life. you have been the most amazing person to have spent these past five years with, and i cannot thank heavens more that i get to be the lucky person to see you smile, laugh, and cry all this time. what we have is just so much more than those romances spoken about in novels or those rom-coms you always watch. what we have seems like it’s been fated all along, just like that first encounter we had at the staircase. you know i always call you my princess, and if you let me, i want to spend the rest of my life treating you like one if it means i can keep that beautiful smile on your face. my love, will you marry me?”

you don’t trust in your voice to carry your response without breaking, so you resort to nodding excitedly. joshua’s entire face lights up, and his eyes widen. the ring fits like a glove, and when it’s safely slipped onto your finger, you launch out of your seat to throw your arms onto his shoulders, sobs escaping from your lips.

both of you stand there for a while, joshua’s hand running up and down your back in soothing strokes, his sweet voice cooing at you. he holds you tightly, just like he’d done so many times before, and will continue to do the same.

it takes a moment for you to calm down and your sobs to turn into small sniffles, and then joshua gently pulls you away so he can see you.

joshua gently cups your face and wipes your tears away. “hey, don’t cry. i’m here, baby. i’ll be here for as long as you want. just like before, from now on, i’ll be here to wipe your tears away, to make your tea, to sing you to sleep, to stay with you.”

joshua’s hand goes to tip your chin up, bringing your lips close to him, you can feel his lips move as he speaks before he finally presses his lips to yours. “i’m staying, for good.”

[yougottabeekittenme]

Top 6 most informative BCB pages

A. K. A. list of Beekitten’s favourite pages

Bittersweet Candy Bowl is a comic that used to update 3 times a week. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday its fans would frantically update the main page of its official website to find out the newest developments. We were specifically impatient if the previous page contained a cliffhanger. What will happen next, we would wonder, how will the character react to this abrupt turn? Will they be okay? Will the drama descend further down the ever-growing pit of despair?

Most of the times, our question is answered. Sometimes, the new information provides us with another mystery, food for thought, material for conspiracy theories... And sometimes we get pages like these.

[CAUTION: BITCHING UNDER CUT]

6. Class of 2008, page 12

What I don’t like about it:  This page features one character, drawn twice. Neither instance is particularly detailed. The second one is not even inked or coloured; instead, it is just shaded with a pencil, reminiscent of the style of early volume 1. There is absolutely no background. Overall, it looks like the artist just gave up on it.

Why is it not #1:  While it looks a bit lazy, it still sends a message. Tess is leaving for good, and she is not just leaving the school: there is no gate or road to indicate a bigger world she is leaving to, and there are no new friends she is leaving us for. Because it does not matter. The important part is that she is leaving the comic itself. She has left, faded away, disappeared back to Volume 1 where fan-made characters like her belong, she is GONE.

5. December, page 1

What I don’t like about it: No text, not a single character in sight, page full of snow and a blink-and-you-miss-it silhouette in the bottom right corner. Sure, it looks okay to read in printed comic book format, but is it worth waiting several days for? Why is it not #1: Without anyone’s internal monologue we get slowly immersed in the story this chapter presents.  ‘That morning, it started snowing. What was just several snowflakes descending from the sky every so often at first, soon turned into a real snowfall, and by the time class started, you could hardly see anything out of the windows of Roseville High School-’ you get the point. For all its simplicity, it does get the meaning, as well as the feeling, across.

4. Total recall, page 26

What I don’t like about it: What’s not to love? It is a two pages long, messy, careless splash of black paint, followed by another giant splash of black paint and a tiny drawing of a bouquet. Wow, that must have taken so much thought to plan out, and such skill to draw!/s Why is it not #1: I’ll give it to Vera, this kinda is how it feels to get hit by traffic, in my experience. A flash of light, a flash of pain so sudden you don’t really register it, and then _nothing_. Plus, as the reader, we get this moment of suspense - oh shit! they sure got hit by that truck! Are they okay? Will they even live?? Don’t change the channel, and you find out next week, unless we decide to add another single, mute frame that does not explain a lot. Also, this was back in the times where Taeshi was drawing by hand, on paper where mistakes are less fixable, and sometimes at a rate of 5 pages per week. Can I blame her for wanting a break from drawing sometimes?

3. Escape route, page 7

What I don’t like about it: AAA huge head-  Yeah no, not really, even though I am not digging the proportions here. No, the problem is that there is nothing but a fuzzy gradient, a single bust of a character in three quarters, and a sound effect. It is made worse by the fact that this chapter includes

several

long

pages

with

little

to

no

essence

If you got annoyed reading the text above, imagine my feelings having to wait for these to go up. Eugh. Why is it not #1: Unlike everything below on the list, this page actually has One entire character bust, a gradient AND a sound effect!

2. Love again, page 31

What I don’t like about it: It is #5′s lazier looking cousin. This time we don’t even get several frames demonstrating a timeframe, or a silhouette. Just snow. Nothing but snow. Just more of the same shit that already took up half of the previous page in this chapter. If you threw this page away from the chapter, would it even be noticeable? Its function is zero, its quality is not far from that. Why is it not #1: It gets points for referencing the aforementioned chapter, sending us emotionally back to the approximate time when the flashback is supposed to take place, and also, has something drawn on it.

1. Dial tone, page 24

What I don’t like about it:

-

-

-

-

-

You get the point.

Honorary mention: Unrequited, page 11

What I don’t like about it: Prior to seeing this page, we the reader already knew that Sandy was real, and we knew how she looked. This kind of page would be emotionally justified if it were revealing something Big, but as is, it just does not have the same effect.

Why is it not #1: Technically, this page was added to the volume later during a pre-print renovation, so nobody actually had to wait for several days to see something they have already known since volume 1. It got a honorary mention at all only because, were it posted that way from the beginning, it would have been a disappointment to read in the 3 pages a week webcomic format.

That’s all, folks! Thank you for reading my salty rant, remember not to take it to heart as it is just one bitter man’s subjective bitching, and have a great time of the day.

BYE

[pollyestergivens]

Part 3: Nancy Drew & The Vanishing Set Designer

 The Importance of Cohesive, Believable Game Worlds 

A wall of text series on how Nancy Drew games largely lost their charm--this time with pictures!

Boasting more than 30 titles released over the course of nearly 20 years, it’s obvious why the Nancy Drew series has experienced changes in graphics. Thanks to never-ending advancements in PCs and artists who continue to hone their craft, the games moved ever closer to an ultra-realistic ideal. 

Improved textures and dynamic character animations were some of the most noticeable and appreciated changes that helped to further immerse the player and create a beautiful game world. That said, a convincing game world does not require the latest and greatest graphics--it only requires cohesion. The most realistic graphics in the world are nothing without a skillful designer behind the scenes, setting the stage and making everything feel “right.” Unfortunately, that designer seemed to vanish with increasing regularity as time went on.

Empty Spaces

HER has never had a AAA budget, and that comes with certain limitations. One of the most obvious is the amount of characters that Nancy is able to interact with in each game. Since creating, animating, and voicing characters takes quite a bit of time, there are rarely more than five. This can create some challenges when it comes to creating a game world which feels lively and believable.

Some locations, like the abandoned Thornton Hall or the soon-to-be B&B in Message in a Haunted Mansion need no excuse for their limited cast, but others require a bit of explaining. 

Sometimes, a story-driven explanation is given for how sparsely populated a location is. For example, in Secret of the Scarlet Hand, the museum is currently closed to visitors, just like the park in The Haunted Carousel. But other times, a few tricks are needed to seal the deal--and not every game had some up its sleeve.

The Good:

Danger on Deception Island did a good job of making the Hot Kettle Cafe, an otherwise sparsely occupied establishment, feel as if a group of bustling customers were just out of view through the use of sound effects. 

Dishes are clinking, people are chatting and laughing, but only Holt and Jenna are ever seen. Yet, the simple addition of those sound effects and a little sign saying the other part of the cafe was occupied helped the player suspend their disbelief.

Perhaps even more impressive, Danger by Design managed to make a public park feel fairly believable through the use of cleverly obscured vendors, street and nature noises, a pesky squirrel, and a suspect visiting at one point.

This location, coupled with the choice to have Nancy immediately appear behind the parfait counter at Cafe Kiki against the sound of chatting customers, allows the game developers to avoid making Paris feel underpopulated even though there are only a handful of NPCs.  

The Bad:

Unfortunately, The Phantom of Venice did not succeed in presenting Venice as well as DAN presented Paris. Though the Ca’ itself was beautiful and the musical score was, as usual, wonderful, the vast majority of the locations felt completely and utterly dead.

No amount of heels clicking on the pavement, people occasionally shouting Italian phrases, or flocks of pigeons landing briefly was going to make these locations--which are visited many times throughout the game--feel real.

The game designers chose to set many of the clickable buildings further back, revealing large swathes of empty streets and public squares, rather than having Nancy appear at the front door like she does in many other games.

While I can see they were clearly trying to showcase the unique architecture of Venice, it simply results in a mostly “off” feeling game world since one would expect lots of people to be roaming around. 

The Silent Spy--with its basically empty train station--and Shadow at the Water’s Edge--with its barren urban environments--suffer from this problem as well, along with the game I love to hate: The Shattered Medallion.

Even though MED makes a ridiculous attempt at explaining why Sonny Joon is the only member of staff present and conveniently gets rid of the vast majority of the competitors within the first act of the game, it still utterly fails at making the player feel as if they are participating in a game show. Frankly, with the constraints put upon HER by their budget and game engine, I simply cannot imagine how they could have successfully pulled off an authentic game show experience, but the lack of competing teams was far from the only issue with MED.

The Great Outdoors

The trouble with any game world is that there almost always must be a boundary--a limit to where the player can go. Except for games that feature randomly generated locations, players can expect to--sometimes literally--hit a wall at some point. The trick is to make it seem as if there is no wall.

Outdoor locations can make pulling off such a feat difficult, because as the depth of field is increases, more and more objects are required to fill all that space. However, it is by no means impossible, and HER has marvelously pulled it off many times.

The Good:

Ghost Dogs of Moon Lake was the first game to truly offer an outdoor experience. While previous games like Treasure in the Royal Tower and Secret of the Scarlet Hand had walled gardens, DOG gave the player an expansive forest to explore during the day and night.

This game succeeds at giving the player a sense of actually being deep within a dense forest by using layers upon layers of 3D trees. No matter where you look inside the thicket, you never seem to see a “wall.” 

Not only that, but allowing the player to wander in the woods rather than having every location be accessible by a jump map--like the motor boat map--makes the game world feel very large, though some players may find backtracking to be annoying over time. 

Another contribution to that sense of realism, much like the Hot Kettle trick, is the use of environmental sounds and critters. Songbirds singing in the trees, the famous chirping worms of Pennsylvania, and other woodland noises play almost constantly in the background as Nancy’s feet crunch upon earth and fallen leaves.

The DOG designers also used a limited, cohesive color palette of muted, earthy tones not only in the forest but also throughout the cabin, speakeasy, and ranger station.

The result? A game which, though it may not rival the likes of Skyrim in detail or variety, feels thoroughly cohesive and drips with atmosphere.

Similar success--though on a smaller scale--was achieved by the forest in The Captive Curse, which was full of sounds, had misty depth of field and gave the player a true sense of being lost in a dark, potentially sinister place.

The Bad:

The Shattered Medallion, on the other hand, is one of the worst offenders of a poorly designed outdoor world. Given that this game was almost entirely set outside, HER certainly had a challenge on their hands, but they failed miserably.

Contrast this forest scene with the one from DOG or CAP. Those trees are almost definitely 2D photographs pasted in a row, allowing for almost no depth of field, and it’s the same story for the mountains.

Using 2D assets is not necessarily a no-no, but here they make the actual 3D models--the silver flower stations and the puzzle palace--look wildly out of place.

The same thing is happening in this other half-ass location from MED. A strange collage of photographs with a few oddly lit 3D models pasted on top makes for a very “wrong” feeling scene.

Indeed, almost every outdoor location in MED has this very weird feeling of being on a Hollywood set--like the backdrops could fall down at any moment and reveal the whole thing to be a farce--and it’s made only worse by the almost complete lack of background noise. Admittedly, I have never been to New Zealand--perhaps it really is deathly quiet--but this game could have greatly benefited from some consistent sounds of nature to liven-up its otherwise lifeless locations.

On top of all that, this game seems to have no color scheme of which to speak nor does it feel expansive. A jump map is used extensively for traversing the landscape, with many outdoor locations only allowing the player to take a mere handful of steps in any given direction.

The result? A game which simply feels “wrong” in nearly every conceivable way.

By no means is MED the only offender, though. Similar depth of field issues--though not as egregious--were present in Secret of the Old Clock, and as far as cohesion goes, I think we should all take a moment of silence for this travesty:

All I can say is, whoever approved that design was just...wrong.

The Jump Map

Jump maps can be great time-savers when going back and forth is a key gameplay element, and the Nancy Drew games certainly involve a lot of back and forth. Sometimes they save a player a lot of headache, but sometimes they break immersion--particularly when they attempt to stand in as a cheap substitute for an expansive, believable game world.

The Good:

Danger on Deception Island is one of many games which features a jump map for key locations.

What makes this map work is simple: each location is fairly large and immersive in its own right, and there is presumably little to be gained by forcing the player to click one million times down the actual road to each place.

That said, while the player may jump from the lighthouse to the Hot Kettle with the click of a button, copious amounts of kayaking, exploring beaches and the enormous tunnel system keep the game from seeming too constrained. The player feels as if they really have explored Deception Island, rather than feeling as if they have simply visited a few buildings.

The jump map in DOG, SSH, STFD and various other titles work for the same reasons--the forest, Beech Hill museum, and WWB studio respectively seem so large that jumping around to smaller, more limited locations doesn’t actually feel very limiting at all. Plus, the art style used for the map can often add to the immersion, like the subway and train maps. 

The Bad:

Though its map certainly looks plausibly like an amusement park flyer, The Haunted Carousel was the first game with a jump map that truly felt like a limitation.

Though there are double the “clickable” locations on CAR’s map in comparison to DDI’s, there simply isn’t much to explore in CAR’s locations. Indeed, the park feels very tiny, and I can’t say I truly felt like I “saw” Captain’s Cove. Perhaps if even one location had allowed for more open exploration, the game wouldn’t have felt so limited.

In the same way that mini-games and repetitive tasks can serve to artificially lengthen or beef up a game, jump maps can attempt to artificially expand a game world. Sadly, there are even more cheap tricks deployed in service of this goal. 

Third Person Perspective

Secret of the Old Clock was the first game to transform the jump map into a driving simulator, and this mechanic was met with mixed reception--it seemed like players either loved it or hated it for various reasons. Regardless of opinion, this game mechanic always introduces a risk: the style of the game changes.

No longer is the player immersed in a first-person, beautifully rendered 3D world--they are now dropped into third-person on a stylized, top-down map. The effect is simple: the player is very aware they are playing a video game. 

The Creature of Kapu Cave, The White Wolf of Icicle Creek, The Phantom of Venice, and The Haunting of Castle Malloy all featured variations of this third-person mechanic, and many games afterwards incorporated some form of the driving simulator to varying degrees of success, but Ransom of the Seven Ships went absolutely wild with it all.

From sailing around, to scuba diving, to rock climbing, to digging holes, to driving the golf cart around the island--the player was constantly yanked from the first-person, 3D-rendered game world and thrust into what were essentially 2D mini-games. While the color scheme was consistent, the art style varied greatly, making the game feel much less cohesive than many of its counterparts.

While RAN certainly felt like a very large game in terms of terrain--complete with copious amounts of agonizing back-tracking--it really lacked immersion. Indeed, there is no real sense of urgency like that in The Final Scene--despite it being Bess who has been kidnapped--and the focus is constantly taken off of the mystery at hand and onto figuring out how to drive correctly or sail that godforsaken boat.

A Matter of Preference

Ultimately, I think the Nancy Drew games evolved along something of a sliding scale. In the beginning, the aim was to put the player into Nancy Drew’s shoes, but this aim slowly and steadily shifted towards that of simply creating a game. And the truth is, there is nothing wrong with either aim; it’s all about what experience you’re looking to have.

When I first started playing the Nancy Drew series, I was looking for a mystery-solving simulator and I couldn’t get enough. I’ve played a lot of other detective games, but the ND games were really something special, so when they stopped delivering the same type of product, I really felt like something great had been lost.

Again, there is nothing wrong with game-y games, but there is something to be said about games that try to provide an authentic experience. It’s not every day that an ordinary person gets to solve a mystery--a mystery that seems so plausible that you feel a real sense of accomplishment when you unravel all its threads.

I missed that in so many of the later games, and I think that’s a shame. 

Read Part 1: Nancy Drew & The Curse of the Pointless Task & Part 2: Nancy Drew & The Case of the Missing Realism

[gunsandfics]

aaa can I request a modern John Laurens X reader where it's their wedding day and they're both experiencing full on jitters and it's cute and stuff? no smut just fluff

hey hey I hope you enjoy this sickening fluff

john is my baby ok I love him so very much

Jitters (Laurens/Reader)

“Howdy! This is John Laurens’ cell. Uh, if you hear this message, I probably can’t get to the phone, or my battery has run out. Leave a message after the beep.”

BEEP

“Uh, hiya, hon. I just- I just needed to hear your voice, but, uh, I guess the guys have taken you off on some wild adventure. Um,” You tap your fingers to your lips as you furrow your brow. “I guess, uh, have a good party. No strippers! I’ll see you tomorrow,” You pause, thinking of something suitably cheesy to say. “I’ll be the one in white. I love you.” You say, and hang up, smiling.

“So?” Your friend Angelica asks, coming up behind you and resting a hand on your shoulder.

“Voicemail. I guess he must be having a wild night tonight…”

Angelica giggles. “It’s Alexander, Lafeyette and Hercules. Of course they’ll make his bachelor party something to remember. Besides, this is your bachelorette party, too, and we’re going to have fun, fun, fun!”

“Yeah…” You say wistfully.

Angelica catches your eye. “Uh oh. I know that look. You don’t want to stay at this party.” She grins knowingly at you.

You sigh. She’s right, you’d do anything to just be spending tonight, this last night before your wedding day, curled up on your rickety old sofa with John as you watch corny cowboy movies and feed each other Doritos and popcorn as though in the sickening honeymoon phase. 

Hey, what can you say? You’re in love, after all.

“You’re right, Angie. I don’t, but…” You’re cut off by the distinct beeping of your cell phone. You glance down at it.

John❤️, reads the screen. 

“Ah.” Angelica smirks. “I’ll leave you to it!” She squeezes your shoulder and walks off to join her sisters, standing a few yards away to give privacy.

You bite your lip to suppress a smile and swipe the screen, holding the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, babe. Sorry I missed your call, I didn’t hear my phone go off.“ The warmth in your fiancée’s tone soothes you. You can already imagine the wide grin on his face.

"It’s okay.” Your eyes crinkle as a slow, steady smile spreads across your face involuntarily. “What have the boys got you doing? No strip clubs, I hope.”

“Nah. Nah, just a night around town. We’re at a bar. Alex bet Herc that he can out drink him.”

“Poor Al.” You shake your head. “Tell him not to drink too much, yeah? We need him sober for his best man speech tomorrow. He can’t tell funny anecdotes with a hangover.”

“Ugh.” John groans, and you laugh. “Why did I make Al my best man again?”

“Because you went by the logic that you’ve known him the least time, therefore he would have less embarrassing stories. Of course, you failed to realise that since he’s your best friend, he would have the most embarrassing stories.”

“I’m an idiot." John sighs.

"You’re my idiot.” You say fondly. A sweet silence follows.

“…Can I tell you something?”

“Anything,”

“…I’m…I’m really, really j-jittery and nervous." John admits. Your breath hitches. Him too?

”…So am I.“ You whisper softly. You can hear John heave a sigh on the other side of the phone.

"I don’t wanna screw this up." 

"Me, neither.”

“And I don’t just mean the wedding. I mean…us. I love you, (Name), and I don’t want to lose you, not for anything.”

“You won’t. Not for anything. I love you too, John. And it’ll be a lot clearer tomorrow when I see you at the end of the aisle, waiting for me.”

You can hear the smile in his voice at his next words. “You’re going to be stunning. I love you. Bye, now.”

click

The wedding preparations pass by in a blur, between people doing your hair, makeup, and helping you into your dress.

Oh, your dress.

You had to hand it to Hercules, he was an amazing tailor.

The dress was long, pure white and silky, and it clung to your upper body like you had walked though a delicate spider web. From your waist down, however, it flowed, almost like running water pooling around your feet. The train wasn’t that long. There was a light lilac sash tied just under your bosom with a delicate gold trim, and you had a sweetheart neckline with sheer, off-the-shoulder sleeves. It was beautiful.

You were beautiful.

Your makeup was mostly a natural look, but your lipstick had a slight purple tint and your eyeshadow was also muted purple. Your hair was tied in an elegant French braid, with a lily tucked just behind your ear. You held a bouquet of violets, lilies and lilac.

You can't stop staring at yourself in the mirror.

“(Name)?” Eliza calls from behind the partition that hid you. 

“Y-yes?” You mumble.

“Come on out! We want to see you!” Peggy says encouragingly.

You take a deep breath, close your eyes and reveal yourself. The Schuyler sisters gasp and clamour in praise.

“You look beautiful!” Angelica cooes.

“You…you think?” You ask, mouth dry and palms sweating.

“Of course!” Eliza assures you. 

Peggy frowns as she notices your hands trembling. “You’re nervous.” She states.

“Yeah. I’m all jittery.” You say, voice shaking.

“It’s all going to be okay. You won’t make a fool of yourself.” Eliza says calmly, squeezing your shoulder. You smile weakly at her as the wedding march begins. The sisters get into line in front of you, and you are vaguely aware of a large, male hand wrapping around yours and guiding it to a bicep, in preparation to walk you to your groom.

Your cue plays, and you step into the room, catching a quick glimpse at the guests before your eyes are full of John.

It takes all of your willpower to not rip your hand free and sprint down the aisle into his arms.

The walk takes an eternity, but you don’t even care, because he is right there and he is so breathtakingly, mindnumbingly beautiful that you can feel your heart breaking into pieces in your chest but you still don’t care. You could watch him forever.

You love him.

His eyes are alight with so much wonder and love, and his smile is wide, happy and bright. His unruly curls are pulled back into a low ponytail, and he is wearing an immaculate black suit with a lilac tie, the exact shade of your sash.

As you get closer, though, you can notice the faint sheen on his freckled forehead and the slight tremor in his hands as they reach out and encompass yours. His hands are damp with nerves, but that’s okay, because so are yours, your fingers threaded though his as he gives your palm a light squeeze. 

Just being near him calms you. Your jitters subside, and you can see that he visibly calms as well. 

Your eyes lock and your cheeks immediately redden at the emotion and devotion prominent in his gaze. 

“Dearly beloved.” The minister begins. “We are gathered here today…”

You don’t hear any of it, until he motions towards you to say your vows.

“(Name) (Last Name), I have loved you since the moment I first saw you.” John begins. “I remember walking into my English class in my sophomore year, and all I could see was this girl with a (hair colour) head of hair sitting in my usual spot. I was ticked off, until you shifted slightly and your hair fell differently, showing me your face, and all I could see was this gorgeous girl. In my seat.” The crowd titters and he grins before continuing. “I was always too shy to approach you, to which Alexander, Hercules and Lafeyette would tease me to no end, even after introducing us when I would even talk to you rarely. When the teacher assigned us to be partners in our project, I was sick with nerves and convinced I would quit. Until you gave me that beautiful smile of yours and I felt calmer instantly. In that moment I knew that one day, I was going to marry you. I promise to always love you and to forever stay true to you." 

You don’t realise that you are crying until John reaches up to brush your tears away with his thumb.

You take a deep breath before smiling and beginning your own vows. "John Laurens, the second I met you I dreamed of marrying you. When Alexander introduced us, I remember getting so nervous that I had to leave early. On the day you finally asked me to Homecoming, full of nerves and holding a bouquet of lilies, I felt so happy I could burst, and I started crying. We’ve been inseparable ever since. I want to grow old with you. I want to share everything with you. The two children with the fat cocker spaniel and a house with a porch - I don’t need those things, as long as you’re by my side for the rest of my life. You are my everything. I love you so much, and I always will.”

There isn’t a dry eye in the room as you finish. John lets out a quiet, shaky breath as tears brim and slip down his grinning face.

“John Laurens, do you take (Name) (Last Name) to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

“(Name) (Last Name), do you take John Laurens to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do!”

“By the power invested in me,” The minister declares. “I declare you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

The last thing you see as your eyes slip shut is your husband's beaming, tearful face as you feel the weight of his lips pressed against yours.

[agidolan]

Aaa this is amazing!

I especially I love the dialogue you give Marvin. It is basically an evil villain monologue, but it fits so well with Marvin’s flamboyant and sassy personality that it works! He also walkes around with such a triumphant and cocky air, which I love!

The magic seems also very real, as it’s small pinpricks of light and not huge flashy moves, which works well with the setting, a closed off, quiet, and muted bunker/ garage (thats where I think it’s set, at the very least). The final sentence is also amazing, as it’s something that fits so so well with Marvin’s character.

I think you could maybe add more set up? I do get the feel you were going for with the opening, with everything starting abruptly, but I do think a little more set up would be good, to establish what is going on and what is happening, and also to establish the tone, as it is a tiny bit shaky.

I would also personally like more description. There was a good amount of it, but I couldn’t 100% grasp what the area looked like. However, I’m a pretty visual person and like to see things clearly in my head.

There are also some confusing/ vague elements, like the ghosts of Henrik’s past and the walking corpse. I have an idea of who they could be, namely the people he killed at the operating table and Robbie, but clarification would be nice. I get that this is based off of an arg, but to someone who has no idea what happened there, it can get confusing.

You grasped Marvin’s character really well, but Henrik’s was a bit ambiguous. I get that he couldn’t talk, so you couldn’t express his personality and thoughts that way, however adding descriptions of his small actions and maybe facial expressions could add to understanding his character a bit better.

Overall it’s fuckin stellar, but there are definitely a few things that could be polished here and there!

Recompense

“I had a feeling it’d be you.”

He’s leaning on the wall, hands shoved in pockets and one heeled boot keeping his balance on the concrete. Henrik pulls against the flimsy-looking restraints, testing their strength, but they don’t budge. Marvin scoffs.

“Come on, doc. It’s magic! You know, the shit you thought was cheap parlor tricks?” A pinprick of silver light, gone before Henrik could blink. Marvin cocks his head, an unimpressed eyebrow poised high. “How’s that working out for you now?”

Silence.

“Tough crowd.” Or maybe it’s just the spell Marvin used to make sure he didn’t scream. He shrugs. Henrik was still going to pull the stoic shit and glare at him, so it didn’t really matter either way.

Marvin kicks off the wall, striding towards the lab table the other’s strapped on. “Now, I admit they had me at the start, but as soon as that first $1000 donation came in, I knew you would walk away as the victor.”

“And well, look at you. They thought-” Marvin snorts. It was too amusing not to. “Hah, they thought they saved you! It’s kinda pathetic once you think about it.”

Ah, there it is. The indignant, disapproving glare that practically Henrik’s signature stare. Marvin ignores it with a practiced gaze, examining his nails and picking out any dirt he finds underneath. “They lead you here, but more importantly, they drove Chase right to me. I couldn’t have planned it better if I tried.”

Henrik’s eyes widen for a moment, a quick flash before he schools his expression back to the blank, faceless mask. Marvin catches it out of the corner of his eye and grins.

“Tell me doc, does it hurt to know they failed you? All this time, they believed they were protecting you all from Anti.” A sharp laugh rips out of his throat as Henrik flinches. It’s ludicrous. He can’t help it. “They have no idea who’s lurking just out of sight.”

He pretends to wipe a tear from his cheek. “It- it’s fucking hilarious, honestly.”

He pulls up a chair, metal legs scraping across the floor as spins it around and sits on it backward. “They put me in last, but if they knew the truth, they’d flock to me more than they ever had to the glitch,” his elbows lean on the backrest, one hand propping up his chin as the other dangles off the chair, and he shrugs, a cheshire smile stretching across his face. “I guess that means I’m doing something right.”

“But in the end, it comes down to you and me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he reaches out, tapping Henrik’s nose once before he jerks it back, wiping his hand on his shirt with a sneer. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll let Chase take a couple swings at you if he behaves. If you’re not completely insane by then, that is.”

Marvin rises from the chair and kicks it several feet away before he snaps his fingers, rings shining as several spirits come into view. “Have fun facing the ghosts of your past! Oh, and don’t worry, I’ll make sure the walking corpse stops by as well. Good luck explaining to him what you did.”

Henrik twists in the restraints again, and the silent spell breaks as silver light flashes, a supernova contained in a darkened room.

Marvin makes sure to record his screams when he’s gone.

Happy birthday, @cyanacity. I hope you enjoy Henrik’s reward. =)

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