#but i think its too late to change it so…

[hanniebaeee]

Clueless: Peek-a-boo?

Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: suggestive content MDNI

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff

Summary: You and Felix live on the topmost floor of your buildings - apartments facing each other, with long windows giving a glimpse into each other's lives. And then one day, everything changes.

Clueless Masterlist

Every evening, Felix saw the most beautiful girl in the window opposite to his. You lived in the apartment facing his, in the building opposite to his.

He didn’t know he believed in angels, until you showed up at that damn window, all soft light and effortless grace, and he became a devout believer. But those floor-to-ceiling windows in your bedroom seemed to be your favorite place because he saw you there a lot. Looking so peaceful as the breeze kissed your skin and the city lights illuminated your face.

He told himself to stop. That you were just a stranger. That this window obsession was not normal human behavior. But every time you stretched by your window or gave him a soft smile, Felix felt blessed.

And then, it happened. 

It was a normal night. Felix had just finished a shower, steam curling around him as he stepped out, a white towel hanging low on his hips. He was drying his hair with another one. 

Completely normal. Until it wasn't. 

Because of course, God had favorites and Felix definitely wasn’t one of them, apparently. You were standing by the window as usual. Your eyes met. Felix didn't even know what had happened until it was too late, and the towel around his hips was already on the floor.

For a solid three seconds, you froze. You didn’t mean to look. You really didn’t. But it happened so fast that your poor, innocent eyes bore witness to everything.

A choked sound clawed its way up your throat. Your hands flew to your face as you spun on your heel, bolting so fast from the window that Felix swore you left behind a cartoon dust cloud.

And Felix? Felix quickly covered himself with the towel in his hand, his heart pounding so fast. 

"NO. NO, NO, NO, NO"

---

Felix: GUYS I’M MOVING TO ANTARCTICA. IT WAS NICE KNOWING Y’ALL.

Chan: What? 

Hyunjin: What did you do?

Minho: Leave your key under the mat.

Jeongin: Wtf happened? 

Felix: I FLASHED MY NEIGHBOR.

Felix: MY WINDOW GIRL. MY ANGEL. THE LOVE OF MY LIFE. SHE SAW EVERYTHING.

Seungmin: define everything

Felix: Everything everything. 

Changbin: bro what do you mean you flashed your neighbor??

Jisung: Oh Lord 💀💀

Felix: MY TOWEL FELL. SHE WAS RIGHT THERE. OMG. 

Hyunjin: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Chan: Oh my god.

Felix: AND NOW I HAVE TO FAKE MY DEATH AND ASSUME A NEW IDENTITY. OMG.

Hyunjin: You just gave your crush an exclusive, VIP, free-of-charge viewing of your whole ass body and you think you're suffering??

Felix: YES I’M SUFFERING??

Jeongin: Nah bro I think she’s the one suffering.

Felix: I AM GOING TO CRY.

Minho: Pack your bags.

Seungmin: It was nice knowing you. 

Felix: I’M NEVER SHOWING MY FACE AGAIN.

Hyunjin: Imagine running into her 😁

Felix: SHUT UP.

Changbin: Bro ur gonna have to move.

Felix: I KNOW.

Jisung: Idk man. she might’ve liked what she saw. 👀

Felix: HAN JISUNG I WILL KILL YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS.

---

You were disintegrating. No. Worse. You were ascending. No. Even worse. You were being violently ejected from the mortal plane.

Because you had just seen your hot, ridiculously beautiful neighbor - on whom you had the biggest crush - completely utterly naked.

Your soul had left your body the moment his towel hit the floor. It was probably somewhere in another dimension, floating through the galaxies, forever lost. 

And his eyes - those big, brown, Bambi eyes - had gone so wide, so shocked, so horrified. Oh your heart did weird flips. You were never recovering from this. Ever. 

Felix had spent the entire night buried under his blankets, contemplating his life choices while the boys absolutely tore him to shreds over this incident. 

He had spent the entire next morning aggressively gaming to forget everything (it didn’t work). He had spent the afternoon avoiding every single window in his apartment. 

And yet. And yet.

When the evening rolled around, when the sky turned a dusky shade of orange and the city lights flickered on… he couldn't help it.

He looked. He had walked into his bedroom, and his eyes fell on the window, and he took a peek. His brain told him no. But his dumbass heart said yes.

And there you were.  Beautiful as ever. But your face? Murderous. You were arguing.  

Your phone was pressed to your ear, your free hand waving wildly as you went off on whoever was on the other end of the call. Your brows were furrowed, your lips moving rapidly, and your whole body was tense. 

Felix froze. And Felix was turned on. So damn much.

How did you look this good while yelling at someone? How did you manage to be so breathtakingly hot when you were this angry?

And unfortunately for him, you turned and looked straight at him. 

Felix panicked, and flinched. Instead of playing it cool like a normal human being, his reflexes betrayed him in the worst way possible. He was just trying to run, but tripped over his own feet - legs tangled, arms flailing.

His entire body went crashing onto the floor. For a second, he just lay there, praying you didn’t see that.

But of course you did. The phone was off your ear, and you were looking at him with concern on your face and Felix just wanted to die. 

---

Felix: I JUST FELL FLAT ON MY FACE. 

Felix: IN FRONT OF HER.

Felix: SHE WAS LOOKING RIGHT AT ME.  

Felix: I AM NOT OKAY.

Hyunjin: LMAOOOOOOO

Jeongin: HAHAHAHAHAHAH 

Jisung: At this point, I don't even know how you do this. Repeatedly. 

Seungmin: Hold on. HOLD ON.  

Seungmin: You got caught staring at her AGAIN?

Felix: IT WASN’T ON PURPOSE.

Minho: You are an embarrassment.  

Felix: I AM IN DISTRESS.

Felix: SHE’S SO HOT WHEN SHE’S ANGRY I WANT HER TO YELL AT ME.

Minho: Yongbok. This is not how I coached you.

Jishng: Oh please. This is exactly how you coached him. Striptease and simping. He did just that.

Hyunjin: Omg, LEE KNOW?!

Minho: 😑

Hyunjin: Do you need me to send an ambulance?

Jeongin: No, he needs a one-way ticket to the underworld at this point.

Seungmin: SHE HAS SEEN YOU BUTT-ASS NAKED AND NOW SHE’S SEEN YOU FACEPLANT INTO THE FLOOR.  

Seungmin: Wow. You're even worse than Jeongin at this point.

Jeongin: Excuse me, my girlfriend will Osotogari you into another dimension if I say so. 

Seungmin: Try me.

Jeongin: 👊

Felix: Why am I like this 😩 Why does God hate me?! 

Minho: He doesn't hate you.

Minho: He’s just trying to humble you. 

Felix: I AM HUMBLE ENOUGH.

Jisung: Are you though. 

Hyunjin: Just confess at this point bro wtf. 

Felix: CONFESS WHAT??? 

Jisung: THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HER. 

Felix: I DON’T EVEN KNOW HER.

Chan: Bro.

Minho: You know the exact times she gets home every day.

Jeongin: You literally talk about her all the time. Jisung: AND YOU JUST ADMITTED YOU THINK SHE’S HOT EVEN WHEN SHE’S ANGRY.

Felix: Bye. 

You had resisted Jennie’s invitation at first. Because it's already a trap that your best friend lives in the same building as him. But you were not going to run into him after the two disastrous days you've had.

“No. Absolutely not.” You said, shaking your head.

Jennie's face was so close to the camera, you could literally smell her through the screen. 

“Why?” Jennie asked. "Why are we on video call? I live right next door!"

“Because the hottest man I’ve ever seen lives there, and I -”

Jennie squinted. “Uh huh. It's never stopped you from visiting before. You’re lying.”  

“Am not.”  

“You are. Spill.” 

“I might have accidentally seen him naked -”

“EXCUSE ME?” Jennie shrieked. 

You waved frantically, trying to talk over her shrieking, “NOT ON PURPOSE!”  

“WAIT, WAIT -” She pointed at herself. “You saw a naked hot guy and you didn't tell ME?!”

You sighed. “Yes.”  

Jennie’s jaw dropped.

“WHY HAVE I NEVER MET THIS GUY?!?”  

“I'm hanging up!”

“Oh my God, chill! SO VIOLENT.”  

“I am not running into him. You can come over anytime you know.” You said, glaring at her. 

Jennie rolled her eyes and said, “Oh, come on. What are the odds you’d run into him?”  

You hesitated.  

Jennie had a point. You wouldn’t randomly see him, right? 

---

Fast forward to now:

You sprinted for the elevator just as the doors were closing, because you weren't going to climb ten floors to Jennie's apartment. 

You barely made it. And the second you stepped inside, you locked eyes with him.  

HIM.

You felt every single one of your brain cells exit your body. And he didn't look any better. In fact he looked seconds away from climbing the walls like a feral animal. You had never seen a man so close to death before. 

But your mind? Your first thought? Oh. He actually looks nice in clothes. Like you've always seen him in pyjamas, or hoodies (or absolutely nothing). But he actually looked so good in his jeans and black t-shirt and the leather jacket. 

Ok, you needed to leave. Immediately. So you turned, trying to make it out before the doors closed. It was funny how they slid shut right on your face. 

The silence was even worse. Crippling and suffocating.

---

The doors slid open on Jennie's floor, and you were about to step out, but there stood Jennie.

Why the hell was she standing there? 

Her eyes immediately landed on you.  Then on Felix. Then back to you. You don't know what she saw on your face, because her eyes narrowed.

“IS THAT HIM?!”  

You jumped and slapped your hand over her mouth. 

“SHHHHHHHH.” 

Jennie’s eyes screamed, as if to say, “OH MY GOD IT’S HIM” 

The elevator doors closed again, and Jennie said, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME HE WAS THAT HOT?!”  

“JENNIE WHAT THE FUCK?!”  

“Oooohh, you like him!” Jennie smirked, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You swung you bag at her and she escaped narrowly with a squeal. 

---

Felix: I WAS IN AN ELEVATOR WITH WINDOW GIRL.  

Jeongin: OH. MY. GOD.

Hyunjin: LOL 

Minho: WHAT ARE THE ODDS????

Felix: ZERO. THE ODDS WERE SUPPOSED TO BE ZERO.

Chan: LMAO 

Jisung: Felix, this is destiny  

Hyunjin: Did you talk?

Felix: NO. I WAS TOO BUSY MALFUNCTIONING

Changbin: Did she say anything?

Felix: NO. She tried to escape but the doors won that round. 

Jisung: STOPPPP 

Hyunjin: NOT THE ELEVATOR BETRAYING HER🤣  

Minho: So much potential

Jisung: Ask her out, you coward. 

Felix: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP 

You felt bad. Because the poor guy has been repeatedly traumatized for no reason, and it felt absolutely unfair. So you decided to be mature about it. 

Your knees wobbled at the thought of talking to him face to face. So you had another idea. 

---

Later that evening, you sat by your window as usual (waiting). 

There he was. Felix walked into his room, stretching, and then froze when his eyes landed on you. You quickly picked up the little white board you'd ordered just for this (dramatic yes, but this was a dramatic situation). 

He watched curiously as you wrote something on it quickly, and held it up for him.

I’M SORRY FOR WHAT HAPPENED.  

Felix blinked, completely surprised. And his face turned a cute pink. And then he did something that made your heart flutter. He smiled. A soft shy one.   

Felix watched, his heart pounding so fast as you started writing again. Then, you held it up. 

DO YOU WANT TO GET COFFEE WITH ME?

Felix.exe has crashed. His crush, his dream girl, just asked him out.  

Felix scrambled. He looked around his room for something and came running back with a book and a marker. 

 YES. YES. HOLY SHIT YES.  

You snorted as you saw his reply. Then he wrote again. 

I’M FELIX.

You grinned, quickly scribbling back.  

I’M Y/N. NICE TO MEET YOU FELIX!

You watched as he smiled softly, his cheeks still pink.  

AND YOU. CAN I PICK YOU UP TOMORROW?  

Your stomach flipped. This was actually happening. Really really happening. You bit your lip, then quickly scribbled. 

7PM?

Felix beamed and nodded, with the biggest, dorkiest smile on his face.  

---  

Felix: HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT

Hyunjin: WHAT WHAT WHAT?! 

Jisung: HE’S HAVING A STROKE I CAN FEEL IT.

Felix: SHE JUST ASKED ME OUT.

Changbin: YOU’RE LYING. 

Seungmin: LMAO

Jeongin: And and and?!? 

Minho: SHE WHAT.

Chan: SAY YES. SCREAM IT. 

Felix: WE HAVE A DATE. I’M DYING. OMG.

Felix: SHE JUST ASKED ME OUT THROUGH A FUCKING WHITEBOARD.  

Jisung: WHY IS THAT SO STUPIDLY CUTE! 

Hyunjin: NOT THE WHITEBOARD CONFESSION!

Jisung: EVERYONE SHUT UP. LIXIE HAS A DATE! 

Hyunjin: Gotta say, you have the best story to tell among us

Minho: And here I thought Hyunjin was the most embarrassing among us

Hyunjin: Obviously it was Jeongin for being thrown around by his girl

Jeongin: Well excuse you, Jisung nearly peed his pants when he wanted to ask HIS girl out

Jisung: Please. Guess who stripped for forgiveness? Um, not me? 

Minho: I DID NOT STRIP FOR FORGIVENESS!

Chan: Amatures. All of you.

Changbin: You didn't even know that your fiancee was literally carrying your child and ran around wailing that she didn't love you anymore. Oh my God.

Chan: CHANGBIN!

Seungmin: He's got a point, ya know

---

Felix was obviously so stressed. Because he wanted this to be perfect. And suddenly, everyone was giving him dating advice. And none of it was remotely useful. What's new. 

---

Changbin: Bro you gotta flex. Show her those arms. 

Felix: WHAT.

Chan: Yeah, mate. Roll up your sleeves, make the veins pop.

Felix: Omg  

Hyunjin: He'd literally pop a vein and then we'll actually have to send an ambulance. 

Jisung: Accidentally brush fingers when you pass her the coffee. Totally innocent. 

Minho: ALPHA MALE STARE. Look her in the eye. Don't blink. 

Felix: I’M GONNA GET ARRESTED.

Jeongin: Drop something, and pick it up slowly so she sees your back muscles.   

Felix: She has unfortunately seen way too much muscle to last a while 😵‍💫

Hyunjin: OK. SHUT UP EVERYONE. FELIX. JUST BE YOURSELF.

Jisung: YEAH. BE YOURSELF. BUT HOTTER. 

Felix: 🙄🙄🙄  

The date was in an hour. And Felix was barely keeping it together. His entire apartment looked like a crime scene, with outfits thrown everywhere, his hair was still wet from the shower.  

---

Felix: I'm so nervous, my stomach hurts

Jisung: It's a good nervous though? 

Hyunjin: You can do it, Lix

Changbin: REMEMBER. SHOW HER THE VEINS. 

Felix: OMG 

Chan: Don't worry, she likes you. You like her. It'll be OK!

Seungmin: Just be yourself, make her laugh. 

Jeongin: If you're nervous, just sit there and look pretty 🤷‍♂️

Jisung: NOOOO HE NEEDS TO DO BOTH. LOOK PRETTY AND BE CHARMING.

Felix : I’M SWEATING. I’M ACTUALLY SWEATING.

Hyunjin: GO WASH YOUR FACE RN. AND FIX YOUR HAIR.

Felix: I LOOK LIKE A DROWNED RAT.  

Minho: Great. You're ready.   

Felix: I AM GONNA THROW UP.

---

But he does go and get you some flowers and meet you at the entrance to your building. He was fidgeting, checking his reflection in his phone camera for the 100th time when you walked out.

Felix froze for a second because you looked like a dream. And for once Felix felt like the universe did love him. Because it gave him you. 

You grinned and held your hand out.

“Hey, Felix.” you said, and Felix quickly shook your hand, before giving you the flowers. 

“Thank you,” You said, and his entire brain short-circuited.

He was so fucked.

---

Felix: WE SHOOK HANDS. I’M DEAD. BURY ME.

Jisung: A HANDSHAKE??? YOU FORMAL ASS IDIOT. 

Changbin: BRO YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO HUG HER NOT INTERVIEW HER. 

Felix: I’M IN LOVE.  

Hyunjin: OMG DON’T BE A SIMP. 

Minho: TOO LATE. 

---

The date was perfect.  Felix had never been this happy in his entire life. You were amazing - you laughed at his jokes, teased him mercilessly, and your eyes? It was on him the whole time. 

Felix was literally in heaven. 

You even let him walk you home.  Stood side by side in the elevator, unable to hide the smiles on your faces.  And then you stopped at your door and glanced at him, eyes sparkling with something mischievous.  

“Maybe next time,” you mused with a smile, “I’ll invite you in.”

Felix nodded dumbly - he would have nodded to anything you said to be honest - his entire body heating up. 

Next time. You said next time. You wanted a next time.

You laughed softly at how dazed he looked, and then leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. A little too close to his mouth. A soft lingering kiss. 

And when you pulled back a little bit, Felix chased your lips with his - it was almost involuntary, like he had no choice but to close the small gap.  

And then his lips caught yours in the most perfect kiss of his life. Just long enough to drive him insane, but not long enough to satisfy the absolute hunger suddenly roaring inside of him.

When you pulled away, your breath fanned against his lips and your eyes flickered with mischief. You were both grinning like idiots, blushing so hard.   

You bit your lip, taking a step back and whispered, “Good night, Felix.”

He barely managed a choked, “Good night,” before you disappeared into your apartment. 

The second your door clicked shut, Felix sprinted.

---

Hyunjin: WHERE TF IS HE.  

Jisung: DID SHE KILL HIM? 

Changbin: FELIX ANSWER US RIGHT NOW.  

Minho: I'm so curious

Chan: OMG LET HIM BREATHE!

Jeongin: I BET HE'S HAVING THE TIME OF HIS LIFE.

Seungmin: He's probably just walking home. 

Hyunjin: WELL HE CAN TEXT AND WALK. 

Jisung: WHAT IF HE PASSED OUT. LIXIE!! 

---

Felix stumbled into his apartment, collapsed onto his bed, and with trembling hands, grabbed his phone.  

---

Felix: GUYS. 

Jisung: HOLY FUCK HE’S ALIVE.  

Hyunjin: REPORT. IMMEDIATELY.  

Changbin: Spill. 

Felix: IT WAS AMAZING. WE KISSED. SHE SAID WANTED A NEXT TIME. WITH ME. OMG. 

Chan: Go Felix!! 

Minho: Details. Now. 

Jeongin: We need a play-by-play.

Felix: She kissed me on the cheek first. But then, I kinda kissed her on the lips.

Felix: It was so soft and sweet

Felix: Wait. WHY AM I TELLING YOU THIS.  

Changbin: Because we are your emotional support animals.

Jisung: You what. 

Hyunjin: You chased her lips didn't you? 

Felix: HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW THAT?!

Chan: How are you so weirdly accurate all the damn time Hyunjin?! 

Hyunjin: It's a talent Christopher 😎

Minho: You're ignoring the fact that your little boy chased her lips like a starving animal. 

Felix: I DIDN’T MEAN TO! IT JUST HAPPENED.

Seungmin: OUR BOY IS HUNGRY. 

Chan: Felix, do you realize what this means? 

Felix: WHAT.

Minho: YOU’RE GONNA GET LAID.

Chan: NO NO! OH MY GOD! I MEANT YOU SHOULD INVITE HER TO MY WEDDING AS YOUR PLUS ONE! MINHO!! 

Felix: I AM GOING TO PASS OUT.

Felix: GOOD NIGHT. 

Jisung: Bro’s gonna have good dreams tonight.  

Hyunjin: Spicy ones for sure. 

Felix: LEAVE ME ALONE.

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world @hanadulsetaad

[arixella]

Caught in the Tide

╰┈➤ pairing: Ace x female! reader

a/n: hey guys ik its been a minute, Ive been doing a lot of school and extracurriculars so ive had no time to write, plus I also just got sick sooo yeah but im trying to become active again!

summary: When a casual friends-with-benefits arrangement between you and Ace deepens into something more, both of you are caught in the tide of intense desire and unexpected feelings, unsure of where it will lead.

wc: 2.9k

contains: suggestive with a lil extra spice 🌹

It had always been simple between you and Ace—no strings, no questions, no emotional attachment. You were both free spirits, wandering the seas, finding solace in the brief, fleeting moments you shared. It started one night, on the deck of the Moby Dick, where neither of you could deny the spark between you. One kiss turned into another, then another, until it became a regular occurrence—nothing serious, just physical. You'd both laugh it off afterward, acting like nothing changed. But things had begun to change, and Ace was the last to admit it.

"Hey," you said, sitting next to Ace by the rail one evening, the sun sinking beneath the horizon. You both had just come from one of those late-night rendezvous. It was always like this: you shared a quiet, intimate moment, and then moved on like it was nothing. But tonight, Ace was unusually quiet, his gaze fixed on the vast ocean.

You nudged him lightly. "You good?"

He blinked and looked at you, a small, almost apologetic smile pulling at his lips. "Yeah, just... thinking."

"About what?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ace scratched the back of his head, avoiding your gaze. "You know... nothing important."

You stared at him for a moment. The look on his face was different tonight, hesitant and distant. Something you hadn't seen before. It made you feel uneasy, like you were on the edge of something, but you couldn't tell what.

"Ace..." you started, your voice softer. "What's going on?"

He finally met your eyes, and for a brief moment, you saw it—the vulnerability in his gaze. It was almost like he was struggling with something, fighting with himself. "I don't know," he said, almost too quietly for you to hear. "Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about... us. About what this really is."

You blinked in surprise, leaning back slightly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Ace hesitated, scratching his jaw as though searching for the right words. "You’re not like the others. You know that, right?"

You frowned, the weight of his words sinking in. "What do you mean by that?"

Ace took a deep breath, looking down at his hands, unsure of how to express the shift in his feelings. "This... this thing between us—it was supposed to be casual, no emotions. But..." He trailed off, biting his lip. "But it's not like that for me anymore."

Your heart skipped a beat. It was one thing to hear someone admit they had feelings for you; it was another thing entirely when it was Ace.

"You don’t need to say anything," he quickly added, his voice laced with the familiar, playful tone. "I just—I’m not sure how to handle this. I’ve never been good at it." His usual cocky demeanor was slipping, and it left you speechless.

You stared at him for a moment, your mind racing. So, this was it—the moment things changed. The moment you both had been avoiding.

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, a gentle touch that made him pause. "Ace... I’m not sure how to handle it either."

He looked up at you, and this time, there was no playful smirk, no teasing remark. Just raw honesty.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he said, his voice softer than usual. "I don’t want this to complicate things between us. But... I think I’ve already made things complicated."

For a long time, there was nothing but the sound of the waves crashing against the ship, a steady reminder that the world was turning, whether or not you two were ready for it.

You took a deep breath, letting the moment stretch between you like a thread. Then you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want things to stay the same either."

Ace looked at you, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. You could see the uncertainty in his gaze, but there was something else too—a glimmer of hope.

Without saying another word, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his, feeling the warmth of his breath mix with yours. It was different this time. There was no rush, no fleeting moment. Just you and him, standing on the edge of something new.

When you pulled away, your forehead rested against his. "Maybe we’re both a little lost," you murmured.

Ace chuckled softly, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Maybe. But at least we're lost together."

The moment was charged, alive with unspoken words and emotions neither of you had fully acknowledged before. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Ace didn’t know what to expect, but he didn’t mind. He had no plans, no expectations. For once, it wasn’t about the next fight or the next adventure. It was about the present, about the warmth of your presence, and the realization that he wanted more of that. He wanted you.

"You know..." Ace broke the silence, his voice carrying the usual warmth but with an edge of vulnerability. "I never thought I’d get caught up like this. I’m not good with relationships. I’ve always thought it was better to keep things simple." He glanced at you, a faint smile playing on his lips. "But with you... it’s different. I can’t ignore it anymore."

You exhaled slowly, processing the depth of what he was saying. "I get it, Ace. I’ve never been good at it either. But... I think I’m starting to feel the same way."

The air between you and Ace was thick with unspoken words and raw desire. Every touch, every kiss seemed to ignite something deeper inside both of you, something that neither of you could hold back anymore. Ace��s hands were everywhere, moving over your skin with an urgency that matched your own. You were no longer just two people caught in a casual arrangement—you were two souls tangled together in a desperate need for more.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, his breath warm and ragged against your skin. "You’re driving me insane," Ace groaned, his voice low and filled with hunger. His hands slid down your body, pulling you even closer, the heat between you growing with every passing second.

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers threading through his messy hair as you pulled him back to your lips. "I think we both are," you whispered, your lips brushing against his. "I can’t stop thinking about you."

Ace’s eyes darkened with that familiar fire, his fingers tightening around your waist as if to pull you closer still. He pulled back slightly, his breathing shallow. "Are you sure? Because I don’t think I can stop either."

His words were a challenge, and you could feel the heat rising between you, a magnetic pull that you couldn’t deny. "Then don’t," you answered, your voice barely above a whisper, but with an intensity that made his pulse quicken.

Without another word, Ace captured your lips once more, this time with a fervor that matched the storm inside him. His hands roamed over your body, taking his time as he explored every curve, every inch of your skin as though he were trying to memorize it. You didn’t stop him. You didn’t want him to.

His lips trailed down your neck again, the sensation making you shiver. "I’ve never been this close to losing control," Ace muttered, his breath hot against your skin, his fingers moving to trace the edge of your shirt. "I’ve never felt like this before... with anyone."

You could feel his hands trembling as they slid under your shirt, caressing your back, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "Then don’t fight it," you whispered, your voice thick with desire, a challenge of your own. "Let go."

It was all the invitation he needed.

Ace’s lips found your collarbone, his mouth pressing against your skin in a series of heated kisses that made your heart race. His hands slid lower, expertly undressing you piece by piece, as if every layer of clothing was a barrier he couldn’t wait to tear down. And you welcomed it. You welcomed him.

When your shirt finally came off, Ace didn’t hesitate. His hands found your chest, his touch rough but gentle in the same breath, his eyes never leaving yours as if searching for any sign of hesitation. But you weren’t about to pull away. You wanted this. You wanted him.

He groaned low in his throat, his fingers grazing over your sensitive skin, making you arch into him, craving more. "Damn," he muttered, his lips trailing down to your chest. "You don’t know what you do to me."

You gasped as his lips found a sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his hands now roaming freely, memorizing every inch of you. "Ace..." you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as his mouth moved lower, his kisses growing hungrier, more urgent. "Please…"

Ace paused for a moment, looking up at you with an intensity that took your breath away. His hands were on your thighs now, fingers sliding up your legs, sending shivers down your spine. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly, his breath heavy with desire.

You bit your lip, trying to regain some composure, but the tension in your body was overwhelming. "You," you said simply, your hands pulling him closer, urging him on.

The moment those words left your lips, Ace’s restraint snapped. He pulled you toward him, his lips finding yours once again, this kiss fiercer than before, driven by pure, unrelenting need. There was no teasing now, no hesitations. Just the overwhelming urge to lose yourself in each other.

His hands moved swiftly, undressing you completely, and in return, you did the same, your fingers trembling as you pulled off his shirt and pants, revealing the toned body you had seen only in passing but never truly had the chance to admire up close. Now, with him inches away from you, your hands roamed over his chest, your breath catching in your throat at the feeling of his hard muscles beneath your touch.

With a growl of frustration and desire, Ace finally took control, his lips trailing down to your chest, his tongue flicking over your sensitive skin, drawing a moan from your lips. You couldn’t hold back anymore—every touch, every kiss was driving you wild, and you knew you were on the edge of losing yourself completely.

"Ace... please," you whimpered, your hands pulling at his hair, urging him on.

He responded with a hunger that matched your own, pushing you back against the railing of the ship, the cool night air suddenly feeling like a distant memory as his body pressed against yours. Every inch of your skin seemed to hum in response to his touch, your body alive with sensation.

"I need you," Ace murmured, his lips moving against your neck as his hands slid down your body, pulling your legs around his waist. "I want to feel all of you."

And as he finally slid into you, both of you gasped at the sensation—the slow, deliberate stretch, the overwhelming feeling of being connected in a way neither of you had ever felt before. It was more than just physical. It was a raw, unfiltered connection. A promise, perhaps, that nothing would ever be the same again.

As the night wore on, you and Ace gave in to each other completely, no longer fighting the attraction that had been building for so long. The waves crashed beneath you, the ship rocking in time with your bodies, as you both found your release in the most intense way.

When it was over, you lay together, breathing heavily, tangled in each other’s arms. The world seemed to stop, the weight of what had just happened settling over you both.

Ace kissed your forehead gently, his hand caressing your back as he pulled you closer. "So, now what?" he asked quietly, his voice softer, his earlier intensity still lingering in the air.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I guess we’ll figure that out together."

He chuckled, his fingers gently tracing circles on your skin. "Yeah, I guess we will."

♡♡♡

© 2025 arixella | please do not plagiarize or translate any of my work without my consent.

[wardenparker]

The Unbearable Weight of Perfection, ch 1

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When an accident of fate throws Javi G into the path of his soulmate, his instinct is to dive in head first. Adjusting to life as the fated partner of someone you barely know is going to be harder than either of you suspect, but anything worth having is worth working for. Isn't it?

(This story is heavily inspired by the lovely house museums that I work in every day and the fantastic few months that HBO was using our houses to film a TV show in fall! I spent each day on that set in wonder and I can't wait to share the experience with all of you through this story.)

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 7.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, references to abusive family members -- i.e. Lucas.* Fluff, sweetness, flirting, crushes, reader's meddling bestie. Summary: Waking up beside your soulmate the morning after your wedding, you reflect on the meetings that brought you here. Notes: Welcome to a new story, friends! We're using date stamps as we tell this story, as scenes may appear out of chronological order. Enjoy!

Saturday, April 6, 2024

Normally waking up is hard for Javi. Too used to having his own schedule, late nights and lazy mornings. Things have changed over the past few years, the loss of his family fortune and business. Not that he minded no longer being the face of an arms dealer family, even if he wasn’t the one selling the weapons. That was his now incarcerated cousin, Lucas’s doing.

No, now waking up meant an alarm instead of the fragrant smell coffee being brought by a servant, he had to get up and make it himself if he wants.

This morning, this morning his eyes are open before the sun even thinks about peeking over the horizon. The early morning lighting up gradually as he watches your face, so peaceful in sleep. His soulmate. His wife.

Sunrise isn't normally your wakeup call. The mornings are always an early start for you because you like to get as much out of your day as you possibly can. It's been so many years of it now that you even wake up early on the weekends – but not today.

A rare morning of sleeping in means that the bright sun streaming through the windows penetrates your sleep to warm your dreams and drift you closer to reality. Although really, the thing that wakes you is the shifting of the mattress. The last time you shared a bed with anyone before last night was...a year ago? More?

But when you open your eyes, knowing it's your soulmate next to you is so exhilarating.

“Good morning.” Javi’s smile is bright, radiant like the sun as he reaches out and caresses your cheek. “How did you sleep? I think I only slept for two hours but it was the best two hours of my life.”

"Good morning." Like a magnet, you slide towards him on the mattress to tuck yourself into his side. "It's a whole new day. What did you want to do with it?" Neither of you have to work, so it's just...going to be beautiful all on its own.

“I should treat you today, no?” He asks with a grin. “It is technically our honeymoon?” The ring on your finger is just barely ten hours old, the excitement of that fact still humming through his system and coming off as nervous energy.

"We've got a whole weekend to do whatever we want." Honeymoon. It's your honeymoon. The last twenty-four hours have been a complete whirlwind. This time yesterday you were already at work. "I feel silly asking but...what do you like to do for fun?"

“Watching movies.” Javi admits shamelessly, although he no longer has the movie theatre he once did. “What is your favorite movie?”

"Oh gosh, that's such a hard question." Shamelessly happy that you can do so, you lay a kiss on his shoulder and gaze up at him.

Your soulmate is so fucking handsome. How did you get so lucky?

"Maybe..." You laugh at how ridiculously hard it is to choose. "I think I have more like a top three. And they rotate depending on what kind of mood I'm in. But one of the top three is always The Princess Bride."

“That is a good one.” He grins, happy that you seem to light up and have a hard time choosing. “I always liked Wesley.” He admits shamelessly and winks at you. “As you wish.”

"Hush." Even though you nudge him a little, your warm cheeks have nothing to do with the morning sun. It's all mixed in with the dreamy expression on your face as you talk with him. Your husband. Your soulmate. "What's your favourite movie?"

“You must promise not to laugh.” He tells you seriously, although there is humor twinkling in the depths of his dark eyes as he gazes into your hauntingly beautiful ones. “Paddington 2.” He admits, his tone flat and honest.

“Why would I laugh? That’s such a sweet movie!” Daring to reach up to brush a curl out of his eyes, you end up smiling all over again. “I…actually really love watching kids’ movies. They’re great for comfort and cheering me up when I don’t feel too good.”

“They teach us lessons we could all use.” He agrees, capturing your hand and kissing the back of it. “We can watch them together. Snuggled up.”

“That sounds perfect.” Practically everything he suggests sounds perfect, and it’s not just the gorgeous purr of his accent. “It can be a sweet way of unwinding at night.”

“You would not mind?” He asks, brows raised and a hopefully look on his face. “I wish I had my old movie theatre, but we can turn the second bedroom into a viewing room?”

"You..." Confusion makes your eyebrows draw in. "Used to have your own movie theater?"

He tilts his head. “Of course.” He nods. “I will have to build one again. It will not be as big as the one in Spain, but the house will be much smaller too.” He sighs softly, feeling a little bit like a failure for not being able to give you the things he once had. Before he ever knew you carried his marks. “But maybe one day, no?”

"If it will make you happy, then we will absolutely do that." There are plenty of things that you don't know about each other yet, but you have every confidence that you'll be able to settle into things together well. You're soulmates, after all. You're meant to be together. "I just...I've never known anyone who had their own movie theater before. That sounds so fancy."

“It was a large house.” He admits, frowning slightly. He loved the house, hated the bad memories of some of the things that happened there. Although it was never all bad. “You know, Nic Cage came to my birthday party there?” He asks. “It’s how we met.”

"Is it really?" He had told you that they were friends -- hell, the Cages had come to your wedding last night -- but it was still something that you were wrapping your head around.

“Yes.” He chuckles. “I paid him one million dollars to come to my birthday, and somehow, we became friends.”

Your eyes widen, catching on a breath of disbelief. "So that's how you get a movie star to come to your birthday? Color me impressed."

He hums. “Back then, yes.” He admits, leaning in and kissing your shoulder gently. “Now, they are starting to want to come on their own. Not because I pay them.” He doesn’t have the money to do that anymore.

"You're an amazing writer. I'm sure you're just at the start of something really grand." The two movies he has had made so far have both been fantastic. You went home and watched them back-to-back after the first time he told you he was a screenwriter. "I consider myself very lucky that I'll get to be beside you during all of it."

“Really?” His eyes widen, as if he had never really considered that you would be happy to have him as your soulmate. “You want to be beside me?”

It almost makes you laugh, but the wonder on his face is so genuinely sweet that it sort of comes out as a sound of disbelief. "Of course," you promise him, and take his hand to hold both his and your left hands in his view. The hands bearing your brand new wedding rings. "That's what this means."

“Married.” The word is whispered, almost reverently, as if he is still in disbelief that it was ever possible. For him, it had started to look that way. He had loved Gabriella and had been determined to be a good partner no matter if they had not shared marks, but she had left him. He had floundered slightly, bemoaning love and at the encouragement of Nic to start working on his next screen play, he had stumbled upon the soulmate he had always yearned for.

******

Tuesday, February 14, 2023 Valentine's Day

The slowest pay of the week for the museum seems punctuated with particularly melancholy moments today. There was a private tour this morning with a proposal, and the squealing bride-and-groom-to-be had been allowed to take photos together on the grand staircase before regular visitors began arriving for the day. Their family and friends had been hiding in the house, waiting for the moment, all ready to burst out and shout with joy after the question was asked and answered. It had left you with a migraine.

Another lover had popped their question to her beloved out in the gardens while you were trying to get some fresh air on your short morning break. You'd fled back to the breakroom and hung your head in your hands for the rest of your fifteen minutes of quiet.

Now, in the middle of the afternoon, there are so many couples on dates strolling through the halls of Hazelwood House that it felt like an intentional taunt. Being fresh off a breakup at Valentine's Day is no one's idea of a good time. So you just pace your area, walking through the three rooms of the house museum that are under your care for this hour, and hope that the floor just opens up to swallow you whole.

Which is how you accidentally walked straight into a guest.

"Oh! Excuse me! I'm so sorry, that was entirely my fault."

Javi Gutierrez manages to keep himself from stumbling but immediately reaches out to steady you. “No, no, I was wandering around.” He shakes his head, ready to take the blame himself as his eyes meet yours and he swears that his heart skips a beat. He straightens slightly, still holding your arms. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, as if you had been injured by the minor collision.

"I'm totally fine." Shaken, sure, but only because of your own clumsiness and the fact that you just had to bump into the hottest guy you've ever seen in your entire life. "I—I'm sorry." Come on, get it together. "I was distracted." Lie, for fuck's sake. "I just noticed a little detail in the flooring that I had never seen before."

“The floor?” Javi frowns as he looks down at the intricate tiles beneath both of your feet. “What about the floor?” He asks curiously, wondering if it is something special.

"Well..." It's nerdy. It's so nerdy. But there actually is something special about the mosaic tile in this particular room of the house. "The billiard room is covered in mosaic, but I've never paid much attention to the grain of the marble before." An utter lie, you stare at it every day. "Do you see the swirls of blue and gray here? It's the same marble as the fireplace."

Instead of looking at you like you are crazy, Javi squats down and brushes his fingers over the glazed tiles, staring at the colorful patterns for a long moment, memorizing them. Then he lifts his head to stare at the fireplace. “So they tiled the mosaic with marble instead of regular tiles?” He asks, trying to follow.

"It looks like it." He gets excited easily, this incredibly handsome man, and it relaxes you a little. Guests who get excited about little details are one of the things you love most about working in a museum. "Now I'm thinking about taking a photo of the different colors and comparing them to the other fireplaces in the house."

“Can you backtrack through the house?” He looks around worried for a moment and then back at you. “The guides won’t get mad?”

"You're only a few rooms in, I can walk you back to the first fireplace if you'd like?" That would be the breakfast room, which is an easy stroll backward from where you are now and you point it out to him on the map that is printed on the packet of information in his hand. It seems he opted not to download the audio tour as so many do.

He tilts his head, contemplating it seriously. “Then we should do it, no?” He asks. “See if it matches? It should, or no? Maybe it depends on the style of the room?”

"Let's find out, if you're curious. We can check the three fireplaces in this section of the house and you can compare the pictures you take here to the others as you keep moving through the house." You would walk with him, guide him yourself, because it's just so nice to stumble upon someone nice and not on a date today...but abandoning your area of the house would get you in a hell of a lot of trouble.

“Okay.” He smiles at you and wonders if you are waiting for your partner to arrive. It’s Valentine’s Day after all and he had thought to distract himself with work. “The house is very, um, nice.” He says as you start to steer him back towards the other rooms. Small talk can be awkward and he’s not as good as it as he would like at times. Nervous about making a negative impression.

"The whole place is gorgeous." The grounds are a popular tourist attraction, with plenty of weddings and other parties happening on the grounds in addition to the mansion being a museum. "Have you ever visited Hazelwood Park before?"

“This is my first time.” Javi confesses. “I have heard of it, but woke up this morning and decided today was the day.” He had honestly figured there wouldn’t be a lot of couples here. He had been wrong.

"Well, welcome." Back in the breakfast room, you turn to face the soft green marble fireplace. "This does look like the same green of the turtle in the mosaic," you admit. The shades are remarkably similar.

“So they matched the edging of this floor to the fireplace.” The entire floor isn’t a mosaic, but the banding around the edges is. “This fireplace is larger.” He tilts his head. “Perhaps they did not have enough of the leftovers to use, hm?”

"If they only used the pieces that were considered scrap during the carving of the fireplaces, then it would make sense that they wouldn’t have any large pieces." The thin tile line around the otherwise parquet flooring has always charmed you unexpectedly. You had never seen anything like it before.

“It is a good way to use up all the materials.” He agrees. “Because I’m assuming the marble was imported?” It’s nothing he’s ever considered before but your enthusiasm for the details excites him.

"Oh yes, absolutely." In fact, you had had to memorize where all of it came from as part of your knowledge test to be a full-fledged docent. "This particular stone comes from Italy."

“You know a lot about this.” He smiles. “Is the house a favorite place to visit for you?”

"Oh!" You break out into a nervous laugh and realize that this entire time, the nametag and lapel pin that you wear on your cardigan marking you as an employee haven't been visible. "No, I--I work here. I've been here about a year now."

“Oh…oh I am sorry.” He bites his lip as he tries to hide the embarrassed grin. “I didn’t realize. I thought you were just an enthusiast.”

"Being an enthusiast is sort of how I got the job," you admit. Shrugging your shoulders, you straighten out your cardigan again and do up one button to make sure both pins stay visible. "It turns out that I really love it. Beyond just thinking the place is beautiful."

“That explains your comment about this section of the house.” He chuckles, wiping his hands on his pants and shoving them in his pockets. “I had assumed you were waiting on someone. Now I know that’s it’s other tour groups.

"Have to stay in my section." A light, awkward laugh travels between you but even that little sound from him sounds angelic. "But if you like these first few rooms, then you'll love the rest of the house."

“Which is your favorite room?” He asks, looking down at his map.

"Today?" You laugh a little, emboldened by the way he seems to smile with his whole face. Like he really doesn't mind talking to you. Like he might even enjoy it. "I love them all, but I think the library might be the best part of the whole house."

“Do you like to read?” He asks, charmed by your laugh and the way you seem to light up at the question. As if you aren’t normally asked a personal question. “The library was always where I was chided, but then it was also where I could escape into different worlds when I couldn’t do other things.”

"That's the beauty of books." Something you believe unabashedly. Stories are an escape -- whether that is books or movies or plays, or whatever else. "Being able to run away into a different world is powerful. It's freeing." Warmth creeps up your neck and into your cheeks and you nearly feel embarrassed for getting so excited about it except that he's still smiling. "The library in this house? I would curl up in front of that fireplace with a stack of books beside me on the chaise lounge and one of those little table all covered in the blue China from the butler's pantry and a whole plate of scones. I would just stay there all day and night."

“That sounds perfect.” He hums. “With the fire built up?”

“Oh, of course.” The scenario has played out in your head a thousand times, and one day you might just have to go antiquing for your own chaise so you can fulfill it. Of course…you’ll also need a home legitimate enough to have a fireplace. Not your shitty little studio apartment.

“Storm beating against the windows?” It would be a miracle in California, but he could imagine it in the setting of his latest screenplay. “Or snow?”

"Oh, it's been years since I saw a good snowstorm. I used to hate them, but I sort of miss it."

“I have not ever lived somewhere where there was snow.” He admits with a small shrug. “It is beautiful in pictures but I do not think it would be fun to have every day.”

"Oh, it's definitely not." Not even a little, and your immediate answer elicits laughs from both of you. "My favorite was when I was going to college in Boston and the college dug out our sidewalks for us. All the beauty of snow with none of the work."

“That is probably the best way to have the snow.” He admits with a laugh.

"Well..." Realizing you've probably monopolized enough of this extremely handsome, extremely charming man's time, you offer him a smile and try to smother the butterflies accumulating in the pit of your stomach. He has the most beautiful, soulful eyes you've ever seen. "Enjoy the rest of the museum. Take an extra look at the library when you pass through the south wing and you'll see what I mean about it being comfy."

He’s entirely disappointed to realize that he’s being dismissed. Enjoying the way you banter with him, he wishes he could ask you to give him the tour of the entire house so he could continue talking. Feeling more at ease with you than he has with anyone ever. “Thank you.” He hums softly. “I hope you have a wonderful day, full of beauty.”

"You too." You flounder for a few seconds, but you know you'll get in trouble if your supervisor sees you on the surveillance cameras talking to the same guest for too long, so you gently extract yourself to stroll as casually as possible back into the corner of the great hall that is included in your area of the house right now.

Javi watches you walk off and he sighs before he looks down at the map and pulls out his phone to take pictures of the rooms. Your attention to detail will have to be included in the film.

******

Saturday, December 23, 2023

It's the Christmas season the next time you see him, when the house is all done up in twinkling lights and wreaths with trimmed trees in almost every room. Bowls of chestnuts and pine cones and cherries replace the usual decorative hazelnuts and oranges. Pine boughs and poinsettias instead of big, beautiful flower arrangements. It's a nice change of pace, honestly, and on the weekends guests can buy tickets to the after-hours light display on the grounds. Out in the garden there are even refreshments and music plays from the trees that drip with even more lights.

Javier tucks into his light jacket. It’s not completely necessary, but it helps the spirit of the season. The lights are beautiful and he��s heard that the decorations are truly a sight to see.

The music outside just reminds you of the years that you worked in retail -- repetitive and sickly sweet Christmas songs pouring through speakers, but you dole out cups of cocoa and coffee at one of the refreshment tables outside with good enough spirits. There's bits of broken cookie to sneak every now and then, and the little gingerbread men are tasty morsels when you and the other docent working at the table can grab them.

“You were right about the library.” He hadn’t been looking for you. At least that’s what he tells himself, although he lights up for some reason when he recognizes you. “It’s perfect for a cozy day reading.”

"You..." It takes all you've got not to grab your friend's hand beside you, as the specter of the random guest you've had a crush on for almost a year materializes in front of you. "You remembered?" The full sentence is 'You remembered me?' but you don't say that.

He grins bashfully as he steps up to the table and looks down at the cookies and paper cups, trying to keep from staring at how pretty you are. Javi’s been around gorgeous women, but there’s something about the naked honest in your eyes that makes him feel almost feverish. “Of course I did.” He chuckles. “I went back through to find you that day, but you must have already gone home.”

“We move around the house every hour. To keep on our toes and so we don’t stare at the same set of walls the whole day.” Did he get even more attractive since last time? That would be so unfair. Criminally unfair, actually. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it. Enough to come back, even.”

“I had to see it during Christmas.” It also got him out of the tiny cottage he lives in. Around other people. Hopefully to distract from the loneliness of the holiday. “I don’t know if this might not be the best look for this place. Although I see it with candles lit all around.”

“It’s perfect in spring,” you tell him all too quickly, and end up flustering yourself so you have to tear your eyes away from his to look down at the grounds gather your damn wits back. “I mean…in early spring is when all the orange and hazelnut trees blossom. That’s how the property got its name. Hazelwood Park.”

“Is that so? I will have to check it out.” He looks suitably impressed and then motions to the table. “So, um, how much for a cookie and a cup of coffee?” He asks, not sure what else to say, but wanting to continue the conversation.

"Oh, they're free for guests. Help yourself." Your coworker offers helpfully, seeing you fluster and thoroughly enjoying the level of teasing that is going to happen after work tonight. "Why don't you take your break while we have a lull?" She suggests, practically batting her eyelashes with glee over the suggestion.

"Thanks, Moira," you hum with a tone that suggests you're going to kill her later. Then again? She has a point. These days that there are special events at work can be long. You've been on your feet for hours.

Javi is disappointed, sure that you will disappear on him since you have a chance to get off your feet and possibly get something to eat or drink yourself. “Oh, um, okay.” He takes a cup of be coffee and a cookie. “Thanks.”

"Make sure to show him your bench!" Moira suggests, far too loudly and excitedly to not be obvious, as she thrusts a cup of cocoa and a gingerbread man into your hands.

“Your bench?” He could kiss your friend for giving him something to grasp on to in order to keep the conversation going. “What is your bench?”

"It's...it's over on the west side of the property." You gesture to the left of were you're both standing and try to suppress the giddy and awkward shivers running up and down your spine. "Do you...would you want to walk?"

“Are you sure you want to?” He asks seriously, happy about spending time with you but it’s your break. “You don’t want to rest?”

"Benches are made for resting." Now that the chance has presented itself, you would actually be pretty bummed to miss out on the chance to chat with him again. And, in all honesty, you're pretty sure it's not your break at all. Moira just threw you out of the nest like a mama bird.

“Okay.” He agree to that easily and shifts to move the cookie into the same hand as his coffee to offer you his arm. “Lead the way.”

The chivalrous gesture damn near makes your knees buckle, and you follow suit. Shifting your snack into one hand lets you take his arm to lead him toward the ocean. "It's just...where I like to come sit." Of course it is. You groan at yourself internally. What else would you do at a bench but sit? "I take my lunch out here sometimes and things like that."

“So it’s your special place.” He likes the sound of that. Showing him something that you might not show every guest.

"I suppose you could say that." It's only a touch chilly tonight and the breeze coming off the ocean is welcoming. "It's a nice place to sit and think. To just watch the ocean and...dream."

“Hopefully the dreams are nice ones.” He offers, wondering what you might dream about. “Having a quiet place to think is always a good thing. I used to sit out at the cliffs and dream, plot, plan.”

"Cliffs?" Hazelwood Park is more or less on a cliffside, and you motion out toward the ocean again. "Like this one?"

“A little larger than this one.” He smiles as he thinks back to jumping off the cliff with Nic. “Mallorca has cliffs that go hundreds of meters in the air.” He tells you. “Some so steep you would be terrified to slip off the edge.”

“Mallorca?” Spanish. Damn. They really do make hotter men in Europe. “I’ve heard it’s beautiful there. You…traded one beautiful place to live for another?”

He shrugs slightly. “Hard to write movies anywhere else but Hollywood, no?”

“Hard, but not impossible.”

So there it is. Even the screenwriters in Hollywood are sexy. Maybe you should be grateful to live so close by, then? Southern California does have some fun things that back home didn’t. Rather than fawn over him — that’s never been your style — you just smile. “So you like libraries and you’re a writer. Stories run through your veins.”

“I would live in them if I could.” He admits wistfully. The little bench is drawing closer and he can see from the view from this point why you would like it. It’s a stunning place to look out over the water. The wind just a touch brisk as it ruffles his hair. The smell of the saltwater taking over.

“Me too.” And for reasons you can’t quite discern, you just keep talking. “That’s why I like history so much. It’s all just stories. Especially in big houses like this. Somebody’s whole life — their whole story — is wrapped up in that house.”

“And do you sometimes pretend you are the lady of the house?” He asks, imagining you in the skirts from that time.

"It would be sort of a shame to dream about the place and not dream the grand, elegant things. Wouldn't it?" When you reach the bench together, he seems to set you down first, letting you settle, and then sits beside you. "I think it's romantic. Curtis Hollingsworth built the place as a birthday gift for his wife. They were outgrowing their home because they were pregnant again, and he'd made millions helping to turn Santa Barbara into a spa town." The soft smile on your face is whimsical, but you can't help it. "Apparently, she loved oranges and hazelnuts. Which is why the trees are everywhere."

“He brought those to her.” He looks out over the water and takes a sip of the rich coffee. At least they had served a strong brew instead of something heartbreakingly weak. “To build a house for someone you love is a perfect way to show it.” He frowns slightly, remembering that he has a building site that was halted before the foundation was ever poured.

“It’s certainly a grand gesture.” Something in his tone and manner makes you hesitate, but you don’t know this man nearly well enough to ask a single personal question so you try to just press past it. “Of course, grand gestures aren’t the only way of showing love. Not by any means. But they do make wonderful stories.”

“Sometimes it’s just listening.” He agrees, thinking about how things between him and Gabriella had turned after moving to L.A. two years ago. She had been uninterested in the future he envisions and started working towards. Stopped talking to him about anything that wasn’t part of her own interests. He had tried to course correct, but it had ultimately not meant to be.

“I couldn’t agree more.” This time you do chance to look at him — sharp jaw and soft cheeks outlined against the night sky like a fully grown cherub, golden brown curls neatly and artfully tousled and waving in the breeze. He looks like a Romantic painting. “Lots of people talk about communication but not enough realize listening is included in that.”

His eyes find yours again, seeing the softness and understanding swimming in their depths and he feels like bearing his soul to you. “Is it probably the most important part.” He admits. “The world would be better if people understood that.”

“Again…” you swallow hard, feeling your mouth has run dry and chest fairly ripped open with the feeling of familiarity. “I couldn’t agree more.”

The silence falls between you. It’s not unpleasant, it’s almost hesitant. As if both of you are afraid of disturbing the uncluttered beauty of the moment as the waves crash against the coast at the wind batters playfully against your cheeks. Javi breaks off a piece of the cookie and dips it onto the coffee.

“You chose a beautiful night to come visit.” It’s clear and typically warm despite the ocean breeze, and even in the end of December, Southern California is a beautiful place to be. He could have gone to any of a thousand places but he chose to come here, and a small voice in the back of your head wonders — hopes — that maybe you had a part in making this place happy for him.

“I was compelled to come back.” He admits softly, looking over at you for a moment before breaking off the gaze to look out at the sea again.

“The house is like that.” When he looks away, you do too. “It draws people in.”

It’s not the house, but it would sound crazy to say that he wanted to see you again. Instead he hums. “I don’t think it’s just the house.”

“Well…” If you wanted to take that to heart, you feel like you could. It wouldn’t be difficult to give yourself that little bit of hope. But despite being easy, it would probably be very foolish. “I hope it helps you miss home a little less to sit on these cliffs, instead.”

“I think it does.” He takes the bite of the cookie and groans happily. “These are good.”

“Gingerbread is highly underrated,” you agree, and take a bite of your own after dipping it into your cup of cocoa. “I get why they’re seasonal but I wish I could find them so easily all year long.”

“Yes.” He agrees. “They would be good anytime.”

“What’s your favourite kind of cookie?” The question is innocuous enough, but you find yourself curious anyway. Curious to know about anything he feels like telling you.

He chuckles and lifts a shoulder innocently. “A good chocolate chip cookie is always a comfort.” He admits. “Sometimes the simple things are the best.” He twists his head and looks over to you. “What is yours?”

“Have you ever heard of a hermit cookie?” You ask, raising an eyebrow, and grinning in amusement when he looks confused. “It’s a soft, spice cookie. Like gingerbread. Sometimes with raisins and nuts in it. They’re a bit old fashioned, but wonderful with coffee.”

“They sound like I should try some.” He would try anything you recommend right now, a fact that should scare him but it doesn’t. “How old are the cookies?” He asks, thinking about his screenplay.

“They’re from the 1880s or 90s, I think?” It does not escape your amusement or notice that this is the same time that the house you work in was built. “I don’t know if they’ve ever been popular outside of New England, but we do love them there.”

He hums and takes note of that. Deciding he will research it. “Hermit cookies.” He repeats. “Are there recipes for this? Online?”

"Probably." His entire attention has now focused in on this just because you said it was your favorite cookie and that makes you smile in a way you can't quite explain.

“Then I will have to look it up.” He smiles as he takes another sip of his coffee. “I like researching things. It is very interesting. Like your marble mosaic tiles.”

"You researched the tiles?" It's the sort of thing that you would only think of you or your coworkers doing, but hearing that he has enjoyed his time in the house -- and possibly with you -- so much warms your heart.

“It was interesting to learn how they chose the marbles.” He nods. “I never imagined a trip to Europe to pick out building materials.”

"It's a heck of a reason for a vacation," you agree, laughing slightly at the opulence of it all.

“Yes. And trips would take months.” He chuckles.

"I can't even imagine." To take a vacation at all would be a miracle. But one that was months long? It sounds positively absurd to your ear.

“Do you think they ever got bored?” He asks curiously. “Or tired of being away from home?”

"I have to imagine that they did." It's a question you've thought on more than you want to admit, but the stories in your head are always about everyday things. Wondering what the mundane things were like. "If I had a home like this I can't imagine ever wanting to be away from it. But I suppose the right person can make anything worthwhile."

“Were they soulmates?” He asks softly, having avoided the personal backgrounds of the homeowners when taking the tour. He had tried to keep his own characters in mind.

“They were. And when they left the house to their daughter, she married her soulmate here. And then her daughter married her soulmate here, as well. The house has a history of lifelong loves.”

“That is nice.” His tone is wistful. “I don’t know if I will ever meet my soulmate.” Javi confides, normally keeping that information to himself but he blurts it out. “I worry about it sometimes.”

“I don’t know a single person who hasn’t worried about it at some point.” Even your sister, who said she didn’t mind not marrying her soulmate as long as the woman she found was a loving partner, had been thoroughly overjoyed when she had found her now wife on Mate Marks. Everyone thinks about it — worries about it — even if they don’t want to admit it. “I wouldn’t worry, if I were you.” You offer him a smile, knowing you’ve gone over your fifteen minutes for your break and not wanting to be caught flirting with a guest on company time. “Whoever you do find is going to be very lucky to have you.”

He smiles again. “Have you found yours?” He figures you probably have, you are beautiful and captivating.

"Not yet." Even though you'd rather not, you stand from the bench. "I don't know if I ever will. Only time will tell."

“I know you have to go back to work.” Javi leaps off the bench and shuffles, wishing he could ask you to stay. “Thank you for showing me this place.” He bites his lip. “Uh, can I walk you back?”

The warmth rushes back to your cheeks, and you practically squirm with delight. "Thank you. I'd like that."

He offers his arm again, taking your empty hot cocoa cup from you to hold with his own trash. “Imagine the parties they used to hold here.” He breathes out as the two of you turn back towards the house.

"We're setting up an exhibit with some of the gowns. It's meant to open in about six weeks." You light up with that fact, excited to see all the swishing gowns and glimmering jewels for yourself. "Descendents of the family donated a large collection of clothing, shoes, and jewelry to the museum this part year."

“Wow.” He chuckles, thinking about the parties he would throw when he was pretending to be an olive oil exporter. He’s much happier being a screen writer, even if he can’t afford those parties and bought friends anymore. “That was generous of them.”

"They say the most spectacular pieces are still privately owned by the family, but the things I've seen so far have been absolutely gorgeous." If you're a little dreamy-eyed at the prospect, he doesn't seem to mind.

“It sounds like you would have loved to live during that time.” He smiles, knowing that he will have to insist the movie be filmed here.

"I'm probably overly romanticizing it," you admit. But the tent is in view already and you hate the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that wonders if he'll ever come back again. "I hope—" Biting back what you really hope, you go for a polite encouragement instead, "That the things you've found in your research have given you plenty to think about. And maybe romanticized it for you, too."

“It has.” Even if you have no interest in him, you’ve given him a focal point for his movie. “Thank you. This is a magical place.”

"Then I hope you'll come back again." At least in that you can be honest. There is nothing you would like more than to see him again.

“Really?” He’s surprised by your comment. Unless you are just being polite.

"Really." You promise him, but at the edge of the refreshments tent, you have to let his arm go.

He’s disappointed by the loss of your fingers on his jacket. “Well. I hope the rest of your night is magical.” He offers, bowing slightly and smiling at you.

"I can all but guarantee it now." One more smile. One more lingering, dopey smile, and you know you have to tear yourself away. "Have a good night..." Oh no. Have you really gone and sat and flirted with this man for your whole break and not even learned his name?

He nods and turns away, sure that it would be rude to try to extend the conversation. He will just have to go home and write about this, working it into the plot of his movie somehow.

******

Monday, June 10, 2024

The email went out before opening time, when only your bosses were up in the offices and the docent core hadn’t gotten to work yet. You’d nearly crashed your car in excitement while CarPlay read the email out to you on the highway.

A movie. An actual Hollywood movie is coming to film at the museum!

The second you clocked in and sprinted to the break room to put your things away, you almost clobbered Moira with squealed, giddy glee.

“Did you hear?? Did you see Leslie’s email?!”

“Oh my god, yesssss.” She lights up and nods quickly. “It’s a movie by that guy who did the Nic Cage movie a couple of years ago.” She informs you. “The one that won an Oscar and restarted that man’s career?” After a long slump of bad movies, the older actor had exploded back on the scene, apparently full of new life and motivation for his trade.

“I can’t wait until we find out more!” Being able to hug your friend and squeal together is such a rush. The two of you have become joined-at-the-hip work friends to the point where the friendship has bled into everyday life. “A name, a plot, any of the stars?”

“Actors.” She sighs dreamily. “Imagine if your soulmate or mine, is an actor who comes to film?” She loves the glitz and glam of Hollywood and always secretly imagined being an actress herself, although she’s realistic enough to understand that it would be impossible to have happen.

“Maybe yours will be.” You laugh, hugging her again before you have to break away to pull your radio headset out of your bag. There is still work to do today, desire the excitement. “You’ll have to make sure you always wear your hair up so your tattoo is visible.” The little raven behind her ear would be a hell of a lot easier to show off than the tarot card on her though, anyway. Moira’s tattoos are gorgeous and just unique enough that you would bet there was no duplicate in the works besides her soulmate.

“Oh I’m planning on it.” She licks her lips and waggles her brows suggestively. “What about you? Yours aren’t so visible.” She knows how much you secretly want to meet your soulmate and be with them. It was a drunken girl’s night confession but she had never teased you over it.

“There’s no reason to go around showing everyone my marks.” You shrug a little and busy yourself with plugging into a walkie-talkie and adjusting your headset in your ear. “A lot of people have ankle scars, don’t they? And I can’t exactly show off my butterfly.” Exposing that much skin is definitely against dress code.

“Is it your scar or his?” You had never mentioned that, just that you had a scar.

“It’s theirs.” However your soulmate is, you’ve tried very hard not to make assumptions about them. The person you hope for might not be the person you get, and that wouldn’t be fair to them. “I was nine when it appeared, so my best guess has always been they fell out of a tree or play sports.”

“And the tattoo is yours?” She knows, she’s just chatting because it’s better than actually getting ready to work right now.

“Twenty-first birthday.” You nod, knowing that she knows but that Moira likes a slower start to her day than you usually do. “I did the opposite of most people. I got the tattoo and then went out to get drunk.”

“Which is a very valid and smart thing to do.” She praises. “That way you don’t bleed too much and it’s a nice way to numb the pain after.” Her own walkie comes out to begrudgingly clip to her waist. “But this movie, it has to be a period piece, right? No way a modern millionaire would live in a house like this.”

“It has to be. There’s no point in renting out a historical house museum for four entire months unless you’re going to use it all.” Not that you know too much about the filming process, but it just makes logical sense. “And besides, they’re here in spring and summer, which is usually our busy season. So I’m sure Leslie charged them a fortune. But HBO can afford it, I guess.”

“What if they let us be extras?” Her eyes widen at the sudden thought. “Oh god, we could wear our work!” She giggles happily at the thought.

“I assume there will have to be extras somehow.” Truthfully, you’d let your Hollywood dreams die out a long time ago. Moira’s were much more present. It would be amazing to see her to be able to fulfill them with even just a morsel like being an extra. “I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”

“When it gets closer you will be just as excited as I am.” She predicts with a knowing grin.

“I’m plenty excited,” you promise, happily hugging her to your side as the two of you head out into the house together. “I just think you belong in front of a camera much more than I do.”

“You’ll change your mind.” She teases. “When you see what gorgeous actors and actresses they bring, you will be begging to flirt with them. On and off camera.”

“Maybe.” Her confidence is catching, and you laugh again at the thought of it. Hollywood has come knocking on your door and it’s already making work a hell of a lot more fun.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

[urbeachboy]

O1 — World’s Best Detective ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⋆˙⟡ — synopsis : you take up a co-worker’s shift, nearly get stabbed, and Red Robin’s losing his flair.

⋆˙⟡ — content : gn reader, violence, mugging, threatening, attempts at sexual assault, alcohol, knives, someone’s wrist is broken and depicted a bit vividly, i attempt (miserably so) to write accents, gotham. . .

Gotham is a hell-hole.

It isn’t like you weren’t aware of it, for you were, and anyone else (especially your family members) was also aware of it. And they’d tried to warn you, they always tried to warn you. Warn you of the supervillains that invoke a sense of incredulity (seriously- what’s a ‘condiment king’?), and superheroes who surpass them in that very field.

But it was cheap, and it was - well.. sufficient. Though there’s cobwebs in the corners of your apartment, it’s.. sufficient. You’ll clean it up- you’ll manage- it’ll suffice. As a matter of fact, the mess and the grime and the several health code violations isn’t quite the biggest issue, which says a ton.

It’s the crime rates. You’ve gotten past getting mugged five times, kidnapped two and assaulted six. It’s almost impressive, considering it has been no more than a fortnight and you almost always stick to a crowd, and refrain from going out past 12. Goodness, it’s like you’re a teenager all over again.

Thankfully, you’ve avoided danger almost completely so far. There’s no reason you would’ve gotten caught in the spider’s web- you’re a fly that sticks to its business. You get up at seven in the morning, eat the fastest breakfast you can, go to your classes (you're in Gotham Uni; the only reason you’re here), work your part-time at the local coffee shop, go home as quick as you can after clocking out, collapse in your bed, repeat. Bathing is fitted in there somewhere, too.

See, yesterday, one of your co-workers, Elise, had asked for you to take over her shift.

She’d approached you yesterday afternoon when you were wiping a bead of sweat away from your forehead (Gotham was especially humid in summer- figures, with it being New Jersey and all). She had sauntered up to you with all the suaveness of a siamese cat, with her dark hair done into a high ponytail.

Elise called out to you when she was barely a few feet away, a smile gracing her lips. “Could you do a favour for me, please?”

You quirked an eyebrow, but just before you could have parted your lips to ask, she was quick to speak over you. “You know, I’m asking you this because you’re like, the nicest person here. Honestly, you’re the only one I can talk to, haha! I know you’ll understand.”

You weren't gonna understand. Not when it's Elise--she's somewhat infamous round the workplace for her... behaviour.

Then, you were tempted to respond with a sharp ‘what do you want, Elise?’ and that’s just what you went to do until, despite yourself, you change it up last-second. “What is it?” you end up saying, and it sounds much more polite than you’d have liked it to sound. Your reputation precedes you, you think.

“Well,” she leaned back against the counter. There weren’t many customers then, most people were at work or school, so you had a little moment of respite. “It’s my sister’s wedding tomorrow,” you don’t recall her ever mentioning a sister before, “and I was thinking maybe you could take my shift for me?” Tough luck. “Just for tomorrow, I promise. I won’t bother you about anything after that.”

It’s a horribly difficult decision to make (note the sarcasm), but with great effort, you open your mouth to deny her request when she cuts you off. Again. “I knew you would, sweetie! Thanks!” And she’s gone.

So you had taken her shift- it’d be a one-time thing. It’d be fine.

Though, unexpectedly, it'd been especially busy today and you seemed to have completely zoned out while making coffee after coffee that, when all the customers are satisfied and have left, you drag your weary eyes up to the window and see darkness. You do a double-take-- still darkness.

You’re late.

It’s 12:30, you see it when you glance at the quaint clock on the pastel-coloured wall. It’s 12:30, and, looking out the window once more, it’s sans any life. You can hear a few strays howling, but that’s about it.

You may have called yourself paranoid in any other situation, but right now? In Gotham? You’re not taking those chances. You weren’t taking those chances, you had been avoiding those chances like the Black Plague but now the chances are shoved into your open palms very so generously.

Yes, there are vigilantes, a plethora of them- but you’re not sure if you trust your well-being in the hands of these mysterious masked individuals who go by strange aliases. Red Hood? Seriously? Maybe he’ll have a dainty little basket, too, on his dainty little self. Maybe he’ll give you a loaf of bread and a pot of butter or whatever it is that Little Red Riding Hood was taking to her grandma if you ask nice enough.

So, your distrust towards vigilantes aside, now you’re in a dilemma- you’re certainly not staying the night at the café, it’ll get you fired for sure. And even if it doesn’t, what would you tell them? That you were far too chicken to walk home because it’s past 12:00? They’re locals, lived here for years. You’re clearly not.

In the end, after a few more minutes of contemplating, you picked up your bag, holding it close to yourself while your eyes flicker up to the clock once more- 12:40. Okay. You can do this, no big deal- you’re an adult.

Walking out the café’s door on wobbly legs, you’re shrouded by the darkness. The moon barely aids you, meagre light shining down on you from the great crescent in the sky. It’s thankfully just enough to see, and while you could take out your phone’s flashlight, you don’t want to risk grabbing any unwanted attention.

The streets are, for the most part, empty—save for the few pigeons or stray dogs that you see in the alleys—which is unusual for these parts of Gotham.

Then, you hear it- a loud ‘clang!’. Like metal.

Instinctively, your head whips around only to find that it’s.. a cat. A calico, barely anything save a kitten, messing around atop some trash can.

You’re not sure what compels you then, but like an idiot, you take a final glance around and, upon reconfirming that the streets are vacant of people, you inch towards the cat.

“Hey, kitty,” you coo, slowly reaching a hand out once you’re in the alley. It’s not that far from the road, you’re barely halfway in the alley, only just outside it for the cat. The calico reacts positively to your approach, letting out a small ‘meow’ and nuzzling its nose into your palm. You could’ve melted then and there. It’s evident, really, from how you continue to blabber sweet nothings underneath your breath, barely on the brink of squealing because the little thing just seems to revel in your affection.

It seems alone. You wonder where its mother is. It’s mewls sound pitched, and it’s definitely supposed to be feeding still. You can’t help but feel pity as you take in the orange splotches of colour on the otherwise black and white cat, and it’s blue eyes. Suddenly, in the midst of your discerning, it jumps off the trash can and hurriedly rushes away. “..What was that all about?” you mumble to yourself.

Footsteps catch your attention. Your eyes shoot up from the ground and dread fills you. You’d forgotten your rule. It should’ve been well past 12:00 now, and you’re in immediate danger.

Sparing a glance to the cat who was now trotting away, you almost wish you could’ve blamed it on the animal, but you’re very well aware whose fault it is that you’re about to get murdered.

“Hey,” a man calls out. He’s imposing, and he’s got grizzly brown hair and mutton chops. He’s wearing a worn T-shirt and some jeans, and his voice? God, his voice. It’s gruff and heavy and unsettling- it makes you feel unsteady, as though your knees are about to give out. You don’t dare respond. Instead, you decide to do the next best thing.

You pick flight over fight, and you flee. Or at least, you attempt to. It was almost embarrassing how fast his hands wrapped around your wrists, and even more so how you tried to wretch your hands away to absolutely no avail. It barely registers in your head, but he’s cussing at you, mumbling, something about calming down. Like hell you’re going to calm down. No, in fact, you may have the survival instincts of a fawn, but hell if you’re calming down. Instead, you scream- as loud as you can, at the top of your lungs, when he cuts it short by placing his palm over your mouth, positioned meticulously so you wouldn’t be able to bite down on him as much as you’d liked to.

You thrash and flail, and he lowers himself down to your ear. “Listen here, babe. Yer’ gunna give me yer’ cash, or ah’m gunna take somethin’ else.” He has an accent, and you’re not sure what kind (though you’re not very eager to find out), but it’s thick as a bush. More than his accent, though, you fixate on his words- you know sure as gravity what he's talking about. What he’s insinuating. You want to gag- you feel the bile travelling up your throat, but you swallow it back down, tears pricking at the ducts of your eyes. With how loud you screamed, you’re sure some vigilante must’ve heard you, but alas, nobody comes hither.

It’s stupid, you’re aware, but you can’t think of anything else. Spite and disgust and hatred and adrenaline, all at once, fill up your being and you shake your head, thrashing about some more. Writhing, squirming, wriggling, anything. You kick your legs back, aiming for his feet, but you stop when he holds his other hand up to your neck. He leaves his hands free, and noting this, you’re about to use them to fight back- but you stop cold in your tracks.

You stop. You stop when you realise he’s holding something in his hand. It glints under the moonlight, and you realise it’s exactly what you feared- a knife. Far from dull. The exact opposite, really. And it’s held up to your rushing pulse, threatening to draw blood.

You’re not sure what to do anymore. You need to pay your rent, you’re barely hanging on by a thread. You’re also not giving up your dignity- you’re also not going to die. The safest option is your money. Slowly, you raise your shaking arms into the air, as if to surrender. “Good,” he drawls. When he removes his hand from your mouth, you can smell it- the sickening stench of alcohol. Of-course he’s drunk. It’s likely why he’s so bold.

Just as you’re about to reach for your wallet, your aggressor jolts.

“What the fu—” His knife is knocked out of his hand, and his hand? Oh, his poor hand. You hear a very discernible ‘crack!’ paired with a scream from him as his hand is twisted into a position that isn’t remotely human. There’s a hand on his wrist, his assaulter- they’re clad in black leather (or some other sort of shiny, smooth material) gloves, and you follow it up to their arm (red sleeves), and their neck, and then their face. You glance down at their chest- and lo and behold; Red Robin.

He’s just like you’ve heard (or like how you’ve seen from the few blurry, low-quality videos that made it onto the news time again), his black hair parting at the centre, forming a sort of arch. Ah- wait, right. You’re not supposed to be dwelling on his appearance- not when your perpetrator is in immense pain. You almost want to cheer for the vigilante, but you hold back.

“Drop the knife,” he says to the man, his voice seeming far too familiar. Though you haven’t heard Red Robin before. His voice is near boyish, and though he’s younger than you assumed, he seems far from a teenager.

Backing up slowly, you’re unsure what exactly to do. So instead, you lean against a wall of the alley, trying to compose yourself, trying to get your breathing to slow down because you’re not sure when all the oxygen entering your lungs started to become too much, too fast. You trail a hand up to your chest, and you close your eyes and focus and, sure enough, your heart is beating at the speed of a Jackrabbit’s. It was understandable, to you, at least. Because, oh my god, he just broke that guy’s wrist. Holy shit.

You try to focus on anything else but your nerves, eyes landing on Red Robin and your assailant (you’re not certain how many words you’ve used for him by now). The latter is scrambling to apologise, the knife on the floor and one of his hands holding the other (which was limp by now. Your wrist feels like it’s faintly aching too, merely at the sight). He’s shaken, and you’re sure you would’ve been, too, if your wrist was snapped in half like nothing.

You can’t register what any of them are saying. It’s not that you’re far away, no, you’re close enough. But all the words are slurring together in your mind and you can’t bring yourself to focus. You see Red Robin nod his head towards the streets after a while, and your assailant hurriedly rushes off, leaving his knife there on the ground. The vigilante in red picks it up promptly, observing it for any stains and stashing it away in his utility belt. Then, his gaze is drawn to you from beneath the mask.

You always thought the masks were odd. Especially when you could see half their faces- save for Batman, of course. He says something, and you can hear his lips move, but it’s all Greek to you when it comes out. Then, his brows knit together the slightest bit in concern, and he takes a step forward. You can hear it now. “You okay?”

You nod. It’s almost embarrassing, the amount you’re shaking. But he doesn’t seem to judge you. Thank god for that, even if you’re not sure why you assumed he would. You almost had your neck sliced in half as if it were a watermelon in a game of Fruit Ninja.

Then you stare at Red Robin. You really stare at him. You squint your eyes, falling over his frame. His voice was familiar, you recalled telling yourself that not a few minutes ago. But why? Was it just one of those voices? It wasn’t. You realised it when you looked at his hair again. Black, silky locks that fell in waves, an arch formed at the centre. Holy shit. Holy shit. No, no it’s not. It’s not.

No, it so is. So you tell him, you tell him like it is. Or like you think it is, at least.

“You’re Tim drake.” It comes out breathy, like a gasp. Like you don’t believe yourself.

Then you stare at him some more. Because he’s doing the exact same thing, staring at you like you’d said something obscene, like you were from another planet or all your teeth had fallen out. His nose scrunched up only for a second, before a small snicker escaped him. Like he’d forgotten himself. His facade.

“I’m Red Robin.” It was confident, clear, crisp- every syllable. He knew who he was, he was self-assured. You almost doubted yourself, just for a second. But with you, instinct was always stronger than wit.

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s late. Do you need me to walk you home? Looked a bit dazed earlier,” he cut you off with the beginnings of a smile on his lips, acting like he didn’t even hear you. Which, yes, you started quite softly, but you’re sure he was close enough to hear.

You narrow your eyes. Ultimately, you decided it’d be best not to budge. There’s shivers that wrack your spine as images of that man’s twisted wrist invade your head. That could be your neck. No.

The bats and the birds don’t kill. The bats and the birds are, however, not above beating you to a pulp so much so that you wished that they kill. And then maybe they’ll leave you at some dingy hospital.

Slowly, you nod your head, moving up and off the wall you were slumped against previously. He smiled. It seemed so genuine, but you’re certain it’s not.

“Lead the way, then.”

⋆˙⟡ — a/n : i’m sososo sorry it took this longggg :( been a bit busy and also writer’s block hit HARD <//3 but i’ve prevailed !! 2nd chapter soon !!

. fin ˗ˏˋ ᯓᡣ𐭩

[ranfordgallus]

Changed Einhorn's adult design...again, because of course

His height is...pretty big as you can see LMAO, he's around..maybe 9-10 feet tall

My guy gets hairier and his horn gets longer

I like his current design by now, makes him look more stronger and more majestic and mythical..hehehe...

Kinda wish he had a partner still..poor guy, last(?) Of his kind or just never had a species of his own to take care of him

I GOT SOME GOOD LORE...smiles... so he is an antelope..right??? And antelopes have two horns, stay with me now....

What if..he had a mutation from birth that he had only 1 horn instead of two? And since mutations in younglings at nature usually the parent will care for the "stronger" sibling than the ones who are "sick"..and his species lived in herds so...when he accidently fell to a cliff and got stuck, his parent never came for him since it's a waste of time, why should we save a child that has no way of protecting itself in the future? (having only one horn), and since his parent has another child, she can just take care of her healthy child than a mutant

And so, Einhorn has been stuck on a large crevasse.. for maybe 39 hours, squeaking for help but no voice of his species to be heard. And so he felt hopeless, until...a creature came

This creature looked nothing like him, he hid on a small cave fit enough for him to squeeze but it's too late, it already saw him. And when the creature came closer and closer, Einhorn became more scared and nervous, it makes this weird voice he could'nt understand. The creature reached down to him, looking back at him, but Einhorn felt too scared to move, it's like he went frozen. It picked him up, Einhorn is looked in eyes on it..and then the creature spoke, it said that it discovered a new species? It started making weird noises, high pitched..like a hyena cackling, it started calling something, Einhorn has no idea what's going on, is it gonna kill him? Call for another to rip him apart to feast?

Another came, and he looked at them, the newcomer looked so excited for some reason and ran up to him, these creatures started talking to eachother in its weird language, the newcomer started to pick him up from the other creatures arms..they're both so gentle with him, he never felt more safe with a species not like him, the newcomer said.." i'll call you..Einhorn, because he's got one horn!" He doesn't understand what he said but his interest is peaked.

The two creatures carried him, Einhorn doesn't understand whats going on but he's not getting killed he thinks, so..he just stayed, unmoving. The two creatures took care of his wounds, he seem more happy and is interested in these two beings, sniffing the brown hair of the creature, tugging on the newcomers blue fabric playing with them

He liked the yellow haired more, he's more parental than his biological parent can ever be, he liked the brown haired second though, but he enjoys his company, he doesn't understand what the brown hair is saying but he likes the attention of brown hair observing him.

Sooo..yeah, thats all i got for now..yapper of the year

[starvingnarcissistmusic]

I've had this drafted forever and I'm not entirely sure why I didn't post it. Oh well, better late than never!

MAL DU PAYS (the song) fun facts:

(Like the original post, spoilers for Act 5 ((and also 2hats)))

- Originally, after finishing the game, I wanted to write a song about Loop. They're one of my favorite parts of the game and I really loved their character, but I ended up scrapping that idea very early on, as I couldn’t really find a personal tie to anchor the song to me. While I did want to write a song about the game, I didn’t want to write something that didn’t resonate with me and my musical “mythos” in some way. It's a fan song, but it's also a Starving Narcissist song, and I felt it was important to strike that balance. MAL DU PAYS (Monophobia) only got released because I felt that it was something that fit into the larger body of my works even without the context of the game. So in the end, I chose to write about Siffrin, as I found them a lot more personally relatable. The final version, lyrically, is almost like I’m using Siffrin as a vehicle to write about my own feelings. Some lyrics are his, some are mine, a few are both of us, it’s a weird sort of style I’ve never really written in before.

I do have some leftover lyrics from the scrapped Loop version, though!

“There’s a you you’ll never be, across the cosmic sea / Who has everything you wanted, now it’s everything you need; is it over yet?”

- I think originally the song had a lot more of an exhausted vibe, but with most of the stuff I write, the tempo usually gets faster the more I play it. At some point in the writing process the song channeled more of a manic energy than I had originally intended it to. Loud and shouty is kinda just my default lol.

(The first ever demo for the song, recorded September 15, 2024. Features some slightly altered lyrics!)

- The title was also subject to change! I think for a while I was going back and forth on just calling it Homesickness, mostly because I was a little nervous that my song’s name was technically a late game spoiler. Half the reason I wanted to even write the song was because I thought MAL DU PAYS would make a great song title though, so in the end I just sucked it up and went with my gut. The alternate title was also not set in stone, I think originally I was considering just calling it Mania or Paranoia, but I thought those would be a bit generic. Eventually, I settled on Monophobia, because I felt it was apt in describing the song as a whole. I write a lot about loneliness, and Siffrin is afraid of being alone, so it felt fitting to name the song after the fear of it. (And also, a bit more superficially, I thought Monophobia made a better song title.)

- The song is the only Starving Narcissist song on a nylon string guitar, and it's also the second song in a completely non-standard tuning (third if you count ITWYW?, but that's just a half step down from standard). MAL DU PAYS (Monophobia) in DADF#BD, with a capo on 1.

- THIS SONG HAD SO MANY REVISIONS. I don't think I've ever had this many versions to a song ever. It got so bad that I made a specific folder just to hold all the different variations I had for the song. They're not all too different from each other, and they're all built on the same take of the song, but I was playing around with mixing and structuring and vocal layering and its a whole mess. Honestly, the fact that it's a song about a timeloop makes it probably the funniest song this could have happened to.

- And that's about it! To end off this little fun fact post, here's a little something I wrote for Genius (where lyrics for this song and all my others are posted! plus annotations I write! <3) about the song. The response to MAL DU PAYS (Monophobia) has been pretty wild, and I'm glad it managed to resonate with people, even some who don't even know the game it's about.

That's all. While I guarantee this year will probably be slower for Starving Narcissist, rest assured that I am working on stuff, just very slowly. There's a very low chance I'll ever do something as flagrantly self indulgent as this song, but whatever I do end up doing, I hope you're around to see it.

In the meantime, stream the song on spotify! or buy it on bandcamp! or even just go watch the lyric video i made for it (please i spent like a week on this)!

Thanks for everything, see you later <333

Happy one year anniversary to In Stars And Time! tldr; i wrote a song about it. if you wanna skip all the gushing and just listen to it, click here. (spoilers for act 5) If not, behold this big rambly mess of a thing i wrote:

So funny story, I kind of wasn’t planning on releasing anything for the rest of the year. The album wore me out, and the only other idea I had sort of fell through, so I was content on just letting the album be the only thing of note I would make in 2024.

… and then, in September, I played a little RPG called In Stars And Time. beat the whole thing over the course of three days, then spent the next couple weeks ravenously consuming all the fan content I could get my hands on. my friends have been forced to stare at my siffrin pfp every day for two months straight at this point and frankly i think they are tired of me talking about it.

i love the art, i love the story, i love the music, i love the characters, i love the world. siffrin sort of immediately became one of my favorite protagonists like,, ever. and it definitely did not help that i am also a scrawny forgetful person who has to regularly fight off the part of my brain that convinces myself that All My Friends Secretly Hate Me.

I’ve never really been so called out by a character before. The spiraling, the deflection, and the agony of being a stranger to yourself. the yearning for something you cant even name, because how could you? you cant even find the words on your tongue. not being able to tell anyone how you feel because its just easier to live with it, easier to let it eat you from the inside out then to bother anybody else. its easier to keep the mask on, stick to your lines, let the show go on.

all that hit just a bit too close to home. so i did what I usually do When Things Hit and wrote about it.

(like i said, spoilers for Act 5; It’s pretty devoid of context but they’re spoilers nonetheless)

MAL DU PAYS (Monophobia) is a song about cyclical burnout, self-estrangement, and homesickness. It’s half about Siffrin, half about me, but mostly it’s a rumination on loneliness and the hell that is the self.

Out now wherever you listen to music.

“How can you be homesick if nowhere is home?"

[paigeswiftsea]

Why Star Stable Online Has Lost it's Players (And How to Fix It) (An Analysis)

Introduction

I've been playing Star Stable Online (SSO) for a long time—around 8-9 years. My older sister introduced me to it during our shared horse phase, and for years, it was an exciting escape that we were both obsessed with. We eagerly awaited new main quests, wondering what the next big story update would bring.

But lately? The magic is gone.

Some might say it’s just nostalgia, that I’ve outgrown the game. While there may be some truth to that, I believe SSO itself has changed in ways that stripped it of its former charm. I used to fight my sister for our family computer just to get my one hour of gameplay each day. Now? I barely log in, only returning for big updates like Christmas, the Medieval Festival, and the Home Stable revamp. I still participate in the fandom and write fanfiction, meaning I engage with the lore—but the actual gameplay? It’s boring.

After reflecting on this, I realized that SSO has lost what made it special. The intrigue, mystery, and excitement have faded, leaving behind a game that feels repetitive, predictable, and uninspired.

And the worst part? It didn’t have to be this way.

The Main Questline

One of the biggest reasons why SSO has lost its mystique is the shift in the main questline.

Back in the earlier years of the game, the main story felt like a real adventure. It had danger, secrecy, and high stakes.

For example, the dark core quests, saving Justin, meeting Fripp for the first time, hell even the opening screen.

They got rid of the first opening screen for a mediocre riding island tutorial. It also contradicts the plot because Lisa and Anne are supposed to be missing at the beginning of the game, yet there they are, welcoming a random new rider to the island? It doesn't make any sense.

And again, The quests now all follow the same formula of:

“Oh no, something bad happens! Quick, MC, do all the work! We believe in you! Yay, friendship! The Dark Riders scowl and leave. Quest complete.”

There’s no real challenge, no real mystery, and barely any tension. The game has become too afraid to put the player in real danger, so everything feels safe and shallow.

Even the Dark Riders don’t feel like villains anymore. They show up, taunt you, and then leave. They don’t feel like an actual threat.

Dark Core? Completely incompetent. The same organization that once kidnapped and brainwashed Justin and had an eerie, powerful presence now feels like a joke.

The stakes are gone. The story is dragging. And at this rate, we’ll still be waiting for the final battle in 2040.

Nothing ever feels genuinely difficult or tense.

Where’s the mystery? Where’s the challenge? Why does it feel like nothing truly matters anymore?

Even the Fort Maria quests, which should have been an exciting addition, were a letdown. Instead of diving deep into the Keepers of Aideen’s past or discovering secrets and lore, we got... daily quests that never gave us any new lore, just MC doing all the work, again. The primaeval tree was interesting I admit, but it also felt like it came out of nowhere, and I still don't really remember the point of those quests. The only interesting parts of those quests to me were opening the portal, which then led to more daily quests while SSE came up with more filler.

Catering to a Younger Audience Backfired

SSO has always been a game for kids, but in the past, it never talked down to its audience. The earlier quests had a level of complexity and emotional weight that made them enjoyable for all players.

Now? It feels like SSE has sacrificed everything that made the story compelling in favor of appealing to a younger audience in the most uninspired way possible.

But here’s the thing: you can make a game appealing to kids without making it boring for older players.

Plenty of games manage to be engaging for both younger and older audiences—think of Minecraft, Pokémon, even certain Roblox games (Dress To impress?). These games balance fun and accessibility while still providing enough depth for older players to enjoy.

Meanwhile, SSO is stuck in an identity crisis. It doesn’t know if it wants to be a fun horse game, an epic fantasy adventure, or a horse shopping simulator. And instead of balancing all of these elements, it’s failing at all three.

The Economy Is Awful (And It’s Driving Players Away)

Let’s be honest: SSO’s in-game economy is a disaster.

Jorvik Shillings are practically useless because items are priced absurdly high, making it impossible for non-Star Riders to afford anything. Even Star Riders struggle because shillings are capped, meaning if you’re maxed out, you’re forced to waste shillings or spend Star Coins. This also doesn't help when you're a free player, and every single item is 9990 shillings.

Star Coins are ridiculously overpriced, and SSE knows it. Prices have gone up, but the value of what you get has gone down. New horses are more expensive than ever, tack and clothes are absurdly priced, and with weekly Star Coin allowances being so low, the game constantly pressures you into spending real money.

No one wants to feel broke in a game. We log in to escape reality, not to feel like a struggling stablehand who can’t even afford a pair of boots.

SSE seems to think they can make more money by increasing Star Coin dependency. But guess what? If the game was actually fun, people would be happy to spend money on it. Instead, more and more players are quitting because it’s just not worth investing in anymore.

SSO’s Most Successful Moments Were Events—So Why Did They Get Rid of Them?

Think about the most active times on SSO in 2024—probably Christmas, main quest updates, and the Equestrian Festival.

What do these all have in common? Limited-time events.

People log in for seasonal events because they’re fun. But instead of keeping beloved events like:

The Birthday Festival

The April Fools Car Prank (ICONIC)

The Pride/Cloud Kingdom Event

Midsummer Festival

Easter

…SSE removed them in favor of shopping/bazaar updates and the permanent Medieval Festival.

Why? Why take away the things that made the game feel alive? Seeing Jorvik change with the seasons, experiencing new limited-time adventures, and collecting fun event-exclusive items were some of the best parts of the game. Removing them just makes Jorvik feel static and lifeless.

New Owners

In 2021 I believe, The game was sold or bought out, something along those lines ( feel free to correct me if I'm wrong on that). And I found this quote from a website about an interview from Stacy Place and CEO Johan Sjöberg. (This is from 2021 so things may have changed but I doubt it.)

“Players want things to do, and the story has to be continued,” Stacy agrees. “There’s definitely a hunger for more endgame content, and we want to deliver that.” Stacy explains that there has not really been a dedicated “Quest Team” at SSO recently, and that as a result, the people who could have been working on that, would keep having other tasks assigned to them. “It’s always about juggling resources,” Stacy goes on, “between new horses, events and updating environments and character designs, it’s been difficult to get resources allocated for the creation of new quests.” But here too, the future is looking promising: “I actually have a meeting on that later today!” Stacy adds. “We need to move this forward in a healthy way.” That does not mean we should expect fewer new horse releases in the future though. “Horses are our main business. They are what keeps the game afloat – and we take them seriously!” Most recently, Star Stable has added the updated American Paint Horse and additional coat variations for six popular breeds.

This just confirms what a lot of players have already suspected—SSO has prioritized horse releases over actual gameplay content. It’s not even a secret anymore; they outright admit that they haven’t had a dedicated Quest Team for a while.

The problem isn’t just a lack of quests—it’s that the entire game feels stagnant because everything revolves around pumping out new horses. Yes, horses are the game’s main source of revenue, but without meaningful content, why should players stay?

They’re acknowledging the issue, which is something, but words don’t mean much if we don’t see real change. A meeting about quest development is great, but will it actually lead to consistent story updates? Or is it just another vague promise to keep players hopeful?

And the fact that they’re still saying, “Horses are our main business” just reinforces that new breeds will always take priority over everything else. That’s not inherently bad—but it shows that story progression, worldbuilding, and forgotten areas like Dino Valley will always come second.

At the end of the day, if the game keeps prioritizing short-term profits (horse releases) over long-term player engagement (quests, events, and actual reasons to keep playing), more players will leave.

They need to have dedicated teams for each sector of the game, not people who work on everything all at once. Quests, horses, other game updates like area updates, character updates need to be specific groups where a team focuses solely on one thing at a time.

Later in the article they rephrase this by saying,

"An addendum, because this part of the article appears to be misunderstood by many readers: That there hasn't been a dedicated quest team does not mean that nobody at SSO has been working on Quests in recent months and years. “When we say we don’t have a ‘dedicated quest team’, we mean that we haven’t always been structured to have a team that specifically works only on quests,” Stacy clarifies in a follow-up email to this article. “Instead, we have multiple teams that work on delivering the game. So the team working on quests doesn’t only work on quests, which are complex and touch many other areas of development.”

This just further highlights the core issue—SSO doesn’t have structured teams dedicated to specific aspects of the game. Instead of having a Quest Team, a Horse Team, an Environment Team, and so on, they have a general development team that has to juggle multiple responsibilities at once.

And this lack of structure shows in the game itself. Quest updates are slow and inconsistent, while new horses get released like clockwork. Environmental updates happen occasionally, but areas like Dino Valley and the old abandoned doors remain untouched. Character updates have been sporadic, with some NPCs looking modern and polished while others still look like they belong in 2015. (long necks anyone? :0)

Their explanation makes it clear: quests are not a priority. If they were, SSO would have a team dedicated solely to working on them, instead of splitting development resources across multiple tasks.

If they really want to fix the game, they need to stop treating everything like an afterthought and start forming specialized teams:

A Quest Team to work exclusively on new storylines, side quests, and meaningful updates.

A Horse Team to continue designing new breeds and variations.

An Environment Team to focus on updating neglected areas like Dino Valley and Epona that don't change the whole game, like Steve's farm, Silverglade village, and the vineyard.

An Events Team to bring back beloved seasonal content and add new, engaging activities.

Without this, we’re going to keep seeing slow, repetitive updates where new horses come first and everything else falls to the wayside. The game needs balance, not just new models.

Speaking of new models,

One of the biggest issues is that our character model doesn’t match the NPC models at all. Some NPCs still have the old, low-poly look, while our characters have a completely different art style and proportions. This makes us look like giants compared to some NPCs, and the contrast is jarring.

SSO shouldn’t have updated the player model without also updating the NPCs. It creates an unpolished experience where the game feels disjointed. If they’re going to revamp one part of the game, they need to follow through and make everything cohesive.

And while body diversity is great, the range of body types still feels limited. There’s no truly skinny option, and while it’s not the biggest issue, true inclusivity means representing everyone. If they want to keep improving, they should expand the customization options—not just body types, but also things like facial features, hairstyles, and animations to make the character feel more natural. And it doesn't help that they promised more to come with the first character update which was when? almost 2 full years ago? They are dropping the ball in multiple areas.

Marketing

SSE does not market as the actual game. It advertises fun and adventure, a silly game for kids when in reality it is nothing to that. It doesn't give that magic or mystery of the old ones. I went and found commercials from different years. There's this old one, and then this short one on youtube I found. Now, let's compare.

That short is so fuckass. like why are they making Darko into a redditor? Plus, it gives major spoilers as well so like if it reaches someone who was thinking about playing the game, it's like an automatic spoiler.

has a completely different tone. It presents the game as an immersive adventure with mystery, danger, and excitement. The stakes feel high, and it showcases the fantasy elements in a way that makes Jorvik feel like a living, magical world.

This shift in marketing reflects the identity crisis SSO is currently facing. It used to be a horse adventure game with strong storytelling, but now it’s marketed as a simple kids' game, which doesn’t align with its actual gameplay or longtime audience. This disconnect contributes to player dissatisfaction and dwindling engagement.

Let's also discuss the tik tok account. I think any tiktoker will remember the pocket Sabine series? The marketing team series they post on tiktok as well are super dumb and cringy as well. Maybe this is really nitpicky, but I think their marketing team should focus a lot more on listening to feedback. This shift misrepresents what SSO once was—an immersive adventure with high stakes and rich storytelling. And, by downplaying the fantasy elements, the marketing alienates the older audience and misleads potential new players about the actual content of the game. The lighthearted TikTok series and other marketing materials have missed the mark, making the game seem trivial when it should be portrayed as the vast, magical world it was originally intended to be.

Updates and Slow Bug fixes

Unresolved Issues Persist: Players have long expressed frustration with the slow pace at which critical bugs are fixed in Star Stable Online. Persistent issues like broken quests, NPCs not triggering dialogue correctly, or horses not responding to commands may go on for weeks—or even months—without resolution. This lack of timely fixes can disrupt the immersion and enjoyment of the game, especially for players who are heavily invested in completing quests or building their horses’ stats.

Performance Problems: Many players have reported performance issues, such as lag, crashing, or long loading times. These technical hiccups are especially detrimental to players who are trying to enjoy the game on a more serious level. Despite these long-standing issues, they are often left unresolved for too long, giving the impression that the development team is more focused on new features than maintaining the current ones.

Impact on Gameplay Experience: The slow patching of bugs and glitches not only frustrates players but can also affect gameplay. For example, if a quest-breaking bug isn’t fixed, it can prevent players from progressing in the game or earning rewards, which could dampen their motivation to keep playing. Players who have experienced the same issue repeatedly may even feel neglected, leading to a decline in player retention.

(psa this was written before the cheating ban update so idk if anything changes here i haven't been online)

Pacing of Updates:

Inconsistent Release Schedule: There is often a lack of consistency in how updates are rolled out in Star Stable Online. Some months may see frequent updates with new content, while others might see a long dry spell where the community feels stagnant. When there is no clear pacing or roadmap, players might lose interest as they wait for new features or events. This inconsistency also makes it difficult to keep players engaged, especially if they feel that updates are sporadic and lack depth.

How SSE Can Fix This

Realistically, will SSE ever see this? Probably not. And even if they did, would they listen? Unlikely. But here’s what they could do to actually make the game engaging again:

Bring back the sense of mystery. The game doesn’t need to be horror, but it does need stakes, suspense, and excitement. Let Dark Core be evil. Make the Dark Riders feel like a real threat. Give us a story where we feel like we’re actually fighting for something.

Stop dumbing down the quests. Kids aren’t stupid. Plenty of kid-friendly media has deep, engaging stories that people of all ages can enjoy. SSO can, too.

Fix the economy. The current system is frustrating, predatory, and making people quit. Lower item prices, increase Jorvik Shilling rewards, and stop making everything feel like a cash grab.

Bring back seasonal events. Festivals, pranks, special decorations—these things made Jorvik feel alive. Removing them was a mistake.

Actually update the main story regularly. One to three main quest updates per year is not enough. The story is dragging, and at this pace, we’ll still be looking for the light ceremony pages in our 90's.

Listen to player feedback. The community has been vocal about these issues for years. Maybe it’s time SSE actually pays attention.

At its core, Star Stable Online has lost its identity. What was once a game about mystery, adventure, and meaningful storytelling has been reduced to a predictable cycle of overpriced horse releases and low-effort updates. The magic of Jorvik, once thriving with high-stakes quests and immersive seasonal events, has been replaced by a shallow, directionless experience that lacks the structure and ambition it desperately needs.

Instead of expanding on the compelling lore they already built, SSE has dragged the main story to a crawl while simultaneously making the Dark Riders and Dark Core feel like minor inconveniences rather than formidable threats. The economic decisions have only worsened the situation, making player engagement feel transactional rather than rewarding. The game’s reliance on overpriced horses and recycled events, coupled with its failure to deliver meaningful gameplay improvements, alienates both new players and longtime fans.

It didn’t have to be this way. With proper development structure, dedicated teams for different aspects of the game, and a renewed focus on engaging storytelling and gameplay, SSO could reclaim its former glory. But as it stands, it feels like SSE is more interested in short-term profit than in nurturing the world they created. If they continue down this path, Star Stable Online will remain in a slow decline, remembered more for what it could have been rather than what it actually became.

I don’t hate SSO. I wouldn’t be writing this if I did. I love the world, the characters, and the potential that’s still there. But right now, the game is failing its players. It’s losing old fans, struggling to keep new ones, and if it doesn’t course-correct soon, it risks fading into irrelevance.

SSO can be an amazing game again. But only if SSE actually puts in the effort.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

What would the stardew valley villagers think if one day their good pal farmer just casually dropped the fact they used to be into something crazy, like an illegal fighting ring. "Yeah I hiked out to an abandoned building at the outskirts of the city every Friday to fistfight people in the basement. It paid 10 times better then my shitty office job ever did but only when I won. There were some real actual martial artists in that ring too, even broke 2 of my fingers punching 1 guy, I miss hanging out with those dudes. Fighting actually relived a lot of stress for me, I didn't quit because I got hurt or anything I quit because my neighbors/coworkers wouldnt stop fussing over me when they saw me after I got hurt in a match. There's no acceptable way to explain how you get a black eye at the end of every week that doesn't raise alarm or get the cops called on someone. I'd probably get back into it if it didn't take a bus ride into the city to get to. I'm not even sure if the 1 i used to go to us still there, i might be able to find one of the other fighters and ask but its not guaranteed any if the other fighters i used to hang out with are all even still in that city"

"Wtf," said all the residents at the same time.

That's it, that's a headcanon. Thanks for the ask! ❤️

Alright, I'm kidding, but the way you wrote that ask, dear anon, is pretty funny heh 😁 Thanks a lot for the question, by the way! Enjoy 💖

_________________________________________

SDV villagers react to Farmer who told them about their illegal fights in past:

"Sir/Ma'am/Mx., this is Wendy's Pierre's." With all due respect to Pierre's best customer, why is Farmer telling him all this behind the counter of his store? Here's your seeds, fertilizer and saplings and goodbye. He has to work and he doesn't care about their- Wait, hold on, don't you dare tell that to his daughter-!

But Pierre was too late with his warnings: Abigail was standing nearby and had heard everything Farmer had said. The amethyst lover looked at them adoringly, because holy shit, underground fights in the city.... Farmer is so cool and badass in her eyes! Naturally, she wants to hear their stories of illegal fights (only when her parents aren't around).

Caroline called out to Abigail "on some very urgent business, quick!", bestowing Farmer with a shocked and concerned look. Seriously, she looked at them as if Farmer had just confessed to murder or something. Now she didn't really want her daughter hanging out with them, afraid that Abby would pick up the crazy idea to join the fights too.

Oh... Yeah, Elliott's friend has, uh... quite an interesting past. And what surprises the writer most is not even Farmer's underground battles themselves, but the fact of how they drastically change the trajectory of their lives and yet adapt to the environment with ease. From an office worker to a no-holds-barred fighter, and now a farmer. Well, if they want to write a biography, this would definitely be fun to read.

"Uh, what?" What did Farmer just tell Leah? The artist had listened to her dear friend's story about growing a giant pumpkin while she was finishing a new painting, and now how they were discussing Farmer's criminal past. Uh, cool and all, but maybe they'd better change the subject? Can they go back to telling stories about pumpkins?

"Ha ha ha how interesting, thanks for sharing!" Although Penny stood like a statue, motionless, her body slowly moved away from Farmer, who had just answered the teacher's question about their hobby in general. This was something she was definitely not prepared for, and, with a nervous smile, ended the conversation. How Penny moved without moving even a finger of her hand was a mystery.

*Shane put his can of beer away* Ok first of all, what the fuck. Second of all, he didn't really give a damn that Farmer was running around in dodgy places and fighting over money in Zuzu City, to be completely honest. Especially since the chicken man himself had done some crazy shit in his youth, not his place to judge or something. And last of all, what the fuck.

*Sob* "A- Aunt Marnie... Uncle Shane..." "Mommy! Sam!" "Uncle Linus!" Oops.... Apparently telling Jas, Vincent and Leo about 'the hobby' with detailed descriptions of violence wasn't Farmer's smartest idea (seriously, what did they even expect?). The kids have tears on their cheeks and their parents/guardians give Farmer a not-so-kind look. Now the delinquent farmer need lots of ice cream and mangoes so the local kids will forgive them.

Oh, so that's why Emily senses such an unusual aura around Farmer. Hmm? Ah, no, she just thinking out loud. Emily gets a little upset by such detailed descriptions of fights (she can't stand violence), so she politely asks Farmer to omit the details of their fights. An unconventional choice to 'relax', but it's not her place to judge people. And Farmer found some good friends there, so that's great!

Huh, now Marlon and Gil know where their new Guild member got their fighting skills from the very beginning of their arrival in the Valley. Fighting ring, eh? Marlon had dabbled a bit in all sorts of battles and fights for money too when he was Farmer's age - pretty good income, booze and friends. Though then he quickly gave it up as he found his purpose as adventurer and devoted himself to defending the Stardew Valley from monsters. Gil was the same, but he had been practicing his "hobby" a little longer than his one-eyed colleague.

Oh, goodness! So much violence and blood in Farmer's stories. Pity poor Evelyn's old heart, she can't listen to such cruel battles. So Farmer better stop talking and silently accept cookies and tea from sweet grandma and tell about their work on the farm.

Hmph! 'Underground battles', what a nonsense! Today's youth go to some abandoned buildings, fight, break laws and feel cool. If George wasn't confined to that damn wheelchair, he'd take Farmer down in one moment. And anyway, Farmer should stop this talking about their fighting, because George's wife doesn't like to talk about violence at the kitchen table.

"Tough fella, huh?" Alex regarded his friend Farmer for about half a minute. Really quite a formidable opponent if the athlete were to ask Farmer to fistfight in a friendly sparring. Though he's most interested in Farmer's diet and routine, since even before their farming career started, they look very healthy ("just don't suggest anything illegal, got it?").

*Sigh* The Wizard already knows. All. That. Farmer, how many times does he have to tell you he knows about your past? He's a wizard. A wizard. Someone who can see the future of others in a crystal ball and such. So unless Farmer brought him purple mushrooms or void essence, please don't distract Rasmodius with their stories, he has potions to brew.

"No freaking way, dude!" "Yes freaking way, Sam." The guitarist nearly fell off his chair when Farmer told him how they used to fight all sorts of big guys in the city in addition to their clerk jobs. Mega cool and hardcore! Sam will of course listen to more stories from his friend, but one moment, just let him close his room door so his mom or dad doesn't accidentally hear them.

Though Jodi doesn't particularly need to hear it from her oldest son's room - Caroline has already shared gossip and warnings with her during their weekly aerobics class. Which makes Jodi wary now, though she won't say her worries out loud. She won't treat Farmer any worse, they're good neighbors after all, she's just... worried about her sons, alright?

"Farmer, a word." Huh, they wonder what Kent needed from the Farmer. "I'll be honest: I don't know what your reasons were for your illegal fighting, it's none of my business and it's not for me to judge you. But don't suggest anything like that to Sam and Vincent, got it?" The veteran doesn't really care about Farmer's past, he just worried about his sons. Well, his kids are smart and won't get involved in anything illegal but just in case. Nothing personal.

That explains to Harvey how there are so many scars on Farmer's body. Quite a large number for someone as young as them. So how long had they been participating in these questionable activities? A month? Over a year? Some of the scars have long since healed. Wait, you know what - no need to tell him this further, because the first stories with such violence already made the doctor feel sick to his stomach.

"Uhhh..." Maru is shocked. "Goddess, did you really get paid so poorly in Joja that you had to do this as well to earn your bread?" Pretty shocking detail about Farmer, but hey, at least they made friends with many people back then, that's a good thing, yeah? Honestly, the inventor doesn't know how she should respond to that or what to say.

Ok, too much information for Gus... People are different, it's just that the owner of the Saloon doesn't understand how Farmer can talk about it so calmly and openly. He'd still understand if the Farmer told him about their illegal fights after a glass or two of strong wine/el, but they told him sober. They would, this, be careful who they told it to.

Sebastian took the cigarette out of his mouth and uttered a delighted 'wow...'. So, a job at a soul-sucking corporation during the day and bare-knuckle fighting at night? Damn, crazy lifestyle. But why didn't Farmer quit their job at Joja then? And why did they quit everything and become farmer now? Sebby's in no hurry to go home and if Farmer has some free time, maybe they'll tell the local emo about their fights in Zuzu City.

Haley sighs tiredly. Yoba, why does she have to be surrounded by weirdos? The guy who always wears black, her own sister's so weird with her crystals and aura nonsense. And now this new farmer is telling her wild facts about their life... It's so unfair!

"Aye," was the only thing Willy replied before taking up his smoking pipe again with his teeth. Not that thel old fisherman didn't care what Farmer was saying, but first of all, it would be better for both of them to sit in silence so as not to scare the fish away right now, and secondly, Farmer should not tell every person they met about their illegal hobbies. Other people might misunderstand them, or even use this information to blackmail them.

"What the fuck are you yapping about, kid?" Pam only partially heard their story, as the alcohol in her body already makes her feel very sleepy. Then there's this weird shit from Farmer. But also... if Farmer would now set another mug of beer for her, them she would listen to them, their every crazy story. With her eyes closed.

As soon as Demetrius hears exactly what Farmer told Maru, his wife Robin has to keep her hyper-parenting husband from taking drastic actions he might regret. So while he's sulking in the lab and glaring at his daughter and her friend, Robin gently explains to Farmer that this kind of talk about their illegal hobby isn't to everyone's liking, and if you can, don't mention it in front of her hubby and kids, okay? Especially such a detailed description of broken limbs (the picture comes to mind is unpleasant, to say at least). No offense.

What?! Illegal fights?! And Farmer's telling Lewis this as a reason to be proud?! They should be ashamed of themself! Doing... stuff like that. And what would their grandfather say if he knew their grandchild had such a secret? "I don't know, Lewis, what grandpa would say to your secret-" !!! Get out of his house! Hmph, the youth these days...

With each sentence, with each detail in Farmer's story, Marnie's face grew paler and paler. Her imagination was building such shock content over Farmer's story that the rancher asked them to stop. They had a hobby that helped them relax and earn money for living before moving here, that's a good thing. She doesn't need any more details.

"... Look, are you going to buy seeds or not?" Time is money, and Morris doesn't like to waste time listening to all these customer stories. Nor should Farmer tell the Joja general manager at all that they've been involved in some not-so-legal flights. Because Morris was advertising coupons in someone else's store without remorse, so what's to stop him from using that information to blackmail Farmer for the benefit of the mega corporation he's working.

".......Uh-huh." On the one hand, Clint had been stuck with the forge all day, and wouldn't mind chatting with Farmer, a friend and regular customer. On the other hand... What? Okay, he didn't care what they'd done in the past. One topic did interest him though. "You were already popular back then and you must have had a crowd of fans, right? Tell me, do 'wrestlers' like that attract women?" He wasn't desperate enough to get into illegal fighting too, but it was still interesting to hear what they'd say about it.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

I was torn on the song for this one but I think I gotta go with this one >:D enjoy!!

(also taggin the wonderful @doylldonmagar) (this is the soda n dallas guitar fic!!)

Who's creepin' out from under a stairway/ callin' a name that's lighter than air

Dallas pulls a face the second he swings the door open. The Association's Windy is scratchin' on the old record player Dallas had stolen from Buck's 'n swore up 'n down to Darry he'd bought. He didn't go for their lastest album but he couldn't get away from the goddamned thing. Especially since Darry had gotten real fond of it.

Dallas leans back 'n glances at the driveway- empty. Darry's work boots aren't at the door either so Dallas figures he must still be out. He kicks off his own shoes hodge podge 'n throws his jacket over one of the kitchen chairs.

Whose bendin' down to give me a rainbow?

The record player's not where it usually is, thrown open on the kitchen counter where Darry can get to it the easiest. But it was always gettin' moved from place to place. Laundry room, bathroom sink, coffee table, back porch step.

Everyone knows its Windy-

A flat A. A sharp G. An E string wound so tight it sounds like it's about to snap. Dallas cringes hard. Jesus what the hell was that.

He sticks his head through the living room 'n Soda's splayed on the couch, record player propped on the couch cushion beside him. He's got a beat-up, busted, but still fuckin' gorgeous Gibson guitar slung over his lap. Dallas watches him for a moment more to see if he'll look up 'n when he doesn't he leans one shoulder against the door frame 'n lets out a low whistle.

"Holy fuck, Soda. Where'd you get that?" Soda jumps out of his skin, nearly jars the guitar straight onto the floor 'n they both dive for it. Soda catches it by the neck 'n hoists it back onto his knees.

"Jesus, Dally. Give a guy a warnin'. I thought you were a hood or somethin'." But he's grinnin' so Dallas just rolls his eyes 'n drops down onto the sofa beside him. Soda elbows him 'n shifts the record player down to the coffee table. "Though, I guess I wasn't wrong about the hood part."

"Yeah yeah. I dunno if you've noticed lately, but you live in a house full of hoods." Soda winks at him, splits off another toothy smile, 'n sticks his bony elbow into Dallas' ribs again.

"Exactly." Dallas bats him away 'n the guitar pitches dangerously on Soda's squirmin' lap.

"So you gonna tell me what this is about?" Dallas kicks his feet up on the table, the record player skips once 'n cues up Six Man Band which he might have been able to dig if he didn't have to hear it twice a day since the record hit the stores. He groans 'n leans over to turn it off 'n Soda kicks him.

"You can't tell anyone." Dallas raises an eyebrow 'n twists to stare at Soda over his shoulder.

"What, did you steal it? I ain't gonna tell anyone. I'm no rat." He leans over to at least change the song 'n Soda kicks his leg over Dallas' wrist.

"No, I didn't steal it. I bought it. Y'know. Not all of us are hoods." Soda howls at his own joke 'n Dallas yanks his wrist out 'n grabs the neck of the Gibson, whiskin' it away so he can properly sock Soda without riskin' the guitar. Soda giggles, cryin' out indignantly at the attack like he didn't ask for it.

"So why can't I tell anyone? Assumin' you got it by the legal means." Soda wriggles back up on the couch from where he's slid down 'n takes the Gibson back from Dallas.

"I dunno. I dunno how to play yet. I'm tryin' to figure it out still." Dallas rolls his eyes, leans back beside Soda.

"Only you would buy a guitar 'n have no goddamn clue how to play it." Soda strums absently along the strings 'n Dallas flinches. B's too sharp. "Glory Soda I don't think you have a single string in tune."

Soda shoots him a dejected look 'n a little connivin' grin. "How would you know?"

Dallas makes a lil' noncommital sound 'n reaches over, tunin' down the E, up the A. He plucks on the G until it reaches some arbitrary sound Soda doesn't hear. "Try it again."

Soda runs a thumb over the strings again 'n this time they actually sound like they're meant to. He nearly drops the guitar in surprise. "How did you do that?"

Dallas shrugs a shoulder, fiddles with one of the scratches on the fretboard, tryin' to buff it out with his fingers. "Dunno. No reason." Soda narrows his eyes, gets that look on his face he gets when he's he's schemin'.

"Tell me how you knew how to do that or I'll tell Dar about that time you got pissed off at Pony 'n stranded him at the drive-in 'n he got lost 'n we had to go find him." Dallas scowls at him, thinks seriously about crackin' that stupid guitar over his head.

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would." Dallas glares at him.

"I seem to remember a certain someone ditchin' with me, Sodapop Curtis." There was no way he was goin' down for that alone. Soda wiggles his eyebrows, bites his tongue between his teeth.

"You really wanna bet your word against mine when it comes to Ol' Dar?" Dallas' scowl deepens 'n Soda keeps right on grinnin' with every tooth. He really didn't. Darry liked to think he was equally fair with all of them. 'N he was. Mostly. But goddamn if he had to play chips against any of them he wouldn't pick Soda.

"Fine. God Soda you're the worst of us sometimes." Soda sends him a wink 'n Dallas rolls his eyes but can't help his chuckle.

"Y'know you love me."

"Shut up. If you keep runnin' your mouth I ain't gonna tell you anythin'." Soda pouts cartoonishly 'n Dallas shoves him hard, sighs. "I lived in a goddamn bar, Soda. You gotta be useful somehow 'n I wasn't wipin' down no fuckin' tables."

Soda's jaw falls open into a gleeful whoop. "God Dallas," 'N Dallas knows exactly what he's about to say before he even opens his mouth, "you were the entertainment staff!"

"Oh that's it-" Dallas slides the guitar onto the coffee table 'n tackles Soda to the ground in one swift move. Soda hollers 'n dissolves into laughter, not even puttin' up a fight until he's rollin' around on the ground crackin' himself up. Dallas scowls at him, gives him one good kick in the side Soda hardly notices. "I'm not teachin' you anythin' then. You've pissed me off."

Soda snorts, tries to catch his breath 'n rolls up to his knees. "Wait, wait- I'm sorryyy. C'mon. Show me a lil'." He blinks his stupid big eyes 'n Dallas glares at him. He'd never admit it but he understood why Soda could get away with goddamn murder.

"Fine. Sit your ass down. 'N if I ever- ever- hear a word about this I'll cave your fuckin' skull in." Soda hoots 'n clambers back onto the couch. "First of all, you can't start with playin' bull like that." He points one accusin' finger at the record player, now still 'n silent, havin' reached the end of the record.

He pulls it off the turn table 'n shoves it back into its sleeve like it burned him. He fishes around under the coffee table where the rest of the records are 'n resurfaces with The Animals.

"Aw, Dal. Ain't you played that one enough?" Soda wrinkles up his nose 'n Dallas whacks him on the back of his head.

"Shut up. Look. One: it's a good fuckin' song. 'N two: it's easy. You can't start with shit like harmonies. You gotta start with simple riffs." He lines the record up, drops the needle down 'n the openin' notes of House of the Rising Sun hiss out the speakers. "Listen. A minor, C, D, F. A minor, C, E, E. Then the first one again." Soda stops complain' 'n furrows his brow, listenin' hard.

"How do you know that?" Dallas shrugs a shoulder again.

"Listen long enough." He pulls the guitar off the table 'n deftly plays along. "A minor, C, D, F, A minor, E, A minor, E."

The song spins to a close 'n Dallas hands the Gibson to Soda, showin' him where to place his fingers. "Look. I'll strum. Just play the chords." He leans over 'n restarts the song. Soda clumsily manages the first three before he hisses, pulls his fingers away.

"God this shit hurts." His fingertips are already red 'n he sticks them in his mouth like that'll help.

"Yeah, you'll get used to it." He holds his hand out so Soda can see the odd pattern of callouses along the tops of his fingers. Soda eyes him 'n grabs his wrist so he can see better.

"I always wondered where you got those." Dallas shoots him a look 'n pulls his hand back.

"God, Soda, you freak me out with the noticin' shit." Soda had a habit of always pickin' up on the things you thought he didn't 'n noticin' the traits you didn't even know you had.

Soda grins, readjusts the body 'n puts his fingers back on the board. "Guess you're not ready for me to reveal your poker tells?"

"Nah, man, you can tell me those any day."

"Hm, nah, I think I'll hold onto those. Poker's way more fun when I can tell you don't have shit." Dallas scowls but leans back in, shovin' Soda so he can get his arm around the body.

Soda bites his lip, refinds the chords. Loses them again. He stumbles through another verse 'n then lets out an aggravated huff. "I dunno what it's supposed to sound like."

Dallas stops strummin' but doesn't pull away. Instead, he fixes Soda with a stare that could pin him to the wall. "I'm gonna tell you somethin' 'n if I ever hear anythin' about it I will strangle your bum ass 'n throw you in the fuckin' river. Do you hear me?" Soda raises both eyebrows but nods fervently. "It helps if you sing."

For a moment Soda registers pure shock 'n then bites back his smile 'n nods again. "Ok. I swear to God I won't tell anyone, man. Can you...?"

Dallas sighs, squeezes his eyes shut 'n cannot believe he's about to fuckin' do this. "Alright, get you're goddamn fingers on the board." He snaps 'n Soda grins 'n jumps to move. "Ready?"

"Uh-huh." Dallas takes a deep breath 'n stares down at his hand as he starts strummin' again.

"There is a house in New Orleans/ They call the risin' sun-" Soda's head whips up 'n Dallas can see his jaw fall open from the corner of his eye. Dallas can feel the tips of his ears go all red 'n he nods pointedly back at the fretboard. "And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy."

They both lose track of how many times they play the song. Just over 'n over. Only movin' to lift the needle back to the start of the record 'n play it again. It's dark outside, Soda's fingers are cut up 'n marked 'n Dallas' throat aches. "And God, I know, I'm one."

A long, low whistle comes from the doorway 'n both Soda 'n Dallas whip their heads up, necks crackin', spines protestin'. Darry's leanin' against the door in a way that gives Dallas deja vu. "Holy shit. You boys are good." Dallas shoots up, jarrin' Soda so hard he nearly bounces off the couch. Darry grins, double takes the guitar. "Glory Soda, where did you get that?"

[sapphiresaphics]

What I need people who are criticizing media to understand is that things like “marvel humor” and “wokeness” have ALWAYS existed. They are not “new” trends that just came about in recent years.

When I was growing up, what you would call “marvel humor” was just referred to as “Hollywood one-liners.” The term originating from the big blockbuster films that were becoming popular at the time in the late 70’s and early 80’s. Think Star Wars and Die Hard and Indiana Jones.

Films involving “woke” concepts like diversity, black lives, women’s rights, minorities, etc have ALWAYS existed since the dawn of cinema. They didn’t just start existing within the past 10 years. We just never called them “woke” before then.

Like you can go back and watch very GAY films in the 1940’s and 1950’s. They just had to be more subtle about the gayness because it was illegal and there was the Hays Codes which prevented explicit depictions of lgbt+ content. But they existed. They’ve been there since the beginning, because lgbt+ people have always existed too.

What IS new is this concept that filmmakers are deliberately trying to insert their “agenda” into films and that characters are being written for the sake of diversity and not for their merits… which is a VERY right-wing conservative mindset. And, like the vast majority of right-wing bullshit… it’s simply not true.

There’s this thing that happened on the internet around 2012-2014. YouTube changed its algorithm and started prioritizing long form videos. At the same time, right wing authoritarian groups like the KKK and Neo-Nazis began to stop meeting in person and started organizing online. And this resulted in a perfect storm for the proliferation of right wing talking points online, especially on YouTube because it was very easy for these people to just make long videos ranting and spreading their hate and YouTube would slot them into the algorithm.

THIS is where all these negative views about women in media, Mary Sues, Wokeness, DEI, the gay agenda, etc all started to gain MASSIVE momentum.

So when I see people criticizing media by saying “they’re putting their agenda into the film” or saying “it’s full of woke concepts” or “they added this (minority) character for brownie points” you are telling me that you don’t actually have an understanding of how media literacy works and are just parroting right wing talking points.

If you use the term “marvel humor” to describe the existence of ANY joke in a show, you are not a serious person and should not be listened to because “marvel humor” is just the latest attempt to rebrand right wing disgust with having FUN.

There’s a lot more that goes into this, it’s a HUGE topic in and of itself. But I really need you all to understand that if you’re going to try to be critical about a piece of media and you use buzz words and sound byte topics like that, you are signaling to the REST of us that you are a deeply unserious individual who does not understand how to analyze media in any coherent or meaningful way.

[allylikethecat]

More on the carsickness haha bc it’s such a sweet and like niche hc but also like makes so much sense ?? Also because I’m obsessed w atkh at the moment just like probably everyone else who ever stepped foot into ur tumblr page lol. How do you reckon fictional George ends up finding out about it? Bc obviously this fictional Matty is less of a complainer and more likely to like pretend everything is fine ig? I guess it’s just one of those things that he’d notice when they spend more time together?

ALSO. Since I’m here, and you said send asks so you can’t stop me ;)

I have been slacking on my atkh chapter comments and I realised I was sooo taking them for granted SO

Starting from the chapter where he breaks down at fictional! George’s, OH MY GOD ????? Written to perfection and I cried. I feel like it’s just such a good way for it to all happen but also so devastating?! And they fact that he’s finally realising that he was soo wrong about everything So then I’m super glad that they got some time to like- be happy- even if you’re going to crush that for a bit..

And then the chapter w charli and everything was so sweet. Fictional Carly is really just another mini protector

The SLEEPOVER ???? Was definitely NOT too self indulgent from you I ate it up oh my god.

And then the date oml. I love anything w the horses in tbh it all seems so personal and real. And the blushing oml so sweet.

Hope your team win the hockey game ? If that’s still going?

I am going to start off by apologizing for how long this response is I got very excited about your WONDERFUL ask...

IDK maybe I'm just projecting but like Matty, fictional and IRL just gives me "gets carsick vibes" so like he will be getting carsick in all of my fics lol Also thank you SO MUCH for being obsessed with ATKH because I am also very obsessed with ATKH and I am just so excited and so grateful that people are enjoying it and will to chat with me about it because that is what I want to be doing at all times lol I don't know if Fictional!George is ever explicitly going to find out - but if he does its probably going to be in the sense that they're going somewhere that's further away, Fictional!George is driving as always, and it starts out fine, but maybe they hit some stop and go traffic, and it's just taking forever and Fictional!Matty has gotten quieter and quieter, and he's got his forehead pressed against the window and his eyes squeezed shut and he is breathing really heavily and Fictional!George is like what's wrong you're really pale and Fictional!Matty is just like "I need you to pull over as soon as you can because I am going to throw up" and Fictional!George is like 😮 what shit and is scrambling to try and pull over and is just like in awe of how calm Fictional!Matty is about the entire thing and is like why didn't you say anything! But Fictional!Matty is just like I get carsick it's fine and Fictional!George is like THIS iS NOT FINE HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS and next time they go on a roadtrip he's got like water and ginger ale for him and like anti-nausea lollipops and is READY.

No part of me wants to stop you keep the asks coming this is absolute AMAZING and thank you SO MUCH for taking the time to read All the King's Horses I'm just so extremely grateful for everyone who has given it a chance and who has taken the time to chat with me!!

AHHH I'm so happy that you liked the chapter where they really ~talked~ about Fictional!Matty's history, that was one of the very first chapters I saw like fully formed in my mind when I started outlining this fic! It had moments where it was hard to write, but looking back I am happy with how it came out! Fictional!George is very obsessed with Fictional!Matty and that line between love and hate when it comes to obsession is very thin... but yes! They are going to be happy for a little bit 👀

I LOVE Fictional!Charli SO MUCH she is the MVP and the voice of reason in this fic and Fictional!Carly is a compilation of all the fabulous wealthy women who ride at my barn and have adopted me as their like bonus adult child I love them all so much and am so grateful to them and have had so much fun turning them into Fictional!Carly

HEHE I was so excited about the only one bed thing, that is like one of my FAVORITE things and I was so happy and excited to like full send it lol

YAY! I'm so happy that you enjoyed the date chapter! That was another one that was very self indulgent because I NEEDED to get Pop in there - I had to make some major edits to that chapter because I had accidentally made Pop the main character haha he might be the main character in my life but I was like this fic is about Fictional!Matty and Fictional!George not you Pop lol He retaliated IRL today by getting his third eyelid stuck over his eyeball and absolutely freaking me out because he can never NOT be the center of attention lol I was also really amused by how much Fictional!Matty was blushing - part of me worried it was too much but I was also like this fictional man has hardly had anyone do anything truly nice for him just because, ever, in his life, so he is going to be so anxious and embarrassed about it the entire time.

LITERALLY AS I WAS ABOUT TO START TYPING THAT IT WAS IN OVER TIME AND I WAS HORRIBLY STRESSED MY BOYS DID IT MY FAVORITE PLAYER DAVID PASTRNAK FUCKING SCORED IN OVER TIME HE WON THE GAME FOR US WE ARE GOING TO ROUND TWO OF THE STANLEY CUP PLAYOFFS I CANNOT RIGHT NOW OMG LETS GO MY FAVORITE LIL NOODLE!!!!!

❤️❤️❤️ALLY

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[llitchilitchi]

Slovak Miku!

[kamabokobun]

A sculpture I made of my slug fakemon starter :]

[ch1zzie]

The original in the bottom

Plus the picture I mainly drew but decided to draw the rest for funny

[dykedvonte]

Jimmy killing himself because he knows he is incapable of living an life without Curly and knows that in the miracle chance they were found and saved they would not let him have contact with Curly and he hates the idea he'd actually have to take responsibility.

Even if he lied, its only a matter of time before Curly is capable of showing or telling what a monster he really is, no matter what delusions tell Jimmy Curly would never do that to him.

He understands that he was the monster in everyone's worse moments but refused to accept that at the end. So he made sure that he died without the possibility of it being actualized as he's the only one that saw death as an escape rather than a release. Jimmy truly didn't believe Curly had anything to escape from even after everything and let him have what he perceived as glory as the sole survivor and thus Captain of the Tulpar.