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witchingwithscissors · 8 days ago

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Agathario AU | Inspired by a single gif of Aubrey Plaza. No I will not elaborate. Yes it’s gay. Words: 6,678

The road to the community center shimmered under the summer sun, its heat rising in waves that blurred the painted lines. A soft buzz of cicadas stitched the stillness together, interrupted only by the low hum of Agatha Harkness' aging sedan and the occasional, rhythmic flick of the turn signal.

Agatha drove with one hand resting on the wheel, the other draped casually near the open window. Warm air curled across her skin, sticky and familiar. Her blouse clung at the back, and her sunglasses kept sliding down her nose. But she didn’t mind. The mundane discomforts of summer felt almost grounding.

In the back seat, her four-year-old son, Nicky, was deep in conference with his plush frog.

“Froggy says it’s almost time,” he whispered. “We gotta do our big stretches so we can float really good.”

Agatha glanced at him through the rearview mirror, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Float better, sweetheart. Why do you need to float better, hmm?”

“For jellyfish mode,” he said like it was obvious. “Froggy says I need to be wiggly but not too wiggly. Like a calm jelly.”

Agatha smiled, her gaze softening. “Well, remind Froggy to listen to the teacher.”

“He knows already! He said Coach Cool got real superpowers!”

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “Coach… Cool?”

“That’s her secret name!” Nicky said, bouncing. “Her real name is Coach Rio! You forgot, Mommy!”

Agatha made a show of thumping her forehead with her palm. “Of course. How could I forget someone with superpowers?”

Nicky giggled and went back to flipping through his frog-themed sticker book, worn and crinkled from too many car rides.

They turned down a narrow road lined with old oak trees, their branches heavy with green. The scent of sunbaked mulch and chlorine drifted in through the window, unmistakable and sharply nostalgic.

For a moment, Agatha let the quiet settle in. No meetings. No looming deadlines. No hurried errands she didn’t care about. Just her son, his frog, and the slowly dawning truth that she was finally, finally out of excuses to avoid her own life.

She hadn’t dated since Ralph.

Not because of grief. Not exactly.

Ralph had been a partner in the logistical sense: financially steady, reliable, good with diaper changes and Saturday grocery runs. Safe. Predictable. Kind.

But they hadn’t shared a bed after the first year.

Agatha had tried. She’d told herself discomfort was just part of marriage, that maybe intimacy got easier with time. That love was supposed to feel practical.

He knew. Of course he did. She never said the words, but he saw it. In the way she pulled away from touch. The way she overworked. The way she couldn’t meet her own eyes in the mirror.

That she didn’t love him that way. That she was surviving a life she thought she had to want.

And then he died. Suddenly. No warning, no long goodbye.

And the script she’d been clinging to disappeared with him.

And after that—

No more pretending. No more excuses.

She was now 43. Her marketing business ran itself. She paid the bills. She parented well. She laughed when Nicky said ridiculous things like "jellyfish mode."

So what now?

Agatha pulled into the community center parking lot, the building squat and welcoming, its windows steamed from indoor humidity. She killed the engine and turned to Nicky.

“You ready, baby?”

He stuck out his chest. “I’m brave! But Froggy said he’s scared... just a tiny bit.”

“Want me to hold him during class?”

“No! He hasta watch me float really good—uh, I mean bett'r!”

Agatha bit back a grin. “Naturally.”

Inside, the pool area hit them like a wet slap—chlorine-heavy air thick with steam and echoes. Flip-flops slapped on tile, kids shrieked and splashed, and the chaotic energy of childhood swirled through the humid space.

Nicky bolted toward the shallow end, Froggy under one arm like a noble talisman.

Agatha turned to follow and then stopped.

Coach Rio stood poolside, crouched beside a toddler, adjusting goggles with a tenderness that made the moment feel slower somehow. Her dark hair was pulled back into a loose braid, a few damp strands clinging to her temple. Black shorts hugged her strong, sun-bronzed legs, and a red tank top clung to her like a second skin—damp, warm, utterly unbothered.

She looked like summer come to life. Solid. Gorgeous. Effortlessly herself.

When Rio looked up, Agatha forgot how to breathe.

It was the kind of moment people laugh off later, blame on heatstroke... or hormones. But it landed in her chest and felt impossible to ignore.

She was... radiant. Not in the magazine sense. In the way she moved. Grounded. Easy. Like she belonged.

And then she smiled at a child.

Not at Agatha. Not yet. But the way she did it—open, delighted, patient—made something strange and electric bloom behind Agatha’s ribs.

She shook herself and kept walking, head down, too aware of the sweat at her collarbone.

From the bleachers, Agatha watched the class. Watched Rio guide the kids with a steady hand and an easy confidence. She didn’t shout. She didn’t coddle. She crouched when she talked to them. She remembered names.

Nicky floated for three seconds and came up grinning.

“Jellyfish mooooooode!” he shouted.

Rio laughed, rich and full. “That was Olympic-level floating, buddy.”

Agatha folded her arms tighter.

This woman—this stranger—was the cherry on top of an already cracked-open day. And now Agatha was trying not to stare. She wasn’t doing very well.

After class, Nicky ran toward her, soaked and beaming.

“I floated like a real jellyfish! Froggy counted all the way to five!”

Agatha crouched to towel him off. “And Froggy is a very generous judge.”

A shadow passed over them.

“Hey, superstar,” Rio said. “You totally ruled the pool.”

Nicky squeaked and buried his face in Agatha’s side.

Rio offered her hand. “Hi, I’m Rio.”

“Agatha.”

The handshake was warm. Firm. It lingered a second longer than expected.

Rio smiled. “You two new here, or just new to my class?”

“Moved last year. Wanted space.”

“Smart move,” Rio said. Her gaze held steady. “This place is good for that.”

She seemed interested. Present. Like she was choosing this conversation on purpose. And Agatha didn’t know what to do with that.

“You should swing by my other gig sometime. Vidal Swirl. It’s my shop—ice cream, coffee, all that. Nicky would love it.”

Agatha blinked. “Wait. That's a real place, or are you messing with me?”

Rio grinned. “Depends.”

Nicky pulled on her sleeve. “Mommy! Froggy said he need'a popsicle right now!”

“Of course he does.” Agatha looked back at Rio. “We might just take you up on that.”

“Good,” Rio said, a glint in her eye. “I make a scandalous cherry-chocolate crunch. One bite and you’re either in love… or in trouble. Sometimes both.”

Agatha’s mouth curved before she could stop it. “I’ll take my chances.”

She gathered their things, nudged Nicky toward the door, and didn’t look back.

But she felt it—heat lingering at the base of her neck, eyes she didn’t need to see to know.

Rio was still watching.

The next week, the sky broke open. Not a drizzle. A full-throated summer downpour, with sheets of rain hammering the windshield and thunder rumbling like a warning. The kind of storm that made the whole world feel heavier.

Agatha parked with a splash and cursed under her breath as she reached for Nicky's bag, already soaked through from the short dash across the lot.

Inside, the pool area was quieter than usual. Steam curled up from the surface, and the glass ceiling vibrated softly with the sound of raindrops.

Agatha stood near the pool deck this time, arms crossed over her damp linen blouse, her hair frizzing in defiance. Her mood matched the weather. She was watching Rio so intently again.

Rio was in the water, her ponytail soaked, her tank clinging to her back. She floated beside Nicky, gently nudging his noodle into place. Her tone was low and encouraging.

Agatha’s chest ached. That familiar tightness again.

Rio caught her looking. And this time, Agatha didn’t look away.

After class, Nicky skipped from the locker room in mismatched socks and a towel cape.

Agatha reached out, ruffling his damp locks. “You did great today, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I knows,” Nicky said solemnly.

Rio approached, wringing out her ponytail with one hand, a hoodie in the other, and a canvas bag slung over her opposite shoulder—faded denim with a rainbow patch stitched onto the side, fraying slightly at the corners.

“You’ll catch a chill,” she said simply, offering the dry piece of clothing. It smelled like clean cotton and a hint of lavender.

Agatha hesitated. She slipped it on without a word. It was warm. It swallowed her shoulders. It was too much and not enough.

“Much better,” Rio murmured, her eyes skimming Agatha’s face. “You clean up nice—even soaked.”

Agatha didn’t answer. But she smiled.

As Nicky tugged on his sneakers, Rio unzipped her canvas bag—the one with the little rainbow patch Agatha had noticed earlier—and fished around before pulling out a battered paperback. She hesitated, shifted her weight. “Okay, this is probably ridiculous... and maybe I should’ve just stuck with the hoodie, but I brought you something else.”

Agatha blinked, surprised, as Rio offered the book again with a sheepish, almost teasing smile. “You seem like someone who reads at night. Like when your brain won't let you be.”

She scratched the back of her neck. “This one’s about complicated women who make... like bold, occasionally catastrophic choices. I figured… maybe that vibe resonates?” Then, with a glance that didn’t quite meet Agatha’s eyes, “Anyway, if it’s not your thing, no big deal. I just—thought of you.”

Agatha took it carefully and looked down at the cover. 'The Price of Salt.' Her brows lifted.

“Messy and beautiful,” Rio murmured, almost like she was thinking aloud. Then, after a beat, “It meant something to me. Thought you might get something out of it too.”

Agatha stood for a moment longer, hoodie too warm, book in hand, rain still echoing overhead.

And something inside her stirred.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. She didn’t really know what else to say.

Rio nodded, already turning to help another kid zip a too-small backpack. “See you next week, Jellyfish.”

That night, Nicky fell asleep curled against her ribs, one hand still gripping Froggy’s leg. She lay there a long time before slipping out from under him and settling into bed. The hoodie was still on the back of her chair. She pulled it on again.

Next to it, the paperback. She flipped it open and her hand stilled on the page.

She didn’t know what she wanted yet.

Only that something in her life had been paused too long.

And now, perhaps, it was beginning again.

Tuesday afternoon, Agatha lingered in the lobby of the community center, arms crossed, pretending to read the flyers about summer movie nights and free CPR training. But her eyes kept flicking to the glass doors, listening for the sharp squeak of sneakers on polished floors—the sound she’d started waiting for without meaning to.

Nicky came bounding out of the changing room, a puff of chlorine-scented air trailing after him.

“Mommy, I has'a secret. But you can't hear it.” He clutched his stuffed frog dramatically and leaned down to whisper something into its fuzzy ear with a loud, stage-whisper hush.

Agatha crouched and gently tapped his nose. “Is Froggy conspiring again?”

Nicky nodded and skipped off to check out the vending machine selection, narrating a dramatic standoff between chocolate chip cookies and seaweed chips.

Behind him, Rio emerged, her hair damp from the pool. Her white shirt clung in the humidity, and a faint flush had risen to her cheeks. She wore the same ease as always—like her body was something she never second-guessed.

Agatha held out a folded sweatshirt, freshly laundered and faintly scented with morning coffee.

“For you,” she said. “Washed it too.”

Rio grinned, taking it with both hands. “I was hoping you’d keep it.”

Agatha let herself smile back. “I started the book.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m halfway through.”

Rio looked genuinely delighted. “It only gets gayer from here.”

Agatha laughed before she could stop herself. “Good.”

There was a pause. Long enough to feel like it could mean something.

“You’re a quick reader,” Rio said. “That, or it hit a nerve.”

Agatha glanced down. “Maybe both.”

Another pause.

Rio reached for her hoodie slowly, brushing Agatha’s fingers as she folded it over one arm. “Let me know if you want the sequel. It’s sadder. Also gayer.”

“I’ll consider it,” Agatha said, trying to sound light. But her throat was too tight.

Swim lessons became a quiet ritual. Not dramatic, not even intentional, but consistent. Nicky adapted fast, and his joy carried Agatha into a rhythm she hadn’t realized she missed.

Rio gave every kid a nickname—not just Nicky. A tiny redhead girl became “Cannonball Queen.” A shy boy named Henry was “Sea Otter Supreme.” She crouched to their level when she talked. She remembered which kid liked purple goggles and who hated getting their hair wet. She offered high-fives and let them splash her. And she never forced a child to do more than they were ready for.

Agatha watched from the bleachers. Every week, she noticed something new.

The way Rio guided a nervous child’s hand to rest on the water, murmuring, It’ll hold you, I promise.

The way she crouched at poolside—leaning on her elbows, voice low and encouraging, all calm steadiness.

The way she peeled off her shirt on the hotter days—casual, unthinking—revealed a red lifeguard one-piece that clung to her like a second skin. Her arms were strong, defined from weeks of sun and motion, and a soft line of muscle ran down her abdomen, catching the light like something sculpted. Agatha would forget how to breathe, her pulse stuttering like her body hadn’t gotten the memo that it was just swim class.

One afternoon, Agatha reached out absentmindedly to hand Nicky a towel. Rio turned, and her hand brushed Rio’s side. Bare, warm skin.

She froze.

Rio glanced at her, eyes curious.

Agatha stepped back. “Sorry. I wasn’t—sorry.”

Rio smiled, gentle. “You’re okay.”

But Agatha flushed hard, caught off guard.

She glanced away quickly, pretending to focus on Nicky, but her pulse betrayed her—fluttering. Was it embarrassment? Or want? Maybe both. She didn’t look at Rio again for the rest of the lesson, too aware of her own body, too afraid she’d give something away.

That night, Agatha lay awake long after Nicky had fallen asleep. He’d curled up tight with Froggy under one arm, mouth open in his usual toddler snore.

She stared at the ceiling, then reached for the nightstand. 'The Price of Salt' was still there—dog-eared, worn, and heavier now than when she first opened it. One line in particular stared back at her: “She looked at her and something settled.”

Agatha shut the book slowly and got up.

She padded barefoot to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror.

Seconds passed. Then minutes.

She didn’t recognize herself at first: bare shoulders, hair loose, face quiet.

She took a deep breath.

“I’m gay,” she said.

Her voice was low, even. She said it again. And then again, until it didn’t sound like a foreign language.

Later, when she passed Ralph’s photo in the hallway��one where he held baby Nicky, proud and beaming—she stopped. Her breath caught. The hallway was quiet, dim, but the weight of the picture hit her like a wave. She stepped closer, barely breathing, staring at a life she had performed more than lived.

“Ralph,” she whispered, the word crumpling in her mouth.

Her hand reached out, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch the frame. She didn’t feel like she had the right.

“I used you.” The words came out thin, breaking. “I didn’t mean to. God, I... I didn’t mean to. I told myself it was enough. That I was lucky. That I could make it work if I just stayed busy—if I just kept... pretending.”

Her throat tightened.

“You were good to me. You were good to Nicky. Fuck—you gave me Nicky. And I tried to deserve that. I tried to be what you needed. But I was lying the whole time. Not just to you. To me, too.”

Tears welled in her eyes, hot and helpless.

“I wasn’t straight. I never was. And I thought maybe if I married the right man, had the baby, made it all look right on paper… it would fix the part of me that didn’t fit.”

She pressed her knuckles to her mouth. “I didn’t love you the way you deserved. I didn’t know how.”

Silence filled the hallway, thick and aching.

“I hope you knew,” she whispered, her voice barely there. “I hope, somehow, you knew I was trying. Even if it was all wrong.”

She stood there a moment longer, her heart too full and too empty all at once. Then, gently, she flicked off the light and slipped back into bed.

The guilt didn’t vanish. But for the first time, it had a name. And it had been spoken out loud.

Thursday after class, Rio hung back. “Hey, so uh, there’s this cool bookstore downtown,” Rio said, kneeling beside Nicky to help with his backpack. “I do story hour there once a month. I’m reading Saturday.”

She hesitated, then looked up. “You should come. I mean—if you and Nicky are free. It’s pretty sweet, and he’d probably like it. Maybe you too.”

Nicky’s eyes got big. “Is there gonna be snacks?”

“Always,” Rio said with a grin. “And beanbags. And hey, if you guys come, I might just find a cool frog book with your name on it, Jellyman.”

Agatha looked at her for a moment. Really looked. Then nodded slowly. “We’ll be there.”

The bookstore was tucked between a bakery and a florist, its gold-lettered windows slightly fogged from the afternoon heat. Inside, it smelled like espresso, old paper, and something soft and sweet—maybe honey pastries, maybe just comfort. It didn’t feel like a store. It felt like a hug someone had turned into a room.

Agatha hesitated in the doorway, holding Nicky’s hand. Her heart beat a little too loud for something as mundane as story time. But there was Rio already, in her element, greeting the small crowd of kids like a favorite cousin who never outgrew their sense of magic.

The kids' area was tucked in the back corner, framed by rainbow beanbags, pastel rugs, and low shelves filled with picture books that wore their queerness proudly. Julian Is a Mermaid. Red: A Crayon's Story. My Maddy.

Nicky let go of her hand and made a beeline for a basket of books, promptly narrating an imaginary council meeting between amphibian royalty. Froggy, naturally, was presiding.

Agatha drifted to the perimeter, leaning near a shelf of worn-out YA paperbacks. She pretended to browse. In reality, she watched.

Rio sat in a rounded teal chair, one foot tucked beneath her, the other lightly tapping the rug as she turned pages. She wore a faded tank top, the strap slipping off one shoulder, her smile full and easy. Her voice shifted with each character, warm and playful but never cloying. She let the kids interrupt. Let them shout. Let them be who they were.

Nicky perched beside a plush alligator, his mouth open in pure, unfiltered awe.

Agatha felt something pinch behind her eyes. It was the way Rio made space. For everyone. For her.

She hadn't realized she'd started to let herself want that.

When the final page turned, the kids scattered in every direction—some to crayons, others to the snack table. Nicky marched straight to Rio, a picture clutched in both hands.

“Look! It’s me and you and Froggy!” he beamed. “Froggy’s in charge, and he said you hafta eat more sprinkles or else!”

Rio crouched beside him, inspecting the wild scribbles like they were sacred.

“I’ve never looked better,” she said solemnly. “And Froggy looks like he has a lot of opinions.”

“He said, ‘More sprinkles. No excuses.’”

Rio gasped. “The nerve. I’ll fix that immediately.”

From the poetry shelf, Agatha let out a quiet, unguarded laugh. She tried to cover it with a fake cough.

Rio looked over her shoulder, caught Agatha watching, and didn’t look away. She made her way over, unhurried, while Nicky returned to his masterpiece with serious scribbling energy.

She nodded at the book in Agatha’s hand. “That one makes you cry by page twelve.”

Agatha looked down at the cover. “I haven’t even opened it. Just needed something to hold.”

“Same,” Rio said softly.

They stood for a moment in the quiet hum of the store. Music played faintly in the background—something with strings and soft voices. Rio rocked back on her heels.

“I like this place,” Agatha said, because it felt safer than saying something like, I like the way you make this place feel.

Rio grinned. “Same. It’s actually where I figured it out. I was standing over by the graphic novels, flipping through some random teen anthology and boom, lesbian prom kiss. Totally wrecked me.”

Agatha blinked. “You just… knew?”

“Eventually. I kept coming back for that one book. Like if I stared at it long enough, it would tell me something.” She tilted her head. “What about you?”

Agatha hesitated. Her pulse skipped. Her throat tightened around the truth.

Rio’s gaze flicked to Agatha’s hands, then lingered on her mouth—just a second too long to be innocent—before finally meeting her eyes. Her smile was warm, a little teasing. “Take your time. It’s allowed.”

There was a beat of silence. Not awkward. Just charged. Waiting.

Rio reached out, slow and deliberate, and tapped the spine of the book in Agatha’s hands, her touch lingering on Agatha’s fingers. She didn’t pull away right away. Instead, she let the contact hum between them, a quiet question posed without a single word. Her gaze held steady as she let her thumb slide just slightly over Agatha’s knuckle, then finally released the book. It wasn’t just a line tossed—it was an invitation.

“If you ever want a reading buddy… I’m around. I’ve got strong opinions and zero shame.”

Agatha met her gaze, and for once, didn’t flinch.

“Noted,” she said. Her voice was quiet. But steady.

Across the room, Nicky shouted something about Froggy being elected as a reading time mayor.

The moment slipped. But not fully.

Agatha lingered near the poetry display, turning the same slim chapbook over in her hands without registering a single word. Her pulse still thrummed just beneath her skin, and she couldn’t stop replaying the unmistakable openness in Rio’s voice.

It had been a long time since someone looked at her like that. Like they weren’t trying to figure her out but simply inviting her to just... be.

She caught sight of Rio again across the store, crouched beside a small boy who was crying quietly over a snapped crayon. Rio’s voice was low, murmured. She didn’t try to distract him. She listened, then handed him a new crayon. One from her own stash, Agatha guessed. The boy nodded and sniffled and went back to coloring.

Agatha turned back to her shelf. Pretended again to browse. But her heart wouldn’t settle. She wasn’t sure what scared her more: how much she wanted Rio to be serious—or the quiet, terrifying thought that maybe she was.

A few minutes later, Rio drifted back toward her with Nicky’s drawing held carefully in one hand.

“I was told to hang this up in my shop,” she said lightly.

Agatha smiled. “He runs a tight ship.”

“I can tell,” Rio said. Then, softer: “Thanks for coming. You didn’t have to.”

Agatha looked at her. Really looked. Rio's voice wasn't flirtatious now. It was something else. Something steadier.

“I wanted to,” she said. “And I think maybe… I needed to.”

Rio held her gaze for a second longer, her expression open but undeniably charged. Her eyes flicked to Agatha’s mouth again, then lingered this time—an unspoken question, but not a demand. When she looked back up, there was something patient in her smile, something that said: I’ll wait until you’re ready.

Then she gave a small nod.

“Well,” she said, “you know where to find me.”

Agatha huffed a small laugh, the sound soft and surprised.

As Rio turned back to the kids, Agatha felt a shift. A tiny one. But real.

She wasn’t just circling the edge of something anymore. She’d taken a step in.

Vidal Swirl was brighter than Agatha expected. Not trendy, but lived-in—warm wood floors, string lights crisscrossing the ceiling, and a chalkboard menu behind the counter boasting flavors like Blueberry Basil, Cardamom Cream, and the infamous Fire Island Surprise. A tiny pride flag hung beside the tip jar, and one corner of the counter was covered in crayon drawings from local kids.

Nicky smushed his nose against the case. “That one. The white kind. No weirdy things!”

Rio appeared behind the counter wearing a coral tank and a smudge of chocolate on one wrist. She leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, “Not even frog-shaped gummies on top?”

Nicky squinted real hard. “I never eat frogs.”

“Respect,” Rio said, straight-faced. “One vanilla, frog-free, coming up, sir.”

Agatha chuckled, stepping up beside him. “What’s the Fire Island Surprise?”

Rio grinned. “It’s technically edible. That’s all I’ll say.”

She moved behind the counter, and that’s when Agatha noticed it—Nicky’s drawing from the bookstore, taped carefully to the wall near the register.

Agatha raised an eyebrow.

Rio followed her gaze, then blushed—actual color, rising across her cheeks and down her neck. She reached for the scoop, but her voice dropped just slightly. “You, though... I have a surprise for you. Non-fire kind.”

Agatha looked down, smiling helplessly. Her chest felt tight, like her heart was stretching into something bigger than it had ever been allowed to be.

Rio scooped slowly, still watching her.

They settled at a small corner table by the window. When their order was ready—vanilla for Nicky, an affogato for Agatha, and something lavender and gold for someone in line—Rio came around the counter and slid into the seat beside them, stealing a slow spoonful of Agatha’s before she could protest.

“That’s mine,” Agatha said, biting back a smile.

Rio licked the spoon with infuriating calm. “You looked like you might want me to taste.”

“Did I?”

Rio leaned in just slightly, grin crooked. “I was feeling optimistic.”

Agatha stared at her, flustered—but she didn’t pull away. Not this time.

She offered to pay more than once, but Rio waved her off each time. Finally, with a casual flick of her wrist, Rio said, “This one’s on the house. First-time visitor discount.”

Agatha arched a brow. “That a real thing?”

“Absolutely not,” Rio said, deadpan. “But I might need your number... just in case I accidentally overcharge you next time.”

Agatha didn’t look away. Slowly, she reached for a napkin and pulled a pen from her purse.

She handed it over, neat handwriting and something warmer curling at the edges. Her number, written in ink—and just the barest hint of yes.

It was just past eight when Agatha padded barefoot into the kitchen. Nicky was freshly bathed and already asleep, tangled in his sheets with Froggy tucked under one arm and his thumb in his mouth. A soft, steady snore drifted down the hallway.

She poured herself a glass of red wine and leaned against the counter. Her phone sat face down beside her, silent.

She didn’t know what she was waiting for—maybe nothing. Maybe just a quiet moment to breathe, to let her mind drift somewhere it hadn’t dared go in years.

Then the phone buzzed.

Rio: Sooo I might’ve made a mistake.

Agatha blinked. Tapped back.

Agatha: Oh?

A photo came in. Rio, grinning, holding up a pint of ice cream labeled in Sharpie. “Agatha (test batch)”

Below it, scrawled in smaller letters: fig, espresso, dark chocolate, wishful thinking

Rio: Made a new flavor. Was gonna call it something else. But it kept reminding me of you. Ate too much. Now I’m wide awake.

Rio: Any chance you want to come over and distract me? Since you’re already in my head.

Agatha’s brows rose, amused. She typed slowly.

Agatha: You’re offering me insomnia as a treat?

Rio: You wound me up. I’m offering you a private pool and some ice cream with your name on it... literally ;)

Rio: I’ll bring towels. Agatha: Fine. But if I end up wide awake too, that’s on you.

Fifteen minutes later, Agatha knocked softly on the apartment next door. Lilia opened it wearing curlers and a kaftan.

“You’re either about to commit a crime,” she said, “or finally live a little.”

Agatha smiled, sheepish. “Could you come over and keep an ear out for a few hours? He’s already out cold.”

Lilia looked her up and down. “In a swimsuit and shorts at almost nine at night?”

Agatha glanced down at herself, suddenly unsure how to explain what she was doing.

Lilia just waved a hand. “Not my business, honey. Go. And don’t you dare come home early.”

Agatha blushed. “It’s not—”

“It is,” Lilia said firmly. “Let it be.”

She grabbed her keys, locked her door, and headed straight into Agatha’s apartment like she’d been on standby for weeks.

The pool was quiet, the air thick with summer warmth. Soft underwater lights shimmered beneath the surface, and a few delicate string lanterns glowed along the walls—casting golden halos on the water like a dream half-remembered.

Agatha stepped inside and paused.

Rio was floating in the shallow end, half-submerged, her body stretched out with slow, easy grace. The dark straps of her bikini clung to sun-warmed skin, modest by definition, not by effect. Her hair fanned behind her, damp and loose, and moonlight from the skylight kissed the curves of her shoulders, her collarbone, her stomach—soft and glowing with heat and chlorine.

Agatha swallowed. Quietly, deeply.

“Nice of you to dress down,” Agatha murmured.

Rio turned, smile lazy and pleased. “You came.”

“You named a flavor after me.”

Rio swam to the edge, arms resting along the tiles. “It was either that or ask if I could kiss you someday.” Her grin curved, light and teasing. “The pint felt... safer. But maybe not as fun.”

She tilted her head, eyes glinting. “Though next time... I might skip the ice cream.” She smirked. “Might be sweeter ways to spend the night. Fewer calories, too.”

Agatha stepped out of her sandals. Her suit was simple, black, with a low back and a neckline that made her feel more like herself than she had in years. She slipped into the pool slowly, the water cool but welcome. Rio didn’t look away.

“If I stare too long,” Rio murmured, “just remind me I’m still coming down from that pint. Lot of sugar. No self-control.”

Agatha met her gaze. “What if I like it?”

Rio blinked, then smiled. “Then I’ll take my time.”

They drifted in the quiet water, the occasional ripple brushing against their arms. Neither of them spoke at first, and that silence felt comfortable—an extension of the hum between them. Agatha watched the shimmer of moonlight play on Rio’s shoulder. Her eyes followed the line of her collarbone, the soft rise of her chest as she floated. She felt warm, too warm, and not from the water.

Rio tilted her head. “You always this quiet?”

Agatha smiled faintly. “Only when I’m trying to be brave.”

“I like brave,” Rio murmured. Her tone was light, but her gaze—steady and slow—wasn’t teasing anymore.

Agatha let herself drift a little closer. “What if I don’t know how to be brave?”

Rio’s voice was quiet. “Then I’ll wait. But I’ll still flirt. And sneak glances at your ass. Fair warning.”

That earned a surprised laugh from Agatha, breathy and small. She hadn’t felt this alive in years.

“I’m not used to this,” Agatha admitted.

“To what?”

“Someone like you.”

Rio’s brow lifted. “Someone like me?”

“Kind. Funny. Gorgeous. And… actually interested?” Agatha gave a soft huff, self-conscious.

Rio reached forward, fingertips barely brushing Agatha’s wrist beneath the water. “I'm very interested, Agatha. It’s not a trick.”

Agatha met her eyes. “No?”

Rio’s voice softened. “No pressure. I’m just here. In case you want company. Or someone to float with. Or talk to.” She paused, then added with a teasing smile, “Or, you know... maybe make out with. Eventually. If the mood strikes.”

Agatha let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Her lips curved—not quite a smile, but close. She looked at Rio, really looked at her, and the warmth in Rio’s eyes nearly undid her.

“Thank you,” Agatha said quietly.

Then, after a beat, her voice low: “But just so you know… the mood’s getting there.”

They floated together in silence, the moonlight shimmering on the surface like flecks of silver leaf. Agatha’s breathing slowed, her pulse thrumming like distant thunder. She was aware of everything—Rio’s nearness, the soft brush of their legs as they drifted, the way the night seemed to hold its breath around them.

Quietly, Agatha broke the silence with, “I think I’ve always known I was gay. But it felt easier to pretend I wasn’t. To focus on school, or work, or Nicky. To make my life small enough that nothing could shake it.”

Rio treaded water beside her, her expression soft. “You don’t have to explain.”

Agatha reached up, brushing her damp hair from her face. “It wasn’t Ralph. My ex-husband. He was a good man. Kind. But I never let myself want more. Never let myself even imagine this.” She paused. “You make me imagine it.”

Rio’s hand found hers under the water. Not gripping—just touching. Grounding.

“I just—” Agatha looked at her. “It took me longer than I wanted. But I’m here now. And you make me feel…”

Rio waited.

Agatha’s throat bobbed. “Happy.”

Then Agatha reached forward. Her fingers brushed along the edge of Rio’s jaw, slid into the damp silk of her hair, and lingered. She looked at her—really looked at her—and saw the quiet question waiting in her eyes.

So she kissed her.

It was slow at first, tentative. A brush of lips that trembled with withheld longing. But when Rio sighed softly into it, Agatha deepened the kiss, her hand tightening in Rio’s hair. It then became need.

Rio responded with a low hum, a sound that curled around Agatha’s ribs. One hand found her waist, the other rose to cup her cheek, and they pulled each other closer in the water, bodies aligning with the kind of grace that only comes from finally giving in.

When they finally pulled apart, they stayed close with noses brushing and breath mingling. Rio’s eyes were shining, her smile dazed like she couldn’t believe any of this was real.

Agatha whispered, voice catching, “I think I’ve wanted to do that since the first time you said Nicky could be a jellyfish.”

Rio laughed softly, a sound full of joy and disbelief, then kissed her again—gentler, slower—like she was memorizing it. When she pulled back, she rested their foreheads together, eyes fluttering shut.

“You want to split the pint?” she asked, voice thick with affection.

Agatha smiled, her heart too full. “I want to share everything with you.”

They waded to the steps and settled side by side, feet trailing in the warm water. The pint sat between them, melting slightly, passed back and forth as their fingers brushed in a quiet, perfect rhythm.

Each touch lingered. Every glance brimmed with something unspoken and blooming. And each messy spoonful came with a soft laugh, a gentle wipe of a thumb, a kiss that tasted like dark chocolate and something sweeter.

The last swim class of the summer started with Nicky shouting, “It’s my pool now!”

By the end, Coach Rio let him blow the whistle—twice—before she laughed and ran after him with a towel.

Agatha sat on the bleachers, one leg crossed over the other, iced coffee in hand and one of Rio’s hoodies draped over her sundress. It hung loose and lived-in, the sleeves pushed up, the faint scent of lavender and chlorine still clinging to the cuffs. She wasn’t pretending to read flyers today. She was watching them—her two favorite people in the world, wide open and full of light.

Nicky’s giggles echoed around the tiled room as Rio scooped him up like a sack of flour and dunked him gently one last time. He surfaced shrieking with laughter, goggles askew.

“Okay, Jellyfish,” Rio said. “Let’s towel off before you flood the lobby.”

Nicky burst through the double doors a few minutes later, soggy and radiant.

“Mommy, Mommy! I did the big float all by myself!” Nicky shouted, slipping a little on the tile and catching himself like a superhero. “AND Froggy says I get a popsicle and root beer. Both!”

“Did he now?” Agatha said, standing to brush imaginary lint from her lap. “We’ll see.”

Behind him, Rio appeared with a towel slung over one shoulder, damp hair clinging to her cheeks. Her shirt stuck in places Agatha now knew by heart. She lit up when she spotted Agatha in the hoodie.

“You wear it better than I do,” Rio said, voice soft and playful as she stepped closer.

Agatha smiled, slow and sure. “I know.”

Rio laughed under her breath, like she couldn’t help it—and maybe didn’t want to.

They hadn’t made a big deal out of it. But sometime between the first kiss and the first time Agatha stayed the night, this part—the ease of it—had started to settle in. Like joy didn’t always have to be new to feel overwhelming.

Nicky tugged on Agatha’s sleeve. “We still goin’ to the movies, Mommy? You promised.”

“Yep,” Rio said with a wink. “Popcorn and root beer—my treat, little man.”

They stepped out into the heat—sunlight pooling on the sidewalk, the soft smell of sunscreen and cut grass drifting through the air. Behind them, Rio locked the center doors, then glanced sideways.

Agatha caught her looking at Nicky—just ahead, swinging Froggy by the leg, humming to himself.

She reached out and took Rio’s hand.

“I want this forever,” she said, barely above a whisper.

Rio didn’t miss a beat. She just squeezed her hand, steady and sure. “You’ve got it, babe.”

As they walked toward the car, Agatha slowed. She turned back toward the pool doors—the glass still fogged, her reflection faint and layered over memory. She glanced down at the hoodie sleeves bunched at her wrists. Her hands looked the same. But now she saw them for what they were—capable. Chosen. Free.

She let out a breath. It caught for a moment—like it had to climb its way through years of silence—but then it came. And with it, a quiet smile.

Not long ago, she’d stood in that same lobby, wondering if she’d missed her chance to live honestly. To be loved fully. To love in return.

But now—

Now Rio’s hand was warm in hers. Nicky’s laughter echoed down the sidewalk. And Agatha knew, deep in her bones, that she wasn’t lost.

The water hadn’t changed.

But she had.

She wasn’t drifting anymore.

And as they reached the car, the line came back to her—dog-eared and underlined, from a book she hadn’t meant to finish so quickly: “She looked at her, and something settled.”

It had. Quietly, completely, and without question.

#Agatha x Ralph #<- I’m fucking messing with you #I just needed Ralph for plot point #agatha all along #agathario #agathario au #agatha harkness #rio vidal #modern domestic agathario makes me asdfghjkl #agathario fic

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deminetly · 4 months ago

Note

PLSPLS tell us about the dates you scripted with your s/o!! i’d love to know

ᰔ DATES ME AND MY S/O GO ON IN MY BETTER CR

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

night walks and car rides

swimming at night

looking for fairies at our local forest

thrifting (silly outfits) for each other

randonauticaing

just meditating together

playing with lps and sylvian families

making and shifting to drs together

watching documentaries and taking notes together

feeding birds

picking up trash to save the planet

running

arts and crafts

bug/snail hunting

silly photoshoots

watching sunrises and sunsets

getting drunk at trampoline parks

pretending to be crazy in public

travelling together

taking random busses and trains

getting matching nails, hair and outfits

him teaching me to skate

him teaching me to play guitar

exploring (abandoned) places

museum dates

him giving me massages

spa days at home

watching and analysing movies, books and shows (and the characters)

sneaking to places we shouldnt be at (roofs, house parties, etc)

thrift and have a fashion show later

talking to random people finding new friends

volunteering

people watching

learning a language together

stargazing

24h without phones (we so this once a week)

talking to strangers (possibly interviewing them, then analyzing the answers)

pretending to podcast

building random things from snow (like a trash can)

taking uquizzes together

extreme truth or dare in public

thrifting baby clothes (even though neither of us want children)

buying or making matching plushies

making silly tiktok/youtube vlogs together

him teaching me to drive

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skinks · 3 months ago

Text

well, the thing is, I’m not around on tumblr much lately because I’ve been nonstop sleeping with my 50yo coworker. it’s true I’ve been fucking that old man. I am bisexual it’s confirmed. He’s got big hands, a truly huge dick, a sexy sport motorbike and he’s goofy. He gets a little silly with it. Like, he is not above a little clowning. I told him his skinny little ass looks good on his motorbike and one time I was driving behind him as we went to his place after work, when he checked I was there, stood up outta the pegs and wiggled his butt at me as he rides. You know I had to honk my horn. When he kisses my neck I go into one of those crazy trances like I’m experiencing something spooky in a megachurch. But I’m like. Moaning twitching squeaking leaking etc. Folks — the dick is gigantic. He’s got a couple of janky teeth and one missing, so I keep pulling at his mouth like he’s a horse so I can see them, which makes him so red and shy and giggly I have to shake him for being so cute. Fucking abominable. Fucking coworkers to friends to lovers ass bullshit. Showed me photos of himself in the 90s when he was a skinny little rave punk with bright green hair. He is turned on by me having big muscles and body hair and he made out with my hairy pit. He’s got the tism and all his kitchen cupboards are organised to an insane degree. He kept showing me his stacks of the same cereal boxes organised by colour and sheepishly saying “I’ve got issues” meanwhile I’m barely stopping myself from throwing him over my shoulder like a cavewoman. One of our coworkers wrote our names in a loveheart in chalk in the car park. He eats his little satsumas at lunch by gnawing the skin off in a long strip which he then pulls out whole, from deep in his mouth, like a clown pulling out a handkerchief, and this gets me hot for some reason. Probably because him chowing down on some fruit makes me think of how he eats pussy (relentlessly, enthusiastically).

Hairy hairy chest and stomach and forearms. Rangy. Wiry. Vascular forearms. Big big hands. Big nose he hates but I love so I kiss it. He holds me so very tenderly and only ever wants to do what will make me happy. Calls me his sweet little limpet. We ended up naked on his living room rug one time and he tickled my sides, made me jerk and squash his balls accidentally. He bought me a beautiful giant book about film as a housewarming present, before I had even mustered up the courage to ask him if he liked me the way I liked him. This week I asked him what one of his favourite movies was and he, thinking I maybe wouldn’t know it but wanting to be honest, said Ferris Bueller’s Day Off was one he’s seen thousands of times. I laughed incredulous because it’s one of my comfort faves I’ve seen another thousand times, so we watched it again and we knew the whole script, so he took me to bed because I wasn’t just humouring him and he’s been lonely for the last 10 years and after some tittyfucking and hand stuff, we fell asleep and snored on each other. Then we go to work and hold hands at break, so it’s nice. And that’s what you missed on glee

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elordilover · 1 year ago

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Hi!

Could you write a Walker Scobell x Actress Reader where she is anxious for her upcoming audition and he's helping her through it and helping her practice her lines and such?

Thank you so much! I love your writing <3

i love this! thanks for the request!! ♥️

the audition

pairing: walker scobell x fem! actress! reader

summary: you are getting ready for an audition, your boyfriend walker helps you through your anxiety

warnings: none! not proofread, just fluff! oh and some anxiety

————————————————————————

you had been practicing for your audition all day. running over lines and blocking to make sure you got this role. tomorrow was the day you were waiting for, your audition for a character in heartstopper season 3. you were going to be auditioning for one of nick nelson's relatives.

all the stress had finally come over after many many hours of rehearsing lines. every time you messed up on a line you got super stressed and overwhelmed. you only knew one person who could fully understand what you are going through, and help you through it.

you grabbed your phone off your bed and instantly call him, your boyfriend walker. He had been through many auditions and could help you with this stress and pressure.

"hey baby", his voice flooded your ears. he picked up after the first ring

"hi walk", you responded, hoping he wasn't in the middle of his family dinner, since is was 6:34 pm.

"baby? what's wrong?" he sounded concerned.

"I'm okay, just a little anxious for my audition tomorrow", you told him.

"ohhh", he hummed, "do you want to come and eat dinner with me and my family then we can practice?'

he knew how to make you blush. he knew exactly how to make you smile after a hard day. "yeah! ill be at your house in like 25 minutes", you told him, already feeling better.

"okay, see you soon, i love you!!" he said, sounding excited.

"i love you!!", you said as you hung up, grabbed your script and went outside to the car.

----------

walker immediately hugged you when you parked at his families house, "hey baby", he said.

"hey bubs", you cooed back to him.

"my mom is making some dinner right now, then after i want to practice with you", he said while holding your hand and leading you to the dining room

"Y/N!!", you heard leena yell. "leena!!" you yelled back as you hugged her, you missed her.

you sat and ate with the scobell family, they provided you so much happiness in a time of worry.

-----------

after everyone finished eating walker grabbed your hand and led you up to his room. you pulled out your script and handed it to walker.

"okay heres how we are gonna do this, if you get a line right, i give you a kiss", walker told you as he opened up the script book and turned to the page you were reading for tomorrow.

"okayyyy i guess that will work", you replied. you really wanted to get these lines correct now.

"first line, you ready?', he asked as you nodded in response. "hey guys! how are you?", walker said, imitating how it would be said on screen.

"so good, i'm amazing!", you replied back with a happy tone.

"correct. one kiss", walker said as he leaned in and gave you a quick peck on the lips.

this went on for about an hour and a half, you had acquired 27 kisses from your sweet boyfriend.

----------

"i'm really starting to get nervous for tomorrow", you told him.

"you are going to do wonderful, i promise!", he responded cheerfully.

"but you're just saying that to make me feel better", you could feel your heartbeat become faster.

"Y/N, i promise, you are the most beautiful, kind, talented, amazing, loving person i know-

"walker stop"

"no i could go on" he said as you leaped into his arms and gave him a kiss on his cheek. you were the luckiest girl.

"i love you so so so much", you said, you didn't have any words to truly describe your love for him.

"no i love you more Y/N, you are going to do so good tomorrow, they are going to love you", he told you as he swayed back and forth with you in his arms. "and even if you don't get the role, i still love you, and there are so many other roles that are perfect for you".

"i love you so so so much walker, more than you know", you said as he picked you up and spined you around. "thank you bubs"

----------

you woke up to a text from walker saying how proud of you he was, and how he loved you. you quickly sent a response and started getting ready for the audition.

----------

you showed up and your nerves came flooding back, seeing the director, casting director, etc scared you.

it was finally the time to audition, you thought you did pretty well and was excited for next week, which was when you would know if you got the role.

you texted walker again, telling him you were done. he replied saying that he was proud of you and wanted to hang out as soon as possible.

---------

you were with walker, it had been about a week since your audition, you were a little nervous but mostly excited.

your phone rang with a number you weren't familiar with.

"baby. wait is this it?", walker asked while looking at your phone.

"i think it is", you replied while answering the call.

"hello, is this Y/N?", you heard.

"yes! this is her!"

"we would just like to congratulate you on your role in heartstopper season 3!!! we just emailed you more information and everything you need to know. we are so excited to work with you!"

you quickly responded and hung up the phone, then turned to your boyfriend, who looked nervous.

"walker! i got the role!"

"oh my god! im so proud of you baby", he said as he engulfed you in his arms. you were so happy. one to have this loving boyfriend by your side. two to get to be able to be a part of this wonderful project.

—————

i am so excited to announce my role in heartsopper season three! i am so thankful for everyone that has helped me with this process! i love you all! i feel so honored! 🍂🏳️‍🌈♥️

walkerscobell- yay! so happy for you!

y/nfan-OMG?!?

kitconnor- so excited to work with you!

joelocke- yayyyyyyyyy

y/nfan13- my two fav things!!!!!

heartstopper- 🍂🍂🍂

————————————————————————

taglist 🏷️ @izzystylinson @saltnseas @platypusbearrr @lilly-andreas123

(hopefully that works)

requests are open!!

thanks so much for reading!! likes and reblogs are appreciated!

🍂🫀🫶🏻🫒🎀🌚🧦🦋💟🐝🪷🌍🌈🫐🐞

#walker scobell x reader #writing #walker scobell fanfiction #walker scobell fic #walker scobell x you #scobell #walker #walker scobell fluff #x reader #walker scobell fic rec #walker scobell sweet #walker scobell percy jackson #walker scobell #walker scobell x actress

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pitchsidestories · 1 year ago

Text

part of me wants forever II Sara Doorsoun x Barça!Reader

masterlist I word count: 1672

a/n: hi, it's inspired by this request here, we hope the time jumps aren't too confusing. Let us know what you thought of the oneshot.

This was how it all begun. You didn’t expect your love story to start on an ice-cold evening in November after your team has played a Champions League group stage game against Eintracht Frankfurt, but it did.

“Sara, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Sara.”, Ingrid introduced you to each other, her eyes were shining as the stars above you in the night sky. Maybe it was written somewhere up there, what would be happening in the following days, weeks and months.

You knew the person you fell for would say that it was fate which brought you two together. But for you it was Ingrid who did.

“Hi, Sara, nice to meet you.”, you greeted her smiling.

“Nice to meet you too.”, the older defender replied. The brown eyes who wee looking back at you were so beautiful like the person to whom they belonged too, they were something you could get lost into if this wasn’t an away game and you’d have to leave soon to the hotel you were staying at.

“You guys played really well.”, you complimented Sara in an honest tone. It was true, especially in the first half they had a stellar performance, in which Laura Freigang scored the opening goal, but in the second half your team turned it around and you won fairly comfortably with a 3:1.

“Thank you. So did you.. obviously.”, the german player answered with an amused grin on her lips.

“Y/n, we got to hurry up!”, Mapi reminded you impatiently.

“Don’t worry, Mapi. I’m coming.”, you reassured her, trying to shake off her fingers on the hood of your jacket.

“See you soon.”, Sara waved at you.

“I literally can’t wait.”, you told her. Even though you only shared some polite words with each other you had a feeling that this wasn’t the end of your script together.

On the next day your team was on the way home, the bus taking you from the Barcelona airport to the place where your cars have been parked.

“Y/n?”, Ingrid looked up from her phone to turn her attention towards you who was sitting on the seats opposite of Mapi and her.

“Yes?”, you responded, lifting your gaze from the book you were currently reading.

“Sara messaged me.”, the Norwegian informed you, wearing a mischievous smile on her face.

“You mean Sara as in the cute Frankfurt defender.”, you replied innocently.

“Who else, genius!”, Fridolina laughed, sitting right behind you, she and Ingrid had to play with the player during their times in Wolfsburg.

“Do you know how many Sara’s there are?!”, you asked the Swedish player.

“Yes, but none of them looked at you the way she did. So, what was in Sara’s message, Ingrid?”, Fridolina stated.

Ingrids face split into a wide grin as she read the message on her phone screen: “She asked for her number.“

“You know what? You can give her my number.“, you said in a burst of courage that made Ingrid only smile brighter.

“I’ll.“

“Thank you.“

You watched the Norwegian type on her phone. “You’re welcome.“

Sara had immediately texted you that night. And as the months had passed, texting her became a daily habit for you. From good morning to good night, you shared your free-time with her. You haven’t felt that connected with someone for a long time.

One day you decided to jokingly text her about your shared taste in music, not expecting anything from it.

“Fletcher has a concert in Barcelona. You should come with us, Sara.“

“To a Fletcher concert?“, she wrote back, seemingly unimpressed.

“Yes, Jana got tickets.“, you answered.

You waited impatiently, the three dots appearing as she typed.

“I can’t say no to that.“, appeared on your phone screen.

You smiled happily: “Perfect.“

A few weeks after your text conversation, you found yourself at the concert, singing along while Sara had her arms wrapped around you. It was a casual gesture as you swayed from side to side with the rhythm.

Jana rolled her eyes: “Ugh, stop, you two lovebirds!“

“We’re doing nothing!“, you laughed, full of innocence.

“Literally.“, Sara agreed, continuing to move you with her.

Jana pulled out her phone: “Wait, let me at least take a picture of how annoying you two are.“

She snapped a few photos, a fond smirk on her face. You turned your attention back to the singer. This night was perfect and you wanted to enjoy every moment of it.

The Fletcher concert was something you liked to think back to during your busy football season.

The same was true for the biggest game of the season, the Champions League final. As expected, it was a tight game, Lyon made it hard to get through their defense. Only Aitana and Alexia found a way. So when the final whistle sounded, you were overcome with a mix of relief and happiness.

You hugged your teammates tightly, still processing what you had just achieved when Ingrid tapped you on the shoulder and pointed towards the stands. “Y/n, look who came.“

You only blinked at her for a moment before your gaze finally followed the direction of her hand gesture.

Saras face grinned at you from the stands. The sight of her was enough to make your heart pound in your chest.

You left Ingrid standing and ran over to Sara, stopping right in front of the Frankfurt defender: “Sara, I thought you couldn’t be here?!“

She only flashed you a wry smile: “Change of plans.“

“That’s amazing.”, you muttered, exchanging a short, but soft kiss with your girlfriend.

“You’re welcome.”, Sara smirked at you, as she wrapped her arms around you into a hug.

Mirroring the happiness Laura Feiersinger appeared next to her former Frankfurt teammate:” I almost lost her at the place when they sold the cake.”

“Very typical.”, you giggled, it was no secret that your lover has a sweet tooth.

Nervously Sara put a loose string of hair behind her ear:” That’s not true.”

“Sure.”, the Austrian midfielder smiled amusedly.

“It just looked so delicious.”, the German player defended herself, while a blush crept onto her high cheekbones.

“To be fair it did.”, Laura admitted.

“See?”, Sara responded satisfied.

“Well, I do.”, you tuned into their conversation, before your girlfriend kissed you, to celebrate the Champions League win properly.

Having Sara with you during all the chaos which was going on in the night was very special to you. In the morning you two chose to go on a walk to see a bit of the city. It amazed you to watch your girlfriend being so in peace with herself.

The defender was a warm person and over the weeks you’ve been together she started to share some pieces of herself and her history which you found admirable. Her late coming out, a father who wasn’t saying anything against that, but also didn’t like to talk about it anymore.

The heartbreak Sara felt when the first woman she fell for broke up with her. It impacted her so much that during an important game she scored an own goal. And her questioning if she could ever fall in love like that again? The German player knew the answer now, she was capable of loving again, you showed her how.

Fast forward and it was time to be with your national teams again, you both couldn’t wait for the upcoming free days afterwards which you planned to spend together.

“Sara, we got to talk.”, Lena Oberdorf yelled at the older woman who just sat down with Felicitas Rauch in the dining room of the hotel they were staying at.

“About what?”, Sara frowned who didn’t know her best friend in the team knew what the young midfielder was thinking about.

“I was suspecting you fell in love again, but now Obi found proof of it multiple ones.”, the fellow defender who played in the USA explained with a cheeky smile on her lips.

“What are you talking about?”, the Frankfurt player asked her teammates innocently.

“You and y/n, who football wise is so out of your league.”, Lena replied grinning.

“Beauty wise too.”, Felicitas added in a teasingly tone.

“Excuse me? That’s not what friends are supposed to say.”, Sara protested, her mouth formed to a little pout.

Felicitas smiled apologetically: “Just kidding… but playing wise not. She’s at the best football club in Europe!“

“And she and her team won against you this season. Twice.“, Lena added, rubbing salt into the wound.

“I’m aware of that.“, Sara shrugged unimpressed.

“Just a friendly reminder.“, Lena said.

Sara rolled her eyes: “That doesn’t mean we can’t go out.“

“True. I guess she’s the reason you can’t visit me in the US in your free time?“, Felicitas asked, casually changing the subject.

“That’s not true! You’re always busy!“, Sara protested.

Her best friend raised her eyebrows: “So are you apparently!“

“It’s not because of her. I’m still a football player.“, Sara explained, cringing at the thought of how packed both of their schedules were.

“I know that. So when will you introduce me to her?“, Felicitas continued.

Sara only groaned in response.

In the evening, you were on the phone with Sara as she recounted the details of the talk she had with her teammates.

“So they know about us now?“, you concluded, a smile on your lips.

“Yes, apparently we’re on Ingrids photo dump.“, Sara replied with a laugh.

You shook your head about your Norwegian teammate: “Ingrid might have done that on purpose. Sorry for that.“

“Typical.“, Sara sighed, slight fondness for her former teammate sneaking into her voice.

“She said she had a feeling when she introduced us and I believe her.“

“There’s no way!“

You sucked in your breath in feigned shock: “And I thought you were the romantic!“

“Oh, I am. I just like to think that it was fate.“, Sara replied. You could almost hear the wink through the phone.

Lowering your voice, you whispered: “Me too. I want this to be forever.“

pictures are from pinterest.

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whimsiwitchy · 1 year ago

Text

I hear the secrets that you keep (series)

chapter three: you make me nervous

Pedro Pascal x F!reader

series masterlist

series summary: 24 year old y/n is an insecure and struggling actress in Los Angeles until she finally books a leading role in a big Hollywood movie next to her leading male, Pedro Pascal. A spark of friendship flickers between the two and slowly begins to blossom into something more. As y/n is navigating a new found fame and a new found romance, she fears that a lie she has been sitting on might ruin everything.

Warnings: plus size reader (no specific description of reader, slight descriptions of weight: stomach fat, stretch marks, etc.), hefty age gap (24 years/14 years), female anatomy description, she/her pronouns, use of gendered terms (girl, girly, etc.), y/n used, descriptions of nudity, swearing, use of the word fat, warnings may change as the story progresses.

authors note: Hi everyone. I just posted chapter two a few hours ago but my mind was buzzing with ideas lol. This chapter has a lot of awkward energy so I apologize in advance. Enjoy <3

chapter summary: y/n attends the table read for Risky Disco and gets to know Pedro.

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The week leading up to the table read seemed to drag on. Even though you kept yourself busy, it was like every time you looked at a clock, it ticked slower and slower. You were somewhat grateful for the delay as it gave you more time to prepare yourself for your first day working on Risky Disco. Not only did it delay your first day of work, it also delayed having to see Pedro again. You felt so silly. One ten minute interaction was invading your entire nervous system. To prepare yourself to see him again, you started watching interviews and clips of him acting. You wanted to know what his personality was like so you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself when you two are bound to cross paths fairly soon. Whenever you weren’t working your server job, you were reading through your script or watching videos on Pedro. You felt kind of weird finding out things about him when he would know nothing about you, but hey that’s the price of fame right? People knowing things about someone without that person knowing anything about them.

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The table read was set to start at 9am. So naturally, you were up at 5am to get ready for the day. You took a quick shower and started to decide what to wear. Trying to keep comfort in mind, you scanned your closet for an outfit. Table reads usually include a lot of sitting so you knew you didn’t want to wear anything too tight around your stomach. You hated when you sat and your jeans would dig into your stomach or when your ‘baggy’ jeans tightened around your thigh when it flattened against whatever you were sitting on. You really wanted to look as cute as possible though, for yourself of course, not for anyone else…

You decided to wear a pair of sheer black pantyhose, with black shorts pulled over them, accompanied by a simple black v neck long sleeve shirt. For shoes you wore your trusty pair of classic docs. Once you were dressed, you worked on your hair and makeup, keeping it fairly simple. Looking at the time, it was now 7am. You made a quick breakfast and drank a cup of coffee. After you finished eating, you grabbed a tote bag and filled it with all of your essentials: your script, chapstick, lipstick, perfume, deodorant, and wallet. You then filled up your reusable water bottle, grabbed your keys and made your way out of the door.

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The table read was taking place in the same building as the audition, making it a lot easier to find where to go and park. After parking your car, it was 8:30. You decided to go ahead and go inside. When you walked in, you spoke to a receptionist who told you what room to go to. As you neared the room, you realized that you were the first person here and for some reason that was embarrassing for you. Instead of going in, you lingered near the door and tried to look busy on your phone. After five minutes of opening and closing different apps, you heard someone walking down the hallway. You kept your head down and pretended to text someone so you didn’t look like such a loser.

“Hey, y/n right?”

Your entire body tensed up, you know that voice. You know that voice a little too well after all of your ‘research’.

“I’m Pedro, I read lines with you during your audition.” You finally looked up and you almost let out a gasp. He was wearing a pair of light denim jeans, a basic black t-shirt, and a leather jacket. You let your eyes meet his and you saw that he also sported a baseball style cap with a pair of glasses. In conclusion, he looked good. Too fucking good.

“Oh yeah that’s me. Hi, it’s nice to actually meet you.” You let out the words better than you thought you would. He gives you a smile and raises his hand to offer a handshake. You reach out and latch your hand to his. His hand was soft yet rough at the same time and it engulfed yours in a perfect way. You both let go and stand in silence for a moment.

“So, just us so far?” he asked as he looked around. “Yea, I guess so. I feel like such a weenie getting here so early.” You cringed at your choice of words but Pedro let out a laugh. “Well, I definitely wouldn’t say you're a weenie.” he said with emphasis on the word ‘weenie’. “You’re professional, early is good.” You gave him a thankful smile. “I had this theater teacher that would hound us for not being on time. She would always say ‘early is on time and- ""-and on time is late.” he finishes the phrase for you and the two of you both let out a small laugh. “You hear that a lot in the acting world. Yet no one seems to follow it.” He says while looked down at his phone to check the time.

Silence falls over you two and you start fidgeting with your fingers as a distraction. “Hey, why don’t we go ahead and sit down. We can show off our skills of being on time to all of the late weenies.” He smiles and you laugh at his use of weenie again. Pedro opens the door for you and you let out a quick thank you. As you walk in, you see a large table with name tags in front of each chair. You glance around the table, searching for your name. Once you found it, you made your way to your chair and Pedro took a seat right next to you.

He was so close to you and it was too intense. First he comes in looking like sex on legs, now he’s sitting only a few inches away from you. He smells so good. You wish you could just- “You don’t walk much do you?” he asked as he turned to look at you. You do the same. “Sorry, I don’t want you to think I don’t want to talk to you. I do. I just get weird around new people and don’t really know how to act and I just have horrible people skills in general sometimes. You also kind of make me really nervous.” You shut up and quickly turn to face forward with a blush on your face. “I make you nervous?” He asked. You gave him a quick glance and saw that he had that stupid smirk on his face. You actually can’t believe you just said that out loud. You had never been someone who got the nervous rambles. You usually just give a short answer and keep quiet. You were so humiliated it was unbearable. Luckily, the room began to fill up with other actors and crew members. You felt Pedro shift beside you and your leg started bouncing out of nervous habit.

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The table read was surprisingly uneventful. You had been nervous to read lines back and forth with Pedro but somehow your mind locks in when it’s time to act. You could still feel the intensity, especially when it came to the scene that led up to the steamy moment between the main characters. You just ignored the butterflies and kept reading.

Once it was over, the director gave a little speech and the crew gave us a few notices. Letting everyone know to check their emails frequently for any changes made to the schedule. As soon as they released everyone for the day, you gathered your things and began to make the walk back to your car. Just as you were grabbing your door handle, you heard your name being called. When you looked up Pedro was jogging over to you. “Hi.” He said as he stopped in front of you. “Uhh hi.” You said awkwardly, still embarrassed from earlier. “Would you maybe want to hang out, get to know each other a little bit? We’ll be spending a lot of time together on screen and I would love to get to know you outside of filming and stuff.” All you could do is stand there and look at him. “I’ll try my best not to make you nervous.” He teased as he smiled brightly at you awaiting an answer. “If I agree to this, you have to promise to not make me nervous.” You held your pinky up and he linked his with yours, locking in his promise. You both dropped your hands. “So uh, what do you want to do?” “I honestly didn’t think that far ahead, I was just trying to catch you before you left.” You look down at the ground and think. “I mean you could come to my place. It’s small and there’s not much to do but we can just hang around and talk I guess…” You trail off at the end looking up at him. “Yea that sounds perfect.” There's a pause… “Uh, do you want me to give you my address or something?” “Oh yea here, let me give you my number so you can send it to me.” You pull out your phone and go to create a new contact. You hand your phone to him and he types in his number. When he hands it back, you notice that he set his contact name to ‘Pedro :)’. You smiled a little and opened the message app and sent him your address. “I just sent it. Did you get it?” He grabs his phone out of his pocket. “Yea I got it.” another pause… “Uh okay cool well, I’ll see you there I guess.” “Yea see you there.” He smiles. “Just text me or something when you get there so you don’t get lost in my apartment complex.”

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When you got home and hadn’t received a text from Pedro yet, you ran inside and quickly cleaned up as much as you could and sprayed some air freshener.

‘I’m here :)’

Shit. You checked your appearance in the mirror before running out of the door and down to the parking lot. When you saw him, you started rethinking your entire life that led up to this point. What did you do to deserve having a sexy ass man want to hang out and get to know you?? I mean it’s for work purposes but still, it counts in your head as something more. You saw him get out of his car and make his way over to you. “Hi, um, follow me.” God why did you have to be so weird. “Okie dokie, lead the way.”. Once the two of you reached your apartment, you opened the door and walked inside. “You can take your shoes off if you want, I don’t really care but if you’d be more comfortable you can.” You look at him and he’s smiling at you. “Sorry, I don’t know why I keep rambling.”. You sigh and usher him to follow you to the living room. He takes off his jacket and hat. The sight of his biceps in that tight ass black shirt almost has you drooling. You try to collect yourself as quickly as possible before he notices anything. You take off your doc martens and plop down on the couch. You pat the couch and he sits on the other end. This is so fucking awkward oh my god.

“Do you want anything to drink or something?”.

“No it’s okay, thank you though.”

“No problemo.”

Silence..

“Is there anything specific you want to know or um..” You look at him and quickly look away. “Sorry I'm really not good at meeting new people and being myself.” Your leg starts to bounce. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m the one who should be sorry. You told me you had trouble with new people and I sprung this on you.” His eyes move around the room. “You don’t have to be sorry. I promise I want to get to know you too, I just don’t really know how to do that.”

He thinks for a moment.

“How about we start with what we already know about each other, then we can ask each other questions based on that? Sound good?” You nod.

“I can go first. I know your name is y/n. I also know that you’re 35 and that you’re an actress.” You squint your eyebrows together. 35? Where the hell did he get that from? You think for a moment.. Oh fuck. You completely forgot that Angie said you were 35 to get the audition.

“Oh um yeah. Well I know your name is Pedro, I think you’re 49 but I’m honestly not that sure, and I also know that you’re an actor.” oh yea totally believable that you didn’t know this man's age by adding an ‘I think’ super smooth…

“How long have you been acting?”

“Well I moved here like six years ago, almost seven at this point. I did some theater in high school. So however long that is. This is my first big role though.” “That’s surprising.” “What is?” “That this is your first big role.” “Why do you say that?” “Sweetheart, your audition was incredible. You were a natural.”

Sweetheart

“Oh um thank you. I’d like to think I’m good.” “You are good.” He sets his hand on your thigh and squeezes as he speaks and immediately retracts his hand. You can still feel the warmth of his quick touch and the spot tingles. Your heart is beating at an unhealthy speed. You look down at your thigh and back to his stupid handsome smiling face.

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The two of you continued to talk and get to know each other. You spoke about acting, family, interests, hobbies. Once the conversation flowed more, it was easier to let loose and talk to him without stuttering every two seconds.

Pedro was laughing at something you said when your stomach growled.

“Oh my god that is so embarrassing.” You hide your face in your hands. “No need to be embarrassed sweetheart.” There was that name again. “I should leave soon, I didn’t realize it was so late already.” You really wanted him to stay. “You don’t have to go. I was probably going to order something if you wanted to join me.” You offered hoping he would say yes. “I don’t want to be a bother, I’ll get out of your hair.” “Oh. Okay.”. He stood up and stretched his arms up, making his shirt raise just enough for you to catch a glance at his lower tummy. You quickly looked away and stood up as well.

He put his hat and jacket back on. “Well I should head out.” “Yea.. yea um I’ll walk you out.” You both started walking towards the door. “I’ll see you soon yea? Next time you better not be all shy again you hear me?” “No promises. You make me nervous, remember?.” He chuckles. You open the door for him. He gives you a quick goodbye and then he's gone. You close the door and make your way back to the couch to sit down. You ordered some food and tried to process everything that happened today.

As you were eating, you got a text.

Pedro :)

I had a lot of fun today, we should do it again.

You start to text a reply but before you can hit send, another text comes through.

Pedro :)

Did I mention that you looked really beautiful today?

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Thank you for reading <3

next chapter

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cherry-shiftss · 3 months ago

Note

hi!! thanku so much for replying previously, what would you recommend to script specifically for going to the 70s/80s?

yeah of course!! (these are just copied and pasted from my script)

-cigarettes, drugs and alcohol do not harm your body and you can't get addicted

-photos and videos aren't crap quality (more like digital camera quality)

-the AIDs epidemic never happened

-medicinal and psychological knowledge is up to the same standard as modern day

-the old cars are easy to drive

-theme parks are up to modern safety

-racism, homphobia, transphobia, misogyny ect. don't exist

i've also scripted in a few of my favourite tv shows and books

(also if you're comfortable, feel free to message me!! if not that's totally okay for me too, I don't mind at all)

#reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting blog #shifting community #shifting #shifting antis dni #shifting motivation #shifting realities #anti shifters dni #queen dr

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jainydoe · 7 months ago

Text

Misdirection, Ch. 2

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

They meet for coffee and she dents his car.

Things have gotten worse since he’d arrived at The Crossroads.

Firstly, the blazer he’d planned on, a lovely wool in moss and taupe, was at the dry cleaners - Manfred, finger painting, etc. - which meant having to go with his second choice, which was really less coffee-shop and moreso cocktail-bar, he felt like a fucking waiter, and the one t-shirt slash casual thing he did own was something Manfred had made in his daycare class and Emmrich was having it framed, anyway, and on that note, actually, he wasn’t about to wear something that said I have a child and love him so so much, also he’s a relic of my failed marriage and would you wanna be his new mommy? Sign here.

He wasn’t overthinking things. Maybe just the outfit, though. She wasn’t going to care what he wore, so long as it said I can afford you. The drive was nearby enough, in the area of downtown riddled with the local youths. He peaked in the rearview mirror at the rotting ghost of a reflection looking back. It almost said Hey old-timer, drive all the way to the playground for some fresh, young poontang? Pervert.

As if watching from afar, he could see his gaze ricocheting off every corner of the shop, on the two women studying, the boy with headphones, the barista, the other barista, the woman leaving the bathroom. None of them said I’m here for sex but then again, neither did he. He hasn’t communicated an air of I’m-fuckable-and-sociable-and-laughable-and-loveable in years, but doubts his attire is lending itself to that fact.

I’m dressed like this is a goddamn job interview.

He’s acting like it, too. Going over the important facts. Things to remember. Don’t bring up your kid. Don’t mention what you do for a living. Say you’re in banking or something equally obnoxious and uninteresting. But also, be the most interesting man she’s ever met. Who happens to work in banking. Don’t compliment her too much. Women hate that. Well, Johanna hated that. So maybe some women still like it, actually. Don’t overcook. Compliment her medium-rare. As for dialogue with others, he’d been preparing himself for the traditional No, I’m not her father, no, I’m not her boyfriend, either, and rehearsed this script as he grabbed his burnt cappuccino and took a seat at a table far from the rest of the crowd. Somewhere by a window where the shadows won’t be too unkind.

He doesn’t check his watch for a while, because he’s an early type of guy and this gives him time to briefly flip through the book that had made itself comfortable in his work bag for weeks. It’s unrelated to his job. It’s about a woman’s journey abroad and yoga and yogurt. It will, most certainly, add nothing to his life. It’s for pleasure. Today is about pleasure. That, in itself, almost turns him on. Then the sun gets brighter and his coffee is finished and he sees it’s been forty minutes. He even double-checks their messages. Reads over them a third time for good measure. So. That’s probably a bad sign. He doesn’t know if he’s relieved. But this allows him to go home and grant himself an early glass of wallowing-wine. He’ll even leave a trail of clothes behind him, all leading to a hot bath where he can let himself stew and wrinkle and be comforted by the fact he didn’t even have to really put himself out there, at all. He was daring and exciting and that was enough for him, thankyouverymuch. He tells himself the gaping disappointment in his chest is about not getting fucked and that’s all. Another thing to ignore. Farewell, dear Rook, I wish thee some other loaded shmuck. He’s unlocking his car, and he hears it before he sees it. A chipped Suburu, a SAVE ARLATHAN bumper sticker, something fast paced and loud and probably feminist blaring through the windows. She parks to the right of his Lexus and tries opening the driver’s door when it crushes against his, offering a sliver of room and just enough damage to ruin a day.

“FUCK.”

It’s her. Bold and italicized. He’s stunned as she drops her face into her hands, and he can’t tell if she’s laughing or crying. And as if watching himself from afar, unable to debate, he glides slowly towards her, clearing his throat as he nearly hides behind his trunk.

“Ahem, are you alright?”

“NO.” She huffs, hand on her forehead, looking anywhere but him. “No, I’m late for this, this thing, so I was in a hurry and that’s why I dented your car. At least I think it's your car. Sorry about that. I’m sorry.” Her face scrunches in the way all do when trying to hold it together. She looks up, and he can see she’s wearing mascara and blinking faster and faster. “Um, you may as well know it’s gonna take me a while to pay for the damage, I, uh,” she laughs and he can hear her throat bubbling, “I was gonna maybe find a way to help take care of money stuff today but, uh, me being late and all, doubt that’s gonna happen.”

He nods. “Job interview?”

“Something like that.”

He curves his hip around the back of the car, resting it against the side, arms crossed. She’s quite tragically lovely. Not a damsel, but unabashed in her weakness. Not dissimilar to those crucified. He imagines her weeping in linens, then imagines her weeping on his eiderdown comforter, then laughing, then sighing, then. He wants to boil himself in hot tar for seeing a pretty girl and immediately comparing her to something holy. But that only makes him think of her on her knees. Needy and apologetic.

Please, God, don’t let it look like I’m trying to be suave. “That’s a funny coincidence. I’ve been here for almost the last hour waiting to, uh, interview someone, myself.”

She stops staring at his car and switches to his arms. At his car, again. Then in his eyes. He can’t hear anything but his own breath. “You’re interviewing someone?”

“Something like that.”

She bites the corner of her mouth, looking him over then extending her left hand. It’s small and a bit rough, completely unlike his. It’s enchanting. She’s enchanting. He wonders if the rest of her is rough, too. Or if some parts are silk. Or crushed velvet. She tries on a smile, “I’m Rook.”

“Emmrich.”

“Charmed.”

“Completely.”

He doesn’t seem to be mad. In fact, it’s almost as if he’s merry. She sits in a booth by a window, chest shivering and fingers drumming as she waits for him to return with her order. You don’t have to get me anything.Oh, are we not on the same page regarding this arrangement, he’d whispered, something passive and devious behind his veneer of propriety.

Figures, she’d fuck up his car, be late and begin the date by crying. Maybe, before it ends, she should take a shit on the hood of his dented Lexus and thank him for solving her daddy issues. He already finds her, well, enough of something to continue this date. May as well seal the deal.

“Your coffee.” He slides her cup next to her hand, along with a small, cardboard box. “Almond croissant. They’re quite lovely.” She lifts the tabs, taking a look at an over-powdered, massive, monstrosity of a pastry. It’s perfect. “Tell me, do you usually take your coffee black, or were you being modest?” He’s somewhat direct. It’s appreciated. “Maybe a bit of both.”

“Hm. Then what is it you desire?” He’s a relic from another time. She looks at him. Seriously, this time. He’s wearing a vest on a Saturday morning and shaves his mustache into that vintage style. He smells like the expensive type of cologne they don’t sell in department stores and on his hands are metals and jewels that outshine her. It doesn’t make sense. They don’t make sense. As if watching herself, she sees a girl slumped into cheap vinyl, unsure and uncomfortable. A scrappy wench with scars and other mistakes holding onto her body, across from a man. A man who has his shit together. A man who is studying her, as if circling, smacking a rod against the parts of her that need work and lifting her chin with the end, a challenge on his lips. He’s a man who hasn’t brought up the fact that she’s a trainwreck, and instead, bought her a coffee and croissant and doesn’t mention the fact she already owes him money. Does he really find her daring?

This is an interview. This is a job. Think of old movies. Of Audrey Hepburn. Of Hedy Lamar. He’s got something dark in his ensemble, a certain je-ne-sais-quoi that says he’s whacked it to Vampira. Elvira. She can be his Mistress of the Dark.

“Perhaps I desire whatever it is you’re willing to offer.” It’s close to the right answer. He looks her up and down. As if deciding something. She opts for honesty and crosses her toes in hope. “I don’t really know what I want.”

It seems to work. He props his knuckles under his chin, leaning closer and quirking up a smile. It’s small and just for her. There’s something that feels good about that. “I suppose we’re in the same boat, then.”

“You’ve never taken on a mistress before?”

He coughs a bit and grows pink at his edges. “Not like this.”

“So you’ve had a mistress, just one you didn’t pay for.”

“Oh, I paid.”

“Money?” “Among other things.” “Reputation?

“Sanity.”

“She sounds like a real peach.” That makes him grin. Maybe he likes cheek. “Can I ask you something daring?”

“I don’t see why not.”

She leans forward. Don’t sound like you’re lying. Because you’re not. But he might think you are. “You’re a real good-looking guy. Maybe you got burned by someone way back, sure, but you definitely don’t strike me as the type to need to pay for companionship. Not that I’m not interested, I am.” He gets pinker. Fuck it. “I just, well, look, okay, I gotta know now. What’s wrong with you?”

His face scrunches up in the way all do when trying to hold back laughter. Perhaps she is charming. “Maybe I’m just someone interested in a professional.”

A professional. She’s never been a professional anything. But he doesn’t know that. “Well, then you’re barking up the right tree.” She crosses her arms and hopes it comes across proud instead of haughty. Like a bigshot CEO in Balenciaga and real furs and not a girl in a boa with a tiara that says BIRTHDAY QUEEN.

“Of course. What do you say to dinner tomorrow night? A more ample opportunity for us to assess compatibility.”

She shakes his hand and calls it a deal. Finishes her coffee, her croissant, and for good measure, wipes the powdered sugar from her cheek and brushes it against his lower lip. A promise. A dare. An invitation. She hopes it leaves him with an image: a brave young girl with sweet lips and a sultry attitude, and it’s this hope that she banks on as she revs out of the parking lot, breaking too quick and fumbling too fast to call up the only person who can help in a time like this.

Her voice on the other line is melted butter. “Rook, what a lovely surprise!”\

“Neve? Okay. I’m seducing an older man tomorrow night and I think he’s taking me to a fancy restaurant and I don’t know what I’m doing. So.”

Her laugh echoes through the car. “I’ll be at yours in twenty.”

The icewoman cometh.

#emmrich volkarin #dragon age the veilguard #emrook #rook x emmrich #datv

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its-been-rose · 1 year ago

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So I spent like 2 hours on this

Anyways, let me explain:

Methodology: to make this map I watched an unedited playthrough of the game and marked down how long it took to get from one scripted event to the next. I then inserted in the known times/save points the game gives you at certain intervals. I then calculated at what time each event would take place given how long the game takes to actually play, and then put those numbers to correspond with the actual in- game clock. All times marked with a ~ are approximate.

What I found:

The game is actually pretty much in real time, with some exceptions. There are some timeskips. If you’re playing a speedrun, you’re gonna come in at like 3:30, and the game ends roughly at 4 am ish. This means that if you do everything super fast and don’t waste any time, the game timeskips about half an hour here and there. I tried to account for these timeskips where they occur in my map like adding two minutes when Roddy’s song is skipped. Some sections also take a bit longer than the in-game time. For example, the time from Maurice to Virginia to Eugene to Murphy is much longer irl than it is in-universe, meaning no matter who is doing what kill, they are BOOKING IT from victim to victim.

Who did what: so my choices of who did what kill rely on two things: one, proximity to the confirmed kills/scripted events, and two, my own personal headcanons for who did which. I will now put the game’s timeline in order as well as who did what. Please keep in mind anything happening within KFAM like ponty’s calls or the little Peggy q and an after Maurice or Forrest being the rizz king to Sandra are not included.

~11:40 pm: sheriff Matthews is killed (Marie) (I didn’t put an actual time on the map for this because i don’t know if it’s right or not but in my HEAD, Marie started her attack at George’s TOD)

~11:55 pm: whatever the opening cutscene is (Henry)

~12:04 am: Leslie is attacked (Marie)

-Marie recovers from being shot at by the Sherriff and tased by leslie

~12:25 am: Sandra is attacked (Marie) (Sandra’s excact location is unknown but I put her by what is presumably a parking lot by the football field near the river running route.) (Sandra is not seen getting into her car because Marie takes a longer time to actually get into the parking lot due to being injured)

~12:25 am: Henry slashes the fire engine tires and makes his way up to Maurice.

~12:47 am: Maurice reports a break in (Henry)

-Henry is locked in the archive for like 10 minutes

-Marie drops off the tape on her way to get Henry

-when she breaks him out, they hear Murphy acting a fool, but Marie tells henry to stick to his current target before going up to the maze.

~1:20 am: Marie calls Virginia because she has the phone and sends Henry on his way (Virginia’s location is also unknown so I just guessed)

~1:35 am: Henry goes to attack Virginia but is scared off by the frat. Immediately books it to Murphy.

~1:40 am: Eugene is attacked (Marie)

-marie, on her way to the graveyard, sees the teens going to the murder house and watches

~1:53 am: Murphy is attacked (Henry)

-Marie sees the prank unfolding and slips into the group

~2:15 am: the teens are attacked (Marie)

-Marie spends a few minutes at the graveyard visiting George and recovering from getting a bookshelf tipped over on top of her

~2:32 am: Forrest spots the whistling man outside KFAM when going to retrieve LRH (Henry)

~2:43 am: Marie and Henry meet outside the gas station to regroup (optional? Idk)

~2:45 am: the bomb is detonated (Marie)

-Henry goes back to KFAM to hang out outside as the last victims are personal to his mother.

~3:10 am: Ricky is attacked (Marie)

~3:18 am: Jason is stabbed in the woods (Marie)

~3:25 am: Casey calls KFAM now inside her house

-Marie kidnaps Teddy on her way to the school gym

~3:45 am: Henry enters KFAM and locks Forrest in the producer booth

~3:46 am: Interview with Teddy begins (Marie)

~3:58 am: Peggy confronts Marie

Thoughts? Do you agree or disagree? What would you change? Do you think this was a complete waste of my Sunday evening? I’d love to hear your thoughts!!

*edited to add: I changed Virginias location to make at least a little more sense lol

#killer frequency #marie campbell #henry barrow #text post #I felt the power of the autism in my veins when I made this lol

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stalkersamsrptumbler · 3 months ago

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((NON-CANNON)) Remember.

for the amazing @4thwallbreakerdraws2 and their AU! 1/3 It had already been a hectic morning for RTV. FIRST, no one had decided to INFORM him the costume department was low on cloth and fabric, THEN he was told how new orders for a handful of different films he was working had to be PICKED UP thanks to an intern messing up the order form, and the only reason HE was even going out to get everything was he had a meeting with a realestate agent to continue his expansion of the studio…

His security was already handling keeping all of his fans at bay while the others walked towards where they had parked the car, while RTV was going over the already mile long list of things he needed to do once he was back at the studio…something occurred.

RTV stumbled a bit as he bumped into a stack of what looked to be cardboard boxes, strange..it was rare he didn't pay attention where he was going let alone WALK into something without at LEAST being informed. Looking back to the mess of boxes and books it would seem, someone else was among the mess. The stranger was quick to pick themselves up and begin a slew of apologies as they should but RTV didn’t get the chance to say anything before the groveling stopped as quickly as it had begun.

“Wait… Oh stars, Mr. Puzzles?! It's been what? YEars since I’ve seen you!” Oh goodie, another fan to deal wi-…wait…Years? Why would it have been years?

Getting a better look at the stranger, they seemed to be floating off the ground to better meet his gaze, well better for him to meet their own cross-eyed stare?

“Is this what you’ve been getting up to since I last saw you? You really seemed to have kept that promise of yours about becoming the best, I'm so proud of you!”

RTV paused for a moment, going through file after file of just WHO he could be talking to… Who the HELL is this? Did he FORGET a fan? Is his memory becoming THAT bad? No…No he recognizes her, he has seen her somewhere before but where? Why is he struggling so much to come upon a name? …Why does this feel IMPORTANT!?…..Giving a small chuckle, he dusted himself off as well and gave a smile like he always did. “Why YES, once I set my sights on a goal it's NEAR impossible to turn me away from WHAT I want, hm?” The stranger simply nodded while gathering her boxes.

“Again, I'm so sorry for that. Really should have been paying attention to where I was going, BUT I'll quickly be getting out of your way! I only needed to grab a few supplies anyway!” With a small bow and nod of the head, she was off. “Bye Mr. Puzzles!” RTV simply gave a wave to the stranger as a portal opened and she flew through.

The second she was gone from his sight, the questions returned…In Fact they didn't seem to even leave him once he reached the studio! Not even work could pull his mind fully away from the wandering questions of who that was and why they felt so…familiar? Unbothered by his stadhuis? Thinking back to the interaction she wasn’t fawning over him, asking to be in his next film, not even an autograph…None of this is adding up…and THAT is the third time he’s needed to rewrite the START of this script!

Throwing away the now crumbled up ball of paper, RTV took a breath before looking at his desk phone…Just a single background check. A single check to see just WHY he felt this way…That was five hours ago and he found NOTHING. She wasn’t walking the street, watching TV, at the park, NOTHING…As if she just VANISHED off the face of the earth..It seems like he might need to do a bit more digging then he thought…Hitting a single button on the phone, it rang once before someone picks up.

“Yes, Lucian? You know that strange woman that ran into me earlier today? Yes, the one with the WHITE hair and…everything else…I need for YOU to find whatever you can ABOUT her…I don’t care that we didn’t GET her name, I’ve SEEN you find people with much less so get to it.” Hitting the button caused a small beep to ring out in the room, showing an end to the call. Alright, THAT should at least put his overworking mind to rest so he can finish this script by monday…

#RTV silhouette #rtv puzzles #rtv au #rtv au insert #fanfic #i just made this on a whim guys #i regret nothing

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marigoldsandbluebonnets · 4 months ago

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Stuff I’ve Scripted About the World

There is a comprehensive railway network and service across the United States and all over the world that is clean, frequent, reliable, affordable, passenger rail

Railway stations are easy to traverse, accessible, and filled with restaurants and shopping centers as well as being located well in cities

All public transport is beautiful, clean, comfortable, spacious, reliable, frequent, safe, and affordable

There is little to no air, sound, light, or chemical pollution

Things are made better and out of higher quality materials without planned obsolescence

Things are built to last

There is more unique beautiful architecture, clothing, food, and culture in different places

Places have more unique strong cultural identities with food, architecture, fashion, etc

The world is safer and cleaner

There are lots of native trees and wildflowers around cities and suburbs

There are clean, free, well maintained, beautiful public restrooms everywhere in cities and suburbs

There are clean, free, well maintained, beautiful water fountains and bottled water fillers everywhere in cities and suburbs

There are lots of clean, free or affordable, well maintained, beautiful third spaces like libraries, cafes, restaurants, bars, theaters, rec centers, maker spaces, parks, museums, etc

There is less crime and danger overall

There is less retail theft and unruly behavior

People don’t litter and the environment is clean

New York is similar to Amsterdam in cycling infrastructure and how it tackles cars

Biking pathways are safe, well built, separate from cars, clean, well maintained, well lit and tree lined, and are comprehensive across the world

There are protected bike lanes that are well maintained and have access to public transportation

There are bike sharing programs available as well as workplace showers

There is comprehensive bike parking around different areas and in cities having bike parking garages

There is very little stealing of bikes and they are always returned to their owners

Within many workplaces there are well made, beautiful, clean, well maintained bathrooms with showers

Unions are common among many fields and professions

Climate change and global warming are not an issue and temperatures are naturally cooler by 10 degrees Fahrenheit and this only improves agricultural productivity, harvests, and the environment with animals

Agriculture has less monocultures and more variety

There are more trees and different types of trees

Deforestation isn’t an issue

There are more fruits, vegetables, algae, spices, herbs, edible flowers, grains, nuts, seeds, fungi, and proteins

There is more access to unique new fruits, vegetables, algae, spices, herbs, edible flowers, grains, nuts, seeds, fungi, and proteins

It is easier to cultivate many mushrooms and other crops that are usually only foraged

Grocery stores have more interesting types of foods especially local produce and varieties

There are more small local grocery stores that sell curated products from the local areas

There are more small specialty grocery shops like cheese mongers, butchers, fishmongers, ice creameries, dairy creameries, chocolate shops, sweets shops, bakeries, spice shops, delis, coffee shops, tea shops, mushroom shops, ferment & vinegar stores, and fruit or vegetable markets with vegan versions of these shops as well

There’s a drastic decrease in the number of natural disasters

There is less war

Homelessness is not an issue and the government has proper housing

Etsy, Ren fairs, and Festivals are filled with unique handmade goods from small businesses and there is no dropshipping

There are more small unique businesses and restaurants everywhere

Society uses land a lot more efficiently

Website and book bans aren’t an issue

There isn’t an issue with species going extinct

We can reuse and recycle all trash

There is better sorting for waste and recycling

We compost almost all food waste

There is almost no pollution

There is very little textile pollution

Things are much more circular in the economy

Rivers and springs are clean

Trash is properly restored, reused, and recycled

Almost everything that goes for recycling gets recycled or reused

We can properly recycle clothes and separate textiles with multiple fibers

More clothes are high quality and made from natural materials

Everything is higher quality

There is no planned obsolescence, things are made to last

We utilize clean energy

There are proper social safety nets

There are bike lanes everywhere

Periods don’t exist for human women

Pregnancies are even safer

Babies have less of a chance of being born disabled

There is less robbery

AI is not overtaking the internet

AI imagery doesn’t overtake social media platforms like Pinterest, instagram, Reddit, ao3, YouTube, TikTok, etc

Art is more appreciated

Britain never left the EU through Brexit

There are much better, healthier, delicious, affordable vegan alternatives and options in stores and restaurants

Vegan options are more affordable

It is much easier to accommodate dietary restrictions

People have less allergies

There are less unhealthy highly processed foods

Medical treatments are extremely affordable and advanced

Scar treatments are much better

Everything is more accessible

We are able to have nice things, people don’t destroy the world unnecessarily

Tipping is not a requirement at places

People are all paid fairly and a living wage

Universities are affordable, accessible, beautiful, provide independence, and teach extremely well all over the world

People all over the world have access to education that is well made, factually accurate, and clean

Pinterest is a better platform where it doesn’t focus so much on shopping items and it doesn’t have a bunch of ai images and scams

Private Equity doesn’t buy everything and ruin it all

Gay marriage is legal around the world

#reality shifting #shifting antis dni #shifting script #shifting realities #shifting #desired reality #scripting #dr scripting #my post

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1lostsoul0fishbowl · 9 months ago

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@corrodedcoffinfest seven deadly sins halloween pop-up

dividers by @strangergraphics-archive

prompt: wrath ~ word count: 666 ~ rating: M - pov: Gareth ~ relationships: none ~ cw: canon character death, use of song titled “goodbye cruel world”

summary: school has reopened after the so-called earthquake, but Gareth is not thrilled to be returning without his best friend.

author’s note: written in the style of a script. the 2.5-minute soundtrack, found here, is absolutely essential to this fic.

**the song “goodbye cruel world” is used in reference to Eddie’s decision to sacrifice his life for his friends. it is not in any way intended to represent Gareth experiencing suicidal ideation. but please, if you need to, take care. 💜

SCENE: HAWKINS HIGH

The song begins with crashing sound effects; the final crash aligns with the visual of a car door being slammed shut.

LYRIC: I DON’T NEED NO

Closeup on a pair of heavy black combat boots, stomping across the parking lot toward the school.

LYRIC: ARMS AROUND ME

Cut to Gareth POV; a group of girls give him frightened looks and scatter at his approach, leaving him a wide path through the crowded hall.

LYRIC: AND I DON’T NEED NO

Closeup on Gareth’s nose and lips only, as he takes a deep drag from a cigarette and exhales smoke through his nose. His lip is pierced with a silver hoop ring. He carelessly throws the cigarette aside.

LYRIC: DRUGS TO CALM ME

Closeup on the cigarette, rolling across the tiled floor, still lit and trailing smoke.

LYRIC: I HAVE SEEN THE WRITING ON

Cut to: Inside of a locker. The Hellfire Club yearbook photo is taped to the inside of the door. A note has been shoved through the vent, which is abruptly ripped free. He throws a book inside, scattering papers everywhere.

LYRIC: THE WALL

The locker slams shut, revealing graffiti all over the front. The word SATANIST is clearly visible, and the camera slowly zooms in on it.

LYRIC: DON’T THINK I NEED ANYTHING AT ALL

For the first time we see a full view of Gareth as he stomps down the school hallway, scowling fiercely. He’s wearing his Hellfire shirt and red flannel vest, but over it a black leather jacket decorated with metal studs and chains. Ripped black jeans and the aforementioned heavy black boots complete the undeniably Eddie-like image, a stark contrast to the colorful summery outfits of the preppy kids surrounding him.

LYRIC: NO

Gareth roughly shoves aside a kid in a sports uniform. The kid is bigger than him, but looks scared of him.

LYRIC: DON’T THINK I NEED ANYTHING AT ALL

Camera shifts to a wider perspective as Gareth stalks away. Kids mostly ignore him, continuing to give him a wide berth. At the strong GUITAR CHORD he turns abruptly and though he doesn’t speak audibly it’s clear that he snaps “fuck off!” at a group of little band nerds who were staring at him. They jump back, frightened, and immediately scatter. Gareth disappears around the corner.

LYRIC: ALL IN ALL IT WAS ALL JUST BRICKS IN THE WALL

Closeup on Gareth’s hand, adorned with chunky silver rings nearly identical to Eddie’s, shoving open the door of the gymnasium. Pan around gym; it’s obviously a “first day back to school” pep rally or assembly of some sort. The gym is a riot of school spirit and colors and perky happy kids.

Gareth storms right past Jeff and Grant— who exchange worried looks— without acknowledging them, and climbs to the very top of the bleachers, sitting far away from all the other students.

LYRIC: ALL IN ALL YOU WERE ALL JUST BRICKS IN THE WALL

As the music fades into the next track, Gareth slumps against the wall, crossing his arms, glaring around the room as if daring anyone else to approach. Pan out reveals he’s sitting beneath a hand painted banner that says KEEP OUR SCHOOLS SAFE! with two large crosses and ichthys symbols painted on either side of the words.

Cut to Lucas, Mike, Dustin, and Will entering the gym; Dustin starts heading in Gareth’s direction but is quickly stopped by Jeff.

LYRIC: GOODBYE CRUEL WORLD, I’M LEAVING YOU TODAY

Gareth glares daggers at his friends.

Former friends?

LYRIC: GOODBYE, GOODBYE, GOODBYE

He unfolds the paper that was in his locker vent. It’s Eddie’s missing person poster.

LYRIC: GOODBYE, ALL YOU PEOPLE

Gareth's fingers briefly caress photo-Eddie’s face.

LYRIC: THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN SAY

Scrawled across the bottom of the poster in bright red ink are the words YOU'RE NEXT, FREAK!

LYRIC: TO MAKE ME CHANGE MY MIND

Gareth angrily crumples the poster and throws it as hard as he can.

LYRIC: GOODBYE

END SCENE

thanks a million to @the-unforgivenn for beta reading!

#corrodedcoffinfest: seven deadly sins #corrodedcoffinfest #corroded coffin #gareth stranger things #gareth emerson #angry little bear

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humbledragon669 · 11 months ago

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Script to Screen comparison: Episode 5 – The Doomsday Option P1 – large changes and deletions

Standard Intro

Having followed the episodes through with the Script Book, I've tried to break the differences between the original script and the end result on screen into a couple of different categories:

Large changes (whole scenes/multiple lines of script.

Things that are in the original script but not in the finished episode (I'm calling these deletions). This blog post will cover these and large changes only (for brevity) – additions and amendments will be covered separately.

Things that aren't in the original script but are in the finished episode (I'm calling these additions).

Things that have been changed (I'm calling these ones amendments).

Not all of the changes fit neatly into one category or the other (there are shades of grey...). The first three of the differences will be presented within bullet lists, with a description. The last of the categories will be presented in a table. I'll make comments about anything I find particularly notable after each category.

Large changes

The opening shot of the first scene has changed – the script had Crowley driving towards the camera, angry and scared, amongst a cacophony of fire engines and police sirens, instead of an overhead shot of the Bentley driving through the streets of London.

The opening to scene #503 has changed – a shot of Crowley in the Bentley driving past a hive of activity outside the bookshop is missing entirely, and instead of seeing him drive the car up onto the pavement (or sidewalk if you prefer) with a dramatic brake screech, we have a simpler shot of his exiting the already stationary car.

Scene #506 changes:

The opening of this scene is missing, which would have showed the bookshop collapsing, the police doing some crowd management and a firefighter telling his colleagues how he tried to stop Crowley from entering the building.

The voiceover speech from God has been repositioned (it would originally have been heard as Crowley departs Soho).

There is a line from God’s speech that has been cut (“He had nowhere to go.”).

The stage directions suggest Crowley should have looked a lot more dishevelled than he does in the finished episode.

There should have been a number of onlookers at the scene, all of whom are scripted to look at Crowley but not really see him. They even move, silently, out of the way as the demon returns to his car.

Crowley’s sunglasses were originally scripted to go into a bin.

The stage directions have the Bentley reversing from the scene.

The explosion that takes place as Crowley drives past the window of the bookshop is additional to the script.

A conversation between a firefighter and a police officer about Crowley’s departure is missing.

There is a shot of Madame Tracy answering the door to Shadwell, including an obviously rehearsed welcome speech for her clients, that has been cut.

A chunk of conversation between Madame Tracy and Shadwell, where he hints at the devastating power he now believes he has, is missing from the finished episode.

A handful of lines from Adam where he appears to be talking to Dog about the events that are underway have been cut.

Scene #514 (Madame Tracy brings a sleeping Shadwell a cup of tea) has been cut.

A couple of lines between Newt and Anathema about the morality and their capacity to kill a child have been cut.

There is a sentence from Madame Tracy where she tells her clients to hurry up and get inside owing to the terrible weather, which Mrs. Ormerod’s responds to. Both of these lines have been cut.

A few lines between Madame Tracy and her clients as they are welcomed into the flat are missing from the finished episode.

An exchange between Madame Tracy, Julia and Mrs. Ormerod about their donations has been cut.

Scene #522 (an exterior shot of the café car park showing Famine’s bike parked up) has been repositioned. It was originally scripted to take place after Famine’s entrance into the café, rather than before it.

A chunk of dialogue between Famine and War about them not having birthdays and the weather, including scene #524 (an exterior shot of the café car park showing Pollution parking their bike up), has all been cut.

Scene #528 (an establishing exterior shot of Shadwell’s flat) and the dialogue at the beginning of scene #529 that immediately follows (where Madame Tracy issues séance instructions to her clients) have both been cut.

A chunk of Madame Tracy’s lines, where she initiates the séance proper, is missing from the finished episode.

Mrs. Ormerod’s initial questioning of Colleen about Ron being with her originally included a much longer speech, where she lists out some of the things she wants to tell him.

A couple of lines between Madame Tracy and Mr. Scroggie about his supposed spirit visitor have been cut.

The final interaction between Madame Tracy and Mrs. Ormerod, complete with a pathetic threat from the latter, is missing from the finished episode.

An extension to the scene in the kitchen, where Madame Tracy actually makes two cups of tea, taking Aziraphale’s preferences into account, has been cut.

Most of the content from scene #531 (Crowley stuck in the traffic jam) is missing. This includes a conversation between Crowley and Beelzebub via the car stereo. The following scene (a police officer in their car talking to the dispatch room as a rain of fish starts to fall) has been cut entirely. The final cut to this sequence is a single line from the beginning of the next scene, where the radio announces the M25 traffic jam to be the worst in history.

Scene #534 (the shot of Crowley in a muddy field, repositioning markers) has been repositioned to interject scene #127 (Crowley giving a talk about the M25). The script also gives quite a bit more in terms of stage directions for this shot, all of which is missing, along with the only line Crowley says for this scene (him telling the M25 that it is both a motorway and the sigil, Odegra).

Shadwell’s awakening in Madame Tracy’s flat is different – he was originally scripted to wander through the flat, flattening himself against the wall before he enters the kitchen, holding his hands in front of him in a childlike “gun” arrangement.

An interaction between Madame Tracy and Shadwell, where he refuses to listen to what Aziraphale has to say, has been cut.

We were supposed to see the scene in Shadwell’s flat where Aziraphale and Shadwell discuss the arrival of the Antichrist on earth in two separate POVs (one from Madame Tracy, the other from Shadwell), rather than the standard narrative-type position we see in the episode.

A chunk of dialogue and its accompanying establishing shots about Madame Tracy’s available transportation, including one of the two/three of them mounting the scooter and leaving the flat, has been cut.

The stage directions have Crowley’s Bentley covered in dust and already stationary, incorporating a police roadblock, and some sort of special effect to give the impression of “evil energy”. The dust, roadblock, and special effects are all missing, and we actually see the Bentley come to a stop, which forms the only content for this scene.

A large chunk of the beginning of the scene where Adam eventually releases The Them has been cut. In it, we would have seen Adam forcefully levitating Brian, Pepper, and Wensleydale several hundred feet into the air, much to their fright.

The Them having a reunion at the end of the scene on the cricket green has been cut.

Scene #557 (which essentially consists of a bunch of double entendre comments from Madame Tracy whilst she and Shadwell try to get comfy on the scooter) has been cut.

Scene #563 (The Them coming together in Tadfield on their bikes) has been repositioned. It was originally scripted to take place after the Horsemen get the directions from R.P. Tyler, instead of immediately after the cricket green scene.

A chunk of dialogue between Newt and Anathema about how Agnes’s prophecies work in practice is missing from the finished episode.

Scenes #560 (a conversation between some scientists and the police officer that saw Crowley driving through the wall of flame) and #561 (an establishing shot of Madame Tracy and Shadwell flying through the sky on the scooter) have been cut.

An exchange between R.P. Tyler and Pollution, following the latter’s littering in the middle of the street, is missing from the finished episode.

Scene #564 (Heaven preparing to advance) has been cut.

Scene #565 (Hell preparing to advance) has been cut.

The beginning of scene #566 (Newt and Anathema driving to the airbase) has been cut. Mostly this consists of more scene setting for Agnes’s prophecies.

A handful of lines between Newt and Anathema (about the prophecy they’re working with and what her family thought of it) have been repositioned. Originally, they were scripted to take place after Newt’s concerns about being waterboarded rather than before.

A shot of the Horsemen on the other side of the airbase entry gate, becoming four individuals again, concluded with a “creepy” wave from Pollution to the guard, is missing from the finished episode.

Scene #570 changes:

All of the dialogue, which mostly consists of comments about the location that Armageddon is taking place in, has been cut (or repositioned – see amendments).

The setting for this scene was originally scripted to show the Horsemen walking through the airbase, rather than seeing them pull up to the bunker and dismounting.

An interaction between Dog and Shutzi, with accompanying lines from Adam, has been cut.

A speech by War about the human desire to kill is missing from the finished episode. It was meant to be preceded with a shot of Pollution hitting some keys on a keyboard, causing wisps of smoke to appear from it; this is also missing.

An exchange between Death and Pollution, where they explain to him what they’re doing, has been cut.

A handful of lines between War and Famine about Death are missing from the finished episode.

A chunk of scene #575 (two army men in a nuclear bunker), in which the commander and the crewman are trying to complete a crossword, has been cut.

Scene #578 (Madame Tracy/Aziraphale and Shadwell getting directions from R.P. Tyler) has been cut.

The opening to scene #585 has been changed – the shot of Madame Tracy arriving on the scooter is additional to the script, and the whole thing was supposed to be shot as if from the Guard’s POV.

A couple of lines between Death and War about the world being theirs are missing from the finished episode.

A handful of changes have been made to the middle of the scene on the tarmac:

Adam was originally scripted to tell the soldiers the reason that they had to go to sleep (“So you don’t get hurt.”).

There was supposed to be a shot of the lead solider looking at him incredulously.

Pepper had a line, which was ignored, where she asked Adam how he did the things he does.

In episode 4, I noted how much the finished episode differed from the original script by way of amendments. In this episode, the same is true, but this time it’s the amount of material that has been cut that’s notable. Entire scenes (sometimes more than one in a sequence) and speeches have been cut away, seemingly quite brutally. There is also, for the first time in this script-to-screen journey, the first instance of a note-free page in my Script Book, that is to say that particular page is exactly the same between script and screen (it’s page 328 if you’re interested, part of the conversation between Aziraphale and the Quartermaster).

I feel like most of these large changes have been pretty expertly implemented. There are a few of them that would have felt entirely at home in the earlier episodes, where the tone was less urgent and doom-laden (like the scene with the Commander and Crewman completing a crossword), but don’t really have a place this late on in the series – their presence would have slowed the pace, dampening the sense of urgency, and wouldn’t have offered a great deal in return. I feel like it probably takes a very savvy production team to read a series in that multi-layered way, and make the (probably painful) cuts that are needed to maintain the tone they want to achieve.

There is only one large change on the list above that I feel like I miss. It’s the handful of lines between Anathema and Newt where she confesses she wouldn’t be able to kill a child, even if it was to save the whole world. Had those words been present in the finished episode, it would have really highlighted the journey that both Aziraphale and Crowley have made towards becoming human, seeing as they have both admitted the same thing.

Deletions

The stage directions state that Crowley is angry and scared, but this is not apparent in the finished episode.

A line from the firefighter about appearances being deceptive.

An exclamation from the firefighter in an attempt to stop Crowley from entering the bookshop.

The stage directions suggest we should have heard “rumblings” inside the bookshop.

Crowley was scripted to call Aziraphale’s name once more after being knocked over, and then putting his glasses back on.

A line from Shadwell about the events that have happened not having any place on Earth.

A couple of sentences from Madame Tracy, where she assures Shadwell that Newt can probably look after himself.

An interjection from Shadwell where he attempts to reject Madame Tracy’s offer of help.

The stage directions have Heaven with an open roof, and in a state of chaos.

The model of Earth was supposed to be contained within a glass box.

Adam originally brought back the mouths for the rest of The Them with a verbal cue (“Mouths back.”)

The stage directions have a tear running down Brian’s face whilst he grins maniacally.

A line from Anathema about the earth moving during her escapades with Newt.

A line from Anathema about the storm dying down.

The stage directions have Anathema picking up the prophecy cards in the bedroom after she tells Newt to get dressed.

A couple of words from Anathema where she stipulates her doubt is specifically focussed on what they do about Adam (“I don’t know about that any more.”).

A couple of sentences from Crowley’s drunken soliloquy (about how he and “the guys” were going to ask about job conditions and career progression opportunities).

The stage directions have the entire bar taking on the impression of an old polaroid after Aziraphale’s arrival.

A line from Crowley about him trying to get drunk.

We were supposed to see a shot of more of Aziraphale’s notes (not just the map).

Mrs. Ormerod was supposed to be carrying an umbrella that had blown inside out. She was also scripted to make reference to it as “cheap rubbish”.

A shot of War dismounting her bike and entering the café.

A shot of the café door opening for Famine’s entrance to the café.

Famine offering War a greeting (“Hello”), rather than just greeting her by name.

War was scripted to express the length of time it’s taken for the four of them to get together (“finally”).

A line from Famine where he expresses relief that a thunderstorm is on the way.

The stage directions state that Madame Tracy is irritated at Mrs. Ormerod’s interjections as she “goes under”, but this is not apparent in the finished episode.

A few sentences from Julia where she expands upon her mother’s death.

A line from Madame Tracy as Aziraphale starts to take possession of her body where she announces that something is “coming through”.

Aziraphale was originally scripted to ask if Madame Tracy’s clients spoke English in two languages in addition to German – French and Mandarin.

A couple of extra words from Mrs. Ormerod as she expresses her shock than Ron is actually there in the room with her.

A sentence from Mrs. Ormerod where she comments that she was sitting down at the wedding.

The stage directions have Madame Tracy’s eyes rolling up as Ron prepares to lose his temper.

A line from Ron about him not caring about kimchi.

The lights were originally scripted to be turned back on by Aziraphale (as Madame Tracy) snapping his fingers.

The kettle was supposed to be whistling as we join Madame Tracy in the kitchen, making tea.

Crowley was supposed to mark the changes he made to the design of the M25 on the diagram as he gave his speech.

A line spoken by the audience of Crowley’s speech.

A second shot of Aziraphale’s reflection in a mirror as Shadwell enters the kitchen.

We were supposed to be able to hear people shouting in the background on the M25.

A line from Crowley where he talks himself through the route he needs to take to get to Tadfield.

The stage directions have rain flooding down the windows at the call centre (there aren’t even any windows in the finished episode, let alone rain).

According to the script, we were supposed to have a panning shot of the cubicles with their occupants in the call centre.

The script has the lights getting darker in the call centre as Hastur materialises out of the phone lines.

There was supposed to be a shot of Aziraphale (as Madame Tracy) crossing his fingers when he tells Shadwell how many nipples Adam has.

A line from Crowley about not having to complete any compliance paperwork anymore.

A line from Hastur about him not liking jokes.

The stage directions have a police roadblock on the hard shoulder that Crowley has to drive around.

Hastur’s hands were supposed to catch on fire before he tells Crowley to stop.

The stage directions have the flames dissipating inside the car after he gives the Bentley a pep talk about it not burning.

Crowley’s suit was supposed to be “interestingly ripped” during the extended close-up of him in the burning Bentley.

Buddy Holly’s “Everyday” was supposed to be playing as Crowley drives through the wall of fire.

The script had a moment of very eerie silence immediately after we see all four of the Horsemen proceeding down the highway, towards Adam’s voice.

A couple of sentences at the end of Adam’s speech about which parts of the world each of The Them will get to rule over, mostly just expanding on what they’ll all do.

The stage directions have Pepper stroking Dog after Adam’s speech about who gets which bit of the world to lord over.

A line from Adam that spells out more distinctly where his territory will be, which sounds suspiciously like the territory he gave to Anathema when he first met her.

The stage directions have Dog whining in a very distinctive way just after Pepper tells Adam they don’t want to go anywhere.

A line from Adam where he points out that The Them are now able to talk after he tells them they can go anywhere they want.

A line from Brian where he asks Adam what’s going to happen next after Adam tells them all he doesn’t care.

The stage directions have a loud crash noise that announces Adam’s presence as he hangs over The Them on the cricket green.

The script gives a description of Adam desperately looking from one member of The Them to the next, getting increasingly panicked.

Dog shaking his head when Adam begs them all to come back.

The stage directions have Hogback Wood shaking during Adam’s inhuman scream.

Pepper demanding that Brian hit Adam with the cricket bat before he can fully awaken.

Pepper signalling that Brian should in fact not hit Adam with the cricket bat after she sees Dog licking his face.

According to the script, we should see Anathema packing up her cards and the elusive bread knife as she’s getting ready to leave Jasmine Cottage.

A line from Aziraphale about how fast Madame Tracy’s scooter is (not) going.

A line from Madame Tracy about the speeds her scooter is actually capable of achieving.

The stage directions have the scooter wobbling as immediately before it is encompassed in the blue light that signifies Aziraphale’s miracle.

According to the script, we should have seen R.P. Tyler leaving his house with Shutzi.

A sentence from Anathema where she gives Newt directions to the airbase.

The stage directions have War giving a cursory glance around her surroundings before she becomes so dismissive of them.

According to the script, we were supposed to see Anathema becoming more “witchier” in appearance once she and Newt arrive at the airbase.

Anathema’s acknowledgement of a broken security camera, which has been crushed by the fallen tree.

The stage directions indicate that a long shot of the weather during the exchange between The Them and R.P. Tyler would have been desirable.

The soldier repairing the computer was supposed to be doing so lying on the floor.

A shot of the Horsemen looking less human immediately following God’s voiceover speech about them initiating worldwide nuclear war.

There are console lights described in the stage directions for the scene that takes place in a North American nuclear bunker.

According to the script, the commander in the North American bunker was supposed to tap the control panel after the switches had flipped.

A montage of missiles launching immediately after the Commander asks to speak to Stratcom cyber command.

The stage directions describe a “SUDDEN CRASH DOWN” as the Bentley comes to a stop.

According to the script, Agnes’s book was supposed to be little more than a blackened lump of charcoal by the time Crowley arrives at the airbase.

The airbase alarm was supposed to be triggered during a shot of the Guard hitting a red alert button.

A shot of the guard raising his gun at Madame Tracy/Aziraphale and Shadwell.

A line from Famine about the tardiness of the Antichrist.

A shot of The Them dismounting their bikes as they arrive at the communications bunker.

A line from Brian about how they always lose whenever they go up against adults.

The stage directions have an alarm and a red flashing light being heard/seen across the airbase compound as the soldiers approach The Them on the tarmac.

A shot of the Horsemen responding to Adam’s announcement of his presence.

“Everyday” rendition leading us into the end credits.

As with the large changes, I think all of these cuts have been pretty expertly made. I mostly don’t feel like their presence would have given us anything that would we haven’t gotten from elsewhere, despite them all feeling like they are in keeping with the general tone of the show. I have two exceptions to this. The first is the description from Adam about what his territory is going to be. True, it’s an exact repetition of what he describes as his “world” to Anathema in episode 3, but isn’t that kind of the point? He could have the entire world, but all he wants is this little patch that he thinks he’s already king of. The notion that he truly loves his little life is something that gets hammered so hard in the book, but I think is significantly underplayed in the show, and this would have gone a long way to rectifying that.

The second of my two exceptions is Crowley calling Aziraphale’s name after he’s knocked down. Not the part where he puts his glasses back on – I think it’s desperately important that we see his eyes during his ragey speech. But the part where he calls out Aziraphale’s name? That would have broken my heart, in the gloriously safe angst-y way that this show does so well. Don’t get me wrong, David does an exceptional job in that scene: it must have been incredibly difficult to deliver that heartfelt speech with everything else that was going on at the time, and my heart is breaking by the end of it anyway. There’s just something about the idea of him calling Aziraphale’s name one last time, mostly in despair but with a little bit of dying hope. Aaaand I’m crying. Actually crying as I write this. THAT’S why I miss it.

That’s it for this part. Additions and changes coming up in Part 2! As always, questions, comments, discussion: always welcome. See you in the next one!

#good omens #episode analysis #good omens season 1 #good omens script book

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