#solely focused on developing his character? sure

[scarletspider2the2ndpower]

“Kaine,” Web of Spider-Man (Vol. 3/2024), #1.

Writer: Steve Foxe; Penciler: Greg Land; Inker: Jay Leisten; Letterer: Frank D’Armata

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

whenever i say that a character needs therapy and healing before they start a relationship, people jump at my throat and assume that i'm saying that people with mental health issues shouldn't date at all or that they're not deserving of love.

folks. i have bipolar type 2. i'm also a psychology major. trust me when i say that i never said people with mental health issues shouldn't date at all.

i just think that it's a lot healthier to get into a committed relationship once you've started therapy and/or medication. no one is stopping you from getting into a relationship before that, but there is a higher chance of the relationship turning unhealthy and/or complicated. not just for your partner but for yourself as well.

and there are other relationships that people can and should focus on. i would never recommend an individual completely isolate themselves because they're mentally ill. that's the opposite of effective, it will only worsen your mental health.

romantic relationships aren't the only form of love. and when a person focuses solely on their romantic relationship, pushing aside their familial and platonic relationships, there's a higher chance of the person becoming overly dependent on their partner, which can again be unhealthy.

and keep in mind, my criticism is also more from a fictional perspective. stories that ignore a character's trauma and just give them a romantic partner aren't trying to tell you that people with mental health issues deserve love too, they're trying to brush the character's trauma under the rug and hoping that you won't notice.

a lot of these writers seem to genuinely think that romance will “cure” a character, and that's such a harmful mindset because it discourages people from seeking professional help. it's the same logic as thinking that birthing a child will solve relationship problems between a couple - that's just not how it works.

and in cases like catra, it's even worse because catra is not just dating anyone, she's dating the same person she has abused since childhood. this is destructive for both of them, not just adora. we have to realize that toxicity often stems from some kind of trauma (though not always) and it's not ableist to say that an abuser shouldn't be dating their victim.

one good example of a relationship involving a victim of trauma, in my opinion, is steven and connie from steven universe.

steven universe future focuses entirely on steven's deteriorating mental health, caused by all the trauma he endured in the original series. but in the end, after experiencing a mental breakdown, he actually seeks professional help before beginning to date connie.

it must also be mentioned that their relationship had great development since their friendship was already quite healthy and mutually supportive, and connie has been with steven through all his highs and lows. and so, it doesn't feel like this relationship came out of nowhere, just so that steven gets a happy ending.

it's a satisfying conclusion to both of their arcs and even better because they're allowed to stay away from each other and pursue their own goals while still being in a relationship, meaning that there won't be the risk of them becoming codependent.

this is all that i'm asking writers do with their characters with mental health issues/trauma. you can give them a romantic partner, just make sure you address their personal problems too, instead of brushing them under the rug.

[amaltheas-garden]

jon/ygritte lasted 8 chapters and still left a huuuge impact on jon lol saying jonerys won't happen bc "there's no time" is kinda dumb

When Jon was with Ygritte, the chapters were solely focused on Jon learning about the wildlings through his relationship to her. He was an outcast at the bottom of the pecking order clinging to Ygritte as the only ally he had in assimilating himself. ADOS Jon will be a leader in his own right, surrounded by family, and with wayyyy bigger problems than ACoK/ASoS Jon occupying his time. It's hard to see where exactly grrm is going to squeeze in the J/D alone time to develop a proper romance, considering Dany will likewise have her own problems and be on high alert, what with the three betrayals prophecy and having just deposed her nephew, only for a NEW son of Rhaegar with powerful allies to pop up in her quest for the throne. To repeat what I've already said, J/D have one book max together, which will feature the two final cataclysmic battles the series has been working up towards. Undoubtedly there will be a relationship between Jon and Dany, but a romantic one? Jon/Ygritte certainly left an impact, but I'd argue more so for its grizzly end (Jon chooses loyalty to the NW over her, is horrified by her killing of the old man, and is traumatized by cradling her dead body, wondering if it was his arrow that killed her). Jon/Ygritte happened because it was integral to Jon's development, a very different thing to a relationship between two main characters who (I'm assuming) you expect to end the series still in love. Two characters that will meet in the next book, already know a bit about each other, are aligned in political interests and house loyalties, and share the same pain over familial losses is a much easier romantic setup than "hi i'm the most powerful person in the world, i'm invading your kingdom, my dad killed your grandfather, uncle, and tried to kill your beloved "dad" who btw was a userper dog, and also my older brother allegedly kidnapped your mom". I'm sure they'll have some... interesting conversations, but these two characters have such different trajectories that I just can't see grrm forcing a romance plot for the sake of time among other, more significant reasons.

I would also point out that when Grrm does make a sincere attempt at a genuine romance between two fully fleshed out pov characters, a la Jaime/Brienne, he takes his sweet time slowly demonstrating their shifting views of the other, spanning MULTIPLE books, and he's not even done. If Jon is going to have a romance, it will be introduced in TWOW.

In short, the impact Ygritte had on Jon is called trauma, and true love Targ restoration Jonerys ain't happening.

[pedroscurls]

second chances | pt. 2

Character(s): Marcus Pike x fem!Reader Summary: Marcus gets ready to go back to work after his last few days off. He finds that you and him run on a similar schedule and slowly develop a routine. Word count: 3k A/N: This story is all fluff and eventually smut, fyi. I just want to see that smile back on Marcus Pike's face after Lisbon literally just ditches him👀 (lol i'm still bitter) Warning: None.  SERIES MASTERLIST - ultimate masterlist

Marcus spends the rest of his days off at home, only stepping out to get food. He finds that he prefers his solitude and since meeting you, he realizes that Lisbon hasn’t crossed his mind since. He isn’t sure what that means exactly, but he continues to tell himself that nothing could ever happen between the two of you. He hasn’t seen you since he helped you move your bed into your apartment and he doesn’t see you when he does step out of his apartment, but he has heard you throughout the day when he opens the door to his patio to let some fresh air into his apartment. 

He assumes that your sliding door must be open too because he hears the music playing softly in the background. It’s loud enough that he can hear it and he wonders if you’re beginning to unpack. Since meeting you, Marcus feels a little more hopeful about his new life in DC. 

When Monday rolls around, Marcus is already dressed and ready to head out the door by six in the morning. He’s got a travel mug filled with coffee and a bag slung over his shoulder. He hopes that he gets to see you today, even if it’s only in passing. Finally grabbing his keys, Marcus steps out of his apartment and locks it behind him. He turns on his heel and instantly smiles when he sees you locking the door to your apartment. His eyes rake over your frame, taking in what you’re wearing. You’re dressed in a white sweater with rainbow-colored horizontal stripes on it and it’s tucked into a pair of dark slacks. Your hair is pulled back into two loose braids and you have an overly-sized bag draped over your shoulder. You’re also wearing high top white converse and it puts a smile on Marcus’s face. You definitely look like a Kindergarten teacher. And it’s cute. You’re cute. 

“Morning,” Marcus calls out softly.

You look up at him and immediately grin. You couldn’t stop thinking about Marcus since meeting him. The first time you met him, it wasn’t that he was wearing a lack of clothing that you noticed, but rather his big, brown eyes that were staring back at you. And when he smiled and a dimple appeared on his right side of his cheek, you found yourself captivated. You just couldn’t believe that you tripped over your feet and that he had been watching. It was embarrassing and it was something that you always found yourself doing whenever someone that good looking was paying attention to you. 

You had hoped to see him again after he initially helped you move your large bed into your apartment, but was disappointed that you kept missing him. You had enough to distract you though, plenty of boxes to unpack, but you couldn’t help that your mind kept drifting to Marcus. Even when you opened your sliding door to your patio, you always looked over to the left to see if you would catch him standing outside too. 

But as Monday approaches, your mind is focused solely on your first day at the new school. You’re excited to start working again, so when you step out of your apartment and lock your front door at six in the morning, you’re surprised to hear his voice. You look at him from top to bottom and smile to yourself; he’s wearing a dark gray suit with a lighter gray button down shirt paired with a red tie with white dots. 

“Good morning, Marcus.” You both begin making your way to the elevator and you reach out to press the down button. As you and Marcus stand at the elevator doors, waiting for them to arrive and open, it’s Marcus that’s the first one to speak. 

“Been hearing your music,” he chuckles. 

“I’m sorry,” you blush. “I’ll keep it down–”

“It’s okay,” he interrupts with a smile. “I like it. It’s soothing. Better than hearing cars honking.” 

You nod and adjust the handle of your bag. “How were your days off?” 

“Peaceful,” he says. “Though, I think I ate a bit too much take out.”

You laugh quietly and before you could stop yourself, you ask, “Well, I make a really good pesto pasta and I was planning on making some tonight after I get home from work. Would you like to come over?” 

Marcus clears his throat. It’s as if life is throwing this fully on his lap. He’s trying to tell himself no no no, that something like this can’t happen again. He doesn’t want to open himself up to the possibility of getting hurt again, but the way you’re looking at him with your big, hopeful and excited eyes has him rethinking that maybe this could be good for him. That maybe you could be good for him. 

“Oh, that would be–” Marcus bites his lower lip. “I don’t know when I’ll be back home. I usually have late nights.” 

“That’s okay,” you say softly. “I’ll pack you a plate anyway.” 

The elevator doors open and Marcus extends a hand out for you to step inside first. You smile over at him and walk inside the elevator, pressing the button for the parking garage. Once he steps inside and the doors close, Marcus looks down at you. 

“That’d be real nice, thank you.” 

“Well, you did help me move my big ass bed into my apartment, so it’s the least I could do.”

Marcus laughs. “You really need a bed that big for someone as tiny as you?” he teases.

“Tiny?” you pout playfully, but a quiet giggle leaves your lips. “I like having space.” 

“You move around a lot in your sleep?” 

You blush again. “Well, sure, but also for other reasons…”

Marcus’s eyes widen and he realizes what you’re insinuating and it’s now his turn to blush. “Makes total sense. I’d want that much space too.”

You bite your lower lip and look up at him. You’re so attracted to him and you’re trying to tell yourself that there is no way someone like him would be single and yet, here you are telling him that your bed is so big because you like having the space for sex. How embarrassing, you think to yourself. You’re so deep in thought and regret that you don’t hear Marcus speak. 

“Hey,” he says softly. “Did you hear me?” 

“I’m sorry,” you laugh nervously. “What was that?” 

“It’s okay. I just asked if it’s your first day today. At the school.”

“Oh!” You nod, grateful that he changed the subject. “Yeah, it is. I’m excited.”

Then, the elevator doors open and Marcus is the first to step outside. You follow and look up at him, not wanting the conversation to end. 

“Well, I hope you have a great first day then,” Marcus says with a smile big enough that his dimple appears again. 

It makes you smile in return. “Thank you, Marcus.” 

“And I like the outfit. It’s cute.” Marcus winks and then walks in the opposite direction to where his car was parked. 

You bite your lower lip and watch him walk away before he disappears around the corner. You’re sure that you’re so pink in the cheeks because of your interaction with Marcus and while you’re excited for your first day at school, you’re also excited for when you could see him next. 

—

You’re exhausted by the time you get home, but the tiredness doesn’t even compare to the excitement you feel when you realize that there’s a possibility you could be seeing Marcus again. Your first day at work was busy, but it was always such a joy to be able to teach young kids and kindergartners always kept you on your toes. Having worked at a public school for most of your career, teaching kindergarten students at a private school was a little different. The class size was much smaller and you were able to establish your own curriculum and get as creative as you wanted.

You change into a pair of light gray lounge shorts, a white tank-top, and a black oversized cardigan. You pour yourself a glass of white wine, turn on some music, and then step out on your patio, leaning against the railing as you look out at your view. The sun is beginning to set and there’s a slight chilly breeze that makes you wrap your cardigan tighter around your frame. You only stay outside for a few more minutes before you head back inside to begin making dinner, setting aside a plate for Marcus. 

The boxes are still scattered around your apartment, but you had moved it around to make it easier to walk around. You’re already on your second glass of white wine when you finish cooking, but as you’re about to put enough food for Marcus on the plate, there’s a knock at your door. It’s a little after six in the afternoon, so when you open it to see Marcus on the other side, you feel your heart flutter and the butterflies in your tummy begin to swarm around again. 

“Marcus, hi.” 

“Hey,” he smiles. “Does that invite for dinner still stand?” 

“Of course,” you bite the inside of your cheek and nod. “As long as you don’t mind the mess, come on in. I just finished cooking.” 

Marcus steps inside and smiles to himself. Even if your apartment isn’t yet complete and you haven’t yet fully unpacked, it feels a lot more cozy and homey than his own and you had only moved in just a few days ago. When you shut the door, Marcus turns around to face you and he takes note of what you’re wearing. Your shorts expose enough of your legs and the tanktop you’re wearing sits just above your waistband and he can see just a tiny sliver of skin. 

“Smells delicious,” he points out, clearing his throat. Marcus has to look elsewhere before you catch him ogling. 

“Thank you,” you smile. “Want a glass of wine?” 

“That’d be great,” he replies. Marcus removes his blazer and drapes it over the back of one of your chairs at your kitchen island counter. He folds the sleeves of his button down shirt to his elbows and watches as you pour two glasses of wine and then sets food onto two plates. 

“I’m surprised you’re home early,” you say. “I thought you said you usually have late nights.” 

Marcus shrugs. “Guess I was eager to try this pesto pasta.” 

“Really?” you ask, eyes hopeful. 

“And I wanted to hear how your first day went.” 

You blush and set the glass of wine and plate of food in front of him. He takes a seat where his blazer was draped and you lean against the counter instead. “That’s very sweet, Marcus.” 

“Just trying to be a good neighbor,” he chuckles. “But if I’m overstepping any boundaries–”

“Not at all,” you interrupt all too quickly. “With me being new to the area, it’s nice to have someone like you around.” 

“Yeah?” Marcus smiles. 

“Yeah, now let’s eat. I’m starving and my day was exhausting.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he winks. Marcus takes a few bites of the food and grins at the taste, looking over in your direction. He watches you eat quietly to yourself and he notices the way your body is slightly swaying to the soft music in the background. Your happiness and joy is infectious and he finds himself smiling more and more around you. 

“This is really good,” he says your name and smiles when you look up at him. 

“I’m glad you think so. And I’m also glad you were able to leave work earlier than usual.” You set your fork down and then take a sip of your wine. “What do you do, by the way?” 

“FBI,” he says casually.

“Wait, what?” 

Marcus chuckles. “I’m a special agent for the FBI. My department deals with stolen arts and antiques.” 

“Now that sounds like a fun job.” 

He shrugs. “Hence the long hours and late nights.” 

“That would make sense.” You then move to sit next to him, turning in your seat to face him and Marcus turns his body to face you as well. 

“Enough about me,” Marcus chuckles. “How was your first day?” 

You grab your glass of wine and let out a contented sigh. Your arm is resting against the counter as you look up at him. “I know I said it was exhausting, but it was so fun,” you smile. “The kids are great and I’m just so excited to be able to make my own curriculum and have all the creative freedom. Public schools usually just give you their curriculum and tell you to teach it without giving you much wiggle room to make it your own. So, this is a nice change of pace.” You look into his eyes and bite your lower lip. He’s staring at you and you realize that you’re talking a bit too much. “Sorry, I just– I love teaching.”

“Sounds like it,” he smiles. “But I like hearing you talk. It’s nice.” 

You blush again and look down at your lap. You can still feel Marcus’s eyes on you, but it doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable. Instead, it does the opposite. You like the fact that he’s looking at you and he’s doing it in a way that makes you feel… seen. And it has been a while since you had a connection with anyone from the opposite sex – you were always so focused on work and didn’t have much time to date. Besides, most of the men you have been with weren’t all that great anyway. 

“So, tell me more…” Marcus says. 

“About teaching?” 

Marcus nods. “Sure. Or anything really.” 

“Oh, we’d be here all night,” you laugh, finishing your second glass of wine. “And I’m sure you have an early morning tomorrow, like I do.” 

Marcus chuckles. “You’re right. We shouldn’t get too crazy on a school night,” he winks. 

You laugh quietly and set your glass down on the counter. “So, Special Agent Marcus…”

“Pike,” he finishes. “Marcus Pike.”

“Oh, my favorite roast.”

Marcus arches a brow and lets out a chuckle. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“You know, Pike Place? Medium roast?”

Marcus shakes his head.

“Coffee, it’s coffee.” You laugh quietly. “It’s the only roast I’ll drink, really.” 

“Good to know,” Marcus says. He makes a mental note to buy a roast of Pike Place the next time he’s at the store.

“So, Special Agent Marcus Pike,” you repeat. “Sounds so… Official.” 

Marcus chuckles and he leans back against the chair, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m glad you think so.” 

“And here I am… Just a teacher,” you tease. 

“Just a teacher?” Marcus smiles. “I wouldn’t be in the FBI if I didn’t have great teachers. I’m sure you’re a good one too.” 

You blush. “I try to be.” 

Marcus smiles and stands from the chair, grabbing both empty plates and bringing it to your sink. 

“Marcus,” you say, following him towards the sink. “Just leave it. I’ll handle it.” 

“You cooked,” he replies, looking down at you. “At least let me help clean up.” 

“Are you sure you’re real?” you laugh quietly.

“What?” Marcus smiles. 

“You’re just so… Nice.” You bite your lower lip and look up at him. You want to say so much more: Cute, handsome, sweet, thoughtful… but you stop yourself from saying what you truly want to say. 

“Like I said,” Marcus says. “Just trying to be a good neighbor.” 

“Well, you sure are going above and beyond,” you point out. “You’re setting the bar pretty high for future neighbors,” you tease. 

“Maybe I just like you,” he winks. “Now, let me clean up these dishes and then I’ll be out of your hair.” Marcus turns back around and begins cleaning your dishes. You bite your lower lip and walk towards the leftovers, stealing a glance over in your direction to see him standing in front of your sink. His shirt is stretched over his broad back and you want nothing more than to just wrap your arms around him. 

You grab a clean plate and pour half of the leftovers onto it. Wrapping it in foil, you then set it aside. Marcus turns around and dries his hand with a paper towel, pointing at the plate on your counter. 

“Is that for me?” he asks.

You nod. “Figured you could take this for lunch tomorrow.” 

Marcus smiles to himself. “You’re sweet, thank you.” He walks back to his blazer and drapes it over his arm as he reaches for the plate. “So, are you heading out again tomorrow at six?” 

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“Great. That’s usually the time I leave too. Would you like some company on the elevator ride down to the parking garage? You know, in case something happens, at least you have an FBI special agent with you,” he teases with a smile. 

You smile to yourself and before you can think about it, you reach out to rest a hand on his forearm. You feel his muscle flex underneath your fingertips and immediately drop your hand back to your side. “I think that sounds like a plan. I’d hate to be stuck in an elevator all by myself,” you smile. 

“Looking forward to tomorrow morning then,” Marcus smiles. “Thank you again for dinner.” 

“Thanks for coming over, Special Agent Marcus Pike,” you wink. You both walk towards your front door and you open it for him. He steps out and looks down at you, smiling big enough that his dimple reappears. 

“Good night,” he says softly.

“Good night, Marcus.” 

—

Since that night, you and Marcus had developed a routine every morning. Both of you would be out of the door by six in the morning and accompany each other on the elevator ride down to the parking garage. It was something you both looked forward to every morning and it was the perfect way to start the day. 

Sometimes, Marcus would forget coffee and you’d be right there to hand him a cup. And other times when you’d forget your coffee, Marcus prided himself in giving you a travel mug with your favorite roast: Pike Place.

—

prev. - next.

[phantominzie]

Ranting about TSS

I would like to start by saying, yes, I am fully aware I don't post fandom rants very often (ESPECIALLY SASI). However, I've been feeling rather upset over the fandom and Thomas.

I would also like to mention that in no way is this attacking Thomas or any of his writers, hell, not even the fandom itself. I just need to let all of this out.

You're always totally free to skip over this, I know ts crit isn't everyone's cup of tea <3

To start, I am so just...tired? It's been so frustrating waiting for a finale for four fucking years and getting the bait and switch every time Thomas makes a post about 'upcoming Sanders Sides content!'

I understand taking time to work on something so important to cannon, but four years? I can also give him a little leeway for having some staff issues, but it's almost painful to only keep getting the series we love get downgraded so harshly over the years.

Almost all of the sides have been made so two dimensional. At first they felt so fleshed out, so real, and fandom focused their character on one sole trait (not unforgivable but a bit frustrating). Then, I guess Thomas just picked up on fandom and decided 'yeah! I'll just make them two dimensional too!' That's not what we want. And frankly that's never what we wanted. Occasionally, he'll give us breadcrumbs of character development, or show us a sliver of light to what they once were, but it's never the same.

And frankly, I feel bad for having my hopes so high for the finale. Sure it's been taking four years, but that doesn't mean it will be perfect, hell, it might suck. Of course, I will watch it, but I won't be happy about it. About the lies, about the bait and switch, about the constant merch plugs over actual content, about the four incorrect quotes over working on the finale, about the prioritizing of under five minutes long videos that no one will watch anyways.

I love that Thomas is working on things that make him happy, and I don't think I'll ever stop being happy about that, but he needs to take into heart that without content, merch won't sell anyways.

He made a tweet recently that said that we would be getting the finale in an uncertain number of weeks, but based on the past four years I don't even think it will come out at all. If it does, I swear that if we get a merch plug in the finale I'm going to lose my shit.

I want him to see that fandom can't carry itself, and that if he doesn't have that finale have the actually well done makeup we've been begging for, or have our three dimensional characters back, then he won't have a fandom at all.

I'm almost angry that this is my special interest at this point, I'm so let down by the direction the series is probably headed.

I hope that no one takes this the wrong way, and if people leave death threats in my inbox (which has happened to people posting ts crit; no i'm not joking) then trust that you won't be answered. No one is to tag Thomas on this post, and if Thomas even finds this post then heed the words I've said. This isn't a threat to you, and frankly it never was. What is it is the frustrations of a tired and exasperated fan.

I'm sorry if this has rubbed anyone the wrong way, I apologize if it has. I hope this doesn't make people think I'm becoming some TSS hater, I'm really not. But I'm frustrated, and that's normal

Thank you for reading this all the way through if your here, I love you <3

[balimaria]

I’m sure many of us are familiar with the similarities the Yu-boys have to their adjacent protagonists, some very much so (Yugo/Yusei) and some not quite so much (Yuto/Yuma). But the Yuri Duel Links event has got me thinking… they’re really leaning into the similarities Yuri has with Judai.

He’s always had a fair amount of parallels. There’s the obvious “they both went to a duel academia,” but there’s also the fact that they’ve both had major hands in carrying out mass genocides (jeez), or that they both underwent soul fusions with other character(s), or Judai and Yuri being the only characters to use Super Poly (except that one flunky in Zexal who randomly had it in his hand for one shot…) showing how Yuri is carrying on Judai/GX’s legacy as the Fusion counterpart (and 1/4th of another Supreme King)

OR, most relevant here, their focus on having fun above all else.

Yuri’s constant insistence that he’s here to have fun (which was a part of his character in the show, but it’s focused on much more in the event) and showing no interest in any “obligations” he may have outside of having fun (like apologizing or trying to repair any of the damage he’s done. You go girl give us nothing.)

It’s all very much akin to a pre-season 3 Judai who had little to no sense of responsibility and was almost solely motivated to duel (even when he really shouldn’t have been) by his desire to have fun. And while Yuri’s idea of fun is a little more sadistic than Judai’s (a little more like Yubel, even?) the point is the same. 

This line that Yuri says is what got me thinking deeper about this, because I remembered Judai says a near-identical one. (Apologies for the crusty png.)

Obviously they’re not going through the exact same development here. Judai’s arc is about being carefree to a dangerous extent, then swinging to the opposite extreme when he is suddenly saddled with very heavy burdens, and ultimately finding balance between the two: regaining his love of dueling while also bearing a sense of responsibility. Yuri’s arc (if you can call it that, it’s the beginning of one certainly) seems to be a more straightforward “discovering there are things that are fun and also do not come at the expense of other people’s lives” type deal, with a little bit of learning who the hell you’re supposed to be now that you aren’t part of a military school dictatorship or Zarc/Yuya’s soul amalgam sprinkled in. He’s discovering new toys! Everyone clap for him please.

Though it’s not just that fun things don’t have to come at the expense of others… but that it’s MORE fun when they don’t. And that’s the real step forward that Yuri makes in the event. Which honestly fits and doesn’t feel forced, which is something I was concerned about. That boy is a little cockroach! Let him crawl around and make people scream like he always does. Just… maybe some of those screams are of other people having fun too. Maybe. Someone should probably still make sure they're okay, though.

[deus-sema]

Disclaimer: This is the rant of a shipper who had expected a bit more combined with the concerns of an audience member who was left dissatisfied on certain fronts. It will contain both conjecture and wishful thinking.

What I genuinely liked about this season was that the performances were all par excellence and many dialogues were well written and masterfully delivered. One aspect that the finale did complete justice to was Annatar and Celebrimbor’s doomed partnership with Sauron’s ultimate betrayal culminating with the infamous Celebrimbanner. The entire season was leading up to that one last scene between them, which was flawless.

That being said, they couldn’t stick the landing with other subplots and  I might have an idea why.

A Finger In Every Pie

There were too many conflicts that needed to be addressed – if not outright resolved – by the time we reached the finale. Gandalf vs Dark Wizard, Isildur’s subplot, Numenor, Balroggate at Khazad-dûm, and Eregion, which was supposed to be the subplot driving this season. Ideally, most of these should have been resolved in the previous episodes with the finale focusing on Eregion and Khazad-dûm. Call it a side effect of having no more than eight episodes but the rest of the subplots were rushed or resolved abruptly.

The First Season: To embrace it or reject it entirely?

Some believe that the second season is an improvement from the first one but that was possible only because the first season laid the groundwork for every character, their dynamics, and the subplots, some of which paid off in S2. The risks the writers had taken with S1 were too major and there was no turning back the moment those decisions were made. Let’s make one thing clear. The opinions of that bigoted grifter gang who hate the show maliciously do not, and will never, count even the slightest bit. As far as the rest of the fans who simply chose to turn away from the show because of the liberties it took are concerned, then they cannot be appeased or wooed back. Once people make up their minds, it’s difficult to change it. What the showrunners should have done was embrace it fully as a fanfiction based on the source material and, gradually, let it evolve into its own thing The fans who liked it for what it was would stay for sure; with time, new ones will join in. Attempting to “fix” the perceived errors of the first season by divorcing the rest of the show from it isn’t going to work. Galadriel’s screentime was reduced, Bronwyn, one of the most important OCs of s1, was killed offscreen and wasn’t even afforded the dignity of a recast – if Nazanin’s desire to quit was the sole reason for this creative decision – like Adar was. Speaking of Adar, the way his arc was wrapped up was perhaps more anticlimactic than the Saurondriel showdown. Having him be betrayed and killed by the very children whom he cherished, in the same manner in which Sauron was assassinated, would have been poetic provided we had a season worth of development leading upto it. Having his protectiveness for his children turn into paranoia at the possibility of Sauron’s return, the Uruk’s discontent and disillusionment with him and Sauron preying on both to obtain his revenge on Adar would have been diabolical on his part and tragic for the Uruk because by the time they would’ve realised their folly, it would have been too late. But that didn’t happen and, just like that, another important link to the first season was severed and a subplot with immense potential was wasted. It also serves as a setback to one of the most ambitious objective the show flirted with: the humanization and a nuanced portrayal of the Orcs. It would have been one thing to have Glug be the only one to betray Adar at the last minute but all it took was two seconds for Sauron – the person whom they know doesn’t give a fuck about the Uruk and won’t think twice before torturing or killing them - to turn the lot of them against their Lord Father who had protected them until now. Sure, that makes Sauron appear super competent and Adar sympathetic but the Uruk got the shorter end of the stick. They came off looking like a bunch of gullible, bloodthirsty fools who have no integrity or loyalty and who live for carnage. The only reason why some of them started doubting Adar was because they believed he was leading them on a suicide mission chasing Sauron’s ghost. So, logically, finding out that Adar’s fears were right and Sauron – their tormentor and former oppressor – is back should have reinforced their loyalty to Adar. Instead, they all went back to square one. Adar – their representative - died. Glug - the most prominent one among them - died as well. What reason does anyone from the general audience have to care for them anymore? Rather, some would think they got what’s coming for them. Serves them right to betray poor Adar for Sauron who didn’t even have to lift a finger to manipulate them.

Much like everything else, Haladriel/Saurondriel is a child of s1 and it stands to reason that they backpedaled on it, like everything else. But I am also of the opinion that they aren’t willing to abandon it entirely yet. There is the marketing, for instance. Then, Sauron and Galadriel’s confrontation in s2 was predictable, rushed and somewhat lazily written. There are multiple ways in which it could have been improved. But he is still obsessed with her and she is still affected by him, despite hating him. From here, the writers can either grow a pair and further explore what they themselves established, that they want to emphasize on, through mind palace interactions or forced proximity – because time and distance matters not in tv world – or in any other way in the upcoming seasons or they can keep trying to appease the haters. The ball is in their court. Creatives chickening out is nothing new for shippers.

The Random Shock Value Effect

A certain show called GoT changed the landscape of television forever. No other pop culture phenomenon, save for the MCU’s Infinity Saga, came close to the craze it commanded in the last decade. Its influence on the tv shows that followed it cannot be overlooked. One aspect of it that was and still is overdone is including scenes that serve no purpose within the narrative for no other reason but momentary shock value or to ‘subvert expectations’. The Elron/driel kiss? Doing a Ser Barristan Selmy with Adar? All that isn’t going to work in the long run. It certainly didn’t for GoT.

[bombpunk]

brooooo the way some be/nji shippers completely disregarded the importance of darius's character in favor of pushing their own ship was actually so infuriating. maybe if they only did it with the monorail scene it wouldn't bother me so much since kenji was shaken up by ben's "death" but no they did it with EVERYTHING. "kenji spent every day and night dreaming about ben" this and "kenji would have dragged ben back to the boat if he tried staying behind on the island" that. yeah you mean like darius??? you mean like the literal main character of the show??? ERGH it'll never not drive me up the wall

i am SO GLAD other people have noticed this 😭 me and my bestie have been bothered about dinotwt’s behavior for YEARS.

personally it’s the monorail scene itself being turned into a ben/ji moment that bothers me most. because darius is the only one who tried to save ben from falling. DARIUS. darius is the one who couldn’t save him. DARIUS. but noooo they focused on how… *checks notes* kenji fell to his knees during a quick shot instead.

i’m not sure how the shippers are on this site because all my interaction with the jwcc fandom was solely on twt, but i find it Very interesting how important moments in darius and ben’s relationship are taken from them and pushed onto ben and kenji instead. darius unable to keep hold of ben? let’s make it about kenji instead. darius having nightmares about ben? no, obviously that was kenji having those! if they weren’t so obsessed with claiming benrius is problematic, they’d clearly be fans of the ship. that’s why they take all its material and give it to be/nji 💀 it also feels weird to me that they were so intent on demonizing a queer ship that involved a black boy, but maybe i’m just reaching there. i dunno

putting shipping aside, it is just downright antiblack to take pivotal moments of the black mc’s development and make them entirely about a nonblack character. why are you so allergic to letting the black character have focus? when black people already have such small amounts of decent representation in media, especially as main characters? it angers me so much.

tldr darius (and benrius) deserved better from the fandom (and the show, but that’s a convo for another time).

[stormbreakers45]

The Other Side of Suzui Ryota

What do you think of Suzui Ryota from Kakegurui? I can tell that most of you will tell that he's a useless character who always follows Yumeko's to wherever he go.

Most of Kakegurui fans are even not sure of what's purpose that Ryota serves in the Kakegurui plot so far and even in some forums, I saw many people makes fun of him by saying "Who the fuck is Suzui?" and there's also limited fanfictions or fanarts about him too.

Well, everybody can have their opinions, but is it justified to plainly deem Suzui Ryota as useless characters? I'm personally thinking it's not and I have one sole reason for it.

It is because Suzui Ryouta might be the only character in Kakegurui that has not clear past and much details besides the ones that the viewers saw in anime and the readers saw in the manga.

Kakegurui franchise has been up and running since 2017 until now. Besides its main manga, it's also already produced the character's spin-off like Mary's Kakegurui Twin or Midari in her own manga story.

And yet, In all those things, Suzui Ryouta's past or details about him are still lies in darkness while the other characters like Kirari, Sayaka, Yumeko, Mary, and many others are having their own "explanations" about who they are, what they do, and so on.

To understand that, first we need to at least to knows what's the intent of the author for Ryouta's character. In many articles, it is stated that Ryota is positioned as "observer" and "storyteller" to what's happened in Kakegurui's series, particularly about Yumeko's journey where he was acted as her companion throughout the story.

Compared to other characters, Ryouta seems doesn't have "other clear purpose" other than being a support and close friend to Yumeko.

But keep in mind that the official wiki still officially recognized Ryota as one of the main protagonists of the series. Then, it is raised some questions which correlates to my early statement. If he's one of the protagonists, then why any details regarding who he actually is and his past are very limited? or Will there any character development for him in the future?

To answer those questions, we will need to breakdown some key points about him and his correlation to the plot.

We already know a little about Ryouta in the beginning as he was fell into housepet status after losing to Mary in a gambling game, then he met Yumeko who helped him regain his human status, and then starts a friendship with her.

Besides of that, Ryota is also shown holding a position as class representation. Anything other than that ? nada. We don't know much more about his other activities in the school like if he's belong to any clubs in the school and so on.

Other things about him is, he's actually a very smart person who's excelling in his academic study (although Hyakkaou Academy is not focusing much on academic or sports). He's also very quick to understand what's going on in a gamble (both involved or just watching) and also has an expertise to analyse every single details and devising solutions.

This traits of his is showing several times in both manga and anime version, particularly around Yumeko's gamble against Midari where his approach is succesfully getting both him and Yumeko out from danger of Midari's game of death or how he quickly realize Kirari's manipulation on the entire tarot game.

It shows that Ryota is actually a good gambler and he has so many potentials on it. The only thing that holds him back is his low self-esteem, reluctant personality and low level of confidence. When he's with Yumeko, he's not only watch over her but he also learns a lot from her and after so many chapters in the manga, he's shown a growth in his gambling skills and confidence level which one point for his character development.

Another interesting point about him is how he seems the only one in Kakegurui franchise who doesn't have "psychopatic" traits like the others. He's shown to be a nice and kind person who also rarely holds grudge against people. His personality is calm and sensible which also added by his honesty trait.

Looking at those, it seems that we are looking Ryouta as the only colored thing in the middle of black and white. This is his exceptional things that makes him different and also on the same time, special from the other characters. To put it more dramatically, Ryota is like the sailor whose ship is trying to survive in the sea of madness which is the Hyakkaou Academy.

After that, from here thing is getting more interesting. Who is Suzui Ryouta actually is and his family background?

To begin with, there's no clear details on that, but the wiki said that he has unnamed parents. A Day after Yumeko helped him pay his 5 million yen debt to student council, Ryota is offering 1 million yen that he borrows from his parents to pay Yumeko back which Yumeko simply refused.

It's indicating that Ryota is coming from a rich family while it's also considering that how he can enrol in Hyakkaou possibly from regular way where he need to make frequent deposit to student council and school fee.

But who is Ryota's family is still clouded in dark. But we might have a lead on this. In one reddit thread few years ago, it is said that Ryota is coming from a famous wealthy baker family with the brand name "Seikadou". Here's the overview.

The interruptions when he's about to saying "Oh, It's our ..." is really one strong proof about his family's business. It is still not confirmed yet, but this cake business theory is the most logical one to explain more about him.

Another thing about him is, people don't realize that he is actually existed all the time in any of Kakegurui franchises so far, whether it's the main manga, twin, or Midari.

For example, both Kakegurui twin and Kakegurui Midari are both set in the previous year of main Kakegurui manga plot which makes Ryota is strongly possible in both spin-offs, although his names are not mentioned.

But is is definitely happened since the gap between the two spin-offs and the main story is only one year apart which means that Ryota is already there wandering the school and knows every events in both spin-offs like the raise of Mary, the full bloom society, and so on. After all, Ryota's is very aware of his surroundings so he's keeping on track.

What's he's doing on that period? It's still a big mystery, but judging from his behaviour, he might be living a quiet and ordinary gambling and schooling far from the spotlight. As mentioned above too, there's also question if whether he's involved in a club's school too.

Well, I can't say for sure, but Ryota is probably involved in one or maybe just spend his days of gambling and socializing with his friends. Just a completely ordinary guy.

For his love interest, well it's pretty obvious that Ryota probably holds a secret romantic feeling for Yumeko. He's stated it in sublime way when he's confessed that he wants to keep watching her in the best seat and walk with her when they faced Kirari in a tarot game. He even said that Yumeko's risk is also his risk which shows that he is ready to die anytime for Yumeko.

From this point, we already know there's so many undiscovered thing about Ryota's personal life and how his character's development happened in both manga and the anime which happened to be a lot without people noticing.

Being on the side of Yumeko all the time, Ryota is influenced by her but still in a positive way and accordingly. He's still trying to be himself and hopefully more of him will coming up so soon.

And that's it.

Hope you guys enjoy it.

Give me your thoughts in the comments yeah ?

[paddysol]

unstable universe is unstabling my universe p1

Everyone say thank you Pluto for encouraging my insanity! Please note I'm solely discussing Wemmbu’s character (and PrinceZam somewhat) in Unstable Universe from a lore standpoint. (This will be a mix of my own hc and how Ive perceived the events on the server- also i've literally only watched Wemmbu and am doing this from memory so bear with me)

God I have so many thoughts on UU!Wemmbu (and Mutiny Duo) dear lord. Like, the necessity of constantly being forced to put up a front due to the hunger games-esque environment of the server, the paranoia that has you looking over your shoulder, presenting yourself as a threat, making sure that you can back that statement as much as you can because if you’re seen as weak then you’re might as well dead. 

We see this in Wemmbu who, let's all be honest with ourselves, cares about the people around him (obviously to a degree, bc of the nature of the server) and the struggle between showing that care and taking care of himself. Like, the amount of times Wemmbu has threatened to ban someone and yet never followed through is Crazy. This man literally has never carried through with a death threat, and the reason why no one realizes that is because of the “infallible” persona he plays up, and his team-up with Zam’s crusade where they chunk-banned several players. Chunk-bans!! A temporary removal!! Someone needs to call him out for his empty threats. This man literally jumped into an arena to save Roshambo from FlameFrags because it was a losing battle and Roshambo was in danger of getting death-banned. He didn't need to. He already confirmed ManePear’s information and solidified their allyship. He didn't need to stick around. He didn't need to put himself in danger. Wemmbu knows he can't fight Flame and win, he actively compensates for those situations and avoids them without extensive planning Because he knows that. 

(Note: I am aware that he killed Tyrad, but consider that was a 3? 4? vs 1 fight on a server where players expect you to fight tooth and nail to live whether it be through totems, stasis chambers, escape, etc. When Wemmbu drops Tyrad there was genuine shock, muted or not. He didn't expect someone to Actually die. Reflecting on it is obviously not an option, he’s in the middle of breaking into a prison with several guards on his tail. Guards, who mind you, are stocked with the necessary effects for a fight. Additionally, when engaging in pvp Wemmbu tends to fight with the intention of escape, not actually killing his opponent.)

Of course, despite the violent nature of UU, developing a genuine relationship with other players is inevitable. Wemmbu makes several comments about ‘if he wanted to play alone, he'd load a single-player world.’ (Obviously a bit meta, but you know what I’m getting at.) And we see him do that. I’m mostly going to be focusing on PrinceZam and Eggchan as those (at least to me) are the most developed relationships, but there are hints of thought and care aimed at players we don't see too often. 

As I mentioned before, there's a struggle to show genuine care for a person on a server that will see that as a weakness and immediately exploit it. And we see that struggle between Zam and Wemmbu, who, despite consistently being at odds with each other, find satisfaction in that relationship. Sure, both of them are walking red flags, but there is genuine care in how they feel about each other, even if they're constantly holding back in order to maintain whatever image they've created for themselves. They're rivals. They constantly snarking, they're at each other's throats, they call out for each other in a fight, they make sure they have a full inventory (potions, gaps, enchant bottles, etc). They dress their worry with a lackadaisical attitude and are steadfast in believing that it's just that, even when their actions become entirely unnecessary. Wemmbu had a monopoly on the elytra, makes a point about it, yet easily gives one to Zam at the most logical opportunity (and then proceeds to give literally all of them to him sir wtf?? Crazy behavior I would never). Zam allows Wemmbu to treat him as someone other than a king, he lets him use the mace even if he was the one who got the heavy core; he trusts Wemmbu to have his back. Wemmbu traded the mace for Zam’s life not even knowing if it would work. They show love in the only way the server allows. And sometimes that care becomes too genuine, and they force themselves to pull back. 

“I’d never betray you- unless it's convenient.”

To reiterate, both Wemmbu and Zam have a plethora of issues, both are incredibly unreliable narrators who barely trusted each other but got very close. “I’d never betray you,” Wemmbu was too honest, that’s dangerous. “Unless it's convenient,” while definitely holding a modicum of truth, the statement feels so tacked on. Letting players know that you're attached to someone or something? Hell no. But even if he didnt mean it entirely and was mostly trying to save face (dare I say warn Zam from getting close?) he still said it. And of course Zam, who came from nothing and has built an empire, who has successfully worked to become someone who cannot be taken advantage of, who knows exactly how soft his underbelly and how to ensure no one else finds out, fixates on that. How can’t he? This is a man who, with every step, is looking back and allowing his history to haunt him. This is something that clashes so loudly with Wemmbu, who can't afford to think about the past, who can only change the present, who must persevere forward. Until Zam blows up the kingdom he asked Wemmbu to build. 

(Note: This analysis? Idk what im doing anymore im just yapping- Is more focused on Wemmbu than Zam, but I am aware that he likely has own complicated perspective that plays into his actions.)

At first the change in their relationship is subtle, small shows of power from Zam, a reminder that he is a king. Then it becomes sickly familiar tactics, tactics that Wemmbu has always accompanied, never faced. Their rivalry turned sour, every interaction they have haunted with what used to be. Wemmbu, who cares so much, watches the physical manifestation of his loyalty to Zam be blown up and thrown in his face, ‘my sweet, sweet Wemmbu’. He was used, manipulated, underestimated by someone who he, against all odds, cared for. Hate begins to fester, Wemmbu calls it a betrayal. You can't betray someone who didn't mean anything to you first. 

And then we’re able to witness unfiltered care between Wemmbu and Eggchan. We watch the pretense of the “infallible” player fall as he dresses himself in diamond, giving the netherite to his friend instead. As he ensures Egg’s safety in his schemes, as he trusts Egg to have his back, takes fights he knows he cant take so that Egg has more time to get out. And that loyalty is reciprocated tenfold. Egg is allowed numerous opportunities to leave, yet he chooses to stay despite the hardships. It's everything that was just out of reach for Zam and Wemmbu. (There's definitely a lot more to talk about but this is already gonna be so long). Egg won't stand by as his friend begins to come undone at the seams. He wont play into the cutthroat game this server has spun itself into. Which of course has consequences. While off on their chunk-banning crusade Zam and Wemmbu inevitably learned what made the other person tick. Kidnapping Egg was just another move on the chessboard bc god forbid that even if they hate each other, they take their eyes off each other for a second. 

This functions as the last straw, one last ditch attempt from Wemmbu in his war with Zam, he can't promise success but he sure as hell makes sure that he hits where it hurts. He blows his kingdom sky-high. And eye for an eye and a debt settled.

And then Zam apologizes. It's not necessarily out of the blue, for all the hurt he’s enacted on Wemmbu he's kept him alive for one reason or another (they are emotionally constipated dumbasses who care about each other and refuse to admit it). This changes everything and nothing. Despite the genuine admittance of grief and regret, the two don't pull their punches. They can only guess how many totems they've popped and how many are left. They switch foils. For a brief moment Zam does not allow his past to haunt him, ‘I don't want to accidentally kill you.’ Wemmbu, for all his persevering, for all his ability to focus on what he can do now, cannot let go of their past. For the first time, Wemmbu does want to kill a player. 

We’ll never find out if he wouldve carried through.

(ending this now bc this is too long and i have even more to say about the prison eps tbh, havent written in out yet tho T-T)

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter XVII.

GIF by darksber

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Obligatory storm chapter.

WORD COUNT: ~13.4k

RATING: 18+ Explicit topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: the crime plot is slowly but surely progressing, smut, a very wet blowjob, p in v sex, dirty talk bc duh, using panties as a gag, praise praise praise, javi being soft and vulnerable my god, STEVE MURPHY MENTION!!, if there's typos/grammatical errors just pretend that there's not, other things that i'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: i'm just absolutely feral over these two... that is all <3 as always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3 [ paloma's piano song ]

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

Javier wanders through the quiet aisles of the library, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet as he makes his way towards the now familiar astronomy section.

He pauses occasionally, eyes scanning the titles on the spines of countless books, searching for something that might hold the answers he’s looking for. 

What begun as a mere attempt to impress Paloma had unexpectedly blossomed into a genuine interest. It was during a reading on lunar cycles that a sudden gut feeling prompted him to revisit the case files.

And there, in the minutest of details, he spotted a new pattern.

Each date of the murders fell in perfect alignment with the full moon phase. This illuminated the otherwise randomness of the crimes—one girl per month, precisely when the moon shone its brightest. 

He read over the files at home, searching for any significance the moon held within the context of the original group, but found nothing. This raised a crucial question: Is this the same group resurfacing, or a new player putting his own spin on things? Understanding this pattern isn’t just a matter of detail; it’s essential for deciphering the motive.

The slow progress of the investigation is frustrating, with each discovery taking its sweet fucking time to unfold. But at least this is some kind of development.

“Did you find what you were lookin’ for?” Paloma’s whisper catches his attention, drawing him from his focused search. He glances through the narrow gaps between the shelves and books to find her standing on the other side. Her dazzling brown eyes meet his, a warm smile tugging at her lips.

“Yeah, actually,” he scratches at his jaw, “She’s standin’ on the other side of this thing.” Flirtatious as ever, he’s pleasantly surprised to see her. She hadn’t mentioned working today during their phone call last night.

Then again she might’ve, but after talking her through an orgasm then finishing in his own fist shortly after, Javier was more focused on reeling himself in from how good her pretty little voice sounded while she was whispering pure filth into the receiver. 

Part of her face is hidden, yet he doesn’t miss the entertained expression that dances across her features.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any books on the moon, would you?” He asks, trying not to let his mind drift to the sounds of her moans and pants over the static of the phone.

“I don’t think there are any libraries on the moon,” she banters playfully, “but we can always call the NASA hotline and ask.” Her teasing has him rolling his eyes, yet he can’t hold back a lopsided smile.

“Alright, smart ass, you know what I meant.”

She laughs softly, her amusement barely contained as she tries not to disturb the other patrons. “Yeah, we got a couple. They’re on this side, though.”

He licks his lips slowly, narrowing his gaze. “Really? Because I see a few right here.” He pulls out two books that had caught his eye before she arrived, holding them up for her to see.

“Yeah, but there are better ones over here.” Paloma’s voice is inviting as she slowly starts to move down the aisle, her presence a tempting distraction, and he follows like a desperate puppy.

They reach the end of the row, and now her eyes narrow teasingly, silently urging him to make the first move.

Which he does, obviously.

Rounding the tall shelf, he wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her close. The warmth of his body against hers is very welcomed, and she looks up at him with bright eyes that are swimming in excitement.

“You’re very lucky there ain’t no cameras back here,” Paloma breathes out in a hushed tone. He presses her back against the flat end of the wooden surface, gazing down at her.

She bites her lip and his eyes lock onto the movement, bringing his thumb up to gently pull the flesh from between her teeth. “Lucky me,” he murmurs, dipping his head to place a tender kiss on her cheek.

She pouts. “Really? Just on the cheek?”

“You make it so hard to be normal about this.” Javi leans in to kiss her properly, her lips warm and soft, tasting faintly of the coffee she had earlier.

His forearm rests against the shelf, towering over her, hip jutting out slightly. In his other hand, he easily holds the two books.

The sound of their kiss breaking has her blushing, hoping no one was nearby to hear it. Thank God this area of the library is usually a dead zone.

Her eyes fall to the items he’s holding. “Still keepin’ up with this shtick?” she jests, unable to help herself from doing so. Her laughter tapers off quickly when he shoots her a hardened look.

“Sorry,” she manages between snickers. “That was rude. M’glad you’re actually enjoyin’ it.”

“This shtick helped me notice a pattern. It’s why I’m here, actually. Looking for more information before I reach out to the professor at UCLA again.”

Paloma reaches out to play with the golden star pinned to his chest, her fingers tracing its edges as she listens intently. “What’s the pattern?” she looks up at him with genuine curiosity.

He explains, and she is truly awestruck at how intricate it all really is. It’s the same feeling she got after watching the press conference. “When’s the next full moon?”

“In two days.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“I don’t know,” he admits with a sigh, “Maybe enforcing a curfew. Make sure everyone is safe and at home. That won’t be very difficult to do considering the storm that’s headed this way.”

When it rains, it pours. The last time their little town had seen any type of precipitation was the day of Nina’s funeral, and that seems like it was forever ago. Now, they’re being warned of some pretty strong winds and potential flooding.

“Then maybe nothin’ll happen,” she suggests, her voice hopeful.

“I sure fucking hope so,” Javi’s eyes drift to the nearest window where he sees the gray clouds gathering in the distance.

He’s frowning, lost in thought, and she reaches out to get him to look at her again. “No need to get all frowny. Save all that for the town hall later tonight.”

Javier exhales sharply through his nose, rolling his shoulders, his attention back on her. “You excited to see your future husband?”

She knows he’s talking about the mayor, yet she can’t help the way her heart flutters at the idea of that being him. She shakes those delusions away as his brown eyes hold an expectant stare.

“Y’know I could say yes ‘n use this as an opportunity to piss you off, but I’m bein’ good today—so I’m as excited to see him as you are to have to be up there with him.”

“You’re bein’ good today?” He cocks his head to the side, staring down at her with a roguish smile. “And you wouldn’t get very far with trying to piss me off. I know that asshole has nothing on me.”

“I’m always good, Javi,” she purrs, though her tone suggests otherwise. Her eyes darken slightly as she hooks her fingers onto his duty belt, pulling him closer.

His knee moves between her thighs, and she silently curses the fact that she wore jeans to work today. “You might think that, but we dunno know for sure… still gotta try him out myself. See if it really compares.”

The arm that was resting against the shelf comes down, and he wraps his fingers around her throat, holding her with a tantalizing pressure that gets her wet and throbbing.

A gentle moan sneaks past her lips. “You wanna ‘try him out,’ be my guest, nena. I don’t give a fuck.”

“Really, ‘cause it feels like you do,” she quips, her fingers grazing the growing bulge between them.

Javier’s grip on her throat tightens ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing with a possessive intensity. “Cálmate,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl.

“Make me.”

They’re jolted back to reality when a bang echoes from nearby, the sharp sound enough to have him loosen his hold and pull back from her. “Like I said, you make it real fucking hard to be normal about this. ‘I’m always good, Javi’ my ass,” he mocks her with a wry smile.

She giggles, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, as she bites down on her thumb. The sight of him flustered only entertains her further. “M’sorry… can’t help but poke the bear.”

Their moment is further interrupted by the abrupt static of his walkie-talkie coming to life. An officer’s voice garbles through, requesting his assistance with a disturbance at the grocery store.

“Be right there,” Javier responds flatly, his mood shifting as he hands her the books he plucked out. “Weather’s got people acting like fucking idiots. I’ll come back for these later.”

“Don’t sweat it,” she reassures him, clutching them to her chest. “I’ll bring ‘em tonight. Give ‘em to you after the meetin’.”  She’s visibly bummed that their time together is cut short, but remains optimistic about seeing him again. Soon, hopefully. Maybe on another date.

“Thank you, baby. I’ll see you then.” Javier leans in for a departing kiss, this one softer and sweeter. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of him calling her baby or any of the other terms of endearment that he has for her.

He adds a gentle nuzzle of his nose against hers before pulling away and making his exit, leaving her feeling all lovestruck against the bookshelf.

He knew the meeting was going to be a shit show. After putting out all relevant information through the press conference, the department has never been busier. Phones ringing left and right with false accusations, bullshit information, and the occasional prank call.

Partially expected but annoying nevertheless. No progress, aside from his own little lunar revelation, has been made.

So it makes sense that the people of Seminary are currently acting out in the stands of the high school’s gym. An unorthodox place to meet, but the rain had exposed leaks in the government building’s weathered roof so they had to improvise and move it here.

Javier leans against the fold out table that is placed right in the middle of the basketball court, arms crossed, watching Jonah Abbott deflect every question thrown his way, answering with something completely unrelated. Typical politician.

He rubs at his temples, craving a cigarette. His eyes scan the crowd until he sees Paloma sitting on the far left side, their gazes meeting and her mouth curving into a small smile which has him feeling a little less miserable about being here.

That is until the crowd starts to get riled up again, being very vocal about their gripes with the murders, as if officials haven’t been working tirelessly to figure things out.

The girl in the hospital remains unconscious and unidentified—who knows when she’ll wake up.

Another dead end just as they thought they were gaining some traction. Their knowledge of the occult only takes them so far.

Fear and anger envelop the room with an oppressive weight, voices escalating, each question sharper and more accusatory than the one before as frustration boils over.

“How can we expect y’all to keep us safe if more dead girls are bein’ found left and right?!” a man shouts, pointing his crooked finger at the three of them.

“This is what happens when we stray from the Lord ‘n quit instillin’ His will onto our children!” an elderly woman with an actual Bible clutched to her chest cries out.

“Maybe s’best if we took matters into our own hands ‘n found this son of a bitch ourselves!” another voice yells, and murmurs of agreement ripple through the crowd.

His jaw tightens. He’s well aware that the deep-seated religious beliefs of this town run strong; and the murders, with their disturbing satanic imagery, have only heightened the community’s fears and suspicions. 

“Folks, I understand your frustration,” Jonah starts and this gets an eye roll out of Javi who plays it off by looking down at his boots, “We’re doin’ everythin’ in our power to find who’s responsible for these heinous crimes. But takin’ the law into your own hands is not. the. answer. It’ll only lead to more chaos and possibly more innocent people gettin’ hurt.”

“The law ain’t doin’ nothin’ but sittin’ back ‘n lettin’ it happen!”

Comments and questions fly at them from all directions, with smaller arguments erupting on either side of the gym. Javier and Romeo exchange a knowing look, silently expressing their shared annoyance.

The sheriff steps up, taking control to regain the order that the incompetent mayor had lost.

“What’s important right now is that we all get prepared for the bad weather that’s hittin’ us pretty bad these next couple of days. S’already startin’ to pick up outside now,” Romeo announces, his deep voice cutting through the chaos.

Quiet murmurs fill the space, the faint sound of rain hitting the roof almost amplified now that it has been pointed out.

“Most of the town is gonna be shuttin’ down tomorrow at midday, so I suggest gettin’ your essentials and supplies tonight or in the mornin’ before you’re shit out of luck,” he continues, his tone brooking no room for nonsense.

His crassness serves its purpose, smothering most of the arguments from before. He motions for his right hand man to continue, and Javier clears his throat, straightening his posture and pushing himself off the table.

“We will be upping patrols and enforcing a curfew after the storm passes through,” His voice reverberates through the room, steady and authoritative. “The anonymous tip line is still running in case anyone sees or hears anything out of the ordinary.”

Javier scans the crowd, making eye contact with as many people as he can, trying to convey his sincerity and determination.

“We understand that these are frightenin’ times,” The sheriff interjects. “We’re dealin’ with somethin’ unprecedented, ‘n it’s natural to feel scared or frustrated. ‘Specially when they’re bastardizin’ the word of God. But we need to stand together, support one another, and trust that we are doin’ everythin’ in our power to bring this person to justice.”

The room is silent now, the only sound is the soft patter of rain and the distant rumble of thunder.

Javier notices Paloma again, her eyes fixed on him like he’s the only person in the world, and he almost stumbles over his words as he continues with the more procedural part of the announcement.

“We’re also working closely with weather experts to monitor the storm. We’ll keep you updated with any new information as it comes in. In the meantime, stay vigilant, look out for your neighbors, and follow the curfew to ensure everyone’s safety.”

The townspeople nod, their faces a mix of concern and reluctant acceptance. He knows that words alone won’t be enough to quell their fears, but he hopes that this assembly has at least provided some clarity and direction.

After a few more closing remarks, the meeting ends, and Abbott wastes no time approaching him and the sheriff. “That was great work, gentlemen. Lost ‘em for a second there, but you two wrangled ‘em back under control. S’why I got the best of the best…” his words are slick, and Javier can see right through the man’s bullshit, “that will hopefully bring an end to all this madness soon, right?”

Abbott doesn’t care about the town’s safety—he just wants the murders solved so the media attention goes away. The newfound scrutiny is clearly bothering him.

Apparently there is such thing as bad press.

“We’re workin’ as hard as we can,” Romeo replies curtly, his voice tight with barely restrained irritation.

Javier quickly bows out to ‘prevent any dispute from breaking out in the parking lot’ but really, it’s because he knows he won’t be able to hold his tongue against the arrogant mayor if he’s around him any longer.

He positions himself by the large exit double doors as the crowd files out. Javi nods to those he recognizes from the bar or his frequent patrols in town. The weight of their expectations adds to the already heavy burden on his shoulders.

Just another part of the fucking job.

When the last person exits, he chains the doors closed and jogs over to his truck.

The rain falls gently, wetting his hair and sending droplets running down the roughened texture of his bomber jacket.

“Here are your books, space cowboy.” Paloma’s voice catches him by surprise. She seems to appear out of thin air, a colorful umbrella shielding her from the rain.

“Gracias, palomita,” he takes them from her and puts them in the cab of his truck.

“Tough crowd,” she remarks, looking around as more cars pull out, leaving the lot empty.

“They’re just scared. Fear makes people act out like that.”

“You handled it well. Unlike others…” Her tone carries a hint of amusement, eyeing his wet appearance and how the raindrops fall from the curve of his nose and the cut of his cheekbones. So dreamy.

He chuckles dryly, “Tell me about it.”

Just as the conversation begins to drift into flirtatious territory, Romeo’s car pulls up beside them with the window rolled down.

Javier is glad he resisted the urge to step forward and kiss her in the rain, though he knows she would have liked that.

Her father? Probably not so much.

“Finally got Abbott to stop runnin’ his mouth. S’like talkin’ to a spoiled brat,” he complains, clearly frustrated.

Paloma finds this interesting, especially given how he used to advocate for her to give Jonah a shot and go out on one date with him.

It never happened, and now her father’s irritation is almost a satisfying twist.

“You campin’ out in that dogshit trailer of yours?” Romeo asks Javier, shifting the conversation.

“Don’t have much of a choice.”

“You’re better off stayin’ with us.”

The comment throws him off but he doesn’t convey it, gaze flickering over to Paloma, who has an encouraging look already in her eyes.

Accept the fucking invite! It’s a dangerous, dangerous game, but one he’s foolish enough to be tempted to play.

“You sure?” Javi asks, a subtle trace of hesitation in his voice.

“Positive. Got more than enough room. Beats bein’ hunkered down with just this one,” Romeo jokes, glancing at his daughter.

“Jeez, daddy, thanks,” she playfully shakes her head, a smile tugging at her lips as she rounds the car and gets into the passenger seat, closing and shaking off her wet umbrella.

“Alright,” he concedes and she’s over the freaking moon, “Thanks. I appreciate it. See you all tomorrow.”

Romeo nods in acknowledgement and Paloma winks at him behind her father’s back.

She is kneeling over her plants when Javier shows up the following day. The rain from last night and this morning has finally let up, and she’s using this pocket of dryness to put row covers over her garden to shield it from the severe weather.

“I’ve always admired a girl who likes to get her hands dirty,” he says from behind her with a cocky grin. She turns to face him, mud covering her overalls and caking her rain boots.

“How original,” she replies, wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her gloved hand, smearing some dirt there in the process. “So damn humid, feels like the devil’s ballsack out today.”

Javi chuckles and steps closer, affectionately wiping the dirt from her forehead. “You have a way with words, sweetheart. Where’s your dad?”

“Went to get a few last-minute things ‘fore town closed up.”

“So I can kiss you without having to look over my shoulder?”

“Dunno if you wanna do all that when I’m dirtied up like this.”

“I think you wear the mud real nice,” he murmurs, pulling her to him. He places a wet kiss on her lips, which she reciprocates without hesitation, her tongue breaching his mouth.

“Guess I’m not too dirty for you after all,” she whispers when they part, a flirtatious simper ghosting over her mouth.

“Never that, preciosa. Do I need to remind you how dirty you were over the phone the other night?” he raises a brow, voice dropping to a low timbre that sends a thrill up her spine.

“You might, actually…” Her pulse quickens, a flush creeping up her neck as she recalls their late-night conversation.

It was the first time she’d ever done anything like that, and while she felt a bit embarrassed at the start, Javier’s soothing, erotic guidance had turned it into something fucking incredible. Everything he does is fucking incredible.

He hums appreciatively, “Wouldn’t mind that,” his fingers brush a stray strand of hair away from her face.

He leans in again, capturing her lips in another kiss. His hands slide down to her hips, tracing the exposed skin along the side openings of her overalls, squeezing gently.

Paloma could really die a happy woman in his arms. 

Javier groans softly, the sound vibrating against her mouth, making her knees weak. “I should help you finish covering these plants before the storm hits,” his tone makes it clear he’s struggling to pull himself away from her. “Before your dad gets home.” He clarifies. 

“Yeah, you probably should,” she agrees, but not without placing a sweet peck to his chin.

As if she needed his help, but hey, when a man is willing; why not unload some of the labor onto him? 

She hands him a row cover, her fingers lingering on his as they exchange the material. “Can’t have ya standin’ around lookin’ all pretty while I do all the hard work.” She beams.

“We certainly can’t have that,” there’s a grin on his face as he moves to help her finish the task.

Javier’s hands are deft and strong as he secures the covers, getting dirtied up and looking straight up manly. It has her clit tingling with arousal, imagining his fingers inside of her again and how fucking amazing they felt when she rode them in the bed of his truck. 

Between his uniformed presence and country boy charm—this man is going to be the death of her.

His eyes never stray far from her, drinking in every detail of her mud-splattered appearance as she moves between planter boxes.

She catches him looking each time, sending a wink his way and his tongue pokes against his cheek bashfully.

He can’t help it, Paloma is just so beautiful.

A piece of wood, obscured by the mud, has Javier tripping over it, his feet betraying him as he loses balance on the slick, muddy ground.

Her hands fly up to cover her mouth in shock, eyes wide as she watches him go down, mud splattering everywhere.

She almost bursts into laughter but catches herself, the worry for him outweighing the amusement.

“Oh my goodness gracious, are you okay?!” she rushes towards him and discards her gloves.

Javier lies on his back, the cold, wet mud oozing through his shirt and coating his skin. He looks up at her, squinting one eye close. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he grunts, despite the faint ache he feels at his lower back.

Sitting up, he extends his hand towards her to get him back on his feet.

As soon as their hands touch, he seizes the moment. With a mischievous grin, he yanks her down with him.

She gasps, a startled shriek escaping her lips as she tumbles into the thick, squelchy mud beside him. 

“I knew you were goin’ to do that!” she exclaims with exasperation and laughter.

“And yet you still tried to help me up anyway,” he retorts with a playful smirk.

With a flick of her wrist, she sends a handful of mud flying at him. It lands squarely on his cheek, sliding down in a comical, slow-motion descent until it plops into a heap on his lap.

“Oops,” she says with a feigned innocence.

In mere moments, they’re both engulfed in a muddy, joyful chaos. They spring to their feet and Javier begins to chase her around the garden, both of them taking turns flinging mud at each other.

They’re so engrossed in their antics that they don’t notice Romeo’s return.

The sight of them through the large bay window in the kitchen catches him off guard. He furrows his brows, puzzled and slightly amused by the raucous scene.

“Y’all look like a pair ‘a pigs runnin’ around like this.” her father’s voice rings out, dripping with bemusement as he descends the back porch steps.

His sturdy boots thud against the wooden planks when he approaches, gaze sweeping over them, taking in the sight of their disheveled, mud-coated figures.

“Javi slipped tryin’ to help me put the covers on and it was the funniest thing ever,” Paloma explains, her voice a little too high-pitched as she fails to clean herself up completely, wiping at her muddy cheeks, only managing to spread it further.

“Well, I reckon that’s one way to make a mess of things,” Romeo drawls, his gaze fixed on Javier with a pointed, almost accusatory edge.

Javier, caked in mud and feeling every bit like an overgrown teenager caught in trouble, manages a self-deprecating laugh. “Guess I’m not as graceful as I thought.”

He knows he needs to have the awkward conversation sooner rather than later. He has to tell Romeo about his relationship with Paloma and face whatever fallout comes with it.

She insists that her father will eventually come around, but it’s the immediate, explosive reaction that he dreads. He has to brace himself for the storm of anger and disappointment that is sure to erupt.

It won’t happen today nor tomorrow—not when he’s been offered shelter under his roof that Javi had stupidly agreed to, just to be near his fucking daughter.

What’s romance without a little risk?

“Well shit, if you wanna rinse off, I’d give it about…” Romeo glances up at the sky, his eyes calculating the darkening clouds. “Ten minutes ‘fore it starts raining again. Or you can use the hose,” he adds, gesturing towards the garden hose coiled beside the shed. 

“M’not gonna get caught in the storm. Don’t wanna get shocked up. We’ll use the hose.” Paloma replies.

“Right,” he grunts, rubbing his jaw. He waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I gotta finish puttin’ everythin’ away inside. Sure I can trust y’all out here?”

What a loaded fucking question.

“We’ll be fine, daddy. S’just a little mud.”

“I’ll try not to slip again,” Javier adds with a dry laugh, hoping he didn’t just make himself look like a clumsy idiot in front of the older man.

The sheriff snorts and gives a curt nod. “Alright then, you do that. Don’t need y’all trackin’ muck into the house.” He mutters, turning on his heel and heading back inside. 

Javier watches him go, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he turns to Paloma. “Skatin’ on thin ice,” he says, beginning to walk towards the shed and trying to get some of the wet dirt off him.

Paloma’s smile fades slightly, a hint of frustration edging her words. “Wouldn’t be if someone––”

“Okay,” he cuts her off gently, already knowing where that conversation is headed. “Let’s rinse off before he comes back out here and kicks my ass.”

She huffs out a laugh, “Fine. Glad you knew where I was goin’ with that.”

Javier reaches for the hose, adjusting the nozzle to a gentle spray, then aims it at her soiled overalls. The cool water hits the fabric, making the mud dissolve into dark, swirling rivulets. As the grime starts to wash away, he moves methodically, making sure to hit every spot.

Paloma watches him, her heart warming at his careful attention. The water cascades down her clothes, revealing glimpses of her soft curves beneath the mess.

When he’s done, she takes the hose from him with a mischievous grin. “Mi turno.”

As she works, she decides to be bold by reaching out to touch him. Her fingers brush against his skin and Javier’s throat bobs, meeting her eyes with a wary look then glancing over her shoulder to make sure Romeo wasn’t watching them from the house.

“Thin. Ice.” He repeats.

“Live a little,” she counters with a playful lilt.

She leans in closer, her wet body brushing against his as she continues to rinse. The proximity feels like a charged exchange of impulsiveness since they both can’t seem to keep their hands off each other, even with the looming threat of her father’s presence just inside. 

When she finishes, Paloma sets the hose down, her fingers lingering longer than necessary, his shirt clinging to his torso, accentuating the lines of his muscles, luring her in.

She looks up at him. “All clean.”

“You want him to kill me.”

“No, this is just fun… ‘n I love seein’ you squirm like a lil worm.”

He licks across the bottom row of his teeth, “You keep fuckin’ around like this, nena, and I’ll have no choice but to put you in your place.” She wants him to squirm, fine, but he’ll make sure to return that energy tenth fold.

“That a promise?”

“You really want to see how far you can push me, huh?”

“Un poco.” She pinches her thumb and pointer finger together, mocking him and he scoffs.

“Gettin’ in over your head babygirl. Now’s not the time to do this, not when I can’t bend you over and fuck you stupid. Then you wouldn’t have a choice but to shut up and be compliant.”

Oh fuck, his words go straight to her pussy and her heart skips a beat. “Who says you can’t do that?”

Javier groans. Nope, not doing this right now. “You’re baiting me like a fuckin’ fish and I’m not gettin’ hooked. Inside. Go.”

She smirks like she’s just won the fucking lottery, stomping back towards the house with her chin held high.

If anyone is in over their heads here it’s him, accepting Romeo’s invitation to stay knowing Paloma is his greatest temptation.

The rest of the afternoon unfolds with a sense of normalcy, despite the tempest raging outside. The sky has grown dark, pierced by occasional flashes of lightning that illuminate the living room. Thunder rumbles intermittently, its low growl resonating through the house, while the wind howls and the rain pelts against the windows, creating a rhythmic drumming sound that is soothing yet insistent.

Inside, the atmosphere is comforting. After showering off their mess from the mud, they settle into the warmth of the house.

Paloma busies herself in the kitchen, preparing an early dinner just in case the power goes out. 

They used to have a back up generator, but it crapped out on them last year and her father, ever the forgetful one, never got around to replacing it.

Javier and Romeo are engrossed in a tense card game at the dining table, their competitive banter punctuated by the clinking of chips and the shuffling of cards.

They sneak glances at each other every so often, their eyes conveying what they can’t say aloud.

Lingering touches become their secret language—his fingers brushing her arm when he scoots past her to grab another beer from the fridge, her body pressing subtly against his as she reaches over to grab something from the table.

If there was ever a time to show restraint, it’s now. She treats this as a game, trying to get him to break in front of her father, to force him into a confrontation.

Her eyes sparkle with mischief, daring him to give in. He meets her gaze with a steady determination, silently promising that he won’t let her win so easily.

Eventually the three of them migrate to the living room. Romeo, having suggested an old movie to pass the time, is sprawled out on the couch, his snores becoming a steady background noise.

The movie plays on the screen, its dialogue a distant murmur amidst the storm. It’s a miracle the power hasn’t gone out yet.

Paloma uses this brief respite to seize a moment alone with Javier.

Quietly beckoning him down the hall, she leads him to the family dining room where a grand piano sits in the corner. It was a gift from the church, given to her on her tenth birthday.

After flicking on the lamp, she settles onto the bench, her fingers poised above the keys with a delicate grace.

She begins to play, her touch tentative at first, then gradually more confident as the familiar notes fill the room.

Javier leans against the door frame, mesmerized by the scene before him. He watches her intently, captivated by the subtle expressions that flit across her face as she listens to each note, her eyes closed in concentration.

He breaks the spell with a gentle question, “How long have you been playing?”

She glances over at him, her expression wistful. “Ever since I could, really. Momma wasted no time in teachin’ me.” Her voice carries a touch of nostalgia, a subtle sadness that she hopes goes unnoticed.

She’s relieved when Javier doesn’t press further. Instead, he simply nods, his understanding evident in his gaze.

“Come sit,” Paloma invites, her voice honeyed like it always is. She shifts slightly on the bench, patting the empty space beside her.

Javier moves to join her, their shoulders brushing. He’s too damn broad to be sitting on this small ass seat.

He does feels a flutter of excitement at hearing her like this. It’s different from her shows at the bar, more intimate and personal, reminding him of that time in the shed when he was fixing her car and she played her guitar.

The memory of her song about Nina, which she hasn’t brought up since that day, lingers in his mind.

“It ain’t anythin’ new, just an old song I wrote after George,” she begins, and a small, sad smile touches her lips. He wants to kiss it away. “It’s my favorite to play on the piano. You can really feel the heartbreak.”

“Your heartbreak?” he asks, the question slipping out before he can catch it. He bites the inside of his lip, worried that he’s overstepped somehow.

“Mhm,” she doesn’t mind, opening the folder that rests against the music desk and pulling out her short-hand sheet music. “Took me so long to finish it. I was stuck on this bench for what felt like an eternity before I got it done.”

He doesn’t know what to say and she doesn’t expect him to be necessarily chatty. They’re taking turns showing their vulnerability, sharing a little at a time at a pace that seems to be benefiting them both and their relationship.

The room is filled with the soft, melodic strains of the piano as she starts again, blending with the patter of rain and rumbling of the thunder. Her voice joins shortly after, and the entire time Javier can’t keep his eyes off her. 

Beneath the warmth of his admiration, Paloma feels oh so exposed. She’s never played this for anyone before, and the only reason she’s doing it now is because she wants him to understand why it’s so important to her that he doesn’t love her in secret. That he doesn’t string her along.

She’s already been through that heartbreak before, and it left her with this nasty, harrowing feeling that didn’t go away for years. Now, considering everything they’ve been through, she knows she won’t be able to recover if things go awry again.

And he listens—Javi listens to each word that falls from her lips, her voice soft to compliment their surroundings.

She’s got real talent; he’s known that from the dozens of times he’s been at her shows, hell it was evident at the fair. But here, with just her voice and the piano, weaving a story that is both haunting and beautiful; she’s opened herself up to him, letting him glimpse her pain.

She doesn’t do it in a verbal confrontation; she does it in her own way, and the message comes across just the same.

Sure, Javier might not be good with words, but he doesn’t need them to let her in. He just needs to lower his guard and not hide from her or any of his past grievances.

He’s never met anyone who makes him self-reflect as much as she does.

As the final notes fade into the quiet, the sounds of the weather seamlessly take their place. Paloma’s fingers linger on the keys as she turns to look at him, “What’d ya think?”

Javier reaches out, stroking her cheek affectionately. “Increíble, cariño. Can’t imagine how hard it was for you to go through that.” he replies, words laden with sincerity.

A small yet genuine smile paints itself on her face and she shrugs lightly, “It was tough, but I’m a tough girl. Got through it eventually…” she trails off, attention flickering to the keys before meeting his brown eyes again, “And I know I’m bein’ kinda anal about you tellin’ my daddy ‘n stuff but there’s reasonin’ behind it. I wanted you to know that reason. You make me feel all these...things. Things I’ve felt before. Things I’ve lost. I don’t want that to happen again.”

“And it won’t.” He reassures her, tone hushed as to not wake her father.

The lights flicker suddenly and they both look towards the lamp before he’s getting her to look at him again.

“Paloma, those things you feel. I feel them too and I don’t want to fuck ‘em up either. Te quiero a ti (I want you), mi corazón, te necesito (I need you). Like fuckin’ air. It’s ridiculous how spun you’ve got me.”

Paloma’s heart swells at his words, the rawness of them, and she doesn’t give a fuck if her dad was to walk in in this very moment; she lurches forward to kiss him, holding his jaw tenderly.

The power finally gives out, accompanied with a deafening crash of lightning, plunging the room into darkness. The storm outside intensifies, its ferocity underscored by the unrelenting roar of thunder.

They pull back abruptly, but he’s still close enough to brush his nose against the soft skin of her cheek. He needs her so bad.

Paloma’s eyes flutter close at the feel of his warm breath caressing her, a polarizing energy drawing them together and she almost crawls onto his lap.

She hears her father’s voice calling for her and she wishes she hadn’t. Wishes he wasn’t around at all so she could take Javier right here on the fucking piano.

She moves off the bench, flustered completely, shouting down the hall, “We’re gettin’ the lanterns outta the closet to set ‘em up.”

Javier clears his throat, following her down the shadowy hallway until they’re at the closet, watching her rummage through it.

The dim light from the lightning intermittently illuminates her figure, making her movements more sensual than they should be.

When his vision becomes clouded by lust, it’s hard for him to focus on anything that isn’t his subject of affection. That currently being her.

His gaze lingers on her bent over figure, her leggings hugging her curves just right, shirt riding up to expose a slither of skin at her lower back. “No candles?”

“Not safe in a storm like this,” she replies, pulling out a taped up cardboard box. “Don’t want the house goin’ up in flames if the gas lines get hit.”

Turning to look over her shoulder, she smirks when she sees that he’s distracted. “Hey handsome, my eyes are up here.”

“And while your eyes are definitely worth admiring, I’m more intrigued by this ass you got, baby.” He can’t help but deliver a slight spank.

A flush creeps up her cheeks and she gasps his name softly, “Just go put these out by the kitchen and living room, please.”

“Si, jefa.” His grin widens, clearly enjoying her reaction, as he takes the box and heads toward the main rooms, leaving her to handle upstairs.

When Paloma rejoins them in the kitchen, she finds Javier and her father standing by the window, their faces illuminated by the flickering light of the lanterns. They peer out into the storm, watching the rain lash against the windowpane.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had one of these,” she comments.

Romeo, with a small scowl, shakes his head. “Leave it to everyone in town to think this is the work of the devil.”

She snorts at the remark, recognizing the truth in it. A weather anomaly in their small town is enough to stir up wild tales and superstitions. That atop of all the rising tensions and well…

“Yeah, one odd storm, and it’s suddenly the apocalypse,” Javier quips.

She moves to set the table. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to have dinner. In case the end times really are amongst us.”

They sit around the table, their conversation punctuated by the occasional rumble of thunder. As they finish their meal and clean up, her father clears his throat and stretches, glancing out at the downpour with a tired sigh. “I’m turnin’ in for the night,” he announces. 

Paloma and Javier exchange glances, her drying off plates next to her dad and him leaning against the kitchen island, trying not to show how eager they are to be left alone.

“Me too. Probably gonna read a bit before bed. Javier, we’ve set up my old playroom for you to stay in.” His lips twitch at the use of his full first name, and he looks at them both, rubbing his lips together.

“I appreciate you letting me bunker down here.”

“Not a problem. Wouldn’t be surprised if we saw your tin can blowin’ across the yard.” Romeo jokes, drying his hands off then leaning over to pinch at his daughter’s nose affectionately, like he always does. She scrunches her face up in response.

“Night y’all. Javier help yourself to anything.”

He bites back a smirk, the first response to cross his mind being like your daughter? Like the smug bastard that he is. Instead, he gives him a curt nod. “Thank you, goodnight.”

“Night daddy.”

There’s a charged silence as Romeo saunters down the hall, and it’s not until they hear his bedroom door click close that he rounds the counter and walks up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.

“Help myself to anything I want. Hm…” he whispers hotly into her ear, one hand moving up to grope her breast, the other toying with the band of her leggings.

She exhales shakily, letting her head fall back against his shoulder and closing her eyes as she enjoys his touch on her body, the way she can feel his erection poking against her ass. “What happened to you not gettin’ hooked?”

He sees the small smirk on her face and he squeezes his grip on her tit, nibbling along her neck. She shudders.

“Shut up.”

Javier spins her around, caging her between him and the counter, dark eyes boring into hers. He goes in for a proper kiss but she stops him, pointer finger pressing against his pursed lips.

He growls her name out and it’s almost drowned out by the wave of thunder that rolls by.

“Meet me in my room in an hour.” She whispers, dropping her hand and spreading her palm against the center of his chest, pushing him back so she’s able to slip away from him.

“Always a tease,” he grumbles, adjusting himself in his sweatpants.

“Promise I’ll make it worth your while.” Paloma walks backwards, blowing him a kiss before disappearing upstairs.

Javier stands on the other side of her door, exactly an hour later as instructed. He rasps his knuckles softly against the wood, and the door opens immediately.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

They share a moment of silence, exchanging a lustful stare before she opens the door wider for him to come in.

“This is a bad idea, bebita. Your dad is just downstairs.” Though the statement dies on his tongue as his eyes rake over her body.

She’s wearing his red checkered flannel, the one he had let her wear the night of the Fourth of July. She hasn’t got anything on under it aside from the only thong she owns, since she isn’t privy to them.

Usually, she would just forgo underwear altogether instead of wearing the uncomfortable scrap of fabric.

But it’s serving its purpose right now.

The flannel doesn’t smell like him anymore since she’d washed it, but she still liked how soft it felt against her skin.

Plus, she knew he wouldn’t be able to resist once he saw her in it.

“Then we’ll have to be quiet.” Her voice drops to a whisper, walking him back until he’s sat at the edge of her bed, Paloma standing between his spread legs and her hands cupping his face.

He swallows hard, his large hands automatically finding her hips, sliding under the flannel to feel the warmth of her skin. “You look incredible.”

Paloma leans in, her lips ghosting over his. “I wore it just for you.”

Javier’s heart races as he feels the heat emanating from her body. He gently tugs her closer, exploring the curve of her waist, the soft swell of her hips, then grabbing her ass. “You’re killing me, princesa.”

She loves hearing that coming from him.

“You gonna be able to stay quiet? Last time we had to be, I had to shut you up myself.” His touch shifts to the back of her thighs, fingers caressing the soft skin there, eyes focused on her and how she reacts to him.

Two lanterns bathe her room in warm light, casting a glow that aids her in her quest to seduce him.

“I think I can manage this time.” She ducks her head to kiss him, not hungrily or passionately, but slowly, savoring the taste of mint that lingers on his tongue.

His lips travel from her mouth to her jawline, and down the sensitive skin of her neck.

“Javi?”

“¿Si, muñeca?”

“I need your help with something.”

“What’s that, baby?”

“Need you to talk me through sucking your dick.”

He pulls back abruptly, blinking rapidly as he processes her words. “What?”

“Don’t make me repeat it,” she juts her lower lip out, “I’ve… well I’ve never done it before and I really, really really want to do it with you.” She sounds desperate but she doesn’t care.

Paloma’s been fantasizing about it for a while now, the desire to do it only growing the more intimate they got. Her mind has been filled with images of him, his reactions, and the way he might look at her with that smoldering gaze of his.

The thought of pleasing him, of having his taste and scent overwhelm her, has her buzzing with a heady mix of excitement and nervousness.

“I’m having a hard time believing that. You’ve got perfect fuckin’ lips,” soft, plump, just begging to have a cock between them.

She giggles, feeling his fingers toying with the thin strap of her thong. “Thank you. I’d like to put ‘em to use if you don’t mind.”

He blows out a breath, trying to keep his composure. “How inexperienced are we talking here?” Javier’s cock is already twitching, knowing that no one has breached this part of her and that he’s the one who gets to do it is making him delirious.

“I know what it is. Given a hand job before but never had one down my throat,” she admits, her cheeks flushed.

He grunts at her wording. “I’ve seen a few dirty flicks where the girl’s done it. I think m’capable, but I wanna know what you like. How you want me to take it.”

“You can’t say things like that and expect me to keep my shit together.”

Another giggle escapes her lips as she slowly moves to her knees, the plush rug cushioning her descent. Her dainty hands come to rest on his muscular thighs, fingers gently kneading the fabric of his gray sweatpants.

He looks irresistibly sexy in his casual attire, a simple t-shirt and sweatpants that do nothing to hide the raw masculinity that has her already dripping wet, eagerly awaiting his instructions.

The look she gives him—those eyes, brimming with lust—makes him wish he had a video camera to capture this moment.

He wants to immortalize the way her lips part slightly, how her breath quickens, the way her hands tremble with enthusiasm.

He wants to be able to replay it over and over again, to remember how she looks up at him from beneath her lashes, her gaze filled with an intensity that sends a jolt of arousal straight to his cock.

“Unbutton the shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits of yours, sweetheart.” 

Her thighs clench, fingers flying to the buttons of the flannel, deftly popping them open to reveal her chest, a shiver skipping over her exposed skin and perking her nipples.

Javier’s eyes darken with hunger as he licks his lips slowly, savoring the sight before him.

He brings his hand up, cupping her left breast, his thumb brushing over her skin in teasing strokes. His calloused touch sends a ripple of pleasure through her, responding with ragged breaths.

Just as she starts to lean into his hand, he pulls away, leaving her yearning for more.

“Now touch me, princesa. Feel how hard you got me.”

This is how she dies, she thinks, with Javier Peña talking her through her first blowjob. Their little erotic phone call had been one experience, and now he is bestowing another one upon her. In the same week.

Maybe she’s already dead.

Her palm glides up and down his length, tracing the hardening outline over the soft fabric of his sweatpants. The sight of her full tits and pebbled nipples enough to get him fully hard.

Paloma leans in, gently lifting the hem of his tee out of the way. She places a delicate kiss just above his waistband, her lips brushing against the warm skin of his lower abdomen and her nose scrunching as the dark trail of hair tickles her.

Her hand continues its rhythmic motion, eliciting a slow, deep exhale from him— unspoken encouragement to keep going.

“So big,” she murmurs, “don’t know how I’m goin’ to fit it all in my mouth.” Her tongue darts out, teasingly licking around his belly button, causing his stomach to tighten in anticipation.

“Don’t worry, muñeca,” he coos, “We’ll make it fit.”

With starry eyes, she hooks her fingers into the waistband of his bottoms, slowly dragging them down. He lifts his hips to help her, the fabric sliding off and pooling around his ankles.

His cock springs free, resting heavily against his pelvis.

Her eyes widen, mouth watering.

She’s felt his impressive size, but seeing it so closely in the flesh sends thudding pressure to her clit, blood rushing with a desperate need to please him.

He’s thick and perfectly sized with an enticing curve that has her tongue moving involuntarily in her mouth. The skin is a shade lighter than the rest of him, currently flushed a deep, heated red, the smooth head throbbing and glistening with precum dripping from the slit.

“Damn, Javi,” she purrs, a content hum vibrating through her chest. “Every part of you is handsome.” It makes her heart race, and she can feel heat licking at her labia, eager to show him just how much she aches for him.

He exhales through his nose, stroking her hair and gently urging her forward. “Give it a kiss, bebita.”

“Where?”

“Donde tú quieras.”

She sucks her teeth, contemplating how she wants to do this. The soft lighting of the room and the flashes of silver from the lightning outside accentuate every ridge and curve of his cock—making it look so yummy.

Javi can feel her warm breath fanning over him, then the blissful wetness of her plump lips as she presses them against the blazing skin of his base. Her tongue follows, tracing the path of a thick vein with deliberate slowness.

He curses under his breath, biting down on his tongue to stifle any involuntary noises, but fuck, it feels good.

Her tongue traces the protruding vein all the way to the top, circling around the head, mimicking what she’s seen in the pornos. More precum leaks from his slit, and she laps at it thirstily, welcoming the peculiar flavor. The salty tang mingles with the taste of his skin, driving her fucking crazy.

“It doesn’t look like I have to teach you much, chiquita, you’re doing an amazing fuckin’ job so far.” Javier praises, continuing to stroke her hair with a satisfied, wolfish grin playing at his lips.

“Really?” She seeks his approval like a drowning woman seeking air.

“Of course. Always so good for me.” His dark eyes gleam with ardor, “Now get it wet, baby, so it can slip in your mouth easily.”

Obedient as ever and fueled by his praise, her tongue moves with sinful precision, eyes fluttering close as she focuses on licking every inch, using her lips to press open mouthed kisses all over.

More saliva gathers in her mouth, and she deliberately lets a thick, glistening strand fall from her lips, dribbling over the sensitive tip and trailing slowly down the full length of him.

Paloma’s hand comes up, fingers wrapping around his dick with a teasing grip. Her movements are slow, pumping him gently.

“Your nails look so sexy wrapped around my cock like this baby holy fuck,” Javier can’t help but compliment as she squeezes him, clenching his jaw. “That’s right, así mero princesa, shit.” He grunts, the hand that had been tenderly stroking her hair now tangles into her long, silken strands, fingers gripping and gently tugging, a primal response to her actions.

He mentioned a long time ago how much he loved it when a woman had a fresh manicure, and Paloma, ever wanting to get his attention, has not missed a single appointment with her manicurist since.

“Got ‘em done just for you,” she coos, winking up at him and leaning forward to purse her lips, slapping his fat head against them.

“Gettin’ yourself all done up for me? Mi muñequita so eager to please. Go ahead and put me in your mouth. Wanna see those pretty lips around my cock.”

She can feel her slick dampening her panties, wanting nothing more than to make him feel good. Show up any other woman he’s ever taken to bed.

Holding him steady at the base, she parts her lips and slowly envelops his cock in her hot mouth.

The heavy, pulsing weight of him pressing down on her tongue amplifies her craving for more. His slick, warm flesh, generously coated in her spit, has him sliding effortlessly into her mouth.

Javier brings his fist up to bite into it, letting out a choked groan.

The weather continues its tyranny outdoors and he’s fucking grateful that it’s loud enough to cover the sounds of pleasure she’s pulling from him. “Take it slow, baby, open your jaw a little more.”

She listens, lowering her chin and taking him deeper into her mouth. The blunt tip grazes the back of her throat, causing her to gag and she pulls back, struggling to catch her breath.

The feeling is overwhelming, yet exhilarating.

“¿Todo bien, nena?” he asks in a low, gravelly murmur, eyelids heavy as he watches her.

The fingers previously tangled in her hair now brush away the few stray strands that have fallen forward behind her ear.

She responds with a breathy hum of affirmation, determined to push him further down her throat. But her eagerness causes her to overestimate her capacity, resulting in a sputtering mess as she chokes and coughs, droplets of her saliva splattering over him.

“Baby, it’s okay,” he soothes, his thumb gently swiping at the spit on her lower lip. “Take it easy. S’not a race.” The tender gesture only heightens her arousal.

“I jus’ wanna make you feel good, Javi,” she replies, voice hoarse from the strain of her attempt at deep throating.

“Trust me, you’re doing just fine. Here, let me help.” His hand moves to the nape of her neck, carefully guiding her closer. 

He slowly breaches her mouth with his cock again, slipping in and out in a gentle rhythm. He helps her find a steady pace, his care and control transforming the act into more of an intimate experience.

“Atta girl, just like that. Tan hermosa,” he murmurs, admiring the view of her flushed face. “Think you can handle it all on your own now?”

She responds with a soft nod, the subtle move has her teeth just barely grazing his throbbing cock and it makes him shudder, jaw going slack.

More confident and her jaw worked open more, Paloma hollows her cheeks and blows him with keenness.

Her hands join in, one cradling his balls while the other wraps around his dick, stroking him in time with her mouth.

She looks up at him through her wet lashes, a loving glint twinkling in her eyes.

Javier curses under his breath, head lolling back and eyes fluttering close as her mouth and tongue work together to tread the fine fucking line of his orgasm. 

She takes him deeper, her swollen lips stretching around his cock while her jaw aches from accommodating him.

He gathers her hair into a loose ponytail with his fist, hips starting to move in tandem with her mouth. “Just like that, palomita.”

She’s got the hang of it now, able to take him all in, nose brushing against the tuft of hair at his base that’s damp with the saliva from her ministrations. 

The storm rages outside, but here, in this moment, all he can focus on is the exquisite torment of her mouth tightening the coil at the base of his spine.

Paloma stills, swallowing around his length and he praises her in a hushed whisper.

Javi gently strokes her cheek with his fingertips, his touch tender and reassuring, the contrast of his soft caress with the way she’s got him down her throat making her heart do jumping jacks.

She struggles to breathe but she doesn’t really give a fuck. The intense thrill of his reactions has her losing herself completely, thighs tensing together.

Her thong, now drenched with her own excited mess, sticks to her pussy; reminding her of how hot and bothered she is from just blowing him.

Between her tight throat, swirling tongue, and pretty gags, Javier has to pull her off of him before he spills his load down her throat.

Gasping for air, her eyes are glazed with tears of both pleasure and strain.

She looks up at him again with an expression so intoxicating—he nearly paints her face at the sight. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nada, cariño. I’d just like to fuck your pussy and not come down your throat tonight.” Some other time, for sure.

“I take it as I did a good job?”

“Best I’ve ever had.”

Paloma’s lips curl into a triumphant smirk, brown eyes glowing with satisfaction at his praise. She licks her lips, savoring the lingering taste of him as she leans in, pressing a final kiss on the sensitive tip of his cock with the electrifying touch of her lips.

Slowly, she rises from her knees, her movements fluid and deliberately sensual. She trails heated, open-mouthed kisses up his torso, each touch igniting a feverish path on his skin.

As she moves, she pulls his shirt up along with her, her soft breasts brushing against his firm stomach.

He reacts quickly, shedding the shirt and tossing it aside.

Their lips finally meet in a fervent kiss. It’s messy and passionate—they’re drunk off each other.

“How do you want me?” Paloma asks in a sultry whisper.

“Face down, ass up,” he grunts, pushing the flannel off her shoulders, eager to feel more of her bare skin beneath his touch.

She positions herself on the bed, her face nuzzling against the soft mountain of pillows, arms stretched out in front of her.

The recently fixed headboard offers a silent promise; no noise will give them away, and they won’t have to worry about getting caught.

That’s the last thing they need.

Whether they’re able to keep quiet themselves is an entirely different thing.

Javier, now fully nude, strokes his cock slowly, savoring the sight before him. Her plump ass is on full display, tantalizingly framed by the thin, barely-there panties.

He grunts with satisfaction, his gaze hungrily devouring the view of her pretty pussy, ready for him to take.

As he closes the distance between them, he kneads her ass cheeks firmly, the smoothness of her skin and the way she molds to his touch triggering a searing lust in him. 

Every fantasy he’d ever had about her in this position is now a vivid, thrilling reality. He’s intent on taking full advantage of this, to make her his in every sense. 

“Don’t know if I can trust you to stay quiet,” he murmurs as he slowly pulls down her underwear, a string of her slick sticking to it, making the sight so fucking erotic.

Paloma can’t help but sway her hips, enticing him further, as she lays bare on the mattress. “I will be, honey, I promise.” She turns her head to try and get a better look at him, cheek resting on the cushion.

“Can’t take that risk. Not tonight.” The bed dips when he positions himself behind her, and his broad frame bends over hers, chest to her back, wet cock brushing up against the skin of her ass. “Abre,” he commands lowly into her ear and she whimpers, parting her lips.

Her eyes go wide with surprise and her pulsating sex drools when he shoves her damp, ruined panties into her mouth. The fabric is cool against her tongue, tinged with her own tangy scent, and she can taste the remnants of her arousal.

Her moan is swallowed by the material, muffled and contained, amplifying the sensation of helpless pleasure that floods her senses.

“Calladita te ves más bonita (you look prettier with your mouth shut),” he taunts, placing a kiss to her cheek, bristling mustache dragging at her shoulder, until he straightens up and takes his cock into his hand again, slowly rubbing it along her slit and spreading their mess all over her cunt.

Paloma clenches around nothing in anticipation, arching her back and spreading her knees a little more to give him the perfect angle to rut into her. 

He sinks into her pussy slowly, growling expletives under his breath at how fucking amazing she feels positioned like this. Her tight, wet heat wrapping around him as he splits her open on his girth. “Sucking me in so well, amor, just like that fucking mouth of yours.”

Every sound of ecstasy gets lost on the now wet cloth as drool pools from her lips, brain absolutely melting once he’s balls deep inside of her, the weight of them pressed up against her clit.

All she can think and feel is him. He doesn’t give her a moment to adjust, pulling out until only his fat head is inside before roughly snapping his hips against hers.

The pace he sets is deliciously brutal, tears sting at her eyes as he presses up against that spot inside her that makes more juices drip out of her pussy and slather all over his dick.

Javier is completely entranced, watching as her cunt stretches open for him each time he rolls his hips, spitting his cock out, covered in her creamy arousal.

He spreads her cheeks to get the best view possible, biting his lip harshly and digging his fingertips into her skin.

The thunderstorm doesn’t let up, perfectly masking the filthy sounds of their fucking. “Feels fucking amazing baby, shit, can feel you clenching around me. Love being gagged, don’t you?” He can’t help himself, moving his hands so one hand tangles itself in her long hair, pulling at it so she’s on all fours now while the other grabs onto her hip.

Like a doll, she lets him move her however the hell he wants. Her arms tremble as she holds herself up, her scalp burning from his firm grip, each tug cascading waves of blissful electricity all over, starting at her toes.

Sex with Javier is unlike anything she’s ever experienced—raw, fiery, and profoundly exhilarating.

As he moves, her body dances to his rhythm, each motion perfectly synchronized with his. The soft flesh of her ass jiggles enticingly with each thrust, the twin dimples at the base of her spine deepening and winking at him.

Beads of sweat glisten on her golden skin, trailing seductively down the arch of her spine. He leans closer, his tongue darting out to lap at a single drop of perspiration, savoring the salty sweetness.

Paloma keens, bringing one hand back to dig her nails into his wrist as he fucks her like those stars in the dirty flicks.

Javier moves quickly, pinning both of her wrists at the base of her spine, her face falling flat on the pillows and further making it hard for her to breathe. She loves it, loves the way he’s manhandling her.

His balls tighten, as does the grip on her wrists.

He’s right at the edge of his precipice. But he can’t let go just yet—not without getting her off first. “So proud of you for taking this cock so well, muñeca. C’mon, baby, come all over it. I can feel how close you are. She’s grippin’ me so tight. Doesn’t want me to leave.”

Paloma squeezes her eyes shut, concentrating on the relentless way he fucks into her. Her walls convulse around his shaft, each stroke lighting up every nerve in her body.

He’s filling her to the brim, burying every bit of his soul and essence into her pussy.

It’s a raw and intimate exchange, a way he opens up and surrenders himself to her.

She sings, he fucks. He’s finding a healthier way to fuck his feelings into his woman without the devastating angst.

Unlike before, where passion was tangled with pain and regret, he now seeks a more fulfilling release.

Javier finds solace in their sex.

A stark white flash of lightning illuminates the room, casting fleeting shadows over their intertwined bodies, followed by the familiar, rolling rumble of thunder. The storm outside mirrors the tempestuous passion in her bedroom.

Thank-fucking-God her daddy was a heavy sleeper.

He yanks her up, pressing his chest flush against her back and trapping her wrists between them, the heat of their bodies melding them together.

One arm snakes around to grab her bouncing tit, his fingers kneading the soft flesh, while his other slips down to her clit, alternating between softly pinching and rubbing circles against the sticky, sensitive flesh.

“When I pull the panties out your mouth, I want you to moan my name. You understand?” he whispers hotly into her ear. At first, she’s too lost in the pleasure he’s bringing her to fully grasp his words, mind clouded with nothing but Javier Peña.

He delivers a particularly harsh thrust, making her gasp and snapping her eyes open––bringing her back to the present.

Repeating himself in a throaty and commanding voice, she nods faintly, understanding now, her body quivering.

After a few more intensely euphoric moments, another strike splits the sky. Javier hastily removes the gag from her mouth, his fingers brushing her lips. “Give it to me, Paloma,” He grits through his teeth.

And she does. The crack of the lightning and the storm’s thunder roar loudly, shaking the house, her primal cry of bliss drowned out by the heavy noise.

“Javi!” her jaw falls open, walls contracting tightly around his dick, milking him as her climax crashes into her.

The sensation is so much, she nearly blacks out, her vision swimming in a haze of pleasure. Paloma’s body tenses, and that’s all it takes for him to follow suit.

Javier tightens his grip on her, his fingers pulling at her nipple as his own orgasm hits.

His cock twitches, releasing his hot seed deep inside her, filling her up completely. He grunts against her neck, his breath ragged, teeth finding and sinking into her damp skin.

He kisses her sloppily, leaving a trail of wetness from his tongue as he marks her, claiming her in their shared moment of fucking paradise.

They stay like that for a few moments, bodies entwined, hearts pounding in sync, as they come down from their respective highs.

“M’never, ever, ever gonna get tired of that,” she pants out with a satisfied grin, tilting her head to pepper kisses along the side of his head as his lips continue to press against her neck.

“You and me both, princesa.” Their lips meet in a lazy kiss, both of them smiling into it. His hold on her loosens, now cradling her affectionately, and she melts into his embrace.

“Lay with me, Javi, please?” she whispers, running the tip of her nose along his cheek, giggling softly as his mustache tickles her skin.

He nods, momentarily forgetting where they were and the implications of what would unravel if the man downstairs decided to come up and check on them. “Okay.”

They untangle and she isn’t bothered by the way their mixed release seeps out of her, smearing all over her folds. She’ll shower it off in the morning.

They move beneath the sheets of her bed, settling against her pillows and the many stuffed animals she owns. “Damn, how many of these shits do you have?” Javier asks, holding a tattered bunny in his hand that she takes from him and tenderly caresses.

“Hey, don’t be rude. Mr. Bubbles was my very first best friend and a very important member of the family.”

Javier snorts, and she shoots him a playful glare, carefully placing her beloved plush on her bedside table. He shuffles as she leans against the headboard, his head resting on her stomach while her fingers play in his hair.

The rhythmic pattering of the rain is comforting now, the warm lights in her bedroom embracing this moment with a soft glow.

It’s quiet for a few moments, his lips placing tender kisses all over her soft skin. When he reaches the scar on her hip, he can’t help but bring his curious fingers up to gently trace it, the question hanging on the tip of his tongue.

“How’d you get this?”

Paloma takes a deep breath, her fingers still entertaining themselves in his curls. “I got it when I was thirteen,” she begins softly, “I used to love climbin’ this big tree we had in our backyard. I’d always go as high as I could, ‘n once I reached the top, I swore I could see the whole world from up there. It was beautiful, you know? The view, the feelin’ of being so free and above everythin’.”

She pauses, a small smile tugging at her lips as she remembers the exhilaration of those childhood climbs. “But one day, I saw somethin’ out in the distance—a shadowed figure. It made me feel… uneasy. I’d dreamt of somethin’ like it before, so seein’ it in person… it instilled this fear into me. Felt like a bad omen.”

Paloma shivers slightly at the recollection, and Javier’s hold tightens around her in silent support. “Somehow, I lost my footin’. Slipped off the branch and tumbled down the tree. The fall was chaotic as hell. One of the sharp branches nicked me and cut up my side. It was real deep, felt like I was gonna die.”

It was a miracle she didn’t break a bone or snap her neck. “I smacked the ground hard, it knocked the wind right outta me. I remember jus’ layin’ there, unable to breathe, and seein’ the blood. It was everywhere. The pain was so intense, and it took almost ten minutes of pure agony ‘fore I could use my lungs again. I started screamin’ like a banshee and my parents rushed out, absolutely frantic.”

The tip of his nose grazes the mark, his lips following suit, showering it with tender kisses. Her skin prickles with goosebumps as her fingertips gently scratch at his scalp.

“They rushed me into town to see Dr. Hughes. She stitched me up and told me I was lucky it wasn’t worse. Daddy and a few of his lumberjack buddies cut the tree down the next day. I was so sad.”

“Bet you didn’t climb more trees after that.” He smirks up at her and she snorts softly.

“I did, I was jus’ more careful.”

Javier’s affections trail upward from her stomach to her sternum, then to her neck, and she sighs happily.

The feel of his body between her legs, flaccid cock pressed up against her sore pussy, cradled in her arms, is a high she’s going to spend the rest of her life chasing.

They kiss and kiss until her lips are blue and his lungs beg for oxygen, exchanging tender touches.

His hand finds its familiar place around her neck but doesn’t apply any real pressure, thumb gently brushing against the column of her throat.

She revels in the feel of him.

Her dainty hands roam over his muscular back, broad shoulders, and toned triceps, exploring every inch they can reach. Each touch feels like a declaration of their mutual addiction.

The way they fit together, both physically and emotionally, is intoxicating.

She can feel his love in every movement, every kiss, and every gentle brush of his thumb.

This is their sanctuary, a moment where they can express their deepest emotions without fear.

“I could stay here all night.”

“Why limit yourself to all night? Why not forever?”

He groans out in satisfaction, nipping at her chin, needing his lips on some part of her at all times.

“As much as I’d love to pretend like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. I have to go back across the hall.”

“You don’t have to do anythin’. Said it was a bad idea to mess ‘round while my daddy’s downstairs but that didn’t stop you from fuckin’ me.”

She can’t even take the expression he flashes her seriously, not with his hair sticking up in odd places and that fucked out glaze over his brown eyes.

“Just leave early in the morning. Or at least wait until I fall asleep.” And out of spite, she’s tempted to stay up all night just to keep him in her bed.

“Fine. Until you fall asleep.” He kisses her on the lips, moving from between her legs until he’s settled behind her, scooping her into his arms. Her head rests on his chest, one leg hitched over his, and her palm sprawled against his stomach.

He trails his fingers up and down the length of her spine, the other hand stroking the thigh draped over his hip. He nuzzles his nose against the crown of her hair and inhales deeply.

Her scent is not only an aphrodisiac but also incredibly calming.

She feels the accelerated pounding of his heart and before she can ask what’s wrong, his tongue loosens.

“I had this partner in Colombia. Steve Murphy. The most American American you’ll ever meet.” A small smile forms on his face as he reminisces, “Didn’t speak a lick of Spanish but still managed to help me get shit done. We went through the fuckin’ trenches together down there and I put him through the wringer so many goddamn times. I was such an asshole.”

“Was?” She can’t help but quip, kissing up on his chest. Javier slaps at her thigh.

She can tell he holds fondness for this man and she wonders why he’s just now bringing him up. Regardless, she enjoys hearing about his time in the DEA, despite how dark it can get.

He was a completely different man with baggage she can’t even begin to fathom.

“We found a baby girl in her house one day. Her mother and the rest of her family had been shot up by some of Escobar’s men. They were about to kill her when we showed up.”

The conversation takes a turn, and Paloma lifts her head to meet his gaze, but he looks relatively calm as he goes on with the story.

“We chased those bastards all over the neighborhood. Right as I got the upper hand on one, a kid no older than ten cornered me with a fucking pistol.” Her eyes widen, and she brings her fingers up to touch his cheek.

“‘Course I wasn’t going to shoot a fucking kid. They both ran off. Murphy and his wife, Connie, ended up adopting the girl. Olivia, they named her.”

“Olivia’s a beautiful name.”

“She’s precious.”

The context of his past has jaded such a good man, molding him into a cynic over the years. No wonder he struggles to be vulnerable.

His eyes, though calm, reveal a depth of pain and reflection, the memories of those days etched into his soul.

“I think they’d like you.” He turns his head to kiss her palm, nuzzling against it as she cradles his face.

“Well maybe I’ll get to meet ‘em one day. Your pops, too.”

“Oh I know he’d love you. Just knowing how you tend to the house and yard is gonna have him wanting to steal you from me.” Javier playfully nips at her fingertips, those golden flecks she loves to see in his eyes returning.

“If he’s anything like you, then you’re in trouble, cowboy.” 

She’s tickled by the hairs of his mustache and accidentally lets a loud laugh slip, causing him to grip her jaw gently as he shushes her. “Shhh, baby…” His thumb is at her bottom lip, “Gonna get us caught.”

“Tell that to your ‘stache, sir. S’always ticklin’ me.” Paloma bites down on his thumb playfully and he lean in to kiss her for the millionth time.

They indulge in more pillow talk until eventually she’s just humming in response, half asleep, her body going limp against his and her breath leveling out.

Exhaustion tugs at him, the weather lulling him into an almost serene state. Watching her sleep in his arms, her already soft features look even more angelic.

Her long lashes rest delicately against her cheeks, and the rise and fall of her chest is hypnotic, reminding him that she’s real and here for him.

Javier doesn’t want to leave even though he knows he must. He doesn’t want to rob himself of this moment—of how, for the first time in a long time, he’s able to cradle something in his hands and not break it.

Her presence is a soothing balm to the wounds of his past, and he wants to savor every second of this newfound peace.

But as he holds her, the rhythmic patter of rain against the window and the rumble of thunder weave a lullaby that’s impossible to resist. His resolve falters and his eyelids grow heavy.

He takes in the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body pressed against his, and the feeling of absolute contentment that she brings.

It’s a sensation he convinced himself he wasn’t worthy of experiencing, so having it now fills him with a profound sense of gratitude.

Despite his best efforts to stay awake and to tell himself to get up, he eventually succumbs to the exhaustion, his head resting gently on hers. His arms tighten around her protectively, even in sleep, as if to ensure she remains safe and close.

The storm rages on outside, never letting up despite the tranquil note in which their night ends.

[honeycreammilkshake]

with jjk ending so soon i've gotten even crazier about sukuita lately. i'm desperately hoping/praying that the ending is focused solely on them, since it seems to me all the other characters have gone through their arcs and their stories are pretty much told. i really want yuuji to be the only one who can stop sukuna, either by dying alongside him or somehow merging together with him by becoming his vessel again.

either way, i keep getting reminded of the ending of devilman crybaby.... what if there's a similar ending ahead for sukuna? maybe in his final moments he realizes everything yuuji was trying to teach him, that he really starts feeling love for the first time, right before either he or yuuji dies. just like how in crybaby, ryo/satan is trapped in an eternal cycle of indifference until he meets akira, and only realizes his love for akira at the very end when everything has been completely destroyed.

ryo was so set on destroying humanity and maintaining his own philosophy, just like sukuna is. they're both self-absorbed and completely convinced they're right in everything, but what if the very souls they mocked for being so emotional and too soft (akuna and yuuji) are the very ones who change them, and show them how wrong they were?

sukuna and ryo are both completely heartless and tragic in their own way, and i think that's why people like yuuji and akira eventually got to them... they were the only people who really tried to reach out and understand them, akira by being ryo's friend and yuuji for trying to teach sukuna love.

imo it can only be yuuji who ends this: he and sukuna have been bound together since the very beginning, and only sukuna has gotten to get so close to yuuji - in many ways, not just by sharing his body. yuuji hasn't been so upfront about his childhood to anyone else but sukuna, and i think that's definitely going to sit with the king of curses, no matter what he tries to deny.

even if sukuna can only learn love by having it all taken completely away from him (like ryo) there is still that potential there in him to realize his mistakes and change his hard-set ideas of the world. if a villain like kenjaku/geto can get an ending like gege gave him, then surely sukuna having his own character development for the better isn't so unlikely either.

[progamer27]

EPIC: The Musical - Character Growth

I like it when characters aren't one-dimensional, especially main characters.

Sure, it's fine and fun to have characters who are solely evil or solely good from time to time.

But I vastly prefer characters that go thru some sort of development - that takes its time -, and then come out changed by the experience.

Enter: Odysseus and Athena (and also Eurylychous)

I think it's pretty safe to say that, at least at the start of the musical, a lot of people didn't like Athena and Eurylychous too much - and were quick to label them as, at the very least, "villain-adjecent".

But now that we have had 6 out of 8 Sagas released, we can understand them better. And same for Odysseus.

Eurylychous: In the Odyssey, he is a minor character whose only role is to be a plot device (killing and eating Helios's cattle). In EPIC, Eurylychous is shown as someone more focused on the crew than anything else. Brash and Hot-headed, he is the opposite of Odysseus.

So, why is he interesting? Because we SEE (or HEAR) how he grows from just; a soldier whose first instinct is to murder (Lotus Eaters) or flee (After blinding Polypheamus), to a desperate man who wants to get back home as fast as possible - even if it means leaving his comrades behind (Circe), to a man who needs to confess his guilt (Scylla, as a follow up to Keep Your Friends Close and Puppeteer), to someone who's desperate and has given up entirely (Mutiny and Thunder Bringer).

In conclusion: Eury isn't a villain, but Just a Man. He made mistakes and was abrasive, but so would many people in his place.

ATHENA: In Greek Mythology, Athena is one of the most Hubris-Filled (Prideful) Goddesses out there. In EPIC, she is much of the same... at the Start.

Because Remember, prior to the Wisdom Saga, we only really saw/heard Athena 3 times. And in those 3 times, we get presented with who she is at the moment; A Goddess who views Odysseus as a "project/creation" (Warrior of the Mind and Remember Them), and as the less rose-tinted Goddess who lost her friend because of the circumstances (My Goodbye).

Now, at this point in time, most people would simply label Athena as a "typical greek goddess" - that is to say, a deity who doesn't really view humans as equal to her, and who lacks Humanity.

....until she meets Telemachus.

Then, the characterization... matures; she becomes less closed-off (We'll Be Fine), admits that she was pushing too hard (Little Wolf), realizes that what she did to Ody was HORRIBLE - and, if I may interject, she will probably be a bit shocked/traumatized at seeing Ody trying to kill himself (Love in Paradise), and finally as someone who realized they STILL CARE for their friend, and that tried to do everything to save them (God Games)

In Short: Athena went from being an unlikable cold goddess - one who refused to comprehend human emotions -, to being much more "human".

(And please, if you are a fanfic writer, try to write a story where Athena just... realizes how shitty her life was, and how badly she treated others, and let her have an home with the Itachan Family. She needs her friends, and she probably needs to express her emotions in an healtier way)

ODYSSEUS:....

....

....

What is there to say? The musical is ABOUT HIM, and about how the line between man and monster (good and evil) is incredibly thin... but also about how you CAN come back from the brink, how you can "Become Yourself" again.

In the Odyssey - even if the story is a banger -, I didn't get the impression that Odysseus changed too much. Sure, he may have some trauma and suicidial thoughts, but he didn't do a 180°, then another one, and finally got a better understanding of life. He was still just... Odysseus, the King of Itacha and Father of Telemachus. Odysseus, the Silver-Tounged Liar. Odysseus the sacker of cities.

In Epic....

...Well, I think you know where I'm going with this..

In Conclusion: The EPIC versions of the characters feel like Actual Characters - almost actual humans - who make mistakes and aren't wholly "pure villainy" or "goodie two-shoes".

Sure, we have example of both of these things (Goodie = Polites, Penelope, Astynax; Villains = Poseidon, Polyphemus, Scylla, Zeus, The Suitors), as well as some morally-grey ones (Dark Grey/Leaning toward Evil = Calypso; Light Gray/Leaning towards Good= Circee, Aeolus, Tiresias)

But i think that I've said enough.

[ofsmokenandgold]

Montse deserved better...

Yes, I'm a little obsessed about this, but rewatching parts of Land of Women yesterday it really struck home how Montse went from being cheerful, and sassy and fun early in the series to sad and diffident and even slightly fearful by the end. And she didn't deserve that. She did nothing wrong except not be Gala.

I do think this is an inherent problem with rom/com comedy/dramas where you have a "designated couple" from the beginning. Everyone else becomes an NPC, especially the "other woman". I think if they'd thought more about it (rather than focusing solely on Amat and Gala) the show runners should have allowed Montse own the pregnancy a little more forcefully; insist on telling him and not let him brush her off and lay out really clearly what's going to happen next. There's going to be a baby, it's his, he's going to have to help support it but she intends to go on with her life in La Muga with or without a relationship with him. It would have given her a bit more agency by the end of the series, instead of just making her look like she's been discarded.

I also don't really understand why Amat said nothing to her the entire time that it was clear that he was developing feelings for Gala. Was it because he didn't want to have "that" conversation; let's face it, none of us ever enjoy those conversations, but delaying them is just cowardice. Or was it because he wasn't sure he actually had a chance with Gala and he didn't want to blow up his FWB deal with Montse so he could go back to having no-strings sex if it didn't work out. That's not the most attractive characteristic in a man.

Although I guess I'm glad that they gave us a nicely complex character, however unwittingly. I really don't think the show runners saw any problem in the way he behaved towards Montse because she was an NPC. She existed only to provide obstacles to getting Amat and Gala together.

Anyway, as I have said before, this is why fanfiction exists.

[biohazard-4ever]

I got into RE during the RE7/8/Remakes era and honestly that may be one of the reasons why I dislike aeon as a romantic ship. Their dynamic is interesting, but RE2make AND RE4make had me thinking that their relationship was so shaky, and Leon’s distrusting now (compared to OG). Well, that’s the impression I got. The kiss scene made me uncomfortable, but that’s an unpopular opinion, I think.

Maybe I could’ve tolerated them more if I got to know OG aeon first. I guess this is also the reason why there are more shipwars in recent time—since you got some aeons defending them by using the OG material, then others (like me) who don’t favor them as much because of the remake changes.

But then again, I have irl friends who despises aeon because of RE6 too…

I got into RE during the RE7/8/Remakes era and honestly that may be one of the reasons why I dislike aeon as a romantic ship.

Well, I have been in the fandom since God-knows-when, and I never shipped them. I just think the dynamic isn't well-developed, to be honest. They focused more on Ada as Leon's counterpart than on making her a genuine and independent character, so I never liked it. Many others feel the same way.

The kiss scene made me uncomfortable, but that’s an unpopular opinion, I think.

Nah. Even some A/eon shippers are not huge fans of the kiss in RE2Remake. It is not just you.

Maybe I could’ve tolerated them more if I got to know OG aeon first. I guess this is also the reason why there are more shipwars in recent time

Actually, the ship wars have become more intense because plenty of 'YouTube players' (i.e., people who don’t play the games but just watch gameplays) are now a big part of the shipping community. You know, those who follow the franchise solely because of a ship or character, giving the impression of an 'increase in fans' when they’re really just 'YouTube game watchers.' That, combined with the fact that Cleon got a bit more 'love' from Capcom—dropping pieces and bits for fans to nibble on—has created two polar opposites in the fandom.

But then again, I have irl friends who despises aeon because of RE6 too…

Leon faced a lot of hate during his RE6 era, to be honest. That’s when his haters really started to show up, with people complaining and calling him a 'simp,' and some even labeling him an 'incel,' yada yada. RE2 Remake helped people warm up to him a bit, and RE4 Remake made his popularity skyrocket. Fans especially highlight, 'He’s not a simp anymore.'

As for me, my main issues with RE6 are the quick-time events, the gameplay, and the graphics. In both RE6 and Revelations 2, the character models look odd. Their mouths give them this weird 'frog face'—I don’t know how else to explain it. I absolutely hate it.

and also to add: it’s quite interesting that they also changed Leon and Claire’s interactions to have a little more… affection towards each other?

Cleon isn’t exactly unheard of in the community. In the OG timeline, they have more of a sibling-like dynamic—though not entirely. For instance, in Degeneration, Claire kind of flirts with Leon, but not in a serious way. Also, in the novels written by S.D. Perry—while not considered canon by the fandom—she was a hired writer, paid by Capcom, and even received early character designs and unreleased information to use in her work.

In the S.D. Perry novels, you could argue that Cleon is kind of canon. They’re often described as being close to 'lovers,' and there’s even a moment where Chris mentally notes that he should ask Leon how far things have gone with his sister and what’s going on between them.

So, Cleon isn’t unheard of. I think it’s only natural that they would play with this dynamic more in the Remake Era.

I haven’t played the OG, but from what I’ve seen/heard, it seemed that Claire wasn’t interested in Leon at all, but they did develop a strong bond. (Please correct me if I’m wrong)

I’m a Cleon shipper, so take my 'opinion' with a grain of salt. That said, I do believe they share a strong bond. They’re 'friends-in-arms,' and in Leon’s character file from Death Island (unfortunately, the site was taken down, but I used the translation to read the info), Claire is described by Leon as 'his partner in this.' By 'in this,' I interpret it as Claire being Leon’s go-to choice if he absolutely had to pick someone to survive with him in an apocalyptic crisis.

Additionally, Claire is the one who introduces Leon and Chris to each other—this is mentioned in the RE6 files. It happened during a Terra Save conference or something along those lines. And we all know that Terra Save is an anti-governmental NGO. So, call it whatever you want, but it’s not entirely untrue to say Leon was, like, her plus-one.

But in the remake, when I first got to the fence scene, I was like “ARE YOU GUYS SERIOUSLY LOWKEY AWKWARD FLIRTING HERE?!” I thought it was ridiculous at first, but now I found it pretty cute lol…

To be honest, same. But I love how that scene always brings a smile to people’s faces when they get to it. It’s a game that starts off so tense, and those two breaking the tension a bit easily becomes the 'highlight' moment for most players. My friends (two of them) absolutely refuse to skip that cutscene, no matter how many times they’ve seen it during their runs. They just love it.

They also got Sherry to say “Are you guys like boyfriend and girlfriend?” “You guys can adopt me!” when it wasn’t in the OG too. It was a line that’s not really needed right—like the writers could not include it and nothing would change—but they did. That made me curious about the direction the remakes were heading with Claire-Sherry-Leon tbh. But knowing Crapcom, it’s probably not gonna lead to nowhere now…

Yeah. Don't overthink it. In my opinion, that final interaction was a nod to the fandom as a whole, because even before the remakes, there were plenty of people actually HCing exactly that -, Sherry working as Cleon's "adopted child", and more often than not was Claire described as the "motherly figure" for Sherry while leaving it to us to interpret about her and Leon's relationship (Sherry and Leon's). Leaving it in the open.

Capcom will never compromise themselves with something that serious: "Oh, Sherry sees Leon and Claire as their parents" That... Would make people jump into conclusions that should NOT be taken.

So, in my opinion, as a CLEON lover/shipper, I think Capcom is just teasing and nodding at us—they’re not 'cooking something.' As Nick Apostolides(N.A) said in an interview about the ending of Infinite Darkness:

N.A: "I think that was a very intentional move by capcom because, of course, they left it open, it was short and I think they left a lot of fans wanting more. A lot of people who are disappointed about what happened with Leon and Claire - Im sure they wanna see some kind of resolution to that, y'know? You gotta leave'em hanging! That's why they call it a cliffhanger isn't it not?"

(AND NICK'S OPINION ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP AT THIS STATE:)

N.A: "I think it is interesting! They can do anything they want with it. I think if it was all like neat and tidy at the end... It'd be cliche. I like complex, I'm a complex person so I like complex plots"

Essentially, he’s saying that the ending was strategically designed to keep fans engaged without giving away all the answers or fully developing Leon and Claire’s relationship. It’s a way to maintain interest in the franchise and perhaps set the stage for future exploration of their bond.

Here are SOME of S.D Perry's novel words about Leon and Claire's relationship:

[noraigo]

can we please talk about jiang yuelou and chen yuzhi?

if you told me a couple of months ago that i wouldn't get over a series about a hot-tempered policeman and a gentle doctor, i wouldn't have believed you. however, here i am and i cannot fathom the fact that this series is so underrated. the chemistry, the whole plot, the characters: chen yuzhi, jiang yuelou, chu ran, yu tangchun, among many others, are so well-built and i think that just for this, it deserves more recognition.

BUT, i’m solely here to talk about these two. can we appreciate how beautiful their relationship is? i am aware that they fall under the bromance trope, but you cannot convince me they are merely close friends, not when the whole series is based on a bl novel. although they start off a bit hostile (i know, i know), the evident infatuation jiang yuelou develops towards chen yuzhi and vice versa is so romantic. he finds everything the doctor does endearing, from his quiet surprises to the way he’s always trying to help him psychologically. yuelou suffers emotionally due to his bipolar disorder, with violent outbursts and unstability that makes him throughout the series, you get to know that yuelou is not the kind of person to seek help, that he would rather confront everything by himself than ask guidance. yet, somehow — he always comes to yuzhi when he’s uneasy or confused. it’s not a secret in the police bureau either, song rong and sun yongren (the most loyal characters i’ve seen in a series, i have to say) are pretty much aware of his liking towards yuzhi’s company. even jin dacheng himself insinuated that both of them didn’t have an innocent relationship at all.

the hugs, the touches, THE LOOKS! oh my goodness, their stares were the death of me. i am the kind of person who never skips initial and final credits, so i was very eager to know the hospital scene that happens at the very end of the credits, because i was sure it would become my favourite. i was right and i won’t forget the feeling i was experiencing: the look of relief on yuelou to see yuzhi alive before his eyes, but being on the verge of tears because he knew yuzhi almost didn’t make it? it's a mixture between guilt, relief and love, all in one. absolutely delightful. it’s a repetitive pattern though: yuzhi gets in trouble, yuelou goes crazy and once he’s safe in his arms again, it’s like a part of yuelou’s soul is being reassured that the most important person in his life is alive, safe and sound. because, oh my… in the novel, yuelou considers the doctor his zhī jǐ: a person who understands him deeply no matter what, similar to a soulmate. thanks to an user on tumblr and their translations, i could get to know that, in the audiodrama, yuelou’s feels go beyond platonic. “you’re more significant than friends. people touch you, it’s the same thing as them going after my life.” THIS IS SO RAW AND EMOTIONAL, I’M GOING TO FAINT. the fact that even when yuelou and yuzhi were in danger, as zhan junbai was watching them over, yuelou straight up says: (on my own words, as my memory has been failing me lately)

“is there something between us that can’t be said? we're of the same mind.” i’m so... give me a minute, please *inaudible screams and screeches*

one thing i noticed a lot while watching the series is the fact yuzhi is a very gentle, soft-spoken and intelligent character, which already makes him likable (oh, i LOVE kind-hearted characters) but when you see him through yuelou’s pov — slow motioned movements, timid dimpled smiles, a person whose demeanour is described as pure even — he becomes even more lovable and that’s how yuelou sees yuzhi. how crazy in love yuelou must be to stare at yuzhi while doing mundane things, such as having dinner together? absolutely not focusing on the plate underneath him. instead, grinning with doe eyes as he watches yuzhi looking at the snowy night. ROMANTICISM ON ITS PEAK.

however, for me, the most special thing is to see yuzhi reassuring yuelou by holding his hand so dearly, by hugging him out of relief to see him alive too, by cradling his hand on yuelou’s cheek to brush his tears away. THE ENDING, I CAN’T CONTINUE MY LIFE AND PRETEND NOTHING HAPPENED.

yuzhi is slowly passing away on the other’s arms. yuzhi always wants to be near him and it gets highlighted in his final words, he was too wishing to eat tang yuan with now commissioner jiang yuelou. even on death, he’s under the snow with him. even on death, yuelou’s fondest memories are with chen yuzhi, for he keeps their photo together close to his heart despite grieving his absence and having to take care of yuzhi’s little sister. yuelou simply sits on his home all alone, with the emptiest eyes which once had the entire galaxy shared with yuzhi. not moving, not doing anything. i felt like i was mourning with yuelou, i will never forget how he quietly lays down beside yuzhi’s body while crying his heart out when he realized the inevitable.

WHY? WHY IS THE ANGST SO BRILLIANT WITH THEM? THE LONGING, THE YEARNING, THE LOVE. i’m afraid i won’t enjoy anything that doesn’t remind me of them. there was a before and an after in me, it literally reseted my entire smooth brain.

everyone, go watch killer and healer. 37 episodes are definitely worth the time!

just look at them, i will respectfully combust.