#Because that's where I heard this complaint before specifically

[everyday-is-brighter-with-you]

Not sitting down to write a story and then realizing you don't know how to write your own story

[ozzgin]

“Do you mean it in the sense that Reader goes through monster boyfriends and is quick to dump them for the next catch”

Yep. Just a vile reader who’s breaking hearts left and right. I think you’ll write it beautifully if you channel your evil side like when you play the sims! ☺️

-👘

Yandere! Monsters x Heartbreaker! Reader

You've always been a free spirit, unable to settle on a single partner. Even after being abruptly transported into a different dimension where you are the only human surrounded by monsters, this habit of yours has persisted. Except monsters, as you will see, are harder to discard than humans. They aren't as willing to accept rejection.

Content: female reader, reader is a player, monster smut

Ah, how troublesome. He won't stop calling. You lazily pick up the phone and look for the options to block the number, clicking your tongue in irritation. You'd specifically told him you're not interested in anything serious. "Who's calling?" The man shuffles under the sheets, still half-asleep. "No one." You respond curtly, glaring at the intruder. "It's morning already, by the way. When are you leaving?"

You slam the door shut before the overnight guest can bring up the classic "Will I see you again", and exhale theatrically in relief. Finally alone again. You look up and shake your fist menacingly, as if whichever entity governing this world is responsible for your bad luck. You've always been utterly indifferent towards committed relationships, and yet most fuck buddies end up head over heels for you, dragging themselves at your feet like pitiful beggars. Pathetic and a pain in the ass to deal with.

Well, someone must be up there, because your situation feels too much like a sassy answer to your complaint. You've just rushed out of your apartment a moment ago and last time you checked, the concierge office wasn't on a rocky hill covered in deep cracks erupting with lava, stretching out into the seemingly unending horizon. Where the hell are you? You turn on your heels, reaching for the door, only to find out - who would've expected? - that it's gone. Great. Your immediate explanation is that the guy you've mistakenly brought home last night must've slipped something in your drinks. All this for a sloppy, clumsy eating out.

The worry of being drugged vanishes quickly once the first creatures of the realm appear. Hard to believe anything on the market could cause such detailed hallucinations that can sniff and touch you: Some alligator-looking minions with eyes popping out of their backs slid out of a nearby crevice to investigate the newcomer. Ironically enough, they seem to be the ones shocked by your appearance. Once they've hesitantly assessed your presence, they scurry aside to discuss their findings. "What could it be?" You hear one mumble, completely baffled. For whatever reason you can understand their language, so you decide to speed up their detective work. "Ever heard of human?" You shout, with a hint of sarcasm in your voice. The beasts gasp in unison. "Nonsense! Straight out of a children's tale!"

Eventually, after a lot of confusion and pointed fingers, you manage to figure out your predicament. You've somehow landed in a world of monsters, where humans are more of a fictional, mythical existence. Thankfully they don't seem to consider your potential as food, though you're not sure if the sudden, massive ambush of creatures is any better. The alligator-like quadrupeds brought you to the nearest settlement and had to form a barrier to stop the curious beasts from almost trampling you in their frenzy to see "the human". You've garnered ridiculous amounts of attention, yet such reaction is to be expected; how often would an earthling wander into their world? It could very well be a lifetime singularity for many.

As the days pass and you become more accustomed to your fate, you begin to feel that familiar calling. It doesn't look like you'll be going home anytime soon and a lady has her needs. Additionally, whatever popularity you had back in the human world is a minuscule fraction of what you're currently experiencing here. In the eyes of the monsters, you're an exotic treat that cannot be refused. It shouldn't be too hard to find yourself a partner, or two. Or three. Who keeps count nowadays?

You remember stumbling upon a postcard print of "The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife" at some museum shop. You immediately picked up the thick cardboard, eyeing the artwork in amusement. A woman enveloped in the limbs of two octopuses and very obviously enjoying herself. Who even came up with the pairing, you wondered at the time. Whatever the artist was thinking, you can certainly see his point now. The first one to receive your indecent proposal was an eldritch creature of sorts, something straight out of Lovecraft's lucid dreams. Dark, long tendrils sprawling out of an amorphous core - which you assume is its head based on the bulging, glistening orbs hungrily staring at you. Your whole body is throbbing under the tight hold of the slippery tentacles, wrapping around you in masterful intricacy. You could see the result featured in a bondage magazine, though you don't...can't ponder much on it given the fact you're, well, stuffed with monstrous appendages. You doubt any genital variation back home could compare. The monster is even polite enough to occasionally wipe away the continuous stream of drool spilling out of your whining mouth. Towards the end you barely have a voice anymore, throat sore from the loud moans and merciless constriction. Your muscles contract all at once, overwhelmed by the sensations. Whatever sensitive areas you might have are presently aching under the needy fondling of the creature.

Mind-blowing. The memory is enough to have you wet and squirming with desire. Even more so when you consider the other varieties of monsters ready to fuck you senseless. Soon enough you're surveying the neighborhood for the ideal suitors and thankfully you don't have to worry about making wrong choices, as there's always a next target. Thus the following weeks fill you with a particular kind of nostalgia (among other things and fluids), reminding you of the bed-hopping in the human realm. From werewolves drowning out your whimpers with their desperate howling, to hooved legs of hybrids violently thrusting into you until you're a dripping mess. "Look at me" is what one of the beasts demanded in a low growl, turning you on with its ragged voice and clawed hand encircling your frail neck. Although you had to ask it where exactly to look, given it was covered entirely in eyes.

You yawn and stare at the ceiling, reminiscing about the depraved fuckfest you're currently recovering from. You might've overdone it with the last one. Alas, you came enough times to make up for it. Just as you turn around to readjust the ice pack, you hear a loud thud coming from the entrance. You (carefully) sit up and rub your eyes, trying to focus on the shadow figure approaching your bed. It's one of the lizard monsters, swiftly slithering across the wall and landing over you with an angered expression. "Where the fuck is that dog?" it inquires with a hiss. "What? Who're you talking about?" you mumble, wildly confused. "The one that dared to touch you."

Oh, not this crap again. You almost roll your eyes. "You never said anything about us being together." Is your annoyed reply. "What? I thought it'd be obvious you belong to me!" You're about to question the strange logic, but your couple's quarrel is interrupted by the sound of shattered glass. The many-eyed monster crawls its way in with fluid, uncanny movements, releasing a deafening screech once it notices the lizard in your bed. "Off! Get off my human now!" is what it finally manages to verbalize in its fury. Okay, it seems to be the common belief. To clear off any shred of doubt remaining, the ceiling gives in and crumbles like putty under the weight of an enormous tentacle. You scream and cover your face from the bits of rubble flying everywhere, but you're quickly sheltered by another thick appendage looping itself around you, against the wrathful protests of the lizard. You did not anticipate the eldritch creature could expand to this gargantuan size.

For the first time since arriving here, you feel homesick. At least back home you could get rid of your annoying admirers with the slide of a button. Is there a larger scale alternative for cosmic blasphemies? You shake your fist (up? down? you can't tell in the darkness of the tentacle shield) towards the entity once more. Damn it, you've learned your lesson. Several steps must’ve been skipped before reaching a pack of angry, possessive monsters fighting over your ownership.

[cecilysobsessions]

THIEF (m.) | zuko

↬ word count: 8k

↬ fem!reader, enemies to lovers except zuko is insanely attracted to reader (so lowkey its not enemies to lovers lol) from the start and makes it really fucking obvious, zuko writes reader letters, some parts are from zuko’s pov

↬ summary: born into poverty with practically nothing, you managed to get through most of your life as a petty thief. turns out, you were pretty good at stealing and getting away with it. one night, you decide to target the great fire lord zuko of the fire nation. and it turns out, he’s kind of into it, and kind of into you.

↬ genre: fluff / smut

↬ warnings: slight knife play (is that a thing???), violence, blood, zuko attempting to stab you, zuko actually has rizz (unfortunately no canon awk zuko here 😓 but my fic DESTINY has that), pussy eating, hair pulling, swearing probably, typos

↬ a/n: when he threatens you with a knife in order to get you to kiss him and throws you in jail then burns your house down 😍

m.list

•••

“It’s you again,” he began, his hands at his side as if there wasn’t a whole ass dagger against his throat. “I was beginning to wonder where you had been. I missed you breaking into my room.”

“You look like you enjoy being threatened with a knife.” you spat out with a sly smirk.

“I wouldn’t say I hate it.” he teases, making no effort to resist you.

•••

There was a thief. A thief who could only be described as some low-life peasant that was terrorizing the kitchens in the middle of the night, never to be seen. But of course, the palace staff were always exaggerating the smallest things. As far as Zuko knew, it was only food that the thief ever stole. He didn’t mind much, after all, he used to do the same. However, clearly the thief thought they could do more than just steal kitchen scraps because that’s exactly what started happening. 

First, it was food scraps. Leftover lunch Zuko would throw away. 

Then it was the fruits and bread laying out on the counters in the kitchen.

The thief felt a little bold, so they began stealing trinkets here and there in the palace, some worth merely a meal, others worth the monthly salaries of the palace staff. 

Finally, the thief had found Zuko’s room.

Zuko was fed up. First, it was his food, but now it was his personal items? The newly crowned Fire Lord was sitting in his closet, golden eyes peeking through the cracks of the closet door. He was waiting—he had been for the past two hours—for the thief to enter his room. Perhaps there was a better way to catch the thug, but Zuko wanted to see them for himself, and capture the criminal with his own hands. He had been waiting and watching and he was growing more exhausted as it was later in the night, when he saw you.

Covered in head to toe black, he watched you silently climb to pick the lock on his window, and enter. Your face was covered in black, too, and all he could make out was the stunning gaze from your eyes. He watches you silently roam around his bedroom familiarly. You had clearly been here before. It was as if you were looking for something specific. Maybe something you had your eye on already. Zuko watched your figure search the room, and it was dead silent in the room except for the sound of his heartbeat. He watched—no, observed your movements. You had moved around stealthily and expertly; you were experienced. You knew what you were doing.

•••

You noticed the Fire Lord the moment you stepped into his room. How could you not? He wasn’t in his bed when you entered and judging by the way it was still made, you knew he had probably been planning something. You didn’t even try to make an effort to hide your presence; you knew there weren’t going to be consequences. For months you had been overhearing Zuko brush off the palace staff when they brought their complaints about you to him, so of course he wasn’t going to do anything. 

Tonight, you were going to look for some sort of jewelry his mother owned. When spying on the servants, you heard he kept her most precious necklace somewhere in his room. It was made of some rare stone that was only found on the palace grounds and nowhere else. Luckily for you, you were a good thief and just so happened to be short on money. That necklace was going to be yours, and all you had to do was figure out where it was. 

When you’re searching through his nightstand, you hear an inhale. It wasn’t yours. Your eyes dart to the closet where you heard it, and that’s when you see a pair of amber eyes staring back at you through the cracks of the closet door. His gaze stays on your figure, watching your every movement while he tries to decide what to do in that half-second you make eye contact.

But you’re faster.

You’ve already sprinted to the closet door, practically ripping it off its hinges. You fist up the robe he’s wearing, dragging him out in a single and swift movement. One hand automatically covers his mouth to suppress any noise, while you tackle him to the ground. You pull out a small dagger from beneath your clothes, quickly pressing the sharp blade to his throat. You stare at him from up above his body as you trap him between you, your legs and weight holding him down.

•••

Zuko hadn't had a woman on top of him in God knows how long.

Your hand was forcefully pressing down on his face so hard he could barely make a sound. You were sitting on top of him, a small knife pressed against his throat with harmful intent. Your breathing was steady and controlled, all while he was practically panting from the panic–no, the excitement. Nothing about this situation was sexy, so why was a part of him excited that the mysterious thief was sitting on him threatening him with a knife?

It’s you, he tried to mumble against your hand, but you only pressed the blade into him more forcefully. He held his hands up to make peace; he wasn’t trying to die. Not now, not after he had just discovered that your piercing gaze had him giggling on the inside. 

“Not gonna put up a fight?” you sounded like an angel from heaven. He makes an X with his arms, and you remove the knife from his throat. “I only want one thing, Prince Zuko.”

I’m the Fire Lord, was what he tried to mumble against your gloved hand. He wondered if it was soft and nice to hold. 

“You scream, and I’ll kill you. Got it?” you promised.

He was still focused on your hand. It was smaller than his; it would for sure be lovely to hold. 

But he nodded, and in return, you hesitantly lifted your hand from his mouth. 

“GUARDS—”

You had already knocked him out with the opposite end of your dagger. 

“What a fucking turd,” you mumbled to yourself as you dragged the royal piece of shit back into the closet. You had gagged and tied up Zuko after knocking him out, and now that would let you carry out your mission in peace. Luckily the guards outside his chambers either didn’t hear him, or he wasn’t loud enough, because they didn’t make a move to enter or check up on him. You were going to find that necklace and sell it off the market, and probably do the same thing a couple of months from now when you run out of money again. Only with a different piece of jewelry. 

After searching the room, practically ransacking the entire thing, you were still unable to find it. Every drawer, every surface, every nook and cranny of his stupidly large room was uselessly empty. Although you had stumbled upon other pieces of jewelry, they weren’t nearly as much as his mother’s necklace. Settling with that, you left Zuko in the closet and took off.

The next time Zuko awakened he was parched and tied up. After struggling to escape the tied rope around his wrists, he searched his room for you. Most of the jewelry he had owned was gone, except for his mother’s necklace. Something precious and rare like that had to be hidden. If hidden counts as Zuko just wearing the necklace himself and hiding it under his clothes, then it was hidden. 

•••

Zuko hates that you haven’t shown up in weeks.

He also hates that he has noticed your absent presence. 

He knows he should be happy about not seeing you. After all, you are a thief and all you were doing was stealing precious valuables from him and the palace. Yet somehow he was beginning to find himself watching his windows at night, and at some point, he had become desperate enough to leave them unlocked throughout the night in hopes you’d visit.

You still didn’t. 

Although he hadn’t known you that long or that well, he had understood why you were doing what you were doing. After having to be on his own for a bit in his teenage years, he was able to realize the reality of what you were doing. He had assumed you felt the same way as him in his youth: lost and angry and desperate. Perhaps you had a family to feed. Perhaps it was just you. Perhaps you were just trying to survive, and this was the only way you knew how to do it.

Fortunately for him, his questionable rising feelings for you were ripped from his heart when he heard the news of why you had been gone for so long.

“She was seen harassing some girls by the river.” he had been told.

“She was jailed for a couple of nights for assaulting a group of men in a bar.”

“Not only was she stealing from you, but she has begun stealing from our citizens.”

“The people are scared, Zuko. She is a terror to our towns.”

Zuko knew you weren’t the greatest person to ever exist, but he didn’t expect you to go around assaulting people.

Harassing a group of girls? Stealing from innocent citizens? You were far from kind, and now that it was affecting people besides himself, he knew he had to do something. His people were in danger, and he wasn’t going to let some petty thief get away with assault and battery. He had to do something. His hand automatically came up to touch his mother’s necklace around his neck, knowing the fastest way to get you to come back would be to use that necklace. To sacrifice it.

•••

Sitting quietly on a tree branch as you munch on stolen bread, your gaze follows Zuko, who is pacing back and forth in his room. You knew you hadn’t been on your best game lately. More people were seeing you and there were growing numbers of your wanted posters each day. But you were growing desperate for money. You were aware that Zuko knew; how could he not? But he wouldn’t understand why you were doing all of this. While you’re busy watching his moves, you notice a shiny glint of a certain stone sitting on his chest. 

His mother’s necklace. 

Of course! You couldn’t find it anywhere in his room because he had been wearing it this entire time. You quickly decide tonight would be the night you’d sneak in to steal his necklace. But how? If he was wearing it the entire time, he would for sure wake up in the midst of you removing it from his body. You could probably knock him out first. Given that he was easy to knock out the first time, the second time shouldn’t be too hard. You bested him before; you could do it again.

After dropping down from the trees, climbing some bushes, and making your way up through walls and vines, you had managed to get to his window. 

It was unlocked.

Odd, since it was usually shut tight and locked. But it was unlocked and open and so easy to climb through. Zuko looks asleep, but he could be pretending to be. Was he trying to bait you? Get you to come in because guards were hiding and ready to ambush you? You hadn’t heard or seen anything, and since you had been watching him for a couple of hours, you hadn’t noticed anything. Shrugging, you decide to climb through anyway. You’d be able to fight back. Probably.

You silently land on his rug, walking over to him and standing over his body. His mother’s necklace sat around his neck, the moonlight shining on the precious stone and highlighting it in a beautiful glint. You watch him for a second, and this is the first time you get to look at him up close. 

His skin is practically flawless—perfect, even. The soft locks so perfectly frame his face shape and his jawline is so chiseled it could probably cut through ice and—

“Admiring my beauty?” his eyes slightly open, staring up at you.

You panic, rushing to grab your dagger from your side and practically climbing on top of him on his bed. In a split second he’s beneath you, your dagger to his throat once again.

“It’s you again,” he began, his hands at his side as if there wasn’t a whole ass dagger against his throat. “I was beginning to wonder where you had been. I missed you breaking into my room.”

“You look like you enjoy being threatened with a knife.” you spat out with a sly smirk.

“I wouldn’t say I hate it.” he teases, making no effort to resist you.

You press the blade to his throat once more, this time with much more force, and you hear his breath hitch. You weren’t actually planning on killing him; the cleanup would be far too messy. You just wanted to scare him, but he was looking more turned on than he was afraid.

“Do it again,” he tells you. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

“Making jokes when you’re the one in danger? That’s not very smart of you.” 

“I’m in danger? Oh, please. Don’t be ridiculous.” he grabs your leg from under, quickly turning the tables as he forces your body to his bed. You find yourself in his position, looking at him. He watches you from above, his long hair barely covering his face. His hands effortlessly pin yours above your head as you struggle against him. He’s pushed aside your legs so he’s fit snug between you and you can’t help but look down. God, what would the guards think if they walked in right now? You toss and turn against his silk sheets as he continues to stare you down, his gaze arrogant and inviting. Stealing your dagger, he tips your chin upwards with the end of it. He leans in closer, his body heat radiating off of him and his chest is practically pressed up against yours.

“So you could overpower me this whole time and only choose to do it now?” you question him. What the fuck was wrong with this guy?

“It joys me to be looking at you on top of me. But the view of you beneath me isn’t too bad either.” his voice is dangerously sweet and if you weren’t trying to steal from him you’d probably try to fuck him instead. With his body on top of yours and with his hips pressed against your own, your mind was beginning to cloud with the thought of taking his pants off instead of that dumb necklace.

“Is that so?” you ask him, raising an eyebrow.

“Turns me on.” he still has your knife on your chin.

“I figured you’d be a freak. Makes me wonder what other weird shit you’re into.”

“You could come and find out.”

“For a price I could.”

“I thought you were a thief; not a prostitute.”

“And I thought you were supposed to be good at fighting. Why have I bested you?”

“That’s simply because I let you.” 

You scoff. What the hell was up with this guy? “I bet you don’t even know how to use that. Put it down before you cut my precious face.”

“Oh, I would never do anything to hurt your beautiful face.” he lightly drags the knife against your skin, slowly and teasingly. 

“Having fun?” you tease, but you feel yourself swallow anxiously.

“Very much so. I know what you’re here for.” you watch Zuko as he continues to trace your skin with your own dagger. His eyes aren’t looking into yours, but are taking in your body.

“Alright, let’s make this easy then. Give me your necklace and I’ll leave,” you tell him. You were starting to grow more nervous the more he traced your skin with your dagger. Strangely though, you almost liked it. The sensation of the cold sharp metal against your skin was sending shivers of excitement down your spine.

“Have you seen your wanted posters? They’re all over the place.” he ignores your demand with a question.

“They could have drawn me better, but they’ll do.”

“It would appear no piece of art could capture your beauty so well. Looking at you up close and personal, those posters don’t do you any justice.” Zuko leans down, his mouth almost against yours, eyes droopy as he stares at your lips. 

You swallow nervously. Being trapped beneath him had you feeling anxious, but somewhere deep down excited. The way he was looking at you right now was definitely not the way you’d be looking at some criminal. He was staring at you like he was about to kiss you. 

You shakily exhale against his cheek, and he laughs lightly. Did you have asthma or something? Why were you breathing so heavily? You dare to look into his eyes, and it looks like a fire has been ignited in them. He moves his head so that his mouth is practically on your neck. You tense and shudder at the feeling of his hot breath against your bare skin.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers and his other hand moves to dangle his necklace in front of your face.

“Isn’t that what I just asked for?” you answer sarcastically. Being in close proximity to him was messing with your mind and body.

His robe is lazily draped around his body and his necklace dangles teasingly from his neck. Looking further down his body, you watch his broad chest heave as he teases you.

“It’s going to cost you.”

“You know I don’t have money.”

“It’s not money that I want.”

“What is it, then?”

Zuko smirks, and watching him has you feeling suspicious. Where was he going with this? Shouldn’t he be calling his guards in? You were wanted, and here he was sitting on top of you teasing you with your own knife? 

“Kiss me.” he finally tells you. His voice contrasts his expression; he speaks softly, gently.

“Are you fucking crazy? No.”

“I’m the one with the knife.”

“That all you got? Use it then.” you scoff.

Zuko hesitates, considering your statement. “Wouldn’t it be so sad to get stabbed with your own knife?” he smiles sadistically, and before you know it, he’s no longer on top of you. Your eyes widen in surprise as he grabs your hand and pins it to the wall above his bed, your dagger coming down about to stab your hand to the wall. 

You react quickly, dodging the stab and tackling him to the bed. Knocking the weapon from his hands, it falls to the floor louder than you thought it would. The heavy metal is obnoxiously loud in the silence of his room, and you both pause when you hear a guard from outside his room. 

“Are you alright, your majesty?” it’s one of the guards.

You panic once again, leaning down and pressing your lips against his to shut him up. If Zuko yelled that you were in here, you’d be thrown in jail again. You could handle fighting Zuko, but you probably couldn’t handle it if all his guards came in to fight you. 

He stills for a second against your lips, surprised you’re kissing him when just a few seconds ago he was aiming to stab your hand and pin it to the wall like a poster. But he knows you’re just doing it to shut him up, so he pulls away. Or at least, he tries to. But you’re pinning his hands above his head and holding his legs down with yours. 

Zuko struggles against your lips, trying to ignore the fact that you’re a good kisser and it’s distracting him from trying to get away from you. He should be pulling away from you; not pushing into you. When he comes to his senses, he manages to break free and scream.

“She’s here! The thief is here!”

•••

When you awaken, you see that you’ve been placed in a dark and dirty wet jail cell. You look up to see Zuko, standing on the other side of the bars, his hands holding on to the cell door as he stares down at you. You notice a glint of metal peaking out from the pocket of his pants. The keys.

“You’re a good kisser, I’ll give you that.” 

You ignore him. “What am I doing here?” Looking up at him makes you feel inferior, so you stand up, walking to where he is on the other side.

“Did you forget you’re a criminal? You’ve harassed two young girls by the river, assaulted four men at a bar, and stole from six houses in the area.” he lectures you. “You’re a menace to the town and you’re frightening my people. At first, I didn’t mind you stealing from me, but you’re going after innocent people now, and I will not stand by and let that happen,” he tells you, his voice high and authoritative. 

You scoff, did this guy even bother to investigate? “I was telling those girls by the river to fuck off or jump in because they were bullying a girl their age earlier in an alleyway and I saw. I beat the shit out of those men at the bar because they were trying to drug someone’s drink and nobody saw but me. Those six houses I stole from were just their homes. I may be a thief, but I’m not some crazy criminal that goes after innocent people.”

He looks taken aback, his knuckles turning white from gripping the cell bars too tightly. He stares at you, dumbfounded. 

“Even so,” he starts. “You can’t take matters into your own hands. We have law enforcement for that. You should’ve reported it. Why did you get involved?”

“Your police officers are trash. That shit show of a place is my home neighborhood, and your uptight officers don’t want to bother policing around because it’s poor. No one else is going to do something, so I did.” you tell him. Not that Zuko needed to know much about your shitty and poor upbringing. He wouldn’t understand anyways; he grew up in a fucking palace. 

“I’m working on that.”

“Not fast enough, clearly. If you’re not going to fix the problem of crime, then I will.”

“You can’t fight fire with fire.”

“Well I did and it worked. You wouldn’t know; you’re just a spoiled prince born into the royal family. You don’t know shit about struggle.”

It was like a slap to his face. “You don’t know me,” he snaps, his jaw tightening.

Looks like you've hit a nerve. If Zuko wasn’t pissed earlier, he was definitely pissed off now. You couldn’t understand him at all. First, he stares at you like he wants to fuck you, then he tries to drive a dagger through your hand, then he’s complimenting the way you kiss him, and now he’s looking at you like he’s going to keep you locked up forever. 

This man was attracted to you. 

And he had no idea how to deal with it.

A smile dances on your lips, feeling cocky and confident you’ve figured him out. He wants you, but he hates you. He hates what you’ve done, but he can’t help but be attracted to you. 

“You want me,” you begin, your hand forcefully grabbing the collar of his shirt. You eye his chest; his mother’s necklace is gone. “And you hate it.” you figured maybe you could use the fact that he wanted you to get out of jail. Maybe, just maybe, if you seduced him successfully, he’ll let you go. It was either that or violence.

“What the hell are you doing?” he rasps. His eyes search for yours in the dark in a panic. He is unsure of what to do, unsure of how to react, unsure of what to say. “Why the hell would I want you? You’re a criminal,” he says in disgust. “A thief,” he continues. 

“I just told you why I did those things. Can’t you let it go just this once?” you peer up at him, tilting your chin towards him. Your lips hover over his, and if it weren’t for the stupid metal bars between the two of you, you’d have hugged him. You hoped your shit way of seducing him was working at least a little.

Zuko’s eyes draw together in irritation. He was struggling to breathe, the close proximity throwing him off. It was dark, moody, and he could barely make out your face but even so, he was unable to tear his gaze from yours. He wasn’t sure if you were actually feeling him, and his gut told him you were just some filthy liar, but he couldn’t help but begin to feel bad for you. After hearing your explanation for your questionable actions, he was starting to feel that maybe you weren’t just some menacing thief the town made you out to be.

He ignores your question. “You can’t take my necklace this way,” he tells you, wondering if you were pulling this close to try and snatch it from his neck.

“I noticed you’re not wearing it,” you reply, wondering what more you might need to do to get him to slightly lean into you a bit more. “Please, Zuko.” you plead. “I have a younger brother to feed.” a total fucking lie.

His face leans closer to yours between the bars, and when you see in his eyes he’s let his guard down, you make your move. The keys are in one of your hands and the other punches him straight in his face, knocking him down. His body unconsciously slides down the bars as you quickly move to unlock the jail cell door. When you step out, your eye catches the shimmering glint of a stone on the ground. His mother’s necklace had fallen out of his other pocket.

“Fucking idiot.”

•••

She’s a filthy liar.

She’s a filthy liar.

She’s a filthy liar.

Zuko told himself that over and over like it was some sort of mantra. He thought that if he said it enough times, he’d eventually believe it. He had been absolutely humiliated by you. He was in utter shock that he let you seduce him, feel guilty for jailing you, feel bad for your supposed horrible life, and knock him out to escape jail. 

While he had to begrudgingly admit that you outsmarted him, at least he got you to stop your crimes. It was almost as if you didn’t exist at all. You had disappeared from the Fire Nation completely, nowhere to be seen in nearby towns or cities. When he sent out a search party, they had come back to him with news of your where your home was. 

“Burn it down,” he had told his men. “Burn it all down. That’ll get her to come out and give me my necklace back.”

“Are you sure? What about the people?” they were unsure.

“Stage it as an accident. And make sure there is nobody nearby. She took the most valuable thing from me, so I will simply do the same.” he could have totally gone after your brother, but he wasn’t a murderer.

God, Zuko was such a genius for that! You would for sure come marching back into his chambers demanding answers if he showed you that he meant business. And maybe you’d threaten him with a knife again.

God, Zuko was such an idiot for that.

He wondered if you were causing chaos in other places, but if you were, he would have been informed of it. He was unsure how you were living your life until he went back to his chambers that night.

Now that you had stolen his mother’s necklace, Zuko guessed you probably broke it up to sell it in pieces and were probably living quietly off of that money. But if that were true, then it was only a matter of time before you ran out of the money and were going to strike again. He debated if he wanted to send out a search party of his own to capture you, but he didn’t want his citizens to fear you again.

Instead, he merely sent out a search party to figure out your location. You were currently residing with a couple of farmers in the countryside, living quietly as you worked for them in the fields. He thought it was odd that you were working; after all, his mother’s necklace was worth thousands, so you could definitely live off of that for a while. It had only been half a year since he’s last seen you, so realistically maybe you did run out of money. 

He wanted to know what you did with his mother’s necklace. Where you sold it, who you sold it to, and when. That was one of the few items he had left of his mother, so he had held onto it like a child holding onto their favorite stuffed toy. And you had ripped it out of his hands like an angry parent. Zuko wanted to keep the whole situation under wraps, so instead of visiting you in person, he figured he’d do it some other way.

•••

“Lin, you have a letter.” one of the farmers handed you an envelope. You had taken a job under a fake name for some random people in the countryside after stealing Zuko’s necklace and running away. After coming back to your house burned down, you had no other choice but to leave. Sitting on some hay bales in the sheds, you tear open the envelope.

I want my mother’s necklace back. Send back with messenger.

Zuko

You scoff. Was Zuko that much of a coward he couldn’t show up in person and demand things with his own voice? He really had to send a whole letter and waste paper? When you didn’t respond, another letter came two weeks later.

I know you didn’t sell it. If you did, you wouldn’t be working for these farmers.

Zuko

and I know you don’t have a younger brother.

So Zuko was watching you, or at least he was having someone do the watching for him. But he was right about you not selling his mother’s necklace. You had stolen it in hopes of making some money off it by selling it on the black market, but after inspecting it further you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

It was something small and insignificant, but you could tell it meant everything to him. There was an engraving on the back of the stone, possibly hand carved by his mother. For My Zuko. You didn’t know much about the royal family, but you did know Zuko very much cared for her. Inspecting the necklace in detail reminded you of your own mother who had disappeared when you were younger. You hadn’t seen her since she disappeared without a trace, as Zuko’s mother did. Although she had left you, prior to that she was loving and caring and did her best to raise you as a single mother. 

You hated how his mother’s necklace made you think of your own. It opened a floodgate of emotions you didn’t have time to deal with. As weak as it made you, you didn’t have the heart to sell it. If anything, you were just going to give it back and move on with your life. But when Zuko sent word asking for it back, you knew what would happen if you did.

You’d give him back the necklace and in return, ask to be pardoned for your crimes. He’d probably oblige, and that would be the end of it. You would go back to being a petty thief and he would go back to ruling the Fire Nation. And the two of you would never interact again.

Something about the thought of Zuko no longer chasing after you had you hesitating to give the necklace back. Something about Zuko not being completely afraid of you had you hesitating. Something about Zuko being more intrigued than terrified of you had you hesitating. 

You hated it. You hated how he tugged at your heart strings and had you stopping in your tracks and thinking of ways to get him to keep reaching out to you. To keep chasing you. 

When you replied to his first two letters with silence, he sent another one a week later.

I apologize for the inconvenience I might have caused you by burning down your house. I didn’t realize that shed made of rotten wood was actually a home to you. Please accept the gold coins included to get you by.

Zuko

Shed? That shed?! Zuko was the one who burned your home down when you thought there was some sort of accident? If Zuko was trying to piss you off, it was working. Your blood was boiling and you felt your rage rising in your blood and all you wanted to do in the moment was hunt him down and punch him square in the nose for doing that to you. Although it wasn’t much, it gave you shelter and kept you dry and warm. You were grateful for it; besides, some people had it worse.

You continued to stay on the farm under a fake name, trying to get by as you planned your next move (you did not have another move) when you received another letter.

The gold coins were for you, not my messenger. Feel free to use them. There is no catch, in case that is what you are thinking. And you do not owe me anything in return except my mother’s necklace. 

Zuko

“Got a lover?” the farmer asked as he watched you read the letter.

“No,” the word escaped your mouth too quickly than it should have.

“Friend?”

“Not really.”

“Family member?”

“Nope.”

“Then?”

You paused. You weren’t sure what Zuko was. A lover? Not quite. Besides being on top of him an odd number of times in a short period of time and kissing him, the two of you weren’t in love. Enemies? You did knock him out and he tried to stab a hole through your hand and he did threaten you with a knife and throw you in jail and burn down your house, but—

“Ah, I see it’s complicated,” he told you, his eyes on yours.

Over a couple of weeks, you began to receive more letters from Zuko. Each one grew more desperate than the previous.

It gets quiet here around the palace now that you are gone. It is far too peaceful and I am beginning to crave the chaos you previously brought to my life. I wouldn’t mind if you reintroduced that chaos again.

Forget the necklace for now. Write me back.

Zuko

•••

In case you did not receive my previous letter, I am writing a new one. Your wanted posters have been taken down from the city, and like I told you, they do not do you justice. Perhaps a visit from you and we can redo the posters. Not to hang up again, but only so that I do not begin to think you are a horrendous hag as they make you out to be. You are completely the opposite.

Zuko

•••

I apologize if my previous letter offended you. I do not have a way with words. I only meant to compliment your beauty. Unfortunately, I am unable to describe it with words, so I apologize for not being a poet. The only thing I can think of is how you make me feel when you are trying to kill me with that dagger of yours. My heart stops and my gaze can only follow your actions. It is dangerous. You are dangerous. But I like it. And I miss it.

Zuko

•••

I do not know how many letters I have sent you. Normally I write them during the day because writing them at night makes me feel unnecessary emotions related to my longing for you. Please respond to at least one. I am getting desperate. So desperate I woke up in the middle of the night to write this one. The moonlight is shining through the window as I write this, and the only thing I can think of is how the moonlight highlights your beauty and how your sharp gaze pierces through my soul every time I gaze into the warm universe that is your eyes.

Please forget about the necklace entirely. I do not need its return. I only need yours.

Zuko

•••

Zuko is a light sleeper. Any sort of noise, whether it is a footstep or a gust of wind, he can and will wake up. It’s a footstep. His eyes twitch open in annoyance. Why are they opening his window? He had specifically told the servants to stay out of his chambers when he goes to bed, so why are they opening his windows? It’s far too cold and he didn’t need any fresh air–

There are no servants.

Zuko’s body jerks to life, abruptly sitting up and rubbing his eyes to clear his vision. Across from his bed is his window being forced open, a loud gust of wind interrupting him. There is a figure at the window, barely crawling in. Struggling to make it through the entrance, he watches the practically lifeless body stumble through onto his floor before he steps out of bed in a panic.

It’s you.

You’re hunched over on the floor, hand gripping your stomach as blood seeps through your fingers.

“What–” he barely has time to talk as he’s rushing over to you, lifting you into his arms effortlessly as he brings you over to his bed and lies you down. Hurriedly, he shrugs off his robe and presses it down over your stomach. He’s shirtless now, basically naked, but that doesn’t matter. But he did see you look him up and down. “What are you doing here?” he presses down on your wound to apply pressure.

“I–I didn’t know where else to go.” you managed to let out through clenched teeth.

“Who did this to you?” Zuko demanded, his tone of voice high and authoritative. 

“I’m fucking bleeding out and you’re asking me that?”

“Put pressure on this. I’ll call my doctor–stay here.”

After rushing out of his personal chambers to wake his doctor up in the middle of the night, he waited outside as they worked on you. It was a fresh stab wound. It wasn’t too deep and didn’t hit any vital organs, but you’d still be in pain when you woke up.

When you wake up, you instantly feel the pain from your stab wound. Your hand automatically moves to your stomach only to feel you’ve been wrapped up in bandages. Blinking, you sit up. A fire is going across the room, it is warm and cozy as opposed to the other nights you’ve spent in here. The other times you’ve been here have been cold and empty, but now it is the opposite. 

“Tea?” Zuko suddenly speaks up from the other side of the room. He crosses the floor and hands you a mug. “It’s jasmine.”

Taking a sip, you feel the hot liquid soothe your dry throat. “It’s nice to wake up in a bed rather than a wet jail cell.”

“You wouldn’t have been in that jail cell had you not assaulted me,” he slightly jokes, sitting across from you on the edge of the bed. 

He looks rugged, and tired, almost as if he hasn’t been sleeping. He gazes at you, his eyes softened as he watches your movements. He almost looks worried.

“So I suppose I’ll be going back to jail after you let me rest up a bit?”

He ignores your question, only choosing to tug his blanket further up your body in an attempt to warm you up. “Didn’t you get my letters?”

“I did.”

“You didn’t reply to any of them.”

“I didn’t know what to say.” A moment of silence fills the room, and you feel the need to fill it by continuing to speak. “I didn’t sell your mother’s necklace. I still have it.”

“You do?” his eyes light up, hopeful.

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Why’s that?” he ponders as you reach into your pocket to hand the precious jewelry back to its rightful owner.

“Reminded me of my own mother.” you don’t elaborate further. 

Zuko seems to sense this because he sets the matter aside with a small and quick nod, opting to watch you instead.

“Here,” you pull the necklace out from your pockets with a trembling hand and reach to hand it to him.

He notices your trembling hand, choosing to close his own hands around yours instead of taking the necklace. His hands feel like a warm embrace that engulf you in safety and warmth.

“Thank you,” he says as he sets the necklace down beside him. “But I’m more worried about you now.”

“After I stole from you and assaulted you?”

“It would seem I’m into women who can kill me.”

He looks up at you through his curled lashes, the soft locks of his hair caressing his face as he stares into your eyes, holding your gaze. “What happened to you?” he whispers gently, leaning closer to you.

It’s intimate, really. He’s in such close proximity it makes your heart beat with anxiety the closer he gets. You’d never noticed this before, but Zuko truly holds such a soft beauty to him it’s hard to look away. 

“One of those guys at the bar I beat up. Found me walking on the street alone.” you explain.

“You shouldn’t be out on the streets alone at night.”

You scoff. “Please, you should’ve seen what I did to him.”

“He stabbed you.”

“I stabbed him back. And at least all my bones are nice and intact. His, however, are not.”

A crooked smile spreads across his face. “Impressive.”

There’s an awkward silence and suddenly your mind goes back to the letters that he sent you. Each one grew more desperate the more time that passed and the more you ignored him. You recall each one practically confessing his feelings for you. 

Why though? How could Zuko even fall for you? After all you did to him: the stealing and thieving, the assaulting, everything. Yet he confessed through his letters, and you were sure he was about to confess again right now.

“Those letters,” you begin before he can even say anything. “Did you mean what you said in them?” 

“Every word.” he confirms. “You don’t believe me?”

“After all I’ve done to you, it’s hard to.”

“You can consider yourself pardoned for your crimes. Happy?” he offers.

“That’s perfect, actually. I was going to dangle your mother’s necklace in front of you and demand to be pardoned.”

“It’s too bad you got stabbed before having the chance to do so.”

“Still hard to believe your feelings though, I’ll admit.” you tell him.

A pause. Then, “Why don’t I show you then?”

The question hangs in the air. The air that’s slowly been filling with the unspoken sexual tension building between you both since you woke up. 

“Alright, prove it to me then.”

Zuko simply smiles in response before his lips are on yours. Despite what you thought, his kiss is gentle and you find yourself melting into it. You relax into his touch, into the fingers that find your hair to gently stroke the back of your head with such tender love and care. 

You’re out of breath quickly as he pulls away, his lips meeting the hot skin of your neck. You lean back slowly, trying to be mindful of your fresh stab wound. 

“Careful now,” he whispers against your neck and you shudder. “Lie down.” 

He guides your body so that you are comfortably laying on your back and his lips are at your neck again, leaving hot kisses across your skin. His hands firmly stroke your thighs, squeezing assuredly as he continues sucking and kissing at your skin. You arch into him, wincing at the pain in your stomach before he pulls away.

“Didn’t think a couple of kisses would have you arching your back.”

“Shut up and go down on me.” you demand as you begin to wriggle out of your pants.

“A former criminal telling the Fire Lord what to do? My my, think of the gossip that would go around if word of this got out.” he teases, propping your legs up and setting his hands on your knees. 

Zuko playfully spreads your legs open with his hands, stroking the exposed skin. He leans down, leaving a kiss on your thigh. His mouth continues on your skin, leaving kisses and bite marks and you feel yourself softly moaning from his kisses. Your hips slightly jerk up, and in response he gently holds you down with his hands. 

Pulling away from your thighs, he runs an experimental lick into your slit, and you feel yourself tremble in arousal. He holds your thighs open as you tense around him, yanking his hair to pull him further into you. You feel him softly laugh in response before he opens his mouth. He slowly and teasingly drags his tongue up your pussy, eliciting a moan from your lips. You gasp when you feel him sucking on your clit, expertly working on it as he gently sucks on it. 

You yank on his hair again, and you both moan at the sensation of pleasure running through your veins. You feel yourself heating up as your hips hump his face and his tongue drags up and down your pussy. You feel yourself throbbing, sweat beading at your forehead as he allows you to practically ride his face and pull on his hair. 

Something about Zuko letting you have your way with him has you throbbing and tightening around nothing. You whimper breathlessly and you feel him smile in response. He pulls away only for a second to blow cold air against your throbbing pussy, and you feel yourself shudder at the sensitivity. 

“Pull away again and I’ll give you a matching stab wound.” you threaten, yanking his hair again to drag him to where he belongs. 

“You’re lucky I’m into this.” he chuckles as he gives into your demand, tongue going back to your clit. 

You feel his fingers creep up to your slit, teasingly rubbing at your entrance before he slips a finger in. It slips in instantly, your slick wetness coating his finger as he moves it further into you. Your legs wrap around his neck and while he may or may not be able to breathe, you’re not worried about that. He’ll find a way. You enjoy his finger working you with his tongue in your clit, but you need more.

“More.” you demand.

“More of what?” he pulls away and stares at you from between your legs. 

“Your fingers.”

“So greedy you are.” he complains, but obliges anyway. 

You feel him insert two more fingers and you find yourself riding both his face and his fingers. You let out a moan of pleasure, your chest heaving as you ride closer to your high. You can feel Zuko squirming in his pants and you’re sure he might be uncomfortable, but in this moment you’re only worried about your own pleasure and it would seem he feels the same way. 

“F-Fuck,” you stutter, your hands fisting his bed sheets. 

“Careful, that’s silk.” he warns you against your pussy.

“Shut up and keep sucking.” you yank him back and he continues.

You continue to rock your hips up into his face as he fingers your slick pussy, fucking you harder and faster as your moans grow more desperate and your hips begin to clumsily rock against his face. He sucks at your clit and adds another finger and that’s when you feel yourself spill over the edge, shuttering and shaking against him as he helps you through your orgasm, fingers slowly helping you through it.

When you’ve come down from your high, he sits up, a visible boner against his robes. “Did you think we were done?” he smirks, wiping his face with the back of his hand and leaning in for another kiss.

•••

a/n: it’s my one year anniversary of writing on this blog! my next zuko story will not be him as fire lord i’ve written too many fics w him as fire lord, so i’ll switch it up in my next one <3

also nanami from jjk is next if anyone cares (ik i said i’d post levi after but he can wait lmao)

m.list

[flynnriderishot]

I might die if we don't get scandals part 3

scandals pt.3 - c.s

a/n: chill bae 😭😔

it’s been two days since chris has sent you those flowers and he felt absolutely terrible at your lack of response. of course, nick told him if your thankfulness but he wanted you to tell him. he wanted some sort of indication that you forgave him for his mistake.

then again, he knew he wasn’t dating an easily forgiving woman.

you’ve only ever opened his messages he’s sent you since then, constant apologies filling your messages and ‘read at 1:35 pm’ being at the bottom of his screen every time.

today, he and his brothers were filming a video and you had promised matt and nick weeks ago that you would participate. he knew you were a woman of your word and never backed down so he was fully expecting to see you today. which is why he went out of his way to drag force matt to the store to stock up on your favorite snacks.

while this was a normal occurrence anytime you showed up at their house, he knew you appreciated the gesture.

so he sat on the couch with his leg bouncing up and down whilst he waited for your arrival.

nick was setting up the camera while matt changed his outfit for the third time that night. chris looked down at his own attire and wondered if maybe he should make himself a bit more presentable for you.

the thought immediately flew from his mind when he heard the doorbell ring.

“I got it!” he shouted, startling nick, who stared in disbelief at his sudden energy.

“you were gonna get it anyway.”

he hesitated in opening the door, clearing his throat before finally doing so.

“hi.” he breathed out, staring down at you with a small smile.

“hi, christopher.” you greeted, “can i come in?”

he stepped aside, “of course. i got you your favorite—what the fuck, matt!?”

the middle triplet stopped mid chew, “what?”

“that’s not yours asshole.” chris snatched the candy out of his hand, earning a shove from his older brother.

“i drove you there so i’ll eat what i want.” matt rolled his eyes, “hi, yn.”

“hey, matt.” you chuckled, knowing he was purposely trying to irritate chris to ‘avenge’ you as he stated in your texts.

“can we start filming now, or what?” matt interrupted, pulling you into a quick side hug while simultaneously walking you around the counter, “it’s blind, deaf, and mute by the way.”

•••

sturnioloupdate made a post !

comments

lovelysturn matt knows something

>>> ynsbabe the smile says all 😌

mattsgirl ‘hey guys, today we’re doing a blind, deaf and mute challenge again!’ *22 minutes of chris watching yn and no baking getting done*

>>> ynxchris you’ll see no complaints from me 😌

nicksmelanie THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE BAKING 😭 WHY WERE MATT AND NICK HARDLY PARTICIPATING?!

>>> ynsbaby $17 says that chris is trying to make it up to yn and nick and matt only let him help her because they’re good brothers

>>> vinniesbabygirl 17 is so specific 😭💀

>>> chrissssturn make what up to her?! i’m confused

>>> reallysturn chris apparently accused yn of cheating and it was proven that she didn’t so now people chris is in the doghouse

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•••

after filming, matt and nick ventured off to their bedrooms, leaving you alone with chris.

you weren’t too upset that they did this, feeling that now is a better time than ever to finally speak to him.

“baby—yn.” he corrected himself, not wanting to upset you anymore than he already has.

“thank you for the flowers, and the note, it was sweet.” you stood up from your spot on the couch, “i’m going to go home.”

he jumped up, “already?”

“filming is done, no?”

“yn, we need to talk.” his voice cracked at the last word, showing you just how much he needed to speak to you, “i’m tired of not being able to see you.”

“chris—“

“and i know it’s my fault, okay? i shouldn’t have accused you of something so big but you have to understand where i’m coming from.” he practically begged you to listen.

“you hurt my feelings, christopher.” you crossed your arms over your chest, “you proved to me that you have so little trust in me and our relationship over one simple photo. i have the right to be upset.”

he nodded, knowing full well that this was true.

chris’ shoulders sagged as you opened the door, his voice coming out desperate as he watched you leave, “i love you.”

you looked back, speaking up before shutting the door behind you, “i love you too, chris.”

chris.

he let of a short sigh, nodding slightly to himself.

you’re getting somewhere.

taglist: @kiera324 @strnlsblog @blahbel668 @noirpxrker @strniololoverr @sleepysturnss @leah-loves-lilies @sturniolopepsi @gigisworldsstuff @1201pm @breeloveschris @ksskianshd @shenya-chan @p1xieswrld @dancemomsfanee @whicked-hazlatwhore @stinkytinkywinky

LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH 😭💋⁉️

yall were on my ass about pt 3 so here you go 😔💋

[artemismoorea03]

DP x DC Prompt: Kindred Spirits

(aka yet another prompt where Ari accidentally writes a oneshot instead of a prompt because they get overly excited about their ideas. Inspired by the Danny Phantom episode Kindred Spirits (hence the name))

President Luthor passed a handful of laws, countless half-assed laws that sent the goverment into chaos and made a mountain of paperwork for the League. That mixed with a handful of attacks in different areas of the world that needed their attention, the fact that one of their most dangerous enemies was in charge of an entire country, and a handful of other variants they were too buried to be aware of the Anti-Ecto Law and the calls that kept getting blocked by the Government to their systems, alerting them that somebody was potentially in some kind of danger.

It wasn't until Clark and Bruce were visiting his parents in Kansas though that they realized just how much they were missing. It was a type of play-date (though they refused to tell Damian that was what this little adventure was called) which was to allow Damian a chance to play with Jon and see the animals the lived on the farm, it also gave Bruce some time away from the city after an injury required him to take two weeks off to allow his shoulder to recover.

Bruce was fine, it was Clark who was worried.

Bruce was watching the two boys play as Jon taught Damian more about milking cows as well as explaining why it was important to do such when both Jon and Clark both stopped suddenly and looked West.

After a moment Jon let out a very worried, "Dad..?"

"I hear it, Jon. You and Damian go inside and get some lunch." Clark said as Jon nodded, then practically dragged Damian away, much to Damian's complaint.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked as Clark glared west.

"Screaming, specifically a teenager. It's muffled and echoed like he's underground. Whoever is screaming is in trouble."

Bruce frowned, jogging over to his car climbing inside as he quickly began to change into his costume as Clark zipped into the house then zipped back out in costume. "Can you follow the sound?"

"As loud as it is? No problem." Superman said as Bruce pulled on his cowl.

"Good. Take us there."

Superman didn't hesitate to grab Batman's good hand as the two went into the air and flew in the direction of the sound. Batman had no idea what to expect when they arrived as they flew through the Colorado Mountains, but a mansion of a cabin with no cars out front seemingly abandoned was the last thing he expected.

At first there was no sign of anybody or anything in the area. No neighbors, no cars, no sign of a break in, not even any noise that Bruce could hear, only proving to Batman once more that Superman's hearing was nothing to take lightly.

"Where?" Batman asked as they landed.

"Directly under the house. But... it's gone quiet. Too quiet."

Batman frowned, looking at the house and the insignia on the front of it. "Vlad Masters."

"Who?"

"Vlad Masters. He's one of the names on Lex Luthor's paperwork, supplies him with some of his 'space tech' and 'energy'. His business has always been shady but it's always been 'mysterious clean' whenever we look into him." Batman said as he went to the door, using his tech to hack into the security system before they entered the house.

Animal pelts, hunting trophy's, countless other signs that it was some kind of glorious vacation home also suggested that nobody was home. The fire was cold, there was no sign of life, but there was something green on the floor near a wooden vanity that had been broken in half and recently.

Suddenly, Batman heard a low but muffled voice should from near the fireplace.

"YOU EXIST TO SERVE ME! JUST DO IT!"

Batman glared as they both ran towards the fireplace as Batman began to adjust some of the statues when the head of a Vlad bust rolled open at the forehead exposing a red button. Before he could hit the button though there was another voice, this one was clearly a young child.

"YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!"

"NO! NO!"

Batman clenched his teeth as he hit the button, the fireplace beginning to open in front of them. Suddenly there were lights on that he could see which lined the staircase. The two began to rush down the stairs, following the sounds of people talking when the young voice spoke again.

"I can do this..." The voice echoed.

"You don't have to. Cover your ears and get behind me."

Batman and Superman made it to the basement just in time to see what happened next. A man with black hair who was dressed as a vampire was approaching two children, a teenage boy and a girl closer to twelve. They both had white hair, green eyes and black and white suits. They looked like siblings, or cousins.

Regardless of their relationship the boy was in front of the girl protectively, sucking in a deep breath before an absolutely horrifying noise ripped it's way out of the boy in a wave of green. Superman immediately smacked his hands over his ears and Batman found himself doing the same thing but he didn't take his eyes off of what was happening in front of him. Machinery and tech was knocked off of the walls, the round cracked, and the vampire was thrown away from him and slammed into the far wall.

The amount of power coming from this one kid was intense and something Batman had never seen before, and judging by the look on the vampire's face it was something he hadn't been expecting from him either. Batman looked back at the boy, who seemed to be getting more pale by the second, his body shaking as tears pricked at the corner of his eyes simply from the amount of energy the ability he was using must have taken.

It wasn't until the vampire seemed to transform from it's vampire appearance to a more familiar appearance of Vlad Masters, a sight that Batman honestly didn't expect to see in such a situation but not one that exactly surprised him either. If Vlad was a meta that made some of the things that didn't make sense before a lot clearer.

Finally, the boy had no energy left as the yell - or rather the wail - cut off, dropping everything that had been thrown against the wall including Vlad. A similar white ring surrounded the teen as he seemed to transform from a white haired green eyed teen to a black haired blue eyed teen that immediately crumbled to his hands and knees. He had bruises from fighting, but the bigger concern were the bruises on his wrists that were clearly from restraints of some kind.

Was the boy the one Superman heard scream?

The young girl checked on the boy, who was shaking and looking like he was seconds away from passing out.

"Out of power... but worth it to take this place down..." He said, seeming to notice Batman and Superman with wide eyes, but the others didn't seem to spot them yet.

Vlad got up and started marching his way towards the kids, transforming back into his vampire appearance as the girl blocked the boy.

"Stay away from him!" She said, her hands glowing green as a puddle of green began to form under her feet.

"Oh, I don't think so girl, you don't dare use your powers again. Danny's beaten, this is over!"

Batman and Superman launched into action as Batman threw one of his batterangs passed Vlad's face, causing him to jump away from the teens. Vlad turned, seeming to expect somebody else but then being absolutely shocked and almost frightened when he saw who was standing in front of him.

"Superman and Batman? Here?" He growled, his hands glowing as he glanced passed them at the kids who seemed almost as frightened as he did. "I can save you both, you know? Take you away from them and keep them safe."

"Think... we're safer away from you, you absolute Fruitloop." The boy said, trying to get up just to stumble and fall again as the girl seemed ready to protect him from Superman.

Vlad laughed, "We'll see about that, Daniel. If you think I'm dangerous... imagine what they'll do with the truth." Vlad suddenly shot up into the air, flying through the ceiling.

"I've got him!" Superman said, flying up the stairs after Vlad while Batman turned to face the two kids.

"Stay back!" The girl warned, her hands glowing again as the puddle started to grow.

Batman held up his hands, taking a step back. "It's alright, nobody's going to hurt you. What's your names?"

The girl looked at the boy who seemed to be fading fast. "If you help him and don't hurt him... I'll tell you everything but if you hurt him... I'll destroy you." She warned.

Batman nodded, "I'll help him, I promise."

She relaxed, finally allowing Batman closer to the teen who looked up at him and tried to move away just to end up falling to the side instead. Batman put his hand out, supporting the teen before helping him sit up more steadily.

He looked at the bruises on the kids wrists then at the container behind him which had shackles in similar shapes and sizes to the bruises on him. Whatever this was, whatever Vlad Masters was doing, clearly surrounded this boy. That meant they had to get him out of there.

Batman carefully picked the teen up, surprised at just how light he was. Did this kid eat? He adjusted his hold on the teen who put his head against Batman's shoulder with a tired sigh as the girl grabbed Batman's cape. He gave her a soft smile before the three of them started marching up the stairs, meeting Superman at the top who sighed.

"He took off towards the North-East." Superman said as Batman nodded with a 'Hm'. "So, what are your names?"

"I'm... I'm Dani and this is Danny." The girl said.

"Two Danny's?" Superman asked, "Doesn't that confuse your parents?"

"Considering my dad is Vlad, I'm guessing not." Dani huffed.

"She's... my clone..." Danny muttered, exhausted as both Superman and Batman blinked in surprise. "But you're not allowed to hurt her. Made by Vlad or not she's my family and I'll protect her..."

"Nobody's going to hurt anybody." Batman promised, "For now we're going to get you somewhere safe and figure things out. Superman, call Flash and tell him where we are, we're going to need a pick up."

Superman nodded, reaching to grab his League Communicator as he walked away while Batman set Danny down on one of the couches.

"Okay, there you go. What did that guy mean when he implied that we were dangerous to you? What do you all think we're going to do to you?"

Dani shrugged as Danny looked at him.

"Anti-Ecto Control Act... what I am, what Plasmius is, what Dani is... we all fall under a law that says we're non-sentient. The law says that anybody with ectoplasm in our blood is to be captured, contained and destroyed. Which means that legally you should be trying to kill us... not help us."

Batman frowned, "I've heard of the law, didn't think it held ground and least of all enough ground to follow." His frown faded as he gave the kids a reassuring smile. "Plus, I'm technically a vigilante, that's hardly legal too. So, what the law doesn't know won't hurt them. Besides, you guys seem plenty sentient to me."

The two Danny's smiled before Dani let out a sniffle as she rubbed her eyes.

"I'm sorry... Danny... I'm sorry." She sobbed, hugging onto the older Danny who hugged her back.

"It's okay, Danielle... it's okay."

It wasn't okay. None of this situation was okay. But, Batman would do everything in his damn power to make sure that it was fixed as soon as possible.

[thenukacolachallenge]

In defense of the One Piece Live Action Adaptation’s stylistic choices: A Cosmetologist’s Perspective

Hello! My name is Dia, and I’ve been a licensed cosmetologist since 2015(almost a decade now!). For those unaware of what exactly that entails, cosmetology is traditionally defined as ‘the professional skill or practice of beautifying the face, hair, and skin’. For me specifically, I have worked in the fields of hairstyling/haircutting/hair coloring, skincare, nail care, and makeup application(both traditional makeup and FX makeup) in my eight years of being licensed to work in these industries.

The reason I’m making this post today is to talk about the Netflix adaptation of the hit manga/anime One Piece, and specifically to address a lot of complaints I’ve seen about the wardrobe, makeup, and hair choices of the main cast thus far. I’ve seen quite a bit in the way of complaints, and a lot of it seems to be, to put it as politely as I can, not based in reality of how makeup, hair, and acting in general works, and I’d like to address some of it to possibly explain why certain choices were made, to maybe help people come to a better understanding of the why and how of these sorts of decisions.

I’d like to also, before I dive in, note that I am not in any way, shape, or form affiliated with this production! These are merely my personal thoughts and speculation as someone with some experience in this field. None of this is set in stone unless I provide evidence from the cast and crew to back my claims up. As well, I’d like to point out that I have next to no experience working on film sets(I have worked on VERY small productions in the past, for things that go up on sites like Youtube and not Netflix lmao), but I am married to a person who has a degree in film and has worked on live production sets before, and I did defer to them for a lot of the knowledge that I lack with live action production specifically.

I’d also like to point out that while I’m not mad at anyone who has the critiques I cover in this post, I may come across as a bit exasperated. I promise this isn’t me being angry at anyone, but more of just.... I’ve seen the same critiques over and over again, and to me, a lot of the choices seem fairly obvious as to why they were made, and some of the critiques come across as extremely silly to me. This is of course due to my own background related to these sorts of things. I promise I mean no offense or disrespect to anyone saying these things! I just want to make this to be able to help others understand why production may have made the choices they did.

Now, under the cut, I’ll be discussing some common complaints I’ve heard with regards to this production, and provide some potential explanation as to why these changes were made. On to the post! It is quite hefty, so please bear with me.

~

First and foremost, the most common complaint I’ve seen thus far is some variation of the phrase “I’ve seen cosplayers that look more accurate to the characters than this show does,” and I’d like to address this one first, as I think it’s the one that probably frustrates me the most. It specifically frustrates me because comparing cosplayers to actors feels like an apples to oranges situation. The two groups are designed to do entirely different things! Cosplayers do typically look more like the characters they portray than a live action actor will, and that’s a very common occurrence, but there’s a reason for that: the two groups are not doing the same thing. 

Both cosplayers and actors put a huge amount of time and effort into their work, and I love cosplay personally. However, cosplayers are typically in their outfits for 8-10 hour days at most for a weekend, doing things like photoshoots where they have to pose, walking around conventions, and maybe filming a small amount of video(Not to say that this takes no effort! Please do not take this as such, I have helped friends with cosplays and I fully understand and appreciate the level of dedication and hard work that goes into it!). Actors, on the other hand, are in hair and makeup on set for 10-12 hours a day(if not longer) for weeks to months on end, and have to be fully in character while filming, as well as(specifically for a show like One Piece) doing things like stunt work, being submerged in water, and being on boats with lots of wind and ocean spray. There are certain things you simply cannot do, hair/makeup/costume-wise as an actor that you can as a cosplayer, so I really don’t think this comparison in specific is being very fair to the actors and the crew who are in charge of makeup, hair, and wardrobe in this case.

I’ll be getting into a lot more specifics below, but I will be deferring to my main point here very often, which is this: The safety and comfort of the actors is far more important than 1-to-1 accuracy in the way cosplayers can do, especially for minor changes in appearance.

Now that I’ve addressed that specifically, I’d like to move onto some common complaints I’ve heard for each specific main cast member, and my opinion on these complaints, as well as listing potential reasons as to why these things may have been changed!

~

We’ll start with everyone’s favorite funky little pirate king, Monkey D. Luffy:

For Luffy, the number one complaint I’ve seen is the live action’s choice in shoes. in the manga/anime, Luffy wears and fights in flip-flops, but this was changed in the live action. This was changed for a very simple reason, and Emily Rudd, the actor that portrays Nami, actually addressed this on Instagram while being asked by a fan:

Simply put, trying to do the kind of stunt work that Luffy has to do is not safe in a shoe like a flip flop. This is something that falls very completely under my original point of the comfort and safety of the actors being more important than 100% accuracy. It would be entirely too easy for Iñaki or someone he’s in a scene with to get hurt if he weren’t wearing the proper footwear. Fairly simple explanation there!

This is really the only gripe with Luffy costume-wise I could find, to be honest! I have seen a few people saying that he doesn’t have his signature undereye scar, but he does, although it’s not as visible as it is in the original work:

They kept him fairly true to the spirit of his original character, and although I don’t know why they chose to give him this specific potato shoe footwear, it is what they went with, and the main takeaway is that it was for safety reasons.

~

Onto our favorite wayward booze-loving swordsman, Roronoa Zoro:

Similarly to Luffy, I’ve only seen one main complaint regarding Zoro, and it involves his use of swords. In the anime/manga, Zoro has pioneered a specific fighting style called “Santoryu”, known in English as “Three Sword Style”: one sword in each hand, and a third in his mouth.

I’ve seen several people wondering where his third sword(the one that goes in the mouth) is from the trailers, and I was initially wondering this as well, since in most of his action scenes that have been revealed so far, he seems to only be holding either one sword or two. However, there was a brief clip(I’m talking, like, maybe one second) of him utilizing his three-swords style in the teaser trailer released in mid-June:

Now, as to potential reasons as to why this seems to be the only clip of him thus far using all three of his swords:

1. Again, this could be for the safety of the cast. Obviously being a cartoon character, Zoro wouldn’t have to worry about potential damage to his jaws and teeth, but Mackenyu, Zoro’s actor, is a real person who does have to worry about such things, especially as an actor who relies on(among other things) his facial expressions to earn a living. Carrying something like a sword, even a prop sword, in your mouth for long periods of time cannot be good for the health of your jaw and teeth, and I could understand if they chose not to film him with a sword in his mouth very often for this reason alone. 2. It could also be he uses all three swords less often so he can still deliver lines while fighting. In an SBS(”Shitsumon o Boshū Suru”, when translated means “I’m Taking Questions”, essentially an AMA for mangaka to answer questions their readers may have), Eiichiro Oda, the author of One Piece, once answered a question about how Zoro was able to talk with a sword in his mouth with quite a funny answer:

Sadly, in real life, Mackenyu cannot speak through his heart as Zoro does, so it’s possible that some of the scenes have been changed for ease of dialogue. 3. It’s also entirely possible that he uses his three-sword style as often as he does in the anime and manga, and the small amount of what we’ve seen in the trailers isn’t necessarily the full picture. I imagine this is something we’ll have to wait for the full series to drop to find out definitively one way or another!

~

Now, onto our lovely citrus-fruit-loving navigator, Nami!

I have seen two main complaints with Nami’s looks, and I’ll start with her hair, as it’s the more common one I’ve been seeing. I have seen a large number of people saying that her hair looks like(and I am slightly paraphrasing here) “a bad cosplay wig”, and honestly? I think this is just not true, and either comes from unrealistic expectations or just plain being mean-spirited.

First and foremost, this is very obviously human hair:

Now, I don’t know what kind of bad cosplays y’all have been seeing, but the ones I’ve seen start with synthetic hair wigs, not human hair ones(This is not to say synthetic wigs are inherently bad for cosplay! Simply that they are much harder to work with, though they are cheaper than human hair wigs). As well, I know for a fact Emily Rudd got her hair done similarly to this, to the point where I wasn’t actually sure that this WAS a wig at first(this picture comes directly from her Instagram account):

This is very obviously almost the exact same haircut as the wig chosen for Nami, save with more layers, and even the color choices are similar. To say that this wig looks like a “bad cosplay” is honestly just flat-out wrong in my professional opinion, and moreover, it’s quite rude. In addition, to me at least, it really looks like the wig was styled to resemble anime-esque hair, which is actually quite common among cosplayers. If anything, I have the same complaint on Nami’s wig that I also have with Sanji’s(which I’ll definitely be touching on later): it’s not thick enough. Both Nami and Sanji’s wigs just seem like they could use more hair attached to the cap in general, but especially for Nami’s, I really don’t think it’s as bad as people are saying.

I think this “bad cosplay wig” complaint specifically is mainly coming from people who only see the tail end of cosplay productions, which tends to be photos that are often times edited to look a certain way, which can often include doctoring the hair. There’s nothing wrong with a cosplayer editing their photos, for the record, but it can absolutely give unrealistic expectations to those who aren’t familiar with this practice, and I personally think this may be where these comments are coming from. Obviously you cannot photoshop every frame of a live action production, at least not without a lot of time and effort on the behalf of the post-production team, and I highly doubt Netflix would have greenlit something like that for such a small detail. It’s simply not realistic.

As well, I do find it quite interesting that I have seen far less complaints about the wigs of characters such as Zoro or Sanji(played by Taz Skylar(as stated previously, I have seen complaints about Sanji’s wig and I will be speaking on that later)) than I have about Nami’s. I’m not saying it’s outwardly misogynistic, but it does make one consider such things.

The only other complaint I’ve seen directed towards Nami’s live action look(and truth be told, I’ve seen this one far less than the comments on the hair) is the discrepancy between Emily Rudd’s eye color and Nami’s. As you can see from the above photos, Emily Rudd does not have brown eyes, which are the color of Nami’s eyes:

Now, I didn’t actually see this complaint until after the first full trailer dropped on July 21st. Specifically, I saw someone saying that it seemed strange that Steven John Ward, who portrays Dracule Mihawk in the series, is wearing colored contacts to better resemble his character, while Emily is not.

Now, there could be a lot of potential reasons for this, including that Emily may simply be not wearing colored contacts because they irritate her eyes(going back to my original point of the comfort and safety of the cast). But more importantly, I think, is that Mihawk’s unique eyes are directly related to his character, specifically through his epithet: Hawkeye. This is a seemingly important enough part of his character, to the point where it’s directly mentioned in his title. Nami has no such distinctions with her eye color, so I really don’t think it’s as important, and at the end of the day, it takes nothing away from her character to have a different eye color. So, while I don’t know the particular reason she doesn’t have brown contacts, I also don’t think it’s nearly as important for that detail to be as canonically correct as it is for Mihawk. To me, this particular comparison is another apples to oranges situation.

~

Onto our beloved liar, God Usopp himself:

Of course, the number one talking point I’ve seen about the live action Usopp is that Jacob Romero Gibson, Usopp’s actor, is missing his trademark long nose.

As One Piece fans know, one of Usopp’s characteristic traits is his tendency to lie. His name, Usopp, comes from a portmanteau of the Japanese word “uso”, which means lie, and Aesop, the famous Greek storyteller and the namesake for Aesop’s Fables. Because of his propensity towards tall tales, Usopp’s anime and manga character designs also added a reference to another character who’s known for lying, Pinocchio, whose nose grows when he lies. Thus, Usopp in his cartoon form has a long nose!

Considering how many gags in the story involve Usopp’s nose, a lot of fans were surprised to see that aspect of him not carried over into the live action. After the drop of the official trailer, seeing that the character Arlong had his signature sawshark-esque long nose in prosthetic form, there was even more confusion about this choice.

(As an aside, Arlong’s costuming choices will not be discussed in this post, as it’s long enough with just the main cast, but believe me, I do have Opinions on it lmao)

Now, as to why the show chose to not give Jacob a prosthetic long nose to better match Usopp’s appearance, I don’t know the specifics. I can only speculate, and really, the only things I could feasibly come up with are the following:

1. It’s entirely possible that for whatever reason, Jacob is unable to wear a prosthetic nose. This could be due to several things, including allergies to either the prosthetic material itself or the adhesive used to attach it, or the makeup required to blend the prosthetic into his skin. If this is the case, then it of course goes back to my main point here that the comfort of the cast takes precedence over accuracy to the source material. 2. The only other explanation that really makes sense to me is that they did in fact attempt the nose in costume fitting, and either the absurdity of it was just either too distracting to audiences/the crew/Netflix execs/possibly even Oda himself, or it could have potentially been a problem during stunt work. Usopp primarily fights with a slingshot, and I have no experience with slingshots so this is just me taking a stab in the dark, but it’s possible that the extra length on the nose could have possibly messed with the actor’s depth perception while attempting to act out Usopp’s fight scenes.

Overall, I genuinely don’t know why they decided to axe Usopp’s long nose. But at the end of the day, I know that for me specifically, this is a minor detail, and not something I see as a genuine problem, nor will it ruin the immersion for me. That being said, I can definitely understand the criticisms here. I’m hoping that a lot of these changes will eventually be answered, perhaps in some behind-the-scenes footage that comes out after the show’s release.

The only other comment on Usopp’s costuming that I’ve seen is much more easily explainable, and I also haven’t seen nearly as much in the way of commenting on it: Usopp’s hair is not in dreads in the anime and manga, and instead is kept natural, especially before the timeskip.

As we can see in the above picture, Usopp seems to keep his hair fairly natural, whereas Jacob, Usopp’s actor, sports dreads in his portrayal of Usopp, as seen in the above photo.

Luckily, I haven’t seen very many comments on this, and I think that’s a good thing, since the explanation seems fairly simple to me. Usopp in canon is based off of (mostly unused in this day and age, for good reason: a lot of the design is highly based off racist blackface caricatures) old-school anime portrayals of Black/African people. As well, in an SBS, a fan asked where the Straw Hats would be based out of if One Piece was set in the real world:

As stated above, Usopp would come from Africa! As well, if I recall correctly, Oda had a hand in casting the live action adaptation, which all points to the undeniable proof that Usopp is and has always been intended to read as Black/African in some form.

The reason I bring this all up specifically, is because of the way African hair grows. Obviously not all Black/African people are a monolith, and even among curly haired people there are different curl tightness and growth patterns, but for a large portion of people of African descent, their hair would not grow similarly to the way Usopp’s is portrayed in his cartoon form. His hair is indeed curly, but it grows down, similar to most wavy or straight hair types. This is especially evident in his post-timeskip hair growth:

Usopp’s hair, which was once above his shoulders before the two year time skip, now extends down past his shoulders. This is not necessarily inaccurate to Black/African hair types, as, since stated previously, different curl patterns and tightness exist, and even with super tight curl patterns, if grown out long enough, the hair will eventually grow down, due to the weight of the hair strands. But for a lot of Black/African hair types, the natural hair tends to grow outwards, instead of downwards(or at the very least it grows outwards before it begins to grow downwards). This type of hair is typically referred to as afro-textured hair, and is the namesake for the afro, a hairstyle wherein someone with afro-textured hair combs out their natural hair growth in the shape it naturally grows.

Now, I’m not familiar with Jacob Romero Gibson’s work prior to One Piece, and I have never seen his hair without his dreads, therefore I can’t say with 100% certainty how his hair grows naturally. However, he does have an Instagram account, and on this account he has photos of himself. I looked through his account, and although he doesn’t seem to have any photos of himself without his dreads(indeed, they seem to be his signature hairstyle) as an adult, he does have a few photos of himself from his childhood. I don’t personally feel comfortable linking his baby photos to this post, so I’m not going to do so here. However, they are visible there, and from what I can see from those photos, he does indeed have afro-textured hair. This may not be 100% accurate to how his hair grows now as an adult, as lots of things can change hair growth types and curl patterns, including things such as hormones, medications, stress levels etc. In my professional opinion, I feel fairly confident in saying that Jacob most likely has afto-textured hair, and therefore his natural hair likely wouldn’t fully grow in the exact same way that Usopp’s does. 

Overall, I only bring all of this up to say that if Jacob did have his hair in a natural, non-protective style in his portrayal of Usopp, I feel that the same people who are complaining about the dreads now would likely complain that his natural hair doesn’t match Usopp’s exactly. Either way, Usopp’s hair is not a huge characteristic that defines who he is as a character(especially not in the way that his nose is), and therefore I don’t think that him having dreads in the live action takes away from the character in any way.

~

Finally, we’ll discuss the Straw Hat crew’s first-rate cook who attacks through kicks, Black Leg Sanji:

Sanji has the unfortunate position of being the character who’s had the most changes to his design from his cartoon to the live action, and there’s a lot of criticism that’s been lobbed his way. Some of it I think is fair, but there’s also quite a bit that I think is honestly quite silly. So without further ado, I’ll go through the four main critiques I’ve seen, and my opinions of each.

Let’s start with the one I’ve heard the most often, and the one that’s easily my least favorite to hear about at this point: the missing eyebrow swirl. Maybe it’s just because Sanji is personally my favorite on the crew and I’m just paying the most attention to him, but my god, the way some people are going on about the eyebrow, you’d think the showrunners made the decision to axe his signature curly eyebrow specifically to spite the Sanji fangirls. I think a lot of the complaining about the lack of eyebrow swirl would simply be changed to complaining about how bad the eyebrow swirl would look if they’d tried to keep it, and I’ll explain why below.

Like many of the costuming changes made to the live action adaptation, I don’t know the exact reasoning as to why they decided to get rid of the eyebrow swirl. As someone who has worked as a makeup artist, however, I do have a theory as to why they got rid of it, and my theory is fairly simple: it is just not really very possible to create a realistic-looking eyebrow swirl that reads well on a film camera.

Yes, the makeup team could have very easily drawn on a swirl with a brow pencil or some pomade and called it a day. However, it would have been fairly obvious that it was in fact drawn on, especially on a film shoot. I’ve seen a lot of people complaining about the missing swirl point to both cosplayers and stage actors as “proof” that it could be done, but again, this is an apples to oranges situation. Stage makeup(like that used for stage actors), photoshoot makeup(like what cosplayers would employ), and live action film makeup are three entirely different types of makeup application, and while they each have their own merits, that doesn’t inherently mean they translate into other mediums, and this is something that you have to learn fairly early on as a makeup artist if you want to continue getting work. If you are doing makeup professionally, you have to keep a lot of things in mind, one of the biggest things being how your work will read on camera, specifically the camera your canvas will be in front of. You have to keep in mind things like flash photography, shine versus matte, whether or not post-production editing will be involved, and the like. A fairly popular example of this is makeup influencer James Charles’ old meet-and-greet photo, which has become a meme since surfacing. Charles was used to only doing makeup and being photographed a certain way, leading to him using a setting powder that didn’t lend well to flash photography, and made him look like he was wearing makeup that was far too pale for his skin tone, when in reality it was just a makeup product that didn’t work for the kind of camera it was in front of:

Another example is basically the entire Cosmo Queens video series done for Cosmopolitan magazine’s youtube page, and I’ll use Kandy Muse’s video as a specific example, since she uses her natural brows in addition to her makeup. This series focused on the makeup of drag queens, and it’s very obvious when watching these videos that there’s a huge discrepancy between makeup meant for the stage and makeup meant for other avenues. Drag queens typically are live performers, and there is a common saying among drag artists, which is to “paint(apply makeup) for the back of the house(so that even those in the back row can see your makeup)”. On stage, Kandy Muse’s makeup is quite stunning, but it’s very clear that it’s not fully meant for the editorial style that Cosmo uses during these videos:

Even from a distance, you can very clearly see where Kandy’s real eyebrows sit versus her makeup. And while this is obviously an extreme example, it’s even more obvious when zoomed in, which film cameras have to do often in order to capture the expressions of their actors:

In a similar vein, film cameras, which are typically designed to catch a lot of definition and lend better to a more realistic look, likely would not be very kind to a drawn on part of an eyebrow. Without any hair growing there naturally to make the eyebrow makeup look more realistic, it would be very obvious that it was makeup, and would likely be more distracting to audiences(especially first-timers to the series; it’s important to keep in mind that Netflix would want to cater to those people as well as long-time One Piece fans) than omitting it entirely would. In addition, we have to take into account the actor, Taz Skylar, and his natural hair growth and the direction of his brows.

As is visible from the photo, Taz Skylar’s natural brow grows downwards at the end, whereas Sanji the fictional character’s brow grows upwards into his swirl at the end. In order to match the character 1-to-1 and change his own natural features, Taz would have to either shave/pluck/wax the entire outer half of his brow(which for an actor would be extremely inconvenient for other projects and would be an absolute pain to grow back out), or he would have to sit longer in the makeup chair to have his brow covered by FX makeup, which takes extra time and effort and could throw off the timing of the entire shoot. In addition, neither of these potential fixes would necessarily make the obviously-drawn-on swirl look good and read well on film. Add on the facts that Taz’s character is fully submerged in water in at least one scene, if not more, and has several fight scenes, and it’s not even a guarantee that the makeup swirl would even last throughout the shoot.

I’ve also seen people say that they could have added the swirl in post, but I think that’s it’s very unrealistic for Netflix to greenlight that for a minor detail such as a singular visible eyebrow.

While I am very sad that they weren’t able to translate Sanji’s signature brow to the live action adaptation, I think a lot of the complaints regarding him not having it and insistence that the production should have included it are entirely overblown, and are mainly being made by people who don’t have a lot of knowledge of what goes into film makeup versus other types of makeup. And while Sanji’s brows are fairly important to his character, this fact doesn’t actually come into the story until far after the timeskip, and we don’t even know if the live action will get another season outside of this one. I really hope this can help explain why they may have made the decision to nix the brow swirl for people who are still concerned about it, since from what I’ve seen, it seems to be the number one point of contention when it comes to live-action Sanji.

Next, I’d like to speak a bit about Sanji’s hair. Now, I have some complaints of my own about the wig used on Taz, but most of the criticism I’ve seen regarding the wig actually revolves around why it doesn’t cover his eye completely, as Sanji’s hair does. This is something that seems fairly obvious to me: Taz has to do a lot of stunt work, and he needs to be able to see! This is a potential safety issue more than anything else, and therefore goes back to my main original point. As well, there’s no real way to make the hair not move without completely overloading it with product, which, again, would be very obvious on a film camera, and likely wouldn’t read nearly as well as people think.

As for me, my personal critiques around the wig are just how sparse it is. Sanji has a lot more hair than is in the wig, and I really think a wig that had a little more hair attached to the base would have looked better. As well, I don’t know if the styling of the wig works for me personally.

I was actually really hoping that the live action adaptation would take cues on Sanji’s hair from the character who Sanji was modeled after. A lot of people still to this day think that Sanji’s appearance is based off Leonardo DiCaprio, specifically his role as Jack Dawson from the hit movie Titanic or his role as Romeo from Romeo and Juliet, but Oda has actually explained in an SBS that this isn’t the case:

Sanji’s looks and his “vibes” are based off of Steve Buscemi’s character Mr. Pink in Reservoir Dogs, and personally I would have loved to see his live-action hair more closely resemble that, but sadly, it wasn’t meant to be.

Another critique of live action Sanji is that he hasn’t been depicted with his trademark cigarette, and I kind of knew that this would happen from the moment I found out about the live action adaptation. This is not the fault of Tomorrow Studios(the production company), or even Netflix at large, but instead this is largely based off backlash from anti-smoking lobbies. 

(As a former smoker myself, I have a lot of opinions on the ridiculousness of anti-smoking groups going after smoking in fictional scenarios like films and shows, but that’s a gripe for a whole other post lol) 

Netflix notably caught a lot of flack for the depiction of commonplace cigarette smoking in other series, such as Stranger Things, even though the series takes place in the 1980′s, where smoking was incredibly commonplace. The major backlash even got to the point where you can actively see the drop in depictions of smoking between each season. I am hoping they at least give Taz one scene with Sanji’s iconic cigarette, but I’m not holding my breath on this one. I doubt Netflix wants to deal with that backlash again.

Finally, the last big complaint with Sanji’s wardrobe I’ve seen is his signature suit, specifically regarding the fitting of it. Sanji’s suits in the anime/manga tend to be fairly fitted in nature, while the live action once Taz wears, while still having a slightly tapered fit, is a bit baggier than what Sanji typically wears.

This is a fairly straightforward change, in my opinion: if the suit was as form-fitting as Sanji’s are, Taz(and his potential stunt double(I don’t know if he did all of his own stunt work or not)) simply would not be able to move the way Sanji does! This is an issue of cartoon versus reality: Oda is able to depict his characters doing whatever they want in whatever clothing they want. However, real life is sadly not as accommodating, and because of that, Taz’s suit has to be a bit less form-fitting so he can still do all of Sanji’s signature footwork. Going back to my original point, the sacrifice of the fitted suit had to be made so the production could actually work.

~

I tried to touch on all the biggest differences I’ve seen people talk about, and I hope this was helpful to anyone who may have been curious as to why some of these changes were made. Please let me know if I missed anything big or if you have any additional questions/need me to explain anything further, I love what I do and I love being able to have insight like this. Thank you so much if you’ve read this far, and please reblog if you found this post helpful or informative <3

[squirrelwithatophat]

Anders and the Blooming Rose

It’s a fairly minor part of his character, but I find it hilarious that Anders, "The Healer” of Darktown, really does not like the local brothel.  If you take him with you while purchasing “services” from Madame Lusine, you get this reaction...

“You’re not this desperate, I hope.  I treat a lot of these customers in my clinic.”

Then if you ignore the warning and do it anyways (you know, because Hawke)…

Anders: rivalry +5

It’s not a moral condemnation, a complaint about wasting time (à la Beth or Carver), or a vague expression of disgust (of the sort Fenris or Merrill reply with) — Anders, the closest in-universe equivalent to a doctor, is warning the player-character away from soliciting prostitutes on health grounds.

One interesting aspect of Dragon Age II is that it contains many more specific references to disease — which makes sense, given the medieval urban setting, where the top causes of mortality would realistically be infectious disease.  Gamlen explicitly refers to his parents dying of “cholera,” a highly lethal (even today, untreated cholera has a case fatality rate of up to 50%) water-borne illness, and the water supply in Lowtown is described as dangerously contaminated (Hawke can refuse to drink it “even on a dare,” Merrill refers to something “twitching” in the water even after boiling it).  A random NPC asking Lirene about “The Healer” complains, “I can't get my brother off the boat. The grippe's [i.e., the flu] got him bad.” Then there are the multiple references to unspecified STIs, all of which come from (or at least are associated with) Anders.

There’s an amusing line from Anders upon entering the Blooming Rose for the first time (usually but not necessarily during Enemies Among Us in Act 1):

“If someone tries to hire me again, I’m leaving.”

Now, some fans seem to read this as a claim that the Blooming Rose has tried to hire him as a sex worker, but I believe there’s a more plausible interpretation here. (Frankly, I have difficulty imagining that a brothel would be obsessed to the point of harassment with recruiting as their newest rent boy a man in his mid-30’s — and one who, need I remind you, lives in a mine shaft connected to a sewer and notorious for its toxic fumes, dumping of rotting corpses, and disease outbreaks. And no offense to any Andersmancer reading this, but is he really that good-looking?).

Most likely, the brothel is looking to hire an in-house physician (or Thedosian equivalent). Anders is referred to curing STIs and providing other reproductive care. In introducing him, Lirene says, “He's closed their wounds, delivered their children.” One of patients in her shop can be heard crying out, “My mother's in labor! The baby's come early. Can anyone help her?” To which Lirene replies, “I'll send word to the healer.” (Anders may have been delivering babies back in the Circle as well, considering that in MoTA, he says, “At the Circle, any accidental babies are taken away before the mother even sees them.” This could, however, simply be common knowledge among Circle mages). It’s also implied by Wynne that Circle mages practice contraception: “Such births [in the Circle] are seldom, as there are ways to prevent it, but it does happen.” Moreover, Anders appears to be the only person in Kirkwall willing and able to provide these medical services. There are references to useless quacks (e.g., “some purveyor of hensbane and leeches”), but it’s acknowledged in-universe that the only effective healing comes from mages. In DAI, the Inquisitor can express surprise at the presence of a “mundane” (non-mage) surgeon, who goes on to insist that such non-magical methods will be developed in the future, all of which further reinforces the (in-universe) social/cultural equation of healer as mage. Mage healers only appear to be let out of the Circle on rare occasions to treat members of the nobility, but ordinary people don’t receive such consideration. Even the viscount’s seneschal has to seek out Anders for help. In DAI, Cullen casually moons the idea of “healers’ clinics with templar support” (among other potential “opportunities to work outside the Circle”) as a totally novel solution to mage “resentment” over confinement. The Chantry thus far wasn’t willing to release mages to treat sick commoners even with phylacteries to deter escapes and Templar overseers breathing down their necks the entire time; in fact, they were rather reluctant to let out even a handful of senior mages to fight alongside the king against the Blight, something which threatened everyone’s lives fairly equally (and even then couldn’t resist the temptation to make the mages feel as unwelcome as possible). “The Healer of Darktown” was well-known to illicitly (that is, in defiance of Chantry restrictions) provide health care for free to the masses, and this service not surprisingly had earned him quite the number of admirers and defenders. Lirene resists being threatened for information about him by saying, “Any Fereldan in the city would lay down his life for the healer, after what he's done for us,” and a mob of Ferelden refugees even prepare to attack the heavily-armed party out of fear that the latter might harm him or report him to the Templars.  His Act 2 Codex likewise reads: “When not with the Champion, he spends his time among the Fereldan refugees in Darktown, healing their ills and counting on their loyalty to protect him from curious templars.” Should it be a surprise then that a private business might be interested in his skills, especially when disease is threatening their bottom line and injuring customers?  

In the game, we actually see two frequent patrons of the Blooming Rose end up in Anders’s clinic for treatment.

Dissent (Act 2), if Isabela has been left behind:

Anders: ...don't come running to me next time you pick up one of these diseases.

Isabela: Isn't that the point of magic?

Hawke: I don't want to know.

Dissent (Act 2), if Isabela is in the party:

Seneschal Bran: And that will, ah, stop the itch?

Anders: Yes. Though I would stay away from women you meet in the port. Pirates tend to... dock in unsavory places.

Isabela: I heard that!

Anders: Just use the salve if it comes back.

This is probably also what Isabela is referring to in the opening to Speak to Fenris (Act 2):

Isabela: So the seneschal's tax collector won't be coming around again, like you asked. Funny story.

Fenris: I'll pass, but thank you for the help.

Isabela: Spoilsport.

Seneschal Bran appears to be a regular with a particular fondness for Serendipity, a drag queen (or transfemme?) and one of the highest-paid workers at the Blooming Rose, whose gender nonconformity is generally Played for Laughs.  Bran can be seen on a “date” with her at Duke Prosper’s party during Mark of the Assassin, and Serendipity can later be heard commenting, “I haven't seen the seneschal much lately. Don't tell me the man's gone religious” (to which someone responds, “No, he just keeps terrible hours now”).

Isabela, of course, talks about sex and her enjoyment of brothels (including the Blooming Rose) quite frequently.  In Dragon Age Origins, we meet her dueling two men at The Pearl (Denerim’s main brothel), and she can (in)famously be talked into a threesome or foursome with the Warden and their LI, although in that game it was unclear whether she was hiring prostitutes or simply ended up there in the course of searching for dueling partners (given that the building had been occupied by mercenaries, and one of the optional quests in Denerim is to clear The Pearl of disruptive mercenaries on behalf of the city guard) or following/checking on her crewmen. In DA2, it is confirmed that she was going to The Pearl for sex, and Anders remarks, “You used to really like that girl with the griffon tattoos, right?” to which Isabela replies with the name “The Lay Warden.”

(For now, I’ll just ignore the unfortunate implications of Bioware depicting a promiscuous black woman repeatedly contracting STIs and unrepentantly spreading them to white men for blackmail purposes.  But yeah, yikes).  

Historically, the emergence of STIs as a major social problem has been associated with urbanization and military mobilizations — basically, situations in which large numbers of individuals had opportunities for unprotected sex, especially with multiple partners, away from the usual social control mechanisms such as cockblocking parents (and virtually all sex was unprotected until latex condoms began to be mass-produced in the 1920s-30s). Without the safety measures we have in place in licensed brothels today (e.g., condom requirements, regular STI testing), brothels and red light districts were superspreader bonanzas, and perhaps unsurprisingly, medical professionals tended to take a rather dim view of them, to put it mildly. Modern readers often historical interpret opposition to brothels and camp followers (in the military) on the part of medical and public health authorities as expressions of prudery, religious conservatism, and/or misogyny, and to be frank, they very often were. Yet at the same time, in the pre-condom and pre-antibiotic era, STIs represented a major public health burden and cause of disability, disfigurement, infertility, and premature death, and there few practical measures beyond simply urging everyone to keep their pants on (which worked about as well as one might expect).

Circling back to Anders, it's notable that he takes a much more negative view of sex in the second game than in Awakening, during which he seemed eager to hump anything that moved. This could at least in part reflect the influence of Justice, who seems to regard anything other than fighting for justice and engaging in public service to be "selfish" and even slothful (as in demon-y sloth). Or simple aging and maturity. Or, on a meta level, it could be an odd re-characterization due to the change in writer. But I like to think that his newfound discomfort with no-strings-attached boning is an unfortunate side effect of being a charity doctor working into the late hours to accommodate an endless stream of dick wart patients. It's already a shame that his clinic and service for the poor is relegated to such a background element, especially given the role such work would realistically play in forming a person's character. In terms of character development, it would have been interesting to explore how his work in the clinic could itself had a radicalizing effect — after all, it would bring him face-to-face with the tragic consequences of Chantry policy on mundanes (rather than just mages) as well as demonstrate magic’s contribution to the greater good on a daily basis. But this angle unfortunately never comes up in-universe.

TL;DR What I'm actually saying is that the real tragedy of Anders's character arc is the profound decrease in sluttiness between the two games.

[doberbutts]

I typed this whole thing up but they re-blocked me after they posted another rant on another one of my posts so;

That is absolutely not everything you said, and you know it.

You did start it with Avi, whether you believe it counts or not. You posted several multi-paragraph posts mentioning him directly by name. Even if you don't tag someone, they can still see it in their name tag if they search their name through tumblr's search function. Yes, even if you block them. Yes, even if they've blocked you. I can say that for certain because there are people in my name tag right now who I know for sure I have blocked and I also can still see when they talk about me if they put my username in their post.

He found your posts about him through this, not by circumventing your block but because he can see when you type out his username in your posts. So there is no "he went around my block to see it" because he wasn't even aware there was beef between you until after he found your posts about him- he's stated a few times that he used to be mutuals with you and didn't even realize you'd blocked him until recently. You did start it. And he was, understandably, upset about it, and posted about it on his blog.

Additionally, some of the things you've said regarding him- and Israeli Jews in general- are pretty antisemitic. It is not antisemitic to call out the atrocities and genocide that Israel is performing on Palestine- something Avi himself has said over and over again. However, there are people who are using antisemitic language or using the conflict as an excuse to be antisemitic, and that is where his problem is. Just as he also posted calling for justice for those affected by anti-arab and Islamophobic violence stemming from conflict.

And it's not like that's not true, that people are being antisemitic and using this conflict as an excuse, or even that people are being antisemitic to him and using this conflict as an excuse. He's gotten plenty of harassment coming from people straightup lying about him to justify it, and has posted it on his blog for others to see, so it's not like he's making it up. He also has posted about what he's doing within his local community, mourning with those who have lost loved ones, and how to provide aid to those trapped in Gaza. He's posted critiquing both the Israeli and the US government.

What more exactly do you want from him here? And why does he have to be A Good Jew in order to have his complaint of antisemitism be heard? Because you've decided he's white, when historically even "white" European Jews were not considered white by antisemitic governments? Didn't we just have a black celebrity get in trouble for saying exactly that? Because you've decided he's white, when more accurately he's multi-ethnic regarding one side of his family being entirely comprised of non-white Jews and the other side still not Ashkenazi, which he's publicly posted about? Because you've decided he's white, when whiteness and Judaism has always been a fraught conversation?

Certainly you understand that equating a population to the very same people that want to exterminate them and have tried before with relative success is always going to be an incendiary topic, and that the people you accuse of doing this are going to be upset when they see it?

I'm not lying for anyone, and besides my white Jewish bestie is a woman. I'm not his trained monkey though, since that seems to be the implication. I just think your behavior is poor and I think you do a lot of inflammatory blogging, which is why I didn't often reblog from you in the first place.

I am, though, sort of wondering why you are so focused on this one specific Jewish guy who has stated over and over again that he wants peace in the region and he wants the innocents living there to stop being killed. Is it because he said he doesn't want the Jewish people who want peace currently living there to be expelled? A lot of Palestinians don't want that either. And I think it's weird to be harassing a Jewish guy who has repeatedly said he wants peace, just because he wants peace in a way you personally find unsatisfying.

[zoe-oneesama]

Speaking of Frightningale, what do you think of the episode?

It's a filler episode, but I liked it. There's not that much I would change about it.

I liked the akuma and it was only a matter of time before we had a dance themed akuma (Yes I've heard the knock off Harley Quinn jokes and yes I agree with them, but I don't consider that a bad thing). Clara's reason for being akumatized feels real and Chloe's in top form. The teamwork between Ladybug and Chat Noir in defeating Frightningale is adorable and fun to watch.

There's only three things that stand out to me in a "negative" way, but they don't really take away from the episode:

The "lesson" in this episode for Marinette was about protecting her identity - she willingly took the role of Ladybug when it was about to be given to Chloe and by giving into her anger, she almost put her identity at risk. I did like her giving up the role initially to both be responsible with her identity AND to not ditch her friends, so it was satisfying that Tikki praised her for not "giving into temptation" and for friends to praise her for giving up dancing with Adrien just to stay with them. And even when she takes that back just because she can't stand the idea of Chloe representing "her" in any way, I can't blame her and don't think that should take away from the praise she got.

But this does bring up two of my "negative" things.

First, Marinette is the focus of the identity problems, but Adrien is in the same boat - the only difference is that Adrien didn't take this job willingly. But that's where I think they could've done something better - they could've made Adrien fight back harder. Adrien not standing up for himself or his friends, not fighting back for things he wants to do - this at least makes sense as he could see it as selfish, which he doesn't want his father to see him as.

But his identity should be something that he protects above everything else, not just to his dad but to the general public. It's not selfish, it's about the greater good. He should be arguing up front and when he can't come up with a good "reason", he should be sabotaging himself - hide the mask, sure, but also pretend he can't follow choreography or that he can't act like Chat Noir - just doing more.

They made Marinette choosing to take the Ladybug role a problem when Adrien was in the exact same spot as her.

(They didn't harp on it much so it's really not THAT big a deal. I just think they could've sacrificed some of the akuma time to show a different side of Adrien).

Second, and this is only a problem in hindsight, is this episode makes "Chameleon" and subsequent episodes like it more infuriating. Here we had open character acknowledgment of Marinette putting aside an opportunity with Adrien JUST so she could stay with her friends. Twice she is hugged by her whole girl entourage for expressing how she loves them and has the most fun with them.

Yet no one will even listen to her when it comes to Lila because she's "jealous", okay.

And then my last complaint is with Chloe, or more specifically, the scene of her threatening to call her mom.

My problem with it is that it's just not in character with Audrey at all. This was the first time Chloe's mom was directly mentioned and it's Chloe threatening to call her mother to complain to her about how Chloe's "dreams were shattered" because Andre wouldn't cancel the music video shoot outright, followed by Andre grabbing the phone, insisting they not bother their "queen", and that he'll figure something out.

Based off just this? Wouldn't one assume Audrey is like Andre but worse? Indulging Chloe's whims, coming down hard on any who stand in her daughter's way, and probably coming down harder on Andre for not taking care of things in the first place.

More realistically Audrey wouldn't even answer the phone.

It's just a confusing scene in hindsight. The Audrey WE meet doesn't even remember Chloe's name, she certainly wouldn't care about whether or not she's the lead role in a music video. At most she'd be annoyed to be interrupted from whatever SHE thinks is more important, so again, she probably wouldn't even answer the phone.

So it's not bad, it's just...weird.

[vidjausers-fable]

Pen Pals(Veneer X OC)Chapter 1

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Oh my god, I fell in love with Veneer and Velvet the moment I heard their silly little quotes and songs. I also have fun drawing them!? Anyway, this story is completely for fun, though it’s been a while since I’ve last written a fanfiction. Nothing is beta read in this chapter, so be kind if pointing out mistakes. Below is something I drew specifically for this fiction (though obviously it was inspired by the Barbie and Ken meme)

Also located on Wattpad and AO3. Chapter 2 and 3 are already located there, but soon will be here as well.

Once they had been arrested, Veneer and Velvet were booked and thrown into prison immediately. Well, it was more of a correctional facility if anything. A place where they wanted to prepare young adults who had made stupid mistakes for the outside world. Velvet didn’t take the change well but Veneer made no complaints, believing that it was the right thing to do because of the crimes they had committed. All those Trolls they had hurt…It weighed on him more than it did his sister. Velvet received a harsher sentence compared to her brother. Veneer’s was smaller because his heartfelt confession helped save the Trolls from his sister and expose their scam right away. 

However, the two shared a cell in the correctional facility due to a bit of a crowding issue. Their rooms were split in two, one side for Veneer and the other for Velvet. It wasn’t the ideal living situation, but Velvet was the only one complaining about it. 

The siblings looked completely different than what they used to. With no access to makeup in the facility, their faces were blank and deprived of any makeup and creams, and both adored the orange jumpsuits that read “Mount Rageous Correctional Facility” on the back. Velvet complained about her looks and image on the daily, as if it had not already been diminished. 

Veneer sat at his desk with one of the books checked out from the Library, trying to somehow read and drown out the voice of his sister whining in the background. It was hard to do both at the same time so he closed the book with a loud sigh, “What is it this time, Vel?” he asked and spun around in his chair to look at his sister. 

Velvet was half laying on the bed, her knees hanging over the edge. She threw her hands up and around dramatically as she spoke, “This isn’t fair! They took away another hour of my rec time from me just because I wanted an extra five minutes to eat. Didn’t I tell them I’m a slow eater?” She kicked her feet around as if she were a child having a tantrum.

Veneer leaned against his palm, unimpressed. As always. “And how did you ask for this extra five minutes?”

His sister glared. Did he Really ask her that as if she had done something wrong? “I asked, like a normal person! DUH!” she retorted sarcastically, throwing her hands up. 

Veneer rolled his eyes. He seriously doubted that, but he wouldn’t say that out loud. “Maybe…just maybe Vel, you should ask a bit nicer,” he suggested and added before she could interrupt, “Unfortunately, the people here don’t like to deal with our attitudes.”

“Me? An attitude! As if! This place is worse than a shoe store with no branding,” she groaned. “And a restaurant without lobster.”

Veneer gave up talking to his sister and turned back toward his desk. There was no use arguing with Velvet. She was an entitled brat. She always tried to get the last word in, and it was impossible to point out her mistakes, or her flaws. In her eyes, she was flawless and never did wrong, and only did right. He’d dealt with that entitled attitude his whole life, and that attitude was the reason that he was in the correctional facility right now. It was honestly pathetic, but there was nothing that he could do about it except not give in to her tantrums and ignore them when they arose. Of course, it was easier said than done. She practically threw a rich snobby princess tantrum every day. “Why don’t you back me up anymore, like you used to?” Velvet abruptly sneered. Veneer could already see her expression without turning back around.  

“Veneer, don’t ignore me.”

Over time, Veneer had found ways to stand up for himself. It was easier when they weren’t next to each other, but also because he was over her and her dramatic antics. 

“Because.” Veneer closed the book he was trying to read, “It’s your fault we got into this whole situation in the first place.” He had to resist the urge to turn around and throw the book directly at her head.

“You didn’t exactly stop me when I kidnapped the Troll.”

“Because I couldn’t Velvet!” He argued, finally turning to her, “You took the Troll without even telling me at first. You put him in a diamond perfume bottle without a word. I knew it was suspicious when I suddenly caught you singing one day, or remotely have any talent. I bet if I didn’t walk in on you in your room that day with the Troll, that you would have kept all of that stolen talent yourself and left me at home with our parents, which by the way, I CARE about the fact that they disowned us. They get death threats because we scammed everyone, and can’t practice their dentistry anymore. They sold their business to pay off our debts, and you think they hate us? I know you hated them, but do you honestly think that they deserved all of that?” The entire ramble left him in a single mouthful it felt, leaving his sister appalled. He had so much to say to her that his words tumbled out almost all at once.

Velvet gasped, her jaw wide open and a hand over her heart, as if he tried to strike it. “They deserved it, Veneer, for the way they treated us growing up! They were nobodies and didn’t give us anything.”

“How did they treat us, Vel?! They literally did nothing wrong our entire lives! We had everything we wanted! You got a car for your sixteenth birthday and you pawned it off to buy a stupid golden ring! You don’t even have it anymore, you threw it down the drain when we became total frauds and got more money, which you used to buy worthless junk. Our parents are saints compared to how you talk about them.”

“Are you saying this is all my fault?”

“It is, Vel. It’s your fault we’re in here because of you. And I won’t change my mind about that.” He turned his back to her once again. Ever since they had been arrested, it had been nothing but anger between the siblings, bubbling over the tea kettle. Veneer swore that his steam was running out fast around her. 

“It’s your fault too! You used the Troll as much as I did!”

Veneer ignored her. 

“Veneer, you can’t throw all the blame at me!”

Veneer ignored her again, at least until he heard her stand up and stomp toward him. Right as he flipped around, she grabbed the front of his orange jumpsuit and began to shake him. She bared her teeth in anger at him, shaking him until his neck popped, “You can’t throw all the blame on me, Veneer! That’s just not fair. You used the Trolls just as much as me, so you’re not a perfect saint. Neither were our parents. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?!”

Metal clanged on metal and the siblings turned around to face the door of the cell. One of the Correctional Guards stood at the door, his baton against the cell bars, clinging back and forth until he had their attention. He glared at the two, though mostly at Velvet—the universal trouble maker. “Behave yourself Velvet, and stop arguing. That or I can extend your banishment from the rec room to the whole week. You wouldn’t want that would you?”

Velvet, still holding onto her brother’s shirt, glared at the officer, debating in her head if this was still worth it. If fighting her brother was worth the only freedom that they got in that joint. The two shared a long eye contact battle before she gave in, letting her brother go after shoving him back into the chair, and returned to her bed. “Whatever,” she snapped before rolling onto her side with her back facing the two. 

Veneer adjusted his shirt before looking at the guard, a bit frazzled and his heart racing. Even she got to him sometimes. “Whew…” Saved by the guard.

The guard watched Velvet and when he felt as though she was calm enough, looked to Veneer, the one he really wanted to talk to. He took out his keys from his side pocket and the clanging of the metal made the two perk up. “Veneer, your counselor wants to see you now.”

Velvet immediately interrupted, sitting up, “What about mine? Doesn’t she want to see me?”

“She would, if you would stop destroying her office at every appointment.” He stopped fiddling with the keys and glared at the sister, waiting for her to settle down again. He looked to Veneer and waited for him to approach the bars, as part of the protocol for entering and leaving the cells. 

“What for?” Veneer asked, approaching the cell door. “It’s not time for my appointment, is it? I don’t think it would be…” He sounded panicked. 

The guard opened the door. Veneer was required to step out and press his back to the wall with his arms out and palms faced down. Veneer was a low threat so only one guard was needed, though at some point Velvet needed four. He quickly locked the door because as expected, Velvet threw herself against the door and grabbed the bars in rage and growled. She even reached down to try and swipe the keys as they were shoved back into a secure pocket. The guard scoffed in her face and turned to Veneer, patting him down. The guard took his shoulder and pulled him in front of him, letting him walk where he could see him. 

Patting Veneer’s shoulder, he chuckled, “We really need to get you your own cell, buddy boy. Your sister gives me an ulcer everytime I open her cage. She’s like a dog who’s had everything handed to him, but still darts out the damn door whenever it opens.”

Veneer chuckled nervously, “Yeah…Uh, do you know why my counselor wants to see me? I didn’t do anything bad, did I?” He tried not to panic or ruminate like he used to. Besides, nothing he did was as bad as his sister…Though he honestly still felt as though he was a kid again, being sent to the principal's office, just multiplied by ten and with more consequences.

“I dunno, they don’t tell me anything. She didn’t seem mad, if that makes you feel any better.”

“I think it does.”

Veneer fidgeted his hands on the walk to his counselor’s office, guided by the guard. The guard opened the door and only shut it once Veneer sat across from his counselor. His counselor was a middle-aged blonde Mount Rageous person. She was prim and proper, and despite her strict posture and formalities of speech, she was a caring woman with bright blonde hair and honey amber eyes. Her office space matched the same atmosphere of her person. Everything was neatly arranged. There was a funky splash of red paint on the wall, pictures of cute animals under cheesy motivational quotes. There were also nick nacks scattered across the room. One of them was one of those solar powered bobble heads dancing along to no beat, sitting across from Veneer with a playful catty smile.

Linda greeted him with a warm smile. Veneer was still getting used to having someone like Linda to talk to. She always listened and never interrupted him, like his sister did. 

“Dr. Graham…Uh, why am I here?” he asked and the emotions immediately flooded in, trapped within from where he had been dealing with his sister all day. He sunk down into his chair, trying to hide, “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

Linda gasped and reached across the table. She knew that Veneer wasn’t a touchy-feely person, so she touched the desk right in front of him instead. “No, no, no, dear! Actually, I have something exciting to share with you.” She waited for Veneer to slide back up into his chair and sit properly.

“What…is it?” Veneer asked hesitantly. He expectedly leaned forward.

Linda bounced, her own excitement showing as she pulled out a folder from her file cabinet. Everything was so perfectly organized that it took no time for her to find anything. “Since our system runs on good behavior, and you’ve been on your best behavior—might I say even better than those who have been here for years—we decided to give you a huge reward. Now, we don’t just give these away to every patient here!” Her hand was on a document, which she pushed across the desk then flipped it so it faced him. 

Before him was a blank tan file cabinet folder. 

Veneer’s eyebrow raised. “What’s in that?”

“You won’t know until you open it. Go on!” She pulled her hands back and clapped as Veneer reached for the folder. He picked it up and opened it to the first page. He read it and frowned. 

Before he could get words out, Linda cheered and clapped her hands some more, “It’s our Pen Pal Program! We like to give these out to our top most behaved patients here. We were quite surprised to see how well you turned out, and how quick and well mannered you were, so don’t take this reward lightly!” She said and took the document back, flipping through the pages, explaining every single one of them until Veneer’s eyes couldn’t keep up with his brain. 

“Wait, wait…So I earned this?” he asked and put his hands on the papers, taking them when Linda let go of them. “What do I do with this? How does it work?”

“It’s easy!” Linda began to explain, “You fill out these forms and I scan and put it into the system. After a bit of Beep Booping on the keyboard, the system finds a pen pal that will be suitable for you! The system is surprisingly 95 percent accurate. When a Pen Pal is assigned to you, you receive their first letter and then write a response to them. After that, you basically send letters back and forth to each other. It’s very old school and the only part that technically plays a role is to keep your documents up to hand and sort out who your Pen Pal is!” 

Veneer was distracted by the exaggerated hand gestures Linda made as she talked. He shrugged it off and began to flip through the papers, looking at them carefully to make a decision. Having someone new and different to talk to sounded…different.

“If you fill this out right now while I still have you in my office, I should get everything uploaded and submitted within a couple hours.” Her fingers clacked loudly against the keyboard. Then she looked to Veneer and gave him one of her trusting, and warm smiles. “Is that something you’re interested in, Veneer?”

After looking through the last of the papers, Veneer took a second to think it over in his head. It would be nice to have conversations with someone from the outside world, considering he no longer had his parents. For once, he wouldn’t have a conversation centered around how did you get here? How did you get busted? Best of all, he could have someone to communicate with that wasn’t his sister. That was the icing on the cake. That’s what stood out to him the most. 

Placing the papers back down on the desk, he looked to Linda with a determined expression. He held out a hand to her, brows knitting together. “Pen, please.”

“That’s it! YAY!” Linda took out a pen from the pen box that was organized by type of pen, colors, and probably even ink levels. Veneer took the pen and began to read everything meticulously and filled out blanks while he glanced over the paper. Linda was quiet, but played calming and relaxing music that she knew Veneer liked to help him focus. 

The paperwork didn’t take long, and he finished it in less than thirty minutes. “Can you look it over and make sure I didn’t forget anything?” he asked, sounding timid as he handed the papers over. 

Linda took the papers and flicked through the pages at lightning speed. A smile crossed her lips. “It’s perfect, I’ll get everything ready for you and you should get your Pen Pal within a week or two.” She looked at the watch on her wrist. “Woo, look at the time. You have to get back to the cell for quiet time. Your favorite time!” She clasped her hands together. “Veneer, I’m so proud of the growth you’ve gone through these past months. You must have been eager for change before you walked through our doors.”

Veneer blushed at the compliments and rubbed the back of his neck. She wasn’t necessarily wrong. “I’m not used to all these compliments…I don’t think I deserve all this praise.”

Linda shook her head and placed her hand back on Veneer’s spot on the desk, giving him a soft and understanding smile. “Just because your sister made you fight for affections, and do terrible things, doesn’t mean you’re less deserving of love. Remember what we talked about, okay?” She leaned back in her chair. “Also, Veneer?”

“Yeah?”

“I received your report for transferring rooms and approved it,” she answered, watching as Veneer became brighter every second. “We just have to wait for a room to become available, alright? You’re next on the list, I promise.” She nodded her head. 

Veneer was disappointed knowing that he had to wait a bit longer, but nonetheless was happy that there was at least one person fighting for him. He nodded his head, determined before standing. “Thank you, Dr. Graham. For everything.” He felt appreciative of the woman, who had gone out of his way to help him become a better person.

A different guard stood outside when Veneer came out of the room, and nodded to the male. Walking in front of him again, he walked all the way back to his room. He felt an anxious pit in his stomach, knowing his sister was there waiting for him and already heard her voice hounding him to tell her everything he discussed with Linda, as she always did. And he didn’t want to do that. Sure enough, his sister was waiting for him with her hands on the bars, and once again the guards had to fight simply to keep Velvet within her cell. It was the same thing everyday, and maybe this Pen Pal program would help change things.  

Veneer was tired of this life. 

[hymn-of-muse]

Not My Flower.

a Yasha x Reader requested by @botanicalbard

"tell me, bard. you've been seen with the nein quite often, you're familiar with them, yes? tell me all you know of them." a man demanded in a low tone, face obscured by shadow in the dimly lit room.

you'd left the tavern after you and your friends had a few drinks, all you wanted was a bit of fresh air as the ale started to take affect on you. you we not expecting, however, to be grabbed from behind and dragged into the alleyway next to the tavern, a hand silencing you and arms holding you firm so you couldnt run away.

the next thing you knew, you found yourself in a small room, windows covered up and the lighting too dim to make out any doorway outline, unless it was behind where you sat on a stool, ankles restrained and hands tied at the wrist around the support beam you were leaning against.

a man, clearly trying to intimidate you into talking about your friends weaknesses and secrets, stood over you with his arms crossed. you could hear someone in the corner shift, so you knew it wasnt just him here.

"i'll ask you again-"

"no i heard you" you interrupted "im just not sure what it is specifically you want to know, i mean theyre a lovely bunch, sure, but you cant just be so vague, do you want me to give you an introduction for each individual? i can do that in song!" you told him smugly

"what?" he gave a confused look upon your sudden compliance "no-no, no songs, just tell me-"

"are you sure? i got a really good one! oh! or i could sing you a tale of the mighty nein's greatest adventures thus far! what a brave and interesting party of beings they are, like this one time-"

"stop that!" the man snapped, agitated by your interruptions and clear attempt at stalling him for more time. "enough of your games, bard, just tell me what i ask of you and nothing more. if you comply, we'll consider letting you go unharmed. got it?"

"come on, you went through all this effort and all you want is a little information? why not a whole story, huh? not even one song? all you want is small talk? thats so boooring" you groaned, putting emphasis on the 'o' in boring.

the man gave a grunt of frustration as he grabbed hold of your shirt collar and got all threatening in your face. "shut up! just tell me each of their weaknesses, secrets, some information i can ACTUALLY use!"

"one, ew your breath smells. two, nah thats lame. besides, by now they likely know im gone and will come looking for me. you made a huge mistake thinking i was a good kidnapping choice." you chuckled, still smug as ever.

"yeah? what makes you so sure they'll find you?" he grumbled.

"because the barbarian's my girlfriend, and she can get really physical when shes angry"

"heh, you think youre safe? youre not going anywhere till i get something outta you" he glared, raising a fist to throw a punch just when the door swung open with a crash, breaking it off its hinges.

in the doorway now stood yasha after she'd kicked in the door, the light outside illuminating the room and as she stepped in with heavy foot falls, the anger on her face was clear as day. she gave an icy cold glare to the man who's fish was frozen in the air.

"how did you..?" the other person in the corner finally spoke up with a weak voice.

"your neighbors made a noise complaint" yasha stated, storming closer to the man who threatened you a minute before as he stumbled back and reached for a weapon to defend himself with.

when he tried to swing a club at her, she grabbed it and tore it out of his hands, tossing it to the side and grabbing him by the arm. she swung him around and threw him into the other person, knocking them both out on impact when the hit the wall.

"are you hurt?" yasha asked you as she quickly moved to undo your restraints, a gentle hand moving to the side of your face to make sure you were alright. the look of concern on her face said everything.

"i knew you'd find me" you smiled sweetly at her, leaning your head into her warm hand as her shoulders dropped in relief.

"of course i did. i wouldnt let anyone hurt you." she spoke with a light chuckle to her voice, hoisting you into her arms and walking out of the room as she carried you. "not my flower."

reblogs are appreciated! im sorry this took a while to get done! /g

[ijustwantogohomehogwarts]

The Adventures of Lee and Gracie - BONES AND ALL : part 1

The Adventures of Lee and Gracie - BONES AND ALL : part 1

Warnings and such: mentions of bl00d, !death, death of family member, alcohol/drunkenness ,illusions to caññabilism...i think that's it for this part?

A/N: you can't tell me Timothée doesn't radiate this kind of chaotic energy 24/7! He was absolutely perfect for this movie! Thank you for coming to my TedTalk!

---------------------------------------------------------------------

My mother was what she called an “eater,” because I guess calling her a cannibal was wrong. There was a difference, apparently, of which the latter she was not. You could have fooled me. I’ve known for a while, probably my whole life, but to me, that was normal. Normal for her anyway. I had never met another “eater,” at least not that I knew of, but would I know if I had anyway? 

She never partook in the activity in the house, but more often than not she came home before she was ready to, covered in blood. Admittedly, it freaked me out to realize how quickly that stopped bothering me…but of course, not as much as discovering what she was doing a few times a month. What bothered me the most is that she came home, cleaned herself up, and carried on with life as if nothing happened. As I got older, I became more wary of her, something that I think she picked up on all too quickly. It drove a wedge in our once perfect relationship, but I wouldn’t consider it a loss.

The idea toyed in her head, for a while- she thought I was a “late bloomer” or that I just needed to “find the feeling,” but whatever it was that caused her to be this way, it must not have been passed along to me. If that’s how someone became an “eater.” It made me wonder where it all started, but then again, maybe I don’t want to know. All I do know is that she left when I was 18, and I hadn’t seen or heard from her since. My dad was long gone and I had no siblings. Maybe my dad knew, and maybe I wasn’t even supposed to happen…oh well, no sense in dreading about it now. I had no complaints. No regrets.

I knew the signs of an eater, or at least the ones that made my mother stand out in a crowd, but I still wasn’t sure if I would be able to pick one out of a line up unless they had blood all over their face. I resolved to just be by myself, to always watch my back and never put a lot of trust in anyone. It was all easy, really. I wasn’t allowed to have friends as a child, understandably so, and because of that I was fine to be by myself. I didn’t know any different.

As my 20th birthday approached, the body of a woman surfaced near the lake. It was a lot to take in, in a small town, but I knew. I knew that it was my mother, and I knew that it wasn’t an animal who had found her body before some local fishermen. There was another eater, somewhere, and suddenly I didn’t feel safe. What if they came after me? I am half my mother, eater or not. I packed a bag and left with a full tank of gas and all the money I had been saving for almost 6 years. I didn’t dare look back. 

That was almost a year ago now. My 21st birthday was at the end of the summer and I had already driven across the country and back once. I was stuck somewhere between not wanting to settle down somewhere, and being too afraid to. I had no family elsewhere, at least not that I knew of, so there wasn’t anything grounding me to one specific spot. The life of a nomad was starting to grow on me! I found myself in Indiana, at the dumpiest ‘grocery store’ I had ever been in, which was saying a lot because I’ve seen some pretty deplorable places on my travels. 

“What kind of store runs out of lunchables?!”

There was a very intoxicated man wandering the store, drinking a 6 pack of cheap beer that I can only assume he hadn’t paid for. The store attendants didn’t even bat an eyelash at him, apparently this was a regular thing. I was at the end of the aisle he had just strolled down, looking at the bare bone essentials that were strewed about the shelves.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, you dumb bitch-”

A woman with a small child had asked to get by him on her way to the checkout lines. I wasn’t the only one watching him- a boy, about my age, had been following him around the store for a while now. I couldn’t tell if they were together or not, but the younger one seemed highly irritated with the antics.

“Hey!” He called, standing behind me. “You’re out of control, buddy.” Okay, so maybe they aren’t together. 

“You with the store or something?”

“No, I’m not with the store. But I’m going to escort you out of it.”

“Oh you are?” 

“Watch this,” the younger boy whispered as he stepped around me. 

He had a shit eating grin plastered to his face, as if he was waiting for this moment. He turned to the drunk man, smiled at him and without an ounce of hesitation, headbutted him. Hard. I could hear it break his nose. Blood began to seep down his face before he realized what had happened. The drunk threw an otherwise poorly calculated swing, but missed by a mile or more.

“Outside, you fucker!”

“You want to go outside? We can go outside! Let’s go outside!”

“Who the fuck do you think you are, you little asshole!”

“Is this how you spend your Saturdays? Harassing innocent people after you spend the morning jerking off…”

Their voices trailed off as the door closed behind them. I watched them chase each other around the parking lot for a moment before stepping out of view and behind the store. That was the most excitement I had seen in a long time! 

I made my purchases and used the microwave behind the counter to makeshift something for dinner. What I wouldn’t give for a real kitchen! It was nearly dark when I finally left, and there was no sign of the two men from earlier. I could only hope they sorted out their differences and everyone left without incident. 

I was crossing the parking lot to my truck when I noticed something someone, crawling out the window frame of an abandoned building a few yards away. It was the younger guy from earlier. His shirt was torn and he looked at me before doubling over. I couldn’t tell what he was doing, but could hear the distinct crinkle of a plastic water bottle and as he approached, I could see it- blood! A lot of fucking blood. I knew instantly what he was; his face and chest was smeared the same way I had seen my mother’s many times before. Despite his best efforts to apparently clean himself, the evidence was everywhere. I didn’t know rather to run or scream or-

“He’s back there, if you want to..” He nodded back towards the building, walking past me without batting an eyelash in my direction. Maybe they only “ate” once? Do they get full? They have to, right?

“No! No I don’t- I’m not a…No!” He stopped and looked me up and down. 

“Could have fooled me. You smell like one.”

“One what?” I hesitated, trying to keep the distance between us. 

“You tell me. You seem to know.”

“I’m not.”

“So you’ve said.”

“What do you mean ‘I smell like one?’”

“An eater. Eaters can smell other eaters. Usually.”

“Well, you’re wrong. I’m not a…a eater.” 

“Okay. Well, sorry.” He smiled, and I could see his blood stained teeth. Somehow, even in this moment, I wasn’t phased. “I’m gonna just…I’m gonna go now.” 

There was something about him…something that I couldn’t put a finger on, or take my eyes off of. He seemed…different? I only had my mother to compare him to, but there was still something. I watched him circle the parking lot, staring at the keys in his hand. Whatever he was trying to find must not have belonged to him. Wait was he-

“You can’t just steal his truck!” I laughed nervously, watching him climb in and start digging around. 

“What good is it to him now?” He turned the key over and tried to start it, groaning. “There’s no gas in it anyway.” 

“I’m sorry I don’t-”

“Will you drive me somewhere?”

“No! I don’t even know you!”

He jumped out of the truck, a piece of paper and a few dollars in his hand. He smiled, wiping his spare hand on his pant leg before extending it to me.

“Sorry, I’m Lee.”

“Lee?”

“Lee. No last name.” I looked at him for a minute, his smile never fading.

“Grace. Or Gracie.” 

“First and last?” He chuckled and whatever it was about him made me smile, even if I didn’t want to. ‘Don’t trust people’ I reminded myself.

“Look,” he continued. “You could have convinced me you were an eater, like I said, you smell like one. And if you’re really not, hey that's cool too! But eaters don’t eat eaters, so I’ll treat you like one if you’ll just drive me…” he looked at the paper and spun around in a small circle before pointing in some opposite direction. “If you’ll drive me like 15 minutes that way? Please?”

I tried to weigh my options, the risks I was taking by giving in, but there it was again, that thing that was different about him. Whatever it is, it was telling me to just give him the ride. I could leave him there and never have to see him again if the next 15 minutes gave me any inclination that Lee couldn’t be trusted. 

“Okay,” I sighed, pointing him towards my own truck a few spots over. “But if you try to-”

“Cross my heart I won't!”

We hopped in and he gave me directions. He was quiet, domestic really…not something I would have expected from one of them. He just sat there, like nothing had happened. I couldn’t help but eye him the whole way, and he definitely knew, but didn’t say anything. It was almost a comforting silence, something I don’t recall ever experiencing in my life before now. 

Eventually, we made it. The house was dilapidated, not cared for in the slightest- it smelled of weed and alcohol from the driveway. A bachelor pad if I had ever seen one before. The lights were off, though I may have died of shock if anyone else was living there. 

“Thank you,” Lee smiled, hopping out of the car and coming over to my side. “Unless, I mean, do you want to come in?” He said it so calmly, like it was his own house! 

“I umm…” 

“I promised I wouldn’t bite, remember!”

That feeling returned, consuming my body. It’s fine, just go with him. Something inside me was screaming, I didn’t know if it was my brain, my heart, or my stomach, but none of them were arguing with whichever one was screaming. Maybe this is how I die! Only one way to find out…

I sighed, hopping out of the truck and following him into the house. The inside was somehow worse than the outside- I didn’t even think that was possible. Lee, however, seemed to be in love! He instantly started digging though the man’s collection of music, staring wildly at the raunchy posters on the wall. 

Lee let out an excited noise when he pulled a record from the crate, throwing it on the player. The music blared horribly loud, causing both of us to jump out of our skins.

“Fuck!” He yelled, turning it down quickly. The smile soon returned to his face and he began jumping around the room, singing and dancing erratically.

It was almost euphoric to watch. So I did- I just watched him. I watched him for a few minutes, my eyes following him as he jumped off the couch, landing in front of a very dirty mirror. He leaned in close, singing to his reflection until he caught sight of the state he was in. There was still blood smeared down his chin and throat, the rest was hidden behind his t-shirt. The smile dropped from his face and in its place…embarrassment?

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” I nodded and watched as he disappeared down the hallway. 

Last chance to leave.

No, I think I’m going to stay. 

Lee emerged a while later and asked if I wanted a turn in the bathroom. Again, this seemed so normal to him- he acted like this was his house. He must do this every time he…eats. A real shower sounded too inviting, no matter how gross the bathroom may be. 

With the endless supply of hot water, I’m not sure how long I was in there. A small part of me almost expected the boy to be gone when I was finished, but he wasn’t. I followed the sound of the television and found him sitting in front of it, laughing along to whatever way playing, a cigarette in hand. Domestic. 

I cleared my throat, not knowing what else to do. 

“Oh, hey!” He jumped up. “Do you want to watch something? I think there’s a few more channels on here…”

“No, that's okay. I might actually go to bed…if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all! Take the bed, I’ll sleep out here.” He pointed towards the back of the house. “It's just back there…on the left.”

I felt like I was supposed to say something, to thank him, maybe? But whatever it was, I couldn’t find it. I just looked at him, probably for too long. He began to rock back and forth on the balls of his heels, looking around the room and smiling awkwardly everytime his eyes met mine. 

“Goodnight, Lee.” I finally mumbled, stifling a yawn.

“Night, Gracie!” I heard him plop back down on the floor as I headed towards the bedroom.

Weirdest. Day. Ever.

******

I hardly slept last night. Part of me was scared I’d wake up to Lee standing over me, or that the guy whose house we were in was going to come back, or that a neighbor called the cops after seeing us come in or-

*knock* *knock* 

“Gracie, you awake?”

I sat up boltright. “Yeah, it’s open.”

No, you idiot! That’s not what he asked!

Lee opened the door awkwardly and stuck an arm through the crack, offering me a cup of coffee. Domestic!

“I’m not sure how you take it, but your only option is black or Irish, but you know, that’s still black.” I chuckled, opening the door further and taking the cup from him. His head was turned, not daring to look in the room. 

“Thank you.” 

“Mhmm.” 

There was an awkward silence. Lee still hadn't turned around. 

“Can I ask you something?” I finally found the courage to speak.

“Shoot.”

“This is normal for you, isn’t it?” 

“Was that the question, or a statement?”

I groaned, walking back over to the bed. Lee hesitantly peered around the corner, not daring to enter the room any further. 

“Sorry,” He chuckled nervously, taking a sip of coffee. “But yeah, I guess this is normal? Are you referring to the whole,” He made an exaggerated chewing motion, teeth clicking together audibly. “Thing or?”

“That. Yes. But I assumed that was normal for you. It was normal for my mother, anyway. But I was referring to the whole ‘making yourself at home’ type of thing.”

“Your mother?!” I just looked at him, waiting for an answer to the second part of the question- the actual question. “Umm. I mean, everyone’s got their own rules, I guess. I don’t see any harm in staying a night or two. It’s not like he’s going to need it.” 

We sat silently, sipping shitty coffee and stealing glances at each other. The comfortable silence settling over us once again.

“If you’re not from around here, where are you from? And where are you going?”

“Kentucky,” he smiled, looking like he was reminiscing. “Got family there, sort of...but I’m not sure where I’m going…I don’t ever really know. I just…go. What about you?”

“I’m from New York-”

“Holy shit!”

“Yeah. But there’s nothing left there for me so I’m making my way back across the country.” I shrugged, the idea didn’t seem so crazy to me as it once did. 

“I’m sorry, back?!”

“I’ve been on the road for almost a year.” 

“That sounds awesome! You’ll have to tell me about it…sometime.” The smile on his face faded slightly as he stared at the contents of the mug in his hand.

Is this where we were supposed to part ways? It didn’t feel right to get back in the truck and leave him, but taking him with me? That sounded just as weird. I’ve never been conflicted over the…wellbeing? Of another person? Is that what this was called? 

Hypothetically, I thought to myself. What would be the harm in asking him to come along? What was stopping me from dumping him on the side of the road somewhere if he pissed me off or tried to bite or whatever else could possibly happen. He wasn’t tied to anywhere either, not really anyway. He had been doing things his way for who knows how long, clearly he could take care of himself. He seemed to be doing a better job at it than me, actually. And the odds of ever running into him again? There was something about him that wasn’t…scary. Maybe it was the pink hair! 

“I’ll tell you.” I smiled, finishing the coffee. “You drive. I’ll talk.” 

“What?”

“Unless you have other plans-”

“No!” Lee said, rather quickly. “Are, are you offering to take me with you?” He sounded less sure of himself as the sentence dragged on.

“IF,” I barked, standing up and sticking a pinky in his face. “You keep your promise!”

“Cross my heart.” He smiled, drawing an ‘X’ over his chest before hooking his pinky with mine. 

[sequinsmile-x]

Hi, first of all, this isn't a complaint :) I'm just really curious. I know you aren't the only one who wrote Hotchniss fic where Hotch said "Jack isn't your son" to Emily, but I genuinely forgot what other fics there are, and you're one of my favorite writers across every fandom I've read, so I just genuinely want to ask your opinion.

Somehow, men nowadays say that frequently. I've heard these discussions with two different friend groups, and both resulted in a divorce. One had raised the son for 7 years, and the other one for 5 years (both exes passed away), and after that comment, both unconsciously shut down and to avoid resentment they divorced their husband even though both still really loved them. Their friends and therapists agree that their husbands saying that minimizes their role all these years even though they also raised their son.

So my question is, in all the fics I've read, Emily always moves on, but do you think she deep down has resentment about it? Especially when someone you love hurts you, it will cut way deeper, especially about a kid. Do you think she unconsciously will think twice before suggesting/doing something that's usually 'way too parenting'?

Thanks for the question! It’s been interesting to think about whilst I make dinner haha

This is exactly why I’ve only ever had him say it a couple of times in very specific circumstances when he’s very stressed/angry. Because he wouldn’t consciously say it because he knows it would upset her.

I think Emily is a very forgiving person. I don’t think she’d hold resentment necessarily but she’d be more careful for a week or so afterwards. But I think he would be too, going out of his way to ask for her opinion on anything relating to Jack, making sure she feels included.

At the end of the day they are both capable of saying something they don’t mean in anger, and they love each other enough to work through it.

[storiesbyrhi]

Vintage Reeboks - Chapter 1: Lover's Lake

Eddie Munson x Reader

1584 words

Warnings: Depiction of drowning; mentions of weed; warnings updated with new chapters;

Synopsis: The gate at the bottom of Lover’s Lake was meant to spit the quartet out in the Upside Down. Steve, Nancy, and Robin were meant to be there. He wasn’t meant to be alone. But when Eddie comes to on the shoreline, you’re there. It’s not the Upside Down. It’s not Lover’s Lake. It’s not 1986.

Chapter 1: Lover’s Lake

“Somebody’s gotta go down there and check this thing out. Unless one of you three can top being the Hawkins High Swim Co-Captain and a certified lifeguard for three years, then it’s gotta be me. No complaints. Alright?” Steve said, ignoring the stress in Nancy’s voice.

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Eddie chimed in. “I do not want to go down there.”

Eddie Munson sat in the small boat as a wanted man. As Steve stripped off his shoes and top, Eddie wrapped a torch in one of the plastic bags he had stashed in his pockets. They were to keep his smokes dry, and just in case of emergencies.

“Hey… Good luck,” Eddie offered as he handed Steve the torch.

Steve dived in with excellent form. It was quiet and still on the lake. Robin wouldn’t let Eddie smoke and Nancy’s nerves were palpable. When it was closing in on a minute, the girls time checked Steve.

Eddie felt awkward in the silence. He was on the verge of saying something, anything, when Steve broke through the water’s surface, scaring the trio.

He’d found the gate, a “snack-size gate” to be specific. Steve was proud of himself, but the victory was short-lived as something pulled him under. He was barely able to keep hold of the boat. He looked up at Nancy for only a second before it yanked him down again, this time, he didn’t reappear.

Nancy didn’t hesitate. She told Robin and Eddie to stay put, and she was diving in after Steve.

Robin sat on the edge of the boat, her back to the water.

Eddie stuttered out a line of no, no, no, no, then, “What are you doing? She said wait,”

“Yeah, I heard her,”

“She’s in charge!” Eddie reminded Robin, happy in this case to have someone in a position of authority telling him what to do. As it turned out, in situations where he was utterly terrified, he wasn’t so punk after all.

It didn’t matter, Robin was in the water, leaving him alone on the boat in the middle of a lake filled with the unknown. After screaming at the gods, Eddie stood.

“Oh, this is so stupid!” And he was diving in after the others.

Eddie wasn’t a strong swimmer; he’d barely made it out after Patrick was killed by Vecna, Jason’s grief-stricken screams following him all the way to the opposite side of the lake. The red glow on the lake’s bottom though, it guided him. He pushed down, down, down, and finally – through.

He wasn’t sure what to expect on the other side of the gate. What he’d been able to piece together from the fragments of exposition given by the others, it was going to be like Hawkins, but with monsters and nasty shit. 

The gate felt bad. Thick. Slimy. Like mucus. Or maybe being born. But Eddie didn’t have time to dwell. He was still in water. It was still dark. And he felt like his lungs were going to burst.

He looked left and right, and back again. Where did the gate go? The red glow was gone. Panic was setting in, a feeling Eddie was becoming all too familiar with. He was down too deep; by the time he found moonlight his vision was going blurry.

A ringing in his head was quickly rising to the status of loudest sound he’d ever heard. It was the moment it stopped – complete and utter silence left in its wake – that Eddie’s eyes closed and his mouth opened. He tried to breathe, finding only water to inhale.

Eddie regretted not making time to hear that story about Wayne’s mugs and caps. He regretted selling to Chrissy, not because it had led him to Lover’s Lake that night, but because he had seen fear and pain in her face. He wished he’d said something to her. He regretted failing classes and not shooting his shot more.

Eddie was unconscious as you heaved him up, up, up and into the freezing nighttime air.

You gasped, struggled, barely maintaining a hold on him. Adrenaline kicking in and a good dose of stubbornness too, you slowly made your way to shore. When your energy waned, you floated on your back, trying to push Eddie’s deadweight to do the same.

Safe on land, you pushed Eddie onto his back. All you knew about CPR was learnt by watching too much Netflix.

“Fuck, fuck,” you mumbled as you attempted to find a pulse. Maybe it was there or maybe it was your own speeding one you could feel.

Okay, okay, alright, you told yourself, do the heart thing. You began pumping against Eddie’s chest to the tune of a song your father used to sing.

“It’s the CPR song!” he had said a million times, like it was his favourite thing about it. You had always told him his taste in music sucked.

Suddenly, in the middle of your melodic memory, water spluttered from Eddie’s mouth and he began to cough.

“Oh my fucking god!” you yelled, relief pushing you back to land on your ass. You watched him as he sat and began to look around wildly. “Woah, woah!” you said as he stood, wobbly on his feet. You stood too.

“Where-what-” he said, holding his arm out to keep you at a distance.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,”

“Is this it? Did we- Is this the upside… side… down… The fuckin’… Where’s Harrington?”

His confusion was almost scary, so you took a step back and let him continue to take in his surroundings. A string of expletives sounded out as he ran up and down the shoreline.

“I think you should sit down!” you yelled after him. “You almost drowned!”

He wasn’t listening, but he was aware of you, throwing glances at you as he searched for something. It was during one of the glances you realised you were still in just your underwear. Never in your life had someone seen you just in your underwear, and not even the emergency status of the situation stopped you from feeling embarrassed.

As you quickly put your clothes on over your lake water wet underwear, you scanned your memory. You hadn’t seen anyone go into the water. Where did he come from? Was he already out there when you throw yourself into the lake in a desperate attempt to find some sort of momentary oblivion?

If he was already out there, why was he still in jeans and… Reeboks? Vintage Reeboks. Shit, you thought. Maybe he was having some sort of mental break. It would explain the pacing and mumbling.

“HARRINGTON!” Eddie yelled. “STEVE?! WHEELER? Jesus… DUSTIN!? ANYONE?!”

“Uh… I’m gonna call 911, okay?” you tried to talk to him again but nothing.

You fished your phone out your bag, still sitting where you’d left it on the shore. The screen lit up, and the light drew Eddie’s attention. He went quiet as he watched you.

“Uh… I don’t know… Ambulance and police,” you answered the 911 operator’s first question.

Eddie lunged, hitting the phone out of your hand. “No cops!” he yelled, then picked up a large rock, smashing your phone. It scared you. He scared you.

Eddie realised what he’d done when he looked over at you. His face softened but he didn’t say anything, turning back to the phone. He dropped to his knees and picked up the smashed thing, studying it.

“No cops,” he repeated, quieter. “What is this?”

“Look… I’m, ah, glad you’re not dead. No need to thank me… But I’m going to… go,” you told him.

“Wait- I’m sorry- I…” Eddie said, standing and turning to you.

You didn’t like how he was flipping between chaotic and calm so quickly. There was something about his sad eyes that glued you to the spot though. He was on the verge of tears. You could see that even in the moonlight.

“I don’t know what happened,” he said, dropping your phone like it was burning him.

“Okay,” you replied, nodding.

“I was with… my friends, and they’re gone, and I don’t think this is where I’m meant to be…” Eddie had his hands on his hips and he was calming down, the panic being replaced with a painful and deep sense that something was very wrong. More wrong than the Upside Down.

“Um… You’re in Hawkins,” you started. “That’s Lake Hopewell…”

“Hopewell? No, no, that’s Lover’s Lake,” he corrected, sounding so sure of himself.

It made you laugh, a sound neither of you expected to hear.

“I think people used to call it that? My mum calls it that still,”

“Used to?”

“Yeah, like, when she was growing up. In the 80s or whatever,” you clarified.

Eddie’s face dropped and he looked like he was about to lose his shit all over again. He could see you were confused.

“The 80s?” he asked, voice cracking a little. “It’s not the 80s… Now?”

The question sounded sad more than unhinged. You looked at him more closely. The vintage Reeboks. The hair. No. Absolutely not.

“It’s 2022,” you told him.

Eddie began to shake his head and he made a sound that was too close to a whimper to be anything other than tragic. He was mumbling to himself, quietly at first, then it got loud and you could make out names and maybe a Lord of the Rings reference, then he began to scream again.

“Fuck! Fuck! Jesus Christ! You’ve got to be shitting me!”

End Note: I have ideas for the series, but if you have any headcanons for what Eddie would be like if he somehow ended up in 2022, feel free to send them in. I'll credit all ideas, of course. I love to incorporate peoples' ideas and details into my stories so that they feel like our stories. I know that sounds super fuck off cheesy but it's trueeeee. xo Rhi

[flwrbo]

and you still want it (the inner sanctity)

jean kirstein x reader (1.5k words) smutty angst

(summary : you know jean loves her, and you know you'll only ever have a small piece of him. but for now, that's okay. based on twilight by boa)

cw : unhealthy situationships , cigarettes , smut (mdni)

The door shuts behind you as you walk in, throwing your work bag down on the table with a heavy sigh. “Jean?” your voice calls out through the empty hallways. You pull your hair out of its ponytail as you walk up the staircase, sighing the long day out of your body. 

You make your way to his bedroom, seeing the door slightly ajar. The shower can be heard through the open bathroom door, steaming the mirrors up. You pretend not to see the knit sweater or smell the flowery perfume in the air as you shed your work clothes off, heading into the shower. 

“Hi there,” The brunette smiles down at you, water glistening on his skin. “You scared me.”

Your hand moves before you can stop it, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes. “Sorry,” you mumble. 

He catches your hands in his, squeezing softly before running it down your forearms, down to your hips. “S’okay,” A kiss is pressed to your forehead. “How was work?”

A heavy sigh leaves your body once more, melting under his gaze and the hot water. “Really exhausting. Customers become so bitchy around the holidays, you know?” 

“So much for festive spirits,” He snorts, pulling you into his body. You hum in response, enjoying the contact. He turns your shivering body in his, your back now under the shower head. Jean separates from you, grabbing some of the shampoo you’d stashed there, and rubbing it in his hands before massaging it into your scalp. 

The stress from the day melts away under his hands, and you fight your hardest to keep your eyes open, watching as he looks down at you with soft eyes. 

These were the moments you didn’t understand. He was so soft, so sweet, so willing. It didn’t make sense in your brain that he didn’t want this. Or more specifically he didn’t want this with you. But you knew it had less to do with you and more to do with the owner of the sweater that was left over his banister. 

You try to will those thoughts away as he rinses the soap off, smiling lazily down at you. Your matching smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

You signed up for this. There was no room for complaints, tears, or negotiations. The love that thrums through your veins wasn’t enough for you to go back on your word, to scare him off. You knew where you stood in his life, just as he did. 

He knows you love him, as much as you could love someone. As close as you could get to that strangled word that never made sense to you, or him for that matter. But the semantics didn’t make a difference. He loved her, her long black hair, her sparking black-brown eyes, her straight-lipped smile. 

And you couldn’t do a single damned thing about it. Isn’t that the kicker of it all? But it didn’t matter to you, because you were here, in his arms, in his shower, with his lips pressing against your temple. 

He washes your body for you without you even having to ask, from your neck to your ankles, adoring every soft inch of your body. Sweet kisses are occasionally pressed here and there, on moles, freckles, and scars. And you just didn’t get it. 

It’s not that he didn’t like you. Of course, he liked you, liked you enough for you to be here with him in the sanctity of his home. He liked the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed at one of his dumb jokes, the way you talked in your sleep, the way you knew exactly where to touch him and when. 

But he didn’t like you enough to do a thing about it, clearly. So you take what you can get. 

He shuts the water off when it starts to run cold. “C’mere,” He whispers, pulling the towel he’d brought for himself over him, wrapping it around you. 

The two of you dry off quickly, in comfortable silence. “Can I steal something?” You ask, already toying with the handle on his dresser. 

He hums out in approval, pulling a grey hoodie over his head. You eye him out of the corner of your eyes. “That looks comfy,” He can’t stop the goofy grin from overtaking his face. 

“What’s wrong, you’re jealous?” 

“Of you, or the hoodie?”

He snorts, throwing his head back as you pull the drawer open. You tug some sweater over your head, letting it drape over you before going to his top drawer. You steal a random pair of boxers, sliding them up before huffing and throwing yourself back on his bed. You’re burrowed underneath his fuzzy navy blankets in no time, only your eyes and down uncovered from the warmth, crinkled at the corner from happiness.

“Room for one more?” He asks, before throwing himself on the bed beside you. 

“Mm,” You shake your head, pulling the blanket around you tighter. 

A small oh, yeah? is able to be heard before the warmth of the blanket is suddenly torn away from you. 

A gasp leaves your mouth at the cold, and you send a jokingly angered look his way. “How dare you?”

Jean means to have a smart comeback, truly, but it fizzles out on his tongue when he takes the sight of you in. His shirt is ridden up on your hips, his boxers filled out so cutely by your thighs. Your cheeks are a little red from the cold temperature of his room, your hair in disarray… eyes wide as you stare up at him. 

“I’ll warm you up,” his voice is gruff as he envelops you with both his body and the warm duvet. His hands, somehow always warm, rest themselves on your thighs, rubbing and tracing there. “We’ll start here,”

His hands feel big and warm, soft. The feeling of his warm hands on your icy thighs causes goosebumps to rise on your arms. “And go here…” he drags to your stomach, rubbing softly up and down, teasing the bottom of your bare breasts. The combination of his hands and the frigid air of the room causes your nipples to be hard already. 

His fingers trace upwards, rubbing over them softly. You pant lightly at the stimulation, rubbing your thighs together. “Look at you, Bug,” one hand comes back down to grip your thigh. “You’re gonna start a fire.” His hand moves down to cup you between your legs. “My, you are very warm down here,” He juts his tongue in his cheek, a goofy smile on his lips. “You must not need me to warm you up anymore.”

“Touch me, please,” And so he does. Gasps and moans fill the room as the two of you become acquainted with each other’s bodies that you both already know so well. His fingers, well longer than yours, touch and caress you in ways you could never perfectly mimic. His mouth is hot as he kisses you deeply into the pillows, wet hair sprawled around you. He travels down your body with wet presses of his lips. You try not to think about where his mouth may have been tonight; if it kissed her as sweetly as he kissed you between your thighs.

Your hand presses to your mouth as a stray tear falls down your cheek, closing your eyes as you succumb to the pleasure of his tongue. 

You pull him back into your body, hand tracing the side of his face where his stubble is growing back, handsome as ever. Silent prayers are sent above that he can’t see the fresh tear streak down to your temple. If he sees it, he doesn’t say anything about it. He simply shucks his freshly placed sweats down his hips, pressing himself into you as you look deeply into his eyes.

He doesn’t think about her. Or the way he remembers her voice breaking as she tells him he can’t do this to him anymore. Or the pain he felt in his gut when she finally admitted that she loved someone else. He doesn’t think about the sweater she’d left on his stairwell as she fled the scene, like a killer ashamed of what she’d done.

Instead, he lays it all into you. Deeply, harshly, drowning all of the pain out with his bruising grasp on your jaw and powerful thrusts with his hips. And when he finally finishes, he looks into your wide tear-streaked eyes, and all he can think about is how pretty you looked like this. 

The two of you sit on the balcony after, half-dressed and wrapped in a thick blanket as cigarette smoke wraps around you. The words can’t stop themselves as they force themselves out of your throat. 

“I think I love you.”

He doesn’t say anything. For a minute, you think the two of you would pretend it didn’t happen at all. But instead he says, “That’s okay.”

And you finally begin to think it will be.

[thegeminisage]

wow it is star trek update time. last night we watched ds9's "blood oath" and tng's "journey's end," which is one of the strongest quality ricochets we've had yet.

blood oath (ds9):

okay, so the summary said "three klingon legends" but what i didn't realize is that they were all REAL KLINGONS FROM THE ORIGINAL SERIES

i have to pain this picture for you, whoever is reading this. the three klingons in this episode appeared in "errand or mercy" "the trouble with tribbles" and "day of the dove." like, they really came back to reprise their roles almost 30 years later. i'm going to paste a picture but uhtw 60s blackface

now, if you're a tos viewer, you may recognize that fella in the middle as also having played the titular squire of gothos in. "squire of gothos." now, as an episode, i find "squire of gothos" to be pretty mid, but there is one specific scene that really did something for me. to me? it did something TO me. what it did to me was send me off the fucking deep end, i wish i could convey the depths of my madness with human words

(still screenshot grabbed from this infinitely more amazing gifset, give it up for @maulthots for enabling me, no literally please go through her gif tag and reblog her gifs)

anyway, before my good and wonderful friend so kindly made this gifset for me, i did maybe sit in front of my pc and replay the clip upwards of [mumble] times a day because i was very, very unwell. when i watched this scene for the very first time what happened to me in that single instant was the bone-deep realization that james t kirk (tos and aos) ate fascists on tarsus iv, probably, and he'd fucking do it again because nobody tastes better than a fascist! i wrote an entire fanfic about it, sorry for the spoilers.

what does squire of gothos and tarsus iv have to do with ds9? well first of all every star trek episode is secretly about tarsus iv so jot that down

but secondly, i've watched this clip so many times i have to hide my face when this man shows up in trouble with tribbles. now, i'm not so good with faces, but i KNOW THAT VOICE. but i know him AS the squire of gothos. i frequently forget entirely that he also plays a klingon, so i didn't recognize his name. so when i heard the squire of gothos's voice come out of a random klingon's mouth in ds9 my immediate kneejerk reaction was "no i am hearing things that can't be--" BUT IT WAS. i PAUSED the episode so i could look iy up, realized that the guy in the drunk tank was kor or "do you have a tongue you will be taught to use it" fame, and then to my eternal glee, kang shows up next

i remembered reading once that kang came back later and i was like ??? no one comes back later on tos BUT HE DID! I JUST HAD TO WAIT FOR IT!!!!! mystery finally solved...........

once i recognized them this episode was a blast. absolutely loving these 100 year old klingons getting ready for a rip roaring rampage of supercentenarian revenge. i was VERY sad that they died at the end but at least presumably they all died together (didnt see the last one go down but im just assuming he lived long enough to eat the albino's heart and then die)

(the albino is a really funny concept by the way like he's not even albino he's just a white klingon)

other notable things about this episode: firstly, quark hiding behind odo at the beginning. classic. secondly, dax actually being a good fighter ?!?!?! and finally, a true passing of the bechdel test where dax asked kira some alarming and upsetting questions about killing people and kira immediately took her aside and MADE her talk. i love. Women. and also women who murder people. i support womens wrongs.

i even love that the ONE time sisko doesn't back up one of his people it's for a good reason (doesn't want the 27yo reincarnation of his father figure to die on a klingon suicide mission)

10000/10, absolutely stellar ep, zero complaints

journey's end (tng):

oh boy.

just about the coldest bucket of fucking water...

you know, we tried to give this episode the benefit of the doubt actually. we were like "maybe this was progressive in 1994. i mean they ARE saying that moving these guys forcibly would be bad" and i mean like what would we know about what was progressive in 94? we were 5. so we checked and um i don't think anybody liked it in 1994 either

devastating that THIS has to be a wesley episode bc i wanted a better sendoff for my boy. "i had a vision and now i'm leaving starfleet" and yes they said the word vision in the most derogatory way possible. jesus christ

TRAVELER ALIEN RACEFAKING? HE PRETENDED TO BE NATIVE AMERICAN TO GIVE WESLEY THE VISION? and then he was like haha don't you know all that stuff is fake. (picard earlier in this episode "i am sooo respectful of your beliefs")

furthermore when picard was like "oh yeah this guy blames me for the crimes of my colonizer ancestor" girl at no point did he say that. idk if white people should go around accusing other white people of white guilt so i don't say this lightly but jesus christ captain picard can you tone it the fuck down buddy

i came across a gifset today of picard from season 5 (idr the episode) going "starfleet doesn't want officers who blindly follow orders sayign you're just following orders has been used to justify too many tragedies in our history" and then smash cut to this episode where he's like "well i tried but yeah i'm gonna have to move you sowwy :/" like good lord.

anyway it's a bummer these last few eps of tng have been less than great bc ik tng is capable of good episodes and i was hoping this series would go out on a high note. but it's going to end the same way it began with us waiting for something good to happen and throwing popcorn at picard

TONIGHT: ds9's "the maquis part i" and tng's "firstborn." i am Braced. for trouble.