#I got irrationally angered and wrote a thing

[fiveredlights]

extended author's note for The DAUD

ah The DAUD. what is there to say about The DAUD. first time i’ve fallen out of my chair whilst writing actually. had a great bruise on my thigh for a fortnight and my head hurt for a day and i did blame benjamin.  

the many drafts of The DAUD

so originally The DAUD was just going to be the opening scene, straight to season launch, straight to the race and then the closing scene. which would’ve taken place at a mcdonald’s carpark mind you. 

daniel was admittedly much less depressed, much less anxious, but as i got to writing i just couldn’t ignore everything to do with [Redacted Race & Team] and obviously benjamin’s presence forced my hand and i just couldn’t pretend that daniel was all happy smiley sunshine etc. 

any reminders of f1, and i would feel another wave of grief hit me. it would happen again and again and again and all this grief and sadness would start to build up as anger and i don’t know where to place all the grief and sadness and anger. 

i had a lot of cues to drive all these big things and honestly like 99.9% just came from the haha in daniel’s post. like. maybe the overarching thesis of this whole fic is how much can one four letter word ruin my life and the answer is A LOT! 

the 0.01% is me feeling just so tired of f1 now. exhausted. wrung out. i hate change, and i know fear of it will not make it stop, but seeing everything and everyone move on so easily gutted my little heart out. i got so irrationally angry at the people who wanted daniel to do this, or that, etc because all that lingered in the background of my mind was the haha. if i devoted basically my whole life to a sport that turned on me and started hating me, i would devote myself to absolutely nothing for the rest of my life. which is maybe also why daniel really struggles with max’s presence. 

to him, it is only time before max turns around and starts hating him, just like the sport did. difficult to devote, when all they do is leave. 

weirdly i feel like this is some sort of spiritual successor of i’ll never leave (never mind) even though the max/daniel relationship are in two different places, but the daniel’s themselves are obviously similar. INLNM daniel ends the fic with hiding how he’s feeling, DAUD daniel starts the fic with him hiding how he’s feeling, until we slowly start to descend into the Snap Point. 

one draft had actually social media bits in it but that was quickly abandoned after i realised my university kicked me out of the adobe plan (which is so rude considering how much money i pay them every year) and i didn’t want to do the text version because it would break immersion—i’d already introduced the wikipedia page the chapter before. 

(but apparently i did write a text only version so that’ll be down there someone.) 

benjamin (and julian) 

here’s the thing. i have so many notes everywhere that express my bitter hatred towards benjamin. hated him. he was genuinely the most unwieldy character to write and i thought that about matthew. freudian slip. 

i would say it wasn’t until the last week, until i wrote the scene where he reheats the food for max i was like wait. actually. maybe you aren’t so bad. then he left and i was like maybe i do miss you.

(then i wrote the epilogue and i didn’t miss him at all.)

benjamin was originally called jaxson, but once julian came into play, jaxson was changed into benjamin and the rest is history. julian’s identity actually wasn’t meant to be revealed in the fic at all, not until the epilogue but benjamin just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. benjamin is somehow the worst and best secret keeper ever.

my favourite scene does go to him though. when max stabs his salad in the exact same way benjamin did earlier. my little heart goes and falls off a cliff. so endeared by these silly little guys and their silly little traits. 

daniel and the very unreliable narration

the thing is i don’t even know if they’re like dating by the end of it. they’re like 75% of the way there and the last 25% is just for them. if you asked max he would probably be like “yeah we’re together???” and if you asked daniel it would be “we’re working our way towards it” — but i think max knows that and they’re just taking it day by day. they have time. 

i knew i wanted to write his depression and his anxiety in a very specific way aka the way i know because it is easier to write what you know but i did *try* to focus on the physicality of it? i’m wording this horribly, but honestly a little bit for my own emotional stability and sanity, i needed daniel to zone in on the physical aspects vs the emotional. 

(look i was already opening a bag of worms writing about anxiety and depression—i too thought i had kept my own shit locked, loaded, thrown out the key, hashtag very good with everything, hashtag love and light, but with the amount of times i cried whilst writing this i’m not too sure.)

i actually don't know where i'm going with this. moving on.

random in universe lore drops

benjamin and julian drove for italian teams in f2/f3, julian for PREMA and benjamin for Trident. i don’t think julian’s with any driver academies right now, a free agent if you will.

there was a planned subplot where there was only two beds for three people because grace had stolen the third bed from daniel’s house for one of their relatives staying and never gave it back (there was no relative she was trying to reverse parent trap them)

this was deleted because they somehow ended up in one bed anyway. at this point i am 3 for 3 in max and daniel somehow ending up in one bed. okay i didn’t plan for it to happen it just happened! 

when daniel and max have children, they have two twin girls name jemima and julianne :)

easter eggs

because it wouldn’t be a FRL-fic if i didn’t refer to my other children at least once! 

the blue sweater max throws at daniel is the same blue sweater he stole/is wearing during their veranda-sunrise scene in glitter on the floor prequel -> daniel is wearing it this time during their balcony-night time scene :) 

julian’s favourite cowboy song is cowboy like me, famously sung by takes one to know one daniel to max. not too much on CLM benjamin… do you KNOW how important that song is to max and daniel in that universe? (also originally they were throwing phones at each other before i cut it out because we gotta tone them down)

know in my heart i wanted the cats quentin and ziggy to either be gary and steve OR matthew and callan. gary and steve i could’ve probably got away with, but matthew and callan are just too blatant. but know deep in my heart i wanted it to be them. 

the enchante collection daniel and max go through is very vaguely intended to be the Enchanté x MV33 collection from old habits, but obviously without the MV33. 

the social media deleted bits

(originally LL was still in RB and benjamin was going to finish in P10. but i decided that even fictional RB doesn’t deserve anything good, so no points for you!) 

Formula 1 F1 · 17 Feb

The wait is almost over for the biggest F1 launch event ever 🙌

F1 75 Live at The 02 is happening tomorrow! With livery reveals from all 10 teams, interviews with drivers and team principals, it’s an unmissable event 🤩

(Keep an eye out at the 2025 DAUD reveal… we heard it’s a big name 👀)

#F1 #F175Live

129 replies 482 reposts 8,291 likes

Visa Cash App Racing Bulls VisaCashAppRB ·  17 Feb

1️⃣ MORE SLEEP 😴

Who else is ready to see our 2025 livery and meet our DAUD  🙋

[Photo: The car underneath a black sheet, the lights dimmed out.]

12 replies 11 reposts 328 likes

—

ric3stappen

place your bets on who the DAUD will be this year. i’m thinking alternate fernando finally found a way to bribe the FIA and we’ll finally get some like weird twin driver thing this year

#truly it’s what we deserve #what’s the point of using the DAUD program if you aren’t going to have any fun with it 

392 notes

jeanie 🤠 COTADANIEL ·17 Feb

the funniest option ever would be another daniel being the DAUD

12 replies 19 reposts 282 likes

jeanie 🤠 COTADANIEL · 17 Feb

Replying to COTADANIEL

i say funny but i honestly might just start crying like i’m still not doing emotionally well

4 replies 0 reposts 98 likes

F175 Live at The 02 — 2025 F1 Season Launch

532K watching Started 55 min ago #F1…more

F1 10.8M

[00:55:33]

A lift below the stage rises to reveal the Racing Bull’s car, Yuki Tsunoda and Isack Hadjar. The car slides forward, as both drivers walk around waving at the crowd. The lift rises again to Benjamin walking out.

—

maxielupdates

am i hallucinating 

38 notes

tris ☘️ THREETHREETHREE · 17 Feb

I’M SO SORRY DID YOU SAY RICCIARDO ?!

8 replies 58 reposts 283 likes

bigriccenergy

like daniel ricciardo… that ricciardo… what the fuck

#what in the DANIEL CURSE IS HAPPENING

128 notes

jeanie 🤠 COTADANIEL · 17 Feb

i have started crying for those keeping track i did mean it when i said i am emotionally unwell

2 replies 0 reposts 12 likes

—

[Photo: Benjamin standing in front of the car, with his arms crossed. 36 is his driver’s number.]

Liked by maxverstappen1 and others

visacashapprb You did hear that right, introducing the DAUD for the 2025 season is none other than Benjamin Ricciardo 👏

Read more at the 🔗in our bio.

View all 12,382 comments

matthewevca As in Daniel Ricciardo’s son or ??????????

23 February

—

jake 381racers · 23 Feb

So I guess this technically means that Max has driven against a Ricciardo in every single year of his F1 career so far still

5 replies 1 reposts 192 likes 

kadey danyellricciardo · 23 Feb

Replying to 381racers

i love that this is your first thought 

1 replies 0 reposts 21 likes

jake 381racers · 23 Feb

Replying to danyellricciardo

It has to be otherwise suddenly I’m at Milton Keynes and Faenza with lighter fluid and matches

0 replies 9 reposts 59 likes

verstappenricciardo

do you think that benjamin tried to go back to his universe after finding out what red bull did to daniel here or

#that or he's going to crash the car at every possible point to really fuck with the costcap and i would support him#wait i just had an awful thought what if his daniel also went through what we went through NOOOOOO #guys i have to believe that one universe out there is just beautiful and we got what we wanted again so delete that thought

842 notes

—

danielricciardo 36m

[Photo: Daniel and Benjamin sitting next to each other, attempting to mirror each other.

Text reads: Seeing (almost) double 👨👨]

—

tris ☘️ THREETHREETHREE · 24 Feb

literally fell out my chair seeing that IG story like how does one process this

3 replies 7 reposts 48 likes

—

F1TV: 2025 PRE SEASON TESTING DAY 1

Will BUXTON: Now is probably a good time as ever to talk about the Australian sized elephant sitting in the Racing Bulls garage, this year’s Designated Alternate Universe Driver is Benjamin Ricciardo. Some of you at home might be new to the sport, you might have heard of Ricciardo before, but Laura just talk us through the significance of the DAUD program and Benjamin Ricciardo being in the Racing Bulls.

Laura WINTER: Absolutely, so for those new to the sport, welcome, we’re glad to have you. Every year the sport welcomes a driver from another universe, otherwise known as the DAUD, they arrive for pre-season testing and complete the first race of the season before going back to their universe. The DAUD program was introduced as a way for teams to potentially become more competitive depending on where their DAUD came from, and it’s just a really interesting way to challenge teams up and down the grid. Teams work on a rotation depending on the last number of the year, so since it is 2025, Racing Bulls have the pleasure of hosting the DAUD who ended up being Benjamin Ricciardo.

BUXTON: It’s not a coincidence if you are recognising the Ricciardo name, he is related to Daniel Ricciardo, he is in fact Daniel’s son. But not the Daniel that we currently know, the whole alternate universe can start to confuse people.

WINTER: I find that if you try and not to think about it then it actually makes more sense. But obviously the timing of everything given the past season with Daniel leaving Racing Bulls midway through the season for Liam Lawson, who now has Daniel’s kid as his teammate for one race is probably not what anyone expected coming into the season. 

BUXTON: I have to assume that it’s probably a little bit awkward in that garage, for everyone involved. I’ve been told that Daniel is not in Bahrain to watch Benjamin, but we’ll see whether he shows up in Melbourne. It is his home race, for both Benjamin and Daniel.

WINTER: We’re in early stages of testing, so I’m interested to see how Benjamin will fare. He does also have that time difference to fare with, I believe he also did travel back twenty years as well as hopping universes, so I can only assume Daniel gave him a bunch of tips on how to drive the car. 

—

ric3stappen 

me clocking in to watch all three days of testing even though i vowed to never give a single fuck about the sport ever again 

#you put daniel’s son in front of me and you tell me you’re also not watching him every time he races… c’mon

verstappenricciardo

omg they gave benjamin pierre hamelin maybe all is right with the world

#i would put money that pierre LEPT at the opportunity #every race last year with lawson he sounded done you know he misses daniel 

bigriccenergy 

please tell me you guys saw that video of max watching benjamin in the garage GOD MY HEART

#and why is he filming?? omg is he filming for daniel #im gonna go lay down

jake 381racers 

why max verstappen jet in perth? max verstappen in perth? why max verstappen jet not in melbourne? max verstappen visiting daniel ricciardo? 

deuxmoi 3hr

[Sent via form submission from Deuxmoi

Pseudonyms, Please: Thrice is Nice

Email: thriceisnice@/gmail.com

Subject: Third wheeling

Message: Max Verstappen seen at Perth arrivals airport this morning (around 3:30am). Was with Benjamin as well, Daniel and his mum picked them up from arrivals hall—the two former teammates looking veryyyyyy cosy. Almost too cosy. Make of that what you will.

Text overlayed: For my F1 enjoyers 👀]

—

maxielupdates 

look deuxmoi is like the gossips of all gossips, BUT we do know max is in perth. so. make of that what you will. 

#subject line being third wheeling…so interesting

tris

hold on… max is in perth… with benjamin… and daniel … and his family… there’s something there but i’ll be shot into the sun if i say it 

ric3stappen 

ASK: have you seen this: tumblr maxielupdates post

my favourite sentence is the too cozy one because for normal people i assume it just means like a long hug but for these two social norms have and will always continue to be broken so i just assume they were like holding a staring contest in the middle of the terminal or something idk

#i can imagine them just 👁️👁️ across the terminal and people around them being like wtf 

20 notes

—

F1 Press Conference

Drivers: Max VERSTAPPEN (Red Bull), Benjamin RICCIARDO (Racing Bulls), Oscar PIASTRI (McLaren) 

Q: Benjamin, seeing as you’re new to the grid for this race, we’ll start with you. It must feel exciting coming into this as our DAUD for the 2025 season, just talk us through how this past month has been for you?

Benjamin RICCIARDO: It’s definitely been hectic, like the second I stepped out it was such an immediate change than what I’m used to, even just being twenty or so years back than the time period I’m used to, let alone being in a completely different universe, but it’s been cool. You know how parents are always like “back in my day…” type of things and we would be like “yeah whatever” as a kid, but I actually now get to experience it, which is crazy. Obviously things aren’t you know a one for one recreation of my parents lives, but it’s pretty similar.

Q: Speaking of your parents, it would be remiss not to bring them up. How do you feel coming into the DAUD program being related to Daniel?

BR: There are like four people in this room who are ready to throw water at me if I say too much, but the DAUDs being related to F1 drivers isn’t exactly a new concept. I think you guys had one of Lewis’ or Rosberg’s kids a couple years back—I don’t exactly remember—but I think it’s probably just… let’s say the timing of everything that’s probably assisted in it being a bigger deal than it needs to be. 

Q: You mention the timing of everything, there must be some awkwardness within the team given who you are and what happened to Daniel in the previous season?

BR: I feel like a lot of people forget that all the DAUDs are crosschecked so that we don’t exist in this current universe. Like, it can be weird to think about, but Daniel here obviously didn’t have a baby last year, so there’s no physical way that I could exist here. So yes, whilst technically he is my dad, he’s not. Daniel here is like my bonus dad, in a weird alternate universe–twin way. I’m obviously aware of what happened here, but I can’t really speak too much about what unfortunately happened between Daniel here and the team. I think it’s pretty ******* stupid what happened, but you know, hopefully I’ll be able to make him proud with what I’ll do here. Honestly, I just came here to race. I didn’t realise there would be so many questions!

Max VERSTAPPEN: I think in this universe you are holding the wrong names and passport! 

BR: You know that the other ones would cause even more questions.

Q: What do you mean by that Benjamin?

BR: I would love to tell you, but unless the memory wiping machines from Men In Black suddenly existed, I’m contractually obligated to say absolutely nothing. Maybe you’ll find out in like thirty three years, who knows. Is that when the statute of limitations are up?

—

kadey danyellricciardo · 

now i know why they haven’t let benjamin do any press until his race, he’s like three seconds away from saying FUCK THOSE NDAs 😭

ric3stappen

i have questions. so many questions. but apparently i won’t find out until 2058. 

#such a specific number benjamin… what do you know #max… what do you know

tris THREETHREETHREE

literally rotating between i want benjamin to score points but also not wanting him to score points because i want that team to fucking burn to the ground

maxielupdates

Full post race radio between Benjamin and Pierre: 

That is P10, P10 Benjamin. Excellent, excellent, excellent. Some very good driving, especially at the end with the attacking. You should be very pleased with yourself. 

That was fun! I scared myself at the end with the dive down, but we made it stick so that’s all that matters. Probably scared you guys as well!

You have been wonderful to work with over pre-season testing and this race weekend, your feedback has always been so concise and clear, and I speak for everyone in the garage that you are clearly a very talented driver, we wish you all the best for whatever comes when you go back home. And I was about to say that you got another point for fastest lap, but no we do not do that now. But still, one point is very good!

Thank you, you’ve been great to work with Pierre and everyone in the garage. I'll print this radio message out and get you guys to sign it when I go back home as my references, haha. I’m happy to leave the fastest lap award for Daniel, I think that one will always be his. Where did Max finish?

Max finished in P1, managed to pass Oscar on the last lap. Enjoy the final cool down lap Benjamin, and P0 when you pull into the pitlane and switch off the car.

Copy. Thank you guys. 

#pierre now misses not one but two ricciardos… free my guy #i love benjamin he just says whatever without a care in the world like how do you know about the ricciardo rule 

219 notes

jake 

What happens if we just didn’t send Ben back. Just kept him for the rest of the season. Then what. 

bigriccenergy

ALEXA PLAY SILVER SPRINGS BECAUSE BOY WILL TIME CASTS A SPELL BUT YOU WON’T FORGET ME I KNOW I COULD HAVE LOVED YOU BUT YOU WOULD NOT LET ME AND I’LL FOLLOW YOU DOWN TIL THE SOUND OF MY VOICE WILL HAUNT YOU GUYS YOU’LL NEVER GET AWAY FROM THE SOUND OF THE WOMAN THAT LOVES YOU (AND YES YOU WERE A FOOL)

#you can kill him. but maybe the universe will work in mysterious ways and send his son to humble you. #and that is hashtag love and light folks. #you can reshape the narrative how ever you want but the truth will persist and i think that is beautiful #you’ll never get away baby never get away 😝

281 notes

—

ric3stappen

okay now that i presume benjamin is long gone back to his own universe i can finally say it: do you guys think that benjamin isn’t just a ricciardo…. he’s a ricciardo-verstappen… because to me he honestly looks more like max than he does daniel… i can not be the only one who sees this

#like i’m not kidding go look at photos from australia where it’s three of them and pull your focus to look past the hair and the nose #i can’t be the only one seriously 

3,633 notes

[bunji-enthusiast]

Y/N: *laughs* How can anyone hate the rain? Estarossa: on GOD, they tryna drown me in this ho- I CANNOT SEE-

---------------------- Merlin: Change of plans, ignore your original objective. Merlin: Merlin: Leave nothing alive. Meliodas: *The only thing they fear is you cues* ----------------------

Ban: Last warning, do not touch the... Ban: Uh oh- King: Ban, stop being sexist. Ban: IM NOT BE- ----------------------

Jericho: And get this, his suicide note was stuck to the fridge with a Cookie Monster magnet. Jericho: All he wrote on it, "Jericho's fault". Jericho: Y/N: Guila: Jericho: I'm Jericho by the way, hi! *waves to y/n* Jericho: WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO HIM? ------------------------ Helbram: Murder literally doesn’t hurt anyone! Diane: What are you talking about? Of course— King , holding out a hand to shut Diane up: No, no, he has a point— ------------------------ King : Now, Lancelot, all of us are doing this because we care about you, okay? Ban: Except for me. I just wanted to see the look on your face. ---------------------- Nanashi: I don’t think our death ray is working. I’m standing right in it, and I’m not dead yet. ---------------------- Arden: I never tell people off the bat that I'm gay. I wait. I wait until they say some homophobic shit and then I laugh and am like "you know I'm gay right?" and watch the look of terror on their face. Denzel Liones: Denzel Liones: I like you. ---------------------- Arden: Thanks for opening my message and not responding. Waillo: All good bro, any time. Arden: Fuck you. ---------------------- Estarossa: You are irrationally angry 365 days a year. Zeldris: Well, that’s just your personal opinion, I don’t have anger issues. Do you guys think I have anger issues? Monspeet: Well, I wouldn’t really call it an issue. An issue is something you can fix. ---------------------- Gawain, singing: He's making a list, checking it twice, gonna find out who's on thin fucking ice Tristan Liones, also singing: Santa Claus is calling you out! ---------------------- Gowther: Why are you on fire? Ban: This is just how my day is going. ---------------------- Nanashi: There was a motor close to where I am right now. Nanashi: A motor- a motorcycle? Nanashi: Oh sorry, a murder. Arthur Pendragon: That escalated quickly. ---------------------- Elizabeth Liones: What if Cinderella was a baking slave instead of a cleaning slave, and her name was Mozzarella? Zeldris: Don't ever speak to me again. ---------------------- Isolde: Why do humans have different blood groups? Lancelot: So mosquitoes can enjoy different flavors. ---------------------- Mael: You use emoji’s like a straight person. Y/N: That’s literally the worst thing anyone has ever said about me. ---------------------- Galand: You wanna fight?! You got one! Meliodas: Okay! raises fists Escanor runs in, scoops Meliodas up in his arms, and runs away carrying him Galand: Galand: What? ---------------------- Zeldris: I can’t tell if you’re a genius or just incredibly arrogant. Fraudin: Well, on a good day, I’m both. ---------------------- Percival, seeing a banana on the car seat: What the FUCK?? Percival, buckling the banana up: Fucking buckle UP, it’s the LAW! ---------------------- Gawain: So Nasiens, how did your first time cooking dinner go? Nasiens: Pretty good if I do say so myself. Gawain: Oo! Okay, what are we having? Nasiens: Alright, so for appetizers, we have a potato. Gawain: A whole potato? Nasiens: Yes. And then for the main course, we have grilled cheese sandwiches! Gawain: These just look like big slabs of black. Nasiens: Because that's what they are! Nasiens: And then for desert, we have chocolate. Gawain: These are just chocolate chips? Nasiens: They sure are! Nasiens: And then for drinks, we have toast! Nasiens: lifts up a glass of blended toast Bon appetite! ---------------------- Howzer : dangling from a rope over a pit of fire Remember when I said I’d tell you when we’re in too deep? Gilthunder: Yes? Howzer: We’re in too deep. ---------------------- Dreyfus: I've never encountered a problem that can't be solved by an spontaneous musical number. ---------------------- Dreyfus: I fell— Hendrickson: From heaven? Dreyfus: No, I literally fell— Hendrickson: In love with me the moment you saw me? Dreyfus: MY ARM IS BROKEN! Hendrickson: Okay, but do you think I'm pretty? Be honest.

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

Deleted Scenes: A Character Study (Part 1)

Longer title -- “Deleted Scenes: if the Criminal Minds writers had any idea how to incorporate dramatic back story into a working narrative, A Character Study”

Every once in a while I get impassioned about something that happens in the show, or more importantly that doesn’t happen in the show -- but should have. This will probably be one of at least a handful, but for now, enjoy the pinnacle of my rage. Fueled by all the OPENINGS for Hotch to talk about his past and the writers taking advantage of NONE OF THEM, but this was my breaking point.

Rating: General 

Warnings: mentions of past child abuse

Pairing: none

Characters: Hotch, JJ

Episode, and placement: Season 10, Episode 05, “Boxed In”; after the episode 

Word count: 2,404

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29796501/chapters/73302726

--

A Prime Example

--

Very few things get to Aaron Hotchner. Especially things that are said with no relatable context to him or the details people don’t know about his life. His past, in particular. He pushes them back in compartmentalized little boxes, carefully labeled and sorted and set aside to be unpacked at a later date. They aren’t important when he’s on a case. When a twelve-year-old boy is missing and his life hangs in the balance. When time is of the essence. 

Which is why, on numerous occasions, he lets the things people say slide. 

Especially on the topic of Nature versus Nurture. 

He, himself, has written a handful of papers and reports on the very argument. There’s no doubt that Nature and Nurture have complicated roles in why ‘bad people do bad things’, in layman's terms. But the stigma surrounding it, cutting it into a black and white, all or nothing scenario will always rub him the wrong way. Not because he believes in it, one way or the other, but because he lives it. Day after day. 

It’s not his team’s fault that they don’t know that. Hotch keeps those parts of his life to himself. Lessons only he has learned, and has grown from, and keeps as careful guidelines. 

Until this case.

“I guess we all become our parents at some point.”

The way JJ had said this -- steady, with no hesitation, despite the choice in phrasing indicating it could be a right or wrong assumption -- gave the statement an air of inevitability. Creating a precedent in her mind that set Hotch's teeth on edge, though it had not been the appropriate moment to correct her on it. But it's not the first time JJ has said something along those lines. 

“Does the son of a sociopath even really have a chance?” 

Not a lot gets to Aaron Hotchner. Every other remark, observation, detail of an unsub’s correlation between their upbringing and their crimes he doesn’t let sting his exposition. It has never affected him before, and he vowed it never will. His father doesn’t get to take that away from him, too.

But the inevitability of her statement, indicating it was only a matter of time. No matter what he has done with his life or the person he has worked so hard to become and imbody, ultimately it wouldn’t matter in the end. That one day, Aaron Hotchner would be just like his father. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to live with himself, if that were to happen. 

That single, throw-away sentence, with a pedestrian phrasing he has heard over and over again, gets to Hotch. It buries itself in him like a tick and refuses to let go, not for tweezers or fire or smothering indifference. It is still there, echoing in his head as if shouted down a long tunnel, even after they get back to Quantico and are finishing up the closing paperwork later that week. He finds himself barely able to glance at JJ for longer than a moment without hearing her words once more, and Hotch berates himself for it. Over and over again. This is why he shuts it all down and doesn’t talk about it. This is why he keeps it buried, where it will never resurface. It interferes with the present, with his work and his friendships and his relationship with his son. 

His past needs to stay dead and buried in a plot in rural Virginia, where it belongs.

“I have those reports for you, Hotch,” JJ says, as if procured by his musings. He glances up for the briefest of moments, barely a blink, to acknowledge her and nod in thanks as she leaves the folders on his desk. Then he’s turning back to the SWAT team justification reports and expects that to be the last of it. Drowning himself in his work, where everything is strict codes and formal speech patterns and no emotional influence whatsoever.

Which is why he is surprised to hear JJ address him, again. Never having left his office. 

“Sir?” The formal term catches his attention even more. “Is everything alright? Did something happen after you missed Halloween night?”

“What?” The question genuinely throws him off, though it doesn’t show on his face. He had missed Halloween, the first time he had ever done so, but Jack understood. He was always much more accepting of the parameters of Hotch’s job than Haley ever was. It was all he’s ever known. “Oh, no -- Jack had a fun night. Slept on the couch so I could see him in his costume when he got home. How was Henry’s night?”

“He and Will had a great time,” JJ answers, her careful, worried expression not waning in the face of Hotch’s slightly more upbeat tone. It’s something he slips into subconsciously when speaking about Jack, or to Jack, or anywhere Jack might hear. Compartmentalization. “I just… noticed you seem off.”

Hotch nods once, in acknowledgement, because he knows he has. He’s working on it. There was no need for an intervention like this. He’s the Team Leader and Unit Chief, he wasn’t the one people were supposed to be checking on.

“Delayed reaction to the case,” he answers, looking back to the SWAT team report and signing off on another section for mobilization after hours. Overtime justifications. Bureaucracy needs the ‘i’s dotted and ‘t’s crossed. “Nothing to worry about.” 

JJ takes pause, and still doesn’t make for the door of his office. Like she needs to elaborate somehow, now that Hotch has left a small crack of an opening into his inner sanctum. 

“I know we all have cases that hit us too close to home,” she concedes, the start of a much longer speech. “Young boys, even the troublemakers --”

“No, JJ, I appreciate the concern,” Hotch interrupts, and does his best to appease her by keeping the hardness off his face. “But it’s nothing to do with Jack or facts we found. It’s a personal matter.” 

“Of course, it’s just --”

Years ago, that would have been that and JJ would have left his office. But time and history have blurred their relationship from boss and subordinate to friends and family. Personal matter no longer meant private, it meant a switch in barriers. It meant family. 

She steps closer to his desk.

“You are always there for us, for these kinds of cases.” Her blue eyes bore into his, a technique Hotch recognizes as a fellow parent, to get through and make sure the person they are speaking to is really listening. “But, do you ever allow anyone to be there for you?”

He sighs through his nose. She’s not going to let this go, he can see that. No profiling needed.

“Sit.” 

Closing the file, Hotch resigns himself to the fact that this was something inadvertently he’d been wanting to talk to JJ about, anyway. She had been a profiler for the team almost nearly as long as she’d been communications liaison, now, and although this could have waited for her performance review -- it tied into what was bothering him. The small smile of victory, and relief, slips from her lips as she sees the serious set to Hotch’s mouth. JJ is one hell of a profiler. The best ones did it without even knowing they were doing so.

“Wait… is this about me?” she looks mildly scandalized to even have to suggest it. Although really, it shouldn’t surprise her too much. Hotch knows he isn’t great about making things about himself, even when the conversation is supposed to be. So he gathers his thoughts, with such little prep time, and decides to start with where this whole debacle had begun. 

In the car. When JJ had made her off-handed comment.

“The events of our lives shape us, and bring us here. As they do for everyone. It’s a technique that also helps us narrow down our profiles. How we were raised, what he have gone through. Heredity factors.”

JJ is staring hard at him, now. Deciphering the point, attempting to look ten steps ahead when Hotch has barely revealed three.

“You’re talking about Nature versus Nurture.” 

“You could say that,” Hotch acquiesces. “In a lot of ways we are our parent’s lineage. Unless we choose not to be. I only became a prosecutor because my father was. But now, here I am.”

The parent’s lineage is a direct drop towards the conversation in the car. Both JJ and Hotch are intelligent adults, as is the entire team. Sometimes the most direct reference isn’t needed. Sometimes a key phrase is what links the mind back to the moment, replays it in the mind’s eye so it becomes fresh and there’s no confusion. Fewer words can connect more than a thousand, Hotch had learned that early on as well. 

“I was… I was speaking more toward behavior,” JJ elaborates, still unaware where the conversation is going. How this has correlated to Hotch’s odd mood. 

“I know you were. And my statement still stands,” Hotch answers plainly. “I’ve noticed that sometimes agents, myself included, let bias dictate their profiles. And we need to stray away from that kind of influence.” 

JJ’s slight frown becomes defensive. Confused, but not angry. She’s learning quickly, Hotch notices. 

“Nature and Nurture are a part of standard psychology practices. With a lot of information and testing to back it up. Spence could give you statistics for days, I’m sure. It’s proven.”

“Yes, as a theory. Not as a rule.” Hotch continues, giving her that steady, stern but gentle tone that borders on chastisement. 

“I have yet to see an exception to that rule, when it comes to children of violent offenders,” JJ buckles down. “If they are the target of that violence, it warps them, Hotch. Plain and simple. How do they recover from something like that?” She’s shaking her head, getting caught up in the emotional aspect of it all over again. The hopelessness of its appearance.

“Any way they can.” 

Now he has JJ’s attention, because she hears the shift as soon as it forms on his tongue. The air heavier, hazy like an old memory.

“Sometimes they leave home as soon as they graduate just to escape the situation, and spend their whole adult lives trying to eradicate it. By burying themselves in, say… Law School.” JJ’s stare goes vacant, and Hotch at least has the decency to look away from her as he continues. He has a point to make. “So they can put away people like their abuser. But when that’s not enough, prosecuting after the fact, they start to focus on ways to catch the offenders in the act. Save victims in the real world. Use what they know from experience, but in the field, so no one else slips through the cracks.”

“H-Hotch, I--”

“If there was a file on me as detailed as these on my desk, and there probably is somewhere in this building,” Hotch barrels on, not letting JJ get a word in edgewise. “Then the first seventeen years of my homelife would look nearly identical to John David Bidwell's childhood.” He didn’t need to go into further detail, though bullet points from the case all bust flash between them in neon. 

Strict, domineering father figure. Church every Sunday, as a control and appearance factor. At home: a constant deluge of beratements, fear, shouting and fists. Something was always wrong, someone always deserved a punishment. No one was safe. They did what they could, followed the rules to a tee, but that wasn't always enough.

They survived, because that's all that they could do.

And he had.

“If you really require a physical, living exception to the rule, I’d like to hope we know each other well enough that you would consider myself that exception.” It’s the closest he’s ever come to admitting what happened in his father’s household, and Hotch knows that’s as far as he will let it go. No elaboration needed. “Even if I can be ‘a bit of a bully’.” 

Stunned and shocked, the last part probably wasn’t needed. But, again, Hotch has a point he’s trying to get across -- and he wants it to make an impact.

“Hotch, I’m so sorry,” JJ croaks out, and he still can’t look right at her.

“Don’t be, you didn’t know,” he soothes her, swallowing a little hard. “No one on the team does, not even Dave.”

“--No one?”

“The only one who probably did was Gideon, but not because I told him. He was just that good of a profiler. You will be, too, one day -- I see that level of potential in you. Profilers are always learning, evolving, developing their skills.” Hotch finally turns his head, and catches sight of JJ with her eyes bright and her nose red. Her tell-tale physical signs that she’s been holding back tears. “Let this be one of those moments.” 

She nods, wipes at her eyes discreetly, and collects herself with more strength than Hotch or anyone else ever gives her credit for.

“Was he ever convicted? Your father?”

“No,” Hotch says, level. “He died of colon cancer ten years ago. He never even met Jack. Neither did my mother, though I am sorry for that.” 

Silence stretches in the wake of Hotch’s reveal, and JJ only breaks it when she can’t seem to keep it back any more.

“You’re… you’re not really a bully. You know.”

“Yes, I am,” Hotch tells her, the smallest traces of a smile smoothing the sharp edges of his face. “But only when I choose to be. When it matters.” 

JJ huffs out a watery laugh, scoots to the edge of her seat as if to stand, but hesitates once more.

“You didn’t have to tell me. But thank you. I’m… I’m glad you felt that you could.” 

The sentiment warms the inside of Hotch’s chest, ice cold from the memories he never dredged up if he could afford it. It helps ease them back under the floorboards of his mind, where they belong.

“Thank you for listening.” 

She was right. He didn’t confide in anyone, and he doesn’t know if this will help him -- more than likely, not -- but it helped JJ. And that’s what mattered. His team. His family. Growing, learning, becoming all the better for it. The best people he had ever known. 

The family he had chosen for himself.

“Goodnight, Hotch.”

“Night, JJ.”

-end scene-

[monstersinthecosmos]

The quote you posted by Marius ... "I have lived lies. I have done it again and again. I live lies because I cannot endure the weakness of anger, and I cannot admit the irrationality of love."

What do you think he meant by "I cannot admit the irrationality of love"?

I must be super stupid cause I have no clue. Like is he saying he fears love? Thinks love as a sort of weakness/inconvenience? Is he having an allergic reaction to love in general?

If possible.... Can you break down the entire quote?

!!!!!! This is one of my fav Marius quotes, I’d love to talk about it.

So I noticed this actually comes up in Loustat as well, there’s a part in TVL where Lestat says his love for Louis is humiliating and I think about this a lot. I think it’s your choice if you ascribe this to Anne Rice’s own feelings and philosophy that got woven into her work, or we can also say that it’s another way that Lestat and Marius are incredibly alike. 

Lestat says “the sheer excitement was excruciating, and the love I felt for him was positively humiliating.” which has always stuck with me!!! And in Lestat’s case I think it can be read as “I love Louis so much that I will act like a fucking moron” etc. LOL. I wonder for him if it means he’s overwhelmed by it, senseless, unintelligible, etc. 

It also comes up with Akasha in QOTD: “She loved him and it humiliated her, and so she sought to hurt him. And she had.”

And speaking of humiliation, these are a couple moments where Marius mentions humiliation in Blood & Gold:

His feelings @ Mael lol -  “I was trembling with this uncharacteristic and humiliating rage.”  

When Armand is abducted by zealots (callback to Marius being abducted by zealots) - “But that was gone. All was gone. Amadeo was gone. My paintings were gone. And there came again the desperation, the bitterness, the humiliation. I had not thought that such things could be done to me. I had not thought that I could be so miserable. I had believed myself so powerful, so very clever, so very beyond this abject grief.”

This is about Pandora leaving him - “I was too distressed, too perfectly miserable. I didn't want to see her companion, and when I thought of banging on the doors of her house, I found it too utterly humiliating.”  

So I’m bringing this up because I think it’s kind of getting at the same point. And forgive me if my aromantic ass is missing something LOL but it feels like Anne often wrote about the humiliation of being vulnerable, and there's a throughline of loving people feeling vulnerable. I think it’s especially potent in a character like Marius, and again since he and Lestat are so alike it makes sense that Lestat feels that way sometimes and it came up in other books. Not to talk about Lestat too much LOL, we just have a lot of material to work with from him. I think they’re both people who have always been rebellious and with that need for independence comes the need to know things and to be self sufficient. Modern emotional health and Brene Brown will tell you that vulnerability is a GIFT but when you’re this fucked up it’s hard! It’s scary! 

Like these are also a couple other things Lestat says in TVL that illustrate this point, too, when Armand is going nuts on all the books:  “I hate those who make me feel fear, those who know things that I need to know, who have that power over me.”   and  "Every word was received by a secret, humiliating curiosity and vulnerability." 

And going back to the Marius quote! I guess the point I’m making is that Lestat and Marius are people who feel insecure when they don’t have complete self possession or control, and to me this is one of Marius’s HUGE character beats and something he’s really been struggling with for his whole life. 

The quote “I have lived lies. I have done it again and again. I live lies because I cannot endure the weakness of anger, and I cannot admit the irrationality of love.” is part of a bigger moment where he’s frustrated by his own anger and stubbornness. This is the whole section: 

Avicus looked directly at me. He appeared quiet in his heart and genuinely moved by my words. But what was the use? I said no more. My proud calm was suddenly broken. The anger returned along with its weakness. I remembered the hymns of the grove, and I wanted to move against Mael, for all the ugliness of it, to quite literally tear him limb from limb. Would Avicus move to save him? It was likely. But what if he did not? And what if I proved stronger than both of them, I who had drunk from the Queen? I looked at Mael. He wasn't afraid of me, which I found interesting. And my pride returned. I could not stoop to a common physical battle, especially one which might become hideously awkward and ugly, one which I might not win. No, I was too wise for it. I was too good of heart. I was Marius, who slew the Evil Doer, and this was Mael, a fool. They made to walk away through the garden and I could find no words to say to them, but Avicus turned to me and said quickly, "Farewell, Marius. I thank you and I will remember you." And I found myself struck by the words. "Farewell, Avicus," I answered. And I listened as they disappeared into the night. I sat there, feeling a crushing loneliness. I looked at my many bookcases, and at my writing table. I looked at my inkstand. I looked at the paintings on the walls. I should have tried to make peace with Mael, surely, to have Avicus as my friend. I should go after them both. I should implore them to remain with me. We had so much more to say to one another. I needed them as they needed each other. As I needed Pandora. But I lived the lie. I lived it out of anger. This is what I'm trying to tell you. I have lived lies. I have done it again and again. I live lies because I cannot endure the weakness of anger, and I cannot admit the irrationality of love. Oh, the lies that I have told myself and others. I knew it yet I didn't know.

Marius’s whole schtick is that he sort of pretends to be this wise calm collected dude and he’s actually the biggest emotional mess. He is THE pettiest bitch. And part of this is like, him sticking to his culture, trying to be ~the spirit of his age~ is trying to always come back to logic and reason. He tries to like, logic his way out of having feelings and it just doesn’t work!!!! HE HAS LIVED LIES, HE KNOWS IT DOES NOT WORK. This comes up over and over in his book, that he is frustrated with his own anger, that he ruins his relationships, that he fucks up, and when he is being irrational & emotional he doesn’t like the person he becomes. He’s humiliated at the idea that he is a person who has feelings and needs.

(See also: my fav thing to bring up but him hitting Armand for being sad lol like he’s trying to TRAIN it out of someone else even though he knows he’s living a lie.)

So this moment with Avicus, he’s like desperately lonely and WANTS Avicus’s company and friendship. He wants to be able to love Avicus. But he’s got so much fucking unresolved rage @ Mael that he can’t be around him at all and doesn’t know how to navigate his own messy emotions.

And really any time Mael shows up, as funny as it is to be like “lmao Marius is the pettiest bitch, he makes Mael sound like such a moron”, please don’t forget that Mael is the closest thing Marius has to a maker at this point. Mael is the symbol of Marius’s rape and nonconsensual turning, and his ritual sacrifice. Mael brought Marius to his own murder!!!!!!!!!! Mael is essentially his rapist.  And someone like Marius, who doesn’t know how to admit he has feelings, incessantly tries to tell himself (and everyone else) that Mael is a blundering fool instead of having to confront this extremely real hurt. 

As easy as it is to write off Marius’s bullshit as “toxic masculinity” or “man who won’t go to therapy” (which is a completely valid read LOL) it’s also very much steeped in trauma. And like, as much as I want to allow Marius a space to exist in his own world and talk about him in 360 degrees, he’s also not real. He’s a character in a book that survives the whole series as an unmoving object. Marius’s ability to heal or grow or be better is not really the point (but I do think there’s clues in canon that he can make it there; I think him in the PL trilogy is very much a New Marius!); he can survive the entire series as a table setting to represent toxic masculinity and there’s no obligation to heal. But the series asks us to spend time with monsters, to see the good in bad people, to ask if we are all our worst deeds, to ask what makes us human, and I think it’s good to take these characters seriously as wounded people making mistakes. 

The tragedy of it, too, is that Marius is just grinding ALL his emotions down in the process. He cannot allow himself to feel his own anger, and in the process of burying it, he also can’t feel love. He cannot live in this standard where it’s okay to embrace the irrationality of love but not the irrationality of anger. Throughout the whole series, every time he loses his temper and lashes out he just immediately feels humiliated for it and yet he can’t find a middle ground where he can just allow himself to feel things. And he cannot find it in himself to forgive Mael or confront these uncomfortable emotions, which means he cannot have Avicus and means he’s doomed himself to more isolation. 

Feelings are not rational! They make you act like a fool! They make you open the floodgates to other feelings you do not want to feel! 

I just think he’s such a fascinating character because like, he knows! He knows! He knows he does this! He hates himself for it! He doesn’t know how to get better! He knows he’s a fuckup! He’s lonely but if he tries to love someone it’ll destroy him!!! 

[unexpectedreylo]

TLJ Revisited

TFA did not blow me away when it came out in 2015.  As a long-suffering prequels fan I didn’t like the anti-prequel dog whistles in the months leading up to the film, I didn’t like a lot of the crazed fanboys gushing how it was the best SW movie ever and thank goodness they wrested it away from that horrible George Lucas.  I didn’t like that Disney took Lucas’s outlines and for the most part trashed them, which publicly made Lucas unhappy.  While watching the flick, I was like a bitter ex noticing every flaw of the new trophy wife.  The story structure was not nearly as good as any of Lucas’s six films.  It was too derivative of ANH.  And worst of all, I had a real yucky feeling about what this trilogy was all about.  There was a nihilistic subtext to the whole thing:  Luke failed as a master, Han and Leia failed as parents, and the only scion of the Skywalker clan was almost certainly doomed for death since he was a bad guy and killed Han Solo.  It seemed like a setup so that new heroine Rey would essentially take over the story.  I couldn’t understand why it seemed I was the only person who seemed to notice this.

Then, five years ago, TLJ came out and for two years I had hope, even certainty, that maybe I’d misread the trajectory the trilogy was taking.

Dammit, I hate being right.

That said, TLJ remains something of a slightly nicked masterpiece.  It is the best film of the sequel trilogy, that’s for sure.  I liked the film when I first saw it.  I was pleasantly surprised and well, we all know how I feel about Reylo.  Yet when I look at what I wrote about the film right after seeing it, it seems like I was still pretty tough on it.  I think in retrospect I was still annoyed by a lot of aspects of TFA and the story elements it introduced.  

So five years on, I thought I would take an honest reassessment of the film.  The good, the great, the bad, and the ugly.

First I want to address the perpetual controversy around TLJ.  The curious thing about TLJ is how much anger it still inspires, to the point of irrationality.  It’s one thing if it’s not your favorite SW film or if you didn’t love it.  It’s one thing if you have problems with it.  But I make no secret of what I think of TROS and I still don’t hate everything about it nor do I spend all of my time complaining about it.  It’s almost as though a lot of the narrative and characterization problems TFA raised were ignored when the film came out and then when they inevitably materialized in TLJ, Rian Johnson got blamed for them.  Luke exiled himself to that island for a reason and Johnson had to find a pretty extreme reason to explain why Luke would take that drastic of an action.  The Luke in exile thing was one of the few aspects of Lucas’s outlines that actually made into the movies; he was set to go Col. Kurtz regardless.  But angry fans don’t care about any of this.  They think Johnson is some iconoclast who’s just tearing down Luke because he can.  Mark Hamill’s public complaints about it didn’t help.  The rest of it was anger over dashed theories over where TFA was going to go next.  Really, it’s nuts.  Who gets this excised over a movie?  How does any honest person sincerely believe Rian Johnson is a mean, hateful person who only wanted to destroy someone’s cherished memories of Star Wars?  

Okay, on to the movie itself.

A lot of what I still find flawed about the film comes from what was flawed about TFA.  The whole galactic set up made no sense to me and while Jason Fry’s TLJ book explains it to some degree, that explanation is missing from the film.  Lucas and Co. were great at worldbuilding while telling a story about a core of characters at the same time.  The sequel guys, not so much.  It’s just Empire vs. Rebels 2.0 without going into the how's or why's.  It still makes little sense to me is Luke saying he didn’t want to be found, he just wanted to live out his days on Ahch-To, yet there’s a map to find him.   

Another problem is how TLJ picks up immediately after TFA.  Johnson didn’t really have much of a choice because of how TFA ended.  So unlike the other SW films, there’s no narrative “breathing” room with this one.  There’s no opportunity for the characters to grow or relationships to build or even for the characters to process what has happened to them.  Compare that with TESB, where you can see Luke being a committed Rebel or a blossoming relationship between Han and Leia.  Or with AOTC, where Obi-Wan has been master to padawan Anakin for 10 years and Padme has become a senator.  I think that serves the Star Wars story better.  This way makes the ST feel like a movie adaptation of a really long book they broke into two or three parts.  And because Johnson had no idea what they were going to do in IX, his hand was forced to put everyone still alive back in their corners at the end of the film.

If I wasn’t going to include more of Rey and Kylo Ren, I would’ve included less of the rest of crew with the exception of Rey’s scenes with Luke.  Simply put, Reylo is by far the most interesting aspect of the sequel trilogy and TLJ’s scenes with them are so compelling it’s easy to lose patience with the other threads.  I don’t mind the Canto Bight stuff or Poe’s catfight with Holdo.  I love Rose.  But there seems to be a requirement that every sequel film must firmly focus on the Rebels because that’s who we’re cheering for.  The problem is that in TLJ, you have two elder Skywalkers with a smaller role and their only scion is “the bad guy” who has less screen time than any of the major heroes.  This continued the problem I had with TFA, that the Skywalkers were kind of side characters in their own saga.  Johnson tries to take Finn and Poe and craft actual story arcs for them but it was always a little unclear as to what their role was in the bigger scheme of things.  I guess we’re supposed to understand Poe is something of Leia’s heir apparent in the Rebel leadership but he’s also the house flyboy.  As I posted in my original review, Poe is Wedge Antilles with a bigger role.  Finn has a kinda clingy relationship with Rey and this bromance with Poe but he has no real connection with Luke, Leia, or Han.  There are good things about his arc in this movie but it doesn’t answer the question, what’s he doing there?  What does he bring to the table?  I wish they’d kept the stormtrooper rebellion in this film or in TROS.  And there’s no indication at all he has any affinity for the Force.  There seems to have been insufficient communication all around as to who these characters are, what they’re supposed to be doing or what they're supposed to become.

I’ll never understand why the sequels avoided any “alien” seen in episodes I-VI like the plague.  I never found the designs in the ST to be anywhere near as good, even factoring in the Rick Baker masks in ANH.

And if I may be so nitpicky, I don’t like the use of “big ass door.”  It seems too much our world, not the GFFA.

Finally, I find it interesting that after noting both sides use war profiteers and Rose delivers an eat the rich (profiteer) speech about Canto Bight, we got a might makes right conclusion where it’s all about kicking the bad guy’s butt.  The war’s on, baby!  Look, if your message is the bad guys are evil and it’s a cancer that needs to be removed from the galaxy, stick with that.  The other stuff is kind of a distraction that ultimately doesn’t mean anything to the narrative.

Okay, on to what I like/love about TLJ.  Namely, it’s a brash, bold, beautiful film that in a lot of ways was just what Star Wars needed.  I really worried this was going to be TESB Karaoke, and thank goodness Johnson had more sense than that.  It’s a movie that parallels TESB and AOTC with occasional nods to each film; Johnson understands the difference between homage and just repeating what some other movie did.  TLJ still feels like its own thing while adhering to the rhythm of the prior trilogies.

Johnson’s wisest decision was to get Adam Driver out of the Kylo Ren mask and take full advantage of Driver’s talent.  Sure, it probably made the marketing department mad but man, what a performance.  Today, I think that the timing of the film’s release and the trophy crowd’s disdain for Star Wars other than for the technical stuff, as well as other factors, hosed Driver out of a deserved supporting actor nomination.  Kylo Ren was popular before TLJ but this film turned him into one of the most memorable and complex characters in the nine film saga.  It also IMO made Adam Driver a bonafide star.

But Johnson is one of those “actor’s directors,” coaxing very good to terrific performances from his other cast members.  Daisy Ridley’s Rey in TLJ is absolutely luminous:  emotional, curious, occasionally funny, vulnerable, impulsive, compassionate, and in the heat of battle, feral.  In her scenes with Kylo/Ben, she meets him toe-to-toe whether as enemies or as allies with the hint of something else brewing between them.  As I’ll get to in my upcoming Reylo Heresies, I think we tend to forget that she commits wholeheartedly to Rey, which for a whole list of reasons isn’t an easy thing to do.  

Well, here’s another heresy for you...I think TLJ remains up there with TESB as Mark Hamill’s best turn as Luke Skywalker.  For all of Hamill’s kvetching and fanboy rage their hero was besmirched by that dastardly Johnson, Hamill did a great job.  Luke’s scenes with Rey are great and his cranky reluctance to embrace his destiny were well performed.  His great sadness at his own downfall and his wise wariness of a quickie conversion for Kylo add new depths to his character.  His final duel with Kylo is an amazing cap to his legend.  A lot of old fans like me were never happy that the ST set up our gang as failures and Luke’s behavior seemed a little harsh to me the first time I saw the movie.  Then through subsequent viewings it didn’t seem so bad.  I guess some fans never got over their initial shock.

Like I said, Johnson admirably sets up character arcs for newbies Poe and Finn while introducing new characters like Rose, DJ, and Admiral Holdo.  I’m happy to see Laura Dern in anything.  What a get.  Same deal for oddball Benedicio Del Toro as DJ.  Kelly Marie Tran got too much stick from idiots on the internet; her Rose is a delightful, charming character who teaches Finn what heroism really means and how to embrace something bigger than himself.  Domhall Gleeson gets some fun moments as General Hux, Gwendoline Christie drops by for a compelling final battle with Finn, and BB-8 is as adorable as ever.

This was Carrie Fisher’s last actual performance in Star Wars and there’s something fragile and vulnerable about her turn in this movie.  Few things can beat Luke’s reunion with Leia on Crait for pure poignancy.

Johnson also excels at visuals.  It’s a beautifully shot movie, whether its the harsh interiors of the Supremacy, Snoke’s red throne room, Ahch-To, or Crait’s salt plains.  The scene where Kylo and Rey touch hands is one of the greatest demonstrations of the need for connection and belonging I’ve seen in any movie.  I also love the part where Holdo goes into hyperspace right through the Supremacy, splitting it apart just as Kylo and Rey “come apart” and the Skywalker lightsaber is split in two.  I could go on and on about the many great shots in this movie.

Thematically, TLJ is very much in line with Johnson’s brand of populism.  While the Skywalkers struggle with the weight of legacy, Johnson elevates “regular” Rebels like Rose and establishes that Rey--everyone’s last hope-- is...nobody.  TLJ makes the case that anyone could come from anywhere and be a hero.  Even the “villain” could be heroic for a minute or two if he lets himself.

It also makes the case that the purpose of legends is to inspire those people in the first place.  This is demonstrated at the end of TLJ, unique among SW films in that it doesn’t feature the main characters in its coda.  A slave kid on Canto Bight is inspired by Luke’s story, telling his friends about it as they play with their action figures, then holding up his broom stick like a lightsaber.  TLJ is unique in that it’s the only SW film to basically comment on SW itself.  

As for Reylo, I think TLJ accomplished two things by emphasizing and building upon their relationship.  One is that it made each character more interesting.  Prior to TLJ I found Kylo the most intriguing of the newbies but I wasn’t terribly invested in him or Rey until this film.  The other is putting them together opened so many possibilities.  It’s tragic in retrospect that TROS didn’t take greater advantage of them.  Reylo isn’t just hot or sexy, it’s also mythic.

So that’s my look back at TLJ.  Stay tuned for the heresies!

[danvssomethingorother]

Resident Evil Vendetta is a really stupid and ridiculous movie. I love it but it is.

Yet that movie did a much better job at explaining Leon’s feeling and trauma of losing random people we the audience ultimately don’t care about.

Comparing it side by side to Chris in RE 6, it’s like Shakespeare himself wrote it. Why? Let me explain.

1) the simple fact that there is a quiet moment where Leon walks into a morgue and has to put these men down. It’s more effective at bringing emotions since we know Leon had to do this in 2 and raccoon city is something he has been holding onto. Not to mention this isn’t long after Adam and we actually got to feel why Adam was important to Leon. It’s not even about the men he puts down, you feel Leon has distanced himself from people for a long time, it’s the fact this is something he has to constantly keep doing that pulls him down

Chris on the other hand, is in a call of duty loud action scene. He very irrationally walked into Carla’s trap and there is no difference to these particular dudes dying then there was the loud scenes directly before this where you were just killing people. There are no parallels to trauma Chris had in the manor or Africa. There is no sense this is something Chris constantly has to do. There is no quiet reflection. With Leon we didn’t need to know the nameless people to understand his pain, with Chris it’s like we have never seen this reaction from him unless he knew them personally and well he didn’t know these people. They were more nameless soldiers Chris is always around. He’s always seeing nameless guys die and unlike Leon, he has never acted like this before

2) Leon doesn’t dramatically disappear for months, he took paid time off. Everyone knows where he is, he isn’t missing. He just needs time to reflect and then he will be back in the game. He isn’t abandoning his life. He isn’t hiding. He is taking a break and reflecting, it’s not out of character and out of no where

Chris is drinking for months, didn’t complete his mission, no one knew where he was apparently and piers has to pretty much force him to come back. We don’t have a direct understanding why he’s acting like this either. He didn’t act like this when he lost Jill. He has family we the audience know he adores, he has friends we the audience know he can go to. He has never once in the series acted like this. New behavior has to be developed, Chris is not a real person and fictional characters have to have some explanation why they do things. There is no explanation for this behind this.

3) when Rebecca and Chris ask him for help, it isn’t because he is finishing anything. He finished the mission he had and his intel really doesn’t mean he has to go. There’s no proof he’s drowning in sorrow as Chris says, he has one bottle of alcohol and he’s mad because yeah I would be too if work friends busted into my vacation. Chris is trying to goad him on not trying to show him what he’s become like piers was. He ultimately agrees to come not for revenge or because he has to but because he’s a caring person who finally gives in to his compassion and need to help. At the end of the movie he is more hopeful about the future then he was when he started because he got a chance to reflect by fighting monsters. Listen I already said vendetta is stupid but it gives an attempt at giving the characters depth and arcs and I thought Leon was pretty good in it. Chris was good in it fuck especially compared to 6.

Chris is literally an alcoholic. The bar tender is refusing him drinks because he comes here everyday and gets too drunk. He is literally feeling sorry for himself and it’s not explicitly stated why. It’s not out of compassion or a sense of loyalty or duty he agrees to help Piers, it’s irrational anger. Something he holds throughout the game and yeah I’m gonna say it, his unstable anger issues are the reason Piers ultimately dies and he literally learns nothing at the end of the game. This isn’t development or exploring trauma, this is just the writers not knowing what to do with Chris, ignoring any previous actions or characteristics and just making him a cut out action hero type because they didn’t really give a shit about this campaign.

[angelsdean]

nah dude i did read it all! very interesting tbh, thanks for indulging me. and taking the time lol. i do slightly disagree with a couple of points but i think that's mostly because i DO sort of view dean as a... i don't wanna say bad person, but definitely not good. and tbh i like him for that. i will say: i do think dean became the angry man in the house, because it definitely wasn't sam or cas; but i think there's a lot of nuance to it too, because for me becoming and being haunted overlap so much for dean specifically.

i do think dean was at least trying to be better, but i think we all sort of agree his journey def got cut short. not to mention i think it's hard to analyze dean as character (and john by proxy) because of the sheer layers spn has; ie is john abusive because of him or because of god; is dean like that because it's inherent (used loosely) or because of god, etc etc etc. not to mention these guys are NOT real people so we can't exactly put real standards on them - plus, they're so far removed from the fictional society as well since they're hunters. just a lot of things go into it tbh. like would dean still be the same if they weren't hunters? is john inherently violent or prone to using that kind of discipline against his sons? (the song remains the same says no, but i still wonder...) is anger inherent to dean or was it all circumstantial?

and i do agree that sometimes people ARE needlesly harsh, but sometimes stuff is just true and. as a deanlover. hes my GUY. i will say that i do think he crosses over into abusive behavior a lot, especially in the later seasons.

about the jack/children comment; i agree that they're isolated, but to me that's still... johncore if you will. and dean is very patient with children, i will give him that.

john&dean nuance is all very kind of complicated and i don't like john much either, believe me, but... dean was still threatening jack and pointing guns at him. to me, at least, that is the same as john and the canonical-not-canonical abuse implications. obviously there are differences, but i think of it like this: even if most of the bad things dean does are mirrors of john, i think the good parts are also mirrors of him. because like you said: john was not a flat character. and he loved those boys. he did very very wrong by them, but he loved them. maybe it didn't count for much in the end, but i think it did.

overall, i think I'm just the type of person to not like woobifying my fav characters (which is completely me, no hate to those who do) so i kinda get the ick when people erase and or defend dean's bad/abusive actions, because ultimately that's a big part of him, yknow?

(there's also the sam&dean dynamic which i havent seen you post a lot about, but in regards to sam and how dean treats him, espcially in the laters seasons... well, i won't bore you with all my thoughts about that can of worms cause then this ask would never end.)

thanks for answering, and making it so long lol. i love reading people's thoughts and i hope you read all this, too.

hi again! sorry i'm about to go to bed so i might not address everything here, but i think it's okay if we disagree on some things and interpret things differently.

i wrote a little bit more abt dean + john here and where i think they parallel and diverge.

i guess for me it's just that i don't think a lot of dean's actions, even the "wrong" ones make him a bad person. i think people can act imperfect and irrationally sometimes, especially in high stress situations, and then later regret and feel remorse for them. and i think dean is suffering through a lot himself and deserves a little grace, compassion, and forgiveness.

i also don't like when characters are woobified. which is why i also am not a fan of people acting like sam (and sometimes cas) are the perpetual victims to dean, as if they also do not make questionable choices and actions that have consequences. or also can just, disregard or fight against dean's actions too. they are not powerless or weak.

lastly i'd say, i don't think dean HAS to be the angry man in the house. you say you think he became the angry man because you don't think it was sam or cas but i guess i'd ask, why do any of them have to be the angry man in the house? why does there have to be one out of the three of them? for me, the angry man IS always john, even when he's no longer there. especially when he's no longer there. he's a ghost and he's in both dean and sam. (early seasons sam was very hotheaded and prone to anger too and paralleled john a lot). i think yes, being haunted by john can overlap with acting like john, but acting like john, reverting back to internalized habits is, at it's core to me, the manifestation of that haunting. that is john. and dean has to fight against that ghost. but anyway, for me, dean can never really become john, and therefore the angry man, because the angry man isn't someone you become. the term has morphed in this fandom but when i use it and talk about it it's in its original context, where it's literally the father figure. first the you grow up with him. then you are haunted by him when he's gone, still feel his presence. and then the cycle continues by inviting another man like him into your home. so in that context, dean (and sam) is the child who grew up w/ the angry man. and the child in the quote is a woman, so there is no becoming the angry man for her. i think, even still, regardless of gender, it's...idk maybe a little cruel? to say that a child that grew up with an angry man in their home is somehow destined to become that same man. that's not what the original quote meant and i don't think it's the framework we should have when thinking about dean and his complex relationship with john and his traumatic childhood.

(also just thinking abt the question of if dean would be the same + angry if they weren't hunters and while we can only take it w/ a grain of salt the show does show us two scenarios of dean not being a hunter: dean smith and djinn dream dean. and both times he seems pretty normal, well adjusted, if not a little sad and lonely)

i think the chuck stuff does complicate things and pose more questions but if we believe that chuck really does like to watch his favorite show rather than micromanage (set up the obstacle course and let them run it as cas framed it), then it's possible not everything was a chuck play-by-play. also i have to say, i personally think all of the young!john stuff we see in spn was massively angel-manipulated. (angels love their illusions and simulations after all). john felt just a little too polished and goody-two-shoes for me in those flashbacks.

anyways, this once again got long, sorry. but i think we might just have to disagree abt some of these things. which is okay!! but i definitely don't think dean is perfect or has never done anything wrong. i just love him despite those things. and when i look at his whole situation + all his past trauma it's very hard for me to blame him or be angry with him for his actions because like, dude is struggling so hard. he needs everything to stop, needs a minute to breathe, and then needs a ton of therapy and maybe some vitamin d and 8 hours of sleep lol

[tookiepuff]

Bridgerton Season 2

Bridgerton’s season 2 has finally hit our screens and now that I have binged it entirely I have had a lot of thoughts about it.

Starting with the things I liked:

1. The chemistry between Anthony and Kate - the pining, the sexual tension, the entire enemies to lovers trope going on between them, the fact that Kate’s mere presence and smell makes Anthony lose control *immaculate* . I had my reservations with this pairing but let me tell you, they 👏 did 👏 not disappoint 👏

2. Anthony’s Character Development- Anthony was one character I really did not like in season 1, but in this season the more we got to know about him, how complex his character is, what he actually thinks before taking any decision whether it hurts him or not, how traumatic it had been for him to fit in the role of the Viscount that he completely changed himself gave me a completely new perspective. Anthony’s story really revealed that he is not a mere scornful being but actually a character with irrationally different dimensions. He is a person who can be loved but at the same time you can despise his actions too.

3. The Sharma Sisters - While I had my reservations for Kate, the more I watched, the more I started to love her. I absolutely adored her, the wit, the way she cares and the way she caries herself. She was star of the show and she shined the brightest! Edwina started off as a naive character but even within the eight episode storyline she grew a lot and that made me like her a lot. Lastly, the bond that the sisters shared, it was heartwarming to see how these two handled their relationship even when it turned tumultuous.

4. Bridgerton Family Bond - I mean, the show is literally named on them but still I enjoyed their bonding, the little banters between the siblings, the family looking out for each other and even calling out when they were being moronic. Edmond Bridgerton’s storyline gave more depth and clarity to the characters especially Anthony and Violet. I hope we get to see more of him in the future seasons too.

5. Benedict Bridgerton - Thankfully he was saved from running in the league of being the most annoying twats this season. Benedict was wholesome and hilarious, he did have some development in regards to speaking more about his insecurities and trying to do what makes him happy. I look forward to his season and really wish to see how much more he will grow. I do hope that the show explores the queer spectrum in the regency era with his character considering how much they have already deviated from the books but whatever they do I just want his character to be happy!

Now moving to things I did not enjoy:

1. Eloise Bridgerton - honestly I never thought that Eloise would end up on my dislike list considering she was one of my favourite characters in season one. The lack of character development and the Sybill Crawley-fication of her storyline seemed too forced to me. Coming to her fight with Penelope, to a certain point Penelope was more right about her about only saying things instead of actually making them happen. The fact that it took her so long to realise that Penelope was whistledown only because she actually listened to Penelope talk seems more like that she did not even pay attention to Penelope in the past! I’ve seen people calling Penelope the bad friend because she wrote the article about Eloise but that was the best way she could save her friend. She saw how scared Eloise was and tried her best to save her, why should she reveal the real identity of lady whistledown when assuming that identity made her independent in her own way! To a certain point I understand Eloise’s anger but the way she ambushed Penelope and even going to the extent of calling her an insipid wallflower. Ma’am kindly reflect on how much respect you have given to your friendship with Pen! It is sad to see the wasted potential that Eloise’s character was this season.

2. The whole Kathony and Edwina situation - Edwina’s anger was justified at some point, both were right in their own perspective but then it kept on dragging and dragging and just lost its authenticity because after a certainty Kate’s character’s sacrifices and insecurities of being in debt to her mother also surfaced which gave more solidity to why she did the things that happened.

3. Kathony Development - While the pining and sexual tension between Anthony and Kate were immaculate I really wanted to see their relationship develop like the way Daphne and Simon’s was shown in season 1. By the time they actually end up together the season was on the brink of ending.

4. Colin Bridgerton - Man, this guy did only one thing good this season and that was being a supportive brother to Benedict but apart from that he annoyed me a lot. The whole meeting Marina situation and then being a complete shit in the last episode when he was appalled by the idea of courting Pen ? Sir, respectfully fuck off. I know Pen and Colin are endgame but I wish Pen finds someone (Colin or no Colin) who actually appreciates her.

On the whole, I liked this season more than season 1. It was fun, entertaining, sexy and aesthetically pleasing. While a lot of deviations were made from the book series, since I have not read them I ended up enjoying season 2.

I look forward to the story of the next sibling and if the show runners go by the book order then it should be Benedict! I hope the next season is able to carry the hype of both the seasons!!

[borderlinereminders]

You’ve mentioned the “not now, later” approach for ignoring the urge to lash out at people. What do you do when the harmful urge you’re trying to ignore is the urge to ignore somebody and give them the silent treatment? Would the way to ignore that urge be to actively talk to them? Because I feel like I’d just say something hurtful if I did (sorry if this doesn’t make much sense, it’s 4am and I haven’t slept)

Hi anon,

I think everyone is different, but for me personally, forcing myself to talk to someone that I don’t want to talk to for whatever reason is likely to make it worse.

I think it might be worth figuring out why you’re having the urge. Are you upset by something they’ve done? If so, I think when you’re ready, it’s good to talk to them about your feelings. Even if they haven’t done anything wrong and the feelings aren’t necessarily rational (they are still valid even if this is the case) , talking about feelings can help (though I encourage you to reassure them they haven’t done anything wrong if that’s the case).

Sometimes when I feel irrationally upset at something my partner has said/done, I still tell him that. One recent example is I got a fact wrong and he corrected me. And then kept explaining why it was wrong. Rationally, I knew that he just got excited and liked to talk about stuff he knows about. But emotionally, I felt crushed like he was just poking at how I was wrong and rubbing it in. I tried coping myself but my anger/upset just kept growing and I wanted to lash out and/or not talk to him. Eventually I communicated to him that “Hey. I know it wasn’t your intent and you didn’t do anything wrong but I’m feeling insecure. I know you didn’t mean it to come off this way but my brain is being rude and I feel upset you keep pointing out how I was wrong.”

Even though I knew he didn’t mean it like that, I still felt reassured when he told me he didn’t. And he hugged me and I was able to “let go” of the feelings and carry on our conversation.

It’s also valid to take space from people. While giving someone the silent treatment to punish them isn’t great, I think it’s valid to communicate that you need space or that you’re just not in the headspace to talk right now. Also, you don’t owe your energy and it’s okay to stop and figure things out. When my partner and I have argued in the past, I usually end up telling him I need space and that it’s not to punish him, but I need to get my thoughts in order and have a calm discussion when we’re both ready.

If it’s someone you really value in your life, I encourage you to save screenshots of messages from them that made you feel good that you can look back to when you need to.

I think not talking to them when you’re thinking you might lash out if you do is better in this case. If you’re up to it, I recommend the wise mind skill. I wrote a post on it here.

[angelicmichael]

renegade

Andy Dolan x reader

Summary: After another night where Hedwig abandons Andy; reader is left with no other choice but to try and help console him the best she can.

Words: 3.6k+

Warnings: vague mentions of drugs and being intoxicated, some jealous! reader, lotsss of angst, brief fluff, mainly hurt/comfort fic tbh hehe, major Hedwig slander oops, maybe a bit of unhealthy relationships (??), slowburn, some conflict/arguing 

A\N: hey y’all, hope u enjoy this hehe. I was mostly going for a angst and fluff vibe when I wrote this but it just turned into hurt/comfort so.. hopefully it’s still enjoyable !! :) this takes place sometime in episode three probably lol. ALSO fic is named after the song Taylor swift has recently been featured in 👉🏻👈🏻

The town, Eden; regardless of its beauty was a force to be reckoned with.

Being practically forced to live in a town that was so.. particular was never something you envisioned for your future in the past, but now you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else; even given the choice.

After all how could you exactly complain?

If you were to ask any person- (or any sane person that didn’t know of Eden that well) they would say that living here would sound like complete fucking heaven. A small coastal town, a tight knit community that was overly abundant with beautiful people and drugs seemed beyond euphoric.. and it was. Atleast for the first week or two.

Looking back; you were purely fucking naïve, and far too much of a optimist to assume shit wouldn’t crash or burn eventually.

Your first red flag was Hedwig.

She was one of the first people you met, and you two quickly hit it off and became close but.. things never exactly felt right with her, per say. Maybe it was because of how guarded she was, or because of the drugs she dealt.. it was hard to tell. However; Hedwig was completely fucking harmless compared to the man she introduced you too.

Andy Dolan.

Just like everyone in Eden; he was drop dead gorgeous but.. oddly hostile. At first you only saw him at parties, ones that you tried your best to avoid him at since you knew he had a notorious temper but, Hedwig being the great friend she is introduced you to him.. and that’s all it took.

You two quickly hit it off after that night (mostly because you were tired of Hedwig being your only friend and branching out never hurt anyone.. right?). Your attraction towards each other at first was strictly platonic, that was clear in how he treated you and how careful you were around him. It was almost stupid to try and not think about how pretty he was but letting your gaze linger on him for even more than two seconds felt erroneous.

You saw almost daily (or atleast every other day) how quick he was to anger and how cold he was to nearly everyone he met.. The only exception at this point was you and Hedwig but your sure if you were to even show a sign that you had romantic interest in him, he would drop you without a second thought. That thought alone was beyond fucking torturous but it wasn’t enough to stop you from daydreaming about how soft his hair or lips probably were. Ones that you doubt you would ever get the pleasure of touching but- atleast it was a nice distraction from how fucking weird Eden truly was.

Sure, it was beyond beautiful and the weather was fairly nice most days but that didn’t make up for peoples attitudes; and you weren’t referring to Andy’s. It wasn’t hard to tell that people were strangely secretive and cliquey, which only really left you with Hedwig and Andy for your friends. No matter how pretty she was, Hedwig was really only surface level friendly so you never particularly trusted her. That only left Andy (which wasn’t exactly any better when it came to being friendly but you knew he cherished your company, which was way more you could say about Hedwig).

However; it didn’t take too long for you and Andy to form a routine. Every weekend he would throw a party and you would stay with him after. The first time it happened, it was purely because you were far too fucked up to go anywhere else (which perhaps is also why Andy finally started being nice to you..) but after that, it was a question you never had the heart to say no too.

How could you? It’s not like he exactly had anyone else which made the possibility of saying no, close to impossible. Just because everyone else who lived in Eden were assholes didn’t mean you were going to be one, which is what lead you to your current predicament.

Five calls you had made that had all been unanswered is what currently lit up your phone screen, as well as your room. It was far past midnight and instead of sleeping like any other sane person would be doing - you were calling Andy or trying too anyway but he wasn’t fucking answering.. naturally.

You weren’t calling for any particular reason, but that wasn’t the point anymore. The fact that Andy wasn’t answering was a huge warning that something was wrong, after all it was a weekday and you knew he wasn’t sleeping or exactly busy.

Unless.. He was with Hedwig?

The thought automatically made your blood run hot under your skin. The feeling seething and utterly consuming until you quickly found yourself going out to your car. Doing the only thing that you knew would make your sudden paranoia go away.

As you drove through the roads that were completely vacant of any other cars and drove past houses and neighborhoods that also looked vacant of any life - you couldn’t help but to think why you even cared.

Andy never really showed interest in you, so what if Hedwig and Andy were actually doing anything?? Unless you caught them in the act, it’s not like either of them would admit to doing shit anyway but that didn’t stop you from still feeling irrationally angry and a bit betrayed.

You didn’t realize how tight you were gripping the steering wheel until you stopped the car and had to let go of it. Your fingers unnecessarily clenched and stiff to the point where they physically ached. Not to mention, you were shaking with the possibility that you could really find them here together, but now that you were actually here- you quickly realized that there was no other car here.

Odd.

You quickly (and quietly) stepped out of the car and paced up to Andy’s house. Not bothering to knock as you let yourself in, knowing that Andy wouldn’t necessarily mind that you did so.. well, you knew if he wasn’t with Hedwig anyway.

The only thing you heard were your footsteps as you took a few steps into the house. Looking cautiously for any signs of life.. any sounds or anything that could indicate anyone was in the house at all but you found nothing.

It took your eyes a minute to adjust to the near pitch darkness that omitted from the large windows that sat on the vast majority of the living room walls. The only light came dimly from the kitchen but even that was too sparse to truly allow you to see anything.

You slid your shoes off and left them by the door, not wanting your steps to allude to your presence before you could see him first and say something. Your steps far more quiet and easier to control now that you only had socks covering your feet.

You made it about halfway up the stairs, originally trying to make a beeline to Andy’s room but quickly freezing once you heard something.

It was shallow and soft but, with the contrast of pure stark silence it was nearly fucking deafening. It was a whimper at first, and it was coming from downstairs on the couch.

Your heart sank once you realized what exactly you were listening too. The first sniffle you heard nearly making you jump from how off guard you suddenly felt; that was the last thing you were expecting to hear..

You looked down from the staircase at the couch; making out a very dim outline of someone slumped over and sitting on the edge with their head in their hands. Their chest and back heaving from how deep they were crying..

You stood idle for a moment, not knowing whether to continue standing or to leave silently but you felt as if you didn’t exactly have a option. Even without asking or being able to necessarily see; you knew who it was but even knowing this- you knew getting him to talk was a good first step.

“Andy?”

Your voice automatically cut off his sobs - almost stopping instantaneously.

You saw his hands move down from his face and drop down to his lap, his head turning up to look at you. Your eyes finally adjusting to the near pitch black atmosphere.

The silence only permeated the room for about three seconds but that was nearly far too long to withstand. Knowing how unpredictable Andy was, you didn’t know if the words that were going to come out of his mouth were going to be kind or purely vile.

You started to speak fast without a second thought, the silence driving you to immediately apologize and try to fix the damage before Andy completely went off on you.

“I’m really sorry. I just got worried because you weren’t answering my calls and I wanted to make sure you were okay, but.. obviously your not,” You said. Swallowing harshly after realizing that Andy was still diligently listening and not cutting you off or telling you to leave.. That had to be a good sign, right? “What happened?” You pressed on.

“What do you think happened?” Andy answered quickly. His voice rough and rugged from sobbing, as well as probably from previously yelling.

You slowly walked down the stairs, choosing to not shy away from his sudden outburst of anger. You weren’t exactly certain which direction you would go in once you were finished descending.. but atleast you knew Andy wasn’t fucking Hedwig. Not right now at the very least.

“Was it Hedwig?” you blindly guessed. Wanting to affirm what you were so desperately hoping wasn’t true and that you could finally relax a bit. That’s if Andy wasn’t mad that you practically broke into his house.. but he didn’t seem to be. Not right now anyway.

You heard him softly laugh in response which made you smile for a second. You could tell by how he was previously crying and in the tone of his voice that he was still hurt. His laugh wasn’t genuine in the slightest; but it showed that he was done crying for the moment which was worth a smile.

“Why does it matter to you if it was her?”

“So it was,” you affirmed.

Your feet stepped off of the final step, and you found yourself approaching Andy. The choice came naturally. The closer you got to him the more apparent it was how broken he truly looked. He stopped crying but his eyes and cheeks were still glossy and wet with tears. His lips red and trembling; among looking entirely and utterly broken there was a hint of agitation present as well. You started to wonder if Hedwig truly did something or if Andy once again was blowing things out of proportion.

“Will you tell me what happened?” You asked cautiously. Your voice was soft, not wanting to unintentionally come off as too strong or hostile.

He studied you hesitantly and with a gleam of uncertainty in his eye - but nonetheless he patted the seat next to him on the couch he was sitting on. Silently urging you to sit next to him and letting you know that he would probably tell you what happened.

At first he remained quiet. Awkwardly avoiding what he knew you wanted to talk about but he still remained silent.. but his voice suddenly broke through. Making you jump at the unexpected sound that suddenly sounded so loud, even though in reality his voice was still low in tone.

“She left me.”

You stared at him numbly for a second, not feeling necessarily surprised at his words (After all, since when was Hedwig not a flight risk?) but instead feeling weirdly a bit frustrated and sad for Andy.

You knew exactly how he felt; it wasn’t like this was the first time this ever happened but hopefully it would be the last. Seeing Andy this sad and broken over someone who in reality, didn’t give two fucks about him was beyond heartbreaking. It hurt even worse for you to keep witnessing him coming back to her though.

Just when you finally opened your mouth to speak he cut you off.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know it’s my fault and I’m such a fucking idiot-“

“Andy, stop!” You said a bit too loudly. You tried your best to hold eye contact with him when he finally turned to meet your gaze as he reluctantly looked at you. You fought the impulse to apologize for raising your voice but there was no need because you didn’t truly feel sorry. He needed to hear you out. “You need to stop blaming yourself. Hedwig’s actions aren’t your fault.. she’s like that with everyone, Andy. She’s always been-“

“I don’t give a fuck what she’s like with other people y/n! She should’ve acted differently with me, she was supposed to care about me and stay..” his words cut off with a deep inhale.

He was trying not to sob and failing miserably.

Andy quickly left the couch, taking a few steps away from you with his back turned. Trying to compose himself as you sat and.. felt entirely guilty.

Even though he had practically blown up at you; you weren’t leaving but you knew approaching him wasn’t the answer either, so you stayed seated at the couch. Hoping he would atleast sit back down next to you.

“I can’t control Hedwig or what she does, Andy but I know solely saying that I’m sorry isn’t enough either,” you started and then paused. The words you wanted to say next.. words that you knew were true but barely had the courage to say were heavy on your tongue. You knew this wasn’t exactly the time to even be thinking about how you truly felt for Andy but you couldn’t help it.

You wanted nothing more than for it to stop. His tears, his words and pleading with Hedwig, your feelings.. it wasn’t enough to just submit to it anymore and to be a witness to how you truly felt. If anything, it was slowly but surely driving you mad and you knew unless you atleast hinted at the fact that it was making you upset; Andy wouldn’t change his behavior.

You knew he payed for sex from Hedwig, it was the one thing that always kept her coming back no matter how he acted and well.. Even if his time was being bought, he liked the attention. He craved it.

It felt weird to admit to yourself that he was taking you for granted.. because he wasn’t really but, compared to how he treated Hedwig - you were definitely on the back burner. You didn’t blame him; why would he ever notice you when he could have someone like Hedwig?

You slowly looked back at Andy, noticing he was staring at you once again with glossy blue eyes which appeared dark in the lighting. A dark, almost midnight blue that would surely match the ocean waves that you could faintly hear from inside the house since the back door was open. He looked a bit annoyed but mostly intrigued. He was waiting for you to continue.

“But you deserve better, Andrew. You shouldn’t allow her to repeatedly do this to you because I know she knows how upset it makes you. She doesn’t care-“

“How do you know how Hedwig feels about me y/n?! You need to keep her name out of your fucking mouth. You don’t know her like I do,” Andy spoke roughly.

You stared at him blankly for a moment. Purely appalled that he was saying this to you in total seriousness; but you knew in reality that it was foolish to be surprised.. to not expect that he would talk to you like this eventually. After all; he blew up at everyone else, why wouldn’t he do the same to you?

You knew nothing made you inherently different and well.. this was just proving that assumption. Andy never viewed you differently from anyone else; that was now crystal clear.

Your hands started to gently tremble in your lap; and it didn’t take long for the rest of your body to follow suit. The sadness and self pity quickly washed away in what was quicker and more rapid than waves. Anger surged through your veins, forcing you to stand up suddenly. You could barely stand to make eye contact as you spoke, barely able to bear to witness how your words made him feel.

“Don’t talk to me like that. You don’t get to talk to me like that. If I didn’t randomly decide to come and check on you because I guess I’m the only one who actually gives a fuck about you, then you would’ve been alone again with no one to yell at. And maybe that would’ve been for the best,” You turned around on your heels. Walking fast and headed for the door, trying to quickly slip your shoes on before you heard Andy’s voice solemnly.

“Y/n wait.”

You stood still at first, weirdly feeling numb and waiting for the metaphorical shoe to drop. Andy’s voice was soft this time as he spoke, the roughness that was present earlier was long gone but.. you didn’t trust it.

You waited for him to catch his breath and to raise his voice and just say more words he would apologize for later; your throat tightened as you felt your body react almost instinctively. You slipped the other shoe you previously put on back off. Turning around just enough so that you could make eye contact, or attempt too with the horribly dim lighting.

“Yeah? Wait for what?”

Andy swallowed in response to your words. Almost bashfully looking down briefly to avoid saying anything or having to look at you any longer. You could see tears staining his cheeks, continuing to run down and nearly slid down his neck. He looked pathetic; and it would’ve almost been funny to see a grown man fully sob in front of you with no shame if it wasn’t your best friend and well.. the person you loved.

“Never mind. You were right; it’s probably best if you just go,” Andy’s voice cracked.

You wanted to believe that the best option for you was to turn around and leave but your judgment felt entirely skewed. Was it really the right thing to turn around and leave when he needed you? Probably not.

You knew if the roles were changed and you were the one who was upset that Andy would probably stay.. but that also depended on other circumstances as well, of course.

Stepping away from your shoes and the entrance of Andy’s house; you approached him. You tried to do so as quickly as possible before he could try to stop you or protest, but by the time he looked up you were barely a foot away.

You reached up, and with a shaky hand (that you hoped desperately he didn’t notice or wouldn’t swat away) you gently placed your fingertips on his cheek. Your thumb softly pressing against his skin, dragging your finger up as to wipe away his tears as the rest of your fingers lie under his jaw.

You tried to ignore how unsettled he looked at you doing this, and how he almost looked uncomfortable or as if he was on the brink of telling you off.. but he didn’t. He watched you diligently as you continued to brush away his tears.

“I’m sorry.. But I couldn’t stand to see you like that,” you said. Trying to give some rational explanation for your behavior even though, Andy didn’t look like he particularly cared why you were doing it. It was the fact you were doing it at all that seemed to have his interest piqued.

You tried to pull your hand back since his cheeks were dry, but he stopped you. His hand softly grabbed your wrist before his hand slid into yours.. your fingers slowly lacing together before you turned your gaze from your laced hands up to his eyes.

“Will you stay?” He asked. His voice was still rough and gravelly but this time, it was starting to sound a bit genuine.

You studied him for a second longer - your mouth dry but you knew the answer before you even spoke.

“Yeah. I’m not going to leave you Andy. I’m not Hedwig,” you spoke as if it were more of a promise rather than a statement.

You felt your stomach churn for a split second as you remembered how he scolded you earlier for talking down on Hedwig, but you smiled instead. The laughter you heard quickly subsiding your previous emotions.

“Okay,” He spoke almost uncertainly.

You could see the outline of him walking away before you felt him gently pull on your hand; making you follow him into the dark hallway which would eventually lead too, you could only guess, what would be his room.

Holding his hand like this almost felt weird but you couldn’t deny how almost.. right it felt too. Even perfect, you would dare say.

There was no way to guess what the rest of the night would entail but you didn’t exactly mind guessing; after all, how could you complain if you were to spend it with Andy?

You couldn’t. There was no way you could.

Whether it was platonic or not, spending the rest of the night right next to Andy, most likely in his clothes since you didn’t bother to bring any more of your own, sounded like heaven.

And since when did you ever complain about spending a night with someone that you had craved so bad?

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @king-with-no-crovvn @melodylangdon @littledemondani @celestialrequiem @sojournmichael @ritualmichael @twilightzone24

Let me know if you would like to be added or removed to the taglist :)

[bonjour-rainycity]

Time

Prompt: Someone’s jealous (Content Challenge Day 1)

Pairing: Hinted Legolas x Female Reader, light Boromir x Female Reader

Rating: G

Word count: 1313

Warnings: Angst (nothing too heavy)

A/n Hey everyone, welcome to Day 1 of my content challenge! You can find the challenge’s masterlist here, and my personal masterlist here. And honestly, I don’t even know what happened with this story. I had two fluffy pieces ready to go and then I read them again and realized I wasn’t ready to post them. So I opened a doc and accidentally wrote angst. Whoops! Hope you enjoy :)

Boromir entered the clearing, arms laden with firewood. With a nod towards Sam, who had volunteered to tend to the fire, he dropped the wood, retreating to a log on the edge of camp.

The exact log upon which Y/n sat.

She greeted him warmly, welcoming him back from his quick venture into the forest. Without meaning to, Legolas watched as Boromir placed a soft kiss on Y/n’s cheek, earning him a shy smile. Seeming slightly hesitant, Y/n laid her head on Boromir’s shoulder, and when he wrapped an arm around her back, Y/n relaxed, pleased that her advance was received favorably.

Legolas tore his eyes away from the budding romance, turning his back on them to help Sam with the fire.

“Oh, don’t you worry yourself with this, Mister Elf. I’ll get the fire going, I just need to find the right kindling.”

Legolas furrowed his eyebrows. “The firewood is not enough?”

Sam looked away, seeming uncomfortable with criticizing the quality of the firewood and, by extension, his friend Boromir. “I’m sure he did as best he could in the dark. Unfortunate it is though — most of the wood is too wet or covered in moss. Have you got a bit of spare paper, by chance?”

Legolas stared at the offending pile of wood. This is ridiculous, he thought. Do not volunteer to collect the firewood unless you know what you’re doing — it’s a waste of everybody’s time.

A giggle from Y/n floated to Legolas’ ear, and he couldn’t stop the frown that set in his lips. It seems it was not inexperience that caused Boromir to bring back unacceptable supplies, but distraction.

Legolas huffed in frustration, grabbing a stick at random and marching to where Boromir and Y/n sat.  

He shoved the moss-covered branch in Boromir’s direction. “This is what you came back with? Hardly any of it is usable. It is too long or half-drenched or covered in moss — it won’t burn.”

Boromir puffed out his chest, tearing his gaze away from Y/n to look upon the elf with a measure of disdain. “The wood is perfectly useable.”

Legolas clenched his teeth, caught in an unexpected flurry of anger. “It is apparent you have allowed yourself to become distracted and forget your duties. I will have to do it myself.”

He pushed past the two humans, stalking deeper into the woods.

With his elven hearing, Legolas heard Y/n’s soft and slightly alarmed voice call after him. Everything in him shouted for him to turn back, to answer her plea, but he kept his feet moving forward. Something about the camp tonight made him irrationally angry, and, stranger still, left him with an unwelcome discomfort in his chest.

He heard light footsteps behind him, and knew Aragorn was on his trail. Legolas kept walking until he was far enough away from the camp that he could no longer hear any individual voices, just a general murmur of sounds. He found a small cliff and a cluster of rocks and climbed, pleased that he found a spot that allowed him to sulk and keep an eye on the surrounding areas.

Aragorn was not far behind, and soon sat on a boulder across from Legolas.

The two sat in silence for a long while, both of their brows furrowed in thought. While Legolas contemplated the foul mood he found himself in, Aragorn struggled with how best to broach the conversation. Legolas was one of his closest friends, and he liked to think that he knew the ellon quite well. Over the past few months, it had become apparent to Aragorn that Legolas harbored affection for the human woman that accompanied their fellowship.

And it had recently become apparent to everyone that Y/n and Boromir were interested in each other.

Aragorn knew this was the reason for Legolas’ anger—he was sure of it. But how best to bring it up?

Finally, Aragorn spoke, bracing his forearms against his knees and turning towards the elf. “You know, Legolas, sometimes, when I think of Arwen in Rivendell surrounded by ellyn, I get a little stressed out.”

Shame gathered in Legolas’ gut. He felt quite guilty for being so dramatic when it was obvious Aragorn needed to talk. He mustered what he hoped was an encouraging smile, and laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder, trying to provide reassurance. “Do not be worried, mellon nin, elves love only once. If Arwen has chosen you, there is no threat from other ellon.”

Aragorn looked to the ground briefly. He hadn’t expected to have to try again.

He took a second to regroup. “Right. Thank you for that. But uh, if I were to see her in another’s arms, or see her flirt with them, even, that would make me very upset. And that’s to be expected, really. It only means I love her, and I wish for her to want me only.” The line between Legolas’ brow deepened, and Aragorn continued eagerly, hoping his friend was catching on. “It would hurt me to see the woman I love being affectionate with someone else.”

Legolas’ mouth set into a hard line, and his eyes widened. Aragorn nearly laughed in relief. Finally.

“Has Arwen been unfaithful?”

No! So close!

Aragorn bit back a curse, and Legolas took this as confirmation.

He sat back on his heels, his features encompassed by disbelief. “This is unheard of from an elf, though perhaps it is the influence of her human lineage. I admit, it pains me greatly to think her capable of such a thing. But do not fret, mellon nin, I will stand by your side through this.”

“No, Legolas,” Aragorn groaned, laying a hand on the elf’s shoulder, causing him to look Aragorn in the eye. Time to try again. More overt, this time. “Arwen has never been unfaithful, nor do I sense that quality in her.” Legolas relaxed in clear relief, and Aragorn allowed himself a deep breath before continuing. “I only meant to say, that if I had romantic feelings for someone…and I saw them engaging in displays of romantic affection with someone other than me….” Aragorn saw the moment realization began to dawn in Legolas’ eyes, and he felt a strong pang of sorrow for his friend. He forced himself to continue, knowing that Legolas needed to acknowledge these feelings in order to deal with them. “It would make me feel sad, and hurt, and probably angry and frustrated, too…and that’s okay. I think it would be especially difficult if I did not realize that I had these feelings of affection for her, until she was in the arms of another.”

Legolas seemed to sag, dropping his head and letting his elbows rest on his knees. The two sat in silence for a moment as Legolas took deep breaths, unused to feeling such frustration and grief. After what seemed like quite a long time, Legolas raised his eyes to Aragorn’s.

“How did you know? I did not even know.”

Aragorn gave a small shrug, hating that he couldn’t be of more help to his hurting friend. “You look at her in the same way I look at Arwen — with complete devotion. You’d give up your title for her, lay down your life for her…do anything and everything you could to make her safe and happy.”

Legolas tried to protest. “I want safety and happiness for any of you.”

Aragorn held up a hand to stop him. “It’s different and you know it.”

Legolas sighed, feeling defeated. “I don’t want to love a human. Especially a taken human.”

“Just be there for her, look out for her as her friend. And you never know. Give it time.”

Legolas clenched his teeth together against the onslaught of despair. “She is human, Aragorn. Time is something she does not have.”

A/n Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated :) Let me know if you would like to be added to a tag list! 

[brockkboeserr]

speak now - rafe cameron

it’s the day of your wedding and, even though it’s been two years, you can’t stop thinking about the one who got away. little do you know he’s also consumed with thoughts of you and he’s not ready to give up just yet

warnings: angst with a happy ending

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 2.9k

a/n: this is the fic i wrote for pen on imessage, everyone say thank you to @girlsru1eboysdroo1 for the fact that this isn’t totally depressing!! i emphasized her favorite lines just for fun, i always wanted to write a fic with this trope so here it is, enjoy!!

You had loved Rafe Cameron your whole life, and truth be told you probably always would. But, he wasn’t yours to want anymore and you weren’t his. In fact, you were silently freaking out in a small room of a church, thinking about the one who got away as your fiancé stood at the end of the aisle.

It wasn’t fair to Chris. Chris, who was so sweet, so kind. Who supported you through thick and thin. Who uprooted his whole life to follow you to the grad school of your dreams. Who held you and loved you and treated you right. Chris, who would probably do anything for you if you only asked.

That was the thing though, with Rafe you never had to ask. He had known you better than you had known yourself, could predict when you needed him and what exactly you needed. He could feel the shift in your energy after a bad day at school or work, and was always ready to cheer you up, whether it was shitty fast food and shittier reality television or his sometimes gentle touch.

Rafe had known you and loved you, all the parts of you. Not just the good that Chris so often praised you over, your kind heart and selfless attitude. But also, the parts of you that you felt you had to hide, your petty jealousy, your quick temper. He loved not only your beautiful parts, but every scar and every flaw too.

But Rafe had let you down, too. His own temper and irrationality got him into trouble on more than one occasion, and all you had wanted was for him to let go of old hurts. You understood his insecurity stemmed from years of never being good enough for his father, Ward Cameron was a son of a bitch who had ruined the self-esteem of the boy you loved. Ultimately it was a combination of both that spelled the end of your relationship. A screaming match where he had projected his own inner turmoil onto you, certain that you could never truly love someone like him. He had said things he couldn’t take back, and you had packed your bags that night, never to step foot in his apartment again.

So here you were, two years later, about to marry another man. You looked at yourself in the mirror, saw the fresh tears pooling, threatening to spill and ruin your expensive makeup. If anyone were to see you, they would probably assume they were happy tears, brought on by the overwhelming joy of linking yourself to Chris forever. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Your tears stemmed from the knowledge that going through with this truly meant the end of a future with Rafe. It was stupid, Rafe hadn’t contacted you in the years since your break up, and the only information you received on his wellbeing you got through his sister Sarah who you still thought of as a friend. Rafe didn’t know that you kept tabs on him, but you wouldn’t be surprised if Sarah told him about you, too. You briefly wondered what it would have felt like to receive the news of your engagement, if he ever saw the invitation hung on Sarah’s fridge. If he was sad, or jealous, or if he even cared.

For a moment, you thought about running, pulling a runaway bride, but Chris didn’t deserve that. His only flaw was that he wasn’t Rafe Cameron, and it wasn’t fair to resent him for that fact. Besides, your mother would throw a fit. She had been mad enough when you had arrived home, 21 and single and in need of a place to stay as you got back on your feet. You were pretty sure she might actually disown you if you left another ‘eligible bachelor’, especially this close to commitment. You would likely never hear the end of how you had ruined a perfectly good (and extravagantly expensive) wedding. Not only that, there was no guarantee the next guy you found would hold a candle to Rafe, and you were certain by his two year long radio silence, that Rafe was over you. So, you got up, smoothed down the crinkle in your off-white wedding dress, dabbed at your eyes with a tissue and grabbed your bouquet, resigned to going through with the wedding.

The truth is, when Rafe walked into Sarah’s apartment to pick her up for a lunch with Ward and Rose, she all but threw herself at Rafe to prevent him from seeing the invitation on the fridge. Her plan had been to meet him in the car, but Rafe had walked right in using his key. Suspicious of his little sister’s actions, he gently moved her aside and entered the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He paused, hand hovering near the water dispenser on the fridge as his eyes landed on the photo of you and Chris with “save the date” written in bold block letters. In his shock, the glass slipped from his grasp, shattering on the floor. The sound shook him from his thoughts, and he grimaced at the broken pieces of glass that lay at his feet alongside his shattered heart. He looked at Sarah with a look of pure devastation as she offered him a soft smile and quickly swept up the glass. Unfortunately, the pieces of his heart couldn’t be cleaned up so easily. “I’m sorry,” she had offered quietly and all he could do was shrug and say, “me too.”

The green eyed monster of jealousy lingered on his shoulder in the weeks that follow, causing him to lash out more and more. His coworkers avoided him, his friends wanted nothing to do with him, and the only people who he could stand to be around were his little sisters of all people. Despite Sarah keeping your engagement a secret, she had tried to save him from heartbreak, but it was always going to hurt no matter when or where he found out. Since finding out, thoughts of you consumed him, they always had. He had given you the space you had so desperately asked for that night you left, always thinking that you would come back to him, that the two of you would work it out and move on together. He never stopped thinking about you and wondering where you were and what you were doing. He’d heard you’d gone through a few relationships, and he wouldn’t lie about the way his heart would leap a little every time your relationships failed.

Now, it was serious. You’d found someone you’d deemed worthy enough to spend your life with. Rafe always thought that person was him, but he didn’t blame you for not thinking that, too. He had his issues, he was quick to anger, projected his insecurities on others, he’d struggled with addiction and alcoholism although he’d been clean for almost three years at the point. Rafe couldn’t help but admit he was jealous. Jealous of the nights he didn’t get to spend with you, jealous of the love you were giving some other guy that you had once reserved for him, jealous of the life you were going to spend with someone else. Above all else, he was jealous that you were happy without him. He thought you hung the moon, and he was once happy to live among the stars. He would still rearrange the entire night sky for you, but now you saw stars in another’s eyes.

As your wedding date approached, he only felt worse. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have been the one in the wedding invite picture, to have his name written in an elegant script alongside yours on a piece of thick cardstock paper inviting your family and friends to celebrate your love. The daydream overtook his brain. Thoughts of wedding cake tastings and searching for a venue and fighting over seating charts invaded his every waking hour. And at night, he dreamt of being the one at the end of the aisle as you slowly walked towards him, a vision in white with your hair framing your face like the prettiest painting he had ever seen. Saw you approach him, place your hand in his and vow to be his forever. Felt your lips on his as you kissed for the first time as man and wife, dipping you unexpectedly and feeling your delicate fingertips wrap around his lapels to keep you steady. Dreamt of the first dance, twirling you around in his arms, and speeches and kissing every time cutlery tapped a wine glass. Dreamt of a hotel suite with rose petals on the floor, of slowly unzipping your dress and kissing every inch revealed, of a lacy white lingerie set and making love to you as your husband for the first time. But every morning he awoke in a too-large and too-empty king size bed with nothing but the faint memory of a dream.

On the morning of your wedding he awoke from such a dream, and realized he was going to wake up like that every morning for the rest of his life - sad, alone and wanting you. It was then he understood that he had to do something, had to tell you how he felt. He knew it was selfish and impetuous and rash, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t at least try. He couldn’t let you marry some hedge fund manager from Raleigh who dressed like a douche in your engagement photo shoot. And so Rafe pulled himself out of his depression and his silk sheets, dressing himself in a suit and tie to hopefully blend in the back church pew. He didn’t tell Sarah, didn’t tell anyone about his plans lest they convince him not to try.

“Bride,” he told the usher when asked who’s side he was with, before slipping into the last pew on the left. His eyes glanced around the church and he shook his head, even the venue was wrong. You had always told Rafe that you wanted to be married on the beach, barefoot in the sand of the OBX, a soft breeze against your skin. He would always tease you about the breeze, lying in bed together with your hands intertwined dreaming about the future. But, in your dreams, you had always giggled, you could control the weather and you wanted a slight breeze like a scene from a movie. He pulled at his tie a little, the atmosphere stuffy and stifling, and he thought that, if you would have him, he would give you your dream beach wedding, even if he had to buy a large fan to give you your slight breeze.

You stood at the back of the church, nervously picking at the bouquet in your hands as your bridesmaids made their way down the aisle. Your arms were shaking with anxiety, but to the casual outside observer you likely seemed to be jittery with excitement. “You ready, sweetheart?” your father asked, offering you his bent elbow. Swallowing hard, you placed your hand in the crook of his arm and entered the chapel. Chris stood at the end of the aisle, a vision in a dark grey tux with a light pink tie to match the color of your bridesmaids’ dresses. You felt tears prick at your eyes as you felt nothing for the man standing there waiting for you. His eyes filled with matching tears and you felt nothing. Scanning the pews for reassurance from your family and friends, you spotted him. There, in the back pew on the left side, your side, sat Rafe Cameron.

You froze, eyes wide as you laid eyes on Rafe Cameron for the first time since you walked out of his apartment two years ago. Of course, you had unhealthily stalked his social media for months after the break up, and every now and then when you felt like torturing yourself, but this was the first time you saw him in person, close enough to run to, close enough to touch. Tearing your eyes from his, you scanned the church again, gulping as you met the furious stare of your mother in the first row, cringing at the almost devastated look on Chris’s face. Lastly, you looked up at your father who gave you a knowing stare, before inclining his head slightly at you. It was that small confirmation that sold it for you. You handed the bouquet to your father, quietly said, “I’m sorry,” before you turned and ran out of the church.

It was difficult to run in your expensive red bottom shoes, but you made an admirable effort for the first few feet before stopping long enough to slip them off. You held both shoes by the heel in one hand, the other hand grasping the bottom of your dress to keep it from dragging on the ground slowing you down. There’s a small park across the street from the church, and it’s here that you realize you’re being followed. Your chest restricts as you recognize the voice calling your name doesn’t belong to your mother or Chris or your bridesmaids. Stopping and turning around, you spot Rafe hot on your heels. You can’t do anything but stand there and stare at him as comes to a stop in front of you, slightly out of breath despite his trim figure. You take him in, eyes roaming every inch of his tall frame. You’re a little dizzy, unsure if it’s the rush of your fight or flight instinct, or the rush you’ve always felt in Rafe’s presence.

“I’m sorry,” is the first phrase that leave his lips and you look at him in confusion. He loves the way your nose scrunches up, and the little crinkle that appears between your eyebrows, has dreamed of seeing it again.

“For what?” you asked, unsure of what he was apologizing for. You weren’t upset that you’d ran off, you knew that you didn’t really want to marry Chris, that you had only said yes because of the pressure from your mom and the knowledge that Rafe hadn’t spoken to you in two years.

“Everything,” he admits, flexing his hands nervously. “God, y/n, I fucked up so bad.” Your eyes are staring at his fidgeting hands, and in a split second you’ve dropped your shoes onto the grass and grasped his hands in yours, linking your fingers.

He looks between your now linked hands and your face, and you take the opportunity to take a step closer to him. “I’m sorry too,” you speak softly, “I shouldn’t have ran like that. I should have stayed, and I should have fought for you.”

“You’re not-“ he swallows, “you’re not mad I ruined your wedding?” Despite your hands in his, despite the look in your eye as you stare up at him, despite the fact that you haven’t run from him, he has to ask. Has to make sure that you’re still as in love with him as he is you. That you’ve spent the past two years thinking about where you both went wrong and how you could fix it. That you had thought and dreamt of this moment, where you were close enough to press your lips together.

“I think we both know that wasn’t my wedding, not really. Wrong color scheme, wrong venue...” you pause thoughtfully, squeezing his hands as a smile makes its way onto your face. He catches on quickly, his lips upturning with a small smirk as he finishes your thought, “Wrong groom?”

You giggle, dropping his hands in favour of gripping his face with your palms, smiling widely up at him. There’s something about the intimacy of the moment, of feeling his skin beneath your fingertips, that has you emotional. Rafe feels it too, staring into your eyes, in full disbelief that this is how today has gone. He had hoped, of course. He wouldn’t have shown up at the church if he thought there was no chance of stopping your wedding. But to have you here... Your thumb strokes his cheek as his eyes fill with tears. “Yeah, baby, wrong groom.”

At your confirmation, he ducks his head down and presses his lips to yours. Your hands slide from his cheeks to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other wrapping around the back of your neck holding you in place as the kiss deepens. You have to pull back to breathe, but he doesn’t let you go far, holding you in place as you rest your foreheads together.

“I’m so in love with you,” he whispers against your lips and you grin before pecking his lips once. “I’m still in love with you, too,” you whisper back. Suddenly, you’re kissing again, two years of absence melting away with each brush of your lips.

You pull away for a second time, smiling as his lips attempt to chase yours. “We’re going to have to work at this you know, our issues didn’t just go away,” you tell him seriously.

He nods, grabbing one of your hands to kiss the inside of your palm, “I know baby, but I’m ready to work on it, on us, this time.”

You grin widely at him once more, before grabbing your shoes and linking your hands together, “then let’s get me out of this stupid dress.”

everything taglist: @velyssaraptor​ @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @rekrappeter @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast @sunwardsss @rudyypankow @im-a-stranger-thing @alexa-playafricabytoto @maybankfullkook @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @sortagaysortahigh @socialwriter @bluesiderudy @anxietyandtacos @diverrdown @stargazingstarkey

[nishiisenpai]

punch - tanaka ryūnosuke x reader

 REQUEST: “AHHHH ok so I'm irrationally angry rn and I do this thing where I punch my thighs so I don't accidentally commit a felony. I need some fluff so could you do any one of these boys (Tsukishima, Ushijima, or Tanaka,) seeing a f!reader doing the leg punchy? Any topic I just need some fluff 😅 Thanks - @italkmyselftosleep “

A/N: i chose tanaka cause he seemed to fit this more and relate to this request more too. i apologize that i wrote this so late because again, school was pretty terrible, but I hope this works :))) 

okay this was really cheesy, so i will warn you in advance, but thank you so much for being patient and here’s this request for you!!!

-

WARNING: Fluff!!! 

ADDITIONAL WARNING:  foul language will be added! and mentions of managing anger. (this request was made before my rules page got set up)

WHO:  Tanaka Ryūnosuke x Female Reader

-

Monday mornings are the worst. Let’s be honest. It was the starting of the week of school and it also could never start off right for anyone... Well for you that is. 

Your alarm rang loudly knocking you out of bed. 

“What time is it?” you cringed at the sound and the way your voice cracked. You squint your eyes while looking at your phone that stated 6:00 AM.

“5 more minutes.” as you stopped the alarm before turning to the other side of the bed.

The alarm rung 4 more times although you had slept past them all. The last one really shook you awake since the phone was right next to your ear.

“aH SHIT- I’m late!” as you pulled the covers off yourself but struggled to do so as you tossed and turned. You ran around your room scrambling to get your backpack ready while also dressing in the school uniform.

“Where is my vest?” as you searched through the piled up clothes at the foot of your bed. 

“Y/N! Hurry up! You’re going to be late!”

“I know! I’m sorry! I’m trying to look for my vest!”

“It’s in the wash, sorry hun!” your mom came in and threw in a different vest that was identical but had a small stain.

“It’s fine! Thanks for this one though!” you grabbed your stain remover stick and your backpack before fleeing to the bathroom to quickly rush your daily routine. You ran to the front door to put your shoes on in a hurry.

“Take this with you!” as your mom threw a sandwich at your head and you lurched forward. Turning around to pick up the bagged breakfast, thanked your mom before bolting out the door immediately and ran to school.

-

“Miss Y/N, you’re late to class.” as your teacher skimmed at your messy figure.

“Yes, I apologize for that, I can clean up the classroom after class to make up my tardiness.”

“Very well then, take a seat, we are on page 51 in the textbook.” You went to the back of your class and sat there placing your stuff down.

“Here’s the work sheet for today’s work.” your classmate who sat next to you said handing you the assignment.

“Thank you so much.”

“No worries... Oh, and uh Tanaka was looking for you earlier.”

“Wait- what? Do you know why?”

“Unsure, he didn’t say anything other than ask if you were here.”

“Oh okay, thanks. I’ll go find him later.”

Class continued and you barely managed to stay awake. It was bad that you had stayed up all night to play video games and you kind of beat yourself up for ruining your sleep schedule. But you as well didn’t regret it since you had just leveled up to a higher rank.

You yawned as you walked out of the classroom to go find Tanaka. He must have been with Noya though your assumption had completely disappeared when you heard yelling come your way.

“Y/N!!!!” your best friend Nishinoya came running towards you.

“Huh?” and you felt the sudden weight of Noya on your back. “Shit, when did you get so heavy?”

“Heavy?!?!?!” You laughed and shook your head while caring Noya.

“I was playing, chillllll.” 

“Mhm.” as he clung onto you still. You continued walking swaying your head side to side.

“Do you know where Tanaka is?”

“He was with me just a second ago.”

“So you ran off without him?”

“Yeah.” you smacked your forehead. “What?”

“You idiot, he’s probably trying to find you right now.”

“NISHINOYA!” Tanaka’s voice was heard somewhere on the right side of the building.

“AH SHIIIII” as Noya jumped off of your back and hid behind you. Tanaka came rounding the corner and saw you standing there in question.

“Hey babe, do you know where Nishinoya is?” you felt Noya tug on your shirt.

“Hm? Noya-san? No I haven’t, why?”

“He escaped Daichi’s meeting, and I had to bear with all the trouble he caused.”

“Oh really?” as you raised an eyebrow with an open smirk.

“Why do you look like that?”

“No reason... I will say, he might have went downstairs to the vending machines. He said he was hungry.”

“Alright, thanks babe.”

“You’re welcome.” as you saw Tanaka run down the stairs and you immediately pulled Noya’s arm from behind.

“You skipped Daichi’s meeting?!?!?”

“He was gonna yell at us!”

“Noya, that is irresponsible of you.”

“Well it was also irresponsible of you to lie to your boyfriend like that.”

“Hush- I don’t want to hear anything from you. Now you better go and run or I will drag you to Daichi myself.” Nishinoya shuddered in fear.

“Okay, fine. I will.” as Noya waved bye and you turned around and sighed.

“I forgot to ask Tanaka what he wanted earlier... I’ll just do it later.”

-

School continued and you again tried staying awake for them all. It was difficult knowing you lacked sleep which caused you to be cranky and irritated easily. Sometimes your fits would cause you to be annoying or angry. This lead you to act up more than you should have.

“Y/N, can you pass me those papers?”

“What do you want?”

“Uh, I was just asking if you could pass me those papers.”

“You literally can stand up and get it, I don’t know why you’re asking me.” you retorted back before putting your head back down on the desk.

“What the fuck?”

“I said what I said, so get up and get it. Geez...”

“Do you wanna fight or something?” your classmate raised her voice.

“Alright bet, let’s do it.” you turned to her annoyed.

“You asked for this.” as she stood up from her seat.

“Come at me bitch.” as you got up and stared at her.

“Ladies! Split it up! You both will be standing at the back of the class till the end of this period, and I do not want to hear a single word coming from both of your mouths.” Your teacher had spoken to both you and the girl as you guys headed to the back of the class and stood there.

The period carried on with you and this other classmate standing at the back of the classroom. This caused your irritation level to rise even more since your body was slowly breaking you down and begging you to lay down. 

“Alright, class dismissed. Miss Y/N, I need to have a word with you.” as your teacher insisted for you to come towards her.

“I heard that you are in the volleyball club as the manager.”

“Ah yes I am.”

“Although you are the manager, you must stay here after school for the clean up you had promised me earlier.”

“May I clean up another day? This practice is really important and I must be informed about it.”

“I’m sure the others will inform you about it later. Since it seemed that you were close with Nishinoya.”

“I am, but he’s-”

“I don’t want to hear it. You promised me, therefore you shall keep it and do it.”

“But promises can be broken.”

“Not this one, unless you’d like me to force you on cleaning duty tomorrow too.”

“No thank you.”

“Good, now get to it. The room doesn’t become sparkly clean by itself.” as your teacher grabbed her bag and left the classroom. You bowed to acknowledge her leave before heading to the chalkboard to write profanities all over the wall.

“Why the FUCK did I HAVE to play games past three!?!?!?” as you banged on the wall with your fist. You were angry at yourself. It pissed you off that your day already started bad with being late and the situation you had moments ago with that classmate of yours. It even made you frustrated at yourself that you couldn’t find Tanaka to ask what he needed of you. 

So many thoughts have rushed to your head as you walked to a desk to sit down. You had stopped hitting your fists against the chalkboard though that quickly switched to punching your thighs since you didn’t know where else to contain your anger. It was also a safer option than to accidently commit something dangerous.

After dealing with your anger, you started to clean the classroom. It was better to finish the job quicker and faster so that you would head to practice to see everyone in action. Especially Tanaka since he did mention how he practiced his serves and spikes recently.

-

Cleaning the classroom took less time than you thought. When music was being played through your headphones, you escaped the reality of cleaning and thought of wonders to help the process go by faster. This helped you calm down, though your body was aching.

You put away the cleaning supplies and rushed towards the stairs to head to the changing room in order to switch your sweaty and stained uniform into gym attire instead. You searched through your bag for deodorant and applied twice on each pit in order to securely and safely say your pits didn’t smell.

“Oh hey Y/N-san!” Hinata had shouted and you smiled.

“Hey there!” you waved back and walked to the bench towards Kiyoko.

“Hi Y/N, what took you so long?”

“I got put into cleaning duty.”

“I’m sorry to put this on you again, but you’re on cleaning duty tonight with some of the boys.”

“It’s okay, I can handle it.”

“Are you sure? I can stay back and do it instead since you’ve already done cleaning yesterday.”

“No no, it’s fine. Besides you have to study for your test tomorrow, no?”

“You’re right, but if you’d like I can-”

“Kiyoko-san, you need as much time as possible to study and get good grades. I know you are academically smart, though you like to do well, and staying behind with these rowdy boys is not what you need at the moment.” as you took off your jacket.

“WOOHOO! LOOK AT MY BEST FRIEND!!!” Noya hollered and you laughed while shaking your head.

“See.” you looked at Kiyoko before walking onto the court. ”Alright boys! Let’s start practicing on your serves!”

-

“Thank you for today’s practice!” as the boys bowed down to Coach Ukai.

“You already know what time it is. Go clean up and get home safe. Make sure to eat a well balanced meal and get lots of sleep, you hear me?”

“Yes sir!” as they all scrammed to different areas of the gym. Kiyoko had already left beforehand since there was an emergency she had to attend. Yachi was picking up her things before leaving and you waited behind for all of them to slowly leave one by one.

“Have a good night, Daichi, Sugawara and Asahi san.” as you waved them off and gave them a small smile.

“Make sure Kageyama and Hinata don’t stay back too late.” Daichi instructed.

“Understood. Good night to you three.”

“Good night, Y/N!” Sugawara said patting your head. You nodded listening to Sugawara.

“Good night, and stay safe Y/N.” Asahi said sending you a shy smile and you nodded again.

“I very much will, now move along. You guys need to be home soon.” As you turned your attention back to the boys and went to go toss the balls to them.

-

You had just locked the equipment room after cleaning the gym. Everyone had left, including Hinata and Kageyama who had to get Daichi to yell at the two to head home. The others went to change and you assumed they went home. This left you alone in the gym and no supervision.

Your body shook as the exhaustion and frustration you felt from earlier today started showing. You started getting angry and began punching your thighs. You would have slammed a volleyball but you forgot to have one saved for yourself.

The punching started getting aggressively harder and faster. You didn’t keep track of your surroundings as you only paid attention of releasing your anger through punching yourself.

“Babe! What are you still doing here??? I thought you already left.” Tanaka yawned as he walked closer to you. No response.

“Baby?” Tanaka neared closer to you. He heard the sound of skin smacking.

“Y/N?” As Tanaka stood behind you and took a full look at you, but what caught his eyes was you throwing punches at your reddening thighs.

“WOAH, WOAH, WOAH!” Tanaka jumped and hurried to step in front of you. He put his hands on the side of your arms and you looked up with tears streaming down your cheeks. Your eyes shined under the lights since the tears were welding in your eyes.

“R-ryu?”

“Baby...” as his eyes filled with concern and he held your face in his hands.

“W-what are you still doing here? I thought you went home already.” as you wiped the tears away in a rush and covered your thighs with your arms.

“No, no, I was going to stay behind to walk you home... Why were you punching yourself?” as he gently looked at you up down and rubbed a hand on your pink thighs.

“It was my version of coping with my anger... I’m sorry.”

“Oh my poor princess.” Tanaka sat down on the bench and turned your head towards him. He gave you a kiss on your lips before kissing your forehead. “Do you want to tell me what caused this to happen?”

“It was just a bad morning. I was late and assigned myself stupid cleaning duty to make up for my tardiness. Then I got into a fight with a classmate and got a punishment. After that I was put in another cleaning duty and god I just am so tired.” as you sighed melting to Tanaka’s touch. Tanaka had brought your head to rest on his shoulder as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“It’s okay princess, you did so well today. I am so proud of you for passing the day and finishing it off with me. It’s okay to be angry, though it’s not okay to commit brutal punches to your poor stunning thighs.” As he rubbed a hand over your thigh and gripped it a bit.

“I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be sorry. It was your way of controlling anger, though let’s try finding a different way to contain your anger. How about we choose a different tactic? Like writing your anger away or watching me do stupid things with Noya.”

“I wanna see you act stupid with Noya. You guys make me so happy. Mainly you though.” as you put on a smile to thank Tanaka. Tanaka clenched his heart with an exaggerated expression.

“God your smile is so pretty. How did I get so lucky?” as Tanaka gave you another kiss on your lips.

“Stop- you’re making me blush.” as you hid your face in your hands and stood up to get ready to leave. Tanaka laughed before bringing your hand to his lips to place a small gentle kiss.

“Let’s get you home, hm? We should take care of those sexy thighs.” he winked giving your bum a little smack and you playfully punched him.

“Gosh, you’re so weird.” as you walked towards the doors with Tanaka clinging onto you.

“Whatever, princess. I guess I’m just crazy in love with you.” Tanaka giggled like a little kid.

“Oh jeez-” As you guys left the gym hand in hand and casually being a cheesy couple at night.

-

[humanitysburrito]

𖥸 - delirium

𑁤 SUMMARY; you and dabi reminisce on your friendship while you bleed out in his arms ᨟ PAIRING; f!reader x dabi ᨟ WARNINGS; 18+! smut, light bondage, angst, death, blood and wounds, language, outta char dabi? lol idc, dabi is toya todoroki ᨟ WC; 5k

authors note; this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written. I hope I wrote the whole y/n thing correctly. I debated on how to format the memories and reader quirk, and figured this looked and felt best. This originally was gonna be nothing but smut, but I do love me some sads. Comments are hella appreciated! Practice makes perfect and I will trust the process! (i put together the gif so you can pair it with the end uWu)

Wrong place, wrong time. There simply was no other way to put it. Seeking out Dabi while he was working had always been a dangerous game to play, but neither of you took the time to consider the possibility of friendly fire being your checkmate.

You found yourself stumbling through a vacant alleyway, praying to a higher power - if it existed - that Dabi was able to hear your pleas through the thick of the chaos. Your vision fuzzed into white cotton, prompting you to squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to clear the fog.

When you opened your eyes again, you threw your arms out towards your scarred lover, who was desperately sprinting towards you.

This was the first moment the word ‘love’ ever crossed your mind. The feelings you’ve had for Dabi over the past few years, especially in the last couple of months, have been ambivalent, to say the least. But right now, all you knew was him. All you could see was him. The nearly angelic image of his blue flames fanning out behind him - his tattered coat swaying in the wind. His body language was your gospel, and you were his resolve. 

Your best friend.

Damn, you thought. 

“Shit! Dabi..” Your fading voice trailed off into a light whisper as your ankles cracked underneath your weight. “I’m sorry.”

You could do nothing but apply pressure around the gaping, shredded hole that tore clear through your stomach. A dumpster broke your fall, and your body slid down to rest in a pool of your own blood.

Your quirk did little to restrain the Nomu that had charged in your direction just minutes earlier. Instead, it absorbed your power and released it instantaneously - piercing it right through you.

Blood oozed from your wound as you erupted into a fit of strained laughter. 

Oh, how stupid must I look?

“I’m going out because of my own quirk! How anticlimactic!” Your words came out in a pitiful squeak absolutely littered with sarcasm as the remaining adrenaline in your body faded away.

What felt like a lifetime for you were mere seconds for Dabi as he reached for you, tripping over his feet before sitting down to pull your back flush against his chest, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. One of his palms rested along the side of your neck while the other cupped the side of your face in a vice grip.

“Shut up, y/n. You’re gonna be fine, yeah? Just breathe, doll.”

His heart was hammering wildly through his system despite his attempts to calm down and cool his body off. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, gently rubbing circles on the back your scalp - his first instinct to do whatever he could to make you comfortable. 

“Don’t put me in limbo,” you said through gritted teeth as blood seeped out of your mouth. Dabi brought his legs around to hook over yours - similar to the way you two just started to cuddle.  “We both know how this is going to end.”

And the both of you did. You’d be stupid not to, and Dabi knew that. He would enjoy this much more if you were a pro hero he could sadistically taunt as your life swayed in the balance. But you weren’t. 

It would be easier if you were a comrade who unfortunately took a hit, who would go down forgotten and quickly replaced among the ranks. But you weren’t. 

Right now, he wished you were anyone else. 

“Quit talking like you’re gonna die, y/n!” He yelled into your skin as he erupted into a vicious cycle of shakes.

How the fuck did it come to this, what the fuck! His turquoise eyes strained forward, pulsing, and burning due to the tears he was unable to produce.

Dabi’s voice was laced with sorrow and regret. You had only heard it one other time, and the realization was the tipping point for you to finally cry. Salty water poured down your face as your mind began to cycle through the memories you’ve made with him.

Sweat pooled on your forehead as you drew closer to the man that was hunched over on the curb of your dirt driveway.

Through the darkness, you could see that he was covered in blood - all the way down his face and chest. Shiny, sharp pieces of metal sticking out from his skin glistened under the moonlight, and although you were still at least twelve feet away, the heat radiating off of him was enough to instantly make your clothes stick to your flesh.

As quiet as you tried to be with your movements, you were careless enough to kick some rocks up under your feet, earning you an icy glare from the man before you.

With one quick movement of his hand, ethereal blue flames roared from his palm in your direction but quickly dissipated into steam as he groaned into a state of incoherence and irrationality - the effects of your quirk.

You rose your hand, beckoning rusty chains to come forth from the earth and bind around him. He looked at you through the bloody strands of his raven hair - his turquoise eyes meeting your (e/c) irises that matched the billowing smoke coming from your quirk. The image in his eyes caused your heart to race. Anger and sorrow were swirling into your soul as he stared at you, but it was overpowered by a desperate plea for help as his eyes became lidded.

“Hell, dollface, you got a second?”

These were the first words Dabi ever spoke to you.

“You should have left me alone, y/n!” Dabi sobbed, leaving light kisses and nips along your ear, gently urging you to keep talking - about anything and everything.

You struggled against him to find a more comfortable position in his arms, shooting a hand up into his scarred flesh. He silently berated himself for letting you help him as much as you did. 

Maybe then, he could have lived in a world blissfully unaware of your existence.

He choked on his tongue, his body falling limp against the ground as his aura erupted in a swelling mass of dust as your chains dissolved into the gravel. He passed out - falling face-first into the dirt.

You towered over his unconscious body and reached down, hooking your arms underneath his as you dragged him up your driveway towards your house, keeping him delirious with your quirk just in case he woke up. You brought forth more chains to keep him restrained in the bathroom connected to your garage. The sound of the lights buzzing on was enough to wake him up - snapping his head upright. 

You had no choice but to let up on the delirium in an attempt to speak to him. As you knelt down to be level headed, his eyes never stopped following you. “Who are you?”

“You’re the one who has me chained up like a dog! Who the fuck are you?” His voice was strained and horse, exhaustion overpowering his vocal cords.

You raised your (h/c) eyebrows at his question, licking your teeth behind your lips, shaking your head as you stood up and pushed the bathroom door wide open. There was a clear shot through the garage towards the street you just plucked him off of. 

“I’ll let you go then. You can make a run from here.” You calmly said, uninterested at his display of aggression. “If you try anything stupid, I’ll gladly tie you right back up and keep you here.” You looked down at him, your (h/c), (h/type) falling from behind your ear to the side of your face. “But let’s not forget who asked for a second of my time, dollface.”

“I forgot about that,” Dabi chuckled behind you. “Always using my own words against me.” A warm shiver trickled up your body as his breath steadied in your ear. “You know, I was just going to use you for some free food and a piece of ass before I left?”

You whispered, panting for air as a smirk painted your lips. “Did you get more than you bargained for?”

Dabi didn’t respond to you. He only squeezed your face closer into his chest as you felt his body jitter around you.

“So, what’s your name?”

There was a brief moment of silence before he answered your question.

He finally responded when you reached up to lightly dapple the blood away from under his scarred eyes.

“Dabi.”

“Hello, Dabi. My name is y/n. Do you make it a habit of passing out in people's yards?”

“Only the yards of pretty dolls like you.” Even through the blood and dirt and the satire in his voice - you notice the smirk on his face brighter than any other smile you had ever seen before.

You scoffed, blinking your thoughts away. “I’m sure you do, dollface.” His pride took a small hit at your attempts to use his words against him. Before he could respond, you pushed his head back into the bathtub and doused his hair in ice-cold water with your shower head.

“Oh, baby, how’d you know?” He managed to whisper in a moan, his hands clutching at his sides.

You couldn’t deny that this was the most exciting thing to happen to you in quite a while. You made your living by side hustling for heroes and villains - you didn’t care the cause as long as there was something beneficial for you in the long run. This was a wanted, and much-needed change of activity for you - the possible danger in it giving you a euphoric feeling your quirk never could.

“All jokes aside, Dabi, I’m glad I met you. Just being your friend has given me the best few years of my life. My only regret-,” you paused in a scream, the soft motions in his hands begging you to stop talking and save it for later, “-is that it took me this long to realize,” you whispered into the air, gritting your teeth and turning around against him the best you could to look at him. “I love you, you know.” Dabi froze, his arms becoming limp around you as he cradled your body.

His mind raced with every memory he’s ever had of the way you looked at him. The way you touched him, the way you took care of him. The way your fingertips gently worked their magic, repairing his weak constitution when he needed it the most.

You had been friends for a few years, and your relationship took its sweet fucking time to grow. His occasional visits for first aid eventually led to him crashing on your couch, to moving in as your elusive ‘never-home’ roommate. He enjoyed being around you because you weren’t a complete nuisance, and you were someone who chose to stay oblivious of his criminal activities. 

The day he found out about your own indictments was when Tomura Shigaraki tried to recruit you one day while he was sipping whiskey at the bar.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I didn’t want to come.” The sound of your sneering voice made his ears perk up, and he shot around his bar seat to lock eyes with you.

Even though you declined Tomura’s offer, you came with your own contribution of intel that had a price. That night, you and Dabi stayed up drinking, chain-smoking, and sharing your thoughts and feelings about Stain’s ideology and the hypocrisy of pro-heroes.

Dabi wasn’t sure when he started to develop strange feelings for you. The three years of your friendship had turned into an intense myriad of passionate, sexual frustration that neither of you wanted to cave on. All he knew is that it was a slow, agonizing burn that eventually reached its termination. 

If only you two hadn’t taken so long. If only it hadn’t been just last night.

You both somehow arrived home unscathed during a prep mission you decided to join him on because it had been weeks since you last saw each other. It ended with a massive rush of adrenaline coursing through your bodies - the teasing of who was actually the sidekick in the rare villainous scenarios you involved yourself in in flew out the window, and all you could see were equals as you stared into each other's eyes.

“If we do this, I might not be able to stop.” Dabi’s forehead was pressed against yours, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to your own. His words were coated in a sugary lacquer that rolled off his tongue, seemingly into your own mouth. Tears pooled in the corners of you (e/c) eyes - your mind hazy in a rush of anticipation and fear.

At this moment, you two felt like entirely different people - the exhilaration of a strange encounter filling your bodies with lust and excitement. 

You needed him.

He needed you.

Dabi’s hand came around the back of your head and grasped at your hair, finally pushing your lips together for the first time in a cry of passion. Serotonin flooded his brain, his eyes opening halfway at the feeling of being absolutely wasted against your lips.

His mouth was warm - conflicting with his cold personality, but he tasted like cigarettes and cheap-ass whiskey - oh, my, you needed more.

The two of you were completely lost. Unaware of what the next step was as you kissed each other like a couple of love-struck teenagers for what felt like a lifetime.

His other hand eventually snaked up your side and underneath your shirt before palming his hand against the small of your back and pushing your body against him. Your hands reached to cup his face, your tongues dancing in a messy rhythm. You pulled away, saliva stringing and popping against his bottom lip. Dabi softly tilted you backward to rest your body on your couch as he climbed on top of you, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck while the cold steel on his face did little to chill the heat rising in your body.

“Da-bi,” your breath hitched in a moan as he nipped at the skin on your throat, your hands fisting his hair in frustration.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say my name like that, doll.” Dabi purred along your throat. “I’m going to make you say it over and over and over again.” His body slithered up to give you one last kiss before he sat up and removed his white shirt, tossing it over the side of the couch. 

Your hands trailed along his abdomen, relishing in the feeling of his defined muscles and the cold bars on his nipples. He felt just as you thought he would, and the smell of charcoal and cologne brought you to a drunk reality - an indicator that you were not dreaming. 

Your hands messily tried to undo the buckle on his belt, but he slapped them away. He reached down to kiss you again, his hands grabbing at your shirt and pulling it over your head.

Dabi looked down, seeing your nipples hardening underneath your bra. He bowed his head, struggling to keep his balance as a strange wave of guilt rushed through him. There was only one thing about you that he absolutely couldn’t stand - that you could make him feel things he’s never felt before.

It had taken three years to get to this point. What the fuck were you doing? The way you looked splayed out underneath him was nearly a forbidden sight. 

“Y/n..” His words were lost as his eyes trailed along with your frame - ravenous hunger evident in his glassy orbs.

“No take backs. I have you right where I want you, so let’s finish what we started.” You reached up and pushed him down against you, capturing his lips in another heated kiss, grinding your hips against the twitching bulge in his pants. He felt you smile along his lips, reassuring the nervousness quelling inside his body.

Within seconds he had picked you up and sat down so you could straddle him. His hands caressed your waist and trickled all the way up to your bra that he quickly disposed of. His pierced tongue swirled around your swollen nipples, nibbling and sucking each one as he pushed your hips down harder, encouraging you to grind a little faster. 

Your breath became ragged at the friction between your legs - your pussy practically gushing through your clothes and onto his pants. He pushed you away, leaving one hand on your side while the other unzipped your pants and slid a palm inside to rub along your clothed cunt. Your body shuddered as you threw your head back, leaning backwards to continue to grind as he stroked you teasingly. When he could feel your clit begin to swell and bulge out from your lips, he took the opportunity to sneak two fingers past your underwear and push inside you to beckon you towards him at high speed. 

The sounds of your wet sex drenching his skin were almost too erotic for him to handle, and he ripped his hand out to bring it up to your face.

“Lick them clean.”

You did as you were told, taking each one of his digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue in a euphoric trance as you tried to replace what was missing between your legs with your own hand. Dabi snatched your wrist and held it against your thigh. “You don’t touch yourself unless I say so, dollface.”

“Yes, Dabi.” You replied, struggling to catch your breath. Dabi’s display of aggression and dominance was something you only dreamed of, and you needed more.

“Now, be a good girl and get on your knees for me?” The way he said it almost made you pass the fuck out - the demanding yet sensitive tone playing with your ears. It was not a question.

Once again, you followed instructions and sat on the floor. You spread his legs and positioned yourself as you unbuttoned his pants, smiling at his struggling erection, trying to spring free. 

A gasp escaped from above you as you pulled his cock out, your hand wrapping perfectly around him. He watched you lick your lips with half-lidded eyes and instantly threw his head back at the feeling of your tongue tracing his head, down the underside of his shaft before licking back up and taking him into the back of your throat. He balled his fists into your soft, shiny (h/c) hair at the feeling and pumped ever so slightly to the rhythm you were still trying to find.

“Fuck, y/n.” The affirmation made you suck him deeper into your throat. Your watery eyes and gagging sounds encouraged him to force your nose down into his stubble as he set the pace and fucked into your mouth.

A feeling of white, hot fuzz started to form in his toes and up to his legs at the sight before him, causing him to rip you away from his cock with a ‘pop.’ “Look at you, dollface,” he cooed, smearing your saliva down your chin as you coughed and struggled to catch your breath. “Is this what you think about at night, hmm? Sucking my dick until you can’t breathe?” He teased, pushing his thumb between your lips to hook around your bottom teeth and pull you up with his index finger tightly fastened underneath your chin.

“Among other things,” you whispered before pulling him into another fiery kiss. His hands squeezed your waist, drawing your jeans down to leave you in nothing but your panties.

“Oh, well, if that’s the case, show me what comes next, babydoll,” Dabi growled as he picked you up and carried you off into your bedroom. He threw you on the bed and ripped off the useless, drenched fabric in between your legs.

The gravity of your situation set in. You were now completely naked in front of your best friend, for the very first time. And you sucked his dick. Oh, my god, I sucked his dick! Your face turned bright red in an embarrassing blush, your arms and legs balling up in an attempt to cover yourself. 

“Y/n,” Dabi gently stopped you by crawling on top of you and cupping your face in his hands. “Don’t be shy. You have no idea how beautiful I find you, so let me show you, yeah?” He kissed you, this time it lasted longer than any. It felt different. Your heart strummed with a barrage of hot butterflies as his tongue ran across your teeth and pulled away to slither his body down to your dripping wet core.

“Oh, baby, look at this pretty little pussy.” The sight of your dripping wet, swollen cunt made Dabi want to completely ravage you right then and there. He could see you pulsating with need - wetness pouring down your legs. “You want me to do something about this, doll?”

All you could manage to do was moan in agreement as you lifted your head to give him permission to do anything he desired.

Dabi kissed your hips, down your thighs, so very close to giving you what you wanted. Your spine arched, perfectly, he thought.

He took your clit in-between two fingers, squeezing the bundle of nerves before giving you a quick lap with the tip of his tongue. The sound that escaped your lips was honest and excited him to the point of insanity. After a few seconds he lapped you again, using his tongue to toy with your folds before closing his lips around to suck on your engorged clit. You cried out, writhing in a fit of euphoria.

“Dabi! Oh - fuck, right there!” Dabi switched motions and took your clit into his mouth, sucking on it before using the tip of his tongue to relentlessly nick your swollen bud as it pressurized in his mouth. You were so wet that the entire bottom of his face was soaked, dripping down his chin and neck.

“I could devour you all night long, dollface, look at me.” Dabi wrapped his arm around your waist to prevent you from grinding your pussy in his mouth, pushing your body down into the bed. The minute you made eye contact with him, your orgasm skipped a few steps in the building process.

“You lick my pussy so fucking good - Dabi!” He raised his eyebrows at your reaction, and before you could finish in more ways than one, he pulled away, knocking the wind right out of your body while a cold chill crept up your spine.

“You’re gonna what?” Dabi teased as he rid himself of the rest of his clothes and positioned himself in between your legs, using the head of his cock to toy with the wet folds of your pussy before tapping your throbbing clit. You closed your eyes and tensed up, focusing because the rhythm was totally just enough to-

He pulled away, sitting back in satisfaction. You were speechless, your legs trembling in frustration. “I’ll ask you this again, y/n. What comes next?”

You were a shuddering, whimpering, melting mess at his words. The tone of Dabi’s voice was so erotic to your ears - and the way he spoke to you, so demanding, so sexy, you thought, was a way no one had ever spoken to you before. And you wanted more. You needed more.

“Mm,” You moaned, feeling like you were losing yourself to a darkness, and you were going to let it happen. “Touch me - make me yours. Fuck me, kiss me, just don’t stop, please!” He could tell you couldn’t take it anymore but something inside of him wanted to make this so much worse for you, to drag it out as long as possible.

You threw your head back, losing your reflexes to resist touching yourself.

Dabi snickered, leaning down to purr in your ear, pinning your hands above your head. “Be a good doll and beg for it, then.”

His words caused your lascivious desire to take over, and he was pushed back against your headboard, his arms and legs wrapped in the chains of your quirk. The chains snaked around the supports of your bed, leaving his cock wide open to do as you pleased. The delirium accompanied filled Dabi’s head with ecstasy, leaving him fully vulnerable to your advances. You climbed on top of him and sank your pussy down agonizingly slow to get used to his size. He threw his head back, moaning in a way that sent jolts straight to your sopping wet sex. With a wave of your hand, you banished the chains, looking at Dabi, who was clear-minded and perplexed. 

“Wow.” Was all he could say as he gripped your hips and rammed up into you. “You wanna tie me up, is that it?” He said through gritted teeth as he kept you still, vigorously pumping into you. “You wanna have it your way, baby? You want me to shut up so you can fuck me like you want it done? Is this how you want it? Ugh, fuck!” Your skin turned red as his cock continued to massage your velvet lining, your liquid splashing with every thrust.

Your arms rose up and twined in your hair, your breasts bouncing in just the right way to drive him absolutely crazy. The room was filled with the wet noises of this long awaited night - the moans coming from both of you fulfilling the carnal desires deep within.

“Dabi, please let me come!”

He sat up, snaking an arm around your waist to throw you backwards. You locked eyes, both of you struggling to breathe, heaving for dear life. “You feel so good, doll, you like that cock, yeah?” 

Dabi sat up on his knees, pulling your waist off of the bed so you were flush against him - his cock bottoming out as far as it could go. He used one hand under your back to keep you raised, and his other one to push your chest into the mattress.

He leaned over you for a brief moment to collide in a kiss - the best one of his life. With you. Only you.

You cried out as he fucked you and gave you everything you needed - everything he could think of giving you. Your hands trailed along his chest to keep him against you, wrapping your arms around his scarred neck to beg for more.

Dabi growled at the sensation rising in his body and ripped away from you, using both hands on your hips to viciously fuck into you - giving you pure, relentless, unadulterated ecstasy. 

“Come all over my cock, dollface, do it! You know you want to.” Dabi brought his thumb to your clit, softly rubbing in wide, fast circles. The stimulation inside was matching perfectly with what he was offering your clit, filling your body with something deep and intense. 

Dabi’s eyes widened at the feeling of constant streams of wetness, coating his cock and running down his legs. He smirked. “That’s it, y/n, you have permission.” Dabi, nearing his own release, started to shake and bite his lip. “You’re making such a fucking mess!” He growled and threw his head backward, his vision becoming hazy as he rolled his head on his shoulders.

“Da-bi, Dabi!” You screamed out in a lustful moan that was like candy to his ears.

“Yes, that’s it, say my fucking name!”

“I’m gonna cum-ah! Dabi!”

The sight before him was absolutely gorgeous - you - body flushed, drenched in sweat, writhing in rapture as your body exploded into a blended orgasm, your squirting pussy gripping him as you tried to milk him of his own release. But he was so focused on you that he delayed his own orgasm until you were at your tail end. Your body shuddered as he came inside of you, squeaking at the feeling of your pussy being filled with his warmth.

“Y/n,” Dabi moaned, leaning down to pull you in a warm embrace. Your fingers ran through his hair as he salted your neck and cheek with wet kisses and whispers of praise in your ear. “I could get used to this,” he softly growled into your ear, laying on his side to spoon you into him.

The lust and euphoria began to fade, and you two were left to cope with the left over feelings of what transpired. You rolled over, Dabi softly brushing the hair out of your face. This soft side of him was something you never thought he had in him and you wanted to cherish every second of it - not ruin it with a slew of unspoken questions and feelings. Instead, the two of you softly, and passionately kissed yourselves into an accidental sleep.

Both of you wished that you had stayed home to live another night like it. To feel your body cradled close to him - for both of you to experience more of what you had been putting off for so long.

“Keep going, y/n.” He urged you when you hadn’t said anything else, squeezing your shoulder with his arm. 

But you were unable to speak anymore. The only sounds escaping were cracked whimpers.

He reached his head down in front of your face, a soft smile forming in the corner of your lips as your beautiful life left your eyes - your arms dropping to your sides as he gave you his final kiss. “I love you, doll.”

Those were the last words Dabi said to you.

He picked your body up and ran towards the little secluded place in the woods that he had learned to call home, and he filled the gap of your conversation with dozens of memories as if you were merely asleep in his arms. When he couldn’t physically go any further, he laid your body on the ground, and set every tree in sight ablaze before getting back to his task at hand.

He had to push you into the back of his mind along with the people he chose to forget about. With you, he had no choice but to forget. Another page torn from the story he was living. He put the walls he let you tear down back up, this time, forever.

Ultimately, he would never forget you. You gave him the first happy experience he’ll ever have, and with every move he continues to make, you will always play a part in them. No matter how hard he tries to forget.

[thejudgingtrash]

THANK YOU for bringing up Hera’s treatment in pjo and in general myths. She deserved better characterization. I can’t really think of any myths Hera’s involved in where she is anything but victim of Zeus or lashing out at innocents. There’s plenty of negative, Sure, but Hera’s positive traits obviously EXIST bc otherwise why would people, especially women, have worshipped her back then? But just as her violent nagging sitcom wife character was favored by ancient men writing, rick follows that.

I hard agree anon.

I have to admit that I’m a strong Hera advocate and I feel that she’s largely misunderstood and misrepresented. Sometimes on purpose. Again, sexism. More on that later.

Yes, she did horrible deeds in consideration to hunting the affair products of her husband down. They’re innocent bystanders. But her hands are tied as she can’t directly punish Zeus because he is the higher-up in the pantheon. Flimsy excuse? Probably. But degrading her for feeling her pain? Shitty move, in my opinion. Also she’s one of many gods that did horrible things (from our modern point of view). There are few that (would’ve) acted better than her when it comes to revenge and rage.

Let’s be honest - who wouldn’t burst into tears and boiling anger when their partner arrives at home, says “Yeah, by the way I impregnated another woman,” and essentially gives it a thumbs up and pops some bubblegum?

Hera is one of the most important gods because her domains directly involve us. Family. Marriage. Women. The sky and the stars of heaven. Children. A certain type of love, if you want to say so. I interpret it that way. There’s a reason why her cult exists. Riordan could’ve done so so much and yet... he didn’t. And my question is simply why?

Tackling Greek myth is very difficult as tales and personas of the gods vary from each narrative and Greek culture. The way Riordan approached them just doesn’t give them proper representation as their fundamentals, their basis, pretty much lack from the get go, however. This is largely due to the world building as the PJO series touches on Greek myth aspects but really doesn’t dive into them. We’re supposed to follow Percy and co. and not necessarily the surroundings.  The monsters get a sorta better rep than the actual gods as they’re truly side characters and thus lack fundamental development. I mean, PJO started as a bedtime story for a little boy, so no wonder that monster slashing is a larger focal point.

I appreciate Riordan for trying, but he as someone who (I think) even taught about mythology in school, could’ve done a different approach. However, I’m getting off-track. Riordan wrote the goddesses in such a degrading and sexist manner while gods are essentially these cool dudes. I mean just look at how Poseidon got his “Shane Dawson docu-series revamp” in PJO. He went from rather cold and unapproachable to “dad of a year” in a book or two. I mean - how and why?

And Hera is reduced to the cold-hearted bitch that does nothing but hunt kids... because...of what exactly now? And like I said, other goddesses (i.e. Aphrodite and Demeter) got a sorta redemption arc through the fandom. Hera doesn’t get that. It’s pretty much the polar opposite. I mean there’s this post floating around talking about Percabeth not marrying because Hera would be the one starting shit. I saw that and my mind immediately went ???? That post has 2k notes for some reason. That post is the perfect depiction (nothing against OP! I know it was a gag but still) of what’s wrong with Hera’s depiction in the series. And probably beyond that in general.

There’s literally no reason for her to go after the kids of other gods...? They’re none of her concern and I’m pretty sure she’d be way too busy to start stuff with people “just because she can”.

It’s easy for people to put Hera into this “evil monster”-box because it’s a sorta victim blaming approach. Instead of focusing on the root of the issue (Zeus), you rather focus too much on her methods/behavior and don’t question why it exists in the first place. Because putting the woman into the evil category is much easier (and more fun!). We see evil men all the time so you’re kinda desensitized to it. But when it’s a woman - dramatic gasp! And when you place her into the evil stepmother box? Perfect! More reasons to irrationally hate her. Sounds like projection from too many bland fairytales at best, but okay.

With the Trials of Apollo Riordan gives another perspective into the abuse of Zeus but I still find it disheartening that even Apollo sees nothing more but the spiteful stepmother in Riordan’s narration. If Apollo had all of these negative experiences with his father as well as Hephaestus and Ares in Greek canon and Hera in Greek canon (hell, she didn't even want to marry Zeus, she was tricked into it and r*ped), it’d be safe to assume that Hera as his wife and someone closer to that dude, mayhaps suffers even more. (Doesn’t diminish the stuff that Apollo went through, but I don’t like the way his thoughts are presented to Hera in regards of the TOA series).

It’s apparent that people love to hate Hera and I hate to see it.

[djmarinizelablog]

hi! read your last ask and you said that you took up creative writing classes so you might have a wider knowledge about this but i was wondering when u mentioned different writing styles (like minimalistic, hightened imagery, linear vilennete and all of that) could you maybe explain the difference and what they really mean and maybe examples in our own levihan nation and writers? this might be asking for too much but i was pretty lost and i'd like to know more about all that. however you are def free to ignore this too!

Did you just ask me to write a comprehensive poetics essay, Anon? (I love writing about writing lmao)

Super long post ahead, and I’ll be citing certain fanfics that I’ve read so far and those that I think somehow exemplifies all the different writing styles I mentioned in the previous post. 

First off, the ones I listed beforehand (minimalistic prose, heightened imagery, poetic language, linear narrative, non-linear vignettes) aren’t the only types of writing styles. There are more if you consider the variations of tone (humor/comedy, sentimental, macabre, noir etc), narration/perspective (first person, second person, third person omniscient/limited), and language (dialogue-heavy or action/scene-driven). And the nice thing is that you can actually use of one or two of them in your work---or all of them, if you’re feeling bold. 

As Hange always loves to do: “Let’s experiment!”

--------

I’ll start with minimalistic prose. It is what it is: short, clear, and concise. Think less is more. You have an economy with words where you disregard most adverbs and focus more on the context to make way for meaning, thus allowing the readers to create their own interpretations of your writing. I think the method here is to write your intended draft first, and then cut the unnecessary words to flesh out the scene even more.

Notice how @stereobone wrote this paragraph of Black Dog (an Eruri fic):

Isabel's voice wakes him, brother, brother, has him sitting upright in bed and grabbing for the knife under his mattress. He braces himself for the attack before he realizes there isn't one. There is nothing in the darkness but him and his heavy, panicked breathing. Levi's heart feels like it's trying to beat its way out of his chest. He drops the knife on the mattress and shuts his eyes and tries not to think about Farlan's bloody resigned face before he was eaten. He tries not to think about how he left them. How it's his fault.

It’s very simplistic in language; the paragraph lets you focus on Levi’s innermost thoughts while he deals with an external action (ie, having nightmares). The author hasn’t unraveled the rest of the plot yet, but you already know where the tension is coming from.

Next is heightened imagery. If you’re familiar with the different figures of speech (metaphor, simile, personification, hyperbole, etc), then this is where they all come into play. I think the challenge here is being able to balance it well with the text itself and make sure that the imagery actually clarifies the context of the paragraph instead of convoluting the intended meaning. 

Here’s an excerpt from A Dangerous Game by just_quintessentially_me:

Hanji watched Levi, standing there, head bent and bloodied handkerchief pressed against his arm, and was reminded, irrationally, of a night years ago. When her parents had taken her to the circus. [. . . .] Holding her parent’s hands, she’d gaped, head craned back as she watched the spectacle, a cacophonous mixture of sound and color. At the center of it all, she’d spied a boy. Among the twisting colors and tricks, he alone, was still. [. . . .] The boy was high above, balancing on a platform atop a long pole. In front of him, stretched an audaciously thin rope. Below, no net waited to catch him.

[. . . .]

When Levi looked up, his expression was set - like the boy before the tightrope. And she knew, with sinking certainty, he was going to take the step. Into thin air.

Gray eyes met her gaze and held it.

“Yeah. I’ll go.”

At the door, Kenny smiled.

See how the powerful imagery of the boy on the tightrope was able to fuel the tension in that moment among Levi, Hange, and Kenny? 

I think poetic language is akin to heightened imagery, except that the former is more focused on the actual language. It’s very lyrical, wherein you can actually hear the lulling song of the sentences in a rhythm. One of my favorite works that does this is Deep sea baby by @smallblip. Here she makes use of various setting and scenery to create this entire atmosphere of Levi and Hange’s relationship:

Hanji knows whatever life they've led, this is her favourite.

The one in which her and Levi see the sea for the first time together.

The one in which she’s the Commander, and him, her Captain. And between them, a river of words left unsaid threatening to break the banks.

One day they must cross the ocean, but today they visit the shores again, without the kids this time. And Levi learns why when he watches her peel at her clothes. Her harness comes off first, then her blouse, then everything else, like a little dance for an audience of one. Levi tries not to stare, but he’s already seen her by candlelight in the dead of the night. And yet she never fails to take his breath away.

She makes her way to where the white foams dredge the past up the shores of the present.

"Come on Levi! The water is warm!" she says, and he hears it like a call to come home- where the heavens collide with the sea.

He takes off his clothes and folds them in a neat pile beside Hanji's mess. He swims out to join her.

It’s hauntingly poetic, the way the author is able to connect the metaphor in “a river of words” to the actual body of water right in front of Levi and Hange. Good poetic language is able to tighten up the texts together while keeping the sentence structure flowing with apt figures of speech.

When it comes to narratives, it only comes down to linear or non-linear. See how @lostcauses-noregrets does her opening statement in Trains (also an Eruri fic):

Levi hates trains. To be fair, Levi hates all forms of public transport, but he reserves a particular loathing for trains. They’re dirty, noisy, smelly and worse, filled with people. People who, heaven forbid, might attempt to speak to Levi, engage him in conversation. Levi’s worst nightmare is being stuck on a train with some friendly fuck who wants to pass the time making small talk. Admittedly it’s not a problem he has to deal with too often, his general fuck off demeanour deters all but the most aggressively friendly and hopelessly inebriated. But that doesn’t stop Levi from hating trains.

It’s a short fic and it’s very dependent on the linearity of events happening. But with that banger of a first sentence, the beginning already gives you enough of an idea of Levi’s pet peeve in the story, which in this case, is trains.

Here’s another hot and steamy fic called keep him waiting by keobuns that shows a linear narrative: 

He’s sitting with them in the back of the lab, nursing a cup of tea — it’s still pretty full, and even cold now, for he was far too distracted listening to Hanji talk to properly drink — when he sees it. Hanji’s too preoccupied with overexplaining the same Titan experiment they’ve gone over a hundred times to notice his stare. They just continue on and on and on, gesturing with their hands, pointing with their fingers, flexing their wrists…

Ah. Levi has to bring his teacup to his lips to hide the way his lips tremble. Hanji has incredibly nice hands.

The entire story just revolves around Levi simping for Hange’s hands and how it all goes down from there. But you as a reader are kept wanting more with every paragraph and every sentence that the author constructs (and trust me, it’s not just the sexual tension between Levi and Hange that keeps us going).

Now, as much as I love the straightforwardness of linear prose, non-linear writing brings a different round of ideas onto the table. It can create recollections from flashbacks, heighten the perspective or interior turmoil of a character due to trauma or grief, or even just re-invent what-if scenes that the characters have imagined themselves. 

Gnossiene by @thatalmondgirl​ is one of my all-time favorite Rivetra fics. In this excerpt, you will see how she switches between the past and the present, and how it affects Petra’s POV as a conflicted character:

Contrary to popular belief (fuck Auruo) Petra actually didn’t cry easily.

Alright, she could admit that at some times, she was...emotional. It was far from a weakness, but even she could admit that they sometimes got in the way and walled off all rational thought. Anger, frustration, sadness, hell, even happiness. The only one she could easily compartmentalise away was fear, which probably stemmed from her military career. Even so. It was never easy to separate all the others from her actions, think from a clean slate like the Commander could do, like the captain. [. . . ] Petra groaned, splayed out across her bed. She drew her arm across her eyes, willing the tears to go away. She’d already blown through her tissue box.

“Petra, a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.” Mama sat on the end of her bed, with Petra on the floor between her legs. Even though Petra argued firmly that she was old enough to brush her own hair, Mama had insisted. Unfortunately, Petra wasn’t old enough - and probably never would be - to disagree with her mother.

“I know, Mama.” Petra grumbled.

“I don’t think you do. Else you wouldn’t be crying, would you?”

[. . . .]

“But a man shouldn’t complete you when you complete yourself. Maybe he’s an extension to your house. So you’ll be sad if the extension is compromised or burns down. But you still have the main house. And if it’s strong, the main house can still be standing even after the worst storm.”

Aside from Mama’s crazy metaphors that sometimes didn’t make sense, her message hit home. Even if it hit home years later.

See how it switched in between the before and after? 

An off-shoot of non-linear writing are vignettes (a layering of scenes separated by section breaks) wherein this writing style allows writers to curate scenes in terms of fragments, creating some kind of mosaic for the readers once they finally see the big picture. Nakimochiku’s I’m leaving, are you coming with me? stacks up scenes of interactions between Levi and Hange, enough to depict the kind of relationship that they have as young lovers in a school setting. You can string these fragments together, rearrange them in a different order, but in the end, you will still get the author's clear goal of highlighting how Levi and Hange’s relationship develops over time.

Those are the styles that I mentioned in my previous posts, but as I’ve told you, there’s more to writing than those, so I’ll give a short run-through of other methods in writing. 

Whether it’s dialogue-heavy works such as from my window to yours, or action-driven scenes like Carnivores (a Levi x Reader fic by CaptainDegenerate) that propel the story forward, we as readers should be able to follow through the actual storyline that the authors intend to take us. 

A third-person limited (we listen to Hange’s thoughts in Clockwork by @tundrainafrica) vis-à-vis an all-knowing/omniscient narration (the moon is dark by @sayonarasanity alternates the perspective of Levi and Hange) should be able to make us understand why the author chose this particular kind of point-of-view in order to tell the story. 

And lastly, having a solid and consistent tone throughout the work (the macabre of Even Humanity’s Strongest could make mistakes by Rimeko versus the sweet sentimentality of Flowers for You by @fanmoose12) should be able to set the atmosphere that the authors want us to imbibe as we read through their works. 

So there’s your crash course on writing and reading. Enjoy? :)