#I tried watching one episode and decided it sucks

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 26

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 4.1k

IMPORTANT a/n: Hi... I said that if the Celtics won I'd post tonight so ya know! Here it is hehe. LETS GO CELTICS

Finally used the scene in Season 1 episode 5 of Narcos of Javi and Murphy in the car. There's a lot of perspective change in this one, this section will be like this most the time just because are characters are so far apart!

Ok bye enjoy

New Orleans 1988

“Do you remember being sixteen?”

You cackle, playing with the golden bee at your lobe, looking up at your student Chiron. He had been eating his lunch in your classroom for about two months since, the cafeterias ac is shit, his words. You dig into the cake your students bought you, they thought you would cancel their monday practice quiz with a little birthday celebration. They were greatly mistaken. 

Today you're twenty-four. Everytime you think of it your brain freezes.

 You remember being sixteen like it’s yesterday. You nod, washing down the store bought dry red velvety mess with water. “Yes. It sucked.”

Chiron laughs just the same, opening the pink milk box on his tray. “When were you sixteen? In 1950?”

You stare at him with your most deadpan look, shaking your head. “I turned sixteen in 1980. I was living in Laredo, Texas and I spent my birthday alone. I received flowers from my… friend and my mom took me dress shopping two days later. What was yours like?” 

You and Chiron talk every day. You know he lives in a group home, you know he gets excited when he gets asked about his own life and even more excited when someone shares stories about theirs. He reminds you everyday that you want to have a son one day, you guess you’ll tell him when he's older. Hopefully then you could introduce your son to him and have a laugh about it. 

Teaching has given you a purpose. Being away from home has given you a purpose. Knowing no one has given you a purpose. You tell him stories all the time, you’re going to sob when he walks across that stage in May. 

“I went to the arcade with Teresa.” Teresa has been his girlfriend since the ninth grade, she went to St. Mary’s. They met doing community service and Chiron knows that they're going to be married. “She bought me this chain with her paycheck from Rouses. Are you doing anything for your birthday?”

You look at the picture of your little sister and niece sat up on her desk. Little three year old Sol holding Frankies babygirl Annie. “I still don’t know anyone out here but my coworkers so I’ll probably order in, watch Dirty Dancing and wait for a call from my brother.” You think of Javier for a moment, wondering if he knows today's your birthday. 

You wonder if you have crossed his mind. 

You saw him in the paper when you went home for christmas, you didn't visit your mother. 

You went home to simply spoil the babies at Frankie's house. You drove right back to your third floor apartment in Nola. Cried into your pillow until you slept and did it all over again for three more nights. Chiron nods, you have told him small stories about your life because he loves to listen. You’re weary of sharing too much, only offering bits you know will make him feel seen. You let him cry when he said he tried to meet his father during Christmas break and he didn’t show. That's when you decided to tell him about your first trip to New Orleans. 

Chiron frowns and sips his milk. He just got a haircut, flat top style, he had been growing his hair out the whole year for it. “Do you think Javier will call you?”

You smile at Chiron. He had been trying to pry information about your former lover for weeks. It all started after Christmas break when he cried about his father. You told him that family can be found anywhere, that your only family for a bit was your best friend who happened to be your boyfriend. 

“Do you live with Javier now?”

You shook your head, “He moved away for work.” Nearly a lie, you didn’t feel it was appropriate to tell your seventeen year old student the painful details of your life. 

Chiron went quiet for a few seconds, his face going inward. Eyes shy and sad, it happens every time he’s asked about his parents.

“So who is your family now?”

Andrea drops her keys on her kitchen counter being greeted by tiny tweets. She grins from ear to ear, placing her purse down on the couch. Walking to her cage, the two birds chirped.

 “Are you singing Happy Birthday to me?” She gets on her tiptoes, offering her fingers to the babies, they take the chance. “Thank you, mommy’s going to watch Dirty Dancing because she’s lonely. Okay?”

She brings Jewel to her face in a phantom kiss while Harvey finds sanctuary on her shoulder. 

She always wanted pets but her mother never allowed it. The second Andrea put down her deposit for her apartment, she hopped in her car and bought two blue budgies. They nipped and scurried away from her each time she approached them but after two months of persistence they finally warmed up to her. They’re now her best friends. She’s become a crazy bird lady. Just in September she left a date abruptly because she realized she hadn't fed them in a day and a half. Its safe to say she didn’t get a call back from Mr. Henning.

She sits on her couch after loading the VHS and yawning. Her birdies flying back to their cage. 

That was the summer of 1963 - when everybody called me Baby, and it didn't occur to me to mind.

At 6pm she receives a call. Her heart sinks and for a moment she thinks, maybe.

But ultimately she knows not to be so silly, she knows she needs to be angry with him but she doesn’t have it in her anymore. She unravels herself from the nest she’s made on her couch and tip toes on the hardwood floor to her home phone. 

She spoke to Genie this morning, receiving a happy birthday song from her brother and their baby’s incoherent babbles. They say little Annie is upset that Tia Andrea lives so far. 

“Hello?” Andrea shushes her birds, they love to chirp when she’s on the phone. 

“Happy Birthday Andrea,”

 And she knows Don Chuchos voice anywhere. 

Andrea closes her eyes at the sound. She knew she couldn’t avoid him forever and she’s riddled with grief at the sound of his voice after nearly two years. 

“Thank you Chucho.” Andrea remembers the way he looked at her when she sat in the blistering heat on Javier’s wedding day. He looked at her knowingly, he could see that beyond the made up face she was on the brink of a breakdown. “How’s everything back home?” 

“You would know if you stopped by to see me last month.”

She winces. When Andrea came home for Christmas she made it her business to be seen by no one. Especially anyone who knew anything about Javi. 

She was finally feeling better. 

Everything was out in the open now, everyone knew their business. The scandal blew through town, she had to leave.

“I know, I'm sorry. I’m just still working through everything that happened. I knew if I stopped by your house it would bring up old memories.” Since Andrea moved to New Orleans she has gone back to Laredo five times. Two of the times she visited her mother, every other time was a straight shot to Frankie’s home. Calling him to make sure he takes Sol for the day so Andrea could see her too. She would spend two lovely nights on their plush couch and drive home the next day. 

Through the crackle of the receiver Chucho hums in understanding. 

In a twisted way Andrea always wanted him to be her father. She loved the idea of marrying Javier for more reasons than one. She wanted to officially be a part of his tiny family she loved so deeply. 

“Would this be a bad time to talk about him?” 

Andrea, the despondent girl. A girl alone, leaning against her lonely walls, a girl belonging to no one. Is a girl who cannot resist hearing about the one she loved. 

Loves. 

“Yes.” She allows it. He complies because she knows he must have no one to talk to about this. 

“He told me last week that he’s seeing a specialist—therapist, once a week.”

She smiles. She remembers the last time they had sex they talked about reaching out for help. She supposes it’s her turn. 

“That’s- I'm relieved to hear that. Is he doing okay out there?” 

Andrea has a reoccurring nightmare. She’s walking to work, the heat is brutal and her hands are full of groceries. In her nightmare, one of the bags rip open, fruit falling on the concrete. Every time, she follows an apple that rolls until it hits a news stand. And there—there she sees his face. There she reads his public obituary, the slain American agent. There she dissolves to nothing and wakes up crying harder than she ever has. She cried until she felt like dissolving into nothing. 

“He spares me details that would send me into a stroke but you know. It’s very dangerous work but he’ll make it back home in one piece. He’s too stubborn to die young.” 

Her eyes flicker to the ground and her chin quivers at his words. “Do you miss him?” Is all she can mutter. She cannot be alone in this feeling. She doesn’t like to feel this way. She liked to believe that she gets along without him well, but sometimes the wind blows and it reminds her of summer nights in his bed and she isn’t sure she could go on lying to herself.

Chucho sighs, “He misses you.” He doesn’t answer your question. He knows what you wanted to ask. “He doesn’t tell me because he’s afraid, but every conversation I can hear it in his voice. He is still grieving being away from you, still grieving being deceived. I know you are too. But I wanted to call to tell you that he is okay. I want you to be okay too, Andrea.”

January 1988 Bogota, Colombia

There isn't much work being done. Scoping out for a sicario in a hundred degree weather wasn't ideal but it left some time for beers and ramblings. Murphy dug his hand into the cup holder for another sip of Club Colombiano. “So what year was this?” Murphy looks over to Javi. It had been almost a week since he last saw Hertz. His next session is in two days. He found himself walking with less weight. He even finally told Murphy the name of the girl whose picture is taped on the corner of his desk.

“1986” Javier rasps. “I was driving to the church. I was with my buddy Frankie. He was my best man.” He nearly whispers the last bit. “We were late. It was fucking blazing, 110 degrees. The whole bridal party was there sweating their balls off I’m sure. Frankie is shaking like a leaf next to me, like he’s fucking getting married. Looking for a lighter for a joint he rolled. Mind you, we're been in my bride's car since she arrived in a limousine.”

“Don’t tell me you left her at the altar.”

Javier deadpans, “Let me finish my story.” Murphy chuckles, pressing the cold beer to his neck. “He opens the glove compartment and some papers fall into his lap. And boom, we hit a traffic jam. Frankie, my best man, being the nosy fuck he his opens up the papers. He goes, three months pregnant as of June 6th, can't believe we’re both having kids. I swear to god–”

“No!” Murphy gasps.

“Yeah, Lorraine, the bride, and I hadn’t had sex since February of that year. She was showing a lot, I never thought twice when she told me she was five months along.” Murphy is staring at him like this was the juiciest television worthy story ever told. Javier looks blankly into the rolling hills of Colombia wondering why this happened to him. “I had dropped everything in my life to rush into a loveless marriage for the convenience of a family that wasn't even mine.” His eyes cast low and he feels sick. “So I turned the car around. And Andrea was there waiting to watch me marry someone else. In the heat.”

Murphy rarely knew who Andrea was other than the pretty ex-girlfriend whose picture is taped on his desk; he didn’t tell him too much. The story is enticing, he supposes. Exhilarating from the outside.

Murphy grins, “Well, you saved her a lifetime of hell.” 

He knows it’s true, his inner monologue being spat right back in his face yet he can’t seem to swallow that reality. He's a weak man, he hoped that Murphy would tell him he was wrong, that he needed to get up on a plane this instant and find his girl.

He’s silent for a moment. “Yeah, she never spoke to me again, Andrea I mean. She’ll probably be married to a-a stock broker or some shit when I come home.” If I come home, he intends to say but decides maybe this wasn’t the moment. “Trust me, she’s better off.”

“I told my partner, Steve Murphy, about the wedding.”

“That's amazing, Javier.” She sits back down in her brown leather chair, sipping her tea from her small yellow thermo. “How did you feel afterward?” Javier went home to drink himself to sleep. He decides to keep that detail to himself, before reaching forward to sip water instead of fulfilling his urge to light up.

“I felt like I’ve taken some sort of step forward. Then I remembered how it was telling Andrea. Then I felt like I regressed once again, I didn't wake up for work the next morning. This Tuesday I mean.” She’s taking it all in, yet something i n her twinkles. He sees her satisfaction, she knows this is a shy way of telling her he’s ready to talk about it again. Things are changing for him so quickly.

“We were cut for time last week.”

“We were.”

“So,”

“So.” Javier's eyes jet to the plush rug below him. “I walked to her house the night I agreed to marry Lorraine.”

June 18th 1986

He stopped by The Tap before strolling his way into your neighborhood. Sitting on a barstool like he would do back in High School, eyes peeled to the door wondering if his mother would miraculously walk in. This time he doesn’t drink so much, he pushes three beers back and feels sad enough to see you. Sad enough to break your heart. Liquid courage? Is that what they call it? He feels a buzz in his spine.

Somehow he ends up at your door. 

 “Javi, are you alright? It's late.” You whisper, closing the front door behind you. It reminds him of the time he walked to your house after getting wasted. Catching you in Cabaret makeup, you turning bright red under white paint. 

This time you’re bare faced and so much more of a woman. Javier studies you in a buzzed haze, you’re concerned and it’s pissing him off. There you are, barefoot on your porch. Caught off guard and still the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. You step down one step. He wants to drop to his knees and apologize. 

You sense his sorrow so you step back up to be near to his height, placing your hands on his face. Holding his face, “Baby, are you okay?” He knows your worried little face, he knows that somehow in that brain of yours—you’re conspiring what you could have done wrong. Yet it’s never you, it’s always him. You’ve never done wrong.

“Hey…” You whisper, attempting to soothe his quivering chin with a kiss. 

He looks away. Looking into your eyes will kill him. Rejecting your kiss all together. “I’m sorry.” Javier’s voice breaks, and he isn’t embarrassed but he wants to die. He wants it to end because he feels your body go cold without even having to look at you. He’s crying and hiding his face, holding you close and hard. Sobbing into your chest, staining your gray shirt like you did his when he left the first time. “I’m so sorry—I knew I wouldn’t be right for you—Querida, I’m sorry.”

----

He crushes your body with his. He’s muttering words about a wedding, a pregnancy and you’re being crushed. You’re losing air and you hope he squeezes you tighter, hope your eyes fog and you fall. 

Hope to wake up in a cold sweat, and it's all a bad dream. Hope to call him to hang out at the lake.  

He’s crying, and its the worst sound you’ve ever heard. Saying he didn’t mean to become a father. He doesn’t mean to hurt you. He doesn’t know why he hurts you. He says he doesn’t want to be married to her. Calling you sweet names and cursing his own. 

You tell him over and over that it’s okay. Yet you hope he crushes you until you disappear.

 “It’s okay—Javi please, it’s okay— I understand.” You run a hand through his hair and lower your bodies to sit on the steps. It’s 2 am. He’s drunk and unable to give you details without crying in your lap now but you know all that you need to know.

When you saw her—Lorraine. When you saw her wide nose and round little belly you felt fear running through your veins. And you slept with that panic, you dismissed it but your bones felt it. Your intuition told you that the two of you will never be the same. You saw him stare at her belly for a second too long and there—right there— you knew you were in the way of something. 

Eventually he feels okay enough to sit up straight. He still can’t look at you and you miss him in your lap when he does. You miss being able to hide yourself from him. You miss being able to shut your eyes in agony at each word of consolation. Now he can see you, even if he doesn’t look you in the eye he can see you. 

You’re able to understand that she’s five months, that they gave him a choice. To never see her and his child, child— his child— or get married. Through it all you tell him it’s okay. 

“I don’t think I have another choice— I can’t be.-“

“A deadbeat.” You finish for him and he doesn’t respond. The two of you have a million unspoken words between the two of you. 

Look at me, look at what happens when you abandon your child. Look what girls like me put up with. Look at me, you hurt me and I'm still thinking of ways to make it work in my broken little brain. 

He knows what his mother did, how could he ever? How? So you could never find it in you to be angry. 

“I’m sorry— I just can’t.” 

You shut your eyes and lean back into the steps of your home. The sky was bright that night, you couldn’t understand why the universe still presented its beauty during such a moment. 

“When will you get married?” You suppose maybe you like to hurt yourself. 

“They said two weeks.” 

You drop your head into your hands and let out a sob. Heart slamming against your ribs, drowning in it. You fear that you’ll become one with earth, a puddle seeping into the grass ahead of you. You feel his panic next to you. He’s whispering your name, and tearing against the back of your head. Your shoulders wrack and you try to speak.

But you decide silence is all you can handle.

So you stay like this for a few minutes.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” You ask finally, pathetically. 

And he’s quick to nod, “Yes—please.” His deep voice sends a vibration down your spine. And the two of you walk into your home, without fear—no room for such a silly feeling. 

He undresses and you do too. 

He faces the ceiling and you fear neither of you will catch any hours tonight. You still curl into his chest, for the last time. Feeling his warm tan skin below your ear. You count his heartbeats for minutes at a time. You count your own, attempting to make it stop on your own. Your stomach hurts so badly, you may cry just from that. But you think that you’re a twenty two year old woman who is somehow all cried out. You think of the sun coming up and him getting up to leave, you wonder what the next two weeks will look like. 

You’re sure that if you could you’d stay just like this, together and avoidant until it’s time. Just like you planned a week ago when your only fear was him leaving to Colombia. 

You know he’d do the same because the two of you love pain like no other. You stay in your inferno of a brain for nearly an hour. You know he can’t sleep. 

“What are we going to do?” He asks and you frown. 

“Go our separate ways.”

“I don’t want to.” He’s quick to respond, angry.

“I know.”

“Do you want to?”

“No. But I have to. You have to.” 

“As long as I know you, I'll want you, Andrea.”

You shut your eyes and breathe. You hope he forgets you. You hope you can. You suppose you have to try. 

“After the wedding, I don’t think I’ll ever want to speak to you again.”

You feel him intake a shaky breath. Your heart breaks again. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

His chest rises, “It’s okay. I understand.” You nod, the post of the earrings he bought you scraping his skin. “We probably shouldn’t see each other after today.” He admits and you know he’s right.

“Yeah.”

“Do you think I could be a bridesmaid?” You attempt to joke and he doesn’t laugh. You can’t tell what he does but he shivers. 

“Not funny.” 

“I’m sorry.” You exhale. And there the two of you are pensive. Already missing each other. 

He sighs and it's silent once more. “I really love you.”

You sigh just the same and you love him more. You decide you couldn’t say it out loud this time.

Colombia 1988

His elbow is rested on the arm of the chair and his mouth is pressed to a fist. Eyes closed for a few moments. He thinks of the silence of that night, how he hasn't heard you say I love you since. The words that kept him going, but fuck it, he didn’t feel like he deserved it. He made their life such a mess, over and over again. Again his brain regresses to that of a child, of his own head when he was eleven, when he tore up his mothers room and stained her poetry with his tears. 

He has spent two years suffering, he knows there will be no winning. He lost you. He came here prematurely hoping to win in some way. To bring some good, save some people but he realized there's no winning here either. Just suffering and corruption. The longer he watches people die he swears his faith chips slowly with it.

So he looks over his shoulder once or twice when he leaves his session. There were very few words spoken by Dr. Hertz but what can you do when his story silences so many?

He wishes it could silence his own thoughts but instead it festers and crowds his brain in the most crucial moments. Like when he led a raid in a bar in Medellin and swore the woman who sat at the bar with a gun to her head was you. In genuine panic he freezes, the casualties raised from 24 to 25 at that moment. All because of you—him—all because of his thoughts of you, plaguing him.

And he thinks of you in the most insignificant moments. Insignificant like burying himself deep in the cunt of a woman who’s being paid. He thinks of you and can't keep it up from the guilt. What a curse it is to feel so deeply about someone. 

He remembers once, you lie beside him half asleep and mumbling like you did after sex. You said that sometimes love scares you so much that for a time you wished to never feel it. He thought of you so crazy, he fears he understands you now. 

[llycaons]

im so mad that I can't find my post about how none of the wheely time protagonists (OR antagonists) seem to have genuine relationships with each other or truly care about each other or are even friends because apparently that dissonance translated into the show as well. see this excerpt from the vulture's episode three review

No sooner are our heroes split up in that shadow city in the last episode than they wind up in three completely different landscapes, facing completely different threats and encountering completely different allies. What it lacks in recognizable human emotions and drives, it makes up for — or tries to, anyway — in sheer storytelling scope. Will this ploy be successful? Only (the Wheel of) time will tell.

this is so funny. even the vastly modified adaptation couldn't save this story from it's atrocious character relationship writing. and this isn't even the only review to say 'the dynamics between these characters make no sense and this isn't how people act" it's just the only one I could remember

[mo-mode]

Back on my Screenwriter soap box while watching PJO: They should have bought a bunch of oil diffusers.

(Edit: This post was made before someone pointed out to me that I missed a key line of dialogue, but my points and theories still stand for the same reasons backing up my original post so I’m not changing anything. The dialogue I missed lets us know that Hermes told Percy the lotus was being pumped into the air off-screen. It’s also implies (? I’m still on the fence about this one?) that Hermes told him what day it is, but I missed these during my first three watches because of how quick and vague it was. Which actually kind of supports my point on why visual indicators are so important. Without these, it’s easy to miss key information. And remember, it’s a kid’s show. ANYWAY my conclusions haven’t changed, and I still believe these edits would work better than the quick line of dialogue so just keep this in mind. Thanks.)

(I’m not being nit-picky. I swear. Just hear me out.) So the weirdest thing to me in episode six was how Percy just…learned everything so quickly without any visual indicators? Like they know time passed because it’s dark outside, but how did he know it was Thursday? They know they were affected by the lotus flowers, but how does he know it was pumped into the air? This irked me because even if he’s smart enough to figure some of this out himself (which he is) we as the audience should still be able to follow his thought process instead of learning after the fact.

What if there were oil diffusers?

So imagine the trio walks into the Lotus, figures out this is like the Odyssey, and decides not to eat anything. They waltz in super confident that they cracked the code, but they were wrong. How do we know? Because the moment they enter the crowd, we get an establishing shot of a lotus-branded oil diffuser letting out steam.

Immediately, we as the audience realize their mistake, making it just that more tantalizing to watch. As the episode continues, we realize they’re everywhere. There’s a diffuser in the plants, on the counter, between the game tables, always right out of the corner of our eyes. They just keep churning out lotus-scented oil into the air, which we can infer because we’re smart. (Remember that.)

Now when Percy realizes what’s going on, we know HOW they’re doing it and HOW Percy knows without being told!! Because they were there the whole time.

Onto Thursday.

Consider: A watch.

What if Hermes has the only watch in the casino until the trio walks in with their own?

Let’s give Annabeth one of those cheap, funky watches that gives the time, day, month, year, etc. Something you get from a kids toy catalogue. It’s waterproof, glows in the dark, has an alarm or whatever. I feel like Annabeth would have one of those. (And honestly, she might already. I forgot.) The most important feature for us, though, is the day. It clearly tells us the day of the week.

It’s pretty easy to establish that Annabeth has the watch. Just do it the same way they establish the date: Percabeth arguing over it in the truck. Annabeth shows him the watch. Establishing shot of the watch’s face. That’s it. No bells or whistles necessary. Then when they get to the casino, Annabeth checks it one more time (without an establishing shot, she just does it casually) and they walk in.

(It’s so easy. I promise.)

While Grover is walking around alone, he tries to check the time and realizes there’s no clocks. (Which ngl is super common in casinos already, but it’s creepy nonetheless.) Yada yada, he gets sucked in by Augustus and that’s how he gets got.

Meanwhile, Percy and Annabeth keep meaning to check the time, but every time they do, someone tries to hand them an appetizer or a drink, which makes them forget OR Annabeth’s hubris keeps her from checking. (Percy: Time check? Annabeth: Its only been five minutes. We’re fine. We need to focus.)

And that brings us to Hermes. After their chat, yada yada, Annabeth “leaves” and Hermes gets all cryptic, then he makes a BIG show of checking his watch, and THAT’S when Percy realizes something’s wrong because oh no they haven’t checked the time. So he finds Annabeth, they see it’s dark outside, they check her watch, and it’s Thursday.

“But we didn’t eat anything!” Annabeth says. Percy looks at the diffusers by the entrance. It dawns on him. “They’re pumping it into the air.”

That’s how you VISUALLY SHOW US THINGS instead of Percy just figuring everything out off-camera and telling us!!!!

Now, you may be thinking “Oh but do they have the budget for that??” Do you know how cheap these props are? Just bulk buy like six oil diffusers, slap a homemade sticker of a lotus flower on them, and keep moving them into every shot. And they’re quiet!! They wouldn’t interfere with the sound, the steam is visible enough to be caught on camera without messing with the lighting, they actually look really cool in some lighting, and they fit the atmosphere of a hotel/casino!! Then the watch is like $15, fits with Annabeth’s character, and totally matches her outfit.

It’s CHEAP! It’s EASY! It DOESN’T CUT INTO THE RUN TIME! It’s AESTHETICALLY PLEASING! ANNABETH GETS A SICK WATCH!! NO DOWNSIDES!!!!

The biggest problem with this show isn’t how accurate it is to the book or how much money they have or that they’re “Disney-fying” it. The problem is they are TELLING US things instead of SHOWING us. And not to beat a dead horse because everyone’s heard of “Show Don’t Tell” but like??? This is exactly why everyone is taught this over and over again in school?? Because people still do it anyway all the time???

There’s also something else I learned (or really just picked up) when I got my B.A. in Creative Writing: Good shows are predictable.

Whether it’s a case of the audience learning what’s going to happen before it happens or them watching the show again and realizing how obvious the answer was the whole time, audiences always want to feel smart. They want to interact with the material. If you don’t give them the opportunity to pick apart the mystery themselves by setting down clues, they’ll give up on interacting with the show and lose interest. That’s why you SHOW them things. There are several moments where this show is completely unpredictable, not because it’s complex but because it doesn’t let you predict it. That doesn’t make it bad—the comedy and character development is doing a great job of carrying the show’s weight so far. But it definitely doesn’t make the show good.

It’s like Rube Goldberg machines. Or dominoes! We don’t watch those crazy 1000+ domino videos so we can watch the last one fall. We watch it to see HOW they fall. Take one domino out, and it’s unsatisfactory. It doesn’t work anymore.

But some oil diffusers and a watch??? Little clues that make the realization that more visually appealing??? THAT’S SATISFYING

Anyway, these are just two things that could have been done, but weren’t. Most of the show is stellar. I think it just needs a little bit of editing here and there. I studied this for like years, and I needed to get this off my chest. That’s it.

Rick Riordan, if you ever see this, I am available for hire :) I would love to be a script doctor please please please please

[lowkeycasanova]

baby it's hot out here

sanji x f!reader

plot: sanji seeing you innocently suck on a popsicle gives him inappropriate thoughts

warning: smut (18+)

It was hot.

Brutally hot.

The weather in the New World was unpredictable. From boulder sized hail, lighting rain, and now scorching rays. The relentless sun beat down on the Thousand Sunny. The air felt thick and stifling, as if nature conspired to make taking each breath a conscious effort.

The cool breeze of the ocean seemed to have abandoned the ship, leaving you all subject to the oppressive heat.

Amidst the sweltering conditions, everyone sought refuge where they could find it.

Luffy was sprawled out on the deck, his hat covering his face. Zoro was in the shadow of the ship's mast, still practicing his swordsmanship with beads of sweat running down his face, with Franky and Brook sitting close by. Usopp leaning over the edge of the ship in an attempt to catch whatever breeze was sent his way.

You, Nami, Robin, and Chopper, who diligently tried to cool himself with a handheld fan, laid in the shadows on the deckchairs.

"It's so hot, I'm sweating cola." Franky announces.

"You know," you heard Brook say as he flexed his arm and leaned on it like a pillar for support. "If you pretend it's a sauna, it's actually not so bad."

Sanji was in the kitchen, determined to whip up a refreshing drink for you ladies. Everyone else can get their own.

Bringing the drinks out, he makes his way over to you, Nami, and Robin, leaning down like a gentleman, offering the glasses.

"Thank you Sanji." Robin says politely and his heart skips a beat.

Nami takes one as she continues to examine her log pose.

"Thanks but, can I get one of those popsicles we just got?" You asked him, lifting up your sunglasses. It was at the last island the crew was at where you were gifted with a bag of these treats called popsicles that you never had before and had the desire to try.

"Of course, love. Anything you want." He replied with a suave grin. He made his way back to the kitchen, pulling out the bag from the freezer, ready to present it to you in a flourish.

You squeal in delight as you rummage through the assortment, Sanji watching with a lazy grin. You waste no time tearing the plastic wrap off a blue raspberry flavored one, bringing it to your lips. And it's so hot that it seemingly starts to melt already.

Sanji eyes a cherry one, but decides against taking it. He didn't need the sugar.

He puts the rest back in the freezer and walks back out on the deck with his own glass of ice water. He momentarily takes his cigarette out of his mouth to take a sip of water and he glances back at the beautiful ladies laid out adjacent from him.

Right then, you hold the treat in your mouth, as you take of your shirt, leaving you clad in a bikini top and shorts, leaving little to the imagination.

That alone would send Sanji over the edge, but now paired with the fact that your lips are stretched around the popsicle, sinking lower to the base and back up again, eyes fluttering closed.

His eyes go wide and his throat dry. He watches you slowly pull back off it, a sweet hum coming from your mouth and the wet noise pierces his ears.

His mind is going crazy. His cock is getting hard. Your eyes are closed and Sanji knows it's in part because it's hot and because you're enjoying the sweet treat, but part of him wonders if that's what you'd look like after getting fucked by him.

He tries to shake the thoughts away. He can't have one of his episodes right now. But the more he thinks, the more he can see it play out.

Him sitting on the bed, you kneeling down on the floor in front of him while you suck him off.

He's brought back to reality. You're in conversation with Nami, laughing at something she said, while using your tongue sweep over the length of the popsicle. Then using your thump to wipe away some of the stickiness from your lips.

Sanji was hanging by a thread. He abruptly sticks the cigarette back in his mouth and storms off, ignoring Franky's call.

"What's the matter bro?"

Luffy lifts his hat up and shrugs. "Maybe he has a stomach ache."

His cock gets harder with every step he takes. Making a beeline for the bathroom, he rushes in and immediately locks the door. He undos his belt, tugs his pants down, and frees the part of his shirt that was tucked in.

His back is pressed against the wall, head thrown back. His chest heaves with heavy breaths as he squeezes his length. He feels the pangs of a sinful conscious. Nami would punch him into next week if she found out that he had gotten off to the thought of you like this.

Maybe that's what makes it more exhilarating.

His eyes flutter closed and the cig is long gone. It must have fell out when he was coming here. But no matter. His thumbs his tip, spreading his arousal over himself.

"Fuck, love." he breathes. He can see it now. You on your knees with your delicate little hand around his throbbing dick. He feels himself spasm in his hand.

A groan escapes his mouth as his clenched fist begins to move up and down his thick shaft.

He imagines you wrapping your mouth around him. The soft feeling of your cheeks as his tip nudges that little dangly thing in the back of your throat. "Yes, mhm, take it. Such a good girl." he sighs. "Keep sucking for me, just like that. You know how to do it."

His knees are shaking and his dick is throbbing and leaking. He's soaked from his own arousal but so badly wants it to be from your own.

Your pussy. Oh god.

Now he can't stop picturing your swollen lips and pulsing clit. His imagination will be the death of him. The idea of you laying back for him, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can see him, and spreading your thighs.

He gets comfortable and puts a finger in between your soft folds. You're dripping for him. Him.

His hand picks up the pace and feels this tingly sensation in his stomach.

He slaps his tip against your clit a few times. That makes you arch your back as he pushes his way in. The feeling of being stretched makes your walls tighten. He gulps, trying to compose himself. "So fucking tight."

Your pussy squelches with every thrust, breasts are bouncing and nipples erect. You're desperate, begging him for more.

The veins in his head and the muscles in his neck pop. He's a grunting mess. Gritting his teeth, using the stamia he has left to focus. He is too far gone to tease himself.

He now sees you still laying on your back, but you're giving him a handjob. Milking him for all he's got.

"Ugh, fuck!" he cried out, slamming his back against the wall as he cums. It's thick and white and he imagines cumming all over your chest. But in reality, the sticky arousal is all over his hand.

His cock softens in his hand and he breathes to try to calm down. Sanji takes a look at the mess he made, letting out a blissed, fucked out laugh, not even trying to hide the smile on his face.

[livelaughlovesubs]

I think despite how well he plays himself off all the time, Dazai still has depressive episodes sometimes when he's alone. Imagine coming home early and catching him in such a vulnerable state. Fuck him nice and sweet- show him how much you love him despite everything -🦀

Yk what, this will be the second part of that maid dazai fic. And I’ll make it sweet enough that you get a stomachache. Also- @amo-bsd

Part one!

Dom!reader x sub!dazai - reader is gender neutral

Warning: pegging (can be read as a dick), teasing, praise kink, marking - hickeys, handjob, dacryphilia, role play, lingerie

“You want me to defile you?” A low voice so hypnotising it send shivers down his spine echoed through the room. His gaze showed absolut devotion, legs spread on the couch just the way you wanted. “…yes, please.” The brunette gasped, his left hand helping you hold his skirt up while his right one reached behind him. The way his chest heaved with each breath, lips trembling whenever he had to part them, made you go crazy about him. With a single tug, he opened the tie of his apron, making space for you. You rubbed his entrance again, gently tapping it. That was all it took to make him squirm and shut his eyes due to ecstasy. “Uh-uhHhm..!” Dazai whined through gritted teeth, the blush that was spreading across his cheeks intensified. His puffy hole kept clenching whenever you touched him, and loosening up once your digits leave.

“Look at how sensitive you are,” You commented while leaning closer towards him, face now inches away from his. “Ha-haah.. if you know then stop teasing me.” He tried to stand his ground, noticing you brought the end of his dress near him. Afterwards you uttered a single command, “Bite onto this.” Normally he would have talked back and made a scene, though for now he decided to be obedient. This surprised you a little, yet it wasn’t a bad feeling. Guess your dear lover can be good at times? Carefully, he bit the fabric, after a little while it was soaked with his saliva already. “Good boy.” You cooed when you saw this cute scene, kissing his forehead while your weaker hand slipped to his waist.

His brows were furrowed, eyes half lidded as he watched your demonstrations. Fingers leaving his bottom and now teasing his tip. A milky, sticky liquid stuck to the latex glove. The more you rubbed over his soaked panties, the darker the spot got. Now you were smirking sweetly, whispering playfully “you are getting so wet for me.” After you finished your sentence, you could swear more precum spurt out of his slit. Did that comment embarrass him? His tender and slim body trembled ever so slightly, eyes sparkling and begging you to do more. “How adorable.” You added, before licking his earlobe.

The boy jerked, hands clutching the dress to hold it up higher. Then he closed his eyes, clenching them tightly enough for a single tear to run down his cheek. Mind racing and heart pounding while your hand kept playing with his dick. “Hmm..hngh..” soft whimpers left him, and his eyes became watery, more tears were about to spill. Slowly you changed from his ear to his neck, kissing and sucking on multiple spots. Leaving a trail of marks behind. Only a few minutes later the red spots build, proof of your claim over him. The beautiful hickeys you left behind encouraged you to go further, the hand on his waist now slipped to his thighs. You rubbed his tip a little longer, until your fingers were coated with his precum entirely, then you moved on to his entrance again.

Soft and sweet moan filled the room, all muffled through a thin fabric. Your fingertips tapped his entrance again, the white fluid now stuck to his rim too. He gasped, watching you play with his body as you pleased. Then you said, “you are doing so well for me, my love,” while staring at him with loving eyes. Dazai didn’t know what to do in that situation, so he averted his gaze. You smirked at the sudden shyness from the male, before sticked a finger inside him. “Mhmm! Nghh.” He wines, eyes widening as he let out some more lewd noises. In the meantime you worked him open, a second finger followed soon. “So good for me, my pretty boy.” At the sound of that compliment, he dick twitched inside his panties. Why were your words so addicting? They were so sweet, it made him feel weird and warm. As if he was a small, weak and precious thing that deserved any of this. Though one question lingered in the back of his mind, was he truly deserving of this?

His tears finally spilled, hands quivering while pleasure coursed through him. Suddenly you raised his leg and brought it over your shoulder, grinning the entire time as you did that. The black laced thigh highs he wore were beyond attractive, enough to make you feel butterflies. “Y/n.. nHhh, mh- please..” he managed to breath out through gritted teeth. You just kept smiling while you rubbed your fingers against his soft and warm insides, admiring how beautiful he looked right now. “Ahh! Oh-ohhh..it feels good.” The brunette groaned and stopped biting the dress, but his hands were still holding it up. Instead of punishing him, you just let it be, you loved hearing him talk anyway.

Wet and lewd squelching sounds left whenever you trusted your fingers inside him, followed by a fierce jerk from the male. He’d arch his back and whine about wanting more. “So cute, I love you my dear.” You chuckled, before you took your fingers out. Sticky strings were connecting the glove to his insides. “Really adorable..” this time you muttered under your breath, staring at his vulnerable state with focused eyes. His lips shook, eyes half lidded, brows furrowed while a deep crimson blush spread across his features. Not to mention how perverted this position was. It exposed all of his shameful parts, as well as his most sensitive spots.

The way his thrust his hips indicated how he wanted more, a disappointed whine left him, a plead for more of this bliss he was feeling. His entrance clenched shut immediately, and the sticky liquid dripped down his tender skin. “You look so beautiful right now.” You praised him, and it made his dick twitch. Then you lined your own one up with his hole after finishing preparing everything, and pressed the tip against him. “Tell me if it hurts, alright?” Even though you whispered that into his ear, he couldn’t register most of your words. His eyes were glued to your length, anticipation filling him as he thought about taking you. Lips pressed shut and gaze eagerly waiting for you to fill him up. You also noticed how his rim kept loosening and clenching, as if his body was begging for you.

With a swift motion, you started putting it in. Only the tip alone was enough to make him into a mess, eyes rolling back as a storm of moans escaped his throat. “Ahh!! Ngh hmMM! Oh- y/N~moreee.. hahh, ple-please..!!” Dazai spout, spitting one nonsense after another. His tongue rolled out while you carefully bottomed out inside him. He tried his best to resist the urge to cum right there right now, especially after feeling it hit against his innermost parts. There was no helping it, it was just so deep inside him! You hugged him again, causing his leg to be raised to his chest. A dumbfounded look was on the boy’s face, and so you explained. “Lay back and enjoy this, alright?”

And you bet he did. When you started moving, all he could think about was you. He couldn’t move an inch while your member continued going in and out of him, so gently and slow, but hard enough to make him see stars. Each time you hit it against his sweet spot he’d cry out, panting and whimpering in delight. “Ah.. ah, uhhh, ahh, y/n- master..!” even now he is still calling you that, but you didn’t mind. After all, he was your good boy, your one and only love, your adorable pet. You kissed his lips, all while pounding inside him with a steady rhythm. Why was this so stimulating? Was what dazai thought. You weren’t being really fast or excessively rough, so why did it feel so damn good?

His heart felt like exploding whenever you calling him by some cute pet names, or even his own name. Sensations strong enough to wipe any thoughts off his mind kept gushing inside him, coursing through his veins and taking him to paradise. When you broke the kiss, he didn’t even notice how he chased after your lips. Still sobbing and crying while begging you for more, wanting to feel more of your touch, more of your voice, more of you. It was warm, it felt really hot inside him. There was no way to describe this other than lust, it must be because you are so skilled..! That’s why whenever you call him cute names he feels himself edging closer to the edge, that’s why your touch always ignites a fire within him, that’s why he always feels so happy when with you.

“Ahh.. I love you, y/nn..” he called out to you again, smiling sweetly while being held in your arms. “I really do..”

REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED

[k1ngpin42]

𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐸𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓈𝒽𝑒’𝓈 𝑔𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝒸𝓊𝓁𝒶𝓇𝓁𝓎 𝒻𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒶 𝑔𝒶𝓂𝑒.

No outbreak

(Mini fic- a lot shorter than my usuals, longer one coming next, see announcement for more info)

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It had been a long day for Ellie at work. She worked in administration in a hospital who made her do just about everything for just about nothing. This is what she got for trying to make a difference she guessed. One file at a time. Ellie wasn’t the kind to be silent about it either. “How was work?” “fine.” No. If it sucked, you’d hear about it.

The key clicked and the front door opened. It was around 10pm. You had just been chilling on the couch, watching one of those shows with way too many episodes to be healthy and letting time tick by. A chorus of irritated huffs and sighs escaped your girlfriends lips before you could even greet her.

“Ellie! You’re home, hey baby.” You say excitedly. She sighs.

“Hey babe.” She groans, giving you a quick and resilient hug. You let out a sigh. You were craving her. Bad. But when she was in one of these moods the last thing she wanted to do was use any more energy on talking or…well especially what you had been thinking about all these hours that you were alone here. 

“I can heat you up some leftovers if you’re hungry?”

“No. Thanks though, I’m just gonna take a shower and then play some games before bed.”

“Okay. Oh um, want…me to join you?” You question, and she laughs lightly, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

“I won’t be long.” 

It was easier to pretend you had been joking, which Ellie at least thought you were, even if every part of you ached to have your body soften under the heat of the shower while she eats you out and the condensation makes you feel faint and- whatever. It was a joke, you repeated to yourself. 

You scooped yourself a small bowl of ice cream and had been picking at it with a teaspoon for a while, starring back at the screen. After around 15 minutes, Ellie headed up to your bedroom.

“I’ll wear headphones so the game won’t disturb you.” Ellie announces. You nod.

“Oh- how…was your day?” Ellie asked, feeling a little bad when she realised she had barely spoken to you. You gave her a comfortingly smile.

“It was fine. Go, play your game.”

“Okay baby, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

But the more time passed the more frustrated you felt that you couldn’t get off. Before she got there you had tried touching yourself, even using a toy, but each time you got close the sensation fucked off again and you were left feeling how you felt now. Annoyed and lonely.

So you decided to go up there to your room. You always left Ellie by herself when she gamed, it was like an unspoken rule, you had your movies and she had her games and afterwards you’d cuddle and all would be right in the world. You weren’t even sure how she’d react to you trying to distract her, but any attention was better than nothing.

You knocked on the door.

“UGH FUCK. Died again.” You heard Ellie groan through the door. You can’t help but laugh at this, and you open the door, laying back on your bed.

For a while you just watch her. Watch her get more and more frustrated. You walk over, kneeling in front of her and putting a hand on her thigh. She sighs.

“-ugh I-  I need to win just, I’ll just be a second.” You shrug, walking back to your bed with a teasing smile as you remove your pyjama pants, putting your hand in your already drenched panties.

“You look so good over there.” You say, and Ellie still has her headphones in, not really hearing you. That is until you start circling your clit faster, letting out an almost pornographic moan, your eyes rolling back where they were previously on your otherwise engaged girlfriend.

Ellie’s eyes widen and you hear a loud thud from her headphones being dropped.

“Jesus…look at you making up a fuckin mess for me playing video games. Did I not give my girl enough attention?” She coo’d. You don’t say anything, still wanting to keep what little power you had over her. You keep going, a little slower now that her gaze was right on you.

“Couldn’t fucking wait 20 minutes could you, pretty girl? You just had to fucking touch yourself.” You let out a gasp of pleasure. 

“You’re not cumming until I finish my game. Come here.” She orders, grabbing your hand and pulling you over to her gaming chair. 

“Kneel.” You do as she says, your cheeks heating up at her words. 

“Fucking suck on it.” She commands in a way she knows you love. It had taken Ellie a long time to become comfortable with talking to you like this. It took about a hundred “are you sure’s?” And “I’m sorry I didn’t mean that’s” in the past to get where you two were now, but now she’s fucking obsessed with the way she can treat you like nothing when you know you’re everything to her. The way she can call you her ‘fucking slut’ and then call you “babe” and the “love of her life” after.

You obeyed her without protest, unzipping her jeans and pulling them down to her waist. Then, you start sucking on her clit, moving your tongue in circular motions as well. She lets our a few deep breaths and short sighs at this as she powers her game back up.

“I come home from work and my girls all worked up? Wet for me and fingering herself in our fucking bed? You’re such a good fucking slut for- fuck….me.” She added. You hum into her clit, feeling, hearing and tasting her get increasingly more wet at your actions. 

“YES! I almost got I-it…” Ellie moaned as she achieved something in her game. You go faster, adding fingers through her folds as your tongue works at her clit.

“Ah…f- not so fast baby…oh fuck.” You don’t listen, though. Perhaps your first mistake of the night. Then Ellie reaches her arms up in celebration.

“Fuck, finally.” She says, but her victory is soon forgotten when your orgasm swirls through her.

“F…fuck, fuck…” Ellie practically whimpered, putting her remote down and picking you up, putting you’re harshly on the bed. 

“You did good babe. Now stay fucking still, I wanna see what my absence did to you.” She exclaims, putting her fingers into you.

“Fuck, they’re practically drowning in this pussy. You ovulating or something?” You gasp out at the feeling of her long, skinny, perfect fucking fingers.

“I don’t know.” You admit. She nods.

“Course you don’t. You get this horny for me no matter what, don’t you?”

“Mhm.” You say as her two middle fingers make their way up to your clit. The pressure is so fucking perfect that you’re close already. God damn those fucking lesbian hands. Your favourite god damn necklace too.

She increases her pace and your eyes roll back. She smirks cockily. 

“Close already? I just started.” You sigh, not having the words to retaliate. She keeps going and a chorus of whimpers and whines escape your lips. You grab onto her arm, sinking your nails into the tattood skin as you cum hard on her fingers. She kisses your neck lightly. 

“So beautiful.” She says in your ear. 

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

you once said that the ZK do not allow the canonical Zuko to show real, sometimes ugly signs of trauma. can you write more about this? because that's what I always felt when I came across their terrible takes, but I couldn't express it.

Gladly! But first, I need to mention the sign of trauma that Zuko usually lacks - and that, for some reason, the fandom insists defines his character:

Fear

Don't get wrong, I'm not saying Zuko never experienced fear. We all saw that poor boy on his knees, crying, begging his father not to hurt him.

But in "Zuko Alone" we also see 10-year-old Zuko get bitter that only his younger sister was expected to show off her firebending skills, and deciding that he would go against his father and demonstrate his own skills to the Fire Lord - that despite the fact that he knew Azula was better at it than he was. Even when it goes wrong, he is upset, but doesn't look afraid of the consequences.

That same episode shows Azula mocking him for playing with knives despite not even being good at it, and even though the fandom insists she was his worst fear ever since he was a child, Zuko responds with a "Put an apple on your head and we'll see how good I am." That little guy has exactly zero chill.

Let's not forget why he was banished either: Despite being considered too young to be in that war meeting, Zuko demanded to be there, eventually got his way, and despite having been told not to say anything, the second he hears a general suggest using their own men as "fresh meat" to lure the enemy, Zuko speaks out against it. And at the start of the Agni Kai, he looked 100% ready to fight a grown ass man with battle experience - until he saw it was his father/Fire Lord.

Let's not forget his Agni Kai with Zhao, which was his idea and that he actually won - and before that, he openly calls Ozai a fool, to which Zhao points out that banishment clearly not teach Zuko to watch his mouth. Or the time he openly challenged Azula in Ba Sing Se and they only didn't fight then and there because Azula knew she'd have the advantage by using the Dai Li. Hell, at the start of that very season, after she tried to lure him to a trap, Zuko's first reaction is to charge at her, fire-daggers in hand. That boy is the definition of "Fuck around and find out."

He has also done things like choosing to save his uncle from earthbenders instead of chasing Aang, crossing a blockade and going into actual Fire Nation territory even though he legally is no longer allowed to do that, and helped rescue Aang from Zhao as the Blue Spirit. It shows us that Zuko doesn't have an issue with temporarely deviating from his mission because of something HE deems important even though his father doesn't, openly disregarding Ozai's orders, and even basically saying "My father will have the Avatar as a prisoner only if I'm the one to capture him"

And, of course, on the day of the eclipse, Zuko grabs his swords and directly threatens Ozai, telling that bastard to sit the fuck down, shut up, and listen to his list of reasons why he sucks as a parent, ruler and person.

Zuko is brave. Unbelievably so. He is fierce, proud, and impulsive to the point of getting himself in situations that he should have known would not go his way (like fighting a waterbender in the snow, in the full moon) because he is very much a "act first, think later" kind of guy. So the fandom's insistence that he is constantly paralyzed by fear is a gross over-simplification of how his trauma affects him.

We only see him genuinely afraid of Ozai twice. During the Agni Kai itself, and then again when he WANTS to speak out against his father's plan to burn the Earth Kingdom to the ground, but can't bring himself to because he remembers what happened last time he spoke out against that kind of horrible thing during a war meeting, at that very room. It took something THAT triggering to make him cower before a challenge.

However, fear wasn't the only reason why didn't speak out during that moment, and that takes us to the first "ugly" sign of trauma that the fandom as a whole likes to pretend Zuko wasn't repeatedly shown to experience:

"My father is right about me, actually"

Zuko doesn't think Ozai was wrong to disfigure and banish him. How could he? Nobody in that entire room stood up to at least try to support him, not even his uncle - who also once said "Why would your father have banished you if he didn't care about you?" because, surprise surprise, nobody in that family knows how to help someone through trauma because they're all dealing with their own shit. Even his crew, who WAS sympathetic to him after finding out how he got that scar, were still 100% willing to not only support Ozai, but risk their lives for him.

Zuko isn't just trying to heal from abuse, he is trying to heal from victim-blaming, and to go against YEARS of indoctrination that say the Fire Lord can do no wrong. That's part of why it was so difficult for Iroh and others to help him: Zuko didn't believe that he needed or deserved help.

And that is also one of his three major unhealthy coping mechanisms. Claiming that HE needs to prove himself to Ozai, that HE needs to make up for HIS mistakes, not the other way around.

It might seem strange that this could be a way to cope, but look at it this way: If it WAS his fault instead of Ozai's, then that means his dad is not an unfair, abusive piece of shit that is unbelievably cruel and impossible to please. Zuko just needs to accomplish this mission of capturing the Avatar and everything will be fine, they'll be a normal family again, and he won't have to be afraid of someone he thought he could trust.

It was like Iroh said: Things are never going to be the same ever agin, but the Avatar gives Zuko HOPE. And that hope that his abuser will one day have a change of heart and be a loving father to him again is both what allows Zuko not to give into despair - and what keeps him trapped in that awful situation.

Misplaced Anger

Another "unpleasant" sign of trauma that Zuko has is how he clearly has an anger problem. Sure, he's a moody teenager with a short fuse, but we see over and over again that he tends to blow things way out of proportion, and that when faced a fact or opinion he doesn't like, he is quick to lash out at someone with VERY cruel words (see him calling Iroh a lazy, shallow, jealous old man in "Avatar State", or calling him crazy and saying if he wasn't in prison, he'd be sleeping in a gutter in "The Headband").

Through the entire show, many people faced Zuko's wrath - Iroh, Aang and friends, his crew, Azula, innocent people of the Earth Kingdom, Mai, Ty Lee, that one rando that talked to Mai, and even Zuko himself.

The one person that usually escapes said wrath is, ironically, Ozai. In "Zuko Alone" he refuses to believe his father would ever be capable of harming him, in "Avatar State" he snaps at Iroh for doubting that Ozai really changed his mind about the whole banishment thing.

He is mad at Aang for being too difficult to capture, and at Zhao for stealing his one chance to come home. He never stops to question if it's fair that his father had him chase someone that was presumed dead, aka an impossible task, as the condition to bring him home. He also never addresses how he feels about the reason WHY said banishment happened until the Day Of Black Sun.

He is mad at Azula for lying to him and trying to take him home as a prisoner. He never gets mad at his father for not only wanting to lock him away forever because ZHAO screwed up at the North Pole, nor how messed up it was that he put Azula in charge of said mission.

For fuck's sake, in the day of the eclipse, we find out that Zuko legit believed his mother was DEAD - and the entire circumstance was shady as hell and put Ozai in a very bad light. Yet Zuko still wanted his love, still wanted to be a "worthy" son.

He HAS to direct his anger at other people, otherwise he'll realize that no, his father, the adult that was meant to care for him, is a complete monster.

Everytime Zuko lashes out at other people before confronting Ozai, he's basically acting like someone who is drowning and, in a panic, is trying to pull the nearest person under so he can try to breathe. It is one of the most accurate and honest representations of trauma and abuse, and it makes me SO mad when people erase it in their fics because "poor, innocent, helpless turtleduck that can do no wrong" makes Zuko look like less of a dick - and also completely strips him of his agency.

And that isn't even the thing that fans ignore the most. That "honor" goes to the simple fact that Zuko, as expected of a child raised to believe the Fire Lord can do no wrong, decided that Azula had the right idea and that the best way to avoid being a victim again was...

Copying His Abuser

Zuko has REPEATEDLY let his "inner Ozai" out through the show.

He is all manipulative by not letting the pirates know he was chasing the Avatar who was worth A LOT more than the scrowl they'd get as a reward for helping him, and by using Katara's necklace as a way to try and get her to say where Aang was.

He repeatedly steals stuff from innocent people (including some who helped him, like Song) because, in his own words "These people should just be giving stuff to us" - aka he's very much an entitled prince.

He betrays his uncle by joining Azula in Ba Sing Se, leading to Iroh being thrown in prison. He also doesn't give a shit when Katara says "I thought you had changed!" and he sends a freaking assassin after the Gaang. Even him refusing to tell Azula that there was a chance Aang could still be alive works both as a "Zuko doesn't trust Azula to not use that against him, and for good reason" and "Zuko did not even stop to think that, since Azula was the one who killed Aang, him coming back also puts HER in danger, because he's too focused on his own problems to notice anybody else's."

More importantly, he rejected a chance of a ceasefire with the Gaang three times (The Blue Spirit, The Chase, Crossroads of Destiny), much like Ozai refused his shot at ending the war in the finale before his battle with Aang, and not only did he challenge Zhao to an Agni Kai and seriously consider burning him, he also threatened one of his crewmen by saying he'd "teach him respect" - which we found out later that episode was what Ozai right before disfiguring poor Zuko.

For fuck's sake, Ozai was literally designed to look like an older Zuko. One without a scar, one that was never banished, one that never had to see first-hand all the death and suffering war brings and reflect on the role he plays in it.

Finally, we have the war meetings in "Nightmares And Daydreams", in which Zuko doesn't speak out against his father's completely inhumane plans to deal with the Earth Kingdom. When talking about it with Mai, he says "I was the perfect prince, the son my father wanted. But I wasn't me."

That is the turning point for Zuko for a reason. It's him finally being forced to acknowledge that, to become Ozai's ideal son, to earn his (conditional) love, to not be his victim he has to be just as bad as he is, just as cruel, just as unfair - and we see in Azula's breakdown how Zuko likely would have ended up if he accepted that path.

But he didn't, and that was not easy because even though it was the morally correct choice, it'd require him to sacrifice everything - his title as a prince, his right to be in the Fire Nation, his relationship with Mai, his (extremelly complicated, sometimes good, often awful) bond with Azula, the "easy" way to get literally anything he wanted at everyone else's expense, and, of course, accept that his father was never going to love him, was never going to change, and was never going to feel sorry for abusing him.

Erasing such a central conflict of his character for the sake of denying he ever did anything wrong is, ironically, removing one of Zuko's most noble character traits: his inability to just live with himself after doing something horrible. There's a reason he is in deep conflict even after getting everything he wanted after the fall of Ba Sing Se - he knows he doesn't deserve it after what he's done.

If you ignore his mistakes and the horrible consequences it had for other people, you also ignore Zuko's growth. This puts him more in the position of a good guy being held hostage by the evil villain, not of a troubled child that redeems himself as he matures.

No flaws, no mistakes, no growth, no arc.

Trauma Doesn't Just Go Away

This one is, by far, the bad trope regarding Zuko's trauma that Zutarians are the most guilt of: assuming that if he just gets enough comforting hugs (mainly from Katara), all of his inner turmoil will suddenly be healed. No more sadness, no more fear, no more of the ugly traits they never acknowledge in the first place. Just a happy, fully recovered Zuko.

But that's just not how these things work. Having the support of a loved one helps victims feel better, but it won't magically make everything okay. Trauma is a really difficult thing to handle. There's good days, bad days, relapses, bad habits that are difficult to move past from. And not only are there cases in which people take YEARS to recover, there are also cases in which they never fully heal, and instead just learn to live with that burden that is still very much present.

I understand the desire to show in fics and headcanons that Zuko will eventually be fully healed and happy, but the way Zutarians make Katara act as not just his girlfriend, but as basically his therapist that needs to find miracle solutions for every single one of his problems, comfort him whenever any minor inconvenience happens until he's gotten enough hugs to be magically okay doesn't just reveal how hypocritical they are, since they insist Kataang is about Katara being Aang's girlfriend/mom/baby-sitter, but also that they legit do not understand a damn thing about trauma and how it works.

Which takes me to:

How Mai Actually Did Right By Zuko

Poor, poor Mai. She gets blamed for "bring out the worst in Zuko", for not being "supportive", for being too cold and unemotional, for not "seeing the real him" - yet she's one of the characters that CONSISTENLY help put Zuko back on his track.

She offers him emotional support and lots of signs of affection over and over again - telling him not worry when they're arriving at the Fire Nation, pointing out she doesn't hate him when she says she's beautiful when she hates the world, explicitly saying she cares about him in The Beach, being incredibly sweet and loving to him during all of Nightmares and Daydreams, and then again in the finale by helping him get dressed up and acting all cute as they get back together.

But she also holds him accountable when he screws up. She doesn't let him use his difficult life as an excuse to be a jerk and calls him out when he's being unreasonable, or when she feels mistreated/like he's making a mistake (see The Beach and Boiling Rock Part 2).

But since the fandom loves to completely erase Zuko's mistakes AND to not let go of a stupid ship war, this completely changes the context, making Mai out to be this awful, bitchy girlfriend, when in reality, she did a great job handling Zuko - sometimes even better than the fan favorite and mentor figure Zuko had through most of his arc.

Uncle Iroh Fucked Up

Before all of you try to kill me, let me make one thing clear here: I love Uncle Iroh. He is one of the most awesome characters in the show, and I fully believe he was trying his best to help Zuko.

But he is still a human being that makes mistakes, and he was raised in the same dysfunctional family Zuko was, meaning he often had NO IDEA how to handle his deeply traumatized teenage nephew/son.

Him spending all of book 1 trying to help Zuko capture Aang so he could go back to living with the guy that disfigured him is already bad enough, but we also have the episode "Avatar State" in which Iroh asks "Why would your father banish you if he didn't care about you?"

Obviously he only did these things because he didn't want Zuko give into despair and depression - but he is still, at best, ignoring the issue, and at worst actively making excuses for Ozai's abuse of his own son. This backfires on him spectacularly, as Zuko sides with Azula over him both in the first and last episode of the season specifically because he believes that appeasing Ozai is the right thing to do, as he was only banished "for his own good."

But THE biggest mistake Iroh made when it came to helping Zuko was his refusal to accept that no, Zuko was never going to be happy by living a quiet, simple life in Ba Sing Se - even after Zuko explicitly said as much to his face.

Obviously, to some extent, Iroh HAS to make Zuko accept that he won't ever be able to come back home after Ozai literally ordered Azula to capture him, but he could have tried to find some kind of middle ground with Zuko, since being a waiter clearly wasn't making him happy.

"Oh, but what about how Zuko started acting after his metamorphosis? He was so happy about working on the tea-shop with his uncle, and that was supposed to reveal his true self!"

Yes, it was supposed to do that. But we saw how Zuko acted after actually dealing with his trauma and redeeming himself. He was obviously in a much healthier place, both mentally and spiritually, but he was still moody, still sarcastic, still as proud as ever, and even Iroh recognized that he was meant to be Fire Lord.

Zuko's arc has a lot to do with identity, with how he sees himself. At that point, the only thing he still had in life was his uncle - so he was acting like him, because there seemed to be no other role model, no other path. Seeing that weird, cheery, relaxed, always-seeing-the-good-side-of-things version of Zuko was honestly unnerving.

And Iroh thought that Zuko basically giving himself the Lake Laogai treatment was okay because he following in his footsteps, doing what helped IROH heal and change - he didn't realize it was never gonna be able to do the same for Zuko.

The very second Azula shows up, even when she's being hostile, Zuko drops the facade, because she's a reminder of both his old life and what he thought his future would be. And when she offers him "redemption" Iroh tried to advice Zuko against joining her by saying "The redemption she offers is not for you" (as in not for someone who is doing better and doesn't need to return to the Fire Nation) and "It's time for you to choose. It's time for you to choose good." How is it a choice if Iroh is explicitly saying which option Zuko cannot pick, essentially making the decision for him?

Iroh didn't just get the way to help Zuko wrong - he didn't realize his nephew didn't believe he needed help. They were not on the same page at all, and that contribuited to Zuko betraying him.

Though, thankfully, it ended up being for the best, as Zuko found his own way to redemption by himself.

Conclusion

This fandom as a whole tends to not understand Zuko at all and just eat up a bunch of fanon while pretending to be so intellectual, which I very much resent it for.

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 21

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

I had such a shitty day but I’m lowkey in love with this part of the series so I decided to post. Also I did some editing so the sewers are now in chapter 24 instead of 23. Let the fun begin!

Content Warnings - descriptions of wounds

Finnick and you try to make the best of your last few days together before he has to leave for deployment. You continue to skip your schedule, with the news of Finnick’s impending absence leaving you mentally unstable enough for Dr. Aurelius to give you a pass.

You follow him around like a lost puppy, constantly grasping at his fingers as a reminder that he’s still here. That’s the only touch you will allow, however. Your progress has regressed a bit and the nightmares have returned. You can’t even sleep in the same bed as Finnick, worried that you might hurt him.

The only night this changes is the night before he’s shipped out to the capital.

“You can’t go,” you whine as you grasp onto him, worried he might disappear at any moment.

“We’ve been over this,” he sighs, rolling over in the bed to face you.

“I know but it sucks and I hate it,” you explain.

“Can I hold you tonight?” he asks, suddenly turning the mood even more sad than it already was.

You sigh as you lean in closer to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you.

“Thank you for loving me,” you tell him, moving your head slightly to look back at him.

“Thank you for letting me.”

Finnick doesn’t let you go to the hangar to see him off as he doesn’t want to say goodbye. You understand where he’s coming from but watching him get out of bed at 6am and leave your cabin nearly broke you.

Dr. Aurelius decided you would stay in the hospital again while Finnick was away. He didn’t think that you living alone was healthy and you agreed. As much as you hated the hospital at least you had Johanna there. She had a bad episode when she encountered water during her training and had to be sent back to the hospital.

You spend your days sitting with Johanna, neither of you having much to say. Mags comes to see you during her reflection time but again you sit in silence. Nobody was worth talking to as long as he was gone.

You stopped seeing Dr. Aurelius after he tried to explain that your dependency on Finnick was not healthy. He may be right but you don’t care. You need Finnick.

“Miss Y/L/N,” President Coin states as she steps into your room. You were not expecting her as a visitor. It had been only a few days since Finnick left. “You and Mr. Mellark have been called upon for a noble mission.”

You look at her confused. What were you and Peeta going to do? Coin sets down a pile of clothes on the edge of your bed.

“Suit up soldier,” she states. Maybe you would be seeing Finnick sooner than you thought.

You and Peeta are loaded into a hovercraft to an unknown location. Well, the people flying the hovercraft know where you are going, but you and Peeta haven’t been told anything.

It’s a long few hours before you finally land in District 2.

“My name is Peeta Melark,” Peeta whispers to himself as he exits the hovercraft.

You struggle to stand up, a headache having accumulated during the flight. A soldier goes to help you but you swat his hand away, not wanting to be touched.

“What are we doing here?” Peeta mumbles as you fight to stay standing, the pulsing headache not helping.

“In the vehicles,” a soldier orders, motioning for you and Peeta to get into two separate armored trucks. Why are they separating you two?

The ride in the truck is long. You fade in and out of a fitful sleep, unable to rid yourself of a repeating nightmare you’ve had since leaving the capital.

In it, Wiress is sitting on the beach in the arena, staring out into the water with her dead eyes and slit throat, repeatedly muttering “tick tock” to herself. It always happens the same way. Her muttering gets louder until she suddenly goes silent and turns to face you.

You watch in horror as her ashy skin begins to flake off, revealing nothing but bones underneath. Black blood flows from her throat.

“Tick tock,” she screams at you.

“You can’t outrun the clock!”

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[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

saw some western aus and wanted to throw my proverbial hat in the ring. well. toss it gently. place it down on the edge-

actually no fuck that, slamming down the hat i have Thoughts:

first off, if anything this au should be the silliest looney toons bullshit.

~ of all the revolvers are unloaded. so gunfights are just people saying "bang" at each other and then throwing the nearest thing at their opponent in place of a bullet

~ Wally is the town sheriff, and he's hilariously incompetent. he also has a habit of shoplifting apples from Howdy's saloon / general store fusion. his cowboy hat has a card with an apple on it tucked in the band, but he doesn't wear it, so at nearly all times one of his hands is occupied with holding the hat. also he doesn't wear his badge ever

~ Barnaby is the town deputy, and he's marginally more competent than Wally. however, he doesn't take his job seriously and is usually napping in his chair on the sheriff office porch. sometimes he wears Wally's badge along with his own for funsies

~ also when Howdy catches Wally stealing, he'll call Barnaby over. Barnaby will proceed to arrest and lock up Wally in his own jail until Barnaby feels too bad for leaving him in there and lets him out

~ there is only one horse in town, and its Eddie's so that he can do his delivery runs and get mail from the town over - he has a lil wagon too. Sally has a running gag where she tries to steal the horse, but it completely ignores her and won't budge an inch.

~ on that note, Wally has one of those stick horses. when he needs to chase someone down, he hops on it and Barnaby lifts him by the scruff and runs, gently shaking him up and down to simulate natural horse riding movements. somehow it always works. no one can escape this tactical move

~ the only role i can see for Sally is overly-theatrical outlaw, just as incompetent as Wally. she never succeeds in stealing anything but also never gets caught because, again, Wally is terrible at his job. everyone usually comes outside to watch their wacky "fights" and do nothing about it, including Barnaby. also Julie helps her sometimes

~ Julie i think would be the town banker. she's unusually strict about it and can get kind of scary about technicalities. however the town doesn't really use currency, so they have a point system that they keep careful track of. it would be stickers, but those dont exist. actually fuck that these are puppets, stickers exist and the board is like the gold stars in that one spongebob episode

~ Frank is an entomologist that decided to brave the untamed west to see what new bugs he might discover. what he discovered was dust, scorpions, and an inability to leave the town due to no monies anywhere. he finds entertainment in keeping track of the local ant colonies' wars & affairs, and also complaining at Howdy at the bar

~ everyone complains to Howdy. he has someone at his bar at any given time and he's taken to being incredibly passive aggressive about it. they still have to pay with jokes or favors or whatever they can think of that he'll accept

~ Poppy runs the hotel, where pretty much everyone lives. Julie lives there, Frank lives there, Sally lives there, Wally lives there. Barnaby prefers to sleep in the sheriffs office, as he doesn't want to make the "across the street" commute. Howdy also stays in his saloon/store, and Eddie sleeps in his post office - as canon intended.

~ Home is the mayor. don't ask me if he's a person, an object head, or just a building - i do not know. he's probably still a building. no one can understand what he says

~ oh also Frank is incredibly pressed over the fact that the town's lawfolk suck at their job. he swears he has an aneurysm every time Wally chases Sally down the street on a stick horse, or when blatant crime is happening right in front of a very asleep Barnaby. he is tempted to take over as sheriff, but alas, there are scorpions to be stung by

~ and finally: apple chaps. thats all thanks good day

[itsfairly]

Untangling the Yarn // Nanami Kento x gn!reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Summary: Nanami helps you when your knitting project is not coming along.

Notes: sfw, fluff, gender-neutral! reader, established relationship, pet names (sweetheart), pep talk kinda off deal, not proofread.

A/N: yeah, well, i couldn't get the handle on this tutorial. so i am taking my frustrations out on this. i love knitting but i hate not getting it on the first try, sucks to suck. anyways, i know this is a different tone from how we are all acting with Nanami after this week's episodes, so sorry. But hey, we get fluff, that's always good since...you know...sorry.

"I don't know what I am doing." You groan, putting down the needles after what seemed like a mess in your hands.

You know how to knit. Well, know enough stitches to get by when doing granny squares and scarfs. That alone lets you do plenty of things but you want to push yourself and do something new. Somehow you landed on a shawl, something light to cover you on breezy days, something simple—not complicated. Spoiler, it was complicated.

You got circular needles like the ones in the tutorial you watched and decided to start working on your project as soon as you got home. Which leads us to this moment. You sitting on the couch after god knows how many tries of doing the first row alone, each with its own challenge. The thread comes loose and you have to start over. Or you get lost in how fast the lady in the video seemed to go, even if you slowed it down to 0.5. Or when you managed to get to another row, the thread balled together like a lump.

It was frustrating. All this trial and error led to minimal but insignificant changes each time, which didn't feel fair. You were paying attention but it seemed your hands couldn't make what the video showed you. It made you feel ridiculous that you even thought you could do a shawl. It was humiliating.

Ever the most attentive boyfriend, Nanami picked up on your frustration growing as he heard you sigh and repeat the last 10 seconds of the video. When he saw you drop the needles onto your lap and leaned back on the couch with your head thrown back, he knew it was a sign for him to put down the newspaper and intervene.

"You're getting there, you just-"

"If you say 'be patient' I'm going to lose it." You interrupted him with a warning.

Nanami sighed, turning his body to face yours as you two seat on the couch. He takes a look on your face and sees that your frustration is more than just being annoyed at your project not coming along—but also disappointment. Your pout told him that much as you started to detangle the little thread you managed to knit reluctantly.

"I know it's the last thing I should be saying, but it's true. This is different from what you usually do, you have to give yourself some time to grasp it." He says, mustering a gentle tone to avoid making you feel as if he's patronizing you.

You turn your head to look at him, cheek squeezed by the couch as your face betrays you, showing him you were growing insecure about your skills. It made his heart crack just a little when he saw that glint missing from your eye when you first sat down to knit.

"I don't want to just make simple things like boring scarves or useless squares." You admitted softly, your hands fidgeting with your yarn.

Nanami places a hand around you, pulling you close to him for a much-needed break from what was stressing you. It was ironic that the thing you did for fun and helped you unwind was making you feel like this. He took one of your hands and started massaging your palm, soothing the muscles that were starting to feel sore over the needles. It made your brows relax at the feeling.

"Then don't. You are already doing something different."

"Yeah, and it's looking like just tangled yarn. I don't know, it's just..." you sigh, placing your head on your shoulder. "it's not looking like that," you added, pointing at the screen that was displaying a pale pink shawl flawlessly done.

"Sweetheart." He called out, holding your hand into his and squeezing it gently. He could see you were getting in your head and he needed you to get out of there. "You're just starting this, they probably have done this a million times and have messed up before. It doesn't have to look perfect on your first try."

He was right but his words weren't on the nail just yet. You know that the first won't be perfect. But why weren't you able to get it yet? You were struggling with the first steps and it made you feel as if you were the worst knitter in history. You start to wonder how the heck you even managed to knit other stuff before.

Nanami calls your name gently, caressing your arm softly to bring you back to the same place you two were. You look at his eyes, slightly moving your head on your shoulder to look comfortably at him as he speaks.

"How it looks shouldn't matter as long as you're having fun. It doesn't matter if it looks like or better than the tutorial if it makes you feel like this. You should knit because you like knitting."

His motherly tone warms your heart and it makes you smile. Even if your chest is still heavy with disappointment, his words made you remember why you even took knitting as a hobby. It wasn't because you were thinking of it as some revenue or something to show off, it was because it relaxed you. The end products were just extras.

"Besides," he adds as he pulls you closer to him with a squeeze at your arm, "I love those scarves you make, especially the one you gave me at our anniversary."

He wasn't just saying it to make you feel better. The things you made may take time and may be quite simple, but they were made by you. You and you alone added that extra warmth on the scarves and projects you made with those squares that made them extra cozy. He loves it even more knowing you made a scarf for him and him alone.

"You don't care that the things I made are boring?" You ask, your tone already becoming much more content and softer.

He shakes his head. "If they are boring, then why do I love them so much?"

Your heart softens up, smiling lovingly at him as you lift your head off his shoulder and press a kiss on his cheek. It makes him hum, his hand roaming down to the curve of your back as he keeps you close.

"Thank you, honey." You say as you return to your previous position with your back against the couch. This time, rather than slouching, you are sitting much straighter with a more confident attitude.

"Anything for my favorite knitter." He hums, quickly returning the kiss by pressing his lips on your temple.

You chuckled, feeling the motivation you needed back into your being. You take a big breath before taking back the needles and repeating the first step for the nth time. It's still frustrating that it takes you quite a few times to get a single step right. But the way Nanami rubs the small of your back even as he continues to read his newspaper is enough to keep you calm and try again.

[froggibus]

Stay A While - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff w a shot of angst

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: you’ve always been one to suffer in silence, shutting yourself in your apartment for the duration of your episodes. but Jason Todd doesn’t want to sit idly by and watch you suffer alone, even if it annoys you

CW: depressed! reader, mentions of depressive episodes, negative thoughts/self talk, Jason is overbearing, mentions of insomnia, reader struggles to eat, some violence (out on patrol), the rest of the family kinda sucks in this lmao

this is for the people who followed me expecting Batfam/DC content and didn’t unfollow when I didn’t post any for months 😭 I love y’all. also idk the idea of soft! Jason makes me so emotional. also I WOULD LOVE SOME DC OR BATFAM REQUESTS!!! if there’s anything you want me to write I will gladly do it 🫶🏼 (also let’s ignore the fact that this is like my 3rd angsty post in the past few days oops)

————

It was common knowledge around Wayne Manor that disappearing into your room (or apartment) for a few days meant something different for everyone. Usually, it wasn’t anything to worry about. 

Sometimes it would be Tim finally sleeping when he’s pushed himself too far. Other times, it was Dick working a case and refusing to leave until he knew what to do. For Bruce, it usually meant he was injured and trying to hide it from everyone. 

Jason was still finding these things out little by little, so when you suddenly disappeared into your apartment, he was worried. 

“Honestly, it’s nothing to worry about,” Tim tried to ease his mind. “Y/n tends to retreat when things get bad.”

“And you guys are okay with that?”

Dick shrugged, adjusting the ice pack he had pressed to his forehead. “We tried the first time it happened. After a while, we realized that alone time is the only thing that really works. If y/n needs help, y/n will reach out.”

And the topic ended there. Or at least, it did for Dick and Tim. Jason couldn’t stop thinking about it though—did they really just let you suffer in your apartment all alone whenever you had an episode? The thought made his skin crawl. 

He’s had a few bad episodes over the course of his life, and while he managed to deal with it alone, he didn’t think that you should have to. 

Maybe that’s what led him to your apartment at four in the morning with a bag of takeout. 

You open the door dressed in your pyjamas despite not having slept a wink. You're almost surprised to see Jason standing there with the paper bag. Didn’t everyone know to let you ride it out on your own? You thought they decided to stop bugging you ages ago. 

Still, you don’t think it was fair to slam the door in his face, and instead welcome him inside. “What are you doing here, Jason?”

“Just thought I’d check on you,” he sets the bag on the counter. “Haven’t seen you in a while and wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You squint at him. Did he really think you were that dumb? You figured he would have asked Dick or Bruce right away if you suddenly fell off the face of the earth, and they would have told him about your situation. Jason and you had never been particularly close, either, so why was he here?

He raises his hands in defeat. “I just want to make sure you’re taken care of somewhat. Alright? I’ll leave you alone after that.”

“I mean, I’m fine aren’t I?”

Your words come out harsher than you’d like, but you can’t help but be annoyed at the sudden intrusion. Not to mention the implication that you can’t take care of yourself. 

“You clearly haven’t slept in a while so we both know that’s some bullshit.”

You sigh. He’s right, after all. You can’t remember the last time you slept, let alone for more than a few hours. Though used to staying up late on missions and patrols, you never went this long. 

“I just have a lot on my mind, I guess,” you admit. “But I can take care of myself, Jason. So while I appreciate the concern, you can leave.”

He doesn’t protest, instead grumbling to himself while you show him to the door and effectively kick him out of your apartment. He stands outside the door for a while, wondering if he should try harder. 

He decides against it, and thinks he’ll just have to check on you again tomorrow. 

—

You almost feel guilty unpacking the takeout he got you, but then again, there weren’t many days lately where guilt and stress didn’t weigh heavily on you. As soon as you felt that familiar flood of negative thoughts and emotions, you knew it was time to withdraw. Still, through all of your episodes, you were yet to experience one quite this bad. 

It’s nice that Jason checked on me, you think to yourself. At least someone thought of you. Sure, you’d told the others countless times over the years that solitude while you sort through your thoughts was imperative, and it was true. Regardless, it was nice to have someone check on you, even if it was annoying. 

You dish yourself a plate of Chinese food and sit down on your couch, looking out at Gotham city through the window. It’s a dim, rainy night and the weather does nothing to help your mood. You find yourself picking at your food, having only a few bites before packing it up and leaving it in the fridge. 

You didn’t eat much, but it’s a start. 

—

Jason tries to push back the thoughts of you on patrol the next night, but he can’t. He just thinks of the bags that line your under eyes and the way your voice cracked when you said you were fine. 

It’s only when he damn near loses an eye to a stray bullet that he realizes he can’t ignore it anymore. He ducks around a corner, ready to head back to his bike. 

“Hood, where are you going?” Nightwing calls after him. 

“I gotta go check on something!”

Red Robin scoffs, “y/n is a big kid, Todd. Just leave it alone.” 

He shakes his head at the younger boy. He wants to argue with him but for once in his life, Jason Todd bites his tongue and turns the other cheek. 

When you open the door, you’re unsurprised to see Jason Todd standing there in his Red Hood suit. “Jason?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, walking past you straight into your apartment. “I’m back.”

“I—welcome back?” You close the door behind him, spinning around on your heel and raising an eyebrow at the man in your living room. 

“Look, I know I said I’d leave when I knew you were taken care of but I don’t—you’re not. Like, seriously, y/n, just talk to me.”

You sigh and take a seat on the couch. “Do you really want to listen?”

“Yes,” he says and sits down next to you, dropping his helmet on the cushion next to him. “If it helps you, I’ll listen til my damn ears bleed.”

His words are almost enough to bring a smile to your face, the muscles twitching almost painfully. You nod slowly, drawing your knees into your chest. 

Jason analyzes your body language, seeing just how vulnerable and small you really are despite your usual front. He knows to tread lightly here. 

“I—,” you tug on your hair slightly, trying to think of how to verbalise it. “Have you ever been so tired, like beyond tired, that you can’t sleep?”

He goes to speak, but thinks the better of it. You don’t need to hear about his own problems right now, but the truth is he has. He’s been where you are before—guilt and misery weighing so heavily on him that he can’t breathe. 

“I don’t even know what triggered it. I was fine one day and then all of a sudden….” You gesture to your current state in hopes he gets the idea. “I really hate feeling like this,” tears prick at your eyes and your nose stings with every word, “but I’ve never really found a way to make it stop and—and—“

Jason is almost as surprised as you are when he sets a gloved hand on your shoulder. “Y/n,” his voice is soft, “it’s okay to feel this way.”

His touch helps ground you and you manage to take a deep, shaking breath. “I don’t want you to see me like this, Jason,” you say quietly, voice so soft he almost doesn’t hear.

“There’s no shame in the way you’re feeling.”

“I know that I just—can you just go? Please?”

He opens his mouth to speak, to argue with you, but thinks the better of it. You look so soft and sad and vulnerable. He doesn’t want to push his luck and push you further away from him. 

He grabs his helmet and stands up. “Have a good night, y/n. I hope you manage to get some rest tonight.”

You watch Jason Todd walk out of your apartment door for the second night in a row. 

—

Jason is surprised when his phone screen lights up with your picture while he’s on patrol. The last person he’d expect to call him at two in the morning was you, especially considering he hadn’t heard from you in a few days. 

He tried to come and visit you the next night, but he couldn’t bring himself to knock at your door. Y/n’s tough, he thought to himself. You don’t need his help. 

He can’t pick up the phone in the middle of a fight, though, and has to wait until the henchmen are in a pile on the ground. He doesn’t even retort to Damian’s comment on how long it took him to take them down—his mind too focused on you and what could possibly be wrong. 

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, pressing redial on your number. Please be okay, he thinks. 

You answer on the third ring, your voice sounding soft and defeated. “Jason?”

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

“I-I just…” you sigh into the phone and Jason’s heart clenches at the sound. “I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

Jason considers this for only a second. “Alright, I’ll be there in 10.”

He hangs up the call and shoves his phone back into his pocket, making the walk back to his bike. 

“Todd?” Robin says in his earpiece. 

“Pipe down, brat. I have more important things to deal with tonight.”

“More important than protecting the city?” Nightwing says over the comms. 

You have no idea, he wants to say. But he doesn’t, opting to turn off the ear piece and focus on getting to you as quickly as he can. He said he’d be there in 10 minutes, but he’s at your apartment door in 7. 

You’re waiting at the door when he knocks, a blanket over your shoulders, curled in on yourself. As soon as you open the door, you’re wrapping your arms around him. 

His suit is damp from the rain, soaking into your pyjamas and making you shiver. Still, you don’t let go of him. It’s been a particularly rough day, and you needed some company to combat the thoughts filling your head.  

“Miss me?” He jokes. 

You say nothing, content to hold him as close to you as possible. He rubs your back gently before wrapping his arms around you and half carrying you back into your apartment. 

He closes the door behind him, awkwardly adjusting to hold you up with one arm. Not that it’s much of a struggle for him, considering he’s a lot bigger than you are. 

He’s torn, he doesn’t want to let go until you do, but he wants to talk to you and figure out why you needed him so badly. Lucky for him, he doesn’t have to make that choice because suddenly you’re pulling away from him and tucking your hair behind your ears. 

You look anywhere but him. “Um, thanks for coming…”

“Anytime.” 

You try to think of something to say after that, anything to break the ice and explain yourself and not make this a huge waste of time for him. Before you can speak, though, Jason goes first. 

“You don’t have to explain it to me if you don’t want to,” he says. “I know it’s hard.”

You nod slowly, every movement of your body feels sluggish and heavy. You got a few hours of sleep the other day, but only out of sheer exhaustion. Now, it seems the exhaustion is catching up. 

“I’m just gonna…sit down,” you plop onto the couch cushion and pull your knees into your chest. You pat the cushion next to you, inviting him closer. 

Jason takes off his helmet and jacket, laying them on the kitchen island before sitting next to you. “Have you slept much?”

You shake your head, resting your cheek on the cushion and looking into his eyes. “A few hours the other day but…nothing since.”

“Did you want to try while I’m here?”

His eyes are soft, a jarring contrast from his other features. It’s almost as if he’s pleading with you. 

“Y-yeah, okay,” you slowly rise from the couch, your damp pyjamas clinging to your body. You usher for Jason to follow you to your room. 

You dig through your drawers, looking for a pair of clean pyjamas. You settle on a t-shirt you stole from Dick ages ago and a pair of sweats you used for training. Jason looks away while you change, trying his best to respect your privacy despite the way his face heats up. 

You crawl into your bed, trying to rearrange the messy comforter to cover your body. “Do you…is it okay if you lay with me? It only has to be until I fall asleep.”

Jason knows he’s pushing his limits, his heart racing at the thought of being in bed with you. He shakes the thoughts away—this is completely innocent. He’s just taking care of you. 

“Yeah, I can stay a while.”

Jason lays down next to you, his broad frame taking up more than half of your bed. Your breath catches in your throat at his proximity, and his warmth draws you in. Somehow, for the first time in days, his presence is enough to let you relax. 

Jason lays with you for some time, just staring at the back of your head while you cuddle your pillow. You must have fallen asleep at some point, because your breathing is even and your body is relaxed. 

He smiles, it’s the most calm he’s seen you in days. He knows you’re sleeping now and he can leave, but he doesn’t want to. What if you wake up and he’s gone? He doesn’t want to risk upsetting you. 

You roll over in your sleep, your head landing perfectly under his arm and on his chest. His breath hitches in his throat at the contact. He tries to adjust his body to make it as comfortable as possible for you to lay on him. 

He wraps an arm around your waist, cradling you within his own body. Jason can’t help but think to himself in this moment that he’ll take care of you no matter what, even if you can’t take care of yourself. 

[the-guilty-writer]

Lazy Genius

Request from Anon: Spencer reid x daughter reader who hates school not because anyone bullies her but because she hates doing the work

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Summary: You decide to skip out on a school assignment and your dad, Spencer, isn't happy about it.

A/N: Thank you for the request! Reid x daughter!reader isn't on my official list, but it's something I'm willing to write for 99% of the time. This was a challenge for me to write, as I'm a total school work loving nerd. I could not think of a happy ending for this situation so I left it open for interpretation. All requests and feedback are appreciated.

Test weeks sucked, but not because of the tests. You had no problems with tests. Test weeks sucked because for five days straight all your friends were consumed by school and you weren’t. Sure, you were in AP classes for every subject, but having inherited your father’s genius brain meant that as long as you payed attention in class there was never a need to study. So while everyone else was preparing for the academic apocalypse and your dad was out of town on a case, you were left to binge watch Doctor Who alone and wonder if someone could die of social starvation.

Ding!

Your heart leapt as your phone notified you to a message. Leaning over the table to grab your phone, you prayed it was a message from someone wanting to hang out. Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

Message from Dad:

Hey, Princess. We just got a break in the case so I should be home by tomorrow night. Your Aunt Penelope will be over to check on you later. I love you.

You let out a sigh. Only your father, Spencer Reid, would use proper grammar in a text message. You typed up a quick response and were about to put your phone down when it buzzed again. This time it was an email from a teacher.

Students, if you have received this reminder you have not yet turned in your mid-term paper. Please email me your work by 3:00 PM tomorrow afternoon. Any student who has not turned in their paper by then will receive a zero for the assignment.

Ugh. Not a paper.

For someone whose grandmother was a professor of literature, there was nothing you despised more than English. With most classes you didn’t have to put in any effort- it was all memorization and testing. But English class was just busy work and paper writing. It was dumb and you didn’t want to do it.

You opened your laptop and looked at the grade book. Having a genius IQ made it easy for you to do the calculations in your head; if you got a zero on the paper it would only lower your grade to 84% and if you kept making perfect scores on your quizzes and tests you’d have 92% by the end of the semester.

You closed your laptop and turned the TV back on. It might have been the 17th time you had watched this episode, but anything was better than writing a paper that wouldn’t affect your GPA in the long run.

---

A week went by. Spencer had come home from the case and you knew it had been a hard one for him. As much as your dad tried to leave his work at the office, his job made it impossible for him to not have fears and worries. You knew that the case must have involved kids, because he was being more sentimental than usual- trying to get home before 6 o’clock, trying (and failing) to make recipes from Rossi, double checking that you were still safe in your bed in the mornings before he went to work.

That morning, he hadn’t double checked that you were still in your room, alive and well, which usually meant that the post-case “helicopter parent period” was over. It seemed odd when you got a text from Spencer as soon as class was dismissed for the day.

Message from Dad: Meet me at the BAU now.

You felt all the blood drain from your face.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Your friend asked.

“It’s my dad.” Your chest tightened with anxiety. The only time your dad had you come to Quantico is if he thought you might be in some sort of danger. But if you were in true danger he would have had your Uncle Derek come pick you up at school, right? You turned to your friends. “I- I’ll call you later. I have to go.” You sprinted towards the metro station, making it through the gates just in time to cram yourself onto the crowded car that would bring you to Quantico.

---

The elevator ride to the sixth floor took less than a minute, but it felt like it lasted an eternity. Your hands were shaking by your sides and you bounced on your toes, willing the metal box to lift faster. When the metal doors finally opened, Spencer was waiting for you.

“Dad, what’s going on?” You stepped out of the elevator and rushed towards him. It all happened so fast that you failed to notice that this time was different from the others.

Every other time you had come to the BAU headquarters because of danger the place was usually swarming with agents from different units, the phones ringing so wildly you were unsure how they kept up with all the calls, and the glass doors swinging open and closed at an alarming rate.

But the hall wasn’t busy, the phones weren’t ringing, and the glass doors stayed closed.

“That’s what I wanted to ask you,” Spencer said. His kind eyes were hard and his tone was stern. In his right hand he was holding a piece of paper. He handed it to you. “Would you like to explain this?”

You took the paper from him and looked down at it- it was your midterm report card. You had nearly 100% in every class except for AP English. Your calculations had been correct; you had an 84% in the class- a solid B.

“You’re mad that I got a B as my midterm grade?” you asked your dad.

“I’m not mad that you got a B as your midterm grade." Spencer remained calm, but you could see the silent anger boiling inside him. “Did you see what you got on your paper?”

You looked down at the grades again, this time, reading the fine print.

Midterm Paper: 0%, F. Assignment was not submitted.

“Oh.” Your voice was void of emotion.

“Why didn’t you turn in your paper?” Spencer asked.

You sighed. “If I keep getting hundreds on my tests and quizzes I’ll get a 92% in the class, which is an A so it doesn’t actually matter.”

“What actually matters is that you put in the effort, (Y/N).” Your father’s gaze grew harder, boring into you as if you were under interrogation. Spencer wasn’t like most parents who got loud when they were angry- Spencer got quiet. He got quick. He got intense. “This isn’t a result of a lack of understanding. You didn’t put in the effort. You had an assignment and you didn’t do it on purpose because you knew you could get around it.”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s called being smart.”

“No, it’s called being lazy.”

His words hit you like a bullet. His anger and disappointment you could handle, but never once had your dad made you feel insulted. You knew it came from a place of love and worry, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Your voice began to crack and tears stung your eyes as you spoke. “Dad, I-”

“I don’t want to hear it, (Y/N),” Spencer said. “Give me your phone. Garcia is blocking every number that isn’t an emergency contact until you get your act together.”

There was no point in arguing. You handed your dad your phone. He gave you a long, hard look before walking down the hall to Penelope’s office, not once turning back to look at you. When he came back, Garcia was following him. She gave you an apologetic look before she left through the glass doors, leaving you alone with your dad again.

Spencer threw his coat on and slung his satchel over his shoulder. You knew that was your cue to follow him to the elevator. The two of you stepped into the elevator together. The metal doors closed in front of you.

A beat of silence.

“I’m sorry, dad,” you said. “I’m not like you. I don’t like doing school work.”

Spencer sighed. “Sometimes we have to do things, even if we don’t like doing them.”

It was such a dad thing to say, but not a Spencer Reid dad thing to say. You tried to keep calm as you said quietly, “it’s still not going to affect my GPA.”

“It doesn’t matter, (Y/N)." Spencer blinked, long and slow. “Nobody likes a lazy genius.”

[shelbgrey]

Next to me(Emmett Cullen)

Chapter 20: Testosterone and Truck repairs

Table of contents

Tags: @itsmytimetoodream @f-1-maniac @purplesiren @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads

“that would never happen” Paul said as he stuffed his face with Doritos, it was Saturday and Paul decided to stay in a watch Bones while Emmett was out hunting. Paul still hated the idea, so we just decided to never discuss it.

“good morning” bella said coming into the living. My head shot up confused, she never really spoke in such a bright tone in the mornings “what's that supposed to mean?”

“nothing...good morning” she repeated as Owen came shuffling into the living room, he plopped on to Charlie's favorite arm chair looking like he just woke up.

“mornin' sunshine” Paul joked, Owen looked at the TV and flipped Paul off while he watched his favorite character Angela do her thing on the show.

I rolled my eyes and continued to watch the TV show. Bella quitely sat down on the arm of the couch with me and took a sip of her drink. She cleared her throat and looked at me and Paul, we ignored her as i tried to finish the episode we were watching. “you look nice today... You too paul”

“I always look nice” Paul smirked, I rolled my eyes and hit his chest.

“What do you want?” I sighed, looking down at the sleep clothes I had yet to change out of, it was one of Emmett's black t-shirts and underwear, his shirts looked like a dress on me so there was no reason to wear pants.

Bella looked shocked. “What? I can't compliment my cousin?” As Bella failed to be suck up I sighed, she was always overly nice when she wanted something.

“suck up” Owen mumbled, Bella shot him a glare as he looked at the TV and not her.

“What do you want?” I said.

“m-my truck won't start... Could you guys look at if for me?” she asked, I signed and nodded. Paul who didn't look up from the TV slightly nodded. “after this, I need to see Booth and Bones catch the killer”

“they always do” I said, smiling.

Bella immediately jumped out of her seat. “t-thanks!” she's stopped and took a double take. “I'll be outside washing it while I wait for you”

The three of us nodded not taking our eyes off the TV. We didn't really notice she left until Owen spoke up and we gave him out undivided attention. “ya know, you certainly have a type sis”

I raised an eyebrow. “what's that mean?”

“you've been in love with David Boreanaz since the show Angel, he was indeed a big buff vampire with dark hair and in Bones he the same way just bigger and goofyer and minus the vampire” Owen explained.

“Buffy the vampire slayer was better... And had good tips” Paul added, I gave him a side eye. “sorry” he mumbled.

“I don't really have a type” I said with a nervous chuckle. “big, goofy buff dude” Owen pushed. “Seeley Booth and Emmett cullen are the basically the same thing, your fictional and real boy friend are very similar”

“why are we even talking about this?” I asked getting up and shutting the TV off. “I'm gonna change and we'll go help little miss. Main character” I said stretching.

After I got and old t-shirt and jeans on, I went out side while Paul and Owen got Uncle Charlie's tools. Paul sighed and droped the metal box on the ground as Owen climed into the bed with one of his my Stephen King books.

“put SpongeBob down and give it a crank” Paul said to Bella as he opened the hood. Bella climed into the squeaky vehicle and tuned the key. The truck made a sickly noise as Paul rummaged around. He sighed and wiped the grease off his hands onto his shorts.

“you got a battery?” he asked. I shook my head no. “we used it on the Impala were working on, remember?”

“let's try and jump start it then” he said as Owen handed him the jumper cables that lived in the bed of the truck.

Paul hooked one side to Charlie's Cruiser, as he hooked it to the truck battery the truck rocked suddenly. I looked up and saw Emmett on the roof.

“can you act human, we have Neighbors” I chuckled, he jumped down as Edward rolled up in his fancy-pants Volvo.

“what's wrong with the truck?” Emmett asked.

“its not starting”

“none of your business” Paul said over me. Emmett's gold eyes looked towrds Paul with hate. I rolled my eyes.

“it might be the spark plug” Emmett said, examining the engine. “I can bring one over later tonight” he said shutting the hood.

“thanks” bella said quickly and turned back to Edward. “there's still a dent though” Emmett said, grabbing the red metel and popping it back into place.

“now, that's hot” I said nudging Paul, He scoffed. “I could do that”

Emmett chuckled while Paul gave him a death glare.

“gald Enzo Ferrari could be of service” Paul said rolling his eyes, Emmett ignored him and turned to me.

“you wanna come over tomorrow?” he smiled leaning against the truck. “Sure, I want Owen to come too. He doesn't like to be left alone anymore”

“Sure, Carlisle and Esme want to meet him” he smiled, our conversation was cut short when Billy and Jacob rolled up in his new truck.

“peace was made, what's the problem?” Emmett asked when he saw my face drop. I shrugged. “I don't know... I just feel like I've been walking on eggshells since the meeting”

“well if they really care about you they wouldn't make you feel that way” Emmett said loud enough for Paul to hear.

Paul and Jacob are the only two that had been acting normal since the meeting. Paul didn't care, I mean he hated the Cullens but he was one of my closest friends and he wasn't gonna ruin it. Jacob just didn't know anything about the supernatural world yet so he was completely clueless.

He actually liked Emmett, Jacob came over to the house the other day to help me and Emmett on my Impala, they got along great. Jacob couldn't figure out what the packs problem was, he even asked and I couldn't give him a real awnser.

“we should go” Edward said coming up to us. Emmett shrugged. “you can... I don't have to”

My best friend rolled his eyes and gave me hug before racing off in his Volvo. “What was that about?” Bella asked.

“I'm sure you'll crack that case too Sherlock” I mumbled as we watched Jacob hop out of the silver truck.

“Hey, Emmett” Jacob smiled as he pulled out Billy's wheelchair. Honestly, Billy got over the whole thing. I think he was just galde Emmett was respectful towards me and and wasn't a killing machine.

Jacob and Emmett did some kinda bro fist bump which was bizzar in itself, I worry what Jake will think when he knows the truth about it all. Would him and Emmett still be friends? Would he look past all the wolf and vampire drama?

“you here for the game?” he asked Emmett, he looked over at me and just prayed he'll say no. I hate sports.

“I'll be upstairs with y/n” he said as Charlie walked outside with a smile. He greeted his best friend and Jacob then turned to Emmett.

“your welcome to join us if you want Emmett”

Emmett nodded with a smile. “I appreciate the offer sir, but I promise y/n we'd watch a couple of movies together”

As we walked towrds the house Billy spoke up. “any luck on the Waylon case?”

“well, I don't think it was an animal that killed him” Charlie awnsered as he pushed Billy's wheelchair up the small stairs.

Jacob and Bella looked at me and Emmett while they spoke about the murder. Emmett gulped and took my hand while we followed the group into the house.

“so spread the word out at the rez, huh? Keep the kids out” Charlie asked. “will do, we don't want anyone eles getting hurt” Billy said looking directly at me and Emmett.

As the sports watcher filed into the living room, I pulled Emmett towrds the stairs. He jokingly stoped and looked at the TV. “ya sure you don't want to watch the game?”

“we can watch it if you really want to” I smiled. I quickly shook his head no. “na, let's go to your room”

As we walked up the stairs Uncle Charlie called out to us. “better keep that bedroom door open!”

“okay!” I said rolling my eyes knowing he couldn't see me.

When we got my room Emmett plopped on to my bed as I looked for a movie to watch. He rolled over onto his stomach and reached for the book that was on my nightstand. It was Christine by Stephen King.

“what do you want to watch?” I asked, Emmett shrugged flipping through the small book. “I don't care, as long as your cuddling me... I don't care”

I chuckled and looked over my shoulder at him. His eye brows were knitted together as he concentrated on the book. “you can read it if you want, it's not like the movie but it's good”

“yeah... I might give it a try” he said as tossed him a padd of red sticky notes, he pealed one off for a book mark. “now... Movie, what are we watching?”

“Pult Fiction or Bill and Ted's excellent adventure?” I asked, Emmett looked up, thinking for a moment. “Bill and Ted” he smiled.

I nodded a put the movie in before crawling into bed with him. He wrapped his arms around me while I rested my head on his chest. I smiled feeling immediate comfort. “your like a big teddy bear” I said wrapping my arm around his waist, scooting closer to him. He chuckled and kissed the top of my head.

The rest of the day we stayed in bed, Owen came in about two hours later and watched Lethal weapon 3 with us. When 6 'o'clock hit Emmett got a call from Alice to come home, He promised to help get supplies for tomorrow. He said his goodbyes and kissed my goodbye before going outside to his jeep.

A/n: man, sorry this took so long, hopefully I'll post more regularly with this story. I'm so happy you all enjoy this story and want to read more.

[letters2won]

GOOD 4 U!

03; Bewitched

Your legs bounces up and down as the realization hits you.

You’re not a regretful person. You don’t regret accidentally taking a raccoon home instead of your beloved dog or how you showed a Jacob Elordi edit in front of your English class when you meant to present your presentation on “The Outsiders”.

But fake dating? not your smartest idea…

You have to be crazy for suggesting it. You have to be even crazier to agree to it. But what do you expect from a down bad admirer and a girl who wishes to move on?

The adored cat-like boy sitting across from you, felt his hands get sweaty. He knows you’re here to lay out some ground rules, but this was basically a date in his eyes!

You two sat in awkward silence, unsure on how to start the conversation. “Can’t believe your ex hates my guts… I'm just a silly little guy!” he joked out and you let a giggle slip out.

After that small joke he made, you guys were able to relax and have a smooth conversation. Jungwon even managed to started a debate on how cats were better than dogs.

“You’re literally betraying your own dog right now!” you said through fits of giggles. He was laughing alongside you as he ate the shared cake you guys got.

Soon after you two were full off of sweets and had calmed down, deciding it was best to start the rules as you see the sun setting.

“How should we go about this..?” he began, trying to hide his excitement.

You pondered for a minute before responding, “Rule number one! Don’t fall in love!”

Jungwon's smile falters a little before he proceeds to roll his eyes, “Seriously? Am I not your type?” he teased.

“Maybe if you were Choso..” you seriously considered and he glared at you.

“Of course you’re a Jujutsu Kaisen fan.. it all makes sense now.”

“HEY?!”

You huffed and then continued, “Oh another one! Rule number two, we hold hands and give each cheek kisses to make it believable!”

Jungwon's eyes widened. He only ever imagined giving you small pecks of kisses, he can’t believe his manifestations are coming true right now. You on the other hand can’t believe you really came up with that. Feeling embarrassed, you moved on rather quickly.

“Oh! I got one! Rule number three, only our close friends will know the truth.”

“Do we have to let them in on our plans..” he mumbled.

“Well yea! I suck at lying, I even got a whole medal at home for being the worst liar in school!” which you stated a little too proudly. He should’ve questioned that but he didn’t, instead he gave you a love sick smile and sighed dreamily, “You’re so talented…”

“Rule number four, We go on dates every friday or saturday!”

Jungwon added on, “We should also always go to each events..” and you weighed the pros and cons of that. For a second, you almost forgot that this was your student council president that was going along with everything that you were saying.

He plays such an important role for the school yet here you are dragging him into your little petty revenge plan on your ex without an incentive.

“Jungwon, what do you want to benefit from this? I feel kind of selfish for only thinking about my side of the plan..”

He let out a hum before giving you his famous dimpled smile which has you bewitched. “I want to spend more time with you in all of this.”

There it is again, that funny feeling. Something about Jungwon is making your heart do somersaults and cartwheels. You’re still confused about what's happening and tried to push it aside. You never felt like this with your ex so why now?

You cleared your throat after realizing you were staring at him with a dumbfounded look for a good moment, “O-oh okay! Easy peasy!”

He let out a breathy laugh as you tried acting nonchalant, shifting in your seat feeling your face get hot. “Moving on! For the last rule…hm.” You two started thinking hard, almost felt like your thinking caps were going to explode any second now.

You gasped and gave him a wide smile, “ Rule number five, every Thursday you watch the new Jujutsu Kaisen episode with me.” He gave you a deadpanned look.

“I’m not watching Jujutsu Kaisen with you.”

“Please! None of my friends wants to watch or hear my thoughts and since you’re my soon to be boyfriend you have to tune in to my rant sessions about them!” you rambled on, giving him those expecting wide eyes.

Jungwon was gone. He had officially lost it. Soon to be boyfriend? Yeah, he’s agreeing with everything you're saying from now on.

“I’ll do anything you ask me from now on queen!”

Oh boy… he is down bad.

PREV ✩ MASTERLIST ✩ NEXT

╰┈➤ this feels kind of rushed… i hope you guys enjoyed </3

SYNOPSIS in which you’re DEFINITELY not upset that your ex moved on really easily (spoiler alert: you are!). Yang Jungwon, the student council president is glad your ex moved on because it’s time for him to shoot his shot (just not in the way he wanted.. a win is a win in his book!)

TAGLIST < open > @firstclassjaylee @sincerelyrki @w0nslvr @poollabug @mrchweeee @nanuer @jwonistic @nyfwyeonjun @jiamini

[legoiscrying]

K2 appreciation post. I'm so emotional about them 💔

For me, their relationship is "Kyle supports Kenny, and Kenny supports Kyle".

Out of main four, Kyle is acknowledging and overall appreciating Kenny the most. He's also almost always the first one to consider Kenny's problems and help him with them, like it was in Major Boobage (S12E3), where Kenny was struggling with addiction. Other even more significant example is S14E3, where Mysterion tells others about his

immortality. Even tho it didn't really work after all, Kyles does something that no one did before: He sees Mysterion's reaction, how upset he is, and decides to consider Mysterion's words as true. We can't really tell if he actually did or he pretended to just so he can make Mysterion feel better (still sus), but the truth is: No one has ever tried before. Except for Kyle.

And it's not only Kyle supporting Kenny. Kenny does too. I'd say he doesn't directly participate it Kyle's problems, but I freak out every time when Kenny's trying to comfort Kyle with his words or touches.

I'm gonna leave this next one without commentary, because they are just so 💔💔

The most honorable mention: Jewbilee (S3E9). I'm just. I'm not even gonna talk about how at the start of the episode Kenny was inviting Kyle to watch a meteor shower with him, how Kyle was determined to take Kenny with him to Jewbilee ("Maybe you can go with me! Then it won't suck so hard!" KYLE BROFLOVSKI??). But THIS LINE is my absolute favorite. Yes Kyle, he is special. Please, if you love these two as much as I do, rewatch this episode. It's just them, spending time together and some shit happening

Lastly, if I talk about the ship specifically, I would like to add how I see their romantic relationships: They probably wouldn't have the "childhood crush" thingy. What I more prefer is, them growing up a bit afar from each other (not literally afar. just. emotionally yk yk), keeping their happy memories, but eventually coming back to each other, as they realize how similar they are to each other and how much comfort and healing they can give each other (I can make a post about this)

[flower-boi16]

How The Circus WASTES Potential

So recently I just finished watching all of Season 1 of Helluva Boss. Season 1 was...fine. Not great, but it was enjoyable even if half of the episodes were kinda forgettable (Except for Cherubs, that one just straight-up sucks), but there were some good aspects to Season 1. One of those good aspects was episode 7, Ozzie's AKA the best episode of the entire show. Ozzie's was a legitimately great episode that left a lot of great potential for the show to explore that could have made it great...

...and then The Circus happened. I already didn't like The Circus to begin with but after rewatching Season 1 I can safely say that this episode legitimately pisses me off now with HOW MUCH potential it wastes. In this post, I'm going to explain all the interesting potential Ozzie's left for the show, all the interesting ideas and character arcs that the episode leaves for the show to explore and how The Circus completely ruins all of that

1. Stolas

First let's talk about Stolas. Believe it or not, In Season 1 Stolas was...actually fine. This was because Season 1 didn't repeatedly coddle and woobify Stolas unlike Season 2 where we are supposed to sympathize with him for some reason. There was a lot of potential for Stolas to go through an arc of becoming a better person and realizing his mistakes, Ozzie's shows that.

Ozzie scolds Stolas for "giving it all up for lust", by cheating on Stella with an IMP to satisfy his sexual desires. And after that, Blitz cuts off Stolas due to being upset that their relationship was just about Stolas wanting to fuck Blitz, and after Blitz drives away Stolas just...sits down on the stairs to gaze at the sky.

Ye see, this could make for a very interesting character. A man who cheated on his wife so he could try to satisfy his sexual desires for someone else, but hurt others while doing so, including the person he's abusing. Because of Stolas's selfish need to be...really really really horny, he ended up hurting the people that cared about him, who HE also cared about. He hurt Stella through cheating on her by hurting her feelings, he hurt Octavia by starting this whole mess and paying more attention to Blitz than his own daughter, and he's hurt Blitz because well...he's the guy he's sexually harassing to satisfy his own hornieness.

This could have set up an arc for Stolas where he realizes his own mistakes and goes through a character arc of becoming a better and less toxic person; a redemption arc, if you will. This could have been incredibly interesting to explore...

...and what does The Circus do? Why, it throws away ALL of that. Season 1 Stolas was a man who made many mistakes and was heavily flawed...Season 2 Stolas meanwhile is my least favorite character of all fiction. Instead of beginning a possible character arc for Stolas where he grows as a person and makes amends with the people he hurt just to satisfy his own sexual desires, it decides to erase ALL of his flaws and turn him into an UwU soft boy.

The episode is the beginning of Stolas's woobification; instead of a man who hurt others to satisfy his sexual desires, we are supposed to see Stolas as an UwU soft boy who we are supposed to sympathize with because...he has a mean wife. I'm sorry, but that's not a sympathetic enough quality for us to like a character, especially when you can't even sympathize with Stolas in the first place because he isn't a good person, in fact, while writing this and realizing how much Stolas hurt others to satisfy his sexual desires, I actually loathe Season 2's characterization of him even more.

Instead of having Stolas begin to grow as a person, The Circus tries to make Stolas into an UwU soft boy and we are just supposed to forget all of his wrongdoings as a person AND as a father. It throws away all potential to make Stolas interesting and makes him an UwU soft boy instead.

There was potential to make Stolas an interesting character who grows from his mistakes and becomes a better person, but The Circus throws ALL of that away.

2. Stella

So, this is the most obvious one; Stella. I want to make a post about my own ideas about how Stella could have been a more interesting character, so I'll just say this; like with Stolas, there could have been potential to make Stella interesting. We didn't really see Stella that much in Season 1, the only times where we ever saw her were when she was yelling at Stolas for cheating on her in Loo Loo Land and when she was talking to Striker on the phone in The Harvest Moon.

Aside from that Stella was barely in Season 1. That being said however, there could have been potential to make Stella more interesting. They could have made Stella a good character...

...but they didn't. Instead of making Stella an interesting character, the show instead decided to make her into a one-dimensional abusive asshole. My issue with this isn't that they "ruined" Stella, my issue with this is that they threw away all potential of making her interesting. However, not only that, they not only removed everything that made Stolas a nuanced and interesting character, but they ALSO turned what could have been an interesting and nuanced conflict into a "UwU soft boy gets away from mean woman!!!".

They made Stella SO one-dimensional. Like, that "I like tormenting you" scene was so fucking LAME. They made Stella into a one-dimensional asshole rather than actually making her an interesting character. They could have made her flawed like Stolas and they could have BOTH grown as people here, making this an interesting and nuanced conflict, where they have both made mistakes and are heavily flawed people. But, no, who needs THAT when we could have Stella be a boring asshole and have Stolas be a boring UwU soft boy. It over simplifies BOTH characters and removes everything that could have made them interesting.

There was potential to make Stella a nuanced and interesting character like Stolas, and there was a potential to make Stella and Stolas's conflict more interesting and nuanced by portraying them both as heavily flawed people, but The Circus threw ALL of that away.

3. Stolitz

I already talked about how The Circus ruined Stolitz as a plotline and how the episode began all the issues the relationship has in my Stolitz post so I'll keep this brief; Stolitz in Season 1 was an intentionally toxic relationship where Blitz felt bound to Stolas and where Stolas just wanted to fuck Blitz. It was an interesting, intentionally toxic relationship showing what happens when a relationship is only based on one fucking the other.

The Circus meanwhile tries to forget ALL of that and tries to turn Stolitz into an UwU childhood friendship and ignores all the toxic aspects of the relationship. It removes all the things that made the relationship interesting in Season 1 and tries to make this a relationship for the audience to root for...even though Stolitz is an objectively toxic ship and NO AMOUNT of retconning is going to change that. The episode begins ALL of the problems with Stolitz and after that point, Stolitz turns into the show's worst-written plotline EVER, and it all begins with this episode.

4. Conclusion

The Circus is one of the worst episodes of the show. I dislike this episode even MORE after rewatching Season 1. Helluva Boss's ideas had the potential to be interesting, there were a lot of ways the show could have gone with those ideas in Season 2 and how it could explore them...but instead of that, the show wasted ALL of its potentially interesting ideas in just. one. episode. The Circus is one of the worst episodes of Helluva Boss, it destroys all of the potential the show could have had and is the beginning of its MANY issues.