#just don’t talk over us crips
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I want to talk a little bit about Daniel in the Interview with the Vampire show, because the new trailer material has me stuck thinking about him, and also I’ve never written about how meaningful he is as disabled character to me before.
I don’t see many people thinking about show!Daniel in these terms, but he’s a canon disabled character. And I think the way he is written is just SO good. The acerbic wit, his relationship to doctors and his medication, his rueful acceptance of the way his disability has changed him. It is all so correct!! It’s really incredibly rare to have not only a disabled character written this well but specifically a chronically ill character written this well. His illness is always present; it doesn’t get forgotten about by the story. It gives Daniel insight into the vampires (more on this in a min), but it also gives Louis and Armand leverage over him. When Louis triggers his Parkinson’s symptoms? Deeply not ok. But that’s what made it such a great scene, and really made Louis feel dangerous and threateningin that moment. Armand and Louis arranging Daniel’s meds is a sign of great care and also great power over Daniel. It’s the perfect way to communicate the complicated power dynamic in their relationship.
I also just fucking love that this show takes place in 2022 and doesn’t erase the pandemic. Covid is a very present concern for Daniel and I cannot describe how validating that is for me as someone who is clinically vulnerable to Covid and who has had to really limit my life and take a lot of precautions because everyone else has decided to stop caring whether they pass on Covid or not. The fact that Daniel gets on a plane to Dubai is a BIG DEAL. He’s risking his life to talk to Louis and Armand before he’s even in the room with them. He really wants to be there. I have to make a similar calculation every time I travel, and trust me, getting on that plane knowing getting sick could spiral you into even worse health or kill you is really hard.
I think making Daniel disabled and including the pandemic is kind of a genius level decision on a thematic level. Of course Daniel is now facing down his mortality, which gives him a whole new lens on the vampires and the fact that he once asked them to turn him. And the pandemic further highlights his fragility, and is also possibly being used as a cover for drama that’s happening in the vampire world. But I think it also really sets Daniel up as a foil to Louis.
There’s a lot of analysis of the vampire chronicles that reads vampirism as a metaphor for queerness. But I would actually propose that it’s a much neater parallel for disability and illness in a lot of ways. So many of Louis’s initial experiences after being turned resonated with me, as someone who became chronically ill in my 20s. My appetite and relationship to food completely changed, much like Louis. My relationship with the outdoors and the sun changed, because of dysautonomia and allergy reasons. I was very mad, and very depressed, and I too have missed out on birthday parties and big life events like Louis did because I was too sick to go. Hell, you can even say that the way that Louis is treated as evil by his family, that the way vampires literally can’t be a part of society during the day, is reminiscent of ableist exclusion and ugly laws. (Ugly laws were laws that forbid disabled people, especially those with visible differences, from being out in public, and they were on the books in many American municipalities until the 1970s.) You can look at Lestat being an out and proud vampire in the first few episodes on the season and imploring Louis to leave his shame behind as a queer thing, but you can also view it as a disabled thing. Disabled people are portrayed as monstrous so often (and in a way that has gone relatively unexamined compared to say, the queer coded villain trope) that sometimes it’s just easier to embrace that label: I’m the monstrous Crip, but at least I’m not ashamed of or disgusted by who I am anymore.
I do think the real strength of this adaptation is that while you can find parallels between queerness or disability or other forms of marginalization with vampirism, ultimately it’s not a one-to-one parallel. It speaks to the real world but ultimately it is a gothic horror story about supernatural monsters. So I don’t mean to say that vampirism directly equals disability, because it does not. But I do think that making Daniel disabled was an intentional choice to help draw out some of those parallels, and I think the text is richer for it.
So Louis and Daniel have had these kind of parallel experiences of uncontrollable and difficult things happening to their bodies. It sets them up perfectly as foils, and even, I would argue, as the A plot and B Plot protagonists. This is one of my favorite ways of kind of examining the structure of a TV show (or maybe it’s that most of my favorite shows seem to be structured this way?). When TV was all episodic, it would be common to refer to the A plot (mystery of the week), B plot (interpersonal drama happening as the mystery gets solved) and C plot (any overarching plot tying the season together) in an episode. Now that stuff is serialized, there’s often a main protagonist, who has the main dramatic question and the most agency, and then there is often a secondary B plot that explores similar themes and mirrors the A plot, or presents a second main character who is the ldifferent side of the same coin” to the main protagonist. (My favorite example of this is Flint and Max in Black Sails, and I’ve also made the argument that Wilhelm and Sara fit this pattern in Young Royals.) In IwtV, Louis is obviously the main protagonist of the show, especially in the A Plot, which is the stuff taking place in New Orleans/Paris. But I would argue that Daniel is the protagonist of the B Plot set in Dubai. At the very least they’re intentionally set up as mirrors of each other:
They are both unreliable narrators, who are struggling with the way memory contorts (through memory erasure, illness, deliberate obfuscations, and just the passage of time). The most recent teaser trailer, where we hear Louis saying “I don’t remember that”, with panic in his voice, further underlined this similarity between Louis and Daniel to me. I don’t know if it means that Louis has also had his memory tampered with, as I’m assuming Daniel has, but I do think it means that Louis is going to be struggling with feeling out of control of his own narrative more in season 2, a thing that was already starting for Daniel in season 1.
They are also both locked into power struggles with people more powerful than they are. The fact that Louis is under Lestat in the flashbacks and above Daniel in the Dubai scenes in terms of power/status makes it all the more interesting. And, if we want to go ahead and assume that the Devils Minion’s years have happened in the past by the time we get to Dubai— it’s possible that both Daniel and Louis are united in being the less powerful partner in their own respective fucked up gothic romances.
They’re also both the audience’s entry point into their respective stories. Louis’s narration guides us into the world of vampires. Daniel’s questioning satisfies our human curiosity in Dubai.
I think one of the things that makes the show so special is the way that these two protagonists interact. In a lot of shows the a plot and the b plot stay pretty separate. I love talking about Black Sails for this because I think it’s such a good example; Flint and Max never exchange dialogue the entire show, even though they’re so clearly affecting each other the whole time. But the way that Louis and Daniel clash in Dubai is so exciting. We see them both wrestling for control of the narrative. It’s thrilling to watch and it just hammers home the theme of how complicated and changeable stories can be.
I am SO excited to see how the Dubai scenes play out in season 2 because of it. I really can’t wait. I’m really hoping we’ll see Daniel and Louis’s relationship evolve in surprising ways, and I’m holding my breath that we’ll get a lot of Armandaniel material to work with. (I have a whole other post drafted that’s much less smart than this one and is just me waxing poetic about Devil Minion’s theories which I may post at some point. You have been warned.)
I do have two wishes for Daniel in the new season, and they’re 1: that he gets to have romance/sex, because disabled (and older!) characters are so often seen as unworthy of being desired, and I would like to see that challenged and 2: that he continues to refuse to be turned/is not offered a vampiric cure for Parkinson’s. The magic cure for a disability or chronic illness is probably my least favorite disability trope, because it serves to erase disabled characters and representation from the narrative, and I want to see my experiences continue to be reflected in Daniel’s. That means that whatever ending Daniel’s story has will probably have at least a bit of tragedy baked into it, but I’m ok with that.
#interview with the vampire amc#interview with the vampire#iwtv#daniel molloy#armandaniel#devils minion#louis de pointe du lac#armand#my meta#my crip media reviews
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9th member getting in a bad fight w skz (v v v angsty)
Hit me where it hurts.
Warning: very traumatizing, read at your own risk!
Pairing: skz x 9th member
Summary: friends fight all the time but eventually get back together right?
!not proofread so forgive me for mistakes!
You will hate me after this but I love you 😆Enjoy!
-🩷
*
My body stumbles into the dorm rooms. A giggle leaves my mouth. My vision was blurry, no doubt there. The room was spinning but in a good way.
The scent of a good home cooked meal filled my nostrils as I sat on the floor and removed my tied shoes.
Another giggle escapes my mouth as I get up and fall down on my bum.
“Y/n? Is that you?” A voice calls that makes me jump a little. I look up to see leeknow walking into the little entrance of the dorms.
“Heyyy Oppa,” my words slur as I get up again slightly sliding but able to balance.
He looks at me examining my body. He was wearing sweatpants and a white hoodie. His glasses were on too meaning he was cooking. He stood there arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.
“Have you been drinking again?” His voice is calm yet harsh.
“Maybe,” I simply say before giggling again and walking past him making my way to the living room.
His body turns with mine as he follows behind continuing the conversation.
“Are you fucking serious? We talked about this.” His tone was getting louder and I didn’t like it at all. I stopped and looked at him. His face a few inches away from mine.
“But Oppa I thought you said you would support me in everything I do,” I tilt my head and bite my lip. Slowly a smirk crips up. “Don’t you like seeing me happy?” I hiccup.
He takes a step back and I frown, “You’ve been coming home drunk for the past two weeks! What is wrong with you? We’ve been worried sick!” He growls quite literally. His face turning red and his arms crossed.
“Okay but what’s the big deal I had a little to drink, whatever,” I roll my eyes and turn my body to continue walking to the living room.
His hand grabs mine. I squirm a little trying to make him let go. “Let go Leeknow your hurting me,”
“Look at yourself Y/n! Just look! You’re a fucking mess!” His voice is loud now. Filled with anger and running through out the house. His towering over me. Making me feel small.
“Leeknow I said let go of me now!” I yelp but he doesn’t. His breathing is heavy and his looking at me with dark eyes. Filled with hurt and anger.
“Your killing yourself-“
I cut him off. Not even bothering to listen to the long speech he was about to give because what was the point? We had been going through this for the past week. The same old boring ass speech.
“I don’t fucking care! You didn’t care about me before now why all of a sudden you care about me now huh? Huh?! You’re a monster, you and all the boys are!” I’m now yelling at the top of my voice. His hand lets go shocked at my reaction. He steps back trying to process what I was trying to say. His eyes searching my face.
“What do you mean I didn’t care? Who was fucking there for you when you got eliminated? Who was h there for you when you broke your ankle? Who the fuck was there for you the nights you couldn’t learn a choreography? Huh? Who the fuck was there for you when your mum disowned you? Stop being a fucking little bitch about everything and running away from your problems. Face them! Face them instead of drinking them away!”
“Don’t you ever talk about my mother again leeknow,” my voice is low, anger laced all over it. It almost comes out as venom.
His stood in-front of me, his hands are in a fist. Why was his hand in a fist? Was he going to hit me? What was he trying to do?
“If you going to fucking hit me, hit me! Hit me leeknow-“
I step closer to his body. My finger poking at his chest and he clenched his jaw. The world is still spinning and the room is dim.
“Hey! What the fuck is going on?!” Hyunjin drops his phone on the ground and runs towards us. His hand automatically wrapping around my waist and pulling me away from leeknow who is huffing in anger. Trying to calm down.
“What the fuck Y/n?! Have you been drinking again?” Hyunjin asks me when he puts me down. His runs his hands through his hair as he starts to examine me. His eyes going back and forth between me and leeknow. “Please don’t tell me you haven’t,”
I go quiet but Leeknow Ofcourse had to step in.
“Yes she has been-“
“It doesn’t have to do with any of you!” I yell at him. I grab my jacket that laid on the floor and slightly stumble. Hyunjin is still processing what’s going on but leeknow still has a lot to say, I see it, I sense it.
“Yes the fuck it does because you promised you would stop! Look at the way you’re talking to leeknow! You can’t even see in a straight line for crying out loud!” Hyunjin’s outbursts caused me to snap back into reality.
“Why are you on my dick Hyunjin? Why are you alwyals in my business?! God! Ever since you came back from haitus you’ve been such a clingy bitch!” The words leave my mouth and my brain stops. I instantly regret what I had just said. I knew Hyunjin didn’t like his hiatus and it was the worst time in his life.
“Hyunjin’s I didn’t mean-“
“Are you serious? Are you serious right now y/n?” Leeknow cuts into the argument. His now walking towards both of us. His hands waving in the air as he speaks. “Why would you say such a thing to him? You know how sensitive that is!”
Hyunjin’s eyes start to shine, his lips turning into a frown then a scowl, “and ever since you were sexually assaulted you’ve been moping around like a bitch!” Hyunjin took a step away from me his hands were shaking. His voice is louder than ever. His body upward and straight.
The word hit me hard. My body starts to shake aswell. This was the biggest fight we had ever gotten into and we had just taken it on another level.
“Oh great then why don’t we all just leave eachother alone huh?!” I stumble back again, the alchohol getting to me as hard as the emotions were. “You know what? Fuck you leekmow, fuck you hyunjin!”
“That’s great because you know what?! Chan never wanted you in the group before! He just picked you cause you were a sad fucking trainee that nobody wanted in their team-“
“Hyunjin!” A voice yells and we all turn at Chan and Felix who are standing at the door. Obviously coming from outside. They were both wearing coats and beanies due to the coldness outside.
“I’m sorry! I had to say it, She’s a bitch!” He glares at me and then back at Chan “and I mean it, I can be a bitch to if I wanted too,” he spits at me.
I look at him in disbelief. My heart ached. My heart ached so much I couldn’t help but hold my chest.
“Where the fuck have you been Y/n? So you know me and Felix have been walking out in the cold for hours looking for you?!” I look up at Chan who is now in the same area as us. Leeknow still standing there pissed off trying to calm down.
“Why would you? Because I’m a sad little girl that needs saving?!” I scoff when I reply to Chan. His face falls, so does Felix’s. My Han trying to support my weight as I watch everyone in the room glaring at me.
Was this even real? Was I even real?
“Are you drunk Y/n?” He looks at me, eyes wide opened. His hands turn into a fist as well. His jaw tensed up.
“Ask your little fucking friends that you wanted,” I scoff and turn my back on them starting to walk out the door. I fall to the ground (quite literally) and put on my shoes. Then get up. The boys all watching in shock trying to figure out what to do.
“Where are you going?!” Chan yells, “running away from your problems won’t solve anything! Y/n! Stop!” His shouts are getting louder as I open the door not bothering to listening to him.
“I’m going somewhere fucking away from you and your pathetic little team! Chan leave me the fuck alone.” Everything goes quiet as I unlock the door but the glass shattering causes me to turn and look at their direction.
Pieces of glass laid in front of them. The handle of the face still in Chan’s hand.
“Good go away and don’t come back all you do is cause us problems!”
“Hyung!” Felix gasps and grabs his arm trying to calm him down. “Don’t say that! Ever-body just please calm down and let’s talk about it-“
“I didn’t want to be in the group in the first place!”
“We all didn’t want you either but look where we both are!”
“Hyung stop!” Felix puts his hand over his mouth. “That’s not true! Look at you guys.” His eyes tears up as he looks at me. My heart breaks. “Y/n just come back inside and let’s talk about it okay?”
“Let her go Felix, she’s pathetic anyway.” Hyunjin says as he turns around to walk back to his room.
I slam the front door and run up the apartments stairs. I need to get away for a moment. I needed to think. I stumble through out until I get to the roof stop.
I take a deep breath and find my legs swinging off the edge. I look down to say the busy street.
When did life get this busy? This out of control?
I had to deal with a lot. I couldn’t anymore. I wouldn’t. If the boys didn’t want me anymore then I had no one.
Hot tears run down my cheeks. The pain in my chest aching even worse than before. The wind blew on my hair as I took a deep breath in and let myself go.
“No wait! Y/n!” I hear I.N’s scream. Instant regret fills my body but it’s to late. My body falling down the different floors, gasps and screams fill the street until everything goes quiet. My mind goes quiet.
Then end.
*
Y’all I feel so bad omg forgive me 😭
-🩷
PT 2:
#skz comfort#skz imagines#skz angst#skz x reader#skz drabbles#skz fluff#skz stay#skz x y/n#skz x you#stray kids drabbles#skz hyunjin#hwang hyujin imagines#bangchan#bang chan angst#straykids x reader#straykids#stray kids as boyfriend material#stray kids fanfic#stray kids angst#stray kids imagines#stray kids x y/n
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Early Mornigs ~ Lewis Hamilton
♡ Lewis Hamilton x Reader (!Russell Sister)
Description: Early mornings at the Paddock become a lot more interesting
~fluff & a bit of angst ~
Weekend mornings were your new favourite time of the week.
It had happened by complete accident.
You had been extra early one Friday morning to the Paddock and made a beeline for the Mercedes catering truck to find it wasn’t completely set up. There was one table and chairs set up and someone was sitting there already.
But it wasn’t just anyone. It was Lewis Hamilton.
Being George’s older sister, you had met the man before, when George had first signed his contract, at a Mercedes Friends and Family event. You saw him around the garage but you were always hiding away in George’s side, keeping out of everyone’s way.
You had never spoken to him alone. But you did need somewhere to sit until everything else set up. You were far too aware that he was a multiple time world champion and practical living legend but you reminded yourself he was still a human being too.
“Hi…eh, Lewis?” You ask, “Would you mind if I take a seat?” You nod to the chair on the other side of the large table, while juggling your coffee mug, bag and laptop.
He looks up from his phone and recognition dawns on his face, he says your name like you chat everyday, “George’s sister right?”
You think that it must speak volumes about his character to bother remembering the names of peripheral family of your teammate at this kind of elite level. “Of course, take a seat.”
“Thanks so much. I didn’t mean to get here so early.” You apologize.
“No worries.” He waves away your apology. “It’s nice to be here before the craziness descends.” He smiles softly.
“Oh God, am I interrupting your pre race ritual? Pretend I’m not here.” You rush out, opening your laptop to put a barrier between the two of you.
“No, not at all. I just like to get my coffee before the mayhem. I’m not a morning person by nature so I like to have some time before jumping into the day’s meetings.”
You shut your laptop down with a click, “Oh that’s good, because it is far too early for me to start work.” You grin and crip your mug with both hands.
“You work this early?” He asks, his head tipping to the side slightly, giving you his full attention.
It was complicated to say the least, “Eh…I mean…not…”
“Some things are too difficult to talk about this early in the morning.” He says leaning across to you ever so slightly.
“Yeah.” You admit with a sigh.
“Wait, I thought you didn’t like Formula 1?” You look at him in disbelief as he remembers something you mentioned when you had been chatting to him and Toto when George was signing his contract. “It’s pretty unusual for everyone in the family not to be consumed by it all.” His smile is smaller, as if he’s self-conscious of remembering something so specific about you.
You lean over and fake whisper, “I probably wouldn’t watch motor sports if George wasn’t involved.”
He places a hand over his heart. “That’s cold.”
“It’s just cars driving in circles.” You quip, using the description that always drove George mad with indignation.
But Lewis just throws his head back with a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”
“So you’re a good sister to come here and put up with all this then?” He asks as he idly traces a finger around the rim of his mug and you have the sudden ache for him to softly trace his finger like that against your collarbone.
“I love George. We all helped him make his dream come through, and now he’s helping me.” You say and Lewis doesn’t push when you don’t give anymore information.
“It’s nice when the first thing someone talks to me about isn’t my racing strategy, my thoughts on FIA regulations and the rest of it.” He admits.
“Oh damn, I was actually going to ask you about a race in 2015 when…” You say but laugh instead, “I can’t even come up with an example.” You shrug.
It was then you got hit by the effect of Lewis’ full smile, one that lit up his eyes and made your heart beat that little bit faster.
*****************
You spent all Friday evening overthinking it all. If you turned up to Paddock early again on Saturday and Lewis was there, would he think you were being a stalker?
You ignored the tiny voice that mentioned that if he wasn’t there, that you’d be disappointed.
So you turned up, the same time as the previous day and to your utter relief Lewis smiled when he saw you and pointed to the chair opposite him.
“Fancy seeing you here.” He grins.
“I swear I’m not stalking you.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop. The familiar grip of anxiety clasped around your throat.
“I’m going to have to call off the restraining order now.” He says with a straight face and you panic for a split second before his mouth twitches into a grin, “I’m just joking, I never thought you were. You know people usually follow me around to see the trophies and hear the on-track stories, I kind of think that would send you running.”
“Straight to a plane and back to England.” You confirm when your shoulders relax at his jovial mood.
He laughs again and you’re worried that the sound is becoming more addictive than your morning caffeine hit.
"I hate driving." You admit and he looks at you like you're a puzzle he wants to solve, "that's why I'm here so early. I avoid all the traffic and there's plenty of room for me to try and park without anyone looking at how many tries it takes me." You blush, wondering why his presence made you feel comfortable enough to say things you'd never tell anyone else.
Perhaps it's because it's just the two of you.
Perhaps it's the early morning.
Or perhaps that's just the effect that Lewis has on you.
He nods as he digests your words, "So you do what you're scared of despite the fear, that’s pretty brave you know. I'm here because once people know I'm awake my life is full of noise, full of schedules and training and sometimes I need a break, without offending anyone."
"So you can be Lewis and not Lewis Hamilton?" You ask.
"Yeah exactly." He says, his eyes might as well have been looking right into your very soul.
It was probably for the best that his phone started ringing. "Toto." He says as he glances at the screen.
"Time to go be Lewis Hamilton." You say softly.
"I'll see you tomorrow? " He asks as he stands up before answering his phone.
"See you then."
It had been that simple.
You and Lewis and met you every morning of a Grand Prix for months.
You had told him about the burnout you had at your corporate job and how George had come to your rescue and wanted you to travel with him for a year, seeing as you had taken extra part-time jobs for years to help fund his karting career.
About how your dream was to be a published writer and so while everyone timed laps, you were timing story pace. How you were very happy to let George take the limelight and had your pen name chosen.
He told you how claustrophobic life could be like for him. How he missed his family and normal life sometimes. How he felt such pressure on his shoulders. How hungry he was for another world championship.
The two of you, being each others’ rock for a while every time the storms of the Grand Prix hit. It felt like a special little bubble.
Until it burst.
**********************
You have a skip in your step as you enter the catering area, you had come up with the resolution of a plot twist that had been annoying you and can’t wait to tell Lewis about it.
But Lewis isn't at his, your, usual table.
You stop before telling yourself he must be running late and get your coffee.
And wait.
You even send him a text to see if he's okay. You had long since swapped numbers, you delighted when your little bubble extended to everyday life as you sent him driving memes and he sent you pictures of Roscoe.
You know he had had a bad qualifying but that had never stopped him turning up before. He doesn't even read the message and you sit there until your coffee turns cold.
It was only worse later on in the day when your heart was practically flooded with ice when Lewis walked right past you in the Paddock, ignoring when you said hi and disappearing into the crowd.
He knew you hid from the media, wearing a peak cap at all times and never speaking to many people at a Grand Prix so as not to draw attention to yourself. So the mere act of saying hello to him was a big deal.
And now you were left standing in the middle of the chaos watching as Lewis Hamilton walked away and you wondered where the hell your Lewis had gone.
You had kept your meetups as a sweet secret just for the two of you. Now you wished you had yelled it from the rooftops just so that someone else knew about it and so you know it wasn't all a dream.
The next time you got close to him was when he was going for the drivers parade and you called to him.
He reached up and put his sunglasses down over his eyes and walked by you like you were just another person of the omnipresent crowd around him.
You go straight to George. He looks up from some stats he's looking over and frowns when he sees your face. "What's wrong?" Your little brother knows you well.
"Nothing. It's just…has Lewis been acting differently with you today?"
He seems to ponder it, "No but…"
"But what Georgie?"
"Is there something going on between you and Lewis?"
"What?"
"I just heard some rumors. You were seen together and you know how the gossip rumor works, you’re practically married by now." He shrugs.
"There's nothing happening. I just thought we were friends." You admit. "He's been off with me today."
"I'm sure it's not on purpose, Lewis is a good guy." He huffs then and crosses his arms, "But if something happens I'm going to have to have a talk with him."
You roll your eyes with a laugh, "You don't have to protect me Georgie."
Someone called George from inside the garage and your talk was cut short. You could do nothing but go along with the flow as the race set up and the lights went out.You felt a headache coming on. It just worsened as you watched the race, trying to pretend to be normal.
Trying to pretend that Lewis hadn't hurt you. Trying to pretend that you hadn't given Lewis your heart over the past few months and he may as well have driven his car over it.
*******************
As the race trundled on, you wondered when exactly you had fallen in love with Lewis. The realisation hit you as hard as a car hitting the wall on a street circuit.
You had fallen in love with his smile, his way of thinking, his values, his terrible dad jokes, his very soul.
He had once told you that you were brave. So you mustered all you could, shoved your anxiety back down your throat and stalked across the garage post race like a woman on a mission.
You didn't care who saw you. You didn't care if everyone posted it on every social media platform.
You followed Lewis into his trailer, jumping up the step and stopping the door closing behind him.
He looks at you as you close the door behind you, sweat stuck to his skin and his breath still slightly laboured from the race.
"What is going on?" You ask, trying to get his attention as he looks out the window of his trailer before shutting the blinds. "What are you doing?" You ask, completely bewildered.
It was like all your nightmares coming true.
Was he ashamed to be seen with you?
"What are you doing here?" He asks, his voice hard.
"What is going on Lewis? I thought we were friends." You fire back as gruffly.
His eyes soften, "Of course we are."
"Then what the hell is happening?"
"What's happening is that people have found out we hang out."
"So you don't want anyone to know that you know me?" Your stomach churned at the thought of being some dirty secret for him.
"No I don't." He says, then his armor falls away, "Because then you would be sucked into my media storm and you don't deserve that. It's better if we keep a distance."
"You didn't want to tell me any of this?" You wonder aloud.
"Because people change when they have a chance at fame."
"And you thought that of me?" You hated that your voice broke over his lack of trust in you.
"No. Not for a second. But you don't want this. You hate fame. You want a quiet life and I can't give you that." His voice was strained. "So it's...."
"Better to keep our distance, apparently?" You tossed his words back to him.
He nods, "Because it hit me, if I spend much more time with you, I won't ever want to let you go, and you won't want to stay amidst the chaos."
He stole the air right out of your lungs.
"I like you. I’ve started to look forward more to seeing you than the races at weekends." He says, "And I don't want to keep hold of you if you don’t any of this, so I'm letting you go before this gets...,"
"Lewis." You say, your voice practically strangled by emotion. "I'm not going anywhere."
The air became heavy, your heart started racing as if it had been given a jump by DRS.
"I didn't mean to hurt you. I figured you're better off without me and the crazy rumours." He says.
You don't know where you find the courage to take a step towards him. "What if they're not rumors anymore?"
He gently encircles one of your wrists with his hand, ghosting his thumb over your pulse point.
“You’re right. I don’t like the limelight, I’m shy and quiet and I don’t care about Formula 1 further than you and George love it. I don’t care about any of it, Lewis. I don't want you for your fame. I care about you. I want you."
He lifts your hand so it's placed on his shoulder, you dig you fingers into his race suit immediately as if you plan to hold onto him for dear life.
“I thought it would hurt you more, all of this.” He admits. “And I never want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t push me away.” You tell him, “I know my own mind and I want to be here.”
He does exactly as you ask as he moves an arm around your waist and takes the final step towards you. He leans down, his mouth ghosting over yours, giving you another chance to back out, to run a mile.
So you lean in the rest of the way.
The world rearranges itself so there’s nothing but Lewis, how he tastes, how he feels, as he pulls you fully against him.
If this is the exhilaration of driving a Formula 1 car, you really can’t blame Lewis for loving it so much.
It was Toto Wolff of all people who barged in and interrupted the best damn kiss of your life. You pulled away but Lewis kept his hand on your back.
“Ah.” He says in usual straight talking manner. “This is why you’re so happy at our morning meetings lately.”
#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton x reader#f1blr#f1 fluff#fl#formula 1#george russell#paddock#paddock gossip#blurb#long blurb
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Milgram & Ghost Stories Dub
Kotoko’s Deep Cover is going to drop, so we are going to need all the chuckles we can get. These may not be the most infamous, but they are from the Ghost Stories dub (albeit with some tweaks). Please enjoy these incorrect quotes.
Jackalope: “You four are the ugliest fucking prisoners I’ve ever had the misfortune of laying my eyes on. I can’t wait for this bitch to kill you.”
Es: “Wow. That is some really nice animation.”
Haruka: “Pardon me! I really enjoyed running with you today. Don’t you have any money for shoes? Did the Crips beat you up and take your shoes too? They took mine and now Kazui only buys me cheap ones from Payless.”
Yuno: “Sentimental flashback time is over you stupid, bunny-loving bitch!”
Fuuta: “Don’t you look at me with those hepatitis eyes!”
Muu: “Haruka! Have you done your homework yet? Oh wait, you’re dyslexic. Done your yet homework have you? You hey I’m answer hey talking me too.”
Shidou: “I have such fond memories of that hospital. It’s a lovely place of healing, except for those who die.”
Mahiru: “OOH! Shirotabi! All dead but you, it’s a miracle.”
Kazui: “Why are all my memories sepia tone?”
Amane: “Lord, reveal Your Salvation since I am your favorite among these heathens.”
Mikoto: “Looks like it’s just me and you, rabbit. Call me Jackalope! Okay fine. Looks like it’s just me and you Jackalope… I’m going fucking crazy.”
John: “Doesn’t work. I used an Ouija board once to contact a dead hooker I saw on the news and she didn’t show up. Bitch.”
Kotoko: “Maybe we should arm the rabbits with little guns.”
Kotoko: “Fuuta! Get your ass down here!”
Fuuta: “What?”
Kotoko: “Don’t you ‘what’ me when I call you! You say ‘Yes ma’am!’”
Fuuta: muttering “You’re such a bitch.”
Kotoko: “What did you say?”
Fuuta: “I have an itch.”
Fuuta: “They beat me up all the time! I don’t need another goddamn reason!”
Mikoto: “You watch your goddamn mouth!”
Es: “Kotoko? You don’t look so good?”
Jackalope: “RUN! She’s a ghost and a bitch!”
Yuno: “Nice ass.”
Mahiru: “Do not lust in your heart-Jesus, you’re right.”
Mikoto: “Hey, can you guys hear anything?”
Kotoko: “You know what I hear? I hear the sound of you shutting the fuck up.”
Mikoto: “Let’s see… seven?”
Kotoko: “What the FUCK are you talking about?”
Muu: “Kotoko?”
Haruka: cries
Muu: “I’m sure I’ll live a long, miserable life of heartbreak and alcoholism before a vigilante takes me out.”
Haruka: “If you’re lying, thank you.”
#milgram#milgram es#haruka sakurai#yuno kashiki#fuuta kajiyama#muu kusunoki#shidou kirisaki#mahiru shiina#kazui mukuhara#amane momose#mikoto kayano#kotoko yuzuriha#surprisingly I did not have to modify sentimental bunny loving bitch#it’s in the killer bunny episode as an actual line#shirotabi is the rabbit name#Mahiru needs to name her man
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it okay need help not bad thing should not be shamed
but same time want talk about just how annoying am need help every day with basic thing how many times don’t want need help just want be able do by self no other people
me situation, for example:
many thing, so private. like physical help get dressed n shower. even for me who don’t have many sense of what private, it still annoying not able get be alone need be with people all time and cannot be stopped that they start talking.
in fact when need help many bADLs, people around all time. am have hard time communicate, and easily overwhelm by people especially if by people long time no time by self. people talk, ask questions am not able to answer (especially frustrate if obviously cannot communicate like an use AAC full time and if hands full hands dirty or AAC not with literally cannot answer, but others reasons like have hard time communicate even if AAC), or talk about self tell story vent about frustrate ask advice etc etc. (some these topic not appropriate for most hired carer to tell you when they work if you no say yes but some don’t care just do anyway and others get care by people like parents)
other times they judge they give advice that not asked for they limit what you allow do make decisions for you. they have power over you because you need them you can’t leave you force stay force listen.
then question. why so many frustrate noises why so many “tantrums” why so many behavioral problems why so many meltdowns.
even if no talk, just presence of people can make overwhelm can add cognitive load.
most people most interaction, overwhelm and cognitive load. everytime meet people, need days by self to slowly stop be overwhelm, but when live with people live with help need help most things, that never possible.
if caregiver not familiar with your need. create more frustrate.
most people no true concept of how disability work. (yes this include what disabled community here complain as “overrepresented disabilities” like paraplegic & SCI etc). don’t realize how many detail come with. from everyday people to people who “work in” disability fields. even disabled people, not have all disabilities, not know all disabilities.
so many little detail. no do not walk infront of me in wheelchair or else will run into you. but yes need follow behind you can’t navigate on own. no do not ask me open end questions when i hand full can’t use AAC. no your “how far is far” “how long is long” very different from my disabled versions.
and. am communication disabled. all these thoughts n needs, trapped inside. no one can read mind. hard time explain hard time even start communicate.
even well meaning caregivers genuine try ask what need and no need help with so they know when help when no help, not infantize you or see you as super crip can do everything, perfect person perfect scenario—even that get frustrate get tiring.
but more frequently, will meet the assume normal until otherwise “you can’t do that??” or opposite assume can’t do anything can’t understand anything get surprised at able do any little thing.
even if know everything about disability (which, gosh would avoid so much headache), every disabled person need different, still need explain.
the get to know phase. so exhausting.
everything about me need care, exhausting. this only fraction.
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also the fact that someone said “ohh this also applies to queer people” on my post about compulsory abledness. lol. lmao even
“compulsory heterosexuality” is an established term. it’s used on this website a lot. sometimes incorrectly. but people broadly know what the concept means, or if they don’t, they at least know the related concept of “heteronormativity” or similar
and. compulsory abledness, compulsory dyadism, and compulsory saneness were all concepts that were adapted from work done in the sphere of queer theory. it’s just that the disability-related concepts haven’t had as much traction in broader society for a myriad of reasons (including ableism)
this is why I get frustrated at abled queers. queer theory is all over this website. crip theory isn’t. and as a political science scholar with a particular interest in crip theory, I’m trying to help change that. but first, we have to acknowledge that it’s okay for disabled people to just talk about ourselves for a bit
#disability#whatever#I’m disabled and I’m queer and I talk about both#but sometimes I JUST wanna talk about disability
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Not Mine
Andy Barber x WoC Reader
sometimes things are just for borrowing…unless you know what you want
warnings: smut, marriage talk, divorce talk, Minors DNI
sidenote: my reader is always thick but this can still be read by anyone. dont use my shit anywhere in any form. if you likes it, loves it, fucks with it then reblog and comment all that good shit!! Lots of love! I appreciate yall and the love 💚
this is the dress reader is wearing!
this is the short follow up aka blurb
X
X
The hot Boston sun poured through the large floor to ceiling windows. The windows allowed you to see out but not to be seen into, not that it mattered, she’d still be right here even if the whole firm was watching. Shit the fucking world could be watching and she asked if they had a good enough view.
“Look at how wet you are” the deep Boston accent made her eyes open to get a look down at herself, his long thick fingers pumping into her.
He was right, she was wet as a ocean.
Her eyes slowly drifted up to his. Andy Barber hot shit DA stood towering over her, his stormy ocean blue eyes boring into hers while she sat spread eagle on his desk, her legs bent at the knee and hovering in the air. Her legs burn from the position and lack of support but she’s be damned if she complained with how good he was fucking her. She felt herself clench around him as her body warmed, the action causing him to smirk. He knew she got flustered whenever her gave her that eye contact.
She broke the eye contact as her eyes screwed shut, the sensation of her orgasm creeping up on her. “Shit Andy I’m almost there”.
“I know girl, I know” He said in that voice that did something to her. It was almost degrading and she felt her stomach flip. Andy was the only one who had her into that shit. It wasn’t even something she knew she liked until Andy.
His hand grabbed her neck forcing her face to angle up toward his. They stood their watching each other as he finger fucked her. There was a certain intimacy to the moment that she tried to ignore. She could see something had changed in Andy’s eyes over the months they’d been fucking.
Honestly it was supposed to be just that. Fucking. Andy was a married man. Separated from his wife but married still, until they wrapped up divorce. If they ever did. She felt like it was taking forever, not that Andy made any false promises of them being together. She just didn’t know how long she could fuck with him if he stayed married any much longer. It has already been 8 months.
Andy didn’t talk much about it and she hardly asked. She only brought it up every once in a while. A status check she’d say. Andy always had the same answer, he was still waiting on Lorie to sign.
She didn’t care what people thought about her, but she did know their “arrangement”, if anyone ever found out could be used against him and labeled a affair and in turn effect his job. Even if they didn’t start talking until they had separated and Lorie was in the process of filing.
Though she wanted this to strictly be fucking only, she didn’t want anything to ruin what Andy had worked so hard for or for people to view him negatively.
Andy would say he didn’t care, but she felt like that was his dick talking.
The rough hand around her neck tighten before her upper body was yanked forward. Her hands flew to his chest, her fingers digging into his crips white button down. Andy fingers withdrew quickly before landing 2 quick smacks to her wet pussy.
YN yelped as her body jerked.
“Oh shit Andy please” she moaned out, tears running down her face as he drove his fingers back into her. She was so close.
“Eyes” He demanded.
Her shot open at his tone and held his.
“You like knowing someone could walk in at any moment don’t you” he asked as her back arched off the desk and she grinding down on his hand. “That’s why your fucking soaking my hand baby, pussy dripping because you want someone to see you on my deck spread wide the fuck open for me, taking whatever I’ll give your greedy little pussy”.
Oh fuck him, he knew just what to say and just how to fuck her to give her unrivaled pleasure.
“Daddy” she groaned loudly as her orgasm hurdled into her. Andy watched as her eyes rolled back, her body jerked and shook on his fingers and desk. Her candy sweet slick dripping down his hand even more as the sound of her wet cunt bounced off his office walls.
He continued his assault on her swollen cunt as he stepped forward, helping her ride out her high. He pressed his heavy body into hers to help her come down from her orgasmic state.
Her face cuddled into his neck as his lips sucked on her shoulder, before leading up to her neck, anywhere he could reach.
Her breathing was starting to steady slowly.
“Damn Andy” was the only thing she could say as she started to catch her breathe. The attorney chuckled deeply as he pulled his fingers form her.
Her eyes opened just in time to see him sucking his fingers, before he pushed them into her own mouth. She sucked as she eyed him.
“Damn YN”
They both laughed before Andy pulled her into a deep passionate kiss. Her brown legs wrapped around him as her fingers gripped his shirt tighter.
Once her short summer dressed was pulled down the furtherest it would go, Andy gave her ass a final smack before running his hand up her body.
“Where were you off to before I convinced you to come by?” Andy asked causing YN to giggle.
“I’m running a little late but to meet my girls for lunch, it’s just a few block from here”
“Hmmm. So after girl time-“
“Andy your wife is here” Andy’s assistant could be heard in the office through the loud speaker. He huffed as YN slightly pulled away. “Sorry I meant Lorie” she corrected herself.
“So later?-“
“Andy”
YN and Andy turned to the voice. They were no longer touching but still pretty close. Lorie stood by the door watching them.
“Thank you for your time Mr. Barber, you really are the best in the city” YN said slightly disappointed by Lorie’s disturbance. “I’ll let you speak with Lorie”.
Andy cringed before a quick hand ran down his face. He didn’t want her to leave like this and he need Lorie’s shit right now. Unless it was about Jacob or the divorce papers he didn’t want to hear what she had to say.
YN turned on her wedges and walked toward the door, she was just passing Lorie when she spoke. YN steps came to a slow pace as she turned to Lorie not catching what she said.
“Lorie-“
“Mrs. Barber” Lorie curtly corrected YN, while cutting off Andy.
YN stood staring down at the woman, was she serious? She was going to try and play wife now? Heat started to swarm within YN’s body.
She looked between Andy who was about to speak and back to Lorie. His not yours she told herself. As much as she wanted to cuss Lorie the fuck out the reality was Andy wasn’t hers. He wasn’t Lorie’s either but she was technically his wife.
She kept her face unfazed as she took one gaze at Andy before turning to leave. His not yours.
x
x
🥴
i wrote a little extra blurb for this, kinda like a different ending, if yall want it let me know and I’ll follow up with it!
also this is the visual for yn and andy and also the visual i was inspired by.
#Andy barber#andy barber smut#andy barber fanfiction#andy barber x reader#andy barber x black!reader#andy barber angst#andy barber x you#Andy barber x woc reader#Andy barber x yn#Chris evans#chris evans characters#chris evans fanfiction#chris Evans x reader#chris Evans x you#chris Evans x yn#ughwrites#chris Evans smut
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About Me
name: hyacinth
age: 18
pronouns: he/they
identities: queer, t4t, transsexual, disabled, autistic, mad, part time wheelchair user, etc.
Before You Follow
- if anything makes you uncomfortable, you welcome to block me, no hard feelings. if we’re already friendly, please just give me a heads up.
- this is a blog for personal posts. this includes life events, fandom rambles, creative work, reblogs of things i like, and more.
- this blog may contain mature content. minors can interact, but should use discretion.
- i am a leftist and open about it. don’t come here to debate me or harass me, you will be blocked. right wing opinions are not tolerated here.
- i don’t have an interest in ship discourse, and i don’t believe in harassing anyone over fiction. however, i will block anyone who creates content i am uncomfortable with and don’t want to see.
- i don’t have an interest in system or queer discourse either. i just don’t care that much, and if you have an opinion i am truly uncomfortable with, i will block you.
Specific BYF
- i use words that are considered derogatory or slurs for myself, including transsexual, mad, and cripple/crip. i will not stop using these to make myself more palatable or “less offensive.”
- i’m part of a trauma based system. we usually present as a singlet but they may most on this blog as themselves if they feel so inclined. please don’t ask to talk to someone, they will talk to you if they would like to do so.
- in regards to kaeya and diluc specifically, i enjoy depictions of them as brothers or as lovers. however i do not enjoy these depictions at the same time.
- i see the traveller and several “minor coded” characters (bennett, freminet, etc.) as adults. i don’t see characters such as klee, nahida, and diona as adults.
Important Posts
additional important posts will be linked here.
Personal Tags
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I posted 198 times in 2022
That's 179 more posts than 2021!
102 posts created (52%)
96 posts reblogged (48%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@so-youre-unattached-like-me
@whoopsitswhump
@some-weird-queer-writer (apparently I reblogged my own posts a lot??)
@tylovesmushrooms
@musingsofmyown
I tagged 145 of my posts in 2022
Only 27% of my posts had no tags
#fanfic - 36 posts
#ao3 - 26 posts
#spn - 21 posts
#supernatural - 19 posts
#fanfiction - 18 posts
#mcu - 17 posts
#writing - 16 posts
#peter parker - 14 posts
#marvel - 12 posts
#johnlock - 11 posts
Longest Tag: 109 characters
#yes i did write this because i am sick in bed and just want to be in the woods with my partner don't judge me
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Coming Out Pt 1
Can be found on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36011365
No TWs, hidden for space because I know it bugs me
“Hey, Sammy?” Dean asked hesitantly.
“Yeah?” his brother answered, turning around from the kitchen where he was cooking.
“I gotta tell you something…”
“Yeah, you only stand like that when you do,” he responded, putting down his spatula. “What is it?”
“Uh… well, you probably know…”
“Depends on what it is,” Sam said, starting to get nervous. “Dean, are you alright?”
“I will be once I get this out. Why… why don’t we sit down? You want to grab a beer?”
“Dean it is 10 in the morning,” he sighed, sitting down.
Dean awkwardly fidgeted in his seat.
“Dude, the longer you sit here, the more awkward you’re gonna get about it. Spit it out.”
“Iambisexualandbiromanticandinarelationshipwithcas,” Dean said in a blur.
“I caught one word of that which was ‘Cas’ so do you want me to take a stab or do you want to try again?”
Dean took a deep breath in and tried again.
“I am bisexual -” his voice hitched and he studied his brother’s face closely “- and biromantic and in a relationship with Cas.”
“Yeah dumbo I know, so go on,” Sam responded kindly.
Dean blinked.
“Wh… what?”
“I know you’re bisexual and I know you’re with Cas, I thought you knew that!”
“And you… you’re okay with that?”
“Dude, of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You… you don’t think it’s weird?”
“Come here you jerk,” Sam said, standing up and opening his arms for a hug.
“Bitch,” Dean responded automatically, shyly standing up and hugging his brother.
“FINALLY!” a voice cried, startling them into spinning around and into a fighting pose.
Castiel stood in the doorway, smiling. Dean walked over to him and kissed him happily.
“Congrats, you two,” Sam smiled.
“Thanks Sammy,” Dean smiled, taking Cas’s hand and walking to the living room.
See the full post
12 notes - Posted January 8, 2022
#4
I would like to boast my ability to find the gay ships without being in a fandom thank you very much
18 notes - Posted May 29, 2022
#3
Monica and Darcy slow-burn romance where Darcy falls head-over-heels in love and Monica is really slow in figuring it out, narrated by Carol Danvers and Jimmy Woo
22 notes - Posted June 21, 2022
#2
I am doing a project on disability pride! Please read and give me a hand!
Hello there!
I am disabled and have decided to do an extensive project about disability pride (what it is, the history of it, why it matters, as well as how the ADA impacts it and am going to use a large university near me to talk about it).
If you have any websites, creators, books, topics, quotes, or would like to tell me about your experience with being disabled and your disabled pride, I am begging you, reblog this and respond.
My school is not the best about disability pride (for example my teacher is not putting my topic down as disability pride, instead writing disability activism), so I’m excited to write about this.
Anything you can give, suggest, or say is greatly appreciated.
Please give a fellow proud crip a hand and help me show my school and hopefully others about the world we live in and how we can be proud of our bodies that may not work properly.
Have a great day!
(tags that I hope are okay with me tagging them: @crpplpnk @disabled-dragoon please add on, those are the few in my orbit that maybe could reblog to help me spread this?)
24 notes - Posted September 18, 2022
My #1 post of 2022 - of course it is, I don't know how this one got so popular but it did
Wanting advice on how to write a Jewish funeral
Hello!
I’m writing a story and in the name of simple representation have decided to make the character Jewish. This is not a huge part of the story at all but I’m writing his funeral and I was wondering what traditional Jewish funerals look like?
I did some research and this is what I found about a gravesite funeral:
The casket is brought to the grave
Prayer recital and lowering of casket
Graveside ceremony and prayers
The Mourner’s Kaddish (a memorial prayer)
Covering the casket with earth (dirt)
I was wondering how accurate this was? It’s not a huge thing but I want it to be there and accurate :)
Specific questions
Do people carry the casket to the grave or is it rolled there/does it not really matter?
What do others wear?
Are gifts/presents given to the person/family?
How many people would be part of the avelim? Would a very close partner be included or a best friend?
How many people would participate in the burying?
Thanks so much!
EDIT: Woah did not expect this many responses! Thank you so much! I finished the first version of the fanfic, but I might redo and lengthen all of it to include more details. Um, I guess I should come clean here and say that yeah, this fanfic is a Peter Parker dying fanfiction?? It’s called Spiders and Stones on AO3 if anyone wants to read it, chapter 3 is the one with the funeral. So yeah, y’all really helped with that, thank you so much!!
589 notes - Posted May 31, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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Death
Death was nothing new in Marinette’s life. In fact it played a large role. Her friends and city had died a hundred times over. Her brother. Her funny, smart, loving, dramatic brother had died at the hands of a mad man. She didn’t think it was wrong for her to use the horse miraculous to visit her brother's grave. It was officially five years after all. He would be 20, he would have loved to plan out her 16th birthday this year. She sat down and read Pride and Prejudice out loud, only a few tears falling as she glanced at the grave every so often. She had also brought a bouquet of white lilies, statices, red carnations, and white daisies. Soft grass laid over the dirt, the sun gleamed above, and sometimes when she would lean against the grave it was almost like she could feel him.
Dark storm clouds began to cloud the sky, and she knew she would have to leave soon, though she didn’t want to. Dad would be upset if he caught her, though considering how many weeds she had to remove from the grave and how abandoned it looked, she doubted anyone had visited any time soon. Suddenly the rain began to pour down and it felt like the earth shook. She felt a great imbalance, but where, and how? She touched both of her ears and she could feel her miraculous still there, Tikki even poked her head out from her bag with a look of fear. A shiver ran down Marinette’s spine as rain came pouring down soaking everything in sight. She looked around, and she kept spinning searching for something, anything that could have caused or been affected by the imbalance. She waited there for many minutes just waiting, when she felt the dirt beneath her feet begin to shift a little. She quickly moved away and watched as the dirt slowly moved and shifted. She felt sick, because the dirt moving was directly where Jason was lying in eternal rest. This couldn’t be right, this must be some mistake! Her brother had died, she had seen the body, it haunted her nightmares for so many nights. He’s been gone for five years! This can’t be possible without some type of wish.
The grass began to move and shift away, and a fleshy mud covered hand raised from the ground causing a scream to rip from her lungs. Her body sprung into action before her mind caught up to her beginning to help dig up her brother's grave, and when she saw the jet black hair covered in dirt and mud she knew that it was him. She heaved him out from the hole and stared in shocked horror as he just sat there staring at her. His eyes were the same blue she remembered, but they were so clouded. Fear, confusion, and nothing shown in his eyes, like he wasn’t even truly there. This must be a dream, it has to be, no, a nightmare. Her brother shouldn’t be back, he died, she saw his limp body in dad’s hands, even if Alfred and bluebird tried to stop her. But the imbalance was real, she could tell, and he was affected by it.
Slowly she raised her hand and hesitantly placed a hand on his cheek. He leaned into her hand, though his eyes were still clouded and void. He may be alive, but he wasn’t fully…alive. She tackled her older brother into a hug and began sobbing onto him, but just sat there, head leaning against hers. Pressing her ear against his chest she could hear his gentle heartbeat, and just for a moment everything seemed like it would be ok. Then she felt a sharp prick in her neck and the world faded to black.
________
Marinette awoke to darkness. She tried to sit up and felt her hands held behind her back being held together by something cold and thick. Memories flooded back into her mind and she snapped into awareness and looked around. It was dark, though there was a small light coming from a window far above where she could not ever reach. The walls seemed to be made of thick stones and there was a heavy iron door a few feet in front of her. Jason wasn’t there though, he wasn’t in the room, she didn’t understand. Suddenly the door opened and she looked up and saw her mother’s green eyes. Her panic grew again, how did she get here, was she captured too? She had visited her often in Paris. She was very vague about her job, and she knew it was probably sketchy, but could it be bad enough to be captured?
“Marinette, My Darling. I apologize for your treatment, I did not realize that you were part of this.”
Talia rushed towards her daughter and unlocked the chains. She was pulled into a tight hug that Marinette quickly returned. After a few moments she pulled away but held her shoulders gently.
“I must show you something, come.”
Talia quickly stood and helped her daughter to her feet and walked swiftly through the calls of Nanda Parabat.
“What is mom?”
Talia smiled at that, she had always loved when her daughter called her that.
“It’s a surprise, My Flower.”
A few more twists though hallways and they stopped in front of a thick wooden door.
“I want you to meet someone.”
The door was pushed open and there sat a small baby in a crip with dark black hair, tanned skin, and dark green eyes. Marinette gasped and covered her mouth,
“Meet your brother, Damian.”
Marinette slowly walked over and stared at Damian through the top of the crib. He silently watched and studied her without making a sound.
“He’s about 3 months old.”
Talia said, smiling happily as she watched her daughter run her fingers through Damian’s small tresses of hair. With a snap of her finger one of her shadows stepped next to her.
“Bring Jason.”
And with that order they were gone returning a few minutes later with a boy who was alive physically, but was mentally gone. She could fix that though, it would be the last resort if all else failed, but she could fix it. Marinette looked up when she heard Jason’s footsteps and her bright smile fell slightly into a small sad one.
“Jay-Jay.”
She whispered softly as she took slow steps towards the boy. She quickly ran and hugged him again. He no longer smelled like mud and he wasn’t wearing his suit, and he was….he was alive again! Tears fell down her cheeks, because she missed him so much.
________
Marinette stayed with her mom in what she learned was Nanda Parabat. She trained with Jason, but he was catatonic, just going through the motions blankly. It worried her, especially as she watched her mother grow more anxious. She cared for her little brother, and wondered if her dad knew, or if he would even care. She often looked at Paris news for when she needed to go for Akuma attacks, but if her host parents even realized she was gone. They hadn’t, nor had any of her “friends” apparently as they hadn’t sent her a single thing from the weeks she’s been gone.
Marinette knew that Nada Parabat wasn’t a good place, knew that the people were bad, knew that her grandfather was the head of it. He didn’t seem to care who she was, he just thought she was some nurse for Damian, and she was thankful for that. She knew that the Lazarus Pits were here, what they did, how they were made, how her grandfather used them for selfish purposes. She didn’t do anything though, she was mad at her father for sending her away, mad that he adopted a bee kid only a year after he sent her away, mad that he never talked to her, mad that Dick never fought for her or looked for her, mad that Jason was forced to wake up and climb his way out of his grave only to be practically brain dead, mad that her classmates believed lies over her, mad that her host parents believed them and treated her like dirt or an invisible object meant to seen and not heard, mad that Chat Noir would leave her during battles because she didn’t return his affections, and mad that no one cared that she was gone! So she trained as hard as she could, made sure that she perfected everything her mother threw at her. Took care of her family and made sure they knew how thankful she was for them and loved them. Then when she finally got a text from someone it was insults for being a horrible person and hurting Lila when she hadn’t been there for weeks!
She threw her phone at the wall and the crack echoed around the room. Her breathing was harsh and ragged and then the tears she had been holding back finally fell. Sobs wracked her body as she bit her lip to keep silent. She tried to take in deep shuddering breaths, but it was no use and the sobs came out. Her knees felt weak and she crumpled to the ground. The door burst open and she saw her mom there knife in hand looking around the room with swift deadly eyes. When she didn’t see any visible threats she kneeled in front of her daughter and looked directly into her eyes. Eyes a storming blue that flooded with tears and made her heart ache and her want to murder whoever made her precious daughter look so broken.
“My Flower, what’s wrong?”
“N-nobody cares ab-about me! No one cares that I’m g-gone. Everyb-body hates me, and I’m so tired of it! I’ll n-never be enough for an-anybody and I’m t-trying so h-hard to do wh-what everyone needs or exp-ects me to be!”
Marinette stuttered out between sobs. Talia glared at that and felt anger at Bruce. She thought that he at least checked in with her every once in a while. She had guessed wrong then. She pulled her daughter into a hug and let her cry against her shoulder.
“Shh, shh. It’s okay. You are perfect the way you are Marinette. You don’t have to prove anything to me. You’re such a good sister, you train so hard, and you have so many amazing skills and talents. You are enough, don’t let anyone say anything different.”
Marinette gripped onto her mom and they both just sat there in silence as Marinette finally just cried. After who knows how long Marinette gently pushed away and looked her mom directly in the eyes with complete seriousness said,
“I want you to help me fake my death. If everyone wants to pretend I’m gone or wants me to disappear, then fine. I will. I don’t want to be seen anymore.”
Talia stared at her daughter in shock for a moment then gave her a small smile.
“It will be done my dear, you will be free.”
“Thank you mom.”
Taglist:
@queenz-z @aespades @fandomsaremylifeline @stainedglassm @toodaloo-kangaroo @prettylittlebutterflie @trippingovermyfeet @liquid-luck-00 @unoriginalmess @buginetye @miraculouslydumb @laurcad123
#maribat#BDBWM2021#marinette dupain cheng#marinette al ghul wayne#talia sugar#class salt#tom and sabine salt#day 13#death#sibling au#sibling jasonette#sibling daminette#damian is a baby#angst#fluff
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Blind/Visually Impaired Person’s Review Of ‘The Blind Bandit’
It is here! At almost 6 thousand words (I have a problem lol). This is a review of season 2, episode 6 in Avatar: the Last Airbender. The episode is called The Blind Bandit.
Note that this is only a review of the portrayal of blindness rather than the episode or show itself. This show also has audio descriptions on Netflix so any blind followers of mine can watch the show if the want to. I would also like to make it clear that this is my opinion. It is my no means lacking in bias and I won’t pretend that it is. I love this character for some of the reasons I will explain here, and that will show even as I consider criticisms of her or things that simply could have been better.
This character, Toph, was my first exposure to a blind character in television.
CHARACTER INTRO:
“Your champion, The Blind Bandit!”
We first hear Toph introduced as The Blind Bandit. She is described as having pale eyes which is usually how eye conditions are conveyed visually. Some online sources describe them as light grey or sea form green, but glazed over. This could be due to cataracts or some other deterioration. Part of me wants to mention that not all blind people have eyes like this. Most don’t; I don’t. However, blind people can have many eye problems outside of just The Blindness, so it isn’t inaccurate either, especially for a time period where eye surgeries are not available, and Waterbenders are not as easy to reach for healings as they may have been before the war. I also suspect her family would not care about cataracts if Toph was not in pain— their main issue would be her blindness. I’m getting ahead of myself.
The point is, I don’t mind the way her eyes are portrayed here. I do think non-blind people are too obsessed with portraying eyes like this, however, and I feel like it is not necessary in non-visual media unless you have established why their eyes are cloudy/lighter/Like That other than Because Blind. I’m happy they didn’t fall into the trap of portraying her eyes as constantly closed.
I also read somewhere that the creators tried not to move her eyes much. I don’t know how true this goal was, but I feel it is not entirely necessary. Blind people can also have uncontrollable eye movements or rapid eye movements. This might be too hard to animate and too confusing for viewers. Therefore, I feel the creators chose a more practical portrayal of eye movements that is the easiest to animate and least confusing for people who may not know blind eyes can and do move, whether due a condition or other factors.
“She can’t really be blind, can she?”
I like that everyone says “blind” without stumbling over it or treating it as a bad word. Katara is surprised and Aang is accepting, feeling hopeful that this girl could at last be his teacher. I even like that she chose to capitalize on it for her persona. Already we can tell Toph has no issue with being blind, nor does she feel the need to hide it in such a setting as this. She is already the champion— it must be working for her. It is this openness and acceptance of blindness that I like, especially from the main character. Rather than make her hide her blindness or angst over something she has lived with all her life, the writers just introduced it as fact. She’s blind and she’s a champion. That is how we meet Toph.
“Sounds to me like you’re scared, Boulder!”
Trash talk. She’s trash talking him. If the champion thing was not an indication that this wasn’t your stereotypical innocent, blind flower, her first line should be! Already Toph is brash and fearless. A far cry from the angelic stereotype we often get in the media.
“Your winner, and still the champion, The Blind Bandit!”
Toph kicks Boulder Butt. Pretty easily. I loved every second of it.
Now let’s talk about the Super Crip trope here.
IS TOPH A SUPERCRIP?
The Supercrip trope is a bit hard to pin down. I found a few definitions floating around. This link has two: Trope: SuperCrip | #CriticalAxis: a community driven project from The Disabled List
The Supercrip is seen as having “overcome” their disability in order to do normal things or even extraordinary things— with a focus on their disability rather than their accomplishments.
The first part is avoided. The narrative doesn’t focus on how extra special it is that Toph is doing things like: walking, talking, eating soup, sitting with her family, yelling at Aang and his friends, etc. Toph is not seen as extra special for doing normal things that her disability does not make more difficult. Not only would this be patronizing and ignorant, this would reflect that attitudes many real life strangers have: disabled people are so strange and mystical to some people that they feel the need to ask blind people on the street how they walk or talk.
Personally, I find this portrayal of disabled people to be the most harmful. It caters to able-bodied onlookers alone and offers nothing for disabled people. To clarify: the problem is not portraying disabled people/characters doing normal things! The problem is expecting your audience to feel inspired because a disabled person did a thing that is completely ordinary for them.
This does not apply to Toph.
Another definition is that a disabled person is portrayed as “overcoming” their disability in order to do something cool/big, usually something able-bodied people don’t do everyday. This disabled person is only noteworthy because they did something extraordinary such as win several gold medals. This presents two problems: 1) it is hard for disabled people to meet these expectations, especially when this is shown as the only positive way to live with a disability. And 2) able-bodied people see this and believe all disabled people must be winning gold medals or doing super extraordinary things because their disability somehow gives them privilege, pity-points, or superhuman powers that make up for their disability. An example of these powers would be the myth that blind people have superhuman hearing rather than simply using their hearing more than sighted people and thus being more attuned to sound. An example of pity-points would be the time my family was watching Dancing With the Stars featuring a blind contestant. After the dance, someone remarked that the contestant would probably get sympathy points and go on to the next round. Her talent was not a factor the same way it was for the able-bodied contestants; pity-points could not be separated from her success. It was impossible that she would be supported and judged the same way as the others, with her blindness being only an extra factor that might make copying a dance to learn it more challenging for her. Keep in mind, these ideas are so ingrained in people that my own family believed it in even when they know me and several of my blind friends.
Let’s consider Tooh:
Pity-Points?
- Not even a factor. This was not brought up by Aang, nor Katara, nor Sokka. It was certainly not thought of by the owner of the battle ring nor Toph’s opponents. In fact, she was only doubted when she lost. Her talent was never viewed as the result of someone else’s pity or reduced to inspiration for an able-bodied wrestling audience. The announcer says her name and nothing else. Her parents don’t bring up the idea that Toph only wins because she was pitied either. They witnessed her bending and only believed they needed to protect her more, not that she was not talented.
Privilege?
- It is no question that Tooh’s family is rich. It is hard to say how much that affects her here. She has a tutor who undermines her growth and is pretty much useless. She has protection she doesn’t want and riches she doesn’t seem to use. She does have more free time to battle as a result of her riches, not having to work at a young age (although her parents probably would not have let her even if they needed the money). Toph’s family status could have been seen as playing a role in her winning— if her parents allowed the world to know about her.
- It is no secret that Toph is rich, however, when privilege is brought up by able-bodied people, they don’t usually mean riches (although the stereotypical rich disabled person is something I could discuss at a later time). They usually mean some combination of government benefits that may or may not exist and pity points. Disability makes things HARDER, not easier. A person can have multiple privileges they did not earn, or lack of privileges they did not ask for. Toph does not gain special privileges due to her disability, nor does she ask for or expect them. My opinion is that no one asks for this, anyway.
Super-human?
- This one is a little trickier. It is the one people are obviously hung up on when they consider Toph. It is difficult to consider this without considering Toph’s entire arc. However, I have chosen to focus on her bending and “sight” and how it is used in this episode. I may talk about this more if I do other reviews. - First, bending. Toph is not the only bender in the series. She is also not the only good bender, as Katara is also someone who grows into her bending and becomes particularly powerful. Aang is already a master of airbending in addition to being the Avatar. He is special and particularly powerful, mastering water quickly. Azula is also said to be a prodigy and has mastered lightning at 14. The point is, Toph is a powerful bender. She is not the only powerful bender in the world. The Avatar needs someone to teach him and that person would, reasonably, have mastered their bending in order to teach the Avatar. - Now for Toph’s bending in relation to her blindness. It is true that Toph is powerful AND blind— is she powerful in spite of being blind? Is she powerful because her blindness gives her superpowers? This is tricky. To me, the narrative doesn’t go out of its way to say “she overcame her blindness and was able to win”. It also doesn’t show blindness as a superpower, such as causing superior hearing. - How is it portrayed then? First, Toph never has to “overcome” her blindness, which is important. The obstacle is the limitations placed on her. The obstacle is society, not her disability. Toph does not need to accept her blindness before doing anything, because she has been blind since birth. She does not have to overcome her blindness before fighting or becoming a champion because when we are introduced to her, she already was. She is not expected to overcome her disability in order to teach Aang; he tries to recruit her without seeing her disability as an issue. She does not need overcome her disability because it is not what stops her, as is the case for most people. There are some things being blind makes difficult, different, or impossible to do, but this isn’t one of them. Blind people can learn to fight. They can win. And when people reduce such accomplishments as “overcoming disability”, it can feel like a misdirection, like a dismissal of hard work and talent.
This does not happen with Toph.
Second, does Toph’s blindness give her superpowers? Maybe. I feel like it might be necessary to cover Toph in other episodes. However, this review is focusing mostly on The Blind Bandit and so I will focus on Toph’s unique “sight”. Toph’s bending is unique from others because she can feel the vibrations in the ground, allowing her to sense objects and people. This ability allows her to fight and beat others. In my opinion, this is more of an adaptation perfected through sheer amount of practice. Katara and Zuko don’t always bend. Toph is using her bending constantly. Of course she would be good at it. Her bending is a tool for her use. Fighting? That’s just a bonus, a hobby.
Toph also has weaknesses and is in fact beaten by Aang, who wasn’t even trying. Losing to someone who had no intention of winning is a pretty big deal.
Personally, I don’t think Toph is a supercrip in this episode. She is a Blind Seer, a trope popular in literature. The Blind Seer can’t see physically, but they can see in other ways you can’t. I don’t have an issue with this trope and think it can be used in cool ways, especially if the blind character isn’t the only one with a superpower.
I do, however, want people to question why a blind character always needs to have a power that relates to or makes up for their lack of sight in some way. Unless you are making a deliberate allusion to something or a blind is not the only one with sight-related powers, I ask writers to question why they jump to sight-related powers in the first place. Or powers related to hearing, something to “make up for” their lack of sight.
Can this be done well? Absolutely. Toph, while she can fall into both The Blind Seer and the Supercrip tropes for some people, she is beloved and interesting for many fans, blind or sighted.
I ask people to trace their logic about why they choose to give their blind character powers related to sight. What kind of power is it? Does it make up for (aka erase) their blindness and make them less relatable to blind readers/watchers? Are they the only blind character and/or the only person with such a power? Can they have another power? What works and does not work for good characters like Toph? Why?
Getting rid of these particular tropes are not the answer. I simply invite people to consider other options, try new things, think critically about why and what woks or doesn’t work in other characters.
I absolutely invite blind writers to use whatever tropes they want, as they can probably write it in a more nuanced way.
My personal opinion about the Supercrip trope is that it is somehow focused on success or talent as the enemy without recognizing what it means. Wanting to succeed is not wrong. Being competitive is refreshing!
It isn’t really about doing super things or not— it is about disabled people being made to feel like they will not be successful, accepted, or taken seriously if they do not win everything or succeed at impossible feats. Able-bodied people are permitted to exist without needing to prove anything. Disabled people are not afforded that respect.
Either disabled people fight against the ingrained expectation that they simply cannot do anything, that will FAIL, because of their disability, or they fight against the realization that, for many people, even impossible feats will never be enough. Their accomplishments will never be seen as just that— accomplishments.
Blind characters should be talented or hard-working, prodigies or people who claw their way to the top. Their disability may be an obstacle and it may, in fact, barely even be necessary to mention aside from adaptive tools. The Supercrip is so alluring because people are under the impression blind people— and disabled people as a whole— cannot do anything. To the point that some condescendingly assume certain things are impossible because they did not think of adaptive techniques or technology. This is why research is important.
Remember why this trope/stereotype exists: for the inspiration of able-bodied people who are uninterested in making changes in society’s attitudes and the amount of accessibility it provides. Problematic tropes like this usually have a specific issue behind them and you cannot tackle or discuss r subvert the trope until you understand the harmful reason it exists.
Not everyone agrees with me. Here are some reading materials:
On the pervasive Supercrip trope in martial arts:
http://feministing.com/2010/02/19/media-portrayal-of-disability-and-martial-arts-a-personal-statement/
On the pressure this trope puts on blind people:
Challenging the ‘Supercrip’ Stereotype of People With Disabilities | The Mighty
[In the comments, I would prefer people not speculate about Toph being a Supercrip or not if they aren’t blind themselves. It would be more helpful to focus on other aspects of this review or share posts by other blind people instead.]
Keep in mind, this is only a review of one episode. And I personally will take a powerful disabled character over a powerless, sad one anytime.
This concludes our commercial break. Back to the show.
BEING BLIND IN EARTH KINGDOM SOCIETY
Earth Kingdom Boy 1: “Well, a flying boar is the symbol of the Beifong family. They’re the richest people in town. Probably whole world.” Earth Kingdom Boy 2: “Yeah, but they don’t have a daughter.”
Now this is interesting. It implies that Toph is: a) hiding herself well so as to keep up her double life and/or b) being hidden by her family. I suspect it is a little of both. A) is pretty obvious, especially with the wall surrounding their estate, while b) could be due to overprotectiveness or shame on the part of her parents. Shame may seem harsh. However, this is not exactly a modern time period and respect for disabled people can vary depending on culture, time, place, and individual attitudes.
When portraying poor social attitudes toward disabled characters, writers must work hard to show the attitudes as wrong and work to reduce them. I do feel that, like with gender discrimination, people tend to preemptively assume accepting disability is modern and Western concept- and that any ableism is fair game because it is realistic. That is far from the truth, especially if they get it wrong.
Too much and it could be mistaken for an excuse to be ableist. Too little and it may seem like erasure of societal barriers faced by blind people.
Let’s see how the ATLA writers handle this.
TOPH’S “SIGHT” AND MISSED OPPORTUNITIES
Anyway, the Gaang finds Toph again. Toph: “What are doing here, Twinkle Toes?” Aang: “How did you know it was me?”
Two things stick out here. I love that The Gaang interacts with her normally and this episode is not about the able-bodied characters learning how to treat a disabled person like a person, nor is it about them confronting their biases. Instead, they have a favor to ask, one that Toph cannot grant. The episode shifts focus onto Toph and her emotions and needs.
I also liked that Aang asks how she knew it was him. This is a common question and it seems to be asked in curiosity rather than implied judgment or suspicion on Aang’s part, as is often the case nowadays. Later in the episode, Toph explains how she knew, but she could also have recognized his footsteps (light as they are) with or without her bending. Blind people are also usually more reliant on hearing or smell and so may pick up on scents or sounds others do not. That is not to say their hearing or smell are superior (see the Supercrip discussion), but that they are used more often. This is how I conceptualize Toph’s bending— it is something she uses all day, every day. Like her hearing and smell and touch, she is more reliant on these senses and so uses them in ways others don’t.
I do wish we had a few more examples of this in the episode/show rather than Toph using her bending for every situation. As I said, I do not mind that she can “see” with bending as it is not true sight, but showing how she uses other senses would have been nice details.
TOPH’S PARENTS HAVE ENTERED THE RING
Toph: “I thought I heard something! I got scared.” Guard: “You know your father doesn’t want you wandering the grounds without supervision, Toph.”
With this, we can understand her father is overprotective, so much so that Toph is able to believably pull off this act of helplessness in front of the guards. Her father does not believe even walking around her own home is safe for her.
With that in mind, it is NOT a plot hole that she can walk around her home in front of her parents. Even overprotected blind kids don’t use canes or need a guide within their own homes as they often memorize the layout. Canes are not usually used inside ones own home or very familiar areas. Outside areas might be an exception as they are likely to change due to nature or redesign, but generally familiar, casual areas do not warrant canes or guides. It is completely believable that Toph can walk around in her own home without causing suspicion.
Toph’s father, indicating soup placed in front of her: “Blow on it. It’s too hot for her.”
Not only is her father overprotective, he is infantilizing. He thinks she can’t blow on her own soup and must be confined to basic stances of bending, something Toph is clearly unhappy with. Toph’s parents are the kind of people who wouldn’t let her watch TV lol!
Toph’s father: “And sadly, because of her blindness, I don’t think she will ever become a true master.”
There it is. There are many people in the world who have this mindset, believing disabled people succeeding is unrealistic, or only achieved by pity-driven intervention from others for inspirational purposes or a lie told by overly soft parenting. Toph’s father may seem radical, but his views are very common even for those close to a blind person. Even for those who might like the inspirational stories about blind people doing things.
HOW TOPH SEES THE WORLD
Toph: “It’s kind of like seeing with my feet.”
This is where I disagree with some interpretations of Toph. She can sense where things are and what they are. She has a wider range than someone with a cane would. However, I don’t know if this is quite erasing her blindness. Could they have done better? Yes. However, to claim the show made her sighted with magic is not quite fitting to me. Toph is not seeing with a magical potion, nor did Katara heal her blindness. She is using a power a lot of people in the ATLA universe have in bending, one she has used her entire life and perfected through sheer number of practice hours. I think it helps that she did not get this power, narratively, because she was blind. Rather she is a blind person who adapted a skill to her use.
A cane or an animal guide might have helped make the narrative more relatable for blind people, however. They could have also played up being unable to see people’s facial expressions. In other episodes, they show areas where she is unable to bend, such as on ice, sand, or floating objects like the warship or Appa.
In these instances, they could have shown sighted guide.
However, I think what they did worked. Would I suggest anyone else try it? Maybe not. It depends on their motivation for doing it. Toph’s powers basically act as a cane or Sunnu band would. They aren’t a magic spell letting her see all the time.
They could have done a little better— I still think it worked. It does not seem to have unfortunate implications of sight being better than blindness or blindness needing special cures.
For writing purposes, it is important to understand why this worked, how it was portrayed, factor in that bending is not unique to Toph, understand the nature of her ‘sight’, and understand what they could have done better. Just because it works here doesn’t mean it will work everywhere. It is important for writers to understand that and question their motivation for giving their character a different kind of vision.
THE DISABILITY EPISODE - AVOIDED
Toph’s father: “My daughter is blind. She is blind and tiny and helpless and fragile. She cannot help you.” Toph: “Yes. I can.”
Some may feel uncomfortable that Toph’s first episode is about her parents doubting her, dealing with ableism and being forced into stereotypes by her own family. It is important to remember that this is a show for children and any blind children watching it will have dealt with similar issues from adults in their lives. The show doesn’t seem to say this is the only narrative a blind character can have, but rather that it is a relatable occurrence for blind children who are watching it.
Toph also has many episodes left — this is only the beginning. This is hardly her only arc, and even her personality and abilities challenge so many stereotypes.
In most shows, the blind character gets one episode. Toph, however, is a main character.
Toph is also a well-rounded and interesting character with agency. She hardly seems like an inspirational puppet for adults.if this show had been written for adults or if Toph had been focusing on wanting to become a champion “despite her blindness”, I might have felt upset. It goes to show how important nuance is when writing disabled characters and how powerful it can be to make an effort to challenge stereotypes.
This is not how we first see Toph— helpless, unproductive. Instead, we FIRST see her out in the world kicking butt with her bending skill and I think that it is important.
NOT SO HELPLESS AFTER ALL
Toph’s father uses these words to describe her: Tiny, helpless, fragile. Unable to help others. Unexpected to become a true master or even advance beyond breathing techniques.
Toph challenges all of these at some point. She helps Aang defeat the bad guys. She faces many people in battle and wins, remaining an undefeated champion until Aang accidentally beats her. She advances far beyond basic bending techniques. Toph is good at very active things, with bending as a martial art and as a sport here. It is refreshing to see blind characters being so active and a stark contrast to the passive image her father has of his blind daughter. She does things for herself, including developing her bending style without the help of a master who limits her- and she hides her double life well. Toph’s ability and personality also challenge notions of fragility: she is boisterous and fearless, stubborn and even a bit rude. She mostly says what she wants to and fiercely hides what she doesn’t want to, even when pressured. She yielded only to her parents, which is tied up in love, respect, fear that they will no longer love her, possible aversion to change in some aspects of her life, and cultural expectations. For disabled children, it is often hard to go against your parents because the world teaches you that the world will never accept you or allow you to live in it. Your family is all you have.
Toph IS tiny, although that is due to genetics, environmental factors, and her age. However, her stature is used to prove the other qualities assigned to her when in reality her height has nothing to do with anything her family believes about her.
When the fighting starts, Toph creates a cloud of dust which effectively blinds her opponents. I thought it was a nice, ironic touch. The point is not just that her opponents now cannot see; Toph is already used to fighting under these conditions. She didn’t level the playing field. She is already better than them, already used to working without sight, and so the advantage is hers.
ABLEISM IN ACTION
Later, Toph confronts her parents:
Toph’s father: “You will be cared for and guarded 24/7.” Toph’s mother: “We are doing this for your own good, Toph.”
Unfortunately, this kind of infantilization is not uncommon. They saw her as she truly was and were still unable to let go of their ideas of their blind daughter. At this point, Toph is more trapped than ever despite opening up. The first time, it was surprising to see them not change their minds, given the happy endings we are used to in children’s shows. However, what happens is more relatable to blind kids with overprotective or controlling parents.
Of course, Toph makes the choice to leave them, showing more agency than most blind characters get, with or without controlling parents.
OVERALL
Overall: I loved this episode. It was a nice introduction to a character that both challenged expectations and dealt with obstacles relatable to blind fans. Toph’s struggles with her parents and the weight of stereotypes could have been cheap inspiration porn, but the way it was handled and the target audience of children rather than adults changes things immensely. This episode goes out of its way to challenge many stereotypes viewers may hold about blind people in ways that are fun and exciting. Toph’s personality is refreshing even over a decade later. While her bending as ‘sight’ may be disliked by some, it feels more like something with missed opportunities (the use of a cane or sighted guide), although I thought this episode did it well. Toph is not given special powers so that she can see—she adapts an ability for her own use.
Toph is a martial artist, encouraging children to try something similar if they are interested. She challenges her own parents, which may be very relatable to blind fans.
Unlike most children’s shows of the time (and even now), Toph does not feel like a vessel for able-bodied viewers to learn about blindness.
ACCESSIBILITY:
However, it is important to remember that at the time ATLA aired, there was no Netflix with audio descriptions. Descriptions were infrequent at the time and are still spotty on cable TV. The ATLA DVD did not have audio descriptions either, which is the case with all DVDs I have come across. Netflix also took an embarrassingly long time to add audio descriptions to a show with a blind character.
Consider that Toph was nearly inaccessible to blind children at the time — until 2020, well after other sighted children could enjoy it fully. Blind children could not watch a show about them with the same ease that a sighted child could. Think about that.
Is the show to blame for this? I don’t know. Usually the broadcasting service handles descriptions. I have yet to come across a DVD with descriptions. However, I wonder why it took this long. Did the staff consider a blind audience at all? Could they have pushed for descriptions to be added to the DVD?
And what about fans? Did fans consider that the character who challenged stereotypes for them might not be as accessible to blind people themselves? While they scrabbled about whether the characters were ableist, did they bother to consider Netflix’s lack of audio descriptions? Do they remember to add image descriptions to GIFs, pictures, or video clips in the years ATLA was popular online? Did any of this occur to anyone BUT the blind community?
Doesn’t seem like it.
TOPH AND THINGS I WOULD LIKE TO SEE MORE OF/LESS OF IN BLIND CHARACTERS
I made a post about things I would like to see more/less of in blind characters. You can read it here:
https://blindbeta.tumblr.com/post/637419979125489664/things-i-want-to-see-more-ofless-of-in-blind
Here’s how Toph compares to that!
More of:
-Blind main character ✔️
-Blind character of color ✔️
-Active (sports/martial arts) and competitive ✔️
-Acknowledgment of difficulties faced in society ✔️
How They Avoided Things I Wanted Less Of: -Being portrayed as sad or broken because of blindness - Avoided - Toph owns her blindness by giving herself the same The Blind Bandit. The only time she is sad is when facing ableism from her parents.
-Being innocent, helpless, and unrealistically kind or selfless - Toph proves she is not helpless, even directly challenging it in the narrative. - Toph is also not unrealistically kind or selfless, not only insulting other characters- but refusing to help Aang when he needs it because it would change things between her and her parents. She also challenges her parents in the end, putting her desires before their feelings toward their perceptions of her. When she follows Aang, she doesn’t do so only to help him. She has her own want to travel and gain independence. - As for innocence, Toph IS 12, although she is far from naive. She is able to fool her own parents into thinking she is who they want her to be.
-Being portrayed as ungrateful or rude in general - Toph’s rudeness comes from a non-ableist place—herself. She is not rude due to anger about being blind nor rude due to entitlement. She doesn’t accept she doesn’t need and is not demonized for this, even when going against her own parents. Toph’s rudeness is in her personality, making it subversive in avoiding the idea blind people must accept all help and be grateful for it. The narrative does NOT expect Toph to go along with the ‘help’ of her parents or even Aang. She refuses this help until she is ready and willing to receive it.
-Going blind due to accidents or trauma - Toph was born blind
I WOULD HAVE WANTED TO SEE:
-more adaptive technology/skills in addition to her bending
-how she utilizes her other senses
-another blind, minor character somewhere in the show (doesn’t apply to this episode, but still)
Toph is, in the end, a token blind character. It works better because she is a MAIN character, which is still not a common occurrence in modern media at all. Toph works because she does not have any stereotypical traits about her personality, which means the sighted audience does not have to rely on another character to broaden their perspective. However, it is still important to include more than one blind character in your stories. For ATLA, 1 or 2 minor blind characters may have helped, or maybe an additional secondary or even main character with low vision.
Toph has a well-rounded personality, which also means the “token” is not completely applicable to her. Toph is a great character. It would have been nice if she were not the only blind character. In fact, I cannot think of any show that has more than one blind character, as if it is a character quirk that cannot be done more than once.
RANDOM IMAGINES TIME
Now I’m imagining a Zuko whose eyesight was affected by the burn or a Zuko whose father decided he didn’t need that side of face anyway if he could not see out of it. Or an Azula who is blind and still better than Zuko -sticks out tongue-! Or perhaps Sokka or Ty Lee contrasting Toph’s personality and bringing to the table a struggle with a lack of depth perception while hunting or performing in the circus, respectively.
The point is, you don’t have to overload your story with blind characters unless you are setting it at a school or event for the blind. Instead, consider who is blind in your story and who else possibly could be. Consider why you only have one blind character and why.
That about wraps up all my thoughts on Toph. In short, I love her. There are things they could have done better or additions they could have made to improve the episode and Toph’s character as a whole, but she is still one of the most beloved and recognizable blind characters ever. I think that says something about the impression she left on people.
If only she would have been accessible to more blind children from the start.
I hope this review was helpful! If you need help writing blind characters I provide sensitivity reading in exchange for donations. My inbox is also open for questions.
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Disguised Part 1
Jack x Reader
Warnings: Swearing, blood, fights, angst
Hop you guys like! Sorry it took so long to get this out I have had one heck of a week.. lolol.. Please comment and let me know what you think!
Ten Years Earlier:
There were flames everywhere. As a seven year old you had no clue what was happening. It was hot, but it was winter. You couldn’t breathe. Your eyes burned and so did your lungs.
Your skin was alive with pain and stinging. You felt painfully numb. Was that even a feeling?
You coughed. And then coughed again, harder.
The room swam and you tripped over something, hitting the floor with full force. You stared at the door you had been searching for. There it was, finally. But out of reach. Why did it seem everything was always out of reach for you? Just too small to reach the top shelf, just too young to sit with the grown ups, just too female to do anything of importance…
Tears leaked from your eyes, and not just from physical pain.
The door opened and more smoke fled in. You heard footsteps running in and, with the last bit of energy you pushed yourself up. You saw the blurry edges of a familiar neighbor.
Charlie?
Then you passed out.
Xx
You woke up in a cot a few days later. Looking around the small room you realized that you were alone.
Where were you?
You heard voices and then footsteps. You shut your eyes tight again just as the door opened.
Someone sat down on your bed.
“I’s knows yous ain’t sleepin’.” Your eyes flew open and you looked up at Charles. A crutch leaned on the cot, but you didn’t pay mind. You jumped onto him, ignoring the pulling of your healing burns. You buried your head in his neck. He grabbed onto you and held you close, just as frightened as you, though he’d tell you he wasn’t. He was three years older than you and the brother you never had.
"What happened? Where am I? Where's mum and dad?" You asked. The questions pouring out of you. The last you saw them, they had been unconscious in the living room.
Instead of answering he just hugged you to his chest tighter…
Present day:
"Strike!" The Newsies, your unofficial brothers, screamed in response to Jack's very lengthy and moving monologue.
He leapt off the stage and started talking to Charles… Well, Crutchie now. He hadn't gone by that name since the fire happened and you two became newsies.
Nobody knew you were a girl and you preferred to keep it that way… although, A bit of extra attention from a certain Jack Kelly wouldn't be so bad. But beggars can't be choosers.
You watched as Katherin Plummer walked up to him and you felt your stomach drop. Rich, pretty, and successful. How could you beat that? Especially when he didn’t know you were a girl and he didn’t know your feelings.You sighed and walked to meet up with them, tasseling Race’s hair as you walked by him. He shoved you and you laughed.
“Hey!” You leaned on Crutchie’s shoulder as you joined the group. “Beautiful speech, Jacky-boy,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I’s think you’s gotta future as a politician.”
“Oh hardy hardy har, Scabs.”
Scabs.
Your name.
It was pretty appropriate for a few reasons. When you and Crutchie first joined you had healing burn marks and cuts all over your body. All of them scabbing. You also always had some sort of cut on you. That you were picking at, hence all your scars. Being a newsie, especially one with a big secret, caused a lot of anxiety, you couldn’t help it.
You smirked at him and shook your head.
“So, wheres we go from here?”
“That's a question for Davey.”
“Well, where is-” before you could get your statement out, chaos broke out. You turned around to see the Delancies break into the theatre with cops on their heels. You swore, and Jack pulled Katherine to get her out of the way. She willingly applied.
Delicate little-
You didn’t get to finish your thought before you had started shoving the cops and Delancies, entering the brawl with full force.
You watched as all the boys started to get their asses kicked and then get out of the theatre. You and Jack somehow ended up side by side, fighting the delancies as the cops chased after the others. But then you saw him.
Snider the Spider stared Jack down, an evil grin on his face.
Not on your watch.
“Jack, get outta here!” You screamed. Jack looked at you.
“No!”
“Jack! Just do it!”
“But-”
“GO!” He was so startled that he dodged his last punch and ran up into the catwalk of Medda’s place. You fought off the Delancies and ran. Turning around only when you herald CRutchie scream for mercy.
You turn and see the delancies and Spider standing over him.
“Crutch!” You scream and run back over even faster than you had running away, barreling over sand bags and loose wires.
The Delancies and Snider watched you and left CRutchie alone coming after you instead. You watched as Crutchie crawled away.
Morris came at you with a swing. You easily dodged it and threw him into his brother who stumbled back into Snider. You laughed and turned, about to make your get away. Instead you ran straight into an officer who threw you back onto the floor. Morris and Oscar attacked, like hungry piranhas, though they at least were prettier and smelled better.
You felt pain erupt all over you until it was gone and you felt nothing, saw nothing, and for a few hours were nothing…
Xx
Jack stumbled back into the Manhattan Newsies’ terf. The boys were all hanging around, checking on each other after the brawl.
He couldn’t believe they got Crutchie.
“Damn Crip,” he mumbled, shaking his head, not knowing what to do next.
“Jack!” he looked up when Race called his name. He came running up to him. “Jack, where Scab?”
“Scab?” Jack’s eyes widened. No. They couldn’t have gotten you, too. You-you had run. He saw you.
He heard the familiar Thunk Thunk of a crutch. He looked up and saw Crutchie a bit battered, but alive and here.
“Crutchie!?” The crippled boy swallowed, tears in his eyes.
“They-they got ‘er, Jack.” he rasped out. “Jack-they they got ‘er.”
He collapsed, his crutch falling out from under him. Jack caught him and Race left, letting them talk alone.
“Who’s her, Crutchie? WHo’s got her? How did you escape?” Crutchie swallowed.
“Y/N, they got, Y/N.”
“Who has her,” Jack said, a bit confused not knowing Crutchie had himself a girl.
“Snider!” He exploded, hitting Jack’s chest. “They got ‘er, Jack! They got ‘er.” He sobbed, his voice breaking.
“Ok, ok. How did he get your girl, Crutchie. Just calm down and explain it.” Crutchie stared at him for a second not understanding why he was acting like he was until he realized he used your real name.
Crutchie settled himself and took a breath.
“Jack, Y/N is Scab.” Jack stared at his friend for a moment.
“What?’ Crutches sighed and lowered himself to the ground.
“I think you need to have a seat, Jack.
Xx
You had woken up in the refuge, staring at the ceiling, a thin stream of moonlight streamed through the small barred slit in the wall that was considered a “window”. You were almost as wanted as Jack was. Only the best accommodations for the Enemy number 2, right?
You sighed and shivered as the wind blew in and froze your toes, the scratchy, old, thin blanket doing nothing to protect you.
“Y/N!” You look up to see Crutchie at the slit in the wall. You eyes widen and you spring up, running to him.
“Crutch! What are you doin’ here. Are you dumb or something?”
“I needed to make sure you were ok, kid.” You sighed. “Are you ok?”
“Yeah,” you put your head on the bars. “How are the boys? Everyone makes it out alright?”
“Yeah, but I have someone who wants ta see ya.”
He stepped out of the way and revealed Jack. You stared at him and knew immediately that he knew. That Crutchie had told him. You had never wanted to kill the boy who was like your brother more in your life.
“Hey, Scab, how ya doin’?”
“You told him,” you glared at Crutchie and he looked away, not being able to meet your eyes. “The hell, Crutch!” You shouted as loud as you dared. Snider was listening… always was… and you didn’t want to get the boys caught.
“Scab-er-Y/N, are you ok?” Jack asked, concern filling his expression. You looked at him, grateful for the street lights that hid your face, yet illuminated his.
“I’m fine, Jack. Did anyone else get caught?”
They shook their heads and you sighed.
“Good.” You heard footsteps coming down the hall. You looked over your shoulder and swallowed. They heard you. They had to of.”You guys should get going.”
“But-”
“Do yous wanna get caught?” he swallowed and shook his head.
“We’ll get you outta here.”
“No, Jacky-boy, I don’t think you will. Do the strike and do it good. Win.” He opened his mouth to object, but you looked at Crutchie. “Get ‘im and yourself outta here before yous get caught.” He looked down and tugged Jack’s sleeve, pulling him away from you. As they made their way down the fire escapes he caught a glimpse of you in the light and his eyes widened with horror as he took in your face. Bloodied, bruised, and puffy. They had got you good… and that was not going to fly...
#crutchie newsies#newsies#new fic#jack kelly#jack kelly x reader#jack kelly x newsies#Jack kelly x y/n#Jack kelly x you#crutchie x you#crutchie x reader#crutchy x y/n#crutchie x newsies
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July Colorful Column: Remus is a Crip, and We Can Write Him Better.
There is one thing that can get me to close a fic so voraciously I don’t even make sure I’m not closing other essential tabs in the process. It doesn’t matter how much I’m loving the fic, how well written I think it is, or how desperately I want to know how it ends. Once I read this sentence, I am done.
It’s written in a variety of different ways, but it always goes something like this: “You don’t want me,” Remus said, “I am too sick/broken/poor/old/[insert chosen self-demeaning adjective here].”
You’re familiar with the trope. The trope is canonical. And if you’ve been around the wolfstar fandom for longer than a few minutes, you’ve read the trope. Maybe you love the trope! Maybe you’ve written the trope! Maybe you’re about to stop reading this column, because the trope rings true to you and you feel a little attacked!
Now, let’s get one thing out of the way right now: I am not saying the trope is wrong. I am not saying it’s bad. I am not saying we should stop writing it. We all have things we don’t like to see in our chosen fics. Maybe you can’t stand Leather Jacket Motorbike Sirius? Maybe you think Elbow Patch Remus is overdone? Or maybe your pet peeves are based in something a little deeper - maybe you think Poor Latino Remus is an irresponsible depiction, or that PWPs are too reductive? Whatever it is, we all have our things.
Let me tell you about my thing. When I first became very ill several years ago, there were various low points in which I felt I had become inherently unlovable. This is, more or less, a normal reaction. When your body stops doing things it used to be able to do - or starts doing things you were quite alright without, thank you very much - it changes the way you relate to your body. You don’t want to hear my whole disability history, so yada yada yada, most people eventually come to accept their limitations. It’s a very painful existence, one in which you constantly tell yourself your disability has transformed you into a burdensome, unworthy member of society, and if nothing else, it’s not terribly sustainable. Being disabled takes grit! It takes power! It takes a truly absurd amount of medical self-advocacy! Hating yourself? Thinking yourself unworthy of love? No one has time for that.
Of course, I’m being hyperbolic. Plenty of disabled people struggle with these feelings many years into their disabilities, and never really get over them. But here’s the thing. We experience those stories ALL THE TIME. Remember Rain Man? Or Million Dollar Baby? Or that one with the actress from Game of Thrones and that British actor who seemed like he was going to have a promising career but then didn't? Those are all stories about sad, bitter disabled people and their sad, bitter lives, two out of three of which end in the character completing suicide because they simply couldn’t imagine having to live as a disabled person. (I mean, come on media, I get that we're less likely to enjoy a leisurely Saturday hike, but our parking is SUBLIME.) When was the last time you engaged with media that depicted a happy disabled person? A complex disabled person? A disabled person who has sex? No really, these aren’t hypothetical questions, can you please drop a rec in the notes?? Because I am desperate.
There are lots of problems with this trope, and they’ve been discussed ad nauseam by people with PhDs. I’m not actually interested in talking about how this trope leads to a more prevalent societal idea that disabled people are unworthy of love, or contributes to the kind of political thought processes that keep disabled people purposefully disenfranchised. I’m just a bitch on Tumblr, and I have a bone to pick: the thing I really hate about the trope? It’s boring. I’m bored. You know how, like, halfway through Grey’s Anatomy you realized they were just recycling the same plot points over and over again and there was just no WAY anyone working at a hospital prone to THAT MANY disasters would stay on staff? It's like that. I love a recycled trope as much as the next person (There Was Only One Bed, anyone?). But I need. Something. Else.
Remus is disabled. BOLD claim. WILD speculation. Except, not really. You simply - no matter how you flip it, slice it, puree it, or deconstruct it - cannot tell me Remus Lupin is not disabled. Most of us, by this point, are probably familiar with the way that One Canonical Author intended One Dashing Werewolf to be “a metaphor for those illnesses that carry stigma, like HIV and AIDS” [I’m sorry to link you to an outside source quoting She Who Must Not Be Named, but we’re professionals here]. Which is... a thing. It’s been discussed. And, listen, there’s no denying that this parallel is a problematic interpretation of people who have HIV/AIDS and all such similar “those illnesses” (though I’ll admit that I, too, am perennially apt to turn into a raging beast liable to harm anything that crosses my path, but that’s more linked to the at-least-once-monthly recollection that One Day At A Time got cancelled). Critiques aside, Remus Lupin is a character who - due to a condition that affects him physically, mentally, emotionally, and intellectually - is repeatedly marginalized, oppressed, denied political and social power, and ostracized due to unfounded fear that he is infectious to others. Does that sound familiar?
We’re not going to argue about whether or not “Remus is canonically disabled as fuck” is a fair reading. And the reason we’re not going to argue about whether or not it’s a fair reading is because I haven’t read canon in 10-plus years and you will win the argument. Canon is only marginally relevant here. The icon of this blog is brown, curly haired Remus Lupin kissing his trans boyfriend, Sirius Black. We are obviously not too terribly invested in canon. The wolfstar fandom is now a community with over 25,000 AO3 fics, entire careers launched from drawing or writing or cosplaying this non-canonical pairing. We love to play around here with storylines and universes and races and genders and sexualities and all kinds of things, but most of the time? Remus is still disabled. He’s disabled as a werewolf in canon-compliant works, he’s disabled in the AUs where he was injured or abused or kidnapped or harmed as a child, he’s disabled in the stories that read him as chronically ill or bipolar or traumatized or blind or Deaf. I’d go so far as to say that he is one of very few characters in the Wide Wonderful World of media who is, in as close to his essence as one can be, always disabled. And that means? Don’t shoot the messenger... but we could stand to be a tiny bit more responsible with how we portray him.
Disabled people are complicated. As much as I’d like to pretend we are always level-headed, confident, and ready to assert our inherent worth, we are still just humans. We have bad days. We doubt our worth. We sometimes go out with guys who complain about our steroid-induced weight gain (it was a long time ago, Tumblr, okay??). But, we also have joy and fun and good days and sex and happiness and families and so many other things.
Remus is a disabled character, and as such, it’s only fair that he’d have those unworthy moments. But - I propose - Remus is also a crip. What is a crip? A crip - like a queer - is someone who eschews the limited boundaries placed on their bodies, who rejects a hierarchy of oppression in favor of an intersectional analysis of lived experience, who isn’t interested in being the tragic figure responsible for helping people with dominant identities realize how good they have it. Crips interpret their disabilities however they want, rethinking bodies and medicine and pleasure and pain and even time itself. Crips are political, community-minded, and in search of liberation.
Remus is a character who struggles with his disability, sure. But he’s also a character who leverages his physical condition to attempt to shift communities towards his political leanings, advocates for the rights of those who share his physical condition, and has super hot sex with his wrongfully convicted boyfriend ultimately goes on to build community and family. Having a condition that quite literally cripples you, over which you have no control, and through which you are often read as a social pariah? That’s disability. But using said condition as a means through which to build advocacy and community? Now that’s some crip shit.
Personally, I love disabled!Remus Lupin. But I love crip!Remus Lupin even more. I’d love to see more of a Remus who owns his disability, who covets what makes him unique, and who never ever again tells a potential romantic partner they are too good for him because of his disability. This trope - unlike There Was Only One Bed! - sometimes actually hurts to read. Where’s Remus who thinks a potential romantic partner isn’t good enough for him? Where’s Remus who insists his partners learn more about his condition in order to treat him properly? Where’s sexy wheelchair user Remus? Where’s Remus who uses his werewolf transformations as an excuse to travel the world? Where’s crip Remus??
We don’t have to put “you don’t want me” Remus entirely to bed. It is but one of many repeated tropes that are - in the words of The Hot Priest from Fleabag - morally a bit dubious. And let’s face it - we don’t always come to fandom for its moral superiority (as much as we sometimes like to think we do).
This is not a condemnation - it is an invitation. Able-bodied folks are all but an injury, illness, or couple decades away from being disabled. And when you get here, I sincerely hope you don’t waste your time on “you don’t want me”ing back and forth with the people you love. I’m inviting you to come to the crip side now. We have snacks, and without all the “you don’t want me” talk, we get to the juicy parts much faster.
Colorfully,
Mod Theo
#wolfstar#disability in fandom#disabled remus#crip remus#please write me some crip remus#I beg of you#fandom meta
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It’s Just Me
word count: it’s a headcanon and it’s 12 am so quite frankly i don’t know.
warnings: talks of abusive ex, panic attacks. please do not read this if said topics will upset you.
request:
a/n: this is part 6 of (undetermined) of me trying to finish requests that have been sent in ages ago. (literally this was from christmas as you can see, so im gonna switch it up a bit) IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT AND QUALITY. it’s been hard to write but hopefully these will do. please ignore any mistakes, again, it’s 12 am.
today you had convinced steve to go shopping for a new wardrobe.
although it was no secret that he was literally a man out of time, you still wanted to dress him fashionably.
tony had made a bet with you the other day that you couldn’t get steve into modern clothes aside from dad-style apparel.
being the competitive person you are, you took on the challenge, putting a nice crips benjamin bill on the line.
steve only agreed because he, too, wanted tony to lose this bet.
yes, the avengers were a bit too competitive, but now is not the time to life coach.
you and steve perused through the racks of clothing in every department store.
it always seemed to be the same though.
you’d send him in with ten hangers and he’d probably only come out with one if you were lucky.
fortunately, one article of clothing here and there was more than enough to compile an outfit for steve.
just as you and steve walked into the footwear store, you recognized an all too familiar face.
the excitement in your body had been instantly replaced with fear.
your ex.
of all places to run into to someone, and of all people too.
your ex who wasn’t just anyone.
they had done unforgettable things to you mentally and it had stuck with you since.
until you met steve, you thought that was love.
but it was quite the opposite.
steve noticed your sudden change in mood and flipped like a light switch into his protective mode.
“(y/n), honey, what’s wrong?”
your breathing was starting to pick up little by little and this point and steve could tell something was truly wrong.
before things escalated, you were able to get the words to escape, “it’s my ex.”
steve had heard all the stories that made him red with anger.
he wanted nothing more to sink his fist straight into your ex’s face after all the things done to you.
you were the love of steve’s life and he couldn’t bear to think that someone would treat such a sweetheart like you so badly.
steve didn’t like bullies and he especially didn’t like this one.
your ex started moving closer and closer as they scanned through the aisles.
luckily they hadn’t seen you until you peeped out a few noises of fear.
tears were steaming down your face and your body was shaking.
this all happened as steve was about to march on over and wail this ninny straight into the ground, but the second he heard your sniffles, he immediately softened.
steve went forward to embrace you, but you flinched.
“my darling, it’s just me. it’s just steve.”
you looked up and he placed his hands on your face to calm you, ignoring the audience.
the audience unfortunately included the knucklehead that was your ex as they smirked upon seeing your reaction and knowing they were the cause.
steve had a few choice words he wanted to use towards the perpetrator, but he knew better than to inflate the situation.
it would be like adding gasoline to a fire and steve wasn’t looking for another explosion.
just when you were finally calmed down, your ex had to open their mouth.
“dramatic bitch as always. if i were you, i’d leave her sorry ass.”
steve couldn’t take it anymore.
he gently sat you down on the bench for trying on shoes and civilly walked on over to the ex.
he looked terrifyingly calm like the eye of a category 5 hurricane.
“you know what? (y/n) isn’t dramatic, she’s an outstanding woman, especially after all the shit you but her through.”
seeing as your ex wasn’t going to listen and take what would have been the easy way out, steve decided to open the gate to the high road.
by this, i mean that steve was about to full on uppercut punch this disgrace of a human’s jaw.
your ex was about to make a remark about how steve’s little heartfelt statement didn’t mean anything to anyone, but it wasn’t even begun as steve’s fist connected with their chin.
you watched in shock as your golden retriever of a boyfriend just turned into cujo in a matter of seconds.
“that’s for everything you’ve ever done my girlfriend. don’t you ever mess with her again.”
with that steve walked away and towards you.
he offered his hand to help you up from the bench and the two of you walked out.
you were able to be content knowing that steve would always have your back.
#steve rogers x you#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers headcanon#steve rogers x female reader
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Hey there anons! both of these requests were really similar, so i just mushed them both together to write this, I hope you don't mind :)
For those of you who don't know what this is referencing, part one to this fic can be found here!
characters belong to the lovely @lumosinlove as always!
~
Logan’s teeth were chattering as he stood by the car, the tears drying on his cheeks creating tracks of salt. Leo sniffed a little as he helped Finn unclasp Logan’s bike from the boot, his own eyes a little red from the long talk they had had in the car.
Logan’s bike shorts were no barrier against the crip, gryffindor air and Finn wordlessly threw his coat around Logan as the three of them walked to the house. Leo silently wheeled the bike into the garage, the gentle blanket of night a comforting presence around the gravity of the conversation they’d had.
“Just a minute sweetheart, you can go ahead if you’re getting too cold.” Finn said, his voice raspy from the tears. Logan shook his head, shifting closer to Finn’s side. The redhead wrapped an arm around his partner’s shoulder as the two of them waited for Leo to join them. It didn’t take too long for him to do so, and he tangled his fingers with Finn’s as they walked indoors.
As promised, Leo immediately wrapped Logan up in his comfiest hoodie, pressing a kiss to his forehead and leaving with Logan’s phone in hand to find a charger for it. Finn walked right into the kitchen and got started on the hot chocolate.
Leo wasn’t too long, and was back before Logan could so much as begin to process his evening. He tucked Logan into his side, almost as though he couldn’t bear the thought of having him out of sight. The lump in Logan’s throat only grew. He’d been horrible to the both of them, and here they were, taking care of him like they were the ones at fault. He didn’t deserve this.
But boy was he grateful.
The tears slipped free before he could stop them and he turned his head into Leo’s shoulder. Leo just tugged him gently into his lap, wrapping his arms around him tightly, pressing kisses to his hair, his temple.
“Hush baby,” Logan heard the subtle way his voice shook with emotion. “I’ve got you. You’re home now. You’re safe.”
The words were whispered onto over-warm skin, over and over; and Logan knew it was just as much for Leo’s own sake as it was for his. The two of them just sat there in comforting silence, interrupted by Logan’s quiet sobs and Leo’s shaky breath as he tried his best to slow his tears.
Finn walked in on the two of them that way, and he made his way to the coffee table, setting the tray of mugs down. He joined the two of them on the couch, stroking Logan’s spine and twining his fingers through Leo’s.
Logan sat up, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand as he reached for him mug of hot chocolate.
“I—I don’t even know where to start, I was so horrible to you.”
Finn shushed him. “All of us said things we didn’t really mean, Lolo. It’s okay.”
Leo nodded, his thumbs stroking circles onto Logan’s thighs.
“I know, but I walked out. I broke our promise.”
“Lo, it’s alright. What matters is that we found you, and you’re home now.”
“Speaking of, how the hell did you even find me? I didn’t even know where I was.”
Leo huffed a laugh, barely avoiding spilling his drink all over him and Logan. “You left your location on dumbass.”
Logan frowned. “Yeah….but my phone died just as I was about to navigate home, and I walked for a bit after that too.”
Leo and Finn shared a sheepish look. “Well, we may or may not have gone to your last active location and driven around every street around the area.
Logan had to try very very hard to not dissolve into tears for the umpteenth time. But his voice cracked as he set his cup down and said, “I don’t deserve you. Either one of you.”
Both his boys set their cups down on various surfaces and held him close, and in that warm, comforting embrace Logan decided he knew what it was to be truly, deeply, loved.
“You really scared the shit out of us today Tremz” came Finn’s muffled voice from Logan’s shoulder. “Promise me you’ll never pull any shit like that ever again.”
Logan squeezed them, trying to pull them closer, like he could merge their souls together, if only he tried hard enough. “I promise. It won’t ever happen again, I swear.”
Leo pulled away just a fraction, cupping Logan’s cheek and the fat tears rolling down his face made Logan’s heart crack in his chest.
“Lo I—I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared I—”
Leo gave up trying to finish his sentence and leaned forward to capture Logan’s mouth in a kiss. The kiss tasted of salt and sorrow and steadfast love, Logan knew he’d never get enough of this. Of them.
He felt a warm hand at the nape of his neck, tangling in the hair there, stroking carefully, and he pulled away to give Finn a kiss too.
“Thank you both. For everything.”
Finn’s eyes twinkled. “There’s nothing to thank us for darling.”
Leo kissed Finn’s cheek, pulling him closer. “You two want a movie to go with that hot cocoa?”
Logan chuckled. “You’ve just about read my mind nutty”
Finn laughed. “Disney movie marathon it is!”
The three of them settled closer together on the couch wrapped in warmth and love and each other, and Logan sighed happily, knowing he’d always come back to this, no matter what.
#whataboutmywriting#lumosinlove ocs#oknutzy#much hurt comfort#mostly comfort#we've gotten past the hurt#soft bois being soft bois :)
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friends - s.r. (pt. 1/2)
pairing: spencer reid x female reader
summary: pure angst - friends with benefits always ends up with one person scorn out of jealousy...and in this case, it’s spencer. especially when he sees you flirting with one of his BAU partners.
content warning: consumption of alcohol, indication of sex (no smut!), anger/trust issues, brief mention of blood
word count: 4.5k // part two
authors notes: lyrics = indicate a flashback!! ALSO this is completely inspired by the song “friends” by chase atlantic, so i recommend listening to it while you read! this part is all in spencer’s pov but the next one will be the readers pov ;)
SPENCERS POV
Sweat and tension hang heavy in the air as I sit in the bar, watching my co-workers from the booth. The condensation slides down my glass onto the table, creating a puddle around the cup. I run my fingers around in the ring of water, creating shapes on the table top.
“You know,” JJ says, taking the spot next to me in the booth. “If you’re going to come out with us, you should try to make conversation.”
“I think I’m okay,” I smile at her as she nudges me with her elbow. “Really, you don’t have to babysit me. Go, have fun.”
“Alright,” JJ says standing back up. Her eyes scan over me before she turns to gaze to the dance floor. Luke, Tara, Penelope, Emily, and (y/n) all dance together, obnoxiously close to one another (some more than others). “You should tell her how you feel.” JJ comments, swirling her drink with the straw in her mouth.
“What- who? What are you talking about?”
“C’mon Spence! You really think after all this time I still can’t read you?” JJ asks and I shrug, giving her a small smile. JJ leans down to me and whispers, “just go talk to (y/n)”.
I lean back on the leather seat and crack my back, even though I know that the constant cracking of my back actually causes adverse effects...but I do it anyway. I bring my eyes up from the table and my still sweating glass of water and glance over at the dance floor. JJ just reaches the team as they welcome her into their terribly coordinated group. This is the third time the team has gone out this month and the first time I’ve been here to witness the completely obvious flirt-fest between Alvez and (y/n). How do I even compete with someone like Luke? I was captivated by (y/n) from the moment I met her, but was too scared to even process a relationship with her. My brain couldn’t stop running over every possible scenario of what could go wrong if I asked her out...even just for a simple coffee after work. I couldn’t do it, and I knew I wouldn’t. Until (y/n) took it upon herself…
Girl, tell me what you're doing on the other side?
And so, just tell me what you're doing with that other guy?
Cause I ain't got patience to slow down the bass
“You going to O’Malley’s tonight?” (Y/n) asks, peering down at me from the corner of my desk. She sits on the corner of the wooden top, her legs swinging back and forth. I turn in my desk chair and look up at her. It feels as though someone sucked all the oxygen out of the room and I’m lost in her presence. She captivates me in a way that no one has. “Reid?” She asks again, waving her hand in front of my face. She tilts her head down and smiles at me, but waits for me to answer.
“‘M sorry, I-”
“It’s okay, I just would really like it if you came. That’s all,” she grins and hops off my desk onto the floor. “No pressure.” I swivel in my chair and follow her path behind me, my words get caught in my throat before I finally call after her, “I’ll be there!”.
-
“Y’know Spence,” (y/n) drunkenly whispers in my ear, even though she’s practically yelling over the loud bar music. It was only an hour after the team had gotten to the bar, but (y/n) was drinking as if it were her last drink on earth. “I like you…” she trails off, swirling her drink with the straw. She flips her hair over her shoulder and leans down on her arm to stare into my eyes. Her eyes are glossed over from the alcohol she’s consumed and clearly her filter is completely gone for the night. I laugh at her words and lean down to her, “I like you too, you’re easy to talk to, funny, you actually listen to my rambles. You’re a great friend, (y/n).” I practically choke the words out, and thank God she’s intoxicated otherwise she would have caught my inflexion on the word “friend”.
“No, no, no-” She sits up on her stool and glances around the bar. She spots the rest of the team across the restaurant before she continues talking, “I like-like you, Spencer. I like you a lot.”
“(Y/n), do you know what you’re saying to me right now?”
“Of course I do,” she takes a gulp from her drink. “I’ve wanted to tell you for months, but now I’ve got the liquid courage.” She winks and tilts the glass in my direction. I want to believe that this is truly happening, but I can’t. I want to throw caution to the wind and be with her, but I can’t. I don’t trust myself or my past. I’m no good for her.
“I think we should switch you to water,” I say as I raise my hand to the bartender. She reaches over my chest and grabs my arm, carefully avoiding my hand, shaking her head.
“No,” she says leaning in near my face. My heart leaps into my throat and I feel my pulse quicken as she inches closer to me. “Spence, you can give me all the water you want...but what I said won’t change.”
(Y/n) hops down from her stool to meet the rest of the BAU at the large table, but turns on her heel only a few steps away, “you comin’?”
-
“Hi,” I say as (y/n) swings open her front door the next morning. Her eyes are hooded, red and puffy as she shields them from the sun. Her once perfectly curled hair is now gathered into the messiest bun, as she stands in her beat-up FBI training t-shirt and paint-covered sweatpants. “I figured you would want something greasy, so I got you a breakfast burrito, but when you realize that isn’t the hangover cure, I got you a banana and nut mix with some Powerade.” I say, raising up two separate shopping bags.
“Oh my God, my head,” (y/n) whines, shuffling away from the front door plopping herself on the couch. “I was so fucked up last night.” She mumbles as her face is squished in between couch cushions.
“Yeah,” I shut the door as quietly as I can behind me. “You were.” I chuckle, setting the bags down on her kitchen island. I grab the Powerade from the bag and walk back to her on the couch. I squat down in front of her, tilting my head back and forth waiting for her to look at me. Eventually, she turns to face me and a smile creeps across her face. She whispers a quiet “hi” and I mimic back the word, “hi”. She slowly pulls herself up from the couch and pulls her legs into a cross-legged position. I pass her the Powerade and she rolls her eyes at me before opening the bottle.
“Remind me never to drink again,” she crips. “I have no filter when I drink. I mean, I literally told JJ I like Henry better than Michael...who does that?”
“Same person who confessed their love for me last night,” I mutter and my eyes go wide, heart dropping. Did I really just say that? (Y/n) practically spits out her drink and laughs.
“You’re kidding right? Spence-” She leans forward, panic running across her features as she tries to hide it with humor. “Spencer.” She says and I look up at her, “what did I say to you, Spencer? Tell me, oh God maybe I don’t want to know,” she stands from the couch and pads off into her bedroom. I stand up from my spot on the floor and follow her. “No, tell me,” she pivots and leans against her bed.
“(Y/n), you were drunk and I should have stopped you.”
“Spencer, what the fuck did I say?” She says sternly.
All your girlfriends are wasted
They need it, they chase it
Face it. You want it, you crave it
I shake my head clear of that night and let my eyes linger on her. From my spot at the table, I can perfectly watch the team dance their hearts out. (Y/n) dances to the rhythm of the obnoxious club music, her hips moving at a steady pace. Luke stands dangerously close to her as he follows her movements. (Y/n) spins to face him, her laugh bubbling out of her as Luke smiles down at her. She stands on her toes, whispering something to him, before Alvez throws his head back laughing at her. He leans down to talk to her again and (y/n) wraps her arms around his neck, bringing him even closer. The two of them move together now, completely tangled in one another as the songs continue. Luke trails his hands down her sides before they rest just above her waist. (Y/n) lowers her arms and quickly spins in Luke’s grip, her ass now practically grinding on him. Her dress rides up her thighs, inching closer and closer to her waist. The other girls cheer on the two, but JJ looks over her shoulder at me giving an empathetic smile. An anger builds up from deep inside of me and I grip my glass harder than is probably safe. I can’t be here anymore. I stand up abruptly from the bench and work my way through the crowds, desperate for some air and to see anything other than that.
Believe when I say that you'll know once you taste it
“I don’t-,” I start, but (y/n) stands from the bed.
“Don’t give me that ‘I don’t remember’ bullshit, because you can I both know you do,” (y/n) says in a way that leans more nervous and upset than angry.
“You said, ‘I like-like you.’” I choke out, while scratching the nape of my neck.
“What else did I say?” She asks, her eyes wide with embarrassment.
“That, you wanted to tell me for months but didn’t have the courage to.” I say, staring down at the floor before I look up to see (y/n) also keeping her eyes fixed on the hardwood floor.
“You know what they say about drunken confessions.” She mumbles, pulling her hands in front of her to play with her fingers.
“It’s been proven that alcoholic drinks cause neurological and psychological regression with the higher blood alcohol levels, so more hostile and truthful responses are common...but alcohol can’t necessarily make you feel new emotions.” I ramble on and (y/n) shakes her head at me.
“Did you know that or did you look it up after I confessed last night?”
“Both,” I answer and we both release our built up stress in a heartfelt laugh.
“Yeah well,” she rubs her arms. “I didn’t lie. I really do like you Spence,” she looks up and holds my gaze. “You don’t have to say anything, or feel anything… I just- I just wanted you to know for so long, and I guess now’s the time.”
Without hesitation I lean forward, my hands cradling her face and pull her lips to mine. Our mouths melt into one another quickly and I lose myself in her. My mind races through every possibility of what this means for us, but I try my best to shut it off and just be in the present. (Y/n) giggles against my lips, pulling away for a second to look at me.
“I like you too,” I smile down at her, while pushing a loose strand from her bun behind her ear. She grins and stands on her toes, capturing my lips again before we step backward, falling onto the bed.
All of your friends have been here for too long
They must be waiting for you to move on
Girl, I'm not with it I'm way too far gone
I'm not ready, eyes heavy now
I step out of the bar into the cool March air, the night temperature chilling my lungs as I breathe in and out rapidly. I lean against the brick wall of the building, pulling at my tie feverishly trying to get it off. I yank off the tie, untying it in my hands while resting my head against the wall. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale… When I open my eyes again, I look out across the busy street as couples pass by. Each one fixated on the other and my heart pounds in my ears.
“Spence?” A voice calls from near the entrance of the bar, “are you okay? I saw you run out, I-”
“I’m fine, (y/n).” I snap at her. She stands to my side, arms crossed, her hands running up and down to keep herself warm.
“Are you sure?”
“I said I’m fine.”
Silence settles betweens us for a moment before she steps forward, inching closer to me. We stand next to one another for a moment, both of us resting against the bar wall as cars continue to zip down the street.
“Alright, well if you’re fine, then I’ll leave you,” she sighs. (Y/n) steps back, heels clicking on the pavement as she approaches the bar.
“Do you like him?” I ask, staring down at the undone tie in my hands. She raises her eyebrows and her eyes scan over my face. “Luke. Do you like Luke?”
“Excuse me?” She asks, her hand resting on the door handle to the bar.
“I mean- it seems like you do.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” She drops the handle and turns to face me again.
“Nothing, you- you just were dancing and-”
“Oh my god,” she mutters through a laugh. “You’re jealous. Spencer, seriously?”
“I’m sorry that I can’t see you with other guys, it’s not fair for me to watch that. I can’t, (y/n).”
“Well,” she steps back, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “That’s not really my problem is it? You told me to, let’s see...how did you put it?”
She looks up as if she’s trying to remember the words, “ ‘Get over my feelings because we’re not together’? I believe that’s what you said.” She coolly states, quoting my words from days before. I stand against the wall stunned as I blink away tears.
“(y/n), I-”
“Spencer, please just don’t say anything else. You’ve said enough,” she grabs the door handle again and swings the heavy bar door open. She props it open with her foot and glances back at me, “just so we’re clear. None of this is fair, and I can dance with whoever I want.”
Heart on your sleeve like you've never been loved
Running in circles, now look what you've done
My cool fingertips run up and down her bare back, moving along her spine. Occasionally I trace shapes and words onto her skin as she lays against me. The hours pass as we stay in her bed, the world continuing on without us as we lay tangled together.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” I glance down at her. Her eyes flutter open as she looks up at me, keeping her head on my chest.
“Yeah? I bet I’ve wanted to longer,” she giggles, sitting up resting her weight on her elbow.
“Mmm,” I humm and pull her face to mine. Pecking her lips once, “I don’t think so.”
“No? Then why didn’t you say anything?” (Y/n) tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and rests her chin on my chest. Her big, bright eyes piercing into mine.
“I was scared,” I say truthfully and I feel as though a weight is lifted off of me. She tilts her head to one side as she waits for me to keep talking, “I don’t have the best relationship history. Actually, I don’t even have a history.” I take a deep breath and (y/n) smiles, tracing small hearts onto my chest with her index finger. “I- I just don’t know how to do this, (y/n). I don’t even know if I can…” I confess, but (y/n) doesn’t take her eyes off of me. She sits up slowly, the sheets of her bed gathered around her bare chest.
“Spence, I don’t know how to do this either,” she giggles. “But, I’m willing to try to figure it out with you...as long as you are.”
“Let me ask you this,” I say sitting up slightly, leaning against her bed frame.
“Oo yes, my favorite Dr. Reid phrase,” she says laying down under my arm. “Sorry, continue.”
“Do you think we could keep this between us? I’m just not ready for all of the pressure and conversations between the team.” She reaches up as I speak and twists one of my curls between her thumb and index finger.
“Of course,” she smiles and our lips meet each other again.
Give you my word as you take it and run
Wish you'd let me stay, I'm ready now
I close my eyes harshly and rub the back of my eyes with my knuckles, so hard that I see stars and swirls among the darkness. “Shit,” I shout, tossing the tie to the concrete, not caring where it lands. I swing my arms around, smashing my fist into the brick wall. “Fuck!” I whip my hands away from the wall, shaking my hand off. My knuckles are open, bloody, and throbbing. I fling myself off the wall again, headed back into the bar. My head is spinning and cloudy, but all I know is I have to get to (y/n). I have to apologize to her and tell her the truth. I need her to listen, I need her to understand, hell...I just need her. I pull open the wooden door and blasting music hits me like a wall. I shake my head at the change in volume and push through the crowds. I make a bee-line for the BAU’s table in search of any one of my team members. Penelope spots me first as she skips over in her brightly colored heels. “Reid, oh Reid! My personal genius! Come! Come,” she tugs on my shirt sleeve, pulling me closer to the back table. I turn my head back and forth, scanning over all of the faces in the crowd in search of (y/n). “Garcia,” I say, trying to put my heels down. “Where is (y/n)?” She ignores me and continues pushing us through the sea of people. Finally our table appears and Emily, JJ, and Tara sit in a semi circle shaped booth. “Found him,” she cheers, pushing me into the booth. She sits down across from me and turns to JJ. “Now shimmy over, I have a question for the good Doctor.”
“Garcia,” I practically beg. “Where is (y/n)?”
“Oh, sorry! She left with Newbie.” Penelope answers, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“No, Pen,” JJ glances up from her drink to meet my eyeline. “Not like that, Luke was just driving her home.”
“Are you kidding? Those two were hot-and-heavy on the dance floor. Totally into each other… Oh my god imagine their kids!” Garcia beams, clasping her hands together. JJ frowns, but nods at Penelope, not to give her any indication of my feelings. “So! Tara was telling me that alcohol actually-”
“Garcia,” I interrupt and stand up from the booth. “I’m so sorry, but I really have to go.”
Just give me some time and space to realize
That you, were busy lying, sleeping 'round with other guys
And what the hell were we?
Tell me we weren't just friends
This doesn't make much sense. No.
“Spencer for the love of God open the door,” (y/n) mumbles against my neck. Goosebumps rise in the wake of her words.
“I’m trying, but you’re distracting me,” I respond. The hotel keycard fumbles in my hands against the door as (y/n) lingers next to me.
“Oh I’m sorry, I’m distracting you?” She coyly asks, running her hands under my shirt. Finally the door chimes and swings open. “Thank god,” she says pushing past me into the hotel room. I shut the door behind us and within seconds, were connected again, our moans echoing throughout the empty hotel room. It’s been nearly four months since (y/n) and I decided to hide our feelings from the rest of the world. It’s safer and easier for both of us, but every moment with her makes me want to scream it from the rooftops. Everytime we sneak away to our hotel rooms on cases, share secret glances during profiles, bring each other coffee in the mornings, or just be around one another for longer than usual, my heart begs for more. The two of us agreed that with our jobs and personal struggles the easiest thing would be to enjoy each other when we could, but not stress ourselves about the labels. “Friends with benefits,” (y/n) would label it after we spent one of our first nights together. I hated the term, but by definition… it was true.
Moments pass by and before I know it we're both covered in sweat, tangled in the hotel sheets. We both collapse onto the bed, quickly trying to catch our breath. I plop down on my back, curls covered in sweat and slicked to my forehead. (Y/n) nuzzles into my side, our skin sticking to one another as she fits herself under my arm. My eyes get heavy and I continue to move my hands through her hair onto her bare skin. I reach over with my loose arm and flick the light off, before I bring my arm around her and pull her in closer by the waist. Minutes of silence tick by as both of us are drowning in sleep; I close my eyes letting the night time wash over me and (y/n) does the same. After a while, I feel myself losing to the tired, but before it completely consumes me I hear (y/n) whisper, “I love you”.
But I'm not hurt, I'm tense
Cause I'll be fine without you babe
The bar door swings open again with force and I step onto the sidewalk. The cold temperature chills me again, but I push through the air away from the restaurant. I have no idea where I am headed, but my legs carry me away from the doors and walk for blocks. Thankfully, I had walked to the bar tonight because I am way too restless and anxious to be behind the wheel. Before I know it, I’m in front of my apartment complex. I release a big sigh before climbing the steps up to my home. If I didn’t know any better, I would have ended up at (y/n)’s apartment on my hands and knees, begging for her to take me back. But this isn’t a fairytale, it’s life. Life of a traumatized FBI agent who’s terrified of commitment and loss. I turn my key in the front door and stumble inside the apartment. I toss my shoes by the door and walk through the living room, laying down on my bed as sleep washes over me.
Saturday morning comes only a few hours later, the day drags on as I lay on my bed fully clothed. I rub the back of my eyes with my knuckles before I feel an intense pain in my hand. Shit. I stand up from the comfort of my bed and walk into the bathroom, cleaning off my knuckles and the dried blood from the back of my hand. Pain sears through my hand, but I welcome it, the physical pain taking away from the hurricane going on in my head.
I walk out of the bathroom flipping over a stack of books near my desk. I can’t be trapped here anymore. I have to get out. I pull on a half-worn cardigan over my button up and flatten out my pants, grab my shoes by the door and leave.
Again, I find myself walking in the cool spring air, the streets beginning to fill with morning crowds. I walk the couple of blocks from my house to the BAU, knowing the offices will be empty on the weekend and I can have a space to work without my bed calling my name from the other room. I push open the glass doors to the BAU bullpen and practically collapse into my desk chair. I flick on the reading light and set my head down on the table top. Silence.
“Luke, if you don’t stop,” the words come from the doorway and a chill mixed with shock runs through my body. I whip my head in the direction of the voice and spot Luke and (y/n) laughing together....(y/n) in her dress from the night before. (Y/n) locks her eyes with mine and frowns, “Oh my god, Spence.”
—
oooo shiittttt!! two parter!! whatsss gonna happennnnnnnn ;)))))
part two
masterlist // requests
stay safe & wear a mask!! -m
#spencer reid#spencer reid fic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid x female!reader#dr spencer reid#dr Reid#spence Reid#spencer reid writing#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#criminals minds#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds writing#criminal minds angst
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