#like idk. maybe support the fics you do have and acknowledge all that work that's been done already

[kenzie-ann27]

read something kinda off-putting on twitter and now I'm sad :(

#it's something like. i can't say it cause it's easy to tell who said it. but idk #being a writer already is so frustrating and you're very unappreciated and like #it breaks my heart to spend weeks and weeks working on something just for people to say the tag is empty and they need more things to read #like idk. maybe support the fics you do have and acknowledge all that work that's been done already #i was fine and like. i'm selfish so i check the tags to see if people mention the 10.5k fic i JUST fuckin posted two days ago and no #it's just. idk i want to cry #and i don't mean for people to pity me but i worked hard but i am not popular at all so idk. i want to be acknowledged at least #fan writers do so much to keep a community going just for people to eat your work up like it's nothing #idk. it's nothing if it's me #maybe it's me. idk what i did for everyone to just ignore and avoid me so much. i #i see people want more post canon fics like okay i will write one. then they're over it by the time i post. then they're like oh so empty #then they want college fics. but if i write it then by the time i post it they want something else. and it makes me want to fuckin scream #is it just me? like do people just not like me idk. i wish they'd say so so i can pack up and leave and stop trying to please people #idk i'm just in a bad place. i'm tired and sad and i love writing but having written is just it feels like people stomping on my heart #idk i'm sorry i'm sorry

[propheticpotato42]

So there might be a canon answer to this but anyway: Do you guys think that Franky remembers Twilight from the war?

Like the two of them had an intense interaction that had an enormous impact on Twilight's worldview and honestly the entire trajectory of his life, and given Twilight's memory he 100% remembers Franky.

But the issue is the other way around, does Franky remember Twilight or that it was Twilight who was that other soldier? I don't doubt that Franky remembers the event, but I don't know if it had the same effect on Franky. In the interaction Franky's worldview wasn't really challenged by his conversation with Twilight, after all Franky did most of the talking. It can be that he remembers talking to a Westalian soldier and doesn't recognize the spy he's been working with as the same man, after all what are the odds of that?

Also would Twilight even talk to Franky about the war? Twilight is one of the most emotionally constipated characters in all of fiction and this is an incredibly vulnerable topic. So there is a chance that even if they both recognize each other that they've never verbalized it.

But also Franky is the only person in the series that isn't a member of WISE who Twilight trusts, not only trusts but depends on. I'd argue that Twilight relies on Franky more than he relies on anyone from WISE. Franky is involved in Strix not just as an informant but in a definitive support role. So maybe Twilight has talked to Franky in order to help establish that trust.

Also Franky may be the only person Twilight can talk to about the war. Yes Handler also has a lot of trauma related to the war but she's also his boss, whereas Franky is(even if Twilight won't agree) a friend.

I don't imagine that it was a particularly long conversation, something along the lines of Twilight acknowledging that he is in fact the same soldier Franky met all these years ago. I don't think that Twilight would acknowledge how important the interaction was to him, but if he did it would be idk sweet(?)

I think it would be nice if later in the series they have an actual conversation about the war and how what happened between him and Franky actually mattered to him. It would be an incredible moment of character growth and also a great insight into Twilight's psyche.

But yeah I really like this idea so yeah someone write this fic and send it to me please and thank you.

#spy x family #loid forger #twilight sxf #franky franklin #spy x family franky #spy x family twilight #sxf franky

[spittingbloodandscreaming]

oddly specific maybe, but could you please write a smut fic w habit and a reader thats the lead singer in a band? gn or ftm, either or X3

I love this one!! I'm so sorry for the wait :(( I hope you like it!! This is a the first time someone requested a ftm fic and I love it.

HABIT x FTM,lead singer Reader

WARNINGS: biting, blood, mild possessiveness, idk playful slut shaming?

I envisioned gerard ways stage performances when I wrote this I hope that comes through

The set had just ended, and lord was it a high-energy show. By the time you’re done packing up, you’re still covered in glitter and sweat, your throat is raw and sore, and all you can think about is falling face-first into the bed of your motel and sleeping for a week. And that’s just what you do.

Not long after picking up, you’re struggling with a finicky keycard. You sigh, jamming the keycard in the slot and shoving your shoulder against the door. Surprisingly, that worked. You open the door to see Habit sitting on the bed in the center of the room, staring you down with a sinister grin that you don't take the time to acknowledge. Instead, you walk straight to the bathroom, leaving the door ajar. As you wash your hands, Habit greets you in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe and staring you down. You give him a look as you shake the water off your hands, waiting for him to say something.

“I saw you out there. Pretty impressive, y’know.” His voice is plain, you can’t tell if he’s genuinely impressed or not. He seems bitter. You roll your eyes light-heartedly as you walk past him, sitting on the edge of the bed to take your shoes off. “Was the moaning into the mic really necessary though?” There it is! He’s being a jealous bastard. You let out a small laugh before tossing your shoes towards the door.

“Well, yeah, it’s written into the song.” You put your feet up on the bed, stretching yourself out and thanking everything that you chose semi-comfortable clothes to perform in.

“I know damn well it wasn’t! C’mon, you really did not need the fan service.” You aren’t paying much attention to what Habit’s saying, you’re more focused on the fact that he’s within perfect kicking range. So you kick him. Gently, of course, but enough to earn a surprised scoff. He throws his head back, putting the back of his hand against his forehead theatrically in mock betrayal. “I can’t believe you! First, you act like a harlot on stage, and now this! I just can’t believe you.” You scoff in response, putting your hand to your chest.

“Harlot?” You say in mild surprise. “Who do you think you are?” You sit up, supporting yourself with your hands behind you.

“Oh sorry, would you prefer manwhore? A complete and total slut?” You laugh, but Habit seems very committed to being serious. You take the opportunity to play tackle him, which quickly ends with you being pinned against the bed. He’s very proud of his victory, and you suppose you’ll let him have that. He moves to press a rather aggressive kiss to your lips, and that’s all it takes to make you aggressively aware of how this is gonna work out. You can’t help but wonder how much glitter is gonna be on Habit at the end of this. He trails one of his hands up your torso, landing it right on your throat for higher leverage. He squeezes lightly, just enough to constrict your breathing uncomfortably. He bites your lip, shoving his tongue in your mouth the second you open it. As soon as you let your guard down his hands are all over you.

Habit moans into your mouth, moving his knee in between your legs, pressing against your crotch. You yelp when he nips at your tongue, slapping his shoulder and getting your wrist pinned above your head as a result. He spends a while feeling you up like that before moving down to bite your neck, and he bites hard. You think he’s trying to rip out your jugular the way his teeth are digging into you, and when you try to shove him off, he just bites down harder. You’re so sure you’re bleeding, but by the time he gets off you his hand is down your pants, fingers toying with your tdick. He gives you a long, deep kiss before pulling away.

“Oh so loud rabbit. Tellin’ everyone around how good I’m making you feel, huh?” You nod, closing your eyes tight. It really shouldn’t feel this good, but being on the road and all, you haven't really been touched in weeks. He teases your entrance a while before shoving his middle and ring finger into you, angling everything just right—you just about cry, and he’s not even close to done yet. He’s not even making an attempt to stretch you out, he’s just looking for reasons to mock you for being sensitive. “Rabbit I’m surprised, you normally last a lot longer than this don’t you?” He speaks so condescendingly, leaning down, his cheek against yours, and you're pressed tightly against him. He couldn’t have been touching you for more than three minutes, and you’re already at your first whining orgasam.

Now, Habit is lifting you off the bed slightly, enough to get your pants down and as soon as they're off he's undoing his own. He just can't help it, I mean how else is he gonna prove you're his? You deserve a treat after such a good performance. Or maybe you deserve a punishment for painting yourself like that in front of so many people. Habit can't decide which, so he'll mix both. He barely has to line himself up he knows your body so well, and as soon as he's ready—which is the second he has the chance—he's ramming into you so hard you're about 80% sure he's gonna shatter your cervix if he goes on like that.

All of it aside, Habit still has you screaming and grabbing at the sheets like your life depends on it. He keeps his pace and intensity as he bends down to suck dark hickies into your neck. The combination of him biting—practically chewing on your neck and how full he's making you is almost unbearable. It's just not enough for Habit, though, so he has absolutely no choice but to reach a hand down and jerk you off. That sends you into an absolute frenzy—you're arching your back, pressing yourself against him and simultaneously trying to get away from him, and he's not sure if he's amused or annoyed by your defiance. He moves to grab both of your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head and getting more aggressive with his biting. This time, you know he drew blood, ‘cause when he comes up to kiss you it's dripping down his chin and smeared across his lips, and when he goes in for a kiss you taste it—salty and metallic.

Habit moves down to lick up the blood he drew, and as he does so he hits something just right it makes your dick twitch and throb against his fingers. He moves just a little faster, almost growling. “C'mon rabbit, cum for me cum on my dick.” You nod, moaning his name loud enough the people next door bang on the connecting wall. Habit laughs, leaning in to lick all the way up the side of your face.

“My good rabbit, huh?”

#everymanhybrid fanfiction #everymanhybrid smut #habit everymanhybrid #everymanhybrid x reader #habit x reader smut #everymanhybrid #habit x reader #slendererse x reader #slenderverse #slenderverse fanfiction #nsft fanfic #nsft

[apprenticestanheight]

I don't know if your taking requests still 😭 but I would kill for some reader and adam angst, like Adam and reader were in the trap and are both suffering with the aftermath of it, but they have eachother to help, fluffy and angsty💔❤️ but bit more angsty for reader, maybe PTSD triggers if your okay with that?.. thankyou!! I love your work and you're fr keeping my obsession alive 😭 idk what I'd do without your works, love you bb <3

We'll Be Okay- Adam Stanheight x gn! reader

Hi!! I love me a good post-bathroom trap centric fic (nearly all of mine for adam have been aus where he lived because I refuse to think otherwise) and writing this was a good distraction from my life as it is now so thank you for sending this in!

One thing before we get into it--Adam is where Lawrence was in terms of the trap, and the reader is where Adam was. They wake up in the bath tub like Adam did because I needed their fear of water to make sense and that was the way to do it.

Fic type- this is hurt/comfort with angsty elements

Warnings- mentions and depictions of undiagnosed PTSD (the reader does mention going to therapy eventually but that's not until the fic is near it's end as to my understanding, therapy wasn't that big of a thing nor was it normalized in a big way until the early-mid 2010s. Might also be wrong there but google refused to tell me very much so meh), depictions of flashbacks, mentions of a fear of the water and such hindering the ability to shower for longer than three or so minutes (make up wipes are used in place because it was my first thought), a mention of serial rapists (in terms of Jigsaws victims), mentions of guns and bullet wounds and guns misfiring, mentions of drowning and being shot into the bathtub, reader is afraid of water and the dark post-trap

TWO MONTHS POST BATHROOM TRAP

You'd escaped the bathroom trap with Adam two months before you found yourself standing in a garden in Jersey after having left your apartment for the first time in two weeks. You were wearing basic outfitting--a pair of black jeans, a white cable knit sweater because Jersey was finally cold enough for you to dig it out of your closet, black Dr Marten boots that you'd owned since high school and would never give up on despite the wear they'd accrued in the eight years since you'd graduated, a black cardigan and a white beanie because when Jersey was cold it was better to wear too much than wear too little.

You hadn't known what your goal of the day was when you'd woken up--grants that your closest friend had applied for for you to get funds after the traumatic incident covered your medical bills and had been covering your rent for the two months post escape. You were applying for jobs after quitting your other one because there were too many reminders of the trap there, but you'd decided the night before that you weren't going to go job hunting that day--but you knew you had to do something.

So, you got up. You did your best to shower--waking up in the bathtub and nearly drowning in it had hindered your capabilities to be under water for longer than three-ish minutes--and you told yourself that that was enough while you made sure you didn't stink by using make up wipes that smelled like your favorite scent.

You got dressed in the cable knit sweater you'd thrifted when you were eighteen, put on the black jeans you'd borrowed from a coworker that July but would probably never return, put on a couple of pairs of socks to help combat the cold while acknowledging that the Dr Martens you'd splurged on just a couple days before you were taken still needed breaking in. You grabbed the cardigan off of your coat hanger by the door, did up the three buttons on the waistline, and grabbed a hat when you remembered you needed to grab your phone and apartment and car keys before you left.

Then, you left your apartment. You decided to walk instead of drive and stopped by a local breakfast bakery because you'd been meaning to start supporting locally owned businesses anyway. You grabbed a cinnamon roll and your hot drink of preference, then you left the store and kept walking.

You found yourself standing in one of the only gardens in Jersey, the mornings frost dusting the grass in a way that makes it look almost more beautiful than it does in spring.

You breath in deep, the air bitingly cold, but you find yourself thankful for it. You've started noticing that you're thankful for a lot lately--after a couple of bullet wounds from Zepp and Adam both, you had to spend three weeks in the hospital just...healing.

The minute you stepped out of the hospital, you found your case wasn't quite old news and press just kept hounding you, going so far as to wait for you in the lobby of your apartment complex.

Coupled with that was the fact that you had to go to the police to give a statement while the events were still clear in your mind. Because of complexities on the force and with the Jigsaw case, your statements kept being interrupted because of how thin things were stretched even with the FBI on the case, so that occupied the first week of your second month out.

Then, it was a myriad of issues. You were too afraid to have the spaces in your place be dark, you couldn't handle being in the water for too long because Zepp had shot you into it when he shot you in the shoulder and the chest, being unable to move because Adam had misfired and shot you in the leg when the gun was within his reach and Zepp had tried to wrestle it away from him.

But, still. You took a deep breath in, watching the ground, and were grateful for that capability. Just like you'd thanked the barista who'd taken your order, thanked your luck that you'd woken up in your apartment rather than the bathroom like your nightmares had told you you would. Just like you would thank the first stray cat who ran up to you and rubbed their cheek against your hand when you extended it--Jigsaws aim had been to make sure you felt grateful for the life you got, and while it had left you traumatized, the innate urge to thank things that you'd taken for granted before seemed to come along with the fact that you'd survived.

You weren't grateful for the fact that you'd been trapped--the trauma you inherited along with the survival had kind of hindered that. Instead, your time was spent angered at Jigsaw for doing as he'd done.

"Y/N?" You hear your name being called, recognize the voice calling it instantly. "What are you doing in the garden? It's the middle of November."

You laugh a little bit as you turn to face him. "I don't know," you say. "I just--it's standing in the garden that will be relatively free of people until the spring or job hunting. I've been using a grant to pay my rent since we escaped, so I chose to do this instead."

Adam laughs a bit in turn, and you let yourself approach him.

He looks good--his hair has grown out a slight bit, he's got his camera slung over his hip. He's wearing glasses, too, and oddly enough they suit him.

He's wearing outfitting that you just think is so him--a pair of blue jeans, henley layered with a flannel or two, and a leather jacket. He looks better than good--he looks amazing.

"What do you do for work?" You ask in the interest of making polite conversation. "Are you still working as a--"

"PI? No," Adam says. "I work in photojournalism now. Don't even smoke as often as I used to, I get so damn terrified he's around and watching me."

You snort. "Oh, believe me, I can relate. I've debated adopting a dog recently but I'm too afraid that I'll see an old man sitting somewhere sketching away whenever I take them on a walk. I hate it, but it's the new normal so I guess all we can do is adjust."

"You could adopt a cat," Adam suggests. The two of you start walking toward the garden entrance. "Unless, of course, you decide to leash train them. In which case, just make sure they don't climb up a tree and I'm sure you'll be okay."

You laugh a little and realize that you haven't laughed so much since before the trap. It's a little disheartening, but you and Adam were dropped at two separate hospitals. You couldn't have talked to him before that moment, and you were going to cherish it and all the laughter it brought along.

"If I did adopt a cat, I would want to make sure I had a job beforehand. The grants my friend got me on can be used to pay for rent and other expenses but I don't want to adopt a cat using 'hey, you were traumatized and we can't fix that but here's some money!' money. You're able to apply for them up to three months after the incident, so if you're needing something to cover the rent and make sure you have adequate groceries from paycheck to paycheck, I'd look into it."

Adam shook his head. "Pfffffftt," he breathed. "What--rent money and grocery money? In this America? How foolish a thought!"

You laugh. You'd not experienced any trouble with putting food on your table thanks wholly to the grants, but before the trap you were making enough to cover rent and rent only and as such would frequent the foodbank nearest your apartment.

"Seems a luxury until you realize that living without roaches is, in fact, your right as a tenant. Does your new job at least pay you enough to move somewhere?"

"They gave me a place, actually! It's near my job and the rent is cut from my paycheck. I get five hundred for groceries which goes a long way when one is shopping sales and at places like Aldi," Adam says. "I'm also using a company owned car--my friend Scott knows someone who knows someone else. Got an interview, didn't flunk my way through it, and now I've got a solid set up, I think."

You smiled. You were so happy for him.

When you're within a foot of the exit, Adam sidesteps, gestures at it and lets you through first with a sarcastic grin on his face. "The one who's got more bullet wounds gets to leave first," he says as you exit.

"I don't have that many more than you do," you say.

"You have four," Adam says. "Two in the chest, one in the shoulder, one in the leg. I have one--a shoulder wound is nothing, especially considering that Zepps aim was off."

You smile close-lipped at him, and Adam shakes his head.

"I know," he says. "Too soon. 'M sorry I didn't visit you--I meant to find your number in the phone book after I'd gotten out of the hospital, but I didn't know if you'd gotten out yet and I didn't want to leave a voice message. Doing so would've felt pathetic, I think."

"It's all right," you said. "I was a mess until my last four days in--had I seen you, I think that I would've needed to be sedated. John definitely got to me in a way that was not very fun at the start."

"You're on a first name basis with him now?" Adam asks, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"Oh yeah," you said. "Kramer and I get coffee every Wednesday, and I hear all about the relatively innocent people he plans to put into his murder machines. Not a lot of photographers, though--you must've been a one-off."

Adam snorts and you laugh, leaning against him a bit. It's like something in your dynamic has cracked, returned you to the people you were in the bathroom--Adams sarcasm, your riffing off of his responses and hitting back with your own. The difference is that Adam found the key to the chain around his foot in a cracked and lifted area of the floor two feet away from where the chain on his foot kept him, and left after finding that the key required for the cuff on your foot was different. You were stuck for a few days before Kramer and one of his accomplices freed you after asking if you'd held out hope and when you responded yes desperately because you were dehydrated and hadn't eaten and you were bleeding out.

Adam sighs. "I have to get to work, but I'll call you, okay? You have a landline?"

"Yeah," you nod. "It's the number beside my name in the phone book."

Adam nods. "Okay," he says.

And then you're watching him go, and the coldness of reality is returning.

FOUR MONTHS POST BATHROOM TRAP

In the months that follow, you end up with a job working in marketing. Adam calls your landline and you give him the number associated with your flip phone. You start meeting for coffee when your shifts line up and let you do so before or after work, and on the weekends and most weekdays you two are inseparable until midnight comes and you're telling Adam to call you in the morning while you go about your nighttime routines.

Adam stays over on the weekends, or you stay at his. It depends on who's place the coffeeshop or bar you go to after work is closer to because the two of you take turns choosing where.

When, two weeks into your second month post escape, you adopt the pair of stray kittens you find in the dumpster behind your apartment, Adam starts picking coffeeshops that are closer to your apartment than his own.

The cats are both boys and are named Cinnamon and Nutmeg for their brown coats. Cinnamon is completely brown all over and blue eyed, whereas Nutmeg is a calico that has shades of brown all over his back, paws, face and tail, where white is on his tummy and neck area.

Adam has spent more time taking photos of them than he'll willingly admit, but as time develops he also has a ton of photos of you doing anything and everything--opening the windows, falling asleep while you two watch a bad horror movie, doing some work from home, making coffee and tea, holding a joint, making breakfast, eating an edible.

He also realizes as time goes on that you are a lot worse off than he is. Three months in and you can't stomach the thought of going to the part of Jersey where the trap was located. You can't exist in spaces absent of light for too long, you look over your shoulder constantly because you're afraid that the act of lighting a cigarette while in a public space will have you trapped again. You cry a lot and are sometimes terrified to be in your apartment because you were taken from there, just like Adam was.

There are days where something sets it off and you're thrown off kilter so bad that you have a panic attack. Nutmeg the cat is very receptive to moments like that one, often rushing to your side with Cinnamon the cat on his toes, ready to press his face against your tear stained cheeks while you idly pet at the fur on the top of his head, and Adam lights the lavender candle you use because the scent of lavender is calming.

Three months in and Adam is suddenly fond of notebooks because he likes to keep track of the things that trigger it for you. Winter-era power outages from the wind are not at all helpful in your recovery post trap, he discovers. You hate it, even with the candles lit. You cannot stand living in the dark--it reminds you of waking up in the bathroom, waking inside a full bathtub with your foot chained to a pipe on one side of the room while Adam was chained to one on the other. You can't stand the smell of the sewage in downtown Jersey or the smell of the dumpsters behind your apartment building because it smells too much like the bathroom. You get anxious about the idea of taking baths and being submerged in the water and find showers difficult most days.

You thank baristas and hold the doors open for people. You thank Nutmeg and Cinnamon whenever they cuddle up next to you or in the all-too-common instance that Nutmeg tries to use kisses as a reason for you to feed him two dinners. You laugh at dogs in the park doing silly stuff and you love the taste of coffee. You watch the news warily whenever a new Jigsaw victim or survivor comes out of the woodwork and you love the job you ended up with. You can't stand the sight of Walkmans or the sound of cassette tapes. You seem to thrive off the sound of Adams laugh in the way he thrives off yours.

By the fourth month, Adam has realized that his lists of the things that set you off and their solutions have just become lists of things you do and don't really notice while you do them--the smile on your face when you feed Nutmeg and Cinnamon or choose to donate a dollar to whichever charity when you and Adam are ordering your coffee from the coffeeshop you've both taken a liking to near your apartment.

The way that you look when you're baking or the way that you look when you watch the sunset, the sound of your laugh in the mornings.

The way that you look when you've just woken up and are registering the fact that Adams hand is carding through your hair because he's been awake fifteen minutes longer than you have. The sheer excitement you seem to radiate while you make your first cup of coffee of the day, the serenity that takes you over whenever the two of you watch the sunset from Adams fire escape, the way that you lean against him, arm looped through his elbow, when things get too much or when the world gets too quiet.

His lists of the things that he likes about you and the ones about things that set you off are eventually put into two separate notebooks after a while of meaning to separate the two things and have two different styles--the ones of things he likes about you are rambles. They go on for pages at a time and there are more run on sentences than there aren't.

The lists of things that trigger your trauma responses are simple--Adam writes the trigger and the solution.

Staying in the dark for too long--consider buying a small lamp for corner of room as Christmas gift, light candles, open windows (cold is good--Y/N likes the cold. Helps keep them grounded) play shitty 80s horror movie so that there's light from the tv

The smell of sewage and dumpsters behind apartment complex--avoid the areas of Jersey where the sewage is prominent, tell Y/N to plug nose and breathe through mouth when taking the garbage down

They're simplistic in their own right, complex in that too, but they're good.

Adam is holding a six pack of donuts and a tray with two coffees from your favorite local breakfast bakery when he opens your door, startled to find it unlocked. Your apartment door was always locked unless Adam called beforehand and you knew you'd be in the shower when he showed up, thus unable to let him in, but he'd not called that morning. He knew you didn't have to work and neither did he, so the fact that your door was unlocked set him on edge almost instantly.

He proceeds in with caution, setting the coffee and donuts on your coffee table. Nutmeg the cat meows at him before starting in the direction of your fire escape, the curtain drawn to a close over the window through which you got to it. When Nutmeg turns around to make sure Adam is following, Adam starts to.

He pulls the curtain over your window back, blinking a little in the surprise he feels as he realizes that it's mostly closed. Your back is pressed against the railing, your body facing the window, your eyes closed but your face tilted skyward.

Adam opens the window, steps onto the fire escape. He closes the window behind him after gently shooing Nutmeg the cat indoors so that he doesn't have to deal with the cold bite of Jersey in January.

"Y/N?" He asks in a voice that's barely above a whisper. He's helped you through panic attacks as you've helped him through the same, but he's never seen you like that before.

Your eyes open. You don't look at him.

"Do you ever get nightmares?" You ask.

Adam inhales sharply. His capabilities as far as sleep are concerned have been detrimentally affected since he escaped the bathroom trap. He went from getting somewhere just past the seven hour threshold on weekdays and nine or ten on weeknights to nightmares no matter how mundane the day. Because of the nightmares, he'd averaged out to three or four hours a night, two on his worst and five on his best.

"Every night since I left," he says. "When I escaped, I had a nightmare about leaving you behind--which, I did at first. I'm sorry about that, by the way."

You were chained to a pipe near a bathtub. Adam had been chained to a pipe near the door. Adam had found the key in a cracked and lifted part of the floor about two feet away from him after several hours of bickering and telling Adam to shoot you despite his protests. That day had been one of the worst days of your life.

Still, four months after your escape and well into a January in the city of Jersey, the days you spent starving to death, fading in and out of consciousness and bleeding from four wounds barely managed to top that.

"I didn't have too many," you say. "Not until recently--went for a three month visit to check on the wounds in my chest. Think that spurred me on a little, and I've been having them for three weeks now."

"What are yours about?" Adam asks.

You meet his gaze. Adam is startled to find that he can probably drown in the relief he feels as you do, following it by a gentle shake of your head and a smirk while you stretch your right leg out, crossing your ankle over his left foot. Adam presses his back against the window and idly wishes he could smoke.

"Nah," you say. "Nope. You first."

"Leaving you behind, mostly," he admits. "Some are about one of us being put into a trap again, the other of us being forced to watch them die. Mundane stuff compared to what old man Jigsaw is known for, right?"

You laugh. "Mine are somewhat the same," you say. "You leave me behind, but it's your choice to do so. Others center around my experience escaping, most are about drowning in the bathtub while you hold me, though. Sweet stuff--you're sobbing and you kiss my forehead and you ask the sky 'why, why them?'"

Adam snickers. "Had that been how it happened, I absolutely would've done that," he says. "God isn't really someone I believe in, but I would've stopped believing in him had you died. I uh--well, people have been put into Jigsaw traps for worse than us, right?"

"Worse reasons, and pettier ones, too," you say. "You spy on people, I fudged the data on a couple of marketing reports when my old boss promised me a raise, which you ended up investigating."

You approach and Adam welcomes your embrace, settling with you sitting against the fire escape railing by the window, one of Adams legs up and your leg tucked beneath it while the other sat near his foot, your foot resting against his calf.

"We're going to be okay," you say. "I mean--not now. Probably not by March, but we will be, I think."

Adam scoffs. "You think?"

"I don't know," you shrug. "Nothing is certain, really, but if I'm remembering correctly, 'time heals all wounds' was, in fact, my senior quote. Either that or something from a Jane Austen novel."

Adam laughs, presses a kiss against your forehead. You relax for a minute, eyes closing as you breathe the cold air in and whatever kicked up that trauma response seems to settle.

"For the record--I think we'll be fine," he says. "I mean, my margin for fine is a little on the low end, but I really do think we'll get there one way or another. We have to."

You grin at him, take his hand.

An unspoken truth exists there--you'll be okay if you have each other. You'll claw your way to okay if you have to, but you'll get there and you'll do with hands entwined, no matter how exhausting it becomes.

SIX MONTHS POST BATHROOM TRAP

You were working. You liked your job. Yours and Adams romantic relationship had been going on for a month when you decided to turn on the news on a crisp evening somewhere near the second week of March.

Another case. Another victim and survivor both, another instance wherein Jigsaw completely evaded capture and no leads on his location are findable.

Sometimes, despite the number of good days you have, you have bad ones, too. Adam is the same--his trauma isn't as bad as yours in the long run, but sometimes his nightmares throw him for a loop or he finds the darkness too unsettling or he gets too close to the part of town where the trap was without realizing until it's too late.

You both have your bad days and your bad weeks, and you've both come to rely on each other during those times. Adam knows how to get you onto the ground again when you feel like you are floating outside of yourself, and you know how to help him when his nightmares have left him helpless, drowning in the thought that he'd left you to die alone in the bathroom.

Adam knows your signals well enough, which explains the closeness he keeps to you when he shows at your apartment after his shift where yours had ended only forty-five minutes beforehand and you'd been home for all of thirty.

You'd managed to take a shower in that time, but in combination with your trauma exacerbated by a nightmare when you'd slept the previous night, it still left you reeling. Every drop of water against your skin was another reminder of the fact that you'd been shot into the bathtub, would've drowned if not for the fact that Adam pulled you out in a panic.

So, you were standing in your living room, your hair was damp. the news was on in the background, some reporter droning on about the specifics of the newest set of survivors and the victims who'd been identified thus far.

You were wearing a pair of adidas joggers and one of Adams hoodies, socks covering your feet because your floors were always cold. You were asking Adam if he wanted to order a pizza while he interlaced your fingers and nodded, pulling you back toward him when you started walking away and pressing a kiss to your forehead when you melted into his embrace for a split second.

You ordered the pizza while your brain was still trying to process everything, some part of you wanting to go back to watching the news despite knowing that such probably wasn't in yours or Adams best interests.

Once the pizza was ordered, you and Adam went to your living room. Adam looked at you how he looks at you when he's trying to determine the best way to help and ends up pulling you close, the two of you swaying along to the tune of the weatherman reporting the next week of Jersey springtime temps.

You're shaking, still a little on edge. You've been the way that you are for six months, and in those six months you've tried everything that you can short of going to therapy.

You bought melatonin gummies to combat the fear of falling asleep and thus falling victim to another nightmare and you take them as the fear sets in.

You've started gradually working on your fear of water rather than doing as you used to--forcing yourself under the shower head and trying to wash and condition your hair while in the midst of a panic attack--and you're slowly starting to work on your fear of the darkness, though you doubt you'll ever again find solace in it like you used to.

Adam, though, is a delightful constant in a life that, before your trap, was almost completely absent of them. You see each other daily, have each others backs and can read each other like neither of you can read anyone else.

Adam knows you inside and out, and that's why he knows to keep close while you sway, hands interlaced in order to keep yours from shaking.

Externally, you just seem like a couple in their mid twenties, swaying along to the music in their hearts while the news talks in detail of the latest local and global tragedies.

Internally, though, you're stuck in the bathroom again. Your chest is stinging with the reminder of the two bullets that were shot into it. Your leg aches like the wound is new and your shoulder begs for a reprieve from the burn of a bullet wound.

Internally, you're watching Adam try to jam the key into the lock attached to the chain on the cuff attached to your foot. He's angry because it's not working and you're begging him to go because you don't want him to see you bleeding out.

You're telling him "If you go, you have a shot at saving me. Go and get help, Adam. Please."

And he's responding. "I'm not going to leave you behind," and your hand is against his face, one of his is on your hip and you're both covered in blood that is his and yours both. Zepp Hindle is dead. The doors have slid open and Adam can go.

You push him away. "Please," you croak.

And then you watch Adam go, hope leaving you as he turns his back after promising that he'll come back and find you, even if it kills him.

Internally, you are once again the person who fell into murky bathtub water, and you're hearing Adams shouts as Zepp tries to drown you but Adam fights him off and yanks you out.

Internally, you are person startled awake by the feeling of two hands against your shoulders. You're mumbling Adams name.

"No," says a grizzly voice. It's the kind that just...has to belong to an older guy, the kind that you would hear from some sixty year old who'd chainsmoked his way through the previous ten years of his life.

"I have a question for you, Y/N," the voice is saying. "Have you held out hope for Adams return?"

In your bouts of consciousness, the first thing that you've spoken has been his name. "Yes," you're croaking, voice raspy from the disuse and the fact that you haven't drank water in days.

"Congratulations, then. You've passed your test, and it is time you got to a hospital."

Internally, you're hearing the sound of keys being inserted into the lock on the chain that holds your foot captive. You're being carried bridal style out of the building by a woman, dropped into an SUV. You're blacking out, starving and dehydrated, while you're driven to the hospital.

Then Adams voice meets your ears. "Y/N?" One of his hands moves to the small of your back. Your hand starts shaking but Adam moves it to his face, your thumb against his top lip. "Come home. We aren't in the bathroom--not anymore."

You're breathing in. Your eyes are opening as you trace your thumb over Adams lips. Adam steps just a little closer as your hand moves from his lips to his shoulder. You're careful not to touch the wound there.

"We're okay," Adam says. "It's been six months. Today, actually--it's the six month anniversary. I made it out and I called for help while I was sitting on a gurney in the ambulance. I didn't leave you behind, I promise. I told you I wouldn't and I didn't."

Despite the inklings of progress you've made, Adam senses that the reassurance isn't bringing you back like it's meant to. He tries to think of what you'd told yourself after a series of flashbacks--he's got it written somewhere, and despite himself, knows it almost like the back of his hand.

"Your name is Y/N L/N," he starts. "It's been six months since you escaped the bathroom trap, which you were placed into on September 10th, 2004. You were put into the trap because you fudged data for the promise of a raise that you desperately needed because your boss had lowered your pay to the point where it was either covering rent or eating on payday."

You did it like that--your name, the duration of time since you'd left the trap, the day you were put into it, the reason. That was always how it started.

"You are twenty seven years old," he continues. "You have two cats named Cinnamon and Nutmeg and you thank everyone for everything all the time. You say sorry a lot, too, and you like weed but you find nicotine a little disgusting because of how it tastes and the headaches smoking leaves behind.

"You like the coffee and baked goods from Maries on the corner of Cornelia and 45th. You hate the water and you hate the dark and you hate being left alone when the loneliness of that sets in, but you love things too. You love sunrises and sunsets, the smell of coffee and Jersey in the winter."

You squeeze his shoulder a bit, press your forehead against it. Adams hand moves from your lower back up to your shoulder, falling down your arm. He gives the hand of yours that is still tucked into his a squeeze.

"You love it when Nutmeg meows at you, the way that Cinnamon always runs to the good spot for sunbathing in front of your fire escape," he says. "You love late nights and the opportunities they give you in the realm of stealing my sweaters. You love cinnamon buns and music and the sound of birds chirping, and in an unexpected turn of events, your favorite movie is 1987s 'The Princess Bride'. You escaped the trap and we're in your apartment, we've ordered food, and everything is as okay as it can be right now."

You take a deep breath in. Adam squeezes your hand again, presses a kiss to your forehead.

"You surprisingly put up with my music taste despite the fact that ours differ," he says. "And you survived. You survived, Y/N. We both survived, and that has to count for something, at least."

Internally, the flashback ends. You exist outside of yourself for a solid thirty seconds more before Adams lips against your forehead brings you back to the ground.

"Thank you," you say, offering a weak smile. Adam grins back, reassuring and warm.

"Anytime," he says.

Six months in, things are okay. They could definitely be better, but they're okay enough and that's what really matters.

TWELVE MONTHS POST ESCAPE

The six months to follow are relatively decent--Adam moves into your apartment and his paycheck is bumped up significantly as he's not living where the company was paying for him to.

You find a therapist you like in order to work on your residual trauma and start going in every Saturday from two to four. You and Adam buy Cinnamon and Nutmeg a cat tree almost as tall as the wall in your living room and every single morning becomes one full of tired, groggy voices, hugs from behind and the sound of exhausted laughter.

The morning of September fourteenth comes quicker than you or Adam had expected for it to, but you try to go about your day as normal. Jigsaw is still at it, wherever he's ended up. You wake that morning to news of a detectives disappearance and one of his past victims having been tested again. There were two survivors in total--Amanda Young and Daniel Matthews, the son of the missing detective.

You try not to let it dampen your mood and decide to order breakfast rather than make it--you have the day off, as does Adam. You took it because you figured it wouldn't be a very good day and Adam took it because he wanted to suffer with you, in his words.

Off the bat, there's nothing that triggers it. Sure, the news has you in a tizzy as you discover that a group of people was placed into what evidence is reportedly calling "The Nerve Gas House," and you feel a moment of resentment for the fact that all of it is being sensationalized by the media, but that barely scratches the surface. It doesn't trigger much more than mild anxiety and resentment as you really start thinking about it. More people dead. Two left alive.

You wonder how Eric feels, how Amanda feels--both of them are being bombarded by the media just like you and Adam were, and you remember that much as though it were yesterday.

The true crime reporters were a different kind of ruthless, some of them trying to visit you while you were still in the hospitals recovery unit. News reporters also kind of sucked, but then it seemed like everyone wanted a scoop, and you could recall being told to "savor your fifteen minutes of fame" once by one of the particularly ruthless reporters who tried to visit you, even going so far as to open the door to your hospital room and enter while you were high on morphine and still being hydrated through an IV.

The entire thing has made you angry in recent months--Jigsaw, you can admit, puts a very wide scope of people into his traps. It ranges from people with a history of drug addiction or people like you who'd committed relatively minor offenses for decent reason to serial rapists and people who were the direct cause of someone elses death.

The ones who survive his traps are usually left with something to serve as a consistent reminder. For you it is back-of-the-mind worry about things in relation to your heart because two bullets were lodged there for several days. For Adam and you alike, it is the fact that you feel the bad weather before the bad weather hits because you'll get pain in your legs and your shoulders. For others, its the scars that self mutilation has left behind, sometimes even as far as consistent reminder of the loss of a limb coupled with the trauma and the responses developed from it.

So--the thing that makes you angry about all of it is that people survive the things that Jigsaw puts them through, and then, traumatized and having been given a hefty medical bill, the media circus will start. They'll be harassed by reporters as they walk down the street or after giving their statement to the police and the harassment will just continue until the next case comes around.

But, you suppose its better to digress. You turn the news off as you get a call that your food has arrived. Adam, having woken up and taken a shower only to get redressed into a pair of sweatpants and one of the baggy cableknit sweaters you loved digging out of your closet come the first of September, gets it from the door and thanks you for ordering food.

You sit and eat your breakfast while laughing at Cinnamon as he tries to steal Adams bacon, where Nutmeg the cat has settled between your side and the corner of the couch, head on your thigh as he purrs because you'd given him a few pieces of shredded cheese earlier, when you were snacky before you stepped into the shower and braved your way through standing under the water longer than five minutes.

Adam looks to you for help, and you shrug. "You're the one who took it upon yourself to feed him a small piece of bacon when he was nine weeks old," you say.

He laughs a little, holding his bacon egg sandwich in the air and laughing at Cinnamons persistence as he jumps from Adams lap to his shoulder, stretching out over Adams arm.

"I aided in the raising of a demon cat," he says. "You adopted a demon cat."

"I adopted two demons," you said. "I just don't happen to like bacon and Nutmeg calms down when I give him a little shredded cheese once every few weeks."

Adam shakes his head and relents, ripping a small piece of bacon off and letting Cinnamon have it. He's able to eat peacefully from there, Cinnamon settling on the couch cushion behind him.

You eat breakfast in a medley of calmness, talking about work and the apartment and getting snippy at one point, Adams sarcasm coming into play and you reminding him of how quick witted you can get when you riff off his sarcasm like it's nothing. You both mention how good a walk in the gardens sounds while the gardens are still walkable and not bitten by frost, but don't end up deciding to go right then.

There comes a point where Adam moves closer to you and you curl against his side and there's a silent knowledge that passes over you.

The one year anniversary of Adams escape was four days ago. The one year anniversary of your escape is today. Three days exist between the 10th and the 14th, all of which you spent alone. You were alone in that hospital, just as Adam was alone in his. Neither of you had reached out to your families beyond a few stunted phone calls, but you were still alive. A year gone and you were still standing.

Adam presses a kiss to your forehead. "'M sorry I left."

"I told you to go."

"I know, but I feel like I should've stayed."

You turn to look at him, shaking your head. "No," you say. "Had you stayed, we both would've failed and we would've been left for dead. You left because I begged you to go, you got to stay alive, and so did I. We both passed the test that Jigsaw set up for us and now we're here. You can't wallow in the what-ifs, okay? I already know how it would've ended had you stayed and I am relentlessly glad that you didn't."

You press your forehead against his. He grabs your hands. You interlace your fingers and give his hands a squeeze. Of course that day was not going to be an easy one--a year gone already? A year of nightmares, of flashbacks, of good and bad moments both, passed you by like it were a blink.

"We're okay," you whispered. "And we're okay because you left. You left, Adam, and you saved my life."

You pull away, meet his gaze. He's looking at you like you're the love of his life and he hates that leaving you was something he had to do at all.

"We're okay," you whisper.

"We're okay," Adam nods.

To tell the truth of it, you're not sure whether or not you're lying to yourselves. If you are lying to yourselves, however, then the lie is pretty damn convincing.

--

You and Adam end up walking through one of the only gardens in Jersey as the sun goes down. It's the first time you've been to the garden in ten months, and the ten months that have passed have been ones that were good, bad, everything.

Adams hand is interlaced with yours. Your cheek is against his shoulder. Things don't really feel okay, but you know that they will start to eventually.

But, there is also the truth within that that 'okay' is not a constant. There will be moments of your life wherein the thing in its entirety comes crashing down upon you, moments where you feel like breathing is a struggle, like blinking will make you exhausted. There will be moments wherein you're okay, moments where okay elevates to good. Good elevates to great, and great elevates to amazing.

There is not one constant state of feeling or emotion, there is not one constant state of being. Things will fluctuate, as they do, and as Adam lifts his camera to snap a photo of a stray cat, you think, for the first time since your escape, that you're fine with that.

Whatever the next phase of your life looks like, whatever it means for the trauma that still lingers from your time spent in the bathroom trap, you can handle it. With Adam by your side, with your apartment and the adorable cats you adopted two and a half months after you'd been dumped at a hospital with severe bleeding, blood loss, and several bullet wounds, you can handle it. Whether or not you'll be okay throughout all of that time, you'll handle it, and that's what matters.

#adam stanheight #adam stanheight x reader #saw 2004

[theold-ultraviolence]

Hey besties! I debated whether or not I should make a post about it cause I don't want to seem dramatic lfjlskgsjdg, but I figured a lot of people follow me for my writing, and well, there hasn't been any writing going on lately (lol) and I don't even know if there will be, at least for a long while. I think I just might go into a little bit of a hiatus there because, I don't feel like writing anymore for a number of reasons, mostly because this year has been incredibly tough for me and my brain is absolutely mush. I want to write, but I can't physically bring myself to do it, even if the will is there and the ideas are overflowing. I'll still be here and everything (I have never made a side blog, all my silliness goes into one same place lmao), and if questions about my aus come up and stuff, I'll love to reply to those and brainstorm/fangirl about ideas together, but I can't say the same about actually posting fully formed stories.

Another thing is that I'm kinda burned out from fandom. Life is hard as it is and while fandom in general is amazing there are just parts of that suck, even from a distance. The discourse, the cliquey-ness, the hate people are receiving, the drop in interaction... I've always been cruising through different fandoms and avoid drama because I'm always in my little corner, but even while keeping to my corner, this is the first time that without even engaging in it, its found me? An interaction I had some months ago with someone just left a really bad taste and a weird feeling about posting stuff and not knowing with whom I could talk to, so I just distanced myself from it. Which is also kind of a bummer because I don't think I even had that much of a presence in the beginning? I don't want to seem like I'm whining, but, the reality is that my name rarely ever gets brought up in rec lists/posts and such, so it's kinda daunting to think that my work may not have as much transcendence in the fandom anyway when I've been here for a long while, and it does feel a little bit like, feeling left out, which bums me out. But ultimately, worrying about being active and posting fics regularly is just, such a silly thing to worry about when there are other things happening in life anyway.

This is not to say that I'm not acknowledging the people that have supported me from the beginning and continue to do so. If you've reblogged my stuff, or contacted me via dm or ye old inbox, know I freaking love and adore and appreciate you and that's what's exactly what's given me the motivation to write when things were tougher for me this year. It truly, truly means the world to me, and I consider you a bestie. It's so freaking special to me, every single time, when you reach out to let me know you enjoyed something I posted or that you're having fun with my ocs. So this part of it all is why I wished I was more active and that I had the energy to keep writing to interact with you, but I'm just not in the headspace for it right now.

And idk I just might be feeling a bit sensitive these days and becoming a bigger hermit each day, Ewan Mitchell style (lol), but I had it in the back of my mind that there are people that follow me for my writing, and that have even requested fics after I closed them, so I wanted to give these moots a heads up. I do have a lot of ideas I was excited about, not to mention tons of wips that have been left gathering dust so maybe in the near future I can find some time to write. I'm just not feeling inspired or motivated at all these days. If you're sticking around despite my blog being a whole mish-mash of spooky things and whatever blorbo is rotting my brain at the moment, you're seriously the best and I love you for it.

#don't reblog

[steventhusiast]

Fanfic Tag Game

tagged by @hbyrde36 for this lil tag game EEEE i love tag games :D

-

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

12. a lot of them aren't stranger things related tho! and they're allll oneshots. working on my first (first for this account anyway) multi-chapter fic atm :D

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

27,486 hoooo boy idk if that's more or less than expected. like i said, mostly oneshots!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

currently only writing stranger things fics, but every now and then i go back to my spider-man phase so i'll inevitably write spider-man fanfic again. i've also written moon knight (tv show) fanfic before. i just love when my blorbos suffer what can i say

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

NONE of these are stranger things fics fdhgskjfhd

When Peter Forgot What Day It Was

Debriefed

Protector

When the Past Calls

Avengers, Meet Moon Knight

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i try to! i didn't for a while because i didn't know how to respond to like, comments with just emojis? i've always appreciated them but yeah only started trying to respond to ALL comments recently. love comments so much, so i want to encourage as much as possible!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

hmmm idk i tend to write hurt/comfort, like it ALWAYS ends with some sort of happy. so idk. i mean there is To All The Days We Were Together (To All The Time We Were Apart) which i'm SUPER proud of and that is super sad because it acknowledges eddie's canon death while also being a steddie fic. poor stevie

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

hmmmm maybe Google Translate? it's not got LOADS of plot in it it's just a cute lil meet cute.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

gonna also knock so hard on wood for this, but so far no. i've received a comment pointing out how i've gotten various cultural aspects wrong before and just corrected, but never something hateful. i'm definitely VERY afraid of getting hate though. i am fuelled by validation

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

no, i kind of want to give it a try though? i used to write it (like when i was fifteen/sixteen LMAO) and the things i wrote did well but,, obviously i didn't know anything? you know? idk maybe i should give it another go

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

not really? crossovers feel like BIG projects and i haven't really done a big project yet

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no. i've had people request to translate my fics before though? which doesn't count but like,, feels weird because i think one time (when i was writing on wattpad), the person didn't even ask they just started publishing my fic translated and didn't credit me.......... was so strange

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

LMAO yes. both with permission and without as mentioned. i don't mind it if people ask, you know! i just have to make sure it links back to me- it's my work

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

i don't know, this is a hard one. steddie right now,, but like. i just enjoy fics my favourite charaters are in, you know? i will read any ship that is well written and contains steve, and most ships that are well written that contain robin, etc etc.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i would LIKE to think i will finish my WIPs but i don't know. im not very good at that. we will see, i don't wanna say any and discourage myself

16. What are your writing strengths?

i find these kinds of questions very hard to answer HAHA. i think maybeeee i'm quite good at writing internal monologue? i don't know. i get worried to say things like that because i don't want to sound like i'm boasting and it not even be a boast that's supported LMAO. i TRY and ENJOY writing internal monologues of characters a lot, and often have to cut things out to make sure it's not going too internal

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

transitions. i'm TRYING to get it in my head that i don't always have to detail every little thing for the reader to know it's happened, you know? need to work on figuring out things people can assume has happened, or fill in the gaps for, and what people can't

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i don't mind it! i think it depends, you know? if the reader is supposed to understand the dialogue, i prefer if there's a translation in brackets or something, or when it's written in english but the dialogue description tells me the language, more than if i have to scroll all the way to a bottom of a chapter to find the translation. and if the dialogue is NOT meant to be understood by the main character/reader (unless you speak the language of course), i LOVE it i think it's neat

19. First fandom you wrote for?

troye sivan..

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

either Separation Entwined (she is near and dear to my heart) or When Peter Parker Forgot What Day It Was because it's me combining all my favourite spider-man oneshot tropes into one thing fhdjsgkdf

NO PRESSURE TAGS (sorry if you've done this already) @dreamwatch @cranberrymoons @spoookysix @theheadlessphilosopher

#tag game #hbyrde36 #gold talks

[coldflasher]

Joe flr character bingo? 👀

sorry anon i was outside in the garden planting raspberry bushes. anyway this is SUCH a good one and I am kinda mad there are so few squares I can tick off for Joe bc i genuinely love him but not like That

Joe is such a comfort character for me in a very diff way. he makes my daddy issues go brrrrr cos THIS is a dad. THE dad of all time. if i could pick any dad ever to have instead of mine i think i'd pick him.

I think he's so fucking funny first of all. it's my fave thing to put him in a fic and just. mess with him. im poking him with a stick. im watching his blood pressure go up. i'm making him deal with leonard snart and he's about to explode every time they're in a room together. i just. have so many affectionate feelings for him and his seething hatred of this man. and the earth 2 version where he's exactly like that but to BARRY? iconic. no notes. rip earth 2 joe you were a bitch and i miss you sm

THAT BEING SAID there are things about him that make me go "you should have faced more consequences for that. go sit in a corner and think about what you've done." namely bullying iris out of being a cop (acab etc. etc. but still shitty of him), the whole thing where he was like BARRY, WHY DIDN'T YOU ASK MY PERMISSION TO MARRY IRIS (and iris AGREED 🤮🤮🤮 who the fuck was in charge of the writers' room that day, i just wanna talk), the fact that he can be overbearing and controlling of his kids and very jaded in a lot of ways... idk he's a flawed character and every character needs some negative aspects so none of these things affect my love for him but sometimes i am shaking my head in disapproval...

as for canon. this is true of everything but MAN did they drop the ball with him towards the end... i get why they had joe quit ccpd given the political situation at the time and i support that 100% but first of all, having a Black character go "hey the police force in my city is inherently corrupt and i can no longer be complicit in its enforcement" (true and correct) while their white hero just does not acknowledge that corruption and continues to work for the same establishment completely uncritically was... perhaps not sending the message they intended... i mean it's honestly almost funny cos that is very much a reflection of the actual systems but. maybe they could have thought about that one a bit more...

and they really should have given joe something else to do cos he ended up sorta directionless after that. in fairness i know jesse l martin has back problems so i think them having him sitting down chilling at home as a stay at home dad was perhaps borne of necessity in a lot of ways but they defo could have done more interesting things with the character. im not OPPOSED to sahd joe but it does seem like a bit of a waste cos it would just be like. every episode joe shows up for a pep talk then goes back to being the full-time stay at home parent for a child we literally never see except one time when a window explodes in her face, which brings me to my NEXT point---

writing joe out with LITERALLY like 8 eps to go? stupid. again i respect that jesse l martin had HAD it with this show (tbf who hadnt by this point) and he wanted out, of course he had every right to do that, but purely based on the context of the show, i hate that they had him leave central city like that and move so far away when we were so close to the finish line. HAAATE it. the show was basically on life support from that point on. it was possibly worse than when we lost cisco. joe was the heart of it, man. it just wasn't the same :(

but yes I LOVE JOE, he is the only fictional dad i respect and i love ruining his life

#answered #thank you! :D

[perenlop]

6, 7, 13, 16, 25 fooooor Kirby!

6. Which ship fans are the most annoying?

Hard to say presently cause I haven't interacted with the shippy side of the fandom in some time. I guess from experience it's Meta Knight x Garlude shippers but I have not heard a single whisper from them in literal years. Is anyone saying that MK can't be gay cause he interacted with her anymore? I dunno.

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

At one point it was Meta Knight, specifically the anime version of him, but I've come back around to him tbh. Maybe it's the bat wings. Dark Meta Knight used to be ruined to me for personal reasons wayyyyy back in the day but that got fixed a while ago. I guess there's Hyness cause there's kind of an attitude I've sensed about him that "oh it's not that deep, he didn't actually hurt the sisters and I'm ignoring it for the sake of making him my silly little guy", but also I already hate him in canon. So idk there either.

13. Worst blorboficiation

Mayyybe Dedede? Not cause I don't like him, I love him and I'm fond of the version I've made of him in my head, but the sheer refusal to ever acknowledge him as a villain ever like... kinda misses the mark for me. The fact that he was a villain at all and you can create a narrative of him becoming better as the games go on is interesting to me! And him sometimes being antagonistic to Kirby cause they're rivals and such is fine. It's fun! It makes the moments where the two act nice and wholesome feel all the more rewarding cause like, Dedede DOES have it out for this pink kid, but at the end of the day the said pink kid holds no grudges, man, and there are bigger things to worry about. So if you sand off that part of him, he becomes less interesting to work with, y'know?

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

"Meta Knight and Dedede are Kirby's loving adoptive dads". I love found family but those two are uncles at best. This is moreso Meta Knight though, ESPECIALLY the anime version. That guy cuts Kirby's car brakes, he is not a sweet dad figure sldkfjssfds.

I've rambled about this before, but one of my biggest fanon nitpicks is when people have an adult male fave and a child protagonist, and they'll nerf the child protagonist in favor of having the adult male fave do everything in the story and be really powerful so they can protect the child figure. And that sounds weird, I know it does, like of course the child protagonist would benefit from a parental figure taking off some of the load sometimes. But it's never quite portrayed like that and it always just reads to me like "WOW look how awesome my fave is!!! They should be the REAL protagonist and the child protag is a side character in their story!" and it's never like, emotional support or anything, it's always "suddenly the protagonist who has defeated literal gods cannot even scratch a basic enemy and needs the adult fave to save them." Like, I remember this fic where Kirby got beat up and nearly killed by a regular dark matter minion so that Meta Knight could save him, and I could not sit with it cause like... a regular dark matter minion? Really??

I don't know, if I had to approach a Metadad concept, I'd do something similar to "Igglybuff the Prodigy" from PMD where Meta Knight does serve as a mentor figure, but really, Kirby ends up being more powerful and smarter than him and outdoes him a lot, but Meta Knight doesn't mind after a while because he benefits from having a grounding positive figure like Kirby in his life. Kirby made him a better person and made him realize that he wasn't done living his life even though he'd done some terrible things. And Kirby admires him cause he's a child and he likes having another person like himself around, even if that person isn't fantastic to begin with. Like, it's a mentor relationship but it's turned on its head.

25. Common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

Anything about the anime being an invalid Kirby property and you suck if you incorporate parts of it into your own personal game canon. I do what I want. Sirica and Magolor are friends.

#sorry this isn't too substantial sdjlfksdjlkfsdf i have distanced myself from the kirby fandom hard #mail #kirisakin

[faunusrights]

by the way i have an updaete

something i was actually gonna make a whole post about and then. Didn't Do. is the fact that in november i am moving out to live with my FWENDS and whilst i'm very excited for this life progression the economic climate (or as i like to call it, the heckonomic climate,) is Not Good, so i have plans to move away from doing fanfic and actually start creating Sexy* Original Content.

(this post went on for a bit here's a cut)

whilst i appreciate all of u who've supported my patreon over the years (AND I REALLY DO ILU ALL) i realise that as a person i'm bad at like. drip-feeding content. i really am i fucking suck at it. so what i wanna do is self-pub original content and maybe even art zines that YOU CAN BUY, FINISHED. so that way YOU get cool stuff that doesn't need UPDATES AND SHIT and I get money. to LIVE ON.

i'm currently working on a magazine-rejected erotica petplay piece that i wanna get out there, as well as kicking around an idea for a longer, more Problematic series about bad guys being the worst based off my old prizefighter au! but those are more long-term projects, so what i may do in the meanwhile is create smaller collections of ideas (like kinktober but for OG content instead) which won't be As Polished but you can BUY IT and OWN IT and DOWNLOAD IT and idk print it off and mail it to someone. i guess.

naturally i have fanfic projects still ongoing (I WILL FINISH THE WORK OF WOLVES ON GOD) but i realise that i need something to support myself on and making completed works and selling them is probably my best bet! they'll have illustrations! and cover art! also it'll give u an excuse when someone asks if yr reading fanfic again and you can be like Akshualy im reading A Novella/Flash Fiction/whatever and you'll sound all cool and shit.

i acknowledge my ao3 is loaded with unfinished fics and all that, but this is why i'd like to have people support me for finished content and not the vague hope that maybe one of these days i'll get back to frapp logs (hint: i won't), SO. HOPEFULLY. THIS WORKS FOR EVERYONE. also dw i'm stealing velvet. my velvet. i'll even tell u her name is Joey instead. kangaroo babey.

ANYWAY. THAT'S THE UPDATE. YEA.

#uuuuuuuh yea #hgjsdghjsdf #we're gonna get a dog and everything it's gonna b so poggers

[taegularities]

Idk if i am late to this whole authors support and reblogging thing, but i wanted to mention smth i noticed as well. I am someone who leaves a note 95 % of the time after reading a story. and when i do, its literally just me and maybe 5 others that have written smth. and when i tell you that only TWO authors of all the ones i have written long ass paragraphs for have replied to me, telling me they were happy abt my little note, im not joking. I understand that its frustrating for bloggers when their readers never like, write a note or reblog and just demand an update every single time but its also very common for authors to not acknowledge those notes and never reply to them 🤷🏻‍♀️

- 🧚🏼‍♂️

yeahhh, i feel like that's a discussion between writers and readers that's been going on for some while, too. like, in some sense, writers work on a fic for such a long time and it's already a big gift from them to us readers. so they feel like writing 5k or 10k or even more doesn't compare to one reblog or one feedback – but then again, i also really understand readers, bcos even i would love to hear what the author thinks of my input

it's a neverending cycle, really. i guess, no one's right or wrong; BUT if it helps anyhow !!! i will always respond to ur guys' words <33

#a lot of stuff i've heard from ppl #lots of opinions *sigh* #but feedback is just rlly important regardless cos the lack of it drives writers away #notes for rid 🌹 #🧚 anon

[drunkengodsofslaughter]

Like BBC Merlin is so much of a we know what's going to happen but we can see it coming closer and closer as the seasons go on. Because we know Mordred is going to kill Arthur. But what's kinda cool is how Merlin kinda drives him to that point and we see Arthur's death and we can also see Merlin's declining mental health at the stage and how it also plays a role. And how Lancelot was so so important to him because he was his friend and he always supported Merlin and his loss isolates Merlin in a way that he hasn't been before. And the second loss, because Merlin can't even publicly mourn for Lancelot afterwards because of the shade's actions. And he doesn't have that relationship with the rest of the knights that he did with Lancelot because none of them know of his magic and he can't tell because magic is illegal. It's also really telling that after Arthur becomes king, he doesn't advance Merlin, but still leaves him a servant despite him being integral to the battle against Morgana. Like I would bump him up to advisor. Yeah... I do love Merlin. And Gwen. Don't get me started on Gwen. And Lancelot and Gwaine and Elyan. And even Arthur, but he is in a position of power and I'm going to judge him for not using it. Changing Fandoms!

So basically, Nancy cheating on Steve is what started making me get more critical of her and the show. Because I was a casual watcher at one point (I got into the show Dec 2020, because my cousin and my mother were watching it so I was too) and then Nancy cheated but it was never addressed and my brain went, This is wrong. And then season 3 happened and the Jancy stuff happened and more alarm bells were ringing. Because I was reading fic and simultaneously watching the show and fic portrayed her as this paragon. So I knew fandom wasn't addressing it either. And I got even more judgy because cheating is objectively bad, but most of it was saying it wasn't cheating or Steve deserved it. And yeah, that's how Nancy cheating got me into this position. Because we do not like cheating in this household.

Like yeah, the media puts all of Robin's work on Nancy's shoulders. Robin says that "Nancy's shot in the dark was a perfect bullseye!" but the narrative never acknowledges that Robin was the one to find that information. Like I agree that the narrative gives all the credit to Nancy and very little to Robin even though Robin is doing the heavy lifting.

yes this is all so true about BBC Merlin! also like it is a tragedy anyway and we know it's coming (which the execution may have not been the best but it's still a tragedy) Lancelot and Merlin's friendship means so much to me honestly - like it's so sad though that Lancelot was the only knight to really know merlin for his magic and etc. YES! it really is showing that arthur keeps merlin as a servant like idk why he didn't at least make merlin have higher status or something ya know? literally all of those characters are amazing and i love them too (also you are so valid about the arthur thing because also ngl i loved him first but a lot of his actions in canon are so yikes to me and i acknowledge that)

anyway lol change in fandoms. legit same about the cheating thing - ngl i really don't remember what my impression was of Nancy at the beginning but now she's just become such a meh character to me. omg i may have also started that year or maybe the year after (wait lol it might have been the year after thinking about it now) but anyway same I was such a causal viewer too. i can't believe that people said steve deserved it but also i can because legit the reactions with steve (especially in season 1) were so expressive that yeah i can see that honestly it's insane how long this ignoring of cheating and the cheating debate has gone on like people are STILL debating about it which is weird because even if people don't see her hooking up with joanthan cheating - SHE STILL EMOTIONALLY CHEATED ON STEVE BY KNOWING THAT SHE WANTED TO BE WITH JONATHAN THE WHOLE TIME IN THEIR RELATIONSHIP!!!! like she knew before she got back together with steve that she wanted to be with Jonathan - that's called EMOTIONAL CHEATING! like anyway that turned into a rant lol.

yeah they put so much of robin's work to nancy - and that line is insane because i believe when robin says that THEY STILL DON'T KNOW HOW IT FULLY CONNECTS TO WHAT IT HAPPENING!! a;lso sirry that i keep using caps lock but i like to use it to emphasize lol. but yeah you are so right

#answered asks #honeysblooms tag

[lqtraintracks]

hello so i apologize in advance for this rambling ask but my blog is not fandom related since i have no energy to get fully invested atm, but this is worrying me a lot lately and I have no-one in fandom to talk this with. Also i'm not a writer and ESL so this will be a mess.

i lurked for a bit a saw the starry knight helps out losts souls but they closed their ask box and sitp recs is on hiatus. So i come to you because i've seen you been posting fic for 10 years now (congratulations and thank you) and maybe you or people who follow your blog can help me out.

so this is thing. i came across fanfic almost 2 years ago and yes fiction is fiction and proshipping i'm all about it and I totally understand that. but. I can't help to acknowledge that misoginistic media (along other things ofc) basically shaped my teenage years and now, being 22, i'm still unlearning all that bullshit.

idk why but I like possessive beheauvior in fic sooo much. more specifically i love me a possessive Harry, it scratches my brain just right in a way it almost creeps me out. I know we can be critical w what we read but still, i can tell i will be reading fic for several years now bc i'm grabbed to it, and i'm afraid it will do this damage to my psyche that i won't be able to see while it happens, but when i turn 30 i'll be like: damn, I unconsciously repeated those same shitty patterns but in this different kind of way.

i hope this makes sense... also i totally understand if you are not keen to this asks bc you feel they push some boundaries and you prefer not to answer. Hope you have a nice weekend byebye

I’m sorry I’m so late to answering this, but... I think the fact that you are so aware of this makes it highly unlikely that it’s going to become an unhealthy pattern of behavior in your own life. You’ve already acknowledged that fiction is different from reality, first of all. And you’re aware that possessive behavior in a real person would be a red flag to you. I think all that’s left is connecting those dots and the ability to say, “What I like in fiction doesn’t dictate what I’ll like or accept in my real life. It’s okay and perfectly normal and healthy to enjoy dark tropes or sinister personality traits in fictional people that I would never condone or accept into my life personally.” Once you’ve made that connection, I think it’s pretty safe to relax and let yourself enjoy the characterizations that get you going, while knowing you’d want something far different in your own relationships. And heck, if you want to play with relationship and power dynamics, that’s why people invented role playing! There are safe, sane, and consensual ways to explore those desires. Just because you find a possessive Harry titillating doesn’t mean you’re going to run out and get yourself an abusive partner.

You sound like someone who can make these distinctions for themselves. And if you have any doubts about that or worries about yourself, I recommend finding a good, caring, open-minded therapist to work through things with, someone who can support you in validating both those distinctions and yourself in response to them.

I hope this helps! <3

[sarah-sandwich]

A love letter to commenters, using only their words as they left them on works of fiction

Dear Commenters,

I don’t even know where to start

First of all, I have to compliment your fortitude

Well done

You mad genius

To write a comment

So full of

Genuine affection

Heartfelt, and REAL

Honey you can’t do this?

Such a beautiful message

Oh dear

I would kudos

A million times if I could

.

Unintelligible caps-lock comment

My beloved

I gotta be honest

APOLOGIZING

For

A

Beautiful

Knee-jerk reaction

NOOOOOOOO

It’ll be a crime against this fandom if you stop

.

You

Wrote this

I’m thankful I got to read this

My heart needed it

On another note tho i—

Fhsjhdhdhdsh

A comment

Relief in the sea of fandom

Don’t take this the wrong way

I’m glad you didn’t

Threw it out

Because it is perfect and I’m keeping it

.

Y’know what, fuck it *affection*

The amount of validation

Is absurd

No thoughts. Head empty. Just

THE WAY I AM YELLING

How it feels like we

Work

Together

I’m at 4am finishing just another one more part

You being the reason

I can’t wait to finish it

Would you be okay if I

Express just how much

I love your brain

We do not and I repeat do not deserve you!

.

I can’t think of a funny quip

In all seriousness

I’ve been struggling

But

I needed something

And you gave it to me

Rent free

We start out raw, stumbling around in the dark and weaving our way across the lines of humor and sincerity

The people we really are

Not the character or story development, but yours. You

Hi thanks its 5:30am here and I am wrapped up in my comforter and my face is wet

.

To write a comment

I don't know if you realize, but

From reading it

I'll be a better person

Sure, the characters drew me to this fic, but it’s you that kept me here

Going back

There's this

Feeling

You managed to give me

And that's not even a fraction of the awe I'm feeling at the way

the commentary

made me blink back a few tears

There is absolutely no fucking way I can find the same amount of euphoria

Finally some good fucking food

.

I’m screaming

Something I don't think is said enough

Thank you for sharing

The most perfect paragraph I’ve ever read

I will cherish it for days

Will read again. Maybe a few times.

.

I believed in every word.

.

Guess what I’m doing instead of

Writing

I’m reading this

Comment

Again. Again. Again.

There were so many moments that had me

!!!!!!!!!!!!

Do I feel guilty about it?

No :)

It’s alright the next chap is already up

I will be in debt from cavities but it’s worth it

I regret nothing!

.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

Just say thank you like a normal person

Is that too much to ask

Guh.

I’m so sorry

.

The anxiety

The awkwardness

It’s alright

Your

Words

Make me feel better

AND PROUD

Thank you for sharing

Connecting

Supporting each other

Hits different for some reason

(in a good way)

Does that make sense?

.

Maybe I’m just sleep deprived

It’s 3AM here

.

I promise you’re doing okay bud

You’re really funny and sweet

You did such a wonderful job

You wrote it all very well

It makes my day

I love how you captured the

Subtle background details

And the acknowledgment that

It takes a lot of work!

And damn if you didn't hit that nail right on the head

.

Idk how long this comment will get

I should be sleeping

I’ll probably regret it in the morning

But

It’s like

So so happy to see this

In my inbox :)

It’s like coming home

You’re making me have FEELINGS

My heart is happy and full

.

I’m literally

SCREAMING

Quietly-but-not-quietly-at-all into a pillow

This lovely

Thing

You wrote

Got me through

More confident

With lots of joy and laughter

I hope you’re still writing

.

Every

Word

You write

My favorite thing to read

Please dear god lmk

If you happen to

Been feeling out of sorts

Buddy…sleep

You are not alone

Sending all my love

As always

Let someone take care of your ass for once

.

Everybody’s

Really going through it

Being the yardstick for each other

Have to compete

But I just can’t

This should be

Fun

Aiming

To be happpyyyy!

.

Next chapter

Could have been quicker

I wish I could give so many more

Life totally got away from me this year

Don’t read the last few chapters at 1 am

But on the other hand

What can you do?

.

My feelings are all over the place

.

Such a beautiful message

I think will stick with me always

From someone who hasn’t written in a while, this inspires me immensely to continue

Kudos upon kudos to you

.

Ah, I could go on forever

I don’t know how many ways I can say

Thank you so much

You wonderful human

Without sounding obnoxious so I’ll leave it as

It’s 2am and I’m left with

Massive

WIBBLES

I can’t even put this one into words

Please knock me out with a brick

Ouchie…and lovely

It’s hard to form coherent sentences

But somehow you made me fall even more in love with

Writing

.

I forgot to say it before but

Listen

It was exactly what I needed

You are so fucking amazing

20/10

Did I mention my brain went aaaaaahhhhhhh!

Thank you for the serotonin

Once I run out

Will probably read it again

No seriously

I’ll have to return to it in the future to reread it

.

It’s now 3am

Thank you for

Reading this

I loved every moment and I’m sad it had to end. But it was perfect.

I can’t stop smiling.

.

Hope you’re safe and well, read you~

Love,

Writers

#this is.....so long #are tags working yet? #oh well #fandom #writing is hard #writing things #idk how to tag #'long post' #inspiration #poetry #fanfic #humans are good #'mine' #but also *bugsbunny.gif* Ours #this was a formatting nightmare thank you tumblr -_- #sswrites #sswrites poetry

[loversamongus]

Controlled Emotions | Zuko x Reader

a/n: all these fics end up being the reader as an advisor, I have zero creativity. anyways this is inspired by the song “every single night” by computer games because I was listening to it one day and the first lyric just screamed zuko to me idk so here it is. also i didnt proofread this oops

word count: 1.5k

fic taglist:

Advisor meetings have been tense lately. While a mixture of advisors in age, gender, and political leanings was ideal for gaining multiple perspectives on an issue, it also led to frequent arguments about what was best for the Fire Nation and deadlines being pushed back until the majority of advisors have come to an agreement. Though rewarding at times, the job was certainly frustrating. But all that paled in comparison to the most recent audiences with the young Fire Lord. 

Frustrated by another deadline requested to be pushed back, the Fire Lord’s temper had surged throughout the throne room. You didn’t disagree with him either. People in a small fishing village were becoming seriously ill and many signs seemed to point to the mutations and disease in some of the fish from the river as a result of years of pollution from war efforts. 

“It is not your fault the regime before yours was so ignorant of the people’s needs and other environmental factors.”

“In all honesty, who in their right mind would eat a fish with two heads anyways?”

“The river had been supposedly cleaned by the Avatar and his friends shortly before the end of the war, shouldn’t the responsibility lie with them?”

One after another, an advisor countered the Fire Lord’s efforts to financially back abundant medical aid for the fishing village. One after another, flames grew higher and higher nearly scorching the ceiling as the Fire Lord sat quietly. You noticed his scrunched up expression and knew it was only a matter of time before--

“Am I not, as Fire Lord, responsible for everyone living in the Fire Nation? Am I not, having been Prince of the Fire Nation during the war, responsible for how the war had affected our people? How can we sit here and deny help to our own people who are suffering?!”

After an uncomfortable silence, only one advisor stood up to speak. “And what, Fire Lord Zuko, do you plan to do about those injured in the fights breaking out in the colonies? Or the troops returning home from war injured and jobless? Or the villages in the Earth Kingdom burned down by our nation’s doing? There are many responsibilities this nation bears but solving these problems must be done with appropriate organization and objectiveness, not youthful bullheadedness.”

And with that, the audience was dismissed. 

With no clear resolution in sight, you had made your way to the advisors’ chambers to work on new proposals despite the late night. Getting down the business is usually easy but the otherwise empty and quiet workspace was not as calming and focused as you had hoped. It may have been well past sundown, but bright bursts of light kept erupting and peeking through the windows of the chambers, distracting you every time you went to read or write a new sentence. Having been an advisor for some time now and becoming familiar with the layout of the palace, you knew exactly where the light was coming from.

Abandoning your work, you walked the grounds until you reached the gates of the training space. Sure enough, your suspicions had been correct as you eyed Zuko in the center of the pitch running through different firebending forms. It was a surprise however that only the fire blasting from his fists and feet was what distracted you from your work. You hadn’t heard the angry grunts and yells from the advisors’ chambers.

The sound of the gate closing behind you was enough to make Zuko stop and look up at you. But he simply acknowledged your presence with a nod before continuing into the next set of firebending forms. You took a seat to watch on the sidelines. The silence did not bother you. In fact, it gave you time to relax from your role as advisor to the Fire Lord into friend. Or something more. The details of your relationship with Zuko have not really been sorted out or discussed but either way, you knew your role right now was to be supportive yet honest.

“He was right, you know.”

Zuko let out a low grunt as his response before letting more fire blast from his fist.

“It’s not that the other advisors don’t want to help the village. It’s that we have to divide our resources and aid equally. If we send all our healers to the village, none will be left to take care of the returning troops or the colonies or the elderly in the capital city.”

There was no grunt this time but more flames spat from his fist as he punched it forward through the air.

“And it’s incredibly admirable to see you so compassionate about your people but it would be nice to get through one meeting this week without scorching the ceiling tiles.”

“So am I supposed to rule without a conscience?” he asked coldly without looking at you, the anger he was restraining palpable in his voice.

“No,” you replied levelly. “You heard what Ji said. Objectively does not necessarily mean without a conscience. Actually,” a bit of laughter bubbled up into your conversation. “He suggested you talk more with Katara. ‘Now that’s someone who can keep their emotions in check,’ he said.”

“Having been on the receiving end of her wrath, I beg to differ,” Zuko sighed and released his fists before joining you in the stands. “And I have talked to her. She just laughed at me. She said, ‘Now you know what it’s like not to be taken seriously because you’re too emotional.”

You shifted your body when he sat down beside you so that you could still face him. He did not face you, however, and continued to stare forward at the training grounds and into the night sky. “No one is telling you not to feel or have emotions, Zuko. Just that they shouldn’t control you so much, or cloud your judgment.”

“You sound like Uncle,” he groaned before flopping backwards onto his back. In moments like this, you really realized how young the Fire Lord was. He was still mature and doing his best with such a large responsibility, but despite being five years into his reign, that moody teenager still presented himself at times. 

Leaning onto one arm so that you were closer to Zuko, you laughed softly, “I’m wondering if I should find that flattering.”

Zuko ignored your lightheartedness and continued. “People are always telling me, ‘don’t let your emotions control you.’ But why? Without them, I never could know you.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyes remained fixed on him as you tried to sort out your confusion.

“Do you remember one of the first advisor meetings you were a part of?”

“The one where we were discussing having the Kyoshi Warriors acting as your bodyguards over well-trained firebenders much more familiar with the palace and the land? Absolutely. That was when we discovered your throne wasn’t fireproof.”

“Right. And I came here to blow off some steam and you followed me to say that you were on my side and would work on getting the other advisors to agree to letting the Kyoshi Warriors be my security.”

“I didn’t follow you...”

For the first time that evening, Zuko looked at you with a knowing and pointed grin. You rolled your eyes and urged him to continue making his point. “Anyways, go on.”

“If I hadn’t been feeling so angry, I wouldn’t have come here and you wouldn’t have followed me and we wouldn’t be... I don’t know... us.” He sat up and was so close now that your shoulders brushed against each other.

“It’s not just through anger that I’ve gotten to know you either,” he continued. “When I was anxious about a speech, you were the one who volunteered to work on it with me.”

“You made fun of the way I clapped and said people don’t clap that enthusiastically for common budget updates,” you drawled.

“When I was excited about Uncle coming back to visit, you helped to make sure everything was arranged to his liking.”

“You told me never to tell your uncle that my taste in tea may be superior to his,” you proudly added.

“And when I was sad that you had to leave on a trip to the Earth Kingdom, your letters made me smile because I thought at last someone who has worse handwriting than I do.”

“You take that back!” you gasped, pointing your finger menacingly at Zuko. 

“My point is,” he grabbed your hand in his. “If I was cold and stoic as some of these advisors seem to want me to be, I wouldn’t have gotten to know you. So I’m not going to change the way I feel.”

You smiled softly, happy to see this side of Zuko. The nature of your relationship still felt undefined and you were sure the two of you would figure it out. Eventually. It was a discussion to be had, but one for another day, as this day was nearly over.

“That’s nice,” you playfully patted his hand. “But the next time you decide to feel something, maybe you could do so without destroying the ceiling. Or distracting me with your firebending while I’m trying to do my job.”

You stood up and began to walk away from the stands and out of the training grounds, leaving a smiling Zuko behind you.

“You’re the one who followed me!” he called out.

#atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #zuko x reader #zuko x you #prince zuko x you #prince zuko #zuko #fire lord zuko #fire lord zuko x reader #fire lord zuko x you #zuko fic

[martelldoran]

unsolicited tfatws opinions because i have them vol. 1

warning: here be spoilers

starting on the positive because there were things i did like in the episode

things i liked

sam wilson: *exists*

me:

sam's storyline was definitely the strongest of the two in this ep and i liked pretty much everything he did.

the opening aerial fight! was! so! cool! seeing batroc again was a nice nod to tws too and an interesting parallel to steve's lumerian star fight. i loved seeing his quick tactical thing, seeing how he fights, and the way he utilises the wings even in close quarters.

sam speaks arabic!

sam fixes redwing! (validation of a hc of mine that he's good with robotics. maybe that's a widely held fandom one as well? idk)

i instantly found torres to be really endearing and i'm looking forward to seeing more of him throughout the series. the relationship between him and sam has a lot of potential.

the manipulation of the government and general set up for sam's storyline felt strong. good basis for a story and pertinent to the current political landscape.

sam's speech as he handed over the shield was well written and gave me the same kind of vibes as the 'the price of freedom is high' speech. they could be quite nicely paralleled side by side.

sam's family! look, i'm a sucker for domestic moments for our faves so the entire sequence where we got this insight into sam's past, his relationship with his sister, and where he's come from was brilliant. i like sarah a lot and seeing her frustration with her brother for trying to come in and fix things when he's been gone for so long felt really realistic. i felt for her a lot. because you can tell there's so much there bubbling under the surface, a mix of love and resentment and frustration that was palpable as they talked about what to do with their parents' house/boat/business. so, give me all of the sarah wilson moments pls n thnx.

seeing the consequences of the snap (hi, i am refusing to call it the fucking blip. marvel, my god, get better names for shit.) idk how in depth they're really going to go into it all but at least they attempted something here with the scenes at the bank.

bucky's nightmare sequence as the winter soldier. it was such a brilliant reminder about how terrifying tws actually is. he's silent and ominous and THAT MUSIC. his presence is legitimately unsettling from the moment you see him. (but he runs around like a bull in a china shop which does make me 🤔 when i remember he's supposed to be a g h o s t s t o r y. idk. not exactly stealth and shadow work. but that doesn't look cool on screen so 🤷🏻‍♀️)

and on that note, vindication of my 'they sleep on the floor after coming back' headcanon. literally had raymond holt screaming in my head the second i saw bucky wake up on his living room floor. does my heart break for him? yes. was i smug about being right? also yes.

leah seems cool. could she actually be telepathic??? since she hit every single one of bucky's boats while they played battleships? i would like to see it. 😂 there's def more to her character than meets the eye since she's slated to be in all six episodes.

bucky having one (1) old man friend even if the reason behind it was heartbreaking.

so, yeah. these things i genuinely liked.

things i didn't like

the therapy scene. i genuinely hated it. there's a different between a no nonsense therapist and someone being deliberately antagonistic and that definitely erred on the side of the latter imo. she tells him to 'get over it' and mocks him for not reaching out and meeting people. media in general doesn't do a good job of depicting therapy so this is just yet another poor offering into the canon. i'm tired. i want healthy depictions of therapy already. it's supposed to be a supportive environment ffs.

plus she kept calling him james 🤮 genuinely wouldn't be surprised if she turns out to be a bad guy plant. which i think is a cliche at this point? 🤔

bucky's new look. which i know we've seen before now but i've not offered my unsolicited opinion on it. it's just sebastian stan in an ugly leather jacket. it's generic male lead#346. it's broification. someone said they made him look like brock rumlow and now i can't unsee it. 😭 rip to bucky with the good hair. i'd have loved to see him with some curls tbh. or a wave that kind of calls back to his pre-war days. anyway. i digress. character design is 0/10.

would have been nice to see him cut his hair as a marker of him starting a new chapter and coming into his own personhood.

rhodey's disability was just? glossed over? no visible assistive tech at all?

the date. just the fact it was there at all. it was heavy handed and not subtle and we know why they put that in there within the first 10 minutes of bucky's screen time. that's all i'm going to say about it. if you follow me, you know where i stand. we don't need poorly written romance. get it in the bin.

there was no acknowledgement of bucky's relationship with steve. if there was a memorial to be had then bucky should have been there. maybe these will come later but i'm not holding my breath.

is steve dead? i assumed that the party line was that young steve died in the battle and no-one knew about old steve . but did they actually kill steve off-screen? what a kick in the teeth if that's the case. let me just cut open a wound for them to pour the salt straight into, shall i?

things i'm mostly neutral on

john walker. he looks like a cop and his wink at the camera gave me the creeps but i'm interested to see how that pans out. i hope sam beats 50 shades of star spangled shit out of him.

the flag smashers. premise of a world without borders is interesting and a believable concept given what's happened in universe. there's a lot of scope there i think. that said, the name is dumb.

right. i think that covers everything for now. my expectations going in were really low, i won't lie. before the premiere i tried to stay away from the trailers and tv spots and the hype in general so i was pleasantly surprised at how much i enjoyed certain aspects of the show.

in conclusion, some good, some bad, some ugly and i will be cherry picking my favourite nuggets for fic at a later point. also, i'm still a skrull!Steve truther. real steve is chilling with some wakandan goats 😌💖✨

#ali's unsolicited opinions #.txt #tfatws #marvel #tv

[jynzandtonic]

ugh Z I once again had to unfollow a blog I really liked bc they jumped on the “Adam should cheat and have an affair with Gaga it’s be so hot 🥵” train I feel like people put that into the universe every time he has a new female costar and I don’t get why people can’t just be respectful of the actual real AD and that he’s happily married with a son and keep those thots to his characters like I’m all for putting that in fics and having fics that involve infidelity but that can ruin people (child of divorce here brought on bc my dad cheated 🥴) and I just can’t wrap my head around wishing the real dude would cheat on his wife and do that to his fam

- sorry silly rant over I’m sure I’m just being triggered (also ik it’s usually people joking around but they ~really~ should still tw: infidelity tbh) but I’m just so tired of seeing people legit want that every time they think he has a hot costar and that him having a good working relationship/having respect for them is = to him wanting to fuck them or having had an affair like cmon just channel that into fics or thots where real people aren’t in the mix

Um... ex... excuse me?

So, there are a few things I'm thinkin' about.

A big one is the way we can treat celebrities as public domain rather than actual people, and the lack of respect toward their autonomy/privacy that comes with it. I mean, yeah, it's always fun to indulge in some good ol' thirsting, and yeah, I'm sure I've said shit that'd make the dude blanch if he ever saw it haha. I'm not here to draw some grand line in the sand about what's okay and what's not, but I will say I personally think it's kinda weird when fans start shipping/fanonizing the real people (and please, pleaaase don't make me mention the absolute wackadoodles who support another certain real-person AD 'ship *shudders*). Like... he's a dude with a wife of nearly a decade and a son—both of whom he adores by all accounts. As far as I know, Gaga is in a relationship, too. Give 'em all some space to breathe, maybe?

The other thing is the (mostly heterosexual lolz) tendency to read any display of affection or chemistry between two people as ~UNDENIABLY ROMANTIC AND SEXUAL~. Just because people have fun and good rapport with each other doesn't mean they're absolutely frothing to fuck. Platonic intimacy is great. Platonic affection is great. Again, let people breathe?

Idk. Weird shit. I don't think it's inappropriate to acknowledge a bangin' hot pair of people (cause yeah, both AD and Gaga are mega-babes)... I just don't love the idea of anything that veers toward real-person shipping. 🤷 To each their own, I suppose.

I totally understand how this all could be triggering for you considering your history—I'm so glad you're able to establish personal boundaries and keep your own space safe by unfollowing peeps as needed.

#well that's something