#'what would this mean for the character as we were first introduced to it'

[batslime]

Re-examining Hunter’s Moon after Rite Here Rite Now

For quite some time now Terzo’s resurrection and people’s excessive speculation and desperation for it has been a meme. When Hunter’s Moon came out, many interpreted it as being from Papa Emeritus III’s perspective- his warning to Sister Imperator that he would be back, and likely for revenge.

Rite Here Rite Now may have lent this some credence. Or you can consider this a jumble of more desperate speculative nonsense. This is all just for fun.

WARNING for heavy Rite Here Rite Now spoilers‼️

First things first: the major events of Rite Here Rite Now.

Copia, now Brother Imperator, is alive and now the head of the ministry. Sister Imperator has died. Copia has a twin, who may or may not be the “new guy” we see the mitre-wearing silhouette of in the very last shot of the film, cut off just before making his entrance.

Secondly, to get it out of the way- this may NOT be Terzo. This could very well be a whole new character! But here is my observation looking at all this in conjunction with Hunter’s Moon and other recent Ghost tidbits.

First, Hunter’s Moon. People have talked since it first came out about it possibly being from Terzo’s perspective and as a threat that he’s coming back for revenge. But now some of the lyrics resonate a little heavier with the lore.

Specifically the line “to where we’d hide as children” REALLY grabs my attention now. My mind goes back to the shot from behind of the two children running together in RHRN, inferably Copia and whoever the twin is (we are assuming Terzo for the sake of this theory). Again, this could be a character we haven’t been introduced to- but we have no reason to believe Copia’s twin died and the lyrics implies somebody coming back from the dead with the second verse. “It’s been a long time coming” rings especially true for Terzo because now it’s been YEARS since he was killed and even longer since he was dragged offstage. The lyrics about being jaded and not remembering everything could even be about him being dead for so long that it’s effected his memory- maybe he even forgot his own identity and that he even was Papa, hence him coming back as a “new guy”?

I’d also like to bring attention to the bridge. I know not everybody has seen a translation for it.

More lyrics about hiding. Hiding in the cemetery in the verses, death, life, Sister, hiding, and conquering in the bridge. There are people who saw Terzo’s foot twitch in Chapter 3 while he was being embalmed and wondered if he was dead at all. I really believe this was just something for comedic effect but what if he was hiding somehow the whole time?

Even if we push aside all other characters and theories, “your death, my life” specifically ties this song to the lore for me. Sister died so that Copia could go on and rise to a new level in the clergy. But I have also already seen people talking about Sister’s death meaning Terzo coming back to life in the case that he is also her son.

But Hunter’s Moon isn’t the only thing I’m seeing connections to since seeing the movie.

At the end of the film as we see Copia as Brother Imperator for the first time, in his new garb, preparing to welcome New Guy, the first thing he says,

“We seem to have remodeled here.”

They were remodeling in the Escape the Ministry game.

ETM gives us the tidbit that the statues introduced in the renovation are believed by some (in-world) to be a kind of conduit you can use to summon a Papa’s spirit to the mortal plane (and we know that Nihil’s spirit can posess his body, albeit temporarily ). While the statues of Primo, Secondo, and Nihil have notes that talk about what music they like or enjoying watching tv, Terzo’s specifies of all things that there was no autopsy on his body.

Also worth mentioning; there is still an empty pedestal meant for a statue (is Sister getting one?)

And in the room behind Terzo’s statue, is a bunch of nooses. Each room has something to do with one of the songs on the Phantomime EP, this one being Hanging Around, but this note was also in there any wasn’t really used in any of the puzzles in the game.

Primo’s note does specify that they were “forced into retirement from life” by Sister, Nihil, and The Clergy. Sounds like a revenge list to me!

(I also cannot help but point out that in the shot of Copia mentioning the remodel, there is vibrant purple lighting behind him like in Terzo’s chasuble.)

There’s also the gag with Copia being surrounded by Ghosts and talking to them but the janitor comes down the hall and cannot hear or see them. Is being able to sense the ghosts an Emeritus thing? Something higher members of the clergy, maybe with higher powers can do? Can ghosts control who can see or hear them? If the other three Papas do have ghosts, this could be why we haven’t seen them at all- they view most of the people in the ministry as their traitors and murderers. So maybe they really ARE hiding somewhere.

One last thing I will bring up, and this is PURELY rumor, but I did hear that there was chatter at Download about a possible fall tour from Ghost.

The Hunter’s Moon this year will be Thursday, October 17th.

Of course this is all just for fun and it may not mean anything at the end of the day! The ghovie and its sudden end left us all with a lot of excitement for more so my mind has been running ever since I saw it. There is definitely stuff that is becoming more tangibly tied to the actual plot of Ghost in my opinion.

If you guys have anything to add or a different theory I’d love to hear it!

@fagdykemuppet

[positivexcellence]

Jared Padalecki Says Goodbye to ‘Walker’ and Blasts the CW’s ‘Cheap Content’ Strategy After Show’s Cancellation: ‘F— It. They Can’t Fire Me Again’

The writers first introduced this Jackal storyline at the end of the third season as a way to excavate more demons from Cordell and Captain James’ (Coby Bell) shared past. What did this storyline help you unlock in terms of your understanding of Cordell? What were you most interested in exploring from a character perspective?

I’ve been fortunate enough for many years, many decades, to play characters that are in situations where the story is not about the situation necessarily: It’s about what’s going on with the character. On “Supernatural,” we fought God, we fought Lucifer, I was Lucifer at one point, we fought demons — but it was really about the brothers. It was about a bond; it was about the tropes of sacrifice, loyalty, determination, discipline and so many more things.

So when the Jackal storyline first occurred to the gang, [a serial killer storyline] was something that we hadn’t approached yet on “Walker.” And it’s something that the real Texas Rangers actually get involved with: They do hunt down and investigate serial killer allegations. So it was a fun template with which to play out past traumas, [as well as this idea of] trusting those close to you and them trusting you back and getting out of your head.

I don’t want to say I suffer [from this], but I’m in my head a lot. Partially that’s my nature, just the way I was born; and partially that’s my nurture, being an actor. You have your script, you read it, and you’re like, “OK, now what can I add? What does this mean?” So I just spend a lot of time in my head, and oftentimes it takes somebody beloved that’s part of my circle to go, “Hey, you all right?” And I’ll be like, “Oh shit. Yeah, sorry, I’ve been kind of elsewhere.” So [I enjoyed] playing that role this season, and understanding how the rabbit hole of emotions in your mind can sometimes affect more than just you.

This iteration of “Walker” has always been about Cordell’s neverending internal struggle to find the right work-life balance. For me, he seems to finally recognize that he’s done plenty of great work as a Ranger, but he has yet to really fulfill his duties as a father, even though he is about to become an empty nester. What is your take on where we leave him in the finale?

Yeah, it’s exactly that — and kudos to Anna and the rest of the writing gang. It was a lot of what I was going through [in real life]. It’s a lot of what I’m going through now, having worked since I was 17 years old when I started “Gilmore Girls.” There are a lot of things that you miss when you’re acting — a lot of graduations, camp drop-offs, kids’ games, whatever. It’s a wonderful job, and I’m so grateful to have been able to do it for so long, but there’s a lot that you give up.

So I think where we find Cordell in the finale is exactly in that spot where he’s no longer anxiety- or panic-driven about having to do the next job, having to get up and find somebody to arrest or find something to fix or investigate. He has realized — much to the credit of Jeff Pierre’s Trey, Ashley Reyes’ Cassie, and obviously Coby Bell’s Larry James — that, “Hey, the world goes on without you.” I think Cordell was in his own head for a lot of the episodes, and afraid that if he wasn’t around, things would fall apart. I think he found a place where he is like, “The world was here before me. The world will be here after me. And what I need to do for those around me is spend time with them.” So he’s come to a realization that there’s more than just the next job.

I think it took him — I don’t want to call it rock bottom, but getting out of control with his obsession with the Jackal to realize, “Oh, wait, maybe I need to step away from this for a little bit, and when I come back, I’ll come back stronger and more clear headed.” There will always be another job, but the family is growing up. August is graduating, Stella is in college, and he and Geri are working through some stuff. So I think he realized that, “Hey, I need to put my energies elsewhere.” It’s told in TV form, but it’s a really universal lesson. Sometimes, just doing something different, just changing your routine, can open your eyes to not only the positives of the routine — but also the drawbacks.

The writers have put Cordell through the wringer over the years, but this is the closest that he came to dying. The idea of mortality becomes even more intense when you become a parent — and, in Cordell’s case, a widowed single parent — because you have to think about what you’re leaving behind for your children.

Great point. [My wife] Genevieve [who played Cordell’s late wife, Emily] and I talk about that all the time, as parents. I think this is one of the lessons that both Gen and I hope to give to our kids, and for them to grasp as well. As kids grow up — and even adults — they will often deal with and question: “Is what I’m doing right? Should I be doing something else? If I’m not important here, then am I important at all?” I think part of the reason Cordell makes the decision that he does at the end of the finale is to show his kids: “Hey, I know I’ve been doing this, and it is very important. But so are you. It’s not a ‘no, but.’ It’s a ‘yes, and.’” It takes courage to leave routine, to leave habits, and I think he wants his kids to know, “Hey, it’s OK if y’all have to pivot, if y’all have to change. Do what you know is right, not what you think other people think is right.”

Unlike some other shows on the bubble, you and the writers elected not to shoot an alternate ending. That means you’ve left the audience with a couple big cliffhangers: In addition to taking a leave of absence, Cordell is also planning to propose to Geri; and James Van Der Beek was going to play the Walkers’ new (and potentially nefarious) neighbor. Did you and Anna discuss what next season would have looked like?

Yeah, there was so much to deal with, now that Violet and Kale are both young adults. They’re not children like they were four years ago, both literally and metaphorically. So there was a lot that we were going to explore with them — like, how much the sins of the father can carry down to the progeny, and how much Stella and/or August had, unfortunately, [inherited] their father’s bad qualities as well, which we dealt with this year with Stella. She’s very much like her father in the good ways and in the bad ways.

But we were very excited to have James on the show. He’s a personal friend, and he lives here in Austin. It wasn’t going to be like the Walker-Davidson feud necessarily [from Season 2], and the fifth season was certainly not written by any means, but I think there was going to be a very interesting dynamic that Cordell was maybe not anticipating, because he was taking a backseat on his law enforcement duties. We thought that James and his crew were going to be maybe up to no good, and Walker was just blinded to it.

Walker was a “Hell yes” or “hell no” kind of guy; he was either all-in on something, or he was kind of oblivious to it. And that was good when he was all-in on a job or all-in on trying to work with his family. But it was bad when he was oblivious: “Oh, no, the kids are fine. I’m fine. They’re nice. Don’t be suspicious of this person, or that person.” And he kind of got stuck in his own head, as we all often do at times. So we were going to explore that.

Is there something that you would have personally loved to have explored further with Cordell, if you had been given more time?

Oh my God. How long do you have? I really would’ve done the show forever. I just loved my character. I loved that I got to be in Austin with my family. I loved my cast and loved our crew. Maybe this is what ultimately was our downfall, but we weren’t ever seeking like, “Oh, here’s the explosion. Oh, here’s the wild cliffhanger where the aliens come down. Oh, here’s the next hot reality star that comes in and takes their clothes off.” It was never about sensationalism. It was more about life. When Anna and I first talked about the show many years ago, one of the reasons [this reboot] was called “Walker,” not “Walker, Texas Ranger,” was because he’s a widow and a father who happens to be in law enforcement. It was an exploration of everything that life could have to offer — heartbreak, disappointment, shame, love, becoming an empty nester — and I’m worse than heartbroken that we are not going to get to explore all those storylines. 

You’ve developed a tradition, on both “Supernatural” and “Walker,” of being the one to deliver the news of a renewal or a cancellation to your cast and crew. How did that happen this time around?

Yes. I talked to David Stapf at CBS and Brad Schwartz at CW before the announcement was made. And when Brad and I were talking, he was wildly flattering of “Walker” and what we had done, and he has his directives as well. He asked me, “Hey, how would you feel if we release the news or if you release the news? Do you have a preference? You’re CW royalty. You’ve been here since Day 1. How do you want to do this?” I thought about it, and I was like, “You know what, man? I think it might be best if I go ahead and make the announcement.” He was like, “Cool. Just go ahead.” And I asked him, “Do you want me to send what I’m going to post to you first, or do you want me to just go and post it?” And he goes, “We know you. We love you. We trust you. You don’t need to double check it with me. Just go ahead and send it when you’re ready.”

It was not easy to see the keyboard on my phone through the tears in my eyes, but I was grateful that I was allowed to [do that]. So often, when these big announcements are made, it’s like, “OK, here’s what’s going to happen. Don’t say anything until 1 p.m. in three days because we haven’t called all the outlets yet.” It felt like a very human send-off to go, “OK, do what you need to say, and we will reiterate it.” It felt like a great part of the closure that I’m still seeking. 

Did The CW ever give you a reason for the cancellation? Did it come down to budgetary reasons? Do you know any of the particulars?

Yeah. I talked with the head of CBS and the head of Nexstar/CW, I talked with the other [executive producers] on “Walker,” and I think it was a multivariate kind of issue. My understanding is — and again, this is just what I’m told — that Nexstar is going in a different direction with The CW. I mean, they have an hour of “Trivial Pursuit” and an hour of “Scrabble” coming up. I don’t know why you wouldn’t just download the app or grab a board game and play with your friends, but they’re clearly just — what’s that great quote? It’s like, “If somebody tells you who they are, ask questions. If somebody shows you who they are, believe them.”

I feel like The CW that I was a part of last year is not The CW that I was a part of under [former chairman and CEO] Mark Pedowitz for that entire, almost 20-year stretch. They’re just changing the network around, where it’s not really going to be a TV network as much as it’s going to be, “Here’s something fun for an hour that you’ll never watch again, but hopefully you watch it. And it’s cheap!” And I hate to say that, but I’m just being honest. I mean, fuck it. They can’t fire me again. I’m just being brutally honest. I think it felt to me like they were looking for really easy, cheap content that they could fill up time with.

You’ve only had a few weeks to process the cancellation, but have you given any thought to what you will do next?

I left two days [after the cancellation was announced] to go to Europe for work and then for play. My wife and kids met me out there, and we took a little vacation that was already planned. It was strange, and it was both horrible and wonderful. It was horrible because I really wanted to grieve. I really wanted to sit there and grieve, and call my cast. But here I was, eight or 10 hours ahead of their time zone, and I couldn’t make a phone call to everybody I wanted to make. The texts would come in when I woke up in the morning, and I just wanted or needed a personal connection with everybody who I had worked with for so long. But it was great, because I had a lot of distractions.

But I haven’t taken a whole lot of time just yet to think about what’s next. I kind of said this at the end of “Supernatural”: I wasn’t interested in acting [again], per se. I do love producing. I love the production aspect, and I love the problem-solving that comes with it. So there are a few things that my wife and I are in the process of developing that I would love to produce and act in. But beyond that, I still feel like I haven’t grieved the loss of “Walker,” so I don’t know yet if I trust my feelings. That sounds like a cop-out. I’m so sorry.

No, that’s a totally valid answer, considering that you openly spoke about how you hoped “Walker” would last just as long as, if not longer than, “Supernatural.” It’s natural that you wouldn’t necessarily know where to go from here.

Yeah, I don’t want to disappear into the bushes by any means, but I kind of want to disappear into the bushes. But hopefully, at this point in my life, and much like Cordell realized at the end of Season 4, I need to take a good, long, hard look at my personal life and the time I spend with my family and my friends, and I need to stop being so aggressive and obsessed with work. I still want to work, but for now, you’ll find me in and out of the bushes, hanging out with family and seeing friends. If a project comes up and I don’t care about it, then money doesn’t matter. But if a project comes up and I love the story or there’s somebody I really want to work with, then all right, [I’ll do it].

One of the people that you presumably want to work with again is Eric Kripke, who already recruited your former “Supernatural” costar Jensen Ackles to star in his current show, “The Boys.” Now that your schedule has opened up, are you officially joining the final season of “The Boys”?

Well, I’ll say this: Kripke and I texted today. It’s not been written yet, but I think he was saying [the final season] doesn’t even film until 2025. So yeah, I’m going to go play in Kripke’s newest playground. I had a great time the first time around, so I’m sure I’ll have a great time here again. I love the show. I think it’s hilarious and exciting. But you were asking what my plans for the future were — and I love Jensen and Eric Kripke. Obviously, I’ll be indebted to [Kripke] and entangled with him forever. I met my wife because of him. I was Sam Winchester because of him. “Supernatural” happened because of him. So working with him on a show that I enjoy, I’m like, “Yeah, when do I fly out?” But I don’t think we would film until at least January. 

Your body of work has spanned so many genres, but is there a specific genre that you are looking to explore next?

I thought “Walker” was kind of a mixture of “Gilmore Girls” and “Supernatural.” It was a family show with excitement and stunts, and macro storylines married with the micro. You know what? There’s a script that I love, and if we can get it turned into something, then I’d love to be a part of it. It’s actually a sitcom, but not a slapstick or knee-slapping sitcom. It’s kind of like a family-esque sitcom. It could actually be an hourlong show that you’d kind of define as a sitcom.

One of the things I really enjoyed about “Walker” was the humor that I was able to try and bring to screen, because my characters on “Gilmore Girls” and “Supernatural” were more stoic and serious, and I am by nature a much goofier person than the characters I’d played for 20 years. It terrifies me, because I think I’m funny among friends, but I don’t think I’m a funny person. I just think I’m goofy.

I’d like to explore that. It’s scary. It’s something I haven’t done, and I think I’d be very intrigued. 

It seems very difficult for dramatic actors to make that transition to comedy.

It’s so difficult!

You’ve now starred in over 450 episodes of primetime network TV, which is no small feat. What is your biggest takeaway from the time you’ve spent on The WB and The CW? When you think back to your biggest aspirations when you began on “Gilmore Girls,” how did your dreams ultimately compare to your reality?

Yeah, it’s been a long time. I think there’s some form of the saying, “If I only knew then what I know now…” Oftentimes, [this is] such a cutthroat industry. I think I spent so long in my adult life trying to get to a point where I could live my life, where I felt comfortable, where I felt safe and secure. I love storytelling. I love storytellers. I love raconteurs. I love that friend we all have that can just talk for an hour, and you’re laughing, you’re crying, you’re interested, and you’re learning. I love being able to pretend to be one of those characters on screen.

But I think along the way, it feels like I really learned, “Hey, don’t work to earn. Work to learn.” And at some point in time, you’ve got to look in the mirror and go, “Hey, you’re working towards some ever-moving goalpost. Why don’t you try and enjoy it now?” I think that’s kind of where I sit now. We’re just about a month [removed] from the announcement that we weren’t picked up again, so it’s kind of funny how life imitates art, or art imitates life. What Cordell went through in the finale and what I’m going through now are mirrors. I’ll be 42 next month. Am I waiting until I’m 60 and I have 800 episodes of television or something? I have to live my life now. I’ve got a 12-year-old, a 10-year-old, and a 7-year-old. 

I think, ironically, in trying to tell somebody else’s story for so long, I’ve realized that my story has value too.

Variety

[silken-moonlight]

What we deserve - Part 1

Tiger shifter x Human nurse

A/N: Hi there my dear moonies. This is the first part of a collab with the wonderful @strawberrypoundtown and @the-witches-creatures please check out their profiles and stories. I am so in love with their characters.

Here you're gonna find out a little more about Zyran and I can't wait to write and read more.

The rain poured down onto the thick glass of the shop window of the large bookstore. Inside, the air had taken on the aroma of freshly ground coffee. The owner had recently invested in a high-end coffee machine for himself and the other workers there.

Zyran Rosefall, a part-time translator and full-time bassist with a love for books, currently stood in front of one of the many bookshelves. Rows upon rows of books, in this case, were romantic novels—typical love stories that were his guilty pleasure. The last few days had been filled with work and little time for himself, so the tigershifter decided to treat himself to a self-date. While he loved his friends and bandmates—Jesse, Teyo, Bruce, Ari, and Clayton—some days he needed a little time for himself.

Today was such a day. This day had been planned by him from morning to night. The bookstore was his first stop, where he browsed and purchased a few new books. Afterward, he would walk to his favorite coffee shop, have breakfast there, and take a peek into one of his new books. This would be followed by a visit to the swimming hall and then a quick return home. A hot bath, a delicious meal, and his evening spent on his couch with his newly acquired books…

As he dreamt of his day ahead, he stood before the books. A soft voice jolted him out of his reverie.

__

“May I?” you asked, wanting to reach for the books the tall man stood in front of. His gaze snapped down to you, his eyes catching you off guard. “Sure,” he answered, taking a step to the side. You gave him a polite smile, reaching for the hockey romance books at the top, only to sigh in frustration since you were a few centimeters too short to reach them. Damn those tall bookshelves!

“Here,” he said, handing you the book that you had reached for. “Thanks,” you replied, taking the book from him. In his other hand were already two books, both of which you had read already.

“Do you read the books?” you asked him. He nodded. “They are so good,” you said with a brighter smile. “I read them in the span of a day. The stories from those books are connected,” you told him. “Don’t spoil it for me,” was his answer, seemingly a little put off by your talking.

“I didn’t mean to, and I’m sorry for babbling. I just get so excited when I see someone reading the same books as I do.” The apology quickly came from your lips, not the first time and probably not the last time you were apologizing for talking too much. A slight smile tugged at his lips. “It’s okay… I assume you also don’t have people to talk about your books with?” You nodded. “My friends aren’t into the same books, sadly… I have a weakness for those cute love stories.” The man chuckled. “I must admit, I’ve developed one too. Here.” He reached for a book right next to you, pulling it out. “This is my absolute favorite book and the one that got me into these books.” You eyed the cover, powder pink with bright blue letters: Catching the Doctor’s Heart. A smile crept onto your lips as you read the description.

Quickly, you put that book onto your small stack of books. “That’s definitely coming home with me,” you tell him. The man smiles at you, something he doesn’t seem to do very often.

“Glad to be of help.” The man answers. “I’m Zyran. Zyran Rosefall.” He introduces himself. “I’m Y/N L/N. It’s really nice to make your acquaintance.” A chuckle is heard from him. “Any other books you would recommend to me?” Immediately you are on fire: “Absolutely, okay, so here is this - a bear shifter and human romance. Uh and this - an elven prince falls in love with a barista. Oh and let's not forget this one - a romance between a human man raised by shifters who feels all alone meeting a woman in the same situation.” You are so excited and pull the books out to show him.

Immediately, his slender fingers took the books from your hands. He looked at them for a moment before adding them to his stack of books. Zyran stood close to you, and his perfume or aftershave smelled amazing—a scent of eucalyptus and something woody that you couldn't quite identify, but it was absolutely intoxicating. You took a moment to look at him. His dark hair was slicked back, with a few white strands visible. He wore a black turtleneck and dress pants, likely expensive shoes, and a dark coat. In that moment, you realized how attractive he was—something you had simply overlooked in your euphoria about books.

“Those sound amazing. I was in desperate need of some new books,” Zyran told you. You looked up at him with a smile. “I did as well. I have a few days off and wanted to have a cozy weekend, so new books are a must-have.” He chuckled. “I understand. I have a ‘cozy day’ today.” You listened to him and then nodded. “So we have the same mission then. Do you maybe want to get coffee together and talk more about books?” Zyran suddenly smiled widely. “Yes, I have a café I go to regularly. We could go there.”

Thus, the two of you briskly walked to the register, purchased your new books, and exited the bookstore. The rain continued to pour. Zyran opened a black umbrella and gestured for you to take his arm, saying, "Come." A bit surprised, you took his arm, and the two of you walked under the umbrella in silence for a moment. It was not an uncomfortable silence, but rather quite pleasant. Raindrops drummed on the fabric of the umbrella. There were not many people outside, and the street was empty except for the two of you.

“Isn’t it strange?” Zyran asked suddenly. “How all people, no matter the type, love the smell of rain. I’ve never met a human or supernatural who doesn’t.” His smooth voice sounded next to you. You nodded along: “It is strange, isn’t it? For me, it smells a little like nostalgia.” “I agree, it's… nostalgia and new beginnings. I like to meditate, and sometimes I do it outside. One time, it was pouring like it is right now, and…it was such a spiritual experience. It was like everything was cleansed: mind, body, and soul.” You listened eagerly as he leaned down a little so you could hear him better. “That sounds amazing. I have yet to have such an experience.”

With that, the two of you arrived at the cafe. Zyran opened the door for you, and the two of you went in. It was empty except for the barista, who smiled at the two of you. After you took your coats off and put away the soaking wet umbrella, you sat down. Taking a look at the menu, you went back to the counter to order.

____________

The next two hours, the two of you began talking about books, though you didn’t stay on that topic. You drifted over to music, clothing, and skincare. Seemingly, you share a lot of interests. While you were still more of a creative person, Zyran did a few sporty things too. “I like to believe that if I control my body, I can control my mind as well,” he explained to you while drinking his second coffee. You nodded. “I understand completely. I’m just not that sporty.” He listened and added, “I mean, not everybody is the same. I’m a tiger shifter, so I have it in my blood already.” Your eyes widened. “Is that why your hair has white strands?” you asked him.

Zyran chuckled, he liked you, immediately taking a liking to you while you two were still in the bookshop. Now he sat here with you, talking away and listening. Usually he wouldn’t have agreed on something like this…But you were just so nice and kind, he could not say no. Not when you listened so eagerly to everything he had to say and looked like him with those eyes. It stroked his ego immensely…and honestly he enjoyed this more than he wanted too.

“Yes, that is why my hair has these white strands. I am a white tiger shifter. How about you, sweetheart?” He asked. “I’m a human, but I’ve got nerves made of steel since I am a nurse.” Again he laughed gently, reveling in your humor. “Also, what did you think was the reason my hair was white if not because I was a shifter?” You shrugged. “I don’t know. I just didn’t want to be rude,” you answered, which made the two of you laugh.

“Let's exchange numbers,” Zyran suggested, for he didn’t want this to end. Yet, he knew it would, sooner or later. "Sure. Here's mine.” You told him and showed him your phone. Quickly, he typed your number into his phone. He sent you a text, and you saved his number.

“I do have to leave later. I still have to go grocery shopping,” you tell him. “Oh, sure. We definitely have to repeat this. I really enjoy talking to you,” he said, his light gray eyes holding your gaze. You nodded with a smile. “I agree. Also, the coffee is on me,” you said to him. He arched an eyebrow. “Forget it, it's on me.” A smirk spread across his face. “The first person at the counter invites the other,” he said, and both of you quickly got up. Both of you hurried to the counter, trying to pay, but Zyran was quicker. “Hah!” he exclaimed with a laugh, grinning down at you. “I was faster, sweetheart.” You pouted but had to laugh as well. “Next time is on me, then.” Again, he smirked at you. “Sure thing…”

Both of you then got your things and said goodbye. Sadly the two of you had to go into different directions.

Zyran thought about you the whole day, even when he was in the bath reading his new books; you invaded his mind. The way you laughed made him feel warm inside, and your scent drove him insane. Were you aware of how good you smelled to him? Probably not. The way you had gently taken his arm when offered...usually he hated when people touched him...but your touch felt different. It felt safe and welcome...

Suddenly, he remembered that the two of you hadn't even talked about your jobs. He knew you were a nurse, and you knew he was involved in music, but that was it. It had been so easy to talk to you. While it felt good, it scared him a bit.

Another hour later he couldn’t take it anymore.

Zyran: It was wonderful talking to you today, sweetheart. I'd like to repeat that. Do you have time for me tomorrow?

Y/N: In the afternoon, I do have time. Do you want to go to the coffee shop?

Zyran: We could also have dinner together? I know an amazing Japanese restaurant.

Y/N: I love Japanese food. Let's go there together.

Zryan: Wonderful! I would like to pick you up, if that would be all right with you. I own a motorcycle.

Y/N: I've never sat on something like that before, but I definitely want to try it.

Zyran: Wonderful. Then good night, sweetheart.

Y/N: Good night, Zyran. Sleep well.

[jewishcissiekj]

and now I find myself with the desire to gatekeep Asajj's Legends wookiepedia page

[chirpsythismorning]

S5 opener REAL

[pochapal]

the fact that kinzo's formal character introduction breaks form by happening in a separate narrative moment and not when battler meets/observes him for the first time in the story and the fact that kinzo is the only character for whom this is the case is. hm. weird to say the least.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

If you were to write Lila would you keep her being a con artist criminal with multiple identities but hinted at/revealed it earlier than S5 or would you cut that part down of her character entirely ?

It would really depend on how much space I had to fill. Gabriel is not the kind of villain that you can draw out forever. His story needs to have a clearly planned ending right from the start. In fact, I think they drew him out at least a season too long. So, if I also had to fill eight seasons, I could see myself going the Lila route. I'd just make a few changes. Off the top off my head, here's how I'd handle serious villain Lila as opposed to what canon wrote, which is petty school bully Lila who is entirely unbelievable as a serious villain.

First of all, Lila wouldn't be introduced at the end of season one. While her and Gabriel probably need to have some overlap, that's way too soon. In my version, she shows up at the start of season four and she'd be heavily toned down. We'd know that something was off about her, we may even keep the liar thing, but it would be a lot more subtle. Lies like, "Ladybug rescued me" and "I got to go backstage at a Jagged Stone concert" instead of "Ladybug is my bff" and "Jagged Stone wrote a song about me." Her goal would no longer be gaining peons, but instead gaining true close friends who like and trust her. The reason for this is that Lila is replacing Optigami as Mayura's last sentimonster.

See, season three ended with all those identity reveals and most of the revealed identities are in the same class. That's curious, so it makes perfect sense for Nathalie and Gabriel to want someone undercover in Adrien's class, but they can't do it. So Nathalie makes a sentikid of her own, gives her the power of manipulation, and sends her off to try to find Ladybug and/or Chat Noir by whatever means necessary.

This would give a clear reason for Gabriel to trust Lila, a clear reason for Lila to know all about the miraculous, and a clear reason for Lila to hate Ladybug. In this version, I wouldn't do Nathalie's lackluster redemption. Instead, Nathalie stays bad right up to her death. Perhaps her last act is getting the butterfly to her daughter and ordering her to get revenge on Ladybug and Chat Noir should Gabriel fail. After all, Gabriel can't wield more than six miraculous at once, so it makes sense for him to send Nathalie off with at least one of them while he enacts his master plan just in case it fails.

That's just one potential path to take. I also like the idea of having Lila be someone who came to Paris in order to find the miraculous, but who has no ties to the Agrestes. That would require some pretty big changes to her character, though, as I can't see that type of character caring about things like dating Adrien or being a model or all the other crap that has nothing to do with gaining a miraculous and everything to do with popularity and social clout. Lila canonically doesn't know that Gabriel even has a miraculous until the final of season four, so she basically just lucked into finding one instead of doing anything logical to find it because this show has no clue how to actually write smart, clever characters.

In summary, I'm totally fine with complex, master-manipulator Lila, it's just hard to figure out the best way to make her work when we don't know anything about her backstory or motivation. The version proposed above is just the best I can do to fit her into the role canon placed her in. A role I could easily see later seasons flat out ignoring.

[cy-cyborg]

Toph Beifong doesn’t hold up as disability representation - Disability in the Media

[ID: A screenshot of Toph, a twelve-year-old girl with black hair in a loose, green and tan short-sleeve shirt and shorts, cheering in an arena. Next to text written in a rough, blocky font: "Disability in Media - Toph Beifong Doesn't hold up as disability representation" /End ID]

Avatar the Last Airbender is one of my all-time favourite TV-shows, and Toph is still easily one of my favourite members of Team Avatar. I was a few years younger than Toph when the show first started airing, and being a disabled kid who was into martial arts, constantly being dismissed by my able-bodied opponents and teachers, meant that I connected very strongly with her right from the get-go.

But upon my last couple of rewatches of the series, I began to come to the realisation that my opinions on Toph as a shining example of good disability representation were... well, pretty heavily influenced by my nostalgia for the show and that many aspects of Toph's character just don't hold up today. Which, honestly is fair, the show is nearly 19 years old (if it were a person in my country, it would be old enough to drink) and I think it's pretty ridiculous to expect every part of every character from an 19 year old show to age well. So today I wanted to talk about the things I think Avatar the original Last Airbender did right with Toph, where I think they missed the mark, and what changes I think would need to be made to Toph to make her work for a modern audience.

So let's start with why I think Toph doesn't really hold up as "good disability representation" today, and the elements of her character that just haven't aged as well.

For me, one of the biggest issues I noticed upon rewatching the show, is how often we are told (often by Toph herself) that she is blind, but how infrequently we are actually shown it's impact on her life beyond her bending or outside of jokey contexts. Outside of her bending, we only ever see her blindness impacting her ability to do things like read or write, otherwise, she functionally has full vision -so far as the audience is informed - with the only exceptions being when she's in the air or water (e.g. on Appa or in the submarines) or in loose soil (e.g. the desert). Having places and circumstances where she doesn't have access to her power that allows her to "see" was a step in the right direction, but I do think it would have been better if her seismic sense wasn't quite as accurate, even in the most ideal of circumstances.

But why? Well, I think Suki explains it really well, long before Toph is even introduced. when Sokka says "I should have seen you as a warrior instead of a girl" Suki stops him and says "I am a warrior, but I'm also a girl". Being a warrior and a woman are both important parts of Suki's character, and only recognising her as one or the other means ignoring a big part of who she is, and the same is true for Toph. Being blind is a big part of toph's character that has informed a lot of her life, but so is being a warrior and bending master. Many people see Toph as a warrior or fighter, but ignore her disability, but both are important. She's disabled, and a warrior, and those things don't cancel each other out, the same way being a warrior doesn't diminish Suki's status as a woman.

When the show was still airing though (and even still today) it was very common to see non-disabled fans of the show exclaiming that they honestly forget that Toph is even blind sometimes, with many people going so far as to say that she's not even disabled (and that this was a good thing). While I do think some of that comes from the fact they weren't used to seeing a disabled character as both disabled and an active participant in these kinds of stories, I do think this mostly happened because of the show's lack of, well, showing the impact of her blindness on her daily life and allowing her earthbending and seismic sense to erase the effects of her disability to some extent. It's much harder to forget a character is blind when it impacts their daily life in ways that are shown to the audience. This doesn't have to be in big, showy ways mind you, showing things subtly but consistently works way better than one "very special episode" type setup.

In the show as it is though, the seismic sense functionally gives Toph a perfect image of her surroundings until it's just not available anymore for *plot reasons*.

[ID: A black and white shot of Toph and how she sees the oponent she's fighting, with shockwaves radiating from him towards her to indicate how she's interpreting the scene. Her foe has jumped into the air and now has his hand dug into the ground of an arena, about to launch rocks towards her. /End ID]

In many ways, her picture of the world is better and clearer than what the non-disabled characters can see, leading to this feeling of her disability being erased. It may have been better though if the seismic sense could give her a general idea of big things in her immediate vicinity but she still missed the finer details, functioning at least a little bit more like a tactile/earthy-vibration version of the limited sight some legally-blind people have in real life. Things like a person's position, movement and overall pose would still be "visible" to her in a general sense, as well as big things in the environment (including things underground, since there are a few plot-points that require that), but smaller things like details about objects and creatures, people's facial expressions or what they're doing with parts of their body that have no direct contact with the ground (like their hands) is less clear. On top of this, she may struggle to detect smaller, lighter objects or creatures that realistically wouldn't cause much of a vibration at all. creatures as small and as light as Momo and Hawky for example might be detectable, but "fuzzy" to her, and anything smaller might make enough of a vibration to tell her it's there when it moves, but not enough for her to be able to tell what specifically it is without some other cue (such as sound). There are a few moments in the show that seem to imply this is what they were initially going for, but it's not really consistent, and is directly contradicted in her debut episode, "the blind bandit" when she explains that she can even "see" something as small as the ants off in the distance.

[ID: A shot of Aang, a twelve-year-old bald boy with an arrow tattoo on his head, dressed in a yellow and orange outfit, standing with Toph at night. In the foreground is an anthill will a trail of ants, which Aang is looking for. /End ID]

With an adjustment like what I'm suggesting though, she still serves her narrative purpose of teaching Aang the importance of being able to wait and listen - possibly even more so, as her needing to wait and collect more information in order to get a clearer image before striking, would back-up what Bumi tells Aang that he needs in an earth bending master. It would also still help to illustrate the connectedness of the world, a theme Toph continues to embody heavily in The Legend of Korra, while still showing the ways her disability impacts her more frequently.

When I talked about the "super-crip" trope a while back, I mentioned that one way to avoid the more harmful elements of the trope (where the character's disability is erased by their powers) is to use the ability in question more like a mobility or disability aid than a straight-up cure. The power should help them, but shouldn't make their disability redundant. People are creative and we would find ways to use a superpower or magic to help with our disabilities if it were available in real life, but what's the point of including a disabled character if you're just going to functionally erase their disability? For a character like Toph, I think this is the kind of approach that should be taken with her. Her seismic sense still helps her, but it's not a perfect replacement. (Ironically, I did use Toph as a "good" example of that trope, but I do think after this last rewatch, for the reasons I'm discussing here, I might have to backtrack that a bit).

I considered giving an alternative approach here, to keep the sensitivity of toph's seismic sense as it is in the show as is, but giving it draw-backs such as making her susceptible to sensory overload similar to what autistic people experience. However, while replacing one disability with another can work for some characters and stories, I don't think it's the best adjustment to make for Toph or any blind character, largely thanks to this also being a trope. The "blind (or d/Deaf) person who's other senses become super-human to make up for it" trope is very common in fantasy, sci-fi as well as older martial arts films, and while I'm not really the best person to cover it, I do know that members of both the blind and deaf communities have expressed a lot of frustration with it. Toph already falls into this trope quite a bit, and any suggestions I could make would have just dialled that element up to 11, and fixing one problem with another is never a good idea.

Another thing that actually did bug me for a while, even before my most recent rewatch of the show, is how Toph is treated on the rare occasions she does point out something won't working for her. There are a number of times where Toph advocates for herself and points out that something The Gaang is doing isn't accessible to her or sets a boundary to do with her disability, and she's either left behind, her concerns are brushed off or she's ignored entirely. The three most noticeable examples of this are in the Episodes "The Ember Island Players," "The Library," and Toph and Katara's segment of "Tales of Ba Sing Se."

In the Ember Island Players, Toph complains that the seats they have for the play are too high up and too far away, and she's unable to "see" what's happening on stage. Her friends don't really take any notice of her though except for Katara who tells her not to worry, "I'll tell your feet what's happening."

[ID: A shot of Katara, a fourteen-year-old girl with long brown hair and blue eyes, sitting with Toph, who is sitting with her arms crossed, annoying in a theatre seat. Both Toph and Katara are wearing red and gold, fire-themed outfits. Katara is looking at something off-screen. /End ID]

My problem here is that this particular kind of situation is something that is familiar to a lot of disabled people. Even the least independent disabled people I know get annoyed when their access needs or requests for accommodations, even among friends, are ignored and their pushback is brushed off with "don't worry, I'll just help you!" It's one of the first things that many disabled people tell non-disabled folks wishing to be better allies to us: you offering help instead of actually accommodating us isn't a good thing. We don't want to rely on others if we can avoid it, because honestly, non-disabled people often aren't very good at actually helping or in this case, relaying information to us without training and more often than not, it just results in us being left out. I find it very hard to believe a character as independent as Toph would accept that without any protest, especially considering that is pretty much exactly what ends up happening (even if the show didn't really acknowledge it). Katara never actually conveys anything about the play to Toph, except when she's attempting to throw Toph's words back in her face when she asks for clarification about the actor playing her - which ends up backfiring on her.

[ID: A shot from the same location as before, this time Toph has a huge smile on her face and is leaning on the balcony excitedly while Katara is leaning towards her, annoyed by her reaction. /End ID]

While it would have been better if Toph was actually listened to, it would have been…fine? if a justification was given for why they had to sit there (e.g. to avoid being recognised), if Katara had actually described the play for her. This wouldn't have been ideal, but it would have been better at least. In real life, many movies, TV shows (including this show's sequel series, The Legend of Korra) and other forms of visual media have an Audio Description track that does exactly that. If they weren't going to move for Toph to be able to see better, having Katara describe the play could have introduced kids to the fact this is an option. but instead it's brushed off, and I'll admit, it left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth, even back in 2006.

The Library is a bit more forgivable in my opinion, since Toph is still new to the group, but in this episode, she states that she doesn't want to go inside the spirit library because she isn't able to read and therefor there wouldn't be anything for her to do. However, it still would have been nice to see her friends consider this at all before they actually arrived. They could have (and should have) still gone, but some acknowledgement that they at least thought about the inclusion of their disabled friend would have been nice.

[ID: A shot of Aang, Katara, Sokka and another man are talking while looking down at a map on the table. Meanwhile, Toph is sitting on the other side of the table, completely disinterested as she sips from a large ice cup with her feet up on another chair. /End ID]

Alternatively, I do feel like Wan Shi Tong, a self-proclaimed all-knowing-spirit or his assistants would have been able to point her in the direction of something to interest her, since he does imply books aren't the only form of knowledge he collects.

The reason I mention this though is two-fold. In real life, disabled people are very often left out of "fun" group activities, whether that be in formal settings or in casual ones, like hanging out with friends. If the episode had been framed as "the Gaang learns about the library and decides to track it down," I might have been less critical, but it's specifically framed as something that at least starts out as a kind of break for the team where they all take turns picking out fun things to do so they can rest, and Toph's access needs not being considered at all until they're already there hits a bit close to home, especially since they just end up leaving her outside. Secondly, there's also a stereotype that disabled people (and especially blind people) don't belong in academia and places of learning, such as in this case, libraries. This stereotype is about as old as the concept of organised institutions of learning, and definitely isn't unique to AtLA, but the assumption is often that disabled people wouldn't be interested in more formal methods of learning, so it's not worth accommodating us. With blind people in particular, when I've seen this in media, the premise is often "well I can't read anyway so why bother?" which Toph definitely falls into here with no push-back against the trope.

[ID: A close up of Toph and the rest of the group, Katara, Sokka and Aang standing in a desert. Toph shrugs, looking bored, while the others looks confused and surprised with the exception of Katara, who looks mildly annoyed, standing with her hands on her hips. /End ID]

It does make sense that she would have been resistant to going in, and I'm not saying this episode should have turned Toph into a bookwork akin to Wings of Fire's Starflight (another blind character) or anything. But there was a chance in this episode to push back against some of these assumptions, and I think it's a shame they missed it. How cool would it have been if Toph had mentioned not feeling welcomed in more formal learning spaces because of her disability, which was just reinforced by the way her old earthbending instructor and her parents treated her. She decides to go inside the library anyway as "backup" in case something goes wrong, grumbling about it the whole way down. Wan She Tong starts his introduction mostly the same way, saying humans aren't welcome and Toph makes a snarky comment about it. Wan She Tong, equally offended that this human thinks he, the all-knowing-spirit, wouldn't have considered something, shoots back with an annoyed comment about humans being so self-centred. He explains that spirits come in all shapes and sizes, and not all of them have eyes, but they can still access his library. She's not the first sightless being in his study, and he-who-knows-ten-thousand-things knows this too. Once everyone is permitted entry, one of the knowledge seekers shows her to a series of slates about a lost earthbending form that she can actually read (or at least, "see" the pictures on) because it's carved. Or instead of a slate, it's a series of statues outlining the form, similar to what Aang and Zuko find in the episode "The Firebending Masters". Perhaps this form is something that helps her develop metal bending later on, and lays the groundwork for Toph becoming interested in teaching in the comics.

And finally, Toph and Katara's segment of Tales of Ba Sing Se. Katara convinces Toph to go get a makeover with her as part of a girl's day. Overall, this segment of the episode is pretty nice, and I liked that they showed that a person's gender expression (in this case, being a tom-boy) doesn't mean they can't like things outside of what we usually associate with that. Tom-boys can like girly things on occasion, and vice-versa, and I think this is an example of an episode that would seem a bit ham-fisted today, but honestly, was needed in 2006. However, there's a throw away joke where Toph says "as long as they don't touch my feet," and it immediately cuts to show spa workers filing down the calluses on her feet in a way so painful several staff are required to hold her down.

[ID: An image of Toph in a bath robe being held down in a chair by two spa workers while a third scrubs at her feet so hard that she is sweating. Meanwhile Toph is fighting against the two holding her down and has a facial expression like she is in a great deal of pain. /End ID]

this might be a minor thing in the grand scheme of the show, but it's still another example of Toph's boundaries about her disability and her access needs being disrespected by her friends, which the show just doesn't acknowledge it at all. People ignoring Toph's wishes about a part of her body she depends on in a much more direct way that others do is played off like a joke in a montage of otherwise enjoyable and goofy activities and this is a very, very common experience in disability circles.

There are a number of other, much more minor issues that show up with Toph as well, such as the fact she's the only one of the main cast who never has an on-screen (or on-page) relationship. not in the original show, not in any of the comics and not in The Legend of Korra. Again, it's not a big issue on it's own, especially because in AtLA, she's young enough where it's possible that she was just not interested yet, and she does have kids in The Legend of Korra where she mentions a relationship with a man named Kanto (Lin's father). So it is implied she does have some form of relationship eventually, but the issue is that it's never shown on screen or on the page. This feeds into a wider pattern in media of disabled characters being the only ones in their respective cast not given on-screen romantic relationships in stories, and so I still think it's worth pointing out, especially since the creators have had a lot of opportunities to correct that by now.

Toph is also portrayed, pretty much undeniably, as the best earthbener in a way that, at times, comes across almost like the creators felt like they need to compensate for her being on the team "despite" her being blind. This trope is one that I think Toph, at least partially, helped to popularise with the current generation of story tellers: The Disabled Savant. In this trope, disabled characters aren't really given the same room for growth as other characters; they aren't permitted to be average or still learning, they start good and get better. If they do progress, they often become the best, which is the case for Toph. To be fair, everyone in the The Gaang is the best at their respective skill by the end of the first series, which is why I say this is a minor point. She dose, however, have the least amount of on-screen growth in skill out of the whole team. Katara starts out barely able to lift any water at all, let alone actually bend it. Sokka is skilled with weapons from the start but does get his butt handed to him a number of times by others with more experience than him whom he learns from throughout his story arc. Zuko spends most of the early-to-middle of the show having things "blow up in his face" (to use his own words) and being belittled by his family of prodigies. While Aang is an airbending and, to a lesser extent, waterbending prodigy, he fails at pretty much everything else for a while before he starts to find his confidence - especially earth and firebending, not to mention the entire situation with locking himself out of the Avatar state. Toph is the only one who doesn't seem to fail or struggle all that much from a combat perspective. She does grow and improve in her bending (she invents metal bending after all) but she never has any moments where she really messes up or even struggles in combat all that much compared to the others.

All of these points and criticisms I've mentioned are not necessarily big in and of themselves, but when looked at together, they build up to create some issues with how Toph is depicted and how the people around her treat her disability

So that's it then? Toph is bad disability rep and Avatar should be "cancelled"?

God no. Like I said at the start, I still adore Toph and Avatar as a whole, but the show is a year away from being two decades old, it's bound to have some elements that don't hold up and I think it's worthwhile discussing them, specifically because I love the show and it's characters. Despite all the negativity I've brought up, I do think there are a lot of things AtLA did well with Toph too.

I've mentioned a few times that we rarely see how Toph's blindness impacts her life outside of her bending and combat abilities, and there's a reason I made that specification. Unsurprisingly, if you know much about the show's development, the ways in which Toph’s blindness and seismic sense impacts her bending and fighting style is one area where the show really does shine, and I still think that is worth a mention. The various types of bending are based on different styles of martial arts, specifically, different types of Kung Fu. Most earthbending in the show takes heavy inspiration specifically from Hung Ga, but Toph is different. Her bending heavily references Southern Praying Mantis Kung Fu, something unique to her within this world.

The reason for this (outside of simply wanting her to be visually distinct) was because the show’s creators made sure to consider what limitations Toph might have and what parts of the more common earthbending styles wouldn't work for her. Since her connection to the earth was critical in order for her seismic sense to work, they decided on a style that would keep her feet on the ground more, prioritised strong stances with minimal jumping and put more focus on attacking with her upper body. While not an intentional choice, the style they went with for Toph, according to the show's head martial arts consultant, Sifu Kisu, was supposedly developed by a blind woman in real life, at least according to legend. The creators also made further adjustments to the style with the help of martial arts consultants and just watching Toph fight is evident that a lot of love and care was put into the decisions made on that front.

I also appreciate that Toph's disability wasn't off-limits to joke about.

[ID: A picture of Toph waving her hand in front of her face with an exaggerated smile to remind the others she's blind. /End ID]

As I already mentioned, they didn't land 100% of the time, but lot of shows are afraid to use disability as a source of jokes, which would have felt weird and out of place in a show like Avatar. I see this hesitance in real-life too; people get extremely uncomfortable when I joke about my own disabilities and I've heard several people and even disabled comedians talk about the same observation. My last video on Tik Tok that got outside my usual audience was a joke about my prosthetic leg, and every single stictch and duet I received was people saying some variation of "I'm such a bad person for laughing!" "I'm going to hell!" or just straight up asking if they're aloud to laugh. If I didn't want you to laugh, I wouldn't have posted the joke! But joking about disability does make it more approachable. Despite how often Toph and the others made blind jokes though, outside of the one instance I mentioned earlier, they never felt mean-spirited or like they were punching down. Even when a very sleep-deprived Katara was intentionally trying to be.

I think it's also worth keeping in mind the context of the media landscape when Avatar The Last Airbender was airing. Today, characters like Toph are very common, so much so there's a whole trope about them (super-crips) but at the time, having a character with a major disability be a main character in an action-orientated kids show like Avatar was really rare. She wasn't the first of course, but a lot of the time, if they were included, they were almost certainly sad and depressed, wishing for a cure or they were designated to the roles of "Guy in the chair" (which is a character, usually a tech person, who helps from the background), inspiration, scary villain fake-out (or other variations of "creepy" character) or the actual villain. Having a character that was not only comfortable in her skin as a disabled person, who didn't want or need to be "fixed" or "cured" to be directly involved in the story, and who's main obstacle (at least in season 2) were how the people around her treated her, was pretty ground-breaking at the time (pun not intended) and went against the most prevalent stereotypes of it's day.

And I really want to emphasise that. For many Millennials and older Gen Zers, myself included, Toph was the first character that didn't tell us we were broken and needed to be fixed in order to be part of the group (even if they slipped up with that messaging occasionally). Prior to seeing Avatar, I honestly thought there was something deeply wrong with me for being happy with my life (a reminder, I was 10 years old when this show first started airing), because every other disabled person in the media only ever talked about how much worse their life was because of their disability, how much they hated it and how much they hated themselves. Many outright said that they wished they had died rather than become like me. Toph wasn't the first to go against those tropes, but she was the first example of a disabled character who wasn't like that many people my age saw. Did she do it perfectly? Hell no, but personally, back then, I was happy to have a character who maybe over-corrected and took things a bit too far than another sad character talking about how lives like mine weren't worth living.

I also deeply appreciated that Toph did struggle with her independence, at least initially, and where to draw the line with accepting help. Because of how much she'd been coddled and overprotected as a little kid, she saw any attempt at people being helpful and working as a team as them trying to baby her. It was very on the nose, but I liked that the show gave her an episode just dedicated to realising that it's ok to accept help. Again, this is a bit of a story telling trope today, but having the disabled character realise that it's ok to accept help, and to do it without talking down to them or saying that them wanting independence was bad, was a refreshing change compared to what was around at the time.

[ID: a zoomed out image of Toph, standing before her parents with Aang, Katara and Sokka standing behind her. /End ID]

While I think the show's creators could have benefited from consulting with disabled people and specifically blind people the same way they brought in consultants for the martial arts featured in the show, it's very clear to me that the intention behind Toph's character was good, and that actual effort was put in to make sure they depicted her well, even if some of it was a bit misplaced. It's also worth noting that the groundwork for a lot of my suggestions is already in place, they just didn't follow it all the way through. Overall, I'd say Toph was good for her time, and she's what was needed in the 2000's, even if she doesn't hold up as well today. I also think it speaks to how far we've come in terms of disability representation. When I first started engaging with the online fandom directly, almost no one, even other disabled people, argued that Toph wasn't good representation, because honestly, the bar was on the floor and we were just happy to have something different. But now there are options, and the standards are higher, and that's so, so good. It means that people, even in the media, are starting to listen and be more thoughtful about their depictions of disability than we were in 2006.

And finally, I want to really quickly mention The Netflix adaptation of Avatar. A few people have asked me now what I think they should do with Toph when they get to her, and what my predictions about the show are. I'm not going to talk about my predictions here, because this post is already way too long and that's not what this is about, but I don't think the suggestions I made today would necessarily work in this particular remake, primarily because of the tonal differences. Some adjustments definitely could, such the other characters doing a better job at listening to Toph when she points out inaccessibility and them actually considering her in the first place, but others might be harder to balance. The original show could get quite dark and serious at times, but it was primarily a light-hearted adventure story for kids. From what I've seen of the live action remake though, they're more heavily leaning into those serious elements - for better or for worse, and as such, trying to tone Toph down in the specific ways I mentioned might not balance out as well as it would in the original show. At the very least, the specifics would need to be different. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what approach they should take, that's not really the point of this post, but I did want to quickly address it to avoid confusion. My suggestions today were specifically on how to approach the cartoon version of Toph for a modern audience, and were not meant to be read as suggestions on how her live-action counterpart should be depicted.

[fallingdownhell]

If it's no bother the whole meeting family and sister being favoured ordeal but with Wanderer, Xiao, Childe and Tighnari please! Yummy comfort...🤤

Honestly.. I did my best with it, but I don't know if I'll do another addition to this from now on. It feels like I'm always writing the exact same thing, and I feel like it's getting boring and repetitive...

Let me know what you think about it, please, because I really don't know.

Characters Included: Wanderer; Xiao; Tighnari

Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; reader has a sister; hurt/comfort; mention of past (child) abuse; mention of child neglect; insults; slight racism against Tighnari; not proofread yet

Word count: 3,7k words

Requested by: @ahtopoteyto

Enjoy everyone<3

Wanderer

When you suddenly hit him with the question of wether he wanted to meet your parents or not, he was confused and slightly shocked. From what he had gathered over the time you've been dating, you did not have a very good connection with your parents.

You never really talked about them or told him stories about your childhood. The first few times he asked you about them, he vividly remembers how your face became pale and you simply stating that you didn't want to talk about this. So he let it be, not bothering you with it anymore.

So for you to suddenly ask him this after months of not even mentioning anything related to this subject, he found it highly suspicious.

"Where's this coming from so suddenly?", he asks, taking your hand and sitting you down on the couch next to him. He can already tell how much it cost you to simply ask him that question.

"W-well... I just thought that maybe it's something you'd want. I mean.. normally, in relationships, you introduce your parnters to your parents. So, I thought, maybe we should do that, too..?"

You sounded so meek and unsure of yourself, he hated to see you like this. He may not know the full story about what happened between you and your parents, but if it made you that uncomfortable just talking about them, then that's all he needed to know. He would never knowingly put you through something horrible.

So, to reassure you, he circled his arms around you, pulling you against his chest while placing his chin on top of your head as he just held you like this. "Don't force yourself to do something you don't want to do. Our relationship isn't exactly normal anyways. I don't care about meeting your parents. You don't like them, that's enough for me to also dislike them."

That made you laugh a bit, and he also relaxed a bit, knowing that if that could make you laugh, you were already feeling a bit better.

"Even so.. I think you should know why I don't have contact with them anymore..", you quietly spoke after some time.

"Only if you want to tell me. You don't have to force yourself.", was his answer, but you insisted, finally wanting him to know, since you've already kept it to yourself for so long.

And so, you told him about all the things you went through when you were younger, still living with and depending on your parents. You told him how you were the oldest child of your parents, and for a while, everything was good. There were normal, loving and even spoiled you a bit as a child.

But when you were 6 years old, your parents decided to have a second child, and so, your sister was born when you were 7. And suddenly, it was like you didn't exist anymore.

Your parents focused all their love and attention towards your baby sister, leaving you to figure things out by yourself. They at least still provided food for you, but anything else you were left to your own devices.

By the time you were 12 years old, you were practically living by yourself, though you were still in your parents house. You were cooking your own meals, doing your own laundry, managing school stuff and all that your parents were supposed to do for you.

Your sister was only 5 years old, she was just a happy child and didn't know about the clear favouritism and neglect going on. She was just a sweet child that wanted to play with her sister. You couldn't hate her, since she didn't do anything wrong.

From time to time, you tried to get your parents attention, either with your grades or other achievements, but they always brushed you aside to focus on your sister, since they claimed she needed their attention more than you did.

It hurt, and you kept on trying and trying, until eventually, you realised that it had no sense and you just stopped. You knew that they would never love you like they did with your sister. So, as soon as you could, you started a part time job to save up some money, so you could leave when you needed to.

The older you and your sister got, the more she also became aware of the favouritism. Luckily, it didn't grow over her head, and she tried her best to get your mom and dad to focus on you, too. But they never did. Instead, your sister spent time with you, which you were really greatful for.

When the time came, you were old enough and had enough money saved, you left your home. You told no one, except for your sister. She was sad to see you leave, but she understood why you did it, and wished you the best of luck. Even to this day, you hold some sort of loose contact to her.

Your parents however? You haven't heard a word from them since you've left. You weren't even sure if they've noticed your dissapearance, if they even remembered that they had an older child. But you were glad, you didn't want anything to do with them in the first place.

While listening to your story, Wanderer felt himself get more and more angry on your behalf. How dare they treat their own child in such a way? What kind of a parent would do such a thing?

He was gritting his teeth, clenching his fists. He wanted so bad to make them pay for what they did to you. But then he focused back on you, still in his arms, sobbing as you were telling him your story. No matter how much you reassured him that you were fine, it was still affecting you.

So instead, he focused and channeled his anger into the love and worry he had for you. He tightend his hold around you, planting a soft kiss to the top of your head. "I'm sorry you had to live through something like that. But that's all in the past. You're here now, with me. You've achieved so much for yourself and by yourself, so you can be proud of you. And I'll be by your side for each and every step in the future. I won't let something like this ever happen to you again. And if you ever want me to pay your parents a little visit... let me know."

That last statement brought him a small hit to his side, but he merely laughed it off.

You'd always be his number one. Forever and always..

Xiao

Having an Adeptus as your boyfriend, the Guardian of Liyue himself at that, you tried to spend as much time with him as you possibly could. For you, that meant spending ever second of your free time in or around Wangshu Inn, sometimes even spending the night there despite having your own living place.

Xiao appreciated this gesture of yours. You knew that he liked the Inn as his place of operation, and you didn't want to force him into spending time at your place, when he would only be anxious the entire time. So it was a compromise you were willing to make.

Today was a nice summer day. You were dressed in soft clothing, allowing the occaisonal gust of wind to cool your skin down as you were standing on the top balcony of the Wangshu Inn, observing the scenery before you. Xiao was currently out somewhere, so you had decided to wait for him here.

While you were observing, leaning your body against the railing, you suddenly felt the presence of someone behind you. Before you could turn around, a pair of arms came around from behind you, encircling your body as his hands found purchase on the railing, next to yours.

You immediately recognized him, a smile spreading as you felt his body leaning against yours, his soft lips pressing against your exposed shoulder.

"You should be more careful. I wouldn't want you to lean to far over and falling to your death.", he mumbled, staying close to you, searching for the physical contact.

You loved how openly he showed his love and affection to you when it was just the two of you, no one else around to witness this soft moment of his. "I'm sure you'd catch me before anything could happen to me.", you reply, intertwining your hand with his.

"And you'd be absolutely right."

You smile but don't say anything more as you stay with him like this, enjoying the way his body feels against yours. If only this moment could last forever...

But alas, it didn't last nearly as long as you'd want it to. Soon enough, you could hear some shouting from below, coming from the reception. You heard the Boss Lady, Verr, call after someone. "Sir, please! You can't just barge up there!"

But whoever that man was, he just ignored her as both you and Xiao could hear the heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. With one last look at each other, you break apart to an appropriate distance, figuring that whoever this was was probably here to seek the help of the Adeptus.

However, as the man arrived at the top balcony, your breath got caught in your throat as you recognized the man standing in front of you.

His eyes found yours, and you saw a glimpse of something wash over his face that you couldn't quite name. Xiao also noticed this, choosing to remain silent for now, but closely watching both of you. He may not know who this man was, but it was obvious to him that you recognized him.

"Dad?", you then asked, still hoping that this was just some bad dream you'd wake up from any second now.

"(Name)! I finally found you! You weren't at home, so I've been searching everywhere for you."

The man, your father, made a step towards you, but as soon as he did, you also took a step back. The motion didn't go unnoticed by Xiao. You were clearly uncomfortable with your father being here, so he was preparing to step in the second things threatened to go out of control.

"What do you want?", you ask him, not wanting to spend any more time in this mans presence than you absolutely have to.

"What, a father can't visit his child?", he asked, letting out a chuckle, but everyone present could tell how fake it sounded.

"Just tell me what you want already."

Your father threw you a glare, but relented nonetheless. "Fine then. Your mother and I were hoping for a bit of financial aid from you. Your sister wants to study at the Academiya of Sumeru, but we lack the money to help her with that. We heard that you were doing pretty good for yourself, so, naturally, you'd help out your family a bit. Right?"

The last word sounded almost threatening, like refusing would cause you serious consequences. You knew that tone in your fathers voice all too well, having been "disciplined" by him most of your life if you ever dared refuse him.

This entire situation was almost laughable to you. You haven't had contact with either your parents or your sister in years, since you finally left their home for good. And now, after years of silence, they suddenly remember you, only to come crawling and begging for money. Which they plan to spend on your sister.

As it always was. It's always been her over you.

"..No.", you say after a few seconds of silence. Hearing your answer, your fathers forced smile drops and he stares at you, like he couldn't believe the word that just left your mouth.

"What did you say?", he asked, his voice ice cold and you flinched a bit, hiding a bit behind Xiao as you were still scared of this man, but you refused to subject yourself to him again.

"I said No. I'm not giving you any money."

Your response was hanging in the air for a bit, when suddenly, anger started to show on your fathers face and he then began lunging towards you, one arm raised as if to slap you.

"You ungrateful, little-!", he yelled and was about to take a swing at you, when suddenly, within the blink of an eye, he was laying on the floor, face pushed onto the ground, with Xiao standing over him, restraining your fathers hands.

"You will not put your hands on them. I won't allow it."

Your father was cursing and screaming, trying to escape the hold Xiao had him in. But the more he struggled, the more force Xiao put into holding him down, which only worsened the curses thrown at the both of you.

Witnessing this, the reality of what would have happened to you if Xiao wasn't there with you sank in, and you felt your knees giving out, sinking to the floor as tears subconsciously began to run down your cheeks.

Noticing this, Xiao quickly reassed the situation as he leaned down to your father. "Leave. And don't you dare ever come back. If I see or hear you bothering them ever again, I won't be so mercyful next time."

Then, he let go of your father and rushed to your side, checking in on you. Your father cursed some more as he finally got to his feet again and quickly left the scene, and hopefully, your life as well.

You on the other hand, were a mess right now. Tears running down, you were sobbing as you held onto Xiao like your life depended on him. He let it happen, soothingly running a hand along your back as he just held you, letting you cry it all out.

After you've calmed down again, he just has to talk about what just happened. "I take it this happened more than once to you?", he asked softly, referencing the moment your father tried to lay hands on you.

You couldn't say the words, so you just nodded as a response. Xiao felt anger rising in his chest, but he held it under control focusing on you, since you needed him right now.

"What else has he done to you?"

And so, with shaky breath and lots of pauses in between, you tell him about all the abuse and the clear favouritism of your sister you've been going through your entire childhood, up until the day you ran away from them for good.

Xiao was in shock that parents could do such a thing to their own child. And even if he wanted to go out and make them pay for their actions, there's nothing he could do. He was bound by a contract to protect the people of Liyue. He couldn't harm them. But he could protect you..

So, he takes you in his arms again, holding you close to him as he softly speaks into your ear. "I'm so sorry for everything that happened to you. From now on, you won't have to worry about them any longer. I'll protect you. From them and any other harm that tries to make their way to you."

And you knew that he meant every word he said. You knew that you could trust Xiao with everything, most importantly your life, and he'd guard it as his most treasured possession. With him by your side, you finally felt safe for the first time in your life...

Tighnari

Working as a Forest Ranger has always been a lifelong dream of yours. Doing so with the love of your life by your side was that dream actually coming true to you. Sometimes, you just stare at Tighnari, wondering what you did to get so lucky to have him as your partner. How you deserved him in the first place.

He always laughed a bit and softly reprimanded you, but he never did so with ill intent. When he did that, you could always see the genuine love he held for you in his eyes, clear as day.

When it came to your relationship, everything happened a bit slowly, as per Tighnari's request. Since his species only has one partner their entire life, he wants to make extra sure that this will work out.

You take your time with going on several dates, where he explains to you the basics of his kind, what to do and what not to do, with him and others of his kind. But nothing he told you ever scared you away from him. If anything, it made you fall for him even more.

Then came the day when he wanted you to meet his parents, before you were making things official with him. You were nervous to meet them, but luckily, his parents instantly took a liking to you, especially his mom. She was over the top with her sons choice in a partner and the both of them gave you two their blessings.

The day after, you finally made things official, telling everyone of your friends that you were dating, and everyone was congratulating you. Word also spread among the other Forest Rangers, and soon enough, you were also bombarded with congratulations from them, as well.

Life was going good, but there was one thing that Tighnari was still thinking about.

You've met his parents, but he's never once met yours. Matter of fact, you don't even talk about them all that much. He's asked you one or two questions about them, but he soon came to the conclusion that this wasn't a topic you were too fond to speak about.

He did ask you why that was, but when you only gave him vage answers and excuses, he dropped the topic, figuring that it wasn't too important anyways. The main issue was your relationship, not some outside opinion. He thought that you'd come around and tell him more once you felt ready to do so.

Unbeknownst to him, that day would arrive much sooner than he anticipated.

One day, as Tighnari was about to head out for one of his patrols, he noticed you standing at the entrance to Gandharva Ville that led to Sumeru City, talking to two figures he didn't recognize. He thought for a second before he decided to head over to see what was going on.

As he got closer, he began to pick up on some signs of distress coming from you, which already set him a bit off edge. Then, he picked up on the voices and realised that you were arguing with those two individuals. He didn't know what it was about, but that wasn't important.

".. you understand, (Name)? We only want the best for you, so-!"

"Excuse me. Is everything alright over here?", Tighnari interrupted the conversation, and as you turned around to him, he couldn't help but notice the relieved look on your face. He gave you a sympathetic look before turning back to the other two visitors, who looked upset at being interrupted so rudely.

"And who are you?", asked the man, while the woman nodded along with him. Before Tighnari could say anything, you were already at it.

"This is Tighnari, Leader of the Forest Rangers, and my boyfriend. Tighnari, those are my parents.", you said as you vaguely gestured with your hand between them.

Tighnari's eyes widened as he heard you introduce them. He cleared his throat before extending a hand to your parents. "It's nice to finally meet you."

However, instead of taking his hand, your father simply ignored him, while your mother looked at him for a second, before scoffing and focusing back on you. "Seriously, (Name)? You got involved with someone like him? You could do so much better for yourself.", your mother said, looking at Tighnari with disgust, specifically at his more animalistic features.

"..Excuse me?", Tighnari asked again, retracting his hand. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. When he looked back to you, he saw you gritting your teeth, yet when you spoke again, he heard the strain in your voice as you tried to remain polite with your parents.

"Like I already said, I'm happy with my life here. I'm happy with Tighnari. Nothing you do or say can change my mind about it."

"Quit being stupid already, (Name)! Now that your sister isn't taking over the family business anymore, we need you to come back and take over. We also found a suitable marriage candidate for you. If you would just-!"

"I said No!", you interrupted them again, this time however, all the politeness has left your tone.

"I know you only never bothered me about coming back till now, because you were betting on my sister to take over. You'd never force her to do the things you want her to do, but doing it to me is fine for you?

I'm done with that. I have my life here, doing what I always wanted to do, with the love of my life with me." To undermine your words, you stand next to Tighnari and take his hand in yours. The action fills him with pride, as well as the fact that you're standing up for him to your parents.

"So, you can either accept that fact, support me and still be a part of my life. Or, you can leave, and never bother any of us again."

You finish your little speech, your mother gasping at your words, but your father quickly takes her and ushers her away, leading them back to the city.

As the two walked away, you let out a deep breath, relief washing over you as they walked away. You were still holding onto Tighnari's hand when he spoke up again. "I take it that was why you didn't want me to meet them, am I right?"

"I'm so sorry about that. I know I should have told you, but I never wanted you to have to go through that. I already don't have a very good relationship with them, and I didn't want it to affect you, as well."

Hearing that, Tighnari smiled as he turned towards you to take you in his arms. "Thank you", he whispered into yours ear.

You nodded against him. You'd always stand up to your parents again, without another thought, if it meant you were doing it for him...

[surftrips]

BAD REPUTATION | LUKE CASTELLAN

DISTRACTION — CHAPTER 03

pairing luke castellan x fem!ares!reader

summary y/n's guitar practicing is interrupted several times.

author's note slowly introducing more of the social media aus into these fics! you can view all of the characters’ twitter accounts here.

→ installment of this au read for context

The weather outside was beautiful. Kids were strewn out around camp, some were by the lake while others found shade in the armory or stables. You, however, were in your cabin all alone. You knew that this was one of the few times it would be empty, so you snuck away from archery to practice your other instrument– your guitar. 

You began strumming the first few notes to a song you had been working on. Quietly singing the lyrics to yourself, you were reminded of a time before camp.

It was back when you were still with him. You recall how your back leaned against his as he helped move your fingers to the correct strings, how he guided your hands to the right positions, he was always so patient with you. But that had all come crashing down when the monsters in your head became real, too real for him to deal with. 

Anyway, that was a long time ago now. You went back to strumming your guitar and tried to push the memory away, but you couldn’t. You hated that he still occupied your mind, no matter how hard you tried to move on. 

You thought that coming here would help, and it did for a while. Other boys became distractions and temporary fixes, but then there was Luke, who confused and terrified you.

When Annabeth and Clarisse brought him up at your sleepover the other night, you felt the need to hide. The bravest girl in camp, and you couldn’t face your own feelings. It made you feel weak, and you hated that.

Realizing that you got distracted once again, you resumed singing for a third time. 

It wasn’t long before you heard the sound of keys dropping followed by“shit.” You looked up from where you were sitting cross-legged in bed to see who it was.

“Hello?” you called out.

A bashful curly-haired boy peeked his head into your door. You frowned. 

“Hey Y/N, sorry for interrupting you,” Percy said, slowly. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be training right now?”

“Y-yes,” the boy stammered. “But Luke needed me to get something from Hermes cabin for him.”

“You do realize this is Ares, right?” 

“Right, I just-” 

“Just…?” You knew you were being a little rude to the boy, but it had been a while since you messed with the campers. You couldn’t have them thinking you went soft all of a sudden. 

“Sorry, I was just walking by and I heard someone singing and I figured it must be you, so I just stopped for a second to listen.”

“Okay, stalker.” 

“I wasn’t stalking, I swear!”

“Whatever, just get going before Luke gets mad at you too.” 

Not needing you to tell him twice, Percy rushed away. Sighing, you went back to your guitar for the umpteenth time. 

📥 INCOMING MESSAGE FROM: PERCY

You enjoyed about 30 more minutes of peace before you heard a soft knock on your door. Grumbling, you climbed out of bed, ready to scare the camper away. 

“I swear to god-” you started.

“Hey, hey, I come here in peace,” Luke put his hands up defensively. 

“Ironic because you’re actually disturbing my peace. What is it with everyone bothering me today?” 

“Look, I came here to apologize for Percy earlier.”

“You wasted your time because this could have been a text then,” you said. You were usually nicer to Luke than the rest of the campers, but you hadn’t been in a good mood recently, not since the sleepover and not since you started working on this song. 

He must have noticed your change in attitude toward him because he asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” you said quickly. “And even if it weren’t, I’m not going to bother you with my problems.” 

“You’re not a bother,” he responded sincerely. 

“Well, I’m glad you think that. But us Ares kids, we have to take care of ourselves. I’m used to it.” 

“Just because you’re used to something doesn’t mean it’s the way things should be.” 

“Oh, my bad, Castellan. I didn’t take you for a philosopher.” 

“Alright, whatever. I just came to apologize for Percy, I’ll leave you to your moping.” 

“Hey! I’m not moping!” you said, defensively. 

“It sure does look like it,” he said, scanning the room and landing on the mess of sheets on your bed and the snack bags you had discarded haphazardly on the floor. 

“I’ll have you know I’m actually working on a very special project, so. This is what the room of an artist looks like.” 

“Oh?” he chuckled. “Is that so?”

“Mhm, I can show you.” 

“Alright, bet,” he found a spot next to you on your bed and watched as you set up your guitar. 

You strummed the first few verses of your song, hyper-aware of how close the boy next to you was right now. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck, and closed your eyes as you slowly allowed yourself to lean into him, softly singing the lyrics. 

When you got to the chorus, you cleared your throat. “Uhm, here is where I’m getting stuck a bit, because everyone keeps barging in here.” 

“Is this the part where you ask me to leave then?”

You stared into his brown eyes. You wondered how anyone’s eyes could look so soft, could hold so much emotion. Did he look at everyone like this? 

“Y/N?” he said, after a moment.

Shit, how long were you staring at him for? And was your mouth open the entire time? 

“Sorry, I thought I saw something in your eye. Probably just a piece of dust,” you laughed nervously. “Uhm, yeah, I think I need another hour or something to finish this song, but I’ll see you at the campfire tonight, yeah?”

If Luke was disappointed, he didn’t look it. “Yeah, of course, I gotta head back to my counselor duties anyway.” 

He saluted you playfully as he turned around to leave, being sure to close the door after him.

[bettsfic]

writing cheats

i know i’ve probably written about these all individually but i’m putting them together in one post. these are writing tricks that are extremely cheap and dirty; when you use them it feels like cheating and honestly by posting them i’m probably exposing all the easy moves in my own work, but more than a writer i am a teacher, so here you go, some writing cheats that have never steered me wrong.

quick character creation

what’s really annoying is when you have two characters sitting at a restaurant or something and the server has to come by. to what degree do you describe the server so that it’s clear they’re just a background character but that they’re not just a faceless form, so that the world has texture without taking up too much space on the page? rule of three, babeyyy: two normal things and a weird one.

she had pale skin and blue eyes but her hair was dyed black like a 2010 emo kid.

he was tall and broad, and he wore a sweatshirt with an embroidered teddy bear on it.

the woman stood there comparing the prices of toilet paper. she had a short angled bob and carried a keychain the length of a trout.

why does it work? it gives the reader something to hang onto, a brief observation that shows the world exists around your narrator. it also works when introducing main characters, but there’s so much action going on that you can’t take time to write a rich long paragraph about them. all you need is a little hook.

quick setting creation

i used to TOIL over descriptive paragraphs. for years i was like, description is my weakness, i must become better at developing imagery. i believed this because a famous writer once projected a paragraph i had written onto a screen and asked my cohort, “count how many images are crafted in this paragraph.” there were none. none! my friends were sitting there like, “we are TRYING” but they couldn’t find any.

i would say that after years of studying imagery development at the sentence level, i am, perhaps, competent at it, but what was more helpful was for me to shrug and tell myself, “i’m just not a writer who does that.”

anyway. my cheat is thus: 

there’s not much you can assume about your audience. the audience is not a homogenous whole. but your ideal audience is something you can guess at, and that means you can play around with their existing knowledge and expectations. 

if you say your characters are in a tacky shit-on-the-walls restaurant, if your ideal reader is an american who went to restaurants during the maximalist era of franchise design, they will conjure their nearest memory of one of those places. and for those readers who aren’t familiar with it, they’ll use other context clues to conjure that space. the point is, you don’t have to list every single stupid license plate nailed to the wall. you can leave it as one detail of one sentence and let your reader extrapolate from there.

if i say the dentist’s office looked like a gutted 90s taco bell, maybe no ideal audience would have ever seen a place like that, but a lot of people can mentally conjure a dentist’s office and a 90s taco bell and overlay them together to create a weird and fun image.

you can go even simpler than that: a bathroom the size of an airplane lavatory. a tiny studio apartment with a hotplate instead of a stove. a mansion with a winding stairwell. the point is that you want to define the size of the space and its general vibes.

in some ways detailed description can be overrated, because your reader conjures images even in absence of them on the page. and for those readers who can’t mentally conjure images, it doesn’t matter anyway; they take you at your word. the trick is to figure out what details are unexpected, relevant to understanding the story and its characters, and those are the things that you add in.

one other note: after working with hundreds of writers on drafting, for *most* of us it’s difficult to develop images and establish setting in a first draft. it’s nearly always something to be saved for a second or later draft. i think it’s because while we’re writing we tend to put character and action first.

nail the landing

there’s a joke i heard once from a writer i really admire: “you know it’s literary fiction if the story ends with a character looking at a body of water.”

and god it’s so painfully sad and true how easy it is to nail the landing of a given story by ending on a totally irrelevant piece of imagery. the final beat of a story followed by your character looking up at the sky and seeing a flock of birds in the shape of a V flying past. or maybe they’re sitting in their car and they count the rings of a nearby church bell. or maybe they watch an elderly couple walk down the sidewalk hand-in-hand. i don’t know!! when in doubt shove an observation, an image, whatever, something neutral at the end and it’ll sound profound. 

(this cheat is the only one that can really bite you in the ass because if the image is too irrelevant you risk tonal incongruity. for use only in the most desperate of times.)

sentence fragments

when writers ask me how to punch up their writing or start developing their own style, my go-to advice is to give up the idea of a complete sentence. fuck noun-verb-object. if you have a series of character actions, knock off the sentence subjects like in script action. if the clause at the end of your sentence is particularly meaningful, don’t separate it with a comma but a period and make it its own thing. if your character is going through something particularly stressful or heinous, that bitch is not thinking in complete thoughts so you don’t have to convey them that way. make punctuation bend to your will!!

rhetorical moves

this one opened a lot of doors for me stylistically. remember that famous writer who called me out on my lack of imagery? i always thought his prose was beautiful, that he’s one of the best living prose writers, etc. once i learned more about rhetoric though, i realized he just employed it a lot. 

usually when we talk about beautiful sentences it means a sentence that uses rhetorical devices. the greeks were like, you know what, when we give speeches there are certain ways to phrase things that make the audience go nuts. let’s identify what those things are and give them names so we can use them intentionally and convince people of our opinions.

i love shakespeare, i really do, but one of the big reasons he’s still a household name today and his plays are still performed is because every sentence of every goddamn play utilizes a rhetorical device. the audience is hard-wired to vibrate at the sound and cadence of his writing, like finding the spot on a dog that makes their foot thump. for five hundred years, william shakespeare has been scritching that spot for us.

i have no idea why, cognitively, rhetorical devices are so effective. i’m no rhetorician. all i know is that well-deployed anaphora makes a reader want to throw their panties on stage. my intro to rhetorical devices was the wonderful book the elements of eloquence by mark forsyth, a surprisingly fun read! hopefully that will open some doors for you the way it did for me. 

the downside to this is that once you know rhetorical devices, it’s like learning how the sausage is made. on one hand, as a writer, you’ll have a lot stronger grasp of style, but as a reader good prose loses some of its magic.  

pacing it out

many writers, myself included, rely on the tried and true “he bit the inside of his cheek” or other some such random action to help pace out dialogue. one time my thesis advisor sat me down and said “you’ve got to take all of those out.”

“all of them?” i said.

“all of them,” she said.

i thought, but that will weaken the text! it didn’t. once i cut what i came to call cheek-biter sentences i never went back. and now when i edit for other people i’m like, look i know where you’re coming from but just cut all these out and see how the scene stands. if it doesn’t feel right you can put some back in. a lot of times when you’re drafting you put those in the way some people say “um.” they’re just sentences you jot while you’re thinking of what the other character says, so from a writing perspective it seems like you’re pacing, but readers don’t read it that way. they just want to get to the next line of dialogue.

but sometimes you really do need to pace out a scene and i think there are other ways to do that that don’t rely on banal physical movements, such as:

interiority: a sentence or paragraph of relevant cognition, bonus points if you weave in background context. good interiority defines the voice of your writing.

observations: i know i just said description is overrated but idk sometimes you just need a character to note the back and forth clacking of one of those desk ball toy things.

character texture: maybe your character notes something about the person they’re talking to. a wilted pocket square. a mole that looks like it needs looked at by a dermatologist. a scar on their forehead. some detail that deepens or complicates our understanding of a character.

narratorial consciousness and access

this one is less a cheat and more a problematic opinion i have that doesn’t win me any popularity in writing circles.

i believe that if you’re writing in first person or close third or any narration which is dedicated to the mind of one character, you are only ever obligated to convey the experience of that character’s consciousness. and nothing else.

by that i mean, if your point of view character is unobservant? then they’re not going to even notice the flight attendant is missing one of their canine teeth. if your pov character is focused and obsessive, they’re going to think lavish, detailed paragraphs about that which they’re obsessed with and have no acknowledgement of the rest of the world. if your pov character has no understanding of time, does your story even need to be linear?

defining the scope of a narrator’s cognition early on can give you parameters in which to work. even if you don’t consciously do this, you still do it. if you write in third person limited present tense without really thinking about it, that’s your scope. i’m just pointing out you can choose to do it differently. you get to define your narrator. 

whenever we talk about narration we also talk about information access and the order of information being revealed/conveyed. writing must always be in order; even if you’re writing multiple concurring things, it still has to be rendered on the page in order one after the next, because the human mind can’t read two sentences over top of one another. 

if we’re restricted to the mind of a character, that means we’re also restricted by their knowledge and experiences, and this can be used to your benefit. i don’t want to take too much space for this but i do talk more about the relationship between narration and reality here.

in short, you the writer get to choose 

what the reader knows,

in what order they know it, and

its relationship to the presumed real events of the story, which develops the (un)reliability of your narrator

okay going to cut this off now before i go on more rants about narrative scope. i hope you found this helpful and go on to put some of these nasty lifehacks in your own writing!!

[starlight-bread-blog]

Ember Island Players and Zutara

Two approaches to analyzing literature are Doylist and Watsonian: Warsonian is about analyzing from an in-universe perspective, Doylist is about analyzing out-of-universe perspective.

For example: Why did the Gaang arrive at the swamp?

Watsonian: Because a hurricane made them crash.

Doylist: Because the writers wanted to explore the world & characters, foreshadow Toph, introduce plant benders, etc.

This analysis will be from a Doylist perspective. Meaning, I don't intend to prove Katara secretly canonically loved Zuko. She is a fictional character, she'll love whoever the writers want her to love. And the writers said she loved 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀. What I do intend to do is to show how the writing alluded to Zuko standing in 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀's way to being with Katara.

With that out of the way, let's dive right in!

At the beginning of the episode, when they sit down to watch the play, Zuko and 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 share this exchange:

If you didn't catch that, look at Katara:

This is a classic romance trope, typically used for female characters, to signify romantic feelings/a crush. But what is it doing here, when Zuko sits next to Katara instead of 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀? What is this interaction doing here in the first place?

When an episode aims to explore an aspact of the characters, it will remind the audience of it in the beginning. In The Waterbending Scroll, Katara steals a waterbending scroll and gets insecure about her waterbending. The episode opens with the Katara teaching 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 waterbending and getting insecure. In this instance, they want you to keep in mind the dynamic where... Zuko is in the way of 𝖪𝖺𝗍𝖺𝖺𝗇𝗀? (That's without mentioning what Katara's doing with her hair). That is strange.

Moving on to the play – See the joke about Katara's characterization in the play:

The point of Ember Island Players is while the play is heavily distorted, it is somewhat based on reality. It's funny and even gets under the character's skin sometimes because it shows them a parody of themselves. (Further evidence).

When we get to the the scene between Zuko and Katara in the Crystal Catacombs, for some reason, it's portrayed as some romantic moment.

Acknowledging a fan pairing in canon from is always out of the blue/baity from the get-go. I cannot recall a time when another show that did this. Here however, it's under the premise of somewhat founded parody. Which begs the question:

(Side note: There's been debate over Katara and Zuko moving away from each other. It's common for eventual romantic leads to deny attraction. It could be contextualized that way later and audiences aren't trained to rule out the pairing. The meaning is dereminted by the outcome).

Despite that, Katara and Zuko aren't in love. Everyone knows this, right?

𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 is jealous. Jealous to the point where he gets up and leaves the theater. The thing that kicks off the conflict of 𝖪𝖺𝗍𝖺𝖺𝗇𝗀 is... Zutara?

Speaking of the conflict, I won't dwell on it too much, but the events were the following: 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 adressed the kiss they shared in the invasion, a kiss that went unaddressed for 5 episodes. Katara is unable to commit to an answer. Her lines, isolated:

"𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀, I don't know" // "This isn't the right time" // "Right now, I'm just a little confused".

Until he kisses her once again.

And realistically, she doesn't take it well. Many girls use this language to reject gently. This is purposely written to suggest that they might not end up together. All of which is kicked off because of Zutara. Remember the beginning: Zuko is in the way of 𝖪𝖺𝗍𝖺𝖺𝗇𝗀.

When 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 is back in the theater, he's concerned about his future with Katara. It is showcased with this shot:

𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 isn't angry at Zutara here, so why is Zuko in the shot? A director storyboarded this, it was planned. They could have easily leave him out of it and it would convey the message better. Leaving him here implies that he is somehow related to the conflict, That Aang is worried about them, while both of those things aren't true.

𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 not being able to sit next to Katara isn't ship baiting. 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 getting angry at actress!Katara not returning his feelings isn't ship baiting. Katara herself being unable to immediately return his feelings isn't ship baiting. What is ship baiting is how all of this is caused by Zuko to a degree.

Zuko stealing 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀's seat and Katara giving him a side glance is ship baiting. Zutara being canonically addressed in a play that's vaguely founded is ship baiting. The former causing 𝖠𝖺𝗇𝗀 feeling jealous, leaving, and starting the conflict over it is ship baiting. Zutara is imbedded in the foundations of the episode. Ember Island Players plays out as if there is something between Zuko and Katara, when there isn't. That's ship baiting.

[witchywithwhiskey]

a gift for the bar owner

pairings: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader, soft!dark bar owner!curtis everett x female reader

summary: for curtis's birthday, ari gives you to him for the night.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, drunk sex, intoxication, rough sex, oral object insertion (f receiving), masturbation (m), cumshot, exhibitionism, sadism/masochism, painplay, rough body play, biting, free use, heavy objectification, heavy degradation, humiliation kink, salirophilia (kink for ruining someone's appearance/dirtying them up), somnophilia, cock warming, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink (only with ari), pet names (bambi, baby, kiddo), possessive behavior, aftercare, a couple mean hot men—let me know if i missed anything!!!

word count: 7.9k

a/n: ok so i have no excuse for this except i saw a gif of a girl getting wine poured over her face/chest and i wondered who of my characters would do that. and apparently the answer is dive bar owner curtis. so here we are. also please note that this little fic takes place after the chapter of trucker king where curtis and lloyd will be properly introduced so no, you're not supposed to know what exactly reader's tattoo is and yes, i will be revealing that in due time.

trucker king masterlist ● trucker au masterlist

Since Curtis Everett was one of Ari Levinson’s oldest friends—and one of the few people he trusted—your trucker decided that the perfect gift to give his friend for his birthday was you. A whole night where you were nothing more than Curtis’s free use fuck toy. 

The only condition was that Curtis had to follow the same rules Ari had set the last time he’d let his friend use you—no kissing, no permanent marks, and no coming inside you. Curtis had quickly agreed, and the plans were set.

Ari hadn’t asked you whether you wanted to be gifted to Curtis for his birthday, but you still thought it was a great idea. 

After all, Curtis worked so hard running Everett’s Roadhouse, the dive bar just off the highway that was frequented by Ari and plenty of other truckers, and he deserved a night of having his own personal fuck toy to use however he wanted. It was his birthday, and he didn’t have a girl of his own, so you didn’t mind stepping in for the night.

In fact, after the evening you’d spent with Curtis and Ari’s other oldest friend, Lloyd Hansen—when your trucker had given them permission to use you however they wanted in exchange for some favors—you were excited to be Curtis’s birthday gift. You’d liked the big, grumbling bar owner, and you wanted to make his birthday special. 

As part of his gift, Ari had let Curtis pick out what you’d wear. So you strolled into Everett’s Roadhouse on the night of Curtis’s birthday wearing the sweetest little sundress you owned—and nothing else besides the shoes on your feet. 

The dress was a bright white cotton with little flowers dotted all over it, and short enough to swirl around your upper thighs. The sweet little garment was at odds with your surroundings in the dive bar, which were grimy and dirty, lit by dim lightbulbs and flickering neon beer signs. It made you stand out immediately.

As soon as you entered the bar, every man in the establishment turned to look at you, their gazes ranging from drunken interest to greedy hunger. Even with Ari at your side, his posessive hand on your lower back, they couldn’t seem to drag their covetous eyes away from you, like you were an oasis in the desert.  

It took you a moment to understand the attention, but when you did, a delicious tremor of excitement raced down your spine—you were the only woman in the whole building. The bar was closed for Curtis’s private party, and the only people in attendance were his friends, who were all rough-looking men that you presumed were mostly truckers or old friends like Ari. 

You wondered, not for the first time since Ari had told you his plans for his friend’s birthday, what exactly Curtis would do with you. You knew Ari’s rules would save you from anything too unpleasant, but there was so much they didn’t cover. The possibilities of how Curtis might use you made your pussy tingle with anticipation.

Ari’s hand was firm on your lower back as he guided you further into the bar, your wedge sandals sticking slightly to the filthy wooden floors of the roadhouse. The gazes of all the men you walked past slid over your bare skin like oil, the sensation settling heavily between your thighs, where a sensual warmth bloomed. 

That warmth only grew the closer you got to Curtis, who stood half a head taller than any man in the bar. The imposing bear of a man was leaning against the bartop, talking with someone about something, his broad shoulders and thick biceps stretching the limits of his black t-shirt. Curtis’s blue eyes were bright in the dingy lights of the bar, contrasting against his pale skin, dark beard and shorn hair. 

When you finally arrived at the circle of men gathered around Curtis, Ari gave you a shove through the crowd and you stumbled toward the bar owner. It was only when Curtis fumbled to catch you in his arms—the stench of beer thick on his breath—that you realized he was already so drunk, he could barely stand, and that was why he’d been leaning against the bar. 

“Hey there, bambi,” he slurred, his arms loosely circling your waist. His hands slid down to grope your ass, but Curtis must’ve forgotten he was still holding a beer, because you felt it tip. A second later, cold liquid spilled over the plush curves of your ass.

Instinctively, you squealed his name, “Curtis!” The cold beer was running down the valley between your cheeks, making you squirm in his arms. You tried to get away from the spilling liquid, but you ended up pressing closer to Curtis’s massive, burly chest, practically climbing the tall man with your fingers fisting in his t-shirt and your body plastering to his.

Thankfully, Curtis didn’t mind in the least. He managed to right his beer and chuckled, looking down at you fondly, his mouth curled in a devastating smirk even as his eyes were hazy with drink. The alcohol seemed to have softened Curtis’s rough edges, and he appeared almost warm—nothing like the grumbling man you’d met previously.

“Damn, bambi, ya just got here,” he said, loud enough for the men closest to him to hear. “And yer already trying to jump on my dick like some kind of slut, huh?” He chuckled darkly and his friends joined in, making heat creep up your neck and fill your cheeks. 

But you didn’t deny it.

Instead, you recovered yourself quickly, forgetting the beer still plastering your dress to your ass and pressed closer to Curtis. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your tits against his broad chest, you enjoyed the way his eyes dipped lazily down to your low-cut neckline. 

“I’m yours for the night, big man,” you purred, your body warming and responding to being pressed so tight against Curtis’s muscled chest. It wasn’t difficult to let a seductive smile curl your lips. “You can do anything you want with me.” 

A grin spread slowly across Curtis’s face, the expression lecherous on his handsome features as he leered down at you. 

Before he responded, though, his gaze shifted over your shoulder, and he gave a quick nod. You knew without looking the gesture was meant for Ari—an acknowledgement that Curtis remembered your trucker’s rules and understood he couldn’t do anything. But close enough. 

Curtis’s free hand groped your ass hard as he turned to the crowd, taking a swig of his beer before calling out to his friends.

“Didja hear that fellas?” he crowed, his excited energy riling up the throng of men, all of whom seemed to be as drunk or drunker than Curtis. “Ari’s little cock slut said I get to do anything I want with her tonight!” 

A cheer rose up from the crowd, men all around you raising their glasses in the air while they yelled so loud it felt like a physical cloud of excitement. The energy was infectious, an eager grin curving your lips as you looked around at all the truckers and degenerates who were celebrating your objectification as a free use fuck toy.

Out of curiosity, you turned to look for Ari among them. You found your trucker standing still and quiet, watching you, a glass of amber liquid in one hand. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and he wore a devious little smirk on his face that had your body warming with arousal. Even though he wasn’t joining in on the deafening cheer, you knew he was just as excited by the prospect of seeing you used by Curtis as everyone else.

Before Ari could direct you to look back at Curtis, the big man you were plastered against got your attention with his next words, shouted to the crowd.

Curtis had waited until the cheering died down a little to ask, “So what should I do with her first?”  

Obscene suggestions were hurled at you and Curtis, men’s voices blending into a cacophony of depravity. The things the crowd wanted Curtis to do to you ranged so wildly from nearly tame to absolutely vile that it made your head spin. Ari’s rules would prevent the worst of the suggestions, but not everything that Curtis’s friends were calling out, and you wondered with a twisted shiver of excitement what your trucker’s friend would pick to do to you.

“POUR YOUR BEER ON HER!”

Curtis’s whole body turned to the voice that had called out that last suggestion, dragging you along with him since your arms were still looped around his neck, his hand still holding your ass. Curtis pointed at his friend with his beer, some of it sloshing onto the floor with the fervor of the gesture.

“Now that’s an idea,” he shouted to the man in the crowd you couldn’t see. Curtis tipped his beer in his friend’s direction then took a swig. He looked down at where you were still pressed against his chest, your body hanging from where your arms were holding onto him. “Get on your knees, bambi.” His voice was rolling thunder, so deep and dark, it sent tiny, pleasurable zaps of lightning through your nervous system. 

The speed with which you detached yourself from Curtis and dropped to your knees had the men all around you whistling in appreciation. You heard more than a few of them mutter things like, “What a good, well-trained slut,” and “Gotta get me a girl like that.”

You preened and beamed with pride at the praise, finding Ari in the crowd again and hoping your behavior reflected well on him. He’d been the one to train you to follow orders so well, after all.

Your trucker gave you a small nod of recognition that made happiness burst in your chest, and you turned back to Curtis with a happy bounce of your hips. You couldn’t help but notice the low groans that came as a result of the little movement and you smiled wider.

The wooden floor was sticky beneath your bare knees, but you paid it no mind. You suspected—and you’d turn out to be right—that you’d be dirtier and filthier than even the floor of Everett’s Roadhouse before the night was through. The excitement you felt made you bounce again, making your sweet little sundress flutter around your thighs.

Curtis’s eyes watched the hem of your dress hungrily, seemingly distracted by the movement until he shook himself and remembered what he was doing. Raising his beer, Curtis let the crowd cheer for a moment while you waited with anticipation. From your spot on the floor, Curtis looked even bigger and more intimidating, which made something low in your belly quiver with excitement, heat gathering between your thighs as your thoughts skated away.

A growled question from your trucker’s friend brought you back to the moment.

“Ya ready, bambi?” 

Your hands were laying lightly on your thighs, your knees spread on the floor. You were more than ready, and at Curtis’s question, you tossed your head back and pushed your tits out, giving him a challenging smirk as you purred, “Gimme what ya got, big man.”

A half feral grin spread across Curtis’s face, and then he was tipping his bottle toward you, cold beer splashing over your face mere seconds after you shut your eyes. The pungent liquid rolled down your cheeks and slid down your neck, soaking the front of your white dress. 

You could feel the fabric clinging to your skin, the white cotton no doubt becoming see-through as it was soaked in beer. Your nipples puckered and hardened against the flimsy material, putting on a show for Curtis and the crowd of men around you.

The bar owner emptied the bottle over your face and the front of your body, the beer getting in your mouth and nose, rivulets streaming down over your tits and between your spread thighs. It dripped to the floor beneath you, creating a small puddle on the sticky wooden boards. 

All around you, men cheered loudly and lewdly, urging Curtis to degrade you as the filthy slut you were. You grinned at the attention, loving every second of it and knowing that the men were only allowed to witness what Curtis was doing because Ari allowed it. Because Ari had given you to his friend for his birthday, and this was what Curtis had decided to do with you.

When the beer stopped flowing, you fluttered your eyes open, blinking the alcohol from your vision as you stared up into Curtis’s darkened blue eyes. You knew you must look a mess. You’d worn makeup that wouldn’t hold up to such an onslaught, and you had no doubt that your black mascara was streaming down your cheeks and adding to the wreckage of your face. But the way Curtis looked at you made you think he liked it—a lot.

“Edgar, gimme another beer!” Curtis called, keeping his gaze locked on you, his blue eyes dipping down to take in the sight of your beer-stained dress. 

The slip of fabric was sticking to your skin and it had become see-through where it had gotten wet. But it wasn’t drenched yet, and you could tell from the glint in Curtis’s eye that he wouldn’t stop until it bared you entirely. Excitement fizzed through you, and you bounced your hips while you waited impatiently for Curtis’s command to be met.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the bartenders open a new bottle of beer and pass it into Curtis’s big, waiting hand. Neither you nor the bar owner took your eyes off each other, and it made the moment all the more intense. For all that you had an audience to your degradation, in that moment, you were there for Curtis, and only Curtis. You were his, if only temporarily, and he seemed to relish that knowledge just as much as you did.

“Ya thirsty, bambi?” he asked, some of the drunken slurring leeching out of his tone as he grinned lecherously down at you. His gaze broke away from you and he looked around at the men gathered close but not touching you, his eyes sparkling with depravity when he met yours again. “Ya want some more?’

Your heart was racing with excitement, the awareness of having so many men watching you thrumming deliciously beneath your skin; you couldn’t help the way your hips bounced with eagerness as you nodded quickly. “Yes, please,” you said sweetly, biting your lip to stop from grinning too wide up at your trucker’s friend.

Curtis’s eyes darkened with sinful intent and you felt yourself growing wet. But the dampness between your thighs had nothing to do with the beer Curtis had poured on you, and everything to do with the fact that you were so turned on by the way he was treating you. And all the while, you could feel your trucker’s eyes on you, a reminder that you were Ari’s and he’d given you to Curtis as a gift. 

“Stick your tongue out,” Curtis rumbled, a thread of steel in his voice that made you shiver. In that moment, he reminded you of the grumbling man you’d met when Ari first introduced you to his friends, and you realized you’d missed that side of him. “Show all my friends what a good little slut you are.”

If you could’ve followed the order and smiled at the same time, you would’ve. Instead, you had to settle for submitting to Curtis’s command, sticking your tongue out as far as possible and tipping your head back, letting him see down your throat.

It was an invitation for him to give you more, to give you all he had, and the entire bar knew it. The men surrounding you roared their approval while Curtis offered you a pleased little smirk. It was the nicest he’d ever looked and it nearly made you smile, but you held your position.

“That’s it, open wide, slut,” Curtis encouraged in a low, roughened voice, depraved delight sparking in his blue gaze as he degraded you on the floor of his bar.

The look in his eye and the tenor of his tone made you quiver. Your pussy throbbed more insistently with need the longer you stayed on your knees and submitted to the degradation the bar owner offered. But you channeled that desire into opening your mouth wider, sticking your tongue out a little bit further, catching the approving smirk that flickered at the corners of Curtis’s mouth.

The bar owner nodded at you, took a sip of his new beer, and then, with no other preamble, he tipped the brown bottle over your face, showering you in the bitter liquid. 

With your lips open and tongue out, plenty of the beer splashed into your mouth and you swallowed it down as best you could. Despite your best efforts, you choked and gagged a little, tears slipping from your eyes to join the rest of the mess on your face as you endured Curtis’s treatment.

The men in the crowd jeered as you struggled beneath the degrading pour of Curtis’s beer, but he shifted his hand, the cold liquid moving to pour down the front of your body. The stream seemed endless and you could feel the beer soaking into your dress until the entire front of the garment was drenched.

By the time the bottle was empty, you felt half drowned, gulping down air as the beer you’d swallowed sloshed around in your belly. Your head was a little dizzy, and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the lack of air, but you swayed a little on your knees, glancing down to find that the entire front of your dress was see-through, your tits and puckered nipples on full display for everyone to see.

At the sight of yourself, your pussy throbbed, your inner walls clenching pathetically around nothing as desire blazed through your body. When you looked up at Curtis, you were certain he could see your arousal in every line of your expression, and he smirked, the expression sharp on his handsome face.

“Y’know, bambi, your dress is a little dirty,” Curtis rumbled, as if he hadn’t been the one to sully it in the first place. But you didn’t care about that, you only cared about the anticipation building in your body. You knew Curtis was leading somewhere and you couldn’t wait for him to get there. “I can’t let you walk around my bar like that, dripping beer everywhere.” 

It escaped no one that Curtis’s dive bar was plenty dirty already and a few drops of beer wouldn’t make it much worse, but a cheer rose from the crowd as they caught on to the fact that Curtis was planning something. You bounced slightly on your knees, pouting up at the bar owner and trying to look abashed, biting your lip against a grin. 

“What’re you gonna do about it, big man?” you asked sweetly. 

Curtis gave you a half-feral grin, the expression more snarl than anything else, and it was your only warning. 

Faster than you would’ve thought possible for the big, drunk man, Curtis stooped down and slipped his hands into the neck of your dress, his rough fingers grazing your soft flesh. You let out a quiet little moan that you were certain only Curtis could hear, making him pause for a brief second, his eyes fluttering closed. But then his hands were moving again, yanking on your dress.

In a split second, Curtis ripped your dress right down the center. You gasped loudly as your tits were bared to the crowd of men in the bar, the sound loud in the moment of stunned silence. Your breasts bounced free of their confines, your nipples hardening and revealing to the whole room how much you were enjoying Curtis’s rough treatment.

The cheer that broke out at your nakedness was so loud, it made your ears ring. It also drowned out the sound of rending fabric as Curtis tore the shredded garment from your body, flinging it into the crowd. His eyes were heavy as they trailed down your body, your skin prickling everywhere he looked—your nipples tightening into desperate peaks and your pussy weeping from where it was nestled between your parted thighs.

Curtis’s eyes flared at the sight of the tattoo just above your slit, a reminder of who you belonged to. But you hoped it also reminded Curtis of the first night you’d met him—the night Ari had given you to both Curtis and Lloyd to use how they wanted. Your pussy dripped at the memory, and it seemed Curtis was just as affected, the big man pausing for a moment before he shook himself. 

“That’s better,” Curtis muttered, his gaze lingering on your weeping pussy like he wanted to bury his bearded face against your soft cunt. Instead, he dragged his eyes back up your body, the blue of his irises darkened to the color of the midnight sky as he murmured for your ears only, “Look so fucking pretty, bambi.”

You smiled and ducked your head at the compliment, which meant more to you than the obscene catcalls and lewd cries from the crowd around you. It was a reminder of the friendship that you and Curtis shared. You may have met because he was one of your trucker’s oldest friends, but you hoped Curtis knew you thought of him as your friend too.

“Thank you,” you whispered, looking up at the bar owner from under your lashes. “Are you enjoying your birthday?”

Something resembling a grin curved the edges of Curtis’s mouth, the expression nearly hidden in his beard. His eyes slid away and looked up, and you knew without having to check that he was looking at Ari again. Before you could discern what the glance meant, though, Curtis was chucking you under the chin and saying, “I am, thanks to you, bambi.” 

Your heart gave a happy little flutter, but before you could respond, Curtis was standing up and waving his arms to get the crowd to quiet down. “What d’ya think fellas, is Ari’s little cock slut dirty enough yet?” 

The beer that had already been poured on you was starting to dry into a sticky, tacky layer on your skin, but your pussy dripped at the thought of Curtis wanting to make you even filthier. And it seemed his friends liked the idea as well, because they cheered so loud, it felt like the floor was shaking beneath your knees. 

Edgar the bartender already had a beer open and waiting for Curtis when the big man turned to grab one. That time, the bar owner didn’t even need to command you to open your mouth and stick out your tongue—you did that all on your own. Curtis’s smirk was pleased and his blue eyes glimmered with fondness as he tipped the beer over your face, pouring the liquid down your throat and over your body to the cheers of all his friends.

For the better part of the next hour, Curtis took his time defiling you while you sat, naked and on your knees, in the center of his bar, enduring it willingly as the free use toy he’d been given for his birthday. A good amount of the alcohol that didn’t run down over your tits and splash over your pussy went down your throat, and it wasn’t long before your head began to swim. 

Still, your body felt heavy with desire, your nipples tight and desperate to be played with, your cunt pulsing and aching to be filled. It was only because Curtis seemed to be having so much fun, his friends urging him on to make you dirtier and filthier, that you didn’t break down and beg him to fuck you. 

But you couldn’t help the way your body was responding, your mouth falling slack at the teasing slide of liquid over your puckered nipples. If you arched your body just right, and spread your thighs wide enough, you could feel the trickle of beer over you clit, and it made a low moan slip from your mouth as your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

Curtis’s dark chuckle from above was your only warning. At that moment, he shoved the neck of his beer bottle into your mouth, pushing your lips wide and making you gag as your eyes flew open in surprise. 

“That needy little mouth is begging to be fucked, bambi,” the bar owner growled, quickly unzipping his fly and wedging the bottom of the beer between the zipper’s teeth so he could hold your head in both hands and fuck you with the glass bottle. “Take it, cock slut, fucking take it,” he grunted obscenely. 

All you could do was choke and struggle, the remainder of the beer sloshing down your throat and joining the rest in your belly. Your fingers fisted in the denim jeans encasing Curtis’s thick thighs, but you didn’t push him away. It felt good to finally have one of your holes used, even if you were being fucked by Curtis’s beer bottle instead of his cock like you’d wanted. 

Your jaw hurt by the time he pulled away, your lips swollen from being wrapped around the wide glass. Your body swayed unsteadily on your knees, arousal dripping down between your thighs and joining the mess of beer on the floor. The cheers of the crowd had faded into a constant rumble, and you smile dazedly when they urged Curtis on. 

Suddenly, a big bear paw of a hand was wrapping around your upper arm and you were being hauled to your feet. Blood rushed to your legs, your head swimming and lolling to the side as you tried to find your footing. But standing seemed impossible—and unimportant as arousal burned through you, making you whimper and whine desperately. You hoped someone would fuck you soon.

Curtis chuckled at your pathetic noises, the husky sound sending shivers down your spine as his lips grazed your ear. “You’re not too drunk to fuck, are ya, bambi?” he asked in a low, growly voice as he pressed his hips against you, his hard bulge digging into your belly. 

When you’d first walked into Everett’s Roadhouse that night and saw the state of the bar owner, you’d thought there was no way he’d be able to fuck you with how drunk he was. But the hour spent pouring so many bottles of beer over your body instead of drinking them had sobered Curtis up enough to get hard. He was stiff and twitching and pressing into you through his jeans and you wanted him to bury his cock in you.

Your dazed smile widened into a giddy grin and you tipped your head back, blinking your eyes a few times to get your vision to focus enough to see Curtis’s face. “It’s your birfday, big man,” you said, your voice more slurring than sultry, a hiccup interrupting you and making you pause. “I’m use to yours.” Your expression scrunched into a confused pout, knowing your words weren’t right, and tried again. “I’m yours to fuck.”

Curtis was laughing as he hauled you over to one of the pool tables off to the side of the bar, and tossed you down on the green felt. You lay limply on your back, staring up at your trucker’s tall friend while he glared at the guys who’d been playing a game on the table. Their grumbling quickly cut off and Curtis returned his attention to you. 

The crowd shifted to gather around the pool table while Curtis pulled out his cock, which was just as massive as the rest of him. The thick length lay against your mound, the girth covering much of the tattoo there, the tip nearly reaching your belly button. Your inner walls clenched in anticipation of taking Curtis inside you—you couldn’t wait.

“Gimme, gimme,” you mumbled, spreading your thighs wide and pushing your pussy up against the stiff, velvet-wrapped steel of Curtis’s cock. It twitched against your mound, precum dripping onto your belly and joining the mess on your skin. 

Curtis chuckled at your antics, rumbling, “Alright, bambi.” The bar owner grabbed your thighs, pushing you wide as he pulled his hips back, lining up the tip of his big cock with your entrance. Without any warning or preparation, Curtis barreled into your cunt, burying his big cock to the hilt with one thrust. 

Instantly, stinging pain and scorching pleasure cut white-hot through the core of you, overwhelming your mind and leaving your body to react however it wanted. Your head was thrown back, and your lips parted to let out a piercing scream that shattered through the noise of the dive bar.

“Fuck yeah, bambi, scream for me,” Curtis groaned, his big hands kneading your thighs, fingers digging into your plush softness hard enough to hurt. He pulled your body into his, managing to grind his cock even deeper into your pussy, wrenching another, surprised shriek from your lips.

You felt like you were being split in half, pain and pleasure ricocheting through your body fast enough to make you dizzy, your drunken mind unable to tell the difference between the two. All you knew was that it was so much, so overwhelming, and your hands reached out above your head, searching for something to cling to as your mind splintered and your body trembled from the sensation of being split open on Curtis’s cock.

Two warm hands wrapped firmly around your wrists, pinning them to the rough felt of the pool table, leaving you powerless to Curtis’s massive cock. He was rocking his hips in tiny little thrusts, the tip of his length battering against your cervix and wringing helpless little whimpers from your lips as your hazy eyes searched above you for the man pinning you down—somehow knowing before your gaze collided with the familiar blue of your trucker’s eyes that it was Ari.

His face was hovering above you, upside down as he leaned over the table to catch your gaze. The edges of Ari’s features were blurred, but you would’ve recognized your trucker even if you were blackout drunk—even if you were so intoxicated you were more unconscious than not. 

Ari’s face was like a star, familiar and steady, and you smiled happily up at him, your heart warming when you noticed the pride in his gaze. 

“You’re doing well, baby,” Ari rumbled, his features sharp and his expression hard. But deep in the blue depths of his eyes, you could see the affection you knew he felt for you. “You’re being such a good fuck toy for daddy’s friend on his birthday.”

You giggled, squirming happily on the pool table, your face upturned to your trucker, your attention completely diverted from Curtis and his cock, even as he still fucked you. You were having fun with the bar owner, but nothing and no one would ever be able to come between you and Ari. You were his, always, and he knew it.

Ari leaned down, and you thought for a moment he was going to kiss you, but you should’ve known better. Ari’s teeth nipped the soft lobe of your ear, making you moan, before he spoke words meant only for you.

“When Curtis is done, I’m gonna fuck your filthy little cunt, kiddo, so don’t pass out,” he rumbled, the twisted promise making your cunt clench around his friend’s cock. “Or do, it doesn’t matter to me.” Ari sank his teeth into the bone at the corner of your jaw, biting you hard enough to make you cry out. “I’m gonna use your holes whether you’re awake or not.”

A helpless moan slipped from your lips, your legs spreading wider instinctively at the thought of your trucker using your cunt to get off while you lay unconscious in his bed. You smiled adoringly up at Ari, blinking your eyes slowly. It took you a moment before your swimming vision could focus on Ari’s face, and when he saw he had your attention, he jerked his chin sharply at his friend, commanding you wordlessly to look back at Curtis.

You did, following your trucker’s order immediately, finding the massive bar owner watching you and Ari with a look on his face you couldn’t quite identify. The only way you could describe it was…openly gluttonous. Curtis looked like he wasn’t merely jealous of what you and Ari had, he looked like he would’ve stolen you away from his friend if there was any chance in the universe you’d look at him the same way.

But there wasn’t, and Curtis’s expression shifted as he resigned himself for having the piece of you that Ari had given him for his birthday. It would have to be enough, because even though his cock was inside you, you were still Ari’s and Ari’s alone. 

Curtis grabbed a beer off the edge of the pool table and chugged half of it. As he set it back down, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and leaned over you, his big hands grabbing your thighs again, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. 

The pain only made your arousal flare hotter and you smiled up at your trucker’s friend, murmuring, “Happy birthday, big man.”

“Thank you, bambi,” he muttered, low enough that you knew it was just for you. Then a smirk spread across Curtis’s face, his eyes lighting with filthy desire. “Now, scream if my dick’s too big for your tight little cunt, ya filthy slut.”

With that, Curtis pulled out until only the tip of his cock remained in your grasping channel, then he slammed inside you. Even with your body having adjusted to the sheer size of him, his hard, brutal thrust pulled a scream from your throat, your back arching up off the table and your wrists pulling against Ari’s hold. 

Curtis laughed loudly as the crowd cheered, the big bar owner setting a ferocious pace as he fucked you hard enough that you knew you were going to be sore for days. But you loved it. You loved the pain and the pleasure and the roaring of the crowd as Curtis fucked you in front of all his friends. 

You loved the way Ari’s hands held your arms pinned above your head, how it bared your tits to Curtis, who bent over your body to finally suck on your aching nipples. You loved the way Curtis’s beard rasped against your skin, making you shiver as your pussy clenched hard around his thick cock.

Your mind floated deliriously through the waves of pleasure and pain crashing over your body. You felt drunk on cock and alcohol, not knowing how much time passed as Curtis fucked you, but it seemed to go on forever. Your body was wound so tight for so long, you reached a point where you didn’t know if you were even going to come, or if you were simply going to hover on the edge for the rest of eternity.

“Look at me, bambi,” Curtis growled, dragging your attention back to his handsome face. 

It was only then that you realized you’d been staring up unseeingly at the ceiling of the bar, the golden and neon lights swimming through your vision as you lay limply beneath your trucker’s friend. 

Curtis’s blue eyes were dark and his mouth was twisted into a desirous snarl, his beard making him look like a feral beast as he pounded into you. 

“You’re gonna come on my cock, d’you hear me?” 

Words escaped you, your tongue simply lolling out over your bottom lip when you opened your mouth to respond. All you could manage was a frantic whine as you bobbed your head in a nod. 

“Good slut,” Curtis grunted, one of his hands falling to your lower belly, his thumb finding your clit between your slippery folds. “Come on my cock, bambi, c’mon, come on my big dick like a good little cock slut.” The rough pad of his thumb rubbed your slick, puffy clit unrelentingly, and suddenly, you were tipping over the edge.

Your mouth fell open wider and your spine arched up off the pool table as you screamed, your release crashing over you, wave after wave of pleasure hurtling you closer and closer to a darkness that wanted to claim you. But you clung to consciousness, your scream turning into a high, keening whine that could’ve been a sign of pain or pleasure. 

Your release seemed to spur on Curtis and he rutted into you, fucking your clenching pussy as he watched pleasure contort your face and body. Then, with a final grunt, Curtis pulled himself free from your body. He jerked his cock in a big fist until he spilled all over your belly, making sure none of his come fell anywhere near your pussy or the tattoo there.

Curtis’s chest heaved, his eyes distant and dazed with pleasure as he wrung every last drop of come from his cock, and you watched him with the satisfied smile of a job well done. 

When the last rope of his come had splattered, warm and sticky, against your belly, Curtis finally sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the beer handed to him from the crowd. He took a deep swig while he tucked his cock away with the other hand. 

“Thanks, Levinson,” Curtis rasped, tipping his bottle to your trucker, who just nodded. Ari’s hands were idly massaging your wrists and you melted onto the rough felt of the pool table, knowing your trucker would take care of you. Curtis turned his blue eyes on you, and he tipped his bottle to you as well. “Always a pleasure, bambi,” he said, a genuine look of appreciation on his face. 

You were about to respond, but then Curtis turned his beer over and he used the alcohol to wash his come from your skin. You squealed loudly when the cold liquid rushed over your heated skin, instinctively bringing up your legs to curl into yourself, making the crowd laugh and jeer. 

When the beer was empty and his spend was cleaned from your skin, Curtis stumbled away into the crowd, the big man being swallowed up by the well-wishers and revelers congratulating him on fucking you good. Since you knew Curtis was done with you, you looked up at Ari, twisting your hands to wrap your fingers around his arms.

“Can we go now, daddy?” you asked softly.

Ari nodded and gathered you up from the pool table, setting you down on the edge while he pulled off the flannel shirt he’d worn over a white t-shirt. He tugged it over your head and helped you get your trembling arms in the sleeves, then ducked down to brush a kiss to your lips. The events of the night were catching up to you, and you were drunk and exhausted, but you sighed into your trucker’s mouth.

“You did good tonight, baby,” Ari murmured against your lips, and your heart felt like it was suffused in the warmest sunlight. Ari’s praise made you feel lighter than air, even as he pulled away.

You smiled up at your trucker as he straightened, staring at Ari like he was your whole world, which he was. His eyes were the softest you’d ever seen them as he stared right back at you, the tiniest smile curling the corners of his mouth. 

Just then, Lloyd materialized out of the crowd and Ari finally looked away from you to exchange a loaded glance with his other oldest friend. Lloyd seemed to be much more sober than Curtis, and he helped your trucker lead you to the bathroom, where Ari cleaned you up a little and let you relieve yourself after all that you’d had to drink that night. 

Then, Lloyd cleared a path through the drunken crowd while you and Ari followed. Between the two men, no one dared to try to touch you, and you sank into Ari’s side, feeling safe with your trucker as you looped your arms loosely around his waist. He smelled familiar and wonderful and you didn’t even try to hold yourself back from burying your face in his chest even as you kept on walking.

Lloyd pushed open the door of Everett’s Roadhouse and you sighed happily when the cool night air brushed against your heated, still slightly sticky cheeks. Gravel crunched beneath the soles of your sandals, and you blinked your eyes in the darkness until they focused enough to see Ari’s big, black truck looming in packed parking lot surrounded by other long-haul rigs.

“Drysdale’s gonna have a lot of business tonight after that show your girl put on,” Lloyd commented, casting his gaze across the expanse between Everett’s Roadhouse and Diesel Dolls, the strip club on the other side of the parking lot. Lloyd snorted and adjusted the front of his pants, and it was only then that you noticed the sizable bulge there. “Including me,” he muttered.

Your hazy thoughts strayed to the strip club, and you couldn’t help but imagine Lloyd getting a lap dance from a beautiful stripper. The tattoo artist sitting back on a plush couch while a gorgeous woman gyrated on his lap, his fingers twitching to grab her and touch her and defile her the way you knew Lloyd liked.

You didn’t even think to picture yourself as the stripper. Instead, in this little fantasy, you were sitting on Ari’s lap, your trucker’s cock buried in your cunt. Maybe he’d even let you get your own lap dance from Lloyd’s stripper, your body pressed between Ari’s and the other woman…

Your body lurched forward and if it wasn’t for Ari’s firm grip on your waist, you would’ve gone sprawling across the parking lot. For the rest of the walk to Ari’s rig, you tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other and not let your mind wander so you wouldn’t end up feeling more sore than you already were. 

When the three of you came to a stop beside the driver’s side door of Ari’s truck, Lloyd let his eyes slide to you before moving quickly to your trucker. 

“I hope you had a similar gift in mind for my birthday, Levinson,” Lloyd said with his usual oily charm, his mouth curling into a smirk beneath his well-groomed mustache. 

“We’ll see,” Ari rumbled, but his tone was good-natured. You couldn’t help the way your body clenched at the salacious, and somewhat victorious smile Lloyd shot your way.

But the events of the night were weighing heavily on your shoulders, exhaustion creeping into your bones, and you didn’t have the brainpower to wonder what Lloyd might do with you if you were gifted to him on his birthday. Even if you knew you’d have just as much fun with Ari’s other friend as you’d had with Curtis.

“Daddy,” you whined softly, burying your face against Ari’s beefy chest. His hand squeezed your hip possessively and he said his goodbyes to Lloyd, then helped you into the truck, making sure he was the only one who could see the way your pussy flashed as you climbed into the cab.

Ari followed you up and locked the door behind him while you crawled into the cot in the back, laying down on top of his soft blankets despite the sticky residue still clinging to most of your body. Ari pulled off his t-shirt and kicked off his pants, then joined you in the narrow bed. 

Your body melted at the familiar comfort of his weight behind you, and you began to relax as sleep tugged at the edges of your awareness. But when Ari’s cock pressed hot and hard against your bare ass, you remembered his promise from inside the bar, how he said he was going to fuck you whether you were awake or not. You moaned softly while he bunched up the flannel shirt you still wore around your waist. 

Your face was already pressing into the soft pillow on Ari’s bed, your eyes closed, but you arched your back and pushed your ass against Ari’s hard length, inviting him to slide inside your slick cunt. You were sore from Curtis’s fucking, but wet again for your trucker. You were always wet for him, your body craving the feeling of his cock filling you up in the perfect way that only he could. 

“Ya gonna stay awake for me while I use your messy cunt, cock whore?” Ari rumbled into the back of your neck. The flat of his tongue swiped up the column of your throat, wringing a soft whine from you as he licked the beer from your skin. It felt so good, sending shivers down your spine and raising goosebumps all over your body. “Or did my friend wear you out?”

All you could manage was an unintelligible mumble, the sound muffled by the pillow crushed beneath your face, as sleep pushed more insistently into the border of your wakefulness. Ari’s deep chuckle rumbled against your spine, making you even wetter for your filthy, perfect trucker.

“Go to sleep, kiddo,” Ari murmured in your ear, his hand sliding over your hip to press against your lower belly, his fingertips grazing the tattoo that was branded into the skin of your mound, just above your pussy. His touch moved your body slightly, arching you enough for the head of his cock to find the slit of your cunt. “Let daddy use your tight little hole while you get some rest.” 

Ari slid inside your pussy slowly, pressing the air from your lungs as he took his time impaling you on his cock. Your aching inner walls clenched around him desperately, pain and pleasure flaring to life and zinging through your exhausted limbs. A rough, greedy grunt rumbled in Ari’s chest, the sound softening into a warm, satisfied groan once he was fully seated inside you.

It hurt a little to be stretched out around Ari’s cock so soon after taking Curtis’s pounding, but when your trucker wrapped his arms around you, holding you cocooned in the cage of his broad chest while he rocked his hips almost gently against your ass, you felt yourself melting into him. Ari’s lips and tongue worked against your neck, licking sticky beer from your skin, his beard deliciously familiar while he set an almost soothing pace as he fucked you.

Despite the soreness between your thighs, and the tiny zings of pleasure thrumming through your body from Ari’s cock rocking into you, your exhaustion was too great and it wasn’t long before you were slipping into the warm comfort of sleep. That night in Ari’s truck, you fell asleep with a blissed out, cock drunk smile on your face, happy as could be to be in your trucker’s arms.

You may have spent much of the night as a gift for the bar owner your trucker called a friend, and you were glad you could be part of making Curtis’s birthday special, but you would always belong to Ari. And you would always end your nights in his arms, because that was where you wanted to be and where you belonged—with your trucker, Ari Levinson.

trucker king masterlist ● trucker au masterlist

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Wearing pink [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x bimbo!reader

word count: 2.7k

request: Hear me out... Spencer introducing bimbo f!reader to the squad! 😭🩷

A/N: Honestly, I had never written anything like this and I hope it is the correct idea of a bimbo. I based her on some TV characters, so (if you're a fan of this type of reader) I hope you like it!

“Baby, you're so nervous,” Spencer giggled, listening to the click of your heels from one side of the apartment to the other to check that everything was in order.

“I'm not nervous, I just want everything to look nice” you complained. Your gaze went to your boyfriend, who was wearing an elegant suit that you had bought for him last month, and you noticed that his tie was a little crooked. You immediately went in front of him and your hands acted on their own to accommodate it, as they had done so many times.

It was the first time Spencer's unit mates would see you and you wanted to make the best impression of all. You kept asking if the dishes looked good, if your skirt was smooth, if your hair was combed, if your makeup looked good. And each time he just smiled and nodded, recording how precious you were.

Honestly, the fact that the team found out about your existence was mere coincidence, the result of an unfortunate event that ended up unmasking Spencer. He had spent the night with you, since the cases had kept him too busy the last few weeks, and when he left the room, he only gave you a kiss on the forehead so as not to disturb your sleep. Although he wasn't very hungry, his body was in desperate need of coffee, so he opened your cupboard for something to take back to the office. Everything in your kitchen, which you hardly ever used, was pink, lilac, or any pastel variation of a few others, so it was a relief for him to find a single black thermos. Without paying much attention, he took it, poured the hot liquid, and then walked out.

There was no case, yet, so he sat down at his desk after waving to Morgan and Emily. He felt his phone vibrate and he thought it was a message from JJ, but he found that it was you who was contacting him.

Hey, are you leaving without saying goodbye? 

He smiled inadvertently and apologized saying that you looked so pretty that he hadn't wanted to disturb your calm. I could almost imagine you blushing from your soft bed.

Okay then. Good luck today, handsome. 

Love u xx

"No way! Are you a plastic girl?" Garcia yelled, from his partner's side. Spencer jumped a little when he heard her and it seemed she had caught everyone's attention.

“A what?”

"Your cup" the woman stretched out her hand to pick up said object and showed it to the rest: it had a bright pink print, with some images of a blonde girl and various objects, including a text written with something like newspaper clippings. which enunciated Burn Book.

"Where did you get that, Reid?"

"Who is she?"

“It's Regina George, from the movie Mean Girls. You don’t know her?" Prentiss muttered and at first, he immediately denied it.

“On Wednesdays we wear pink,” Garcia quoted, hoping he would have a clue, and again he showed he didn't know what they were talking about. But after taking a closer look at it, he suddenly remembered that he had looked at a poster with her somewhere in your room and it all made sense.

“When I took it, it was black”

"It's probably one of those magical cups that reveal the image with heat"

“Thermochromism?”

"I guess that's the scientific term"

"So where did you get it from? Did it just show up at your house by chance?"

"No, it was at my girlfriend's house"

At that, Emily's eyes widened, Garcia gasped loudly, and Morgan, who inconveniently just took a gulp of his coffee, almost choked on the hot liquid.

Penelope almost took the doctor by the neck to ask him why he had omitted such important information and he only shrugged his shoulders and replied that he had never commented on it because they had never asked.

It didn't take long for Garcia to yell at the missing team members what they had just found out and pretty soon JJ and Rossi were also gathered around the man to find out what was going on. To everyone's dismay, Hotch interrupted almost immediately, and they didn't manage to ask Spencer any questions. And he said it would be better if they were that curious to ask her themselves.

“Reid, I swear you don't even introduce us to that girl I'll never talk to you again” Garcia had threatened him, clearly exaggerating just to convince him.

When Spencer saw you again, he filled you in on the whole situation and asked if you were okay with hosting a unit dinner, to which you happily agreed.

"Everything looks immaculate, you don't have to worry," he assured you, taking both of your hands and leaning in to kiss you.

"But what if they don't like me?"

"What reason would they have for that, huh?" he insisted, holding your face in his hands. He really liked your lip gloss, it always tasted delicious and made your lips look flawless. 

"Because they're like mega-cool detectives and I... well, I won't even know what to tell them."

"Let them ask the questions, I assure you they will be dying to know everything about you" he smiled at you, quite confident that the evening would go perfectly. It was the first time Spencer had introduced the team to a couple, so they would behave prudently. Or at least so he hoped.

The sound of the doorbell caught your attention and you practically jumped towards the door to open it for whoever was there, but not before asking your boyfriend for the thousandth time to make sure you looked good. When you opened it, you saw a blonde woman and a bald man who, from Spencer's stories, you assumed were Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan. They asked your name and you agreed, finishing verifying that it was the place with the presence of your friend behind you.

"Hello! We thought we had the wrong house” she sighed, completely nervous, and Morgan didn't even say hello because he had been stunned to see you.

You were very pretty, generally speaking, you were wearing a white skirt, a tight top, and a light baby pink sweater, plus huge heels that made you almost level with your boyfriend. You were like a model and it's not that he didn't trust his friend's flirting skills, but that you had simply exceeded his expectations of him.

You received them with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, while they secretly observed the place. Hotch, Rossi, Prentiss, and JJ soon arrived, in exactly that order, and when they were all assembled, they took seats at the table. Spencer helped you serve dinner, which you had ordered from your favorite restaurant, and pretty soon all of you were eating and drinking the wine that David Rossi had brought as a gift.

Although the conversation had been pleasant during the first few minutes, it was obvious that everyone wanted to ask you questions, quite surprised to see the type of girl you were and how they never imagined that their friend would fit in with someone like that.

"So since when are you guys dating?" Emily murmured, trying to be nice, but also dying of curiosity.

"What will they be now, love? About six months?” you said, reaching out to hold his hand on the table.

“Six months, fourteen days, and seventeen hours”

"He's the mathematician here, so you can listen to him" you joked and the others laughed. The courtship time somewhat dismayed the team, because, although they didn’t blame him, they wished they had known sooner.

"And how did you two meet?"

“Oh, for my dad. Spencer went to give a conference to his police officers in New York a while ago and he asked him for a private consultation on a case that had been giving everyone a headache. When he helped him figure it out, Dad was so grateful that he invited him to dinner so he could meet our family. My parents loved him so I thought of it as a sign and we kept in touch after that."

"Now I understand why he kept looking at his phone and smiling in his spare time," Morgan muttered to embarrass him, like an older brother would, and the team laughed at the memory.

"And who is your father?" Rossi asked. Reid had never mentioned what had happened, but still you seemed familiar to the man, as if he had seen you somewhere before.

“He worked for a few years as a police chief here in Virginia, but now last year he got promoted to the commissioner or something; his name is Joseph Sanders”

You probably had no idea how important that position was to police officers, but they all exchanged glances as if you had just told them that you were the daughter of the President of the United States himself. Rossi immediately snapped his fingers as he winced, telling you that of course he knew your father and that he had seen you when you were a girl of maybe ten years old. The others only weighed in on the fact that Reid was now the commissioner's son-in-law.

“Hey and, no offense, but how did you fall in love with our boy wonder? He's always been a bit shy”

Now it was your boyfriend who was worried that they might make him uncomfortable or point out the clear difference between the two of you, but your carefree giggles put him at ease every time.

"It is enough to see that face to do it, don't you think?" you responded affectionately and the girls smiled at your response.

"Actually, she called me to invite me to have coffee after dinner with her father and although at first I thought it was hopeless I realized that she liked spending time with me and that's why I kept asking her out”

“He was so sweet. Flowers, chocolates, dinners. The whole package"

“Yes, well, it's that I did a little research on the best courtship methods and found common factors like that in most of them. It was only necessary to combine it with the right environment and make some modifications to them so that they were pleasant in front of you. Did you know that in the 19th century it was well seen that men…?”

"Reid," Derek interrupted, as a signal for him to stop rambling, and his friends smiled at the doctor's soft apology.

“Half the time I don't understand what he's saying, but I love hearing him talk,” you said sincerely. He had never taken that as an offense, because, although many people didn't understand his talks about him either, at least you always paid attention to him "I honestly don't know how a person can have a brain of that size"

“In fact, brains don’t vary in size but rather in areas of development, so it is incorrect to say that one person has a bigger brain than another. In such a case, one person has a more developed brain than the other”

The group looked at him accusingly again and he was about to feel guilty, but your lips crashing a kiss on his cheek considerably improved his mood.

After many more questions, everyone was able to realize that you and Spencer couldn't be more than complete opposites. You loved everything that Reid didn't know and he knew a lot of things that didn't matter to you. There were no books in your house, if glossy magazines counted for anything, and Spencer didn't even have a modern cell phone. Your house vibrated with pink and expensive things, while he only cared that there would be a bed to sleep in when he got home. But even with everything you looked really in love and the team wondered how that was possible.

Although you tremendously admired the man's capabilities that wasn’t the most important thing to you, but his wonderful beauty of him. He was someone who drew attention with his eccentricity, that every time he walked into a room he left a mark and someone many women wished they had, which he didn't even notice. And by becoming your boyfriend, without any explicit sense of ownership or anything, he had become all yours.

You liked holding his hand in the streets, you liked that he came to work and the clients were surprised when he kissed you, that everyone said how lucky you were to have found a man like that. Besides, he had passed one of the most important tests: he had your parents' approval, which was usually not an easy thing to come by.

And right now, it seemed that you were winning the sympathy of your boyfriend's family too, because the fact of seeing him so happy by your side was reason enough for them to like you and, therefore, also approve of you.

When it was time to eat dessert, the girls invited you to go shopping with them one day and all the compliments from the men were related to your last name, even astonished that Spencer now belonged to the spheres of high police society. They told you many things about themselves and you, with some effort, tried to take it all in.

"It was a great pleasure meeting you, you can come back here any day you like," you said to say goodbye, once the night was already quite advanced and they decided that the best thing (for the comfort of both the hosts and the guests) would be to leave. 

“The pleasure was ours, Y/N”

Just like at the beginning, they kissed your cheek, and one by one they left, giving you kind words of thanks, until only you and Spencer were left.

"How was I?" you immediately asked your boyfriend, who was already looking at you out of the corner of his eye with a smile.

“Perfect”

"You think so?"

"I know it" he assured you, moving closer to you to hold you by the waist and causing your skirt to ride a little higher to the height of your butt "They loved you"

“But can you believe your friend Emily was wearing flats with that dress? It's not right and I didn't mean to be rude by mentioning it, but I died when I saw it” you started to babble, still under Spencer's grasp “And your friend Penelope has such a…quirky style. She wears colors that shouldn't mix, but somehow it looks good on her. And your boss, Aaron, shouldn't wear a suit jacket with a casual shirt. The others were relatively good, but the next time I see Jennifer I'll be sure to treat her to a moisturizer for her skin”

"And leaving that aside, did they at least make a good impression on you?" he laughed. He wasn't upset with you, it was inevitable that you would notice that kind of 'signs of bad taste' as you called them.

“Oh, they are adorable. You can tell that they love you very much, everyone speaks with admiration of you. Even your friend Derek, even though he tried to annoy you every so often."

“Yeah, I'll make him pay” he muttered under his breath, making you smile.

Carefully you reached up to reach his lips with a kiss and he sighed pathetically into your mouth as you clung to his body. Your skin was so smooth wherever he touched, as if you were a delicate piece of porcelain in his big hands.

“I hope you had a good time”

“Of course I did, sweetie. I already told you, you were perfect"

Perfect. You loved that he described you that way.

"Do you have to go home?"

"Probably. Why?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I just thought maybe we could go to my room. I bought something new that I think you'll like” you said innocently, while you held him by the tie that you had arranged so carefully at the beginning of the evening. Upon hearing this, he wasted no time and carried you in a bridal pose, taking you there while you laughed out loud.

No one questioned Spencer when he arrived later than usual the next morning, smelling of cherry shampoo and with a suspicious purplish mark, knowing that the only one to blame for that would have to be you.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14

[mrinafria]

[contains spoilers]

I'm an eternal digger of good narrative techniques. A decent story becomes great in my eyes if the narrative is done right. And it's one of the hardest things to do really, since there's no one-size-fits-all rule for what technique works well with a particular story and what doesn't. One of the primary reasons I keep obsessing over Lovely Runner is its' narrative technique. In all honesty, if it had a linear, singular narrative, I would not be hyperventilating over it on a constant basis (I still would just a certain amount, because both Byeon Woo Seok and Kim Hye Yoon deserve awards for what they are doing). One reason it has managed to knock it out off the park and take the top spot in my forever-favorite list is how wonderfully well the narrative is done.

The primary perspective used in this show is Im Sol's. It's through her we're introduced to the story. Her perspective gives shape to the plot, the characters, because we learn things through her. Her perspective is absolutely critical for exposition. Without her thoughts and way of viewing things, you would never realize why saving Seon Jae means so much to her, or why she would bend the rules and bulldoze ahead when it comes to his safety (exhibit A, her leaving home on the day of the accident, despite knowing about her fate). She'd rather have him alive than have him in her life. Without her narrative, you'd think it's really all about a fan saving her idol (thanks to everyone who'd rejected the script listening to that pitch by the way, I'm grateful we have BWS and KHY as the leads because of that, I would not change it for anyone else). With Im Sol's perspective, you realize, she is not just a fan: she's an ardent admirer, a cheerleader, a well-wisher, a protector, an invisible friend trying to support her friend any way she can, someone who respects Seon Jae, sees him as an idol but also as a human, someone who wants to give back to him the same kindness, empathy and love she had once received from him over a radio call. To her, Seon Jae is first a guardian angel and then an idol, the angel who changed her view of life, made her appreciate things even amidst all that could be wrong with the world and her life. He saved her. Not just on that day at the hospital but every time she struggled and faltered since then, he was there, as invisible as it may have been. So this time, she wants to save him, no matter the price.

Then comes Seon Jae. Oof. If Im Sol's perspective gives the story its beautiful, beautiful shape, Seon Jae's perspective breathes literal life in to the body of the story. The show wouldn't be what it is today if not for his perspective. Without his view into things, Im Sol appears as a fangirl going to extreme measures to save her idol, clinging onto him like a monkey (yes I mean the poster) embarrassing the heck out of herself, making you cringe (in a good, enjoyable way) throughout. Then you reach the end of episode 2 and it knocks the breath out of you because WHAT DO YOU EVEN MEAN. It all clicks.

All this while we kept thinking Seon Jae was caught off guard and just kind enough to tolerate her antics, and maybe he'd slowly fall for her now, only to realize we were completely oblivious to a whole different side of the story. If Im Sol's narrative draws you in and keeps you hooked, making you root for her to succeed, it's Seon Jae's narrative that makes you irredeemably fall in love with them and sincerely, genuinely, desperately hope they get their happy ending together after all the storm.

And the motifs. Walking/running, for instance. I'll focus on just one scene here. I recall seeing a bts where KHY is discussing the OG 2008 accident scene, and it explains how she has to slow down, while running away, for just a moment, only to be hit by the taxi driver. Have you ever been in a situation of absolute panic, desperation and stress, then suddenly found a familiar face or a name or a thing you could connect to, and felt a wave of relief rush through you? She sees Seon Jae, a person who is calling out her name. Even if she didn't know him back then, the fact that he knew her (and that he had his uniform on), gives her a sense of safety she badly needed that moment. That momentary relief, so visible in her features, then overtakes the crippling fear she felt running in the middle of nowhere with no one in sight in the dead of the night. Her body, already exhausted beyond anything, responds to the relief she feels for those few seconds, slowing down her steps.

And that is when she is caught off-guard and hit. That also might have added to Im Sol's anger at the hospital when she is screaming at Seon Jae, her internal anguish that if only she had not paused seeing Seon Jae, and kept on running, then maybe she wouldn't be hit, wouldn't fall, wouldn't lose her ability to walk. It's one thing to have tropes and symbolic things, but it's a very different thing to know how to use them effectively so they elicit very specific types of emotions/reactions out of people. Lovely Runner excels in that. All kdramas more or less have 'things' that take on different meanings for the couples/viewers. It's the way motifs are used to narrate the story in this one that has me going back over and over again to all the episodes aired so far. These are not just their 'things', these are 'things' that drive the plot forward, tell you about their characters, their personal motivations, what they mean to each other and so much more.

This is getting longer that I intended it to be so will end with this. I feel valued when watching Lovely Runner. And I've seen people saying the same thing. It feels like they respect your critical thinking skills, and your ability to infer, so they don't spoon-feed you everything from the get-go, and you can't predict much despite it being primarily a rom-com. You'd be pulling your hair out (again, in a good way) trying to figure out what they will show next, and you will be somewhat or very far from the truth, which will compel you to think further about the story, the characters, long after an episode has aired...I can't remember the last time it happened with a drama. I love this storytelling.

[catsvrsdogscatswin]

I've had this thought swirling in the back of my head for a while, but it's finally congealed enough that I think I can make a coherent pitch, which is: I think RWBY's problems with the more vitriolic part of its fanbase partially stems from the fact that RWBY is a deconstruction that doesn't advertise it's a deconstruction.

RWBY's status as a deconstruction is pretty textbook. It takes apart standard fantasy, shounen, and anime tropes in order to analyze them and their deeper meaning and then reassembles them in new and interesting ways for the plot/characters/series. Thing is, it never says that outright in promotional material, which can lead to later outrage in fans.

See, unless their way of discovering new shows is to close their eyes and stab their finger at random, most people tend to choose series to watch/read based on expectations. Maybe a friend said they'll like it because it has [insert thing], maybe they read the summary and were intrigued, maybe they thought the poster/cover art was cool, whatever. These small pieces of information are generally enough for people to make a snap-judgment of the style and genre of the series, which they can then gauge against their personal tastes and decide whether or not they want to try.

Most of the time, this works just fine. Well-written deconstructions also generally give the viewers some warning/buildup before they take a hard swerve. See Madoka Magica: the magical girl paradigm is shaded by the possibility of death as soon as we're introduced to it, then there's an onscreen death with blood, and then a few episodes later we eventually realize the Faustian bargain of it all. Even innocent viewers who stumbled into watching it, unaware of the show's reputation, would go "Oh, wait, this is not going in the direction magical girl shows usually go" by a third of the way through.

The thing is, with RWBY, this does not happen unless you're paying a lot of attention and/or looking for it. And neither the cover art nor the summary nor, I believe, the fanbase gives a lot of warning about the swerves ahead.

In fact, RWBY initially bills itself as a pretty standard shounen anime. The main protagonist is hinted to have Special Powers and gets into the Magic Monster-Hunting School in the first episode, and the first two-and-a-half seasons are taken up by her and her friends' superhero-esque slice-of-life shenanigans as they thwart robberies and terrorist attacks and gear up for a tournament arc against the looming background of a larger conspiracy.

Then in the last half of the third season the villains' entire Rube Goldberg machine of a scheme snaps into completion and the plot twists so hard the entire genre takes a hard right. If you're used to character analysis and common anime tropes, this is not completely a surprise -up until this point, RWBY's character arcs and plot have been subtly traveling in non-traditional directions that hint of greater flexibility in genre treatment ahead- but if you're not... well.

Thing is, people watching RWBY up until this point have signed up for pretty standard shounen and they've been getting it, but the third season's ending smashes that all to bits. From then on out in RWBY, it's like they ordered fries and suddenly got a hamburger. It might be delicious; but it's not what they asked for, what they wanted, or what they paid for, and they are, justifiably, displeased.

So when the reasonable people either adjusted their expectations or sighed, shook their heads, and clicked back out (perhaps with a grumble and a scowl), the unreasonable people dug their heels in and began insisting that everybody was Getting The Show/Character Wrong and that CRWBY is ruining it, because the fact that RWBY's method of deconstruction is to put standard tropes in a blender and then arrange what's left in deceptive patterns means that said unreasonable viewers can scan the bare surface and argue that all the stereotypical stuff is clearly still under there, somewhere.

So they're continually trying to drag RWBY back to the tracks of a typical shounen anime series (it's closest relative), which creates a dissonance between the show they're watching and the show they think they're watching. They're trying to turn the hamburger back into fries, basically, except that doesn't work and just frustrates everyone involved, because you're trying to make RWBY into something that it's not. Hence, this attitude probably starting/fueling some of the more contentious statements in the fandom, i.e.:

"Ironwood was right the whole time" (in most action movies and shounen anime, allied military leaders are trustworthy beyond reproach)

"Adam's character was wasted" (we all know how much shounen loves their powerful warrior antiheroes)

"Ruby and the others are in the wrong about [insert thing]/or for doing [insert thing], and this is bad writing!" (shounen protagonists don't usually make more than One Very Big Mistake over the course of their entire careers, which is usually fixed/overcome/redeemed via an appropriately rigorous training arc)

And to be clear, there's nothing wrong with shounen tropes or shounen anime. They're wonderful storytelling devices in their own way and their own time: but if you want standard by-the-book shounen without any new and interesting concoctions, then RWBY is definitely not the show for you. And most people don't find that out until it's too late.