#and it’s easy. right. so it’s not bad necessarily but it’s like. Expected. and i don’t feel like it’s something he would want to do

[lord-squiggletits]

Part of why I hate this fandom's take on Autobots vs Decepticons is ppl (mainly 'con fans honestly) who can't have any nuance of the situation whatsoever and love to write plots like "oh the humans are racist and abusive towards Cybertronians so this is how Megatron is right" no actually I don't think colonialism/imperialism and racism are justified so long as you can point the finger and say "they were the aggressors first" or "their hands are no cleaner than ours bc their society sucks too" sorry. Please come up with better sociopolitical narratives in your war story.

[healingheartdogs]

Saw a post earlier of someone being like "see how my puppy isn't bothering me while I eat and is minding his own business playing in the other room? That's because in this house animals aren't ever allowed to have people food from the moment they come home with me so they never even learn to want it." The post and most of the comments on it were very high and mighty "I'm a better owner than other people, I'm the boss of my dog, I don't allow my dog to offend me by showing desire for highly desirable resources" attitude and were very much judging other people for not having the same boundaries and annoyances about dog behaviors around food with their own dogs in their own homes and I just like... absolutely can not relate at all, tbh. There is a type of person who uses phrases like "people food" unironically, thinks that dogs being allowed to have good things that are usually intended for humans is somehow offensive and wrong, gets annoyed by a dog even being allowed to exist in the same room when people are eating, and thinks a dog just looking at them for more than 30 seconds while they have food or hanging out watching them doing stuff is the dog bothering them and being rude, and every time I encounter this type of person it makes me wonder why they even own a dog when they clearly hate natural dog behaviors and are bothered by dogs just wanting to be around people, do things with them, and receive human attention more than once in a blue moon.

When I make breakfast after I wake up and take it to my room to eat Hermes always eagerly follows right behind me because he expects he's going to get something from me. That expectation is almost always correct, and I feel absolutely zero shame about it. Him laying calmly at my feet or next to my chair quietly watching me eat is not "bothering me". He's quite literally not doing anything to be a bother, he's just patiently chilling. If a dog hanging out nearby and calmly watching while people eat bothers you enough to consider that bad nosey behavior that is deserving of you ridiculing other dog owners for allowing it that's uhhh... weird af? At least to me it's weird, sorry not sorry. Like maybe you actually just don't like having dogs around then if they can bother you without even really doing anything? Cuz IDK about y'all but I love my dogs hanging around me and wanting to be close to me and even seeking engagement from me. I love them being excited about being around me and following me around because they know I give them good things. I also like having their attention and eyes on me in general - especially Hermes, as a dog of a breed that is often more environmentally focused than handler focused and whose attention I've had to work for and earn. Looking at me is something that I specifically reward all my dogs for and immediately start to capture during their initial introductions to clicker training because I find it to be beneficial during training sessions (as well as a good way to charge the clicker), so it would be ridiculous and unfair for me to get annoyed by it and discourage it in other scenarios like when I'm eating. In fact, I see Hermes calmly laying down nearby and politely seeking eye contact with me whenever I look his way while I'm eating my breakfast as a sign that he knows how to act to get what he wants because he understands his training well, and that he is putting that training to work by being an attentive calm good boy and waiting patiently for me to respect my end of the deal that I have taught him and give him his reward for the behaviors he's offering that I have repeatedly asked him for in the past.

Also like... if he is in the way somehow while people are eating or if we're eating something he can't have and I don't want him near us just in case someone drops something (even though he has an extremely solid leave it, still better safe than sorry) then I just tell him to go to his bed??? and then share a little bite of my food with him to reward him for going to lay on his bed if it's safe or give him something else like a couple of small dog treats or a pork chew on his bed if my food isn't dog safe. After that he will stay on his bed and keep being a calm patient boy because he's learned that staying on his bed after being told to go to it means he will continue to occasionally get more treats or small pieces of my dog safe food tossed to him for the duration of his time there until he is released. Often times because he's working so hard to be calm and patient to earn a few bites of my food he just ends up falling asleep next to me or on his bed, which is definitely the opposite of being bothersome. I like to thank him for that patience and calmness by gently waking him up to share the last bite of my food or give him a little treat jackpot and some praise before releasing him.

Maybe I'm a "bad" trainer (lol) but I enjoy spoiling my dogs by sharing some of my dog safe "people food" with them in moderation, and you can definitely share "people food" with dogs without making them annoying or untrustworthy around food. Despite what the person who made that post seems to incorrectly think, simply letting a dog have a taste of "people food" sometimes does not create unwanted bothersome behaviors around food. Rewarding unwanted behaviors that bother you instead of wanted behaviors that don't bother you is what causes that. That's it, that's the sole cause. Like... you could just only share food with them if they're being calm or waiting patiently on their bed or whatever it is you want from them during meal times. Boom, the "bothering" problem is solved and your dog still gets to enjoy a special treat. In fact, my experience as a dog trainer is that the high value and novelty of that special "people food" treat often makes the rewarding of the not-bothering behavior you want from them while you eat much more motivating and effective than giving them one of their regular treats or chews as a reward or distraction, so the settling down not-bothering behavior you want is even more likely to be consistently freely offered up in the future since it is so highly rewarded.

When I've had clients in the past express concerns about causing begging by giving their dogs "people food" or tell me they feel guilty about it because they've been told by people like that poster I saw that it's a bad thing to do in general, this has been my advice to them - not to stop doing the whole sharing thing that makes them and their dog happy, but just to make it more productive for the kind of relationship they want to have with their dog and the behaviors they are wanting to see. It's a simple solution that can turn a meal into a nearly effortless high value training session for teaching settling during household activities and around food, which is something that is a common frustration to achieve for a lot of inexperienced dog owners. If you handle your dogs sometimes being given bits of food scraps as treats this way then everyone wins, especially the people who like to spoil their dogs and share food with them (which is VERY NORMAL TO WANT TO DO BECAUSE WE ARE A SOCIAL SPECIES THAT BONDS THROUGH RESOURCE SHARING) because now those people can turn that desire to spoil their beloved companions into some easy training. Just be sure to consider if ingredients are dog safe or not and be mindful of oversharing and sharing foods with high fat content because maintaining a balanced diet is important for health.

Also that OP apparently doesn't realize this yet based on the wording of their post, but if you have a dog that is at all decently food motivated then just ignoring them while you have food and never sharing is not going to teach them to leave people alone in the presence of food and never try to seek food from anyone. This is especially true if anyone ever accidentally drops something around your dog (it'll happen eventually) and they snag it and self reward because you never actually taught them not to do that, or if anyone else in your house isn't as firm with that boundary or is unable to enforce it consistently and ends up giving them food purposefully or accidentally (as can often happen in households with children or that sometimes invite guests over). "I don't ever share people food with animals in my house starting from day one and I ignore them when food is out so they never learn to even want it to begin with" is not training your dog to leave food or people who are eating food alone. That's doing nothing and hoping that your new puppy or dog doesn't care about the delicious smells of food or people gathering together in the house for food related activities multiple times a day enough that they will quickly get bored and give up on trying to investigate all "people food" related activities for the rest of their lives without you training them, which is an absolutely ridiculous expectation. Just not ever giving a dog any of your food doesn't make it stop smelling like food to them and won't magically make them never be curious about seeing what you have and if they can get some of it. They don't have to be given food by you off your plate to know that it smells interesting or to figure out that seeing you eating it means it might be something they can eat. Having a superiority complex about NOT actually training your new puppy how to act around food and ignoring them as "training" instead is certainly funny, in a "not funny haha, funny weird" kind of way. It's also pretty irresponsible since some foods that humans eat are dangerous to dogs. Instead of just ignoring them when food is around and hoping they'll learn to leave all food that isn't their dog food alone on their own, a responsible owner should actually be actively teaching their dogs to leave food in general alone unless it is offered to them, even when food is left where they can easily get to it.

Anyway, if people could just stop being weird about dogs doing normal dog things and existing in spaces around humans, do some basic research on dog behavior and how dogs learn before getting a dog, actually train their dogs to the minimum level required to make themselves not be regularly upset at their dogs for acting untrained and "bothering" them, and stop developing weird superiority complexes because they get lucky for a while right after bringing home a new dog or puppy and it manages to not cause them any problems or upset them yet... that would be cool.

[mangoisms]

weird question. but in ur opinion, what major would tim do at college? I was thinking comp sci but making him a business major would be so funny

good question! to be honest.. i want to say it’s difficult to pin down any one major he’d choose, especially because i feel like he’s not exactly academically inclined, at least if he’s doing vigilante stuff? school was always a big issue for him hence him dropping out to focus on The Mission and that seems like All He Is Doing right now thank you dc editorial. but if he isn’t… comp sci is a good choice but for me, i lean towards maybe something like mechanical engineering? or electrical engineering? kinda feel like he has comp sci in the bag already from having to learn it/having learned it in his time as a vigilante (largely due to babs im sure!)

but mechanical or electrical engineering just because of how much stuff he created for his suit when he was robin and how he was always reconfiguring redbird and messing with all of it. although where those skills and that degree could be applied is Another Question Entirely. my best guess is — and this is probably super basic — with WE? or maybe if we want to have a little fun. somewhere like kord industries. or even STAR labs. or maybe a teaching position? could see him being down for that as he gets older

a little more indulgent would be photography but even if not a major i would like to think he at least minors in it or something!

business major would be SO funny because he would be miserable the entire time. i think.

but yeah! he’s just. idk. probably hates prerequisites. probably wants to take ten classes at once. he’d really need to slow down i think which is the goal. ultimately. for me. in any case This got very long my bad <3 i’m just. fascinated by him and his mysterious future

[sysig]

I finally set my last notebook to rest, so it’s time for a new one (Patreon)

[cy-cyborg]

Disability Tropes: The Perfect Prosthetic

[ID: A screenshot from the movie Nimona, showing Nimona, a small white girl with red hair, grabbing the right prosthetic arm of Ballister, a knight in black armour with black hair and light brown skin. He is holding a broken bottle in his prosthetic hand while Nimona admires his arm. Overlaid on the screenshot is white text that reads "Disability Tropes: The Perfect Prosthetic" /End ID]

In a lot of media, prosthetic limbs are portrayed as these devices that act as a near-perfect replacement for a character who has lost, or was born without a limb. So much so that in a lot of cases, the use of a prosthetic has basically no impact on the character beyond a superficial level or their appearance, or it's portrayed as something that's even better than the old meat-limb it's replacing. This trope shows up most often in Sci-fi, but it shows up in all kinds of stories outside of that, even otherwise very grounded ones!

If a story isn't depicting the loss of a limb as the be-all-end-all worst thing that can happen to a person, they almost always default to a perfect prosthetic, functionally curing the amputation with it. But the reality is that prosthetics are FAR from perfect, and as someone who has used them for their entire life I don't think they ever will be. Limb difference is still and always will be a disability, regardless of the prosthetics available, and this really isn't a bad thing.

Why is this trope so common?

I meant it when I said this is a really, really a common trope, so much so that the majority of the media I've seen with amputees and characters with limb differences that released in the last decade or end up using it. Even stories where becoming an amputee is treated like a fate worse than death, ironically, aren't excluded from this. I have a few theories as to why this has happened: The pessimistic answer is that it's easy. You get to have a disabled character and claim you have disability representation, without really having to do much extra work or research because most of your audience won't notice if you aren't accurate - in fact they kind of expect it. You also, for the most part, dodge the backlash other kinds of disability representation (or really any minority representation) usually get. The more optimistic reason is that, for a long time, amputees and people with limb differences (as well as a lot of other disabled people) were predominantly shown in media as sad, depressed and unable to do anything, very much falling into the "sad disabled person" trope. As a kid, this was really the only way I saw people like me on screen or in books. And so, the limb difference community pushed back against that portrayal and were pretty successful in changing the narrative in the public's eye. A little too successful. A lot of creatives were genuinely trying to do right by our community, listen and do better, but many simply overcorrected and instead ended up creating stories where prosthetics were essentially cures instead of the mobility aids they are. I also think the public's general lack of understanding about disability plays a roll in all this. There are a lot of people who, in my experience, believe that the more visible a disability is, the worse it is. Limb differences and amputations are very visible, but prosthetics, even those that aren't trying to be discreet, make them less so. While using a prosthetic is very, very different to a biological limb, you won't necessarily see how in a casual interaction with, say a co-worker or neighbor, especially because there is a very real stigma applied to people with limb differences to keep those things hidden from the public. There are other reasons too, such as the fact that a lot of creatives don't even consider the connection to real amputees when creating characters with robotic limbs in genres like sci-fi and some fantasy, so they never stop to consider that these tropes could be impacting real people. Amputees are also very frequently used in "inspiration porn" content that uses the angle that disabilities can be "overcome" with a good attitude, downplaying the way those disabilities actually impact us. The prosthetics industry - specifically the component manufacturers, often also push the idea of prosthetics being the only way to return to a "normal" life, both to the wider public and to people with limb differences and amputations (which can add to that sense of shame I mentioned when it doesn't play out that way for them). On top of that, I also think the recent increase in popularity of concepts like trans-humanism contributes to it as well. these movements often talk about robotic or bionic body parts being enhancements and "the way of the future", and I think people get a bit too caught up on what may be potentially possible in the future with the real, current experiences of people with "robotic limbs" aka prosthetics, now. There are also inherently disabling things that come with removing and replacing parts of your body, things that will not just go away with some fancier tech.

So How do you actually avoid the trope?

So, we have some ideas about why it happens, but how do you actually avoid the "perfect prosthetic" trope from appearing in your work? The most important thing is to remember that this is still a disability. The loss of a limb, even with the best prosthetic technology or magical item in the world, will always have some inherently disabling aspects to it - and this is not a bad thing. The key is to not over-do it, lest you risk falling into the old "sad disabled person" trope. So let's go over some of the ways you can show how your character's disability impacts them. You don't have to use all of these recommendations, just choose the ones that would best fit your character, their circumstances and your setting.

The prosthetic itself is just different

Probably the most important thing to address and acknowledge for prosthetic-using characters, is the actual ways in which the prosthetic itself is different from a biological limb, and the drawbacks and changes that come with that. For the sake of simplicity, I'm mainly going to focus on modern prosthetics here, but it's worth considering how to apply this your own, more advanced/fantastical prosthetics too. One major thing that most people writing amputees fail to acknowledge is that prosthetic limbs are not fleshy-limbs with a different coat of paint. They do the same basic thing their meat-counterparts do, but how they do it is often drastically different, which changes how they are used. A really good example of this is in prosthetic feet. There are dozens of joints in a biological foot, but most prosthetic feet have no joints or moving parts at all. Instead of having dozens of artificial joints to mimic the real bone structure of a foot, which are more prone to failure, require power and make the prosthetic much, much heavier for very little gain, prosthetic feet are often constructed from flexible carbon fiber sheets inside a flexible rubber foot-shaped shell. This allows the bend and flex those bones provide, without all the drawbacks that come from trying to directly mimic it. Making the sheets into different shapes makes them more ideal for different activities. E.g. feet made for general use, like walking around the city, are simple and light, shaped to encourage the most energy-efficient steps, while still allowing their users to do things like wear normal shoes. Feet made for rough terrain often have a split down the middle of the foot to allow the carbon fiber sheets to bend better over rocks when there is no ankle, and some newer designs also include a kind of suspension using pressurized air pulled from the prosthetic socket to allow some additional padding. Running feet have large "blades" made of these carbon fiber sheets to absorb more pressure when the foot hits the ground, and redirect the force that creates to propel their user forward as quickly as possible.

[ID: A photo of 4 prosthetic feet. On the left, the foot is covered with a black shoe, the one to it's right consists of a small, carbon fiber blade, split down the middle, in roughly the same shape and size as the previous foot. Next to the right is an even simpler and smaller carbon fiber foot with no split, and finally is a very short foot that is vaguely rectangular in shape. /End ID]

These are some of my own prosthetic feet I've had over the years. The two on the right are designed to be used by someone who is less mobile, and the ones on the left are made for someone who is more active. As my needs changed over the years, I've used different designs and styles, and keep the old ones since my needs do tend to fluctuate.

There are also robotic feet available that are designed as a kind of "all-purpose" foot that use an electronic ankle which more closely mimics a biological foot, but they are not very popular as the mechanism adds a lot of extra weight and it requires a battery and power to work, with many amputees feeling the jointless carbon fiber feet do a better job at meeting their needs. The same goes for arms and hands. "Robotic" hands that mimic a meat hand exist, but they aren't really that popular, even in places like Australia where the prohibitively expensive price tag isn't as much of an issue due to government programs that pay for the device for you. Instead, most arm amputees who use prosthetics that I know prefer simpler devices that do specific tasks, and just swap between them as needed, rather than something that tries to do it all. A big part of this is because the all-purpose hands can be clunky. they often require manual adjustment using the other hand to do simple things like going from holding a deck of cards to putting them down and picking up a glass of water, for example. The few that don't require that, I've been told, are often temperamental and don't actually work for every person with a limb difference.

Altered Proprioception

Loosing a limb is a big deal and this is always going to have an impact on the body in some way that won't be solved with a fancy piece of tech. One such example is how limb loss effects your sense of proprioception. This is your sense of where your body parts are in space. It's how you (mostly) know where your foot is going to land when you're walking, or how you're able to do things like lift up a glass of water without needing to actually watch your hand do it. Your brain does this by creating a mental map of your body, but this map doesn't get adjusted if you loose a limb. If that map doesn't accurately reflect your real body, you're not going to have an accurate sense of proprioception. This might look like a leg amputee being a bit less stable on their feet, or like an arm amputee needing to look at their arm or hand to be able to grab something with it. Those born without their limbs who take to using prosthetics often have a lot of trouble adapting, as their brains aren't used to having that limb in the first place, whereas an amputee's brain can sometimes be tricked into using their outdated body map to help them adjust to the prosthetic (though its impossible to line it up perfectly). Prosthetics that directly integrate with the nervous system, while rare, do exist, and even this direct connection doesn't completely erase this issue for reasons doctors aren't quite sure about. This is something that does become less of a problem with time. Eventually, someone proficient with their prosthetic will learn to compensate, but their sense of proprioception will never be 100% perfect. At the end of the day, no matter how it attaches, a prosthetic is still not a natural part of the body, and that will always cause some issues. It also means if they aren't practicing it all the time, they may have to relearn how to compensate for it.

Extra weight

You also have to remember that a prosthetic is not a natural part of the body, like we already talked about, and so no matter how good it is, your brain will most likely always interpret the weight of the prosthetic as something attached to you, not part of you. This means that, even though prosthetics are actually a lot lighter than biological limbs, they feel so much heavier. This is because, while a meat limb is heavier, a lot of that weight is from muscles which are actively contributing to the limb working, so it doesn't really feel like its that heavy. When you have less of your meat-limb though, you have even less muscle to work with to move this big thing strapped to it, so it feels heavier. The more of the limb you've lost, or just didn't have, the heavier the prosthetic has to be, and the less muscle you have left to move it. It's for this reason that a lot of amputees and people with limb differences get tired faster when using prosthetics. Some of us are fit enough where you almost wouldn't notice the extra effort they need to put in, but once again, just because you can't see it from the outside, doesn't mean it's not an issue.

Avoiding Water

Most prosthetics also aren't waterproof, and so prosthetic users have to be very careful about when and how they come into contact with it. For amputees with electric components, contact with water at all will likely damage the device. This can even include especially heavy rain, something I was told to avoid when I got my electronic knee prosthetic and something I assume would also apply to arm amputees with complex, electronic hands. For those with non-electronic prosthetics, water can be hazardous for different reasons. If the prosthetic has metal components, water may cause them to rust, especially if it's salty water. Other prosthetics have foam covers to give the illusion of a limb with the general shape of muscles and fat, but these covers do not come off, and if they get wet enough that water seeps all the way through, it is very hard to dry it and they may become moldy. Finally, cheaper modern prosthetics may also float. Many are made of very light-weight materials and some have pockets of air trapped inside them. For leg prosthetics in particular, this means a user might, at best, struggle to swim with them on, but at worst, may get flipped upside down and become trapped underwater - something that happened to me as a very young child. On the flip-side, older prosthetics were usually made of heavy materials like wood or steel, and so had the opposite problem, acting like a weight and pulling a person down if they were to wear them in the water. Water-safe prosthetics do exist, I had a pair of prosthetic legs as a teenager that were hollow, and designed especially for me to swim with fins on when swimming in the ocean, and Nadya Vessey, a double leg amputee in New Zealand even got a mermaid-tail prosthetic made especially for use in the water. Most amputees though just swim without any prosthetics at all, and in 99% of cases, this is the easiest and safest way to go.

Prosthetic-Related Pressure Sores and Pain

Many people with limb differences also experience pressure sores from their prosthetics. Modern prosthetics typically attach to the body using a socket made of carbon fiber or fiberglass, held on either by pressure, using a vacuum seal or through a mechanical locking system built into the socket. No matter the specifics though, the socket has to be very tight in order to stay on, and this means that extended periods of use can lead to rub-spots, blisters and pressure sores. Many socket prosthetics also use silicone liners to add extra padding, but this means wounds caused by the pressure can't breathe, and bacteria in sweat has nowhere to go, meaning if the person doesn't rest when one of these wounds occur, it can very easily and quickly turn into a serious infection. In a properly fitting prosthetic, used by someone who has fully adjusted to them, this doesn't happen often, but it is something most amputees and people with limb differences have to at least be mindful of. Some new prosthetics use a different method of attachment, called Osteointegration - where the prosthetic attaches to a clip, surgically implanted into the person's bones. While Osteointegration avoids many of the issues like pressure sores that come from a socket, they have their own issues: mainly that they are incredibly expensive, and as of right now, have a pretty high failure rate due to the implant getting infected. Because the implants are directly connected to the bone, these infections become very serious very quickly. Many people with Osteointegration limbs have to be on very strong medication to keep these infections at bay, and they are generally considered unsuitable for anyone who is going to regularly come into contact with "unclean" environments.

Maintenance

[ID: A screenshot of Winrey, from Full Metal alchemist Brotherhood, a white woman with blond hair handing out the sides of a green hat. She is measuring a piece of metal from a prosthetic she is making while Ed, the prosthetic's owner, gives her a thumbs up in the background. /End ID]

Finally, prosthetics also require maintenance from a specialist called a prosthetist, and they don't last forever. Some parts, like a foot or hand, can be reused over an over, but the sockets of a prosthetic need to be completely remade any time your body changes shape, including if you gain/loose weight, you start experiencing swelling, or you're just a child who is growing. Children in particular need new prosthetics every few months because they grow so fast, and as such, their prosthetics have to be made with this growth in mind. If they go too long without adjustment or an entirely new prosthetic, it can seriously impact the child and their growth but even small adjustments can be costly, depending on where you live. While prosthetics are built to be sturdy and reliable, they need a lot of work to stay that way. The more complex the prosthetic, the more work is needed. Complicated electronic components may need to have regular maintenance done by your prosthetist or even the specific component's manufacturer, and depending on where you live, this might mean having to send your prosthetic limb away for this to be done. While my prosthetist technically has the skills and knowledge to do the maintenance on my electronic knee, for example, the manufacturer forbids anyone not from their company to provide this service, meaning my leg needs to be shipped off to Germany once every few years if I want to keep the warranty. This has the unfortunate side effect of sometimes your limbs getting lost in postage (shout-out to Australia Post, who lost mine twice), meaning it can be months before you get it back or get a replacement. Usually, you'll be given a replacement in the meantime if you need it, but walking on a leg that isn't yours, even when its correctly fitted, always feels a bit weird (maybe that's just me though).

Not every difference is Inherently Negative

We've talked about some of the negatives that come from having a prosthetic, but not every difference is negative or even really that big of a deal. In fact, often times, it's these little moments in the depiction of a disability that go the furthest and make it feel the most genuine. My amputations effect me from the moment I wake up, to the moment I go to bed, but that doesn't mean every single way it impacts me is always inherently bad or negative. For example, back when I was working a normal job and going to university, I would often come home, throw my legs off at the door with the shoes still attached and get into my wheelchair, the same way you might throw your shoes off after work and replace them with comfy socks and other comfy clothing. This is something I've only ever seen on screen once, with Eda from the Owl House (and she wasn't even an amputee yet, her limbs were just detachable)

[ID: an screenshot of Eda from the owl house, a very pale woman, laying on the couch in a bathrobe, her hair in a towel. She has taken her actual legs off, throwing them to the other side of the seat. /End ID]

After that, my day mostly looked the same as most other people working a 9 to 5, I'd make myself dinner, watch some TV or play some games, maybe do some extra work at my desk or chat with friends. The only difference is that it would all be from a wheelchair, mainly because my prosthetics were heavy and it was just easier to use the chair around the house. The fact my afternoon and evening routine was done from a wheelchair wasn't a bad thing, it was just different. Likewise, I also don't sleep or shower with my prosthetics on, for the same reasons most other people wouldn't take a shower or sleep in thigh-high, steel-capped boots. In your own stories, this might look like giving your characters similar alterations to how they go about their day. Let them take their arm or leg off when they're resting or relaxing, show them taking a few minutes longer to get ready because they have to put it back on, show them doing some things without it. Arm amputees in particular tend to get very good at going about their days without their arm prosthetics, and leg amputees often either learn to get around more relaxed spaces like their homes using a different mobility aids like wheelchairs or crutches, or just through hopping if that's something they're physically able to do. Even when everything is going well and working as intended, your limb-different character won't wear their prosthetic 24/7, no matter how much they love it. There doesn't have to be something wrong with it or painful about it to not want it glued to them at all times, just like you can love a pair of big heavy boots but not want them on when you're trying to sleep. For more action-focused stories, being an amputee, also changes things like how you fight. The specifics will vary from person to person, but for example, when I did Hap Ki Do, a Korean Martial art, my instructor heavily modified when I learned what techniques. Beginner-level kicks and most leg attacks were impractical for me, as the force from the kicking motion would usually cause one of my legs to fly off. I also couldn't jump very well, due to some complications with my original amputation that made my stumps too sensitive to withstand the force of landing again. So I ended up learning a lot more upper-body attacks much earlier than it is typically taught. By the time I got my green belt, I was practicing upper-body techniques usually saved for black belts - including weapons training that I could use my secondary mobility aids for, like crutches and my cane in a bad situation. Many holds that rely on creating tension in your target are also less effective on amputees, because either the anatomy that causes those holds to be painful just simply isn't there, or the body part in question can just be removed to escape. Whether we're talking about the negative things, or just neutral differences that come with using prosthetics, you don't want to go too far with any one example. The key is to strike a balance. Of course, the old writing advice of "show don't tell" also applies here. It's one thing to tell us all of this stuff, but unless we actually see it play out, it won't mean much.

How NOT to avoid the trope

Before we move on, let's focus for a moment on some common things I've seen that you SHOULDN'T do as a way to get away from the trope.

The Enhanced Prosthetic

A lot of sci-fi in particular will take prosthetic limbs, make them function exactly the same as a biological limb, but add something extra to it. This does change the way the prosthetic functions and is used, but it usually still ignores the actual disabling parts of having a prosthetic. A really good example of this can be seen in pretty much any futuristic setting, but personally, I think Fizzeroli, from Helluva Boss is the best one to demonstrate what I mean. Fizz is a quadrilateral, above knee/above elbow amputee with highly advanced prosthetics that function, more or less exactly like the limbs he lost, but with the added benefit of being super-stretchy. Fizz is an acrobat and a clown in service, at least initially, to Mammon, one of the Seven Deadly Sins. These prosthetics help him perform and we even do see how they change little things like how he walks and just goes about his day, but the show still treats them like natural arms and legs, but better. 

[ID: A screenshot of Fizzeroli from Helluva Boss, a white-skinned imp with 4 black, prosthetic limbs, dressed in teal a nightgown as he lays in bed, reading from a list /End ID]

We see that he never takes them off, even when sleeping, and when he needs to use them as regular arms and legs, they do everything he needs, perfectly fine - at least when they're working correctly. The only time he ever even takes them off or has any issues with them, is when they break in season 2. The word amputee is never used to describe him, as far as I remember, and the fact he is one never really comes up at all, except for when they break or when the story focuses on how he lost them. Which brings me to my next point.

The Glitchy/Broken Prosthetic

One way I see people try to avoid the perfect prosthetic trope, is to take the prosthetic and break it or otherwise make it unreliable by having it malfunction, but not really changing anything else. This approach is heading in the right direction but still kind of misses the point of the criticism a lot of limb different folks have with the depictions of prosthetics in the media. Yeah, prosthetics do break down and some do require extra maintenance, but if your character's prosthetic is still exactly the same as a biological limb (or even better, in the case of the "enhanced prosthetic") when it's not broken, and the only time their disability is treated like a disability, is when it breaks, you're not really addressing the issue. Real prosthetics, like we discussed, even when functioning at 100%, exactly as the manufacturer intended, don't function the same as a meat-limb. They are fundamentally different, and the glitchy/unreliable prosthetic completely ignores all of that. Once again, Fizz is a really good example of this - the only time his prosthetics are not perfect, is when they break or are malfunctioning (despite the criticism, I do genuinely love Fizz as a character, but he unfortunately does fall into a lot of disability tropes).

[ID: Another screenshot of Fizzeroli, this time in a torn up jester outfit, looking down, panicked, at his prosthetic arms which are fully extended and laying motionless on the ground, with his left arm visibly short-circuiting with electricity around it. /End ID]

Now this isn't to say you can't have your character's prosthetics break down or malfunction at all. just that this shouldn't be the only way you differentiate the prosthetic from a biological limb. You should also be mindful of how or why they're breaking. A typical prosthetic isn't going to break down randomly from normal use unless something is very, very wrong or your character just has a terrible prosthetist (which unfortunately, does happen). You might experience issues if you try to make the prosthetic do something it just wasn't designed to do, or expose it to something it wasn't designed to deal with though (e.g. submerging an electronic prosthetic in water and trying to use it to swim).

Just add Phantom Pain

Another common pitfall I see when people are trying to avoid the perfect prosthetic trope, is to just give the character in question phantom pain - which is a side-effect of amputation where your brain's mental map of the body doesn't acknowledged you lost a limb. Your brain tries to fill in the gaps, since there is no signals coming from that part of the body anymore, and assumes either something must be wrong and so you should be in pain, even when you actually aren't. Alternatively, it can also happen when your brain was so used to feeling pain from that area before, in the case of people who had chronic conditions before they lost their limb, that it just keeps remaking those old signals itself. Like the broken/glitchy prosthetic approach, this also doesn't really address the issue with the perfect prosthetic trope, because it has nothing to do with the prosthetic itself. Phantom pain doesn't come from the prosthetic, nor does it effect how they're used, and so including it doesn't really address the issue of the prosthetic being functionally the same as the original, biological limb. This isn't to say that you shouldn't include phantom limb sensation or pain as something your character experiences, but just keep in mind that, when used on it's own, it doesn't counter the trope. Also, just be sure to do your research, everyone's experience with phantom pain is different and it's not something everyone with a limb difference even experiences.

Why is this trope even a problem?

Alright, so we know what the trope is, we know why it became so prevalent, ways to avoid it and also how not to avoid it. All good information, but why is this trope even bad? Why should you try to avoid it? Outside of just wanting to portray a real disability that effects real people more accurately in your creations, the prevalence of this trope actually contributes to a lot of real-world issues, especially when it's as overused as it currently is. I've talked before about "the jaws effect" - where the depiction of something in the media, especially something that the public is widely uneducated on, influences how people see it in real life. The Jaws effect specifically referred to how the popularity of creature-feature movies featuring sharks, like Jaws, caused the belief that sharks were monstrous killing machines to become much more wide-spread, even going so far as to influence decisions about laws and policy surrounding real-life shark preservation and culling in some parts of the world. But sharks aren't the only thing this has happened to.

Disabled people are so thoroughly misunderstood by wider society, that when tropes like this one become popular, people can and often do start to believe the misinformation they spread - in this case, believing that our prosthetics are a perfect replacement for a biological limb, and that getting a prosthetic means you're not disabled any more. While this can be annoying and cause small scale issues for some of us, like people giving us a hard time for using disability accommodations we very much need, it can also impact us in systemic ways too. If the wrong people believe these tropes, it can and does have a very real impact on the lives of disabled people through things like changes to policies to make it harder for amputees and people with limb differences to access financial assistance for other things outside of our prosthetics we may need assistance with.

Conclusion

Despite the very real harm tropes like this can do when it's overused, I don't think it should go away entirely. Some of my favourite pieces of media even use the perfect prosthetic trope and there are even some kinds of media where I even think it's somewhat unavoidable. Characters with perfect prosthetics in kids media in particular, especially when talking about side characters, can help to correct some of the other stereotypes kids may have seen elsewhere - such as prosthetics being "creepy" or "scary" - in a way that is casual and easy for them to understand. The problem with the trope, in my eyes, is it's excessive overuse. It's the fact that it seems to be the only representation amputees and people with limb differences are getting now. Not every story with a limb-different character can or even should delve into the reality of what using prosthetics is actually like, but we need at least some stories that do, without it being this majorly depressing thing.

[thatmexisaurusrex]

I think sometimes about Tommy and Evan, a few years in. Maybe they're recently married. Maybe Tommy's hair is greying just a bit. I think about Tommy finding a baby left at his station while coming into work. I think about how that baby cries whenever it's in anyone else's arms other than Tommy's. I think about Tommy volunteering to stay behind that day to be with the baby until CPS comes.

I think about Athena filling Tommy in on the status of the baby's parents - Dad died before she was born; Mom, unfortunately, found herself in a car accident that killed her that morning after dropping the baby off. No other relatives. Nowhere to call home.

I think about Tommy looking at this baby girl and thinking about his own time in the system. When he wasn't with his father; when he was bounced around foster families and then group homes.

I think about Tommy having this ache for this baby the moment that he met her. This connection he never thought he would have. This yearning to be there for this small baby.

He wants this kid.

He wants to be there for her.

He wants - he wants to adopt her.

Which feels like too fast of a feeling.

Too soon.

I think about Tommy panicking in the back of his mind at the thought of that; wondering if this is even a good idea. If this would change the relationship he had with Evan. If Evan would want this so suddenly. If this would be the moment Evan realized that maybe Tommy's past fears were true; that Tommy wasn't the man Evan wanted to be with for the rest of his life; that Evan would leave Tommy for this.

Which are irrational thoughts.

Cruel thoughts.

Yet somehow, none of those thoughts stops Tommy from volunteering to watch the baby for a few days when the woman from CPS talks about having some issues figuring out a placement for the baby for the next few nights.

And.

Well.

Tommy should have asked Evan. He tries to warn Evan, but the warning goes to voicemail. Tommy goes home with this baby, unsure of whether or not Evan will be mad or confused or pissed that Tommy made this sudden life decision all on his own, even if it's only for a few days.

Tommy tells himself it will only be for a few days. Because how could it be for more?

And when Tommy gets home, he finds that Evan had swung around Maddie and Chimney's place to steal Jee's old crib and was currently putting it back together. Evan apologizes; he thought he sent a text back and - and he sees the kid too.

And.

Tommy doesn't know if it's the same instant connection, but Evan's always been good with kids. He seems happy to take care of her.

And.

Well.

The baby isn't easy. She's crying and up at weird hours and she would be an absolute nightmare if she wasn't so cute; so sweet in the moments of reprieve.

Evan doesn't seem to complain about it.

And.

And maybe Tommy falls more in love with the baby even with the challenges. He really does. He has trouble leaving the kid alone. He just wants to be around her and make sure she's happy and okay.

And.

It gets to the point where Evan notices something because it's Evan who reminds Tommy reluctantly that they're only keeping her for a few days as CPS sorts out a good placement for the baby. A few days that had already turned into almost a week.

And.

That was when.

Tommy said it.

That maybe he didn't want to have her temporarily. Maybe - maybe he wanted her for as long as they could have her.

Which.

Throws Evan for a loop. Not necessarily in a bad way, but it wasn't exactly something that he had expected. At least, not right then. With them both in jobs that don't exactly have the best hours for raising a kid. They thought they would probably be older parents if they decided to be parents later on.

Well.

Tommy would already be an older parent as is.

But Evan talks about how they probably couldn't adopt her if they both stayed firefighters.

And.

Well.

Tommy proposes that maybe he won't be anymore.

I think about Tommy telling Evan this. How Evan would be confused and tell Tommy that he doesn't have to do that; that this is his career too. But Tommy has been thinking about this for a while.

And.

Tommy's goals have never really been career-oriented. He just wants a family. A home. Loved ones. People who care for him as much as he cares for them.

Not like Tommy can't pivot into piloting or part-time EMT work. Hell, even fire inspector work.

Tommy could fly in his off time. He could save people in other ways.

There is only one baby. This one. Only her. He wants this. He really does.

And.

Tommy's not sure. He's not sure if Evan's exactly okay with that explanation. He isn't sure if Evan is okay with Tommy turning his life upside down for this small baby he met only a week ago. Hell, Tommy's not even sure if Evan is prepared for this; if he even wants this as much as Tommy; if he even wants this to begin with.

But.

But Evan looks at the baby.

And he looks at Tommy.

And there is something there; something there as Evan asked Tommy if he is really serious about this. If he is really sure that is what he wants to do. If this is the leap he wants to take.

And there is no reluctance.

There is no faltering.

Tommy says he does.

He wants this.

And.

Evan nods.

He looks between Tommy and this new baby that has become part of their lives.

And he says that they will figure this all out, then.

And maybe later, a year from that fateful night, Tommy and Evan are in their bed together as Evan confesses that he had been worried when they first decided to take in the baby.

He was worried about if they could do it. If it would be a bad idea for Tommy to reduce his hours like that. If Tommy would grow resentful of the change and how Evan was still a full-time firefighter. He was worried that whatever big beginning feelings Tommy had would wane and they would have this kid that Tommy had gotten from the spark of initial meetings alone.

Evan was worried that he wouldn't catch up to Tommy.

That he wouldn't connect with her like Tommy did. Because there was a connection, Evan saw it the moment Tommy walked into their home with the baby. And Evan hadn't quite had that at first. It took a little time for Evan to feel that connection and he felt a little guilty to admit that; a little ashamed.

But he loves her so much now.

And - and Evan sees how much happier Tommy is with her. Semi-retired and taking care of their girl.

He's happy that Tommy pushed for it; to have this baby in their lives. Evan can't imagine a world without her now.

And.

And Tommy is just happy.

I think about Tommy talking about how lonely he was before Evan. Friendly with everyone, good friends to no one. No family. No love life. Just him and his hobbies and his career.

A constant cycle of distraction, distraction, distraction.

And then.

The cruise incident.

And so much of Tommy's life changed. He had people he actually called friends. He had a support system in a way he never had before. He had that family he had been searching for his whole life.

And he found all of that with Evan.

This is Tommy's happiness. Friends. Loved ones. Family. And he found it with Evan. And he can barely believe he has this. Has Evan. Has their girl.

Sometimes, I think about that as one of the happiest endings Tommy could have. A lonely man who distracted himself with work and hobbies finding himself surrounded by family; choosing family.

I don't know.

I think about that sometimes.

[lenacosse]

In a world of boys, he’s a gentle man

pairings: Jake Peralta x female reader

warnings: Men being men. Angst with happy ending.

word count: 2.6k

summary: You’re having a hard time at work, things are stressing you out and you’re at a crossroad in your relationship with Jake but he’ll always fix his mistakes.

———————————————————————

The blaring of your obnoxious alarm fills your ears. Ripping you from your sleep for another day of work, another day of men undermining you, another day of unsolved crimes.

You reluctantly drag yourself out of your bed and get ready. To make matters worse you and your boyfriend Jake were fighting- you wanted him to move in but his fear of commitment made him laugh the topic off and diminish your feelings. You understood his issues, but it wasn’t fair. So you told him you needed space, and surprisingly he hasn’t contacted you yet. Not that you’re necessarily upset about that, you had mixed feelings.

You arrive to work at 9:12am. And there stands holt an eyebrow raised at you. You sigh and begin.

“I’m sorry sir. I got stuck in traffic.”

“So you’re the only one of my detectives late because of traffic, even though you live closest to the precinct.” Holt gives you a stern look and you just nod and walk into his office. He follows you in and shuts the door, you take a seat.

“I’m sorry captain. I don’t know what you expect me to say.”

“I appreciate the apology. But I’m worried about you (Y/L/N), you’re one of the finest detectives in the precinct yet you cannot unsolve simplest of cases?”

“I know. I just have a lot going on right now.”

“Well I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to take your cases and put you onto paperwork tasks. I understand it won’t help but it’s protocol.”

You just nod and exit his room, not looking where you’re going you walk right into Hitchcock who spills his coffee all over you. You take a long breath and look right at him. Violent outbursts weren’t your thing, but the stupidity of the situation is making it hard not to punch him in the face.

“Would you watch where you’re going!” You storm off into the women’s bathroom to dry your shirt off. A worried Amy follows you in.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” Amy asks, slowly moving towards you where you stand drying your coffee stained blouse.

You look at Amy and can’t help the tears that are filling your eyes. “I’m sorry i’m fine. It’s not big deal.”

Amy puts a hand on your arm, giving you a reassuring smile. “I know you’ve been stressed recently, and I’m sorry that your cases have been reassigned. But think of it as a break. Now you can have time to think.”

You nod and offer her a smile. Amy was undoubtedly your best friend, she had a way of understanding your feelings and you appreciated that more than you could explain.

“Thank you Ames. you’re amazing.” You and Amy share a hug before she leaves the bathroom. You dry your shirt by which time you’ve collected your thoughts. Allowing you to go back out there with a clear head and better intentions.

Walking back to your desk you get a few reluctant glances, you know it’s bad when people look at your like you’re Rosa. Half way through your first paper work task you get a short tap on your shoulder, you turn around to see Jake. He looks worn down, not as enthusiastic as usual. You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little bit bad, your aim was not to upset Jake when you said you wanted space, but to give yourself time to think. Which you haven’t even had a chance to do yet.

“I brought you a coffee.” Jake says, it was strange to see him so… calm? The main reason you agreed to go out with Jake was because he made you laugh. Because being with him was easy, you didn’t have to change yourself to be with him and that was all anyone could ask for. But the last few days he has been indifferent, you couldn’t help but blame yourself.

“Thank you.” You smile and take the coffee from his hands. Jake nods and starts to walk away, he glances back at you. Continues to walk, glances back again then walks back to you.

“Can.. we talk later? I know you want space but I hate this. I feel bad and it’s just..”

You cut him off with a sympathetic look. “Jake..” you begin, your tone flat.

“Yeah. sorry.” He walks away, this time not looking back.

You sigh and look to your left where Charles is sitting shaking his head and wiping his eyes. You furrow your brows at him and he takes that as an invite over. He walks over to your desk, his shoulders slumped.

“Can I help you Charles?”

“God. I’m so worried about you and jake. These last few days have been utter hell. I haven’t felt this helpless since Elenor and I divorced. I’m so upset I can’t even eat my stake tartare.”

“Maybe that’s for the best Charles, sounds absolutely disgusting.” You shake your head in disgust, “as for me and Jake we are grown adults and can sort it ourselves. Don’t stress.”

“That’s impossible! I’ll talk to Jake. I know how to solve the issue, a nurturing shower where he tenderly washes your hair with lavender shampoo.”

“Seriously?! Go back to your desk.” You shoo him away with your hand. Accepting defeat, sometimes you feel bad for dismissing Charles, but not today.

By lunch time you made a reasonable dent in your paperwork. You glance over to Jake, he’s doing paperwork too. But nothing is distracting him, not even the fact that captain Holt cracked a smile, at least someone’s in a good mood.

“Come on get your stuff we’re going to get lunch.” Rosa says standing in front of your desk with her arms crossed. Behind her is Gina.

“This doesn’t mean I care about you by the way girl. I need a break from my endless paperwork.”

You look over to Gina’s desk and roll your eyes, she had two files sitting there. “Wow I couldn’t imagine it. Is Amy coming?”

“It was her idea to bring you to lunch, then she got out her colour coordinated file of conflict resolution to help you lighten up. So I told her the wrong place, being around nerds is not what I need right now. Poor Amy sitting alone with nothing but her folder.” Gina shrugs.

You grab your jacket and go out with Gina and Rosa. You go to a cafe near the precinct, the cafe echoed with small talk and coffee pots brewing. It was peaceful compared to the loud precinct, the constant keyboard clicks and nonsense talk could of easily driven you mad.

“Damn I think you ruined Jake’s life, he’s a serious depresso these days.” Gina starts.

“I did not ruin his life. I needed space.”

“Why? Did his immaturity get the better of you?” Rosa questioned, you were slightly surprised at her input. Usually an outing with Rosa entails complete silence.

You sigh taking a sip of your drink. “I wanted us to move in together. He brushed it off saying there’s no need. So I told him I needed space from him and time to think, I feel bad sure but I don’t know what to do. It feels like he doesn’t love me enough to work through these issues.” You swallow back the lump in your throat.

“Mmkay well not to give you a compliment but Jake does love you.” Gina retorts. Rosa nods in agreement.

“You always try to get me to talk about my feelings, so take your own advice and go talk to him.” Rosa added.

“I don’t know what to say, we’ve been together for almost two years and it feels like we’re capped at the newly established relationship part.”

“I think that’s enough relationship talk. Who do you think we are, Amy Santiago? No.” Gina scoffed, as she did the food arrived. You sit with your friends eating lunch and listening to Gina talk about her upcoming dance competition and her love for Beyoncé.

———————————————————————

“Thanks for lunch.” You smile at Gina and Rosa as you sit back at your desk.

“Yeah whatever you’re welcome.” Rosa shrugs. You continue with your work, peacefully getting through your tasks with your mood peaking by the minute.

“(Y/N) can you give these files down to officer Smith?” Your sarge Terry asks, you get the files off his desk and get into the elevator to go downstairs.

It was no secret that the officers downstairs were dicks. They didn’t like you, especially officer Smith as you rejected him years ago. Ever since then he’s been making remarks about you attempting to piss you off, this has been applied to Jake as well because he is your boyfriend. Right after stepping out of the elevator you hear a wolf whistle coming from officer Smith. you roll your eyes and walk to his desk handing him the files.

“A present for me? You shouldn’t have.”

You ignore his words and explain the contents of the files, he doesn’t seem to be even paying attention but you didn’t care. That was until he piped up.

“How come you’re giving me files and not Gina?” You go to speak and he puts his finger to his mouth silencing you. “Don’t tell me the nine nine’s lousiest detective has been placed on desk duty.”

“It’s absolutely none of your business. But even so desk duty is much better than being stuck as a first rate officer for eight wasteful years.”

“Ah typical (Y/L/N) being a bitch when she gets her feelings hurt.”

“You’re pathetic. Don’t you get bored of being a dick?”

“You’re Goddamn insufferable. Just shut the fuck up and clear off.”

“Gladly. When you get off your ass for the first time today make sure to leave these files back.”

With that you walk away, but the cruel words that he shouted after had you clenching your fists and unwillingly crying in the elevator. That man knew how to get under your skin and you hated him with a burning passion. As you walk out of the elevator you wipe your eyes trying to mask the fact you’ve been embarrassingly crying. And once again you collide with someone. Their hands steady you by grabbing your shoulders. You sigh and look up, seeing Jake with a concerned look plastered on his face.

“Are you crying?”

“No.” You scoff as if you’re offended by the accusation.

“What happened?”

“Just Officer Smith being a dick.” You mumble.

His thumb lightly brushes a stray tear from your eye, you unwillingly melt into his touch, it’s warm and makes you feel safe.

“Whatever he said to you is irrelevant. He’s the biggest jerk ever. Don’t stoop down to his level and listen to what he has to say. You’re worth so much more than that.”

“Thank you Jake.” You run your thumb over his knuckles, a soft smile apparent on your face. Jake squeezed your hand three times, and you return the gesture. His face immediately brightens up, your eyes meet and you find yourself getting lost in his.

You hear a clearing of a throat, you look to your side seeing captain Holt stood with him arms crossed. You immediately drop Jake’s hand and he lets go of your shoulder. You both go back to your own desks. Today has made you realise talking to Jake is the best solution, it was only making you both miserable being apart. So you write him a note reading: ‘want to come over later?’ You throw it at him and it hits him in the head.

You watch his reaction to reading it. He scribbles something back on the page and throws it in your direction, but unluckily it hits Holt right in the face as he walks past your desk. You watch Jake’s eyes widen like a deer in headlights as he quickly looks down and pretends to be writing.

“Who on earth threw that?!” Holt rages. Everyone looks up from their desks yet no one takes accountability. Holt picks up the paper and reads it out. “Want to come over later? As long as we can watch die hard. (Ps. that shirt you’re wearing looks hot af)”

Your face turns a deep crimson as you look down at your desk, refusing eye contact. Everyone is quiet, mostly likely mentally scarred by the note. until Charles pipes up.

“WOOHOO!” He yells. “my dream couple are back. Did take my advice Jakey?”

“No Charles. I did not spoon feed her duck soup!”

“Gosh it’s a miracle things worked out.” Charles replied. You look over to Amy who looks just as disgusted as you from Charles’ statement.

“You two my office. Now.” Holt says whilst walking back to his office.

Jake follows behind you into Holt’s office, you both take a seat as does Holt. He does not look happy, or so you assume. He was difficult to read.

“Today started wonderfully. Everyone had work done. I even cracked a smile.” Holt starts. “However you two acting like teenagers is ridiculous! Throwing notes to each other like you’re in middle school?”

“(Y/L/N) started it.” Jake shakes his head in dismay. “She’s such a child.”

“Shut up Peralta.” You smack his arm, making him pull a classic face at you. You roll your eyes and cross you arms looking back at your captain.

“If you two can’t act mature then I’ll have to come up with a plan to keep you apart.”

You both mutter a sorry and he dismisses you. Of course the second you step out of his office you look at Jake and the both of you burst out laughing.

“What did I just say!” Holt shouts out, you both stop laughing and immediately go back to your desks.

———————————————————————

Your door knocked and you went to answer it. standing there is Jake with flowers, a tiny teddy bear and a bag full of snacks. You smile and let him in, letting him know the pizza is on its way.

“For you my lady.” Jake says in a God awful posh accent. You take the flowers and other things from him. You find yourself blushing at the thought of him buying you these things.

“Well aren’t you just a gentleman.” You kiss his cheek, he takes your chin in his hand and moves your face to look at him. Your foreheads touch and he leans in to kiss you, the kiss is tender and loving. You run your free hand through his hair and slowly pull back.

“I’m sorry for not taking things seriously.”

“It’s okay.”

“No I was being an idiot. I love what we have, and of course I want to move in with you. But that freaked me out and I was unfair. I want you to know that I would do anything for you. I want this for us, I want to come home with you every night, I want to wake up next to you every morning. I’m serious about you, I should have just told you that from the start. but I messed things up and to think that I almost ruined us-“

You shut him up by kissing him, you feel his smile against your lips. His hands go to your hips pulling you closer. You slowly pull away and he pulls you into a hug. The scent his cologne fades all the worries and doubts, it was simple. Jake was the only possible person you ever wanted to be with, and things would work out because you both were dedicated to making it work.

“Thank you.” You slowly pull back and stroke his cheek with your thumb.

“Okay I’m glad that worked out because I already sold my apartment.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course you did.” You tease.

The pizza arrives and the two of you lay on your couch together, eating pizza and watching die hard for the thousandth time. At this point you swear you could recite the script. But if it makes Jake happy then it makes you happy.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[seungkw1]

sketchbook — xmh

♡ pairing: xu minghao x gn!reader ♡ theme: best friends to lovers, college au, fluff ♡ wc: 3.1k ♡ warnings: none

“why did i sign up for this stupid class?”

you mumbled it under your breath, but your best friend still heard it from across the room. he looks up from the book he’s reading, a concerned frown on his face.

“what’s wrong with the class?” he closes his book, his eyes resting on yours.

“the class is fine it’s just… i’m just bad at it.”

“i highly doubt that.” he gets up, joining you at your kitchen table currently cluttered with textbooks, homework, and various drawing materials. he reaches for your sketchpad. “let me see.”

“nuh-uh,” you say, closing the book. he grabs it from you anyway.

“minghao! come on,” you shout at him. he ignores you, flipping through the pages.

“most of those are shitty reject drawings that i started and gave up on, nobody needs to see those.”

he continues perusing through the book quickly, but pauses at a particular page. you take the chance and reach for the sketchpad again, grabbing hold of it.

“wait! i like this one.”

you glance at the drawing he’s looking at. it’s the side profile of a classmate, drawn as a warm-up exercise.

“what? that was just a warm-up sketch, and it’s not even good. it looks nothing like the girl i was drawing.”

minghao looks up at you. “that doesn’t mean it’s bad. art isn’t necessarily about drawing things exactly the way they look, it’s about your interpretation of the subject. that’s like the whole point.”

“i wasn’t interpreting anything here, i was literally just trying to draw her face.”

“but look,” he says, turning the book so you can see it. “look at the way she’s looking into the distance. she looks sad, but in a nostalgic way.”

you stare at the sketch. “i don’t see it.”

“but that’s part of it too - art isn’t always about knowing the exact meaning of the piece, it’s also open to interpretation on the viewer’s perspective. and i like the way you portrayed her emotion.” 

you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re just making that up to make me feel better.”

“i’m not! i promise. i really like your art style, y/n.”

you want to roll your eyes at him, but he looks too sincere. “okay but how can i have an art style if i literally started drawing two weeks ago at the start of the semester? i don’t even know what i’m doing.”

“look at all your drawings though,” he flips the pages one at a time. “you press really hard when you draw, so it gives everything a very bold, sharp look. and combined with the way you shade, it gives it a dramatic edge.”

you look at your sketches again. they’re still unsightly in your eyes, but you do kind of see what he means.

“well, that’s good to know i guess. but it’s still hard,” you mope. “i thought this would be an easy elective to get an A in but now i’m worried.”

“it’s an intro class - i’m sure the professor isn’t expecting you to be picasso on day one. just keep practicing and you’ll be perfectly fine.”

one of the many things you love about minghao: he always knows how to make you feel reassured. 

“you’re probably right,” you reply. “i don’t know what i should draw for practice, though.”

“well, what do you want to improve the most?”

you think for a second. “our next project is a life drawing, but drawing people is so hard. so maybe that but what am i supposed to do, just draw random people?”

“sure, why not?”

“because that’s weird!”

“okay, well it doesn’t have to be a random person. here, try drawing me.”

“you?? right now?”

“yeah.”

you open your mouth to protest, but you pause, realizing it might not be a bad idea. 

you shrug as you reach for your pencils. “okay, i guess. you can't get mad when it turns out terrible though.”

minghao smiles softly. he situates himself in the chair, focusing his gaze off in the distance. you pick up your sketchbook, holding it at a comfortable angle as you hold your pencil above the page. you think for a minute - you never know where to start when you have to draw a face. you glance back up at minghao, skimming across his features - naturally, you land on his eyes. you always forget how pretty they are: dark brown, soft, calm - giving him a permanent aura of being deep in thought. 

you look back down at the blank page, it's emptiness seemingly taunting you. with a sigh you touch the dulled lead tip to the paper, making your first stroke -  the curvature of minghao’s eyelid appearing on the page. you peep back up at your subject. to your surprise, your shape isn't too far off from reality. you continue, sketching his lower eyelid, his iris, his long dark eyelashes. you erase your marks a few times when they don't look quite right, but before long the image of an eye that looks mostly like minghao’s has formed. 

you move to his nose, drawing the line of its sharp bridge, sketching a circle to render its round, button-shaped end - bringing the shape of his face to life. you peer up at his face, your pencil continuing its strokes, but you pause as you arrive at his lips. they are soft, plump, perfectly formed, highly kissable. you sketch the delicate curves, emphasizing their pillowy nature. you find yourself absentmindedly in a trance when you realize you’ve been staring at him for too long - you’ve already finished drawing his mouth. you feel your cheeks turn warm, praying he can’t see you getting flustered out of the corner of his eye. 

you move on, sketching his soft but strong jawline, his ears - adorned with his usual jewelry, adding quick wispy lines to form the shape of his long hair. before long the essence of minghao has materialized in your notebook.

as you finish, you hold your sketchpad up to compare your drawing to your subject. you don’t love it, and it’s nowhere near perfect. but it is decidedly good enough.

“okay, i’m done, i guess.” you set the notebook down, hesitantly sliding it across the table toward minghao. he picks it up, turning it to face him as he looks at it for the first time. the edges of his mouth twitch upward into a subtle smile, but he doesn’t say anything.

“you hate it.”

minghao looks up at you. “what? no, i love it.” he looks back at the paper with a pleased grin. “i’m telling you, you’re really good at portraying emotion.”

“and what emotion exactly did i portray?”

he shows you your drawing. “i look wistful - like i’m caught in a daydream of unrequieted love.”

you feel your stomach do a flip, but you play it cool, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes at him. “well, i didn’t do that on purpose. but i’m glad you like it.” you extend your hand to take back the notebook, but he turns it toward him again, taking another look. 

“can i keep it?” he looks up at you, his striking brown eyes making contact with yours. you stifle a gulp as you reply.

“um… sure, i guess so. if you really want it.”

he gives you a soft smile, pleased at your response. “i really do.” he carefully tears the page along the perforation, separating it from its spiral binding. he closes the sketchbook and hands it back to you. you return it to its place in your backpack.

“well, thanks for letting me practice on you, i appreciate it.”

“of course. if you need any more practice let me know - since i see you most days anyway.”

“you’re the best.”

“i know,” he replies smugly. you pick up your eraser and lob it at him. he manages to catch it with one hand, giving you a sly look as you jump out of your chair, running from him before he can throw it back. he follows you, chasing you around your apartment - you shout at him, feigning anger, but your laughter gives you away. 

another thing you love about minghao: being with him is always so easy.

—

you didn’t mean to make drawing minghao a regular occurrence. but on one particularly crisp fall day, you find yourself absentmindedly sketching his features as you eat lunch together in the park. he’s reading for his literature class, and you’re supposed to be studying for your sociology course, but you keep zoning out. it’s not your fault that the text is dull, and that the cherub-like rosiness coloring his cheeks makes him look more ethereal than usual. renaissance paintings of angels have nothing on how beautiful he looks right now, you think to yourself. 

you also definitely didn’t mean to start falling for your best friend, but here you are.

delicate pencil strokes paint the wisps of his bangs falling over his eyes as he is studiously engrossed in his book, his long eyelashes peeking through the curtain of hair. you focus on perfecting the shape of his face - glancing up to compare your rendering to your subject - when you notice him looking back at you.

“what are you doing?” he asks, genuinely curious.

you’re about to shut your notebook in a panic, when you realize that would only look more suspicious. 

“nothing, just…”

he reaches for your notebook, his fingers brushing over the top of the page as he tilts it down so he can see. he lets out a soft chuckle.

“practicing again, i see,” he says, casually, but clearly teasing you a little. “i thought you were supposed to be studying for your sociology exam.”

“i am,” you insist. he raises his eyebrow at you. “i was just taking a break,” you add. the look on his face tells you he’s not convinced, but he doesn’t press you further.

“it looks good, i can tell you’re getting better at drawing from a reference.”

“i guess it is getting a little easier,” you admit. 

minghao smiles. “good,” he affirms, before going back to his text without another word. 

you find yourself gazing dreamily at the man before you, lost in aimless thoughts, imagining the feel of his hair tangled around your fingers, his skin softly pressed against your cheeks, his lips brushing against yours. eventually he notices, peeking up at you through his bangs. you swiftly return to your drawing, only to realize you've already finished. his portrait looks slightly cartoonish, and nowhere nearly as beautiful as the real thing, but you decide it's not half bad. 

you half-heartedly resume your studies, sneaking glances at minghao here and there. every glimpse makes your heart flutter - you feel like an idiot, you're in college for christ's sake, and here you are having an entire crush on your closest friend. 

just tell him how you feel, part of your mind tries to convince you. 

but what if it ruins our friendship? another part of you worries. 

you realize you're staring at him again when he looks up from his book, his gaze meeting yours. 

“hmm? what is it?” he asks you calmly. 

“i…” 

you hesitate. his eyes rest on your face attentively.

you let out a small sigh. “i’m getting cold. can we go inside?”

he smiles softly, marking his page as he closes his book. “of course.”

minghao walks you to your next class, which is conveniently located in the building next to his next class. 

“well, see ya later,” you tell him as you turn to enter the building. 

“y/n…”

you freeze as he grabs your arm. you turn back around, looking at him expectantly. he lifts his hand up to your head, tenderly reaching for your hair. you realize you're holding your breath. you exhale as his fingers graze your scalp softly, plucking something off of your head. 

he holds a small yellow piece up to you. “you had a leaf in your hair.” 

your panicking ceases, leaving you a bit disappointed, but you can't help but smile at him.

“thanks, minghao. what would i do without you?”

“walk around with leaves in your hair all day, probably.”

you playfully give him a light shove. he reaches for the door, opening it for you as you head off to class. 

“i'm coming over tonight, if that's alright,” he says as you step through the doorway. 

“of course,” you say, turning over your shoulder to face him. “though, i should probably start charging you rent as much as you're at my place.”

he smiles back at you. “see you later, y/n.”

he disappears as the door shuts quickly. you spend the rest of the afternoon in a daydream, impatiently counting the hours until you see him again. 

—

“how’s the studying going?” minghao asks from the other end of the couch. he sets his book down, pausing so he can take his hoodie off. his plain black t-shirt rises up as he does, revealing his entire midriff. you try not to gawk too hard. he stares at you as he tosses the hoodie aside - you realize he is awaiting your response. 

you look down at your notebook, where you’ve once again been sketching his face. “um… pretty good,” you lie. “are you hungry?” you ask, changing the subject.

“starving, actually,” he admits.

“well, i can offer you ramen, or… actually, that’s about it.”

he grins at you. “ramen sounds great. want me to make some-”

“nope,” you respond as you flip your notebook over, setting it face down on the seat next to you. “i got it.” you rise and head to the kitchen. 

you cook the noodles, serving them into two bowls and carrying them back to the living room. you set the bowls on the coffee table, reaching over to set one in front of minghao - but you feel your leg bump against something. you look down to see your notebook fall to the floor - landing right side up. before you can grab it, minghao has already picked it up for you. he goes to hand it back to you, but pauses as he sees your sketches. you go to swipe it out of his hands, but miss as he pulls back, looking at his own face doodled on your pages.

“you were drawing me again.” it wasn’t a question.

you try to quickly think of some excuse, anything, to get you out of this one, but your mind comes up blank. you decide to try and play it off.

“yes,” you reply with feigned confidence as you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, then back down to the paper. you stare at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he says nothing.

“i like to practice whenever i can,” you add with a shrug.

he flips through your notebook. “whenever you can, or whenever you’re with me?”

“um… i-”

“because these all sure look like me, y/n.”

“so?” you ask him. you meant for your tone to be casual, but it came out a bit more defensive than intended.

his eyes meet yours again. he looks at you warmly, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. your heart beats rapidly in your chest. 

“so,” he answers as he sets the notebook aside. “i'm wondering, if…” he scoots closer to you, lifting his hand to your face, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb. your skin feels like it's on fire. his fingers tucked under your chin delicately, he draws your face in toward his. you gasp softly. 

“if you feel the same way about me, as i feel about you.”

your heart is racing. you feel dizzy. he's so close to you, a few more inches and your noses would touch. his plump lips wait enticingly. 

“and how do you feel about me?” you manage to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. his deep brown eyes stare longingly into yours. you’re pretty sure you know the answer, you hope you know the answer, but you need him to confirm it. 

suddenly, he kisses you. 

he kisses you, setting alight fireworks inside you. his soft lips touch against yours ever so gently, his nose pressing against your cheek, his hand holding your face tenderly in his palm, then sliding to the back of your neck, drawing you closer still into him. your chest presses against his, his other arm wrapping around your waist, his large hand settling upon the small of your back. you kiss him back, your lips locked onto his like your life depends on it. you've thought of this, dreamt of this, so many times before, all the years you've known minghao - yet you never could have imagined how thrilling, exhilarating, freeing it would be to finally be here, in his arms, world stopped, nothing matters except you and him, so lovingly embraced - together. 

electricity pulsates through your skin, every nerve in your body dancing. slowly, minghao’s lips part from yours. you lock eyes with him - in all the time you've known him, he's always been a sentimental person, but you've never seen such love and adoration beaming from him like you see now. 

and it's all for you. 

a giggle escapes you. minghao looks at you, a wide grin spreading across his face. you run your hands through his hair, a sensation you've waited so long to experience - it's every bit as delightful as you imagined. 

“hao…” you start.

he plants another kiss on your lips. “hmm?” he asks, still glowing at you. 

“how long have you felt this way?” you ask softly. 

“i've had feelings for you since the day we met, and i've loved you more every day since.” 

you boop your nose against his, giving him a fake stern look. 

“and why didn't you tell me?”

he feigns a pouty face back at you. “why didn't you tell me?”

you blow a tiny raspberry at him. he smiles, pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he kisses your cheek repeatedly. you laugh, held in his warm embrace, overflowing with emotions. 

finally, you can admit it: you're in love with your best friend - and he just so happens to love you back. 

[linkspooky]

GOOD SIBLING, BAD SIBLING: THE FIRE SIBLINGS VS. STARFIRE AND BLACKFIRE

What could two siblings born in a royal family where one is scapegoated and the other treated like a golden child possibly have in common? More than you think.

This post is making the rounds again and I thought it would be fun to make a longer post going into depth why I think Starfire and Blackfire avert the common trope of good sibling bad sibling, by comparing it to something that fails to avoid that trope. If you like doomed siblings or bad victims then click the readmore.

Good Sibling, Bad Sibling

To start off with I'm going to explain what I mean when I use the words Good Sibling, Bad Sibling. It's a trope that's an extention of what I call Good Victim, Bad Victim. It's when a story compares two victims of abuse, and one victim is a more acceptable victim while the other is a bad victim because they're not perfect suffering Cinderellas.

Victims of course still have agency in their responses, they're still culpable if their actions go on to hurt someone, they don't have a right to hurt others, but I think it's also true most people are quick to judge victims for not being strong enough to endure abuse when they haven't been in the same situation.

It's easy from an outsider's perspective to be "I wouldn't do that". It comes from a pretty shallow view that villainizes abusers and renders them as inhuman monsters when the truth is all abusers are still humans and anyone can fall into patterns of abuse whether they mean to or not.

One reason I hate this trope besides like, the fact characters that aren't perfect victims are often considered "too far gone" and murdered by the narrative, it's also just really shallow. In the end it usually comes down to the victim getting love and support healing and the victim who didn't have support getting worse. Which is like, a no duh of a situation. A person without friends or a support system or love in their life tends to not get better? Who woulda guessed.

Good Sibling, Bad Sibling shows up when two siblings are raised under the same house, sometimes even in the same abusive circumstances and one is a hero and the other is a villain. Another version of this tropes is the fact that if there are twins one of them is usually going to be a good twin and the other is an evil twin.

I can understand where this trope comes from because like siblings are a naturally close relationship, so it makes it a deeply personal conflict when a character's sibling turns against them. I don't even think it's a necessarily bad trope, if both characters are humanized equally which almost never happens.

Examples of this trope: Gammorra and Nebula, Mai and Maki, Shoto and Toya, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd, Itachi and Sasuke.

And of course, Starfire and Blackfire, and Zuko and Azula.

My goal is to show by breaking the source material, New Teen Titans and the Avatar Cartoon down the former averts the trope and the latter plays it straight.

The Golden Child and the Scapegoat

A common trope used in dysfuctional families is dividing children between a golden child, and a scapegoat. The parent often projects all of their positive qualities on a golden child, along with high expectations. While the Scapegoat has all their negative qualities projected on them, and is often blamed unfairly for the dysfunction in the house. They are scapegoated so to speak, and constantly the victim of things like shifting goalposts.

It's like a more extreme version of playing favorites with an extra dollop of abuse on top. Also to be clear, this is an abusive dynamic where both sides are abused. They're not being seen as parents by their parents, and they are essentially being pitted against each other. There are plenty of parents who will be just as harsh on their perceived favorite. Being the golden child doesn't really safeguard you from abuse, even if it seems to be the more favorable position to be in.

Also in general when discussing abuse, arguing over who has it worse is kind of a pointless argument.

Also sometimes the playing favorites is intentional. By splitting up siblings and putting them against each other, the parent gets more control over each of them like a divide and conquer strategy. After all an abusers primary objective is to maintain control over someone by patterns of abusive behavior meant to wear down their sense of resistance.

With that being established, comparing the two royal families is interesting because the "hero" sibling is the golden child in one version, and the "villain" sibling is the scapegoat in another. If anything this proves that both forms of abuse can be the reason for a villain's tragic backstory.

STARFIRE AND AZULA THE PERFECT PRINCESS

Starfire might appear at first to be the total opposite of Azula. One of them is a hero who's like entire character is built around her overflowing emotions and the love she feels for people. While Azula is cold, calculating, and often treats her own friends like pawns instead of people. Starfire also doesn't repeat the cycle of abuse, while Azula does.

If you look past that there's a lot of comparisons to draw between the two of them. They are both raised in warrior, war-like cultures. The Tamaraneans may be all about that peace and love but like, an early conflict with Starfire's is that because she was raised on a planet as a warrior she doesn't understand why other heroes have a no-kill rule.

Azula is also a product of her culture. To begin with she's raised as a child soldier, of a nationalist and imperialist nation who are actively colonizing half the war. Azula also contributes significantly to the war effort, and never shows any doubt to the values of her culture.

As a brief summary of their early characters, Azula is princess of the fire nation which went to war with the world. She's the daughter of the Fire Nation's absolute ruler. She's however, the second born and not ever expected to inherit the throne. She is introduced in season one when Zuko vents to an unconscious Aang about how everything has always been easy for his sister. In Season two she becomes the main antagonist, first tasked with retrieving her brother, and then decides to try to capture the avatar on her own. I'd also be remiss to mention that Azula is the most personal antagonist the heroes face, because Ozai is more of a final boss. Starfire is an alien that was sold by her sister into slavery essentially (Blackfire is not a good person). She escaped to earth and became a member of the Teen Titans where she found a new family and worked as a hero. She's basically an immigrant to earth and there's a lot of culture shock. Starfire eventually returns home to her planet when it's in danger, and faces her sister as an antagonist.

This is another way in which they differ, Azula is the primary antagonist and negative foil to Zuko, and Blackfire is the primary antagonist and negative foil to Starfire.

While both basically have the tentative position of the favorite, while their sibling is demonized, it's made clear to them that they're not actually "safe" with their parents. Both sets of parents are awful and the origin of all abuse within the household. These characters also receive a slap in the face after being in denial for a long time that these parents will even mistreat their "favorite" child and treat them like an object.

Though, I would argue that Starfire is more in denial about her parent's abuse and will still see them as loving parents, while Azula is aware that her father could turn on her and strives for perfection to keep herself "safe".

Note Starfire is still saying this stuff after her parent's sold her into a political marriage.

Ozai: My decision is final. Azula: You ... you can't treat me like this! You can't treat me like Zuko! Ozai: Azula, silence yourself. Azula: But it was my idea to burn everything to the ground! I deserve to be by your side!

I've seen some people's unsympathetic readings of this line that Azula throws Zuko under the bus, but like... Azula doesn't want to be abused like her brother. What a monster. Let's see how you react when the father you thought was safe turns on you, I think most people would say or do anything not to get hurt.

I don't want to sound too critical of Starfire because she has her reasons (Blackfire abused her severely) but both Starfire and Azula seem to justify their parent's abuse to themselves by saying Blackfire or Zuko did something to cause the abuse. Sliding the blame from the abuser to the abuse victim. They participate in the parent's scapegoating of the the least favorite child.

I'd like to point out though that the ultimate cause of the situation is the parents themselves. The abuse started when they are children, and expecting Starfire and Azula as children to like, go out of their way to protect their abused siblings is expecting a lot out of them.

Like Azula is afraid to lose her position as the favorite because Ozai has demonstrated before that he'll horribly mutilate his children. Who would have guessed. Blackfire severely abused Starfire in their childhood, so she sees Blackfire as her enemy and not her parents who would have guessed.

In general too, expecting Starfire and Azula to be perfect siblings in an abusive household, and always protect their siblings, is once again a lot to expect from literal children who don't have fully developed brains.

However, I would say in both cases, they both try harder to connect with their sibling. This is where I get angry anons in my inbox, yes I'm going to make the argument that Azula was a better sibling than Zuko was to her. No I also don't expect Zuko to be a perfect big brother when actively being abused by Ozai. No I don't think Zuko owes Azula anything because she too prioritized her own well being over him that's what abuse victims do.

I'm just making the argument with in text examples that Azula does more things to help Zuko, and Starfire actively tried to befriend Blackfire before the sibling abuse started. In fact I think that's what makes both relationships incredibly tragic. It's not really two siblings who love each other on opposite sides of a conflict. It's that Blackfire and Zuko can't see past their own abuse, and can't love their siblings.

Once again I'm not blaming Zuko for priotizing himself, but I also think it's unfair to critcize Azula for taking care of herself and not sticking her neck out for Zuko when they were both being abused. Wow why are people extra harsh on Azula and extra forgiving on Zuko. It's almost like women are always expected to be perfect nurturers, and when they're not allowed to be complex human beings with flaws. My old enemy the Madonna Whore complex you strike again!

Anyway onto the examples. The big one is that Azula invited Zuko back after Ba Sing Se, seemed genuine about wanting to help resstore his honor. This is also a sacrifice on her part, because as I said even when he was banished Zuko didn't lose the title of crown prince. His status as the heir was never in question and like, letting Zuko stay a prisoner in Ba Sing Se would have ensured his inheritance would fall to her.

Why don't you let him decide, Uncle? [To Zuko.] I need you, Zuko. I've plotted every move of this day, [Makes a fist.] this glorious day in Fire Nation history, and the only way we win is together. At the end of this day, you will have your honor back. You will have Father's love. You will have everything you want.

Now common criticisms people use to argue that Azula has good intentions.

1) Azula needed Zuko to turn the tides in battle. While Azula was kind of in a corner in the fight where Zuko turned she also had Mai and Ty Lee and the entire Dai Li on her side so I don't think she'd really assume she needed Zuko to defeat the avatar. Also she starts getting backed into a corner long after she made the offer to Zuko so she had no way of knowing that ahead of time. Also, also, she might have just been backed into a corner for the sake of drama, making it more impactful when Zuko shows up and turns the tide.

2) Azula somehow knew she might not kill the avatar and needed Zuko to take the fall. This one doesn't make sense because Azula doesn't have any idea that Aang didn't die, until Zuko hints at it. After that point, Zuko kept it a secret from her and refused to tell her even though the truth being revealed would impact both of them. Like for Azula to know ahead of time she'd fail to kill the avatar when she made her offer to Zuko, and then bring him back to take the fall would require some 4d chess on her end.

Two more examples are Azula goes out of her way to warn Zuko that he might get in trouble for visint Iroh so often. On the Beach she's the one who comforts him and retrieves him from their old vacation house. When they're in front of the fire and Zuko is troubled she asks him what's wrong and even asks if she's the one at fault. Whereas Zuko mocks her for not having problems when Azula confesses her mother thought she was a monster he doesn't say anything in response.

In Tales of the New Teen Titans we get a closer look at Starfire and Blackfire's childhood, and we're shown Starfire tried hard at first to get along with her sister. Starfire also, in spite of being a victim of Blackfire's abuse went out of her way to save her life twice.

Something Blackfire responded with by immediately trying to kill her. Blackfire, you are a piece of work. In both cases, I'd argue Starfire and Azula try at least to have a positive relationship with their siblings. Attempts that are almost completely one-sided. I don't want to demonize Zuko too much though, because as I said when you're actively being abused it's number one easy to see the other sibling as being better off, and only natural you would prioritize yourself.

Also, Blackfire was an adult and continued the abuse later on in life when she had more agency, whereas Zuko for most of the tv show was a minor and you shouldn't hold minors to adult standards. If I judge characters for having an imperfect reaction to abuse, or not being perfect siblings I can no longer call myself a bad victim enjoyer.

Both Starefire and Azula as I said, participate in the scapegoating. In both cases it's out of a desire to maintain their spot as the golden child, because they want to assume they're safe.

Starfire actively defends her aprents all the time, while insisting that Blackfire was evil to begin with. Which is understandable again because Blackfire's abuse is just so much worse than anything Azula does to Zuko. It's expecting a little too much for Starfire to see the humanity in her abuser when she's a lifelong victim.

Like little blackfire things: Killing her sister's pet.

Phsyical abuse, actively trying to kill her even before they were on opposite sides of a war.

Selling her into Slavery (where Starfire was sexually abused).

It's extra tragic because both are essentially blaming the other for their parent's abuse. Blackfire takes out her pain on Starfire as revenge for her parent's favoritism, even though it's not her fault. Starfire demonizes Blackfire because she refuses to confront the fact that her parent's are abusive.

This is behavior Azula engages in as well. If you read into her actions, you can tell she blames Zuko for his abuse, you can't treat me like Zuko, while also believing that if she can just make Zuko act more like a prince he won't provoke his father anymore. Once again, sliding the blame on the abused rather than the abuser makes Azula feel more safe, because she also believes if she's perfect Ozai will leave her alone.

Zuko and Blackfire: The Banished Prince and the DIsowned Princess

This is another pair of seeming opposites. Blackfire is essentially Starfire's most personal arch enemy, occupying the same spot as Azula. Zuko is a villain for awhile, but honestly he's bad at it, and until the end of Season 1 he's so ineffectual he's more comic relief. Blackfire like Azula is insanely competent and causes a lot of genuine harm to the protagonists, and is far far worse than Zuko or even Azula obviously. I mean I've already listed some of the things she did above, but she also let her planet be conquered by aliens, orchestrated not one but two cues, and tried to have her parents blown up on live television.

However, both characters are effectively disowned and banished from their country for their inability to fit in. Both are banished and excessively punished.

Blackfire is the first born princess of Tamaran and she should have been heir to her family, but she was stripped of her inheritance because she was born disabled. Every Tamaranean can fly except her because of a sickness that nearly killed her when she was younger.

That's right everyone, the disabled representation you've been waiting for the sibling abuser and war-mongerer.

I think Blackfire's abuse covers a common way parent's treat their disabled children, where they don't want to make accomodations and make it clear they' don't want to take care of a disabled child and spend all their attention on their abled children instead. This trope is often called "Better dead than disabled."

Also I'd be remiss to point out that Tamaraneas have access to hover technology so Blackfire's disability doesn't inhibit her in any way. Like damn, parents will do anything but try to accomondate their disabled child.

Zuko is punished needlessly for a small offense of speaking out of turn in a meeting for not wanting to sacrifice young soldiers, and then refusing to fight back against his father in an angi kai. At which point he's banished and sent on a fool's errand of hunting the avatar.

Blackfire's reason for being banished is uhhh, because she tried to kill her sister in combat training, but also she was stripped of her inheritance just before being born disabled. She awas punished for things she couldn't control before she did anything wrong.

Both siblings also try to make up for their trauma and perceived deficiencies by constantly projecting violence. Blackfire is like, obsesed with war, Zuko's definition of honor is more focused around glory gained by combat more particularly killing the avatar in the first season. Both of them actively participated in colonization, Blackfire helped colonize her home planet, Zuko burned Kyoshi village and helped Azula with Ba Sing Se. Blackfire brought back an army to colonize her home planet, then attempts a military coup of a rather peaceful reign her parents secured not once but twice.

Both are blamed for their parent's abuse, it's Blackfire's fault because she was a violent and unlikable child she made it impossible to love her. It's Zuko's fault, he just didn't try hard enough to please his father and fit in as a prince.

While I may sound overly critical of Avatar's writing I do like how they gave Zukio a lot of chances to make mistakes and screw up, and instead of condemning him or dismissing him as too far gone they kept reinforcing that he always had a chance to better himself.

Both characters are really jealous and tend to blame the other sibling who's treated as the favorite for their abuse.

Zuko: "You're like my sister. Everything always came easy to her. She is a firebending prodigy and everyone adores her. My father says she was born lucky. He says I was lucky to be born... I don't need luck though - I don't want it. I've always had to struggle and fight and that's made me strong. It's made me who I am".

Though to give credit to Blackfire, while as a child she blamed Starfire for everything and used her as a punching bag, as an adult she seems to understand that the cause of their conflict was their parents and in fact tries to explain this to Starfire multiple times. So she's matured enough to see that Starfire is ultimately a victim too.

As I said too, Zuko is a child, he's also like still actively being victimized by Ozai while at the same time under the notion that if he does the right thing he can earn Ozai's love for 3/4ths of the show it's easy to understand why he'd blame Azula for his position as the scapegoat instead of Ozai.

Zuko never attempts to convince Azula to change sides with him, or considers that an option. When Azula is like, falling through the air about to die he doesn't tell his friends piloting the bison to try to save her. His stated goal when fighting Azula in the fignal agni kai is to put her in her place. That's literally a line he says.

Zuko, the empath when noticing she's having a total mental breakdown says "She's kind of off" and decides to take advantage of that to win the fight. When Azula finally breaks down and is screaming and crying, he just kind of sits there looking bored.

I'm not arguing that Zuko owes her anything that's a personal opinion, just that it's inconsistent with Zuko's writing. Zuko is presented to us as a character revolving around redemption, that learns that love and forgiveness are key to growth and healing and then just... doesn't apply those same lessons he learned to his sister.

That same kind of hypocrisy is present in Starfire, but it's like intentional. Starfire's inability to empathize with her sister, when her entire character revolves around empathy and love shows just how damaged her relationship with her sister is. Even then Starfire like, saves her life twice and was never able to kill her. With far more reason to not empathize with her sister, while blatantly hating her, Starfire still has that tiny bit of empathy for her. It's also like, Tamaraneans are a violent warrior people, and they're also extremely emotional and full of love, Starfire embodies both sides of that.

It's not just Blackfire either, it takes Starfire a long time to learn that she can't just kill criminals (again understandable, a cultural thing, in fact people like Dick are a little bit too harsh on her for this instead of trying to explain and understand where she's coming from). It is consistent with Starfire's writing, she is openly loving, but she's not the team mom that's Donna.

Zuko like, not even trying to redeem Azula or just like, not really caring is inconsistent with the writing that's trying to tell us that deep down Zuko is a caring person that is going to help heal the fire nation by showing them a better path forward. Zuko's double standards towards his sister, and his unfairly blaming her for his father's abuse is not written as a flaw. Blackfire unfairy blaming Starfire for her parent's abuse is a flaw. Blackfire's abuse of Starfire is her own fault, which is something she continues to do well into adulthood.

Which is why it's kind of all the more baffling, that Blackfire is way worse, is humanized a lot more by her narrative than Azula is. Now we reach the final part.

The Final Agni Kai

Now to trash on everyone's favorite scene that I absolutely despise as the end to Zuko and Azula's arc, while praising what is my favorite arc in the whole New Teen Titans manga. In the series finale of Avatar, Zuko after reuniting with Iroh is tasked with challenging Azula for the throne in the Agni Kai. They fight, and Zuko comes out on top.

In what is essentially the final fight between Starfire and Blackfire, Starfire is alerted by her brother that things are going down on her planet. She leaves earth with the Teen Titans and returns to her planet for a second time. Where she learns that she is being sold by her parents into an arranged marriage, as a part of a peace agreement with the invading force of her planet. Something that Starfire does not take well too, because she's currently in love with her longtime boyfriend Dick Grayson.

I'm going to skip over the Soap opera that is Starfire and Dick, because it's soon revealed that Blackfire too has returned in order to orchestrate a coup to overthrow her parents once more.

In the end Blackfire reveals her plan that she's set up an ion bomb to hold the whole planet hostage unless her parents abdicate and declare her ruler. At which point, Blackfire succeeds.

Both plots involve the scapegoat finally reclaiming their heritage and beating their sibling for the first time, one is the hero, the other is the villain... or are they?

There's a reason I love one arc and hate the other. It's that Blackfire is eventually allowed to be her own seperate character from Starfire, whereas Azula is ultimately just a plot object to strengthen Zuko's arc. This is shown in just, the amount of focus Zuko and his inner world are compared to Azula, how he has one of the most lovingly tailored redemption arcs shown throughout the entire show whereas Azula's mental breakdown is rushed through the entire end.

However, to further illustrate this let me show how well the New Teen Titans humanizes Koriand'r. To begin with, we see their childhood from both perspectives, to show both are biased narrators. Starfire represents her sister as being born evil, while Blackfire believes Starfire being the favorite took all her parent's love away from her.

Blackfire also gets, sympathetic motivations that demonstrate she's also capable of love and craves it deep down but suppresses it because she believes she needs to be a weapon of war. Something that is directly stated by the comics and only like implied by offhand by the avatar show.

In fact Blackfire gets to star in her own comic which tells a story where she is temporarily blinded after her first defeat to Starfire. After feeling helpess she feels like she's lost the will to fight, the will to kill, the will to rule which is how she defines herself.

Blackfire survives with one of her soldiers who doesn't abandon her, and helps teach with her rehabilitation teaching her how to fight while blind. Their relationship grows so close that Dorion feels like the first person that ever took care of Blackfire, and she breaks down and admits how much she wants to be loved. She almost seems willing to give up her conquest.

However, Blackfire misses out on the chance to be loved because her fanatically devoted soldier tricks her into killing him in order to show her that she still has the edge to kill.

This also clues us into more complex motivations for Blackfire. She is actively a patriot who believes that her father's rule is weak (she turns out to be right) and believes that conquering her planet is in effect her way of saving it. She has to put on this persona because the cause is more important than anything in her life, even love.

(This also contrasts Starfire who has no interest in being a ruler and runs away to live on earth with her love).

Also I'd be remiss to mention at the end of this particular arc Starfire doesn't forgive her sister or reconcile with her. I've never believed she owed her that. The arc just shows that Blackfire a human being (or a tamaranean I guess) who is capable of both good and evil. That her motivations are more complex than being a power hungry usurper and she actually can have good intentions. She's more of an example of the 'Well-intentioned Extremist" trope.

It's the complete opposite of Azula who's reduced to the mad queen stereotype in the end. Which is another knock against Avatar, Blackfire might not be the best disabled representation in the world but as I said parent's only treating their disabled child as a burden and that disabled child watching their parents take care of and love their abled children is a real thing that happens all the time. The comic also goes to show how competent Blackfire is in sipte of her disability.

Whereas, I can't imagine what it feels like to see yourself in Azula's mental breakdown, only to watch her last moment on the show have her offered no support, and not even a single sign that she might recover one day. Blackfire's motivations are tied to her abuse, but she's not demonized for being disabled in fact she's fantastically competent. Azula's like, readuced to an inhuman, ugly monster, and her mental illness takes all of her agency away and once again we're shown no hope for recovery.

Azula is reduced to a screaming incoherent mess. She has basically no agency in the end. Not only does Blackfire have agency, but like she has acutal points to make? The story values her point of view and gives credence to it? Myand'r is a weak ruler. She's not wrong when she says that their parents are the source of abuse for both of them. In fact, the narrative directly states the ones who started the abuse are their parents while it only implies it again with Azula and Zuko. Maybe the reason so many people deny that Azula is an abuse victim is because we only see the abuse from Zuko's perspective not Azula's. Whereas we get both conflicting accounts of Blackfire and Starfire's childhood and the narrative trusts us to judge things with nuance rather than needing it fed to us.

The planet has been invaded twice now. She's also, like, more popular with her father's weak rule?

Also like the story shows us why Blackfire will make a better ruler than Starfire. The narrative doesn't really illustrate how Zuko will be a better ruler, it just follows the "good king" trope.

I mean it's a fun little parallel that both Zuko and Blackfire are both an exiled prince and princess respectively, who return home to take back their throne. On one hand though, it feels like Zuko does it out of like, wanting to reclaim his birthright, or his feeling that the throne is his destiny. That's part of Blackfire's motivation too, but as I said, Zuko never states onscreen how he plans to improve the fire nation, Blackfire's got like actual policies.

Which is where the difference ultimately lies, Blackfire and Starfire are ultimately characterized as two sides of the same coin who need to come together to save the planet. Killing blackfire or putting her down won't fix shit or end the cycle of abuse on Tamaran. Blackfire and Starfire are much like Tamaran defined by love and war, and there's love and war in Starfire, and love and war in Blackfire and they both need to find a balance between the two.

This is in contrast to Zuko and Azula who's final conflict is just putting Azula down like a mad dog, quite literally. Blackfire is allowed to be human, with good and bad traits, and like actual points to make whereas Zuko's narrative only cares about Zuko's thoughts, and in general instead of coming together the narrative seems to think the only way that Zuko can triumph is if Azula is dragged down into the mud.

Blackfire is a character, and Azula is ultimately just a plot obstacle.

So that's my long ramble on a sibling relationship I absolutely love, and a sibling relationship I can't love no matter how much I like Zuko and Azula individually.

[therealcocoshady]

Hey! Can you please write marshall's reaction when doctor tells him that his wife is pregnant with TRIPLETS and all of them are BOYS?

Boy dad 🩵

A/N : I find it absolutely hilarious that you sent this request right after I mention I had a soft spot for writing Eminem as the ultimate girl dad 😅. You’re challenging me and I like that 👀. Also… I had SO MUCH FUN writing this request. I don’t think I have written anything this fast ! I hope you enjoy it ✨.

CW : Mention of infertility diagnosis - surprise pregnancy - triplet - mention of abortive measures - angst - fluff

I imagine that he’d react differently to all these news, this pregnancy definitely bringing him on some type of emotional rollercoaster.

He absolutely did not expect you to tell him you were pregnant. You’d been together for a while and, early on in the relationship, you’d told him that you had endometriosis, and that the rather advanced stage of the condition affected your fertility. He didn’t mind it one bit, though. He already had daughters and did not necessarily want any more kids. If you had mentioned that being a mom was important to you, he would have done everything in his power to make your dreams come true, whether it was by doing IVF or adopting. But you didn’t. You’d known about the condition for more than a decade and, though it hadn’t been easy at first, you were at peace with the idea of not raising kids. As long as you had the love of your life by your side, you knew you’d be happy. The two of you went on to get married and enjoy life together. For years, you enjoyed marital bliss and a childfree home, his daughters being all grown up and out of the house. Never in a million years did you expect to get pregnant. The absence of period didn’t exactly tip you off, since your cycle had always been very irregular. And you almost laughed in the face of your GP when she suggested you get some bloodwork done and do a pregnancy test. Sure, you’d booked a consultation because of fatigue and nausea, but there was no way in your mind that the symptoms could be pregnancy-related. After all, the doctors had evaluated your chances of conceiving as « slim to none ». The only reason you agreed to the pregnancy test was because the bloodwork prescription also included other things, so you figured your GP would actually find the cause, probably anemia, and prescribe you some supplements.

You nearly fell from your chair when she called you about the result, and you had her confirm several times that there was no confusion, or that it was not a prank. When the call ended, you burst in a fit of nervous laughter, still in disbelief. Your laugh echoed throughout the house, causing Marshall to come to your office. You realized you probably sounded manic and demented when you saw your husband’s concerned expression. « Are you… alright? » he asked with a raised eyebrow. You didn’t even think twice abut breaking the news to him. « The doctor called. She had my results », you said, struggling to form a complete sentence. He looked at you, nervosity creeping up on him. When it came to you, he seemed to have the ability to get paranoid over nothing. And if it had you sounding this insane, he figured bad news weren’t exactly out of the question, especially with how sick you had been in the past few weeks. He kneeled by your side, holding your hand in his. « So… Is there anything wrong? » he asked in a concerned tone. « I’m pregnant, » you cackled, sounding like a hyena. « Fifteen years ago, they said I was infertile. I did three years of therapy after that and now… pregnant », you hysterically guffawed. You had tears streaming on your cheeks and you struggled to catch your breathing, the nervous laughter taking over your body. So much so that you didn’t even register Marshall’s reaction, or lack thereof. But, minutes after you said the word, you slowly realized he’d remained silent. He was still in the same position, staring at you without so much as blinking. For a spare second, you thought he’d turned into a wax statue and you suddenly understood why some people had described his stare as « creepy ». As your mind became clearer and the silence settled, you started freaking out. « Marshall…? » you asked. He slowly started blinking, looking at you as if he were a deer in headlights. « P-pregnant? » he whispered. « You’re… pregnant? ». You gently squeezed your hand and nodded, the news dawning on you in a different way. « I am » you confirmed. « And, uh… eight weeks along, approximately ». He let out a sigh, visibly surprised. Then, he took both of your hands and kissed them profusely.

« But you’re alright? » he asked, and you nodded again. « Fuck, babe, you scared me. I wasn’t sure if you were dying, or demented, or both » he let out with a chuckle. « Nope… Just… Pregnant », you giggled, still in disbelief over the word. « That’s wonderful » he said emotionally, a smile appearing on your face. You looked at him, scanning his face, just to be sure. « You really think so? » you asked. « Because I know it wasn’t planned, and… ». He gently pressed his finger to your lips and shook his head. « It wasn’t. Fuck. It really wasn’t. But if you’re happy about it… Wait. Are you? » he asked carefully. You gave him a nod and a smile. « I am. I just… I can’t believe it ». He cupped your face and smiled at you tenderly. « If you are happy about it, so am I. That’s great news, Y/N. We made a baby » he said. You couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear, happy tears welling in your eyes. « I thought I’d never be a mom » you whispered, waves of emotions crashing over you as you remembered the first time you were told you couldn’t conceive. « Apparently, you thought wrong » he said, happiness radiating on his face. « And I know our baby already has the best mama » he added emotionally, bringing you into a tight, heartfelt embrace.

The following couple of weeks was emotional but happy. The two of you were ecstatic, determined to welcome this baby as the most beautiful blessing ever. You were still sick and exhausted, but the perspective of welcoming a bundle of joy that was the product of your love certainly made it easier to bear, as did your husband’s gentle care. He seemed determined to make your life easier and give you the most beautiful pregnancy experience, constantly dotting on you and spoiling you. You thought he’d given you the princess treatment in your early courting days but apparently, he was able to take it to another level. You didn’t need the numerous bouquets of flowers (in fact, the smell made you nauseous but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that), nor the many presents, but you enjoyed them nonetheless. Most of all, you loved seeing his excitement and devotion for the baby, whom both of you had yet to see.

Both of you felt a sense of childlike excitement, going for the ultrasound appointment. The closest thing you could compare it to was your niece’s first trip to Disneyland, preparing to meet her favorite princesses. You were a little nervous, praying that the baby was healthy. You’d asked Marshall about the gender, and whether he’d rather have a boy or a girl, but both of you were in agreement that, as long as the baby was healthy, it did not matter. « You know, I always thought being a girl dad was what made me so soft, but I know the baby will have me wrapped around their finger, even if they’re a boy » he said. You knew that it was too early to know the gender anyway, but you couldn’t help it. You kept on trying to imagine what that baby would look like. Marshall held your hand in his as the doctor put the probe on your stomach, squeezing tighter as both of you noticed the furrowing of her eyebrows, looking at the screen. « Alright », she said. « It looks like I made a little mistake while interpreting the hormone rate results » she said, turning to you. You turned to Marshall, a sense of nervosity taking over, unsure what the implications were. Did she mean that there was no baby ? Or that there was some health issues? You felt a lump form in your throat, unable to talk. « What mistake? » Marshall nearly barked, nerves taking over his usual politeness. « Well, you see, we usually use the hormone rates to give an estimate, of how far along the pregnancy is » she explained. « However, we tend to assume that it’s a singleton ». Both of you opened wide eyes and you held two fingers up. « Twins? » you asked in a throaty voice. « Triplets » she announced with a smile. « You’re not as far along as I thought. About six weeks. But all three babies are healthy ».

Part of you wanted to sigh in relief, over the news that the pregnancy was healthy but learning that you were carrying not one, not two, but three babies sent both you and Marshall into a spiral. As you drove home, pictures in hand, none of you knew how to feel, and you both remained rather quiet, exchanging banalities, visibly in shock and in need of some time to process. Not so long ago, you were sure you’d never have kids and now, you had to wrap your head around the fact that you were carrying three. In a way, it was a blessing, for sure. But you’d spent so many years envisioning your life without kids of your own that even the perspective of raising one was overwhelming. Multiplying it by three left you speechless and terrified. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to do this. And you weren’t sure how your husband felt either. That would make him a dad to… Six kids. You spent the night in your bed, trying to get some rest and emotional clarity. You took to Google, typing vague and stupid requests such as « pregnant with triplets and freaking out ». You were hoping for some support, some testimonies of parents who had shared your concerns but made it work. Instead, you were met with hundreds of resources about selective fetal reduction procedures. You read a couple of them but, soon enough, you ended up bawling. You couldn’t bring yourself to consider it. You weren’t really churchy or religious by any means, but part of you wanted to believe that life had given you triplets for a reason, and there was no way you would get rid of one of your babies. They were there, and you already loved them so much, even if the perspective of running after three toddlers was nerve-wracking.

When Marshall walked into your shared bedroom and found you crying, he immediately engulfed you into a hug. « Babe, what’s wrong? » he asked softly. « I’m so scared. Three babies is a lot » you hiccuped. « But I don’t want to kill any of them ». He stepped back and looked at you in shock. « Woah, woah, woah. Calm down. Who said we needed to kill babies? » he asked. « I learned that there’s this surgery, that you… I don’t know. Apparently, people do that when they’re carrying too many babies » you tentatively explained in a shaky voice. « I’m freaking out, Marshall. And I know you are, too ». He hummed and nodded, not denying it. « Of course I am » he said gently. « I mean, I wasn’t prepared for a new baby. And now, knowing there’s three of them… It’s a lot. But we can do it. It’ll just take… a lot of logistics. And diapers, I guess. ». His tone was reassuring, though you could tell he was definitely stressed out. « But how are we going to do? With work and all? And do you think we’ll get any sleep at all? » you asked nervously. He shrugged and pressed a kiss to your forehead. « I don’t know » he admitted. « But we’re lucky enough that we can afford anything we need. If you want to quit your job, you can. Or we can get nannies, or a chef, or whatever. Or I can quit my job. But we’ll manage, I know it ». You let out a sigh and let your head roll on his shoulder. « It’s going to change everything » you said. « Yeah, it is. But we’re doing this together. » he replied. « So… You don’t want to get rid of two of them? » you nervously asked. « No. If you think you can’t handle three kids and you want to have that surgery, I’ll support you. But other than that, it’s not up to me to decide. It’s your body and your pregnancy. And whether we have one, three, or seven babies, I will love and support all of you ».

In the months that followed, Marshall continued to dot on you, trying to provide comfort and reassurance, but you could feel each other’s nervousness. This wasn’t help by the reaction to your pregnancy announcement. Your friends and family, though they were happy for you, were not exactly tactful about the huge change the triplets would bring in their life, sometimes making little jokes about Marshall being « too old for this shit ». They also seemed concerned about the impact on his career, though he made it clear that family would remain his priority, as it had been in the past, and that he would put his career on hold if need be. He reiterated the sentiment when you confronted him about it. « You don’t have to do this, you know? I know your career is important to you, and that you had so many plans in mind. The last thing I want is for the pregnancy to ruin it for you » you told him one night. « I know I don’t have to » he assured you. « But you’re my wife. You became my family the day I put a ring on your finger. We vowed to support each other and you held your part of the deal all these years. You supported me in everything. I want to be here for you and our babies. And it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to sacrifice more than you have » he said. You nodded, swallowing dryly. You had felt his tension and nervousness in the past weeks. He remained loving and caring, but you knew he was trying to anticipate everything. «Look, I’ve already talked to Paul. We cleared the schedule for a while. Two months before your due date, and six months after that. Then, we’ll reevaluate. But it’s not just all the career, you know? We’re welcoming three babies, everything is going to change and, some of it is going to be hard, but it’s also going to be happy. I don’t want to miss any milestone. The first time they smile, the crawling, the first steps… I want to be there. So, really, you giving me three amazing, beautiful, healthy kids is not ruining anything ».

As the pregnancy progressed, however, the nervousness remained. The two of you certainly had a few cold sweats when you tried to prepare for the birth, overwhelmed by the amount of baby stuff. Cribs, diapers, bottles, car seats… Everything was to be multiplied by three. In true dad fashion, he decided to buy a new car to accommodate the needs of your growing family, but you could see his frustration. « I think I’ll just end up repurposing a tour bus » he sighed. « The amount of stuff we’ll be driving around is insane ! Have you seen the space we’ll need, just to fit the stroller and diaper bags?! ». The more you tried to prepare, the less joyful it became. The two of you were still happy, determined to welcome the babies and love them, but you were both overwhelmed, especially Marshall. Carrying the babies, feeling them growing inside of you was your main source of comfort and reassurance but, even though your husband was involved, he didn’t have that bond. For him, it still felt distant and logistical. Until the gender reveal.

Prior to learning you were having triplets, the two of you had toyed with the idea of waiting until the birth to find out the gender. But now that the planning was overwhelming, it felt like knowing the gender would make things easier. You also suspected that it might help Marshall feel a little closer to your little ones, since he would be able to at least picture it a little better. However, you opted out of turning it into a huge event. Carrying triplets was exhausting and you were in no mood to be social for a whole afternoon. Instead, you decided to enjoy the moment, just the two of you. The doctor had given you an envelope with the gender of the triplets, which you have to the owner of your favorite bakery. You ended up with a three-layered cake, the color of each layer representing the gender of one baby. « Are you ready? » you asked as you opened the box, revealing an elegant cake, coated in white frosting. « Ready » he said with a smile. « Still no preference for the gender? » you asked teasingly. « I’m hoping for at least one son, » he admitted. « I love being a girl dad, but six daughters and a wife would feel… A little lonely » he chuckled before crouching in front of you and placing a loving kiss on your belly. « But I love y’all anyway » he whispered. You took a deep breath and cut the cake, careful not to look before he could. « I can’t do it! » you said. « I can’t look! You have a look and tell me! ». He chuckled as you closed your eyes. You heard the cluttering of cutlery, followed by a « HOLY SHIT!!! ». You immediately opened your eyes and saw all blue layers inside of the piece of cake on the plate.

Marshall was covering in mouth, in absolute disbelief. « Boys! All boys! » he said. « Looks like your wish came true » you whispered. He took your hands and kissed you lovingly. « You’re going to be a boy mom » he stated with a smile, knowing full-well you’d always said the boy moms were the most annoying of the species. You giggled and pressed your forehead to his. « Hopefully, I don’t become too annoying » you chuckled. « Do whatever you want, I’m definitely going to be an annoying boy dad » he grinned. «After we eat that cake, I’m ordering Lions jerseys for them. And Jordans. Oh my God, I’m having sons ». You watched lovingly as he rambled about how great it would be to introduce them to football, how much fun they’d have bonding over sports. His joy, which had seemed quieted by the logistical concerns, was overwhelming and he was positively beaming. « I’m quitting » he finally said. « You’re what?! » you asked. « Babe, picture this: you give birth to these three, and you do it twice more. Maybe just twins for the last pregnancy. We only need 11 players for the Mathers football team! ». You rolled your eyes at him and patted his chest. « We’ll see how you feel about it after the first night home from the hospital » you said. He rolled his eyes back at you and placed a kiss on your lips. « I can’t wait to meet these guys ».

[jesuistrestriste]

girl you're literally the best writer here. Please please pleaaaaaaase can you do a part 2 of fwb Art who gets attached to you quickly 🛐 I'M BEGGING YOU

< pt 2 to this >

well.

you caved.

goddamnit, you caved quick too.

as soon as those tears spilled down his cheeks and into the crook of your neck, it was over. you wonder if maybe he weaponized his emotions a little to get you to stay, but it doesn’t really matter now, does it?

you did as he begged for you to do; you stayed the night with him. you expected that maybe he would try to have sex with you again, but it never happened.

as soon as you agreed to not go back to your own bed, he pressed kisses over your neck and held you tight. he gave you one of his loose stanford tennis tees and a pair of his boxers for you to sleep in, and then he coaxed you under the sheets. no grinding, no handsy touches, nothing.

he just laid there with you, breathing softly and comfortably as he rested his head on your chest, and fell asleep. you stared at the ceiling for most of the night just thinking ‘what the hell have i just gotten myself into’. if only you’d had the strength to refuse him before, because now you could tell he was in it.

bad.

you wake up in the morning after a night of inner turmoil and feel a comfortable weight behind you. a ghost of warmth pressed up against your back, and oh god, he’s spooning you. his arms are wrapped around your torso and his legs are tangled with yours.

you try to very quietly shift out of his hold, grabbing onto the side of his bed and pulling yourself towards it, but he just whines softly in his sleep and then tugs you right back flush to his chest. you sigh. you cave again, and let him keep you.

the both of you stay that way for another thirty minutes before art nuzzles into your shoulder and starts to stir. he presses three kisses to your neck as he sits up, and then gazes lazily down at you with lidded eyes as he takes in the sight of your features in the sunlight creeping through his blinds.

he’s only ever seen you in the dark; after parties and in response to your 1 AM bootycalls. how could he have ever gone this long without seeing you like this? the way your skin shines, the depth of the color in your irises, the little crevices and dips in your nose and cheeks and chin that make you look like you were lovingly sculpted by the hands of an artist. like you were someone’s muse.

you can see it in the way he looks down to you.

there’s going to be absolutely no (easy) way to get out of whatever you just started with him. one night changed everything. at least in his mind, you were sure of it.

he reaches a hand up and brushes his thumb over your lips, studying you before he knows you’ll turn away.

and then his lips are pressing down to yours. a soft, sweet, tender gesture that says so much more than you necessarily want from him. he only pulls back to whisper one thing, his eyes holding the same—almost nervous—vulnerability that they had the night before when he had weeped a plea into your frame.

“so..” he chews the inside of his cheek, “can i make you breakfast..?”

…

oh boy.

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Hii, hope u're doing ok in ur break. If the slot is till open, can i request Sir Pentious n Alastor with a dom male! reader who used to be a detective before he died?

I like the thought of Alastor being with someone who's supposed to arrest him (lol), and making him call the reader 'sir' a lot.

You Have The Right To Remain Silent... If You Can~

Sir Pentious

You slammed the serpent onto the desk, bending him over as you slid a hand down his scaly form, gripping his surprisingly curvaceous hips.

Yanking his head back by his hood, you growled in his ear.

"Where are you hiding the weapons?"

The man gasped softly, back arching as he swallowed the lump in his throat, scaly rear almost presenting to you.

"I'll never tell!" He whined, trying to pull from your grasp, only to moan as you gripped his hood even tighter, pulling him close.

You yanked his arms back, snapped a pair of cuffs onto him.

They were cheap cuffs, stuff from a xheapo store, you sure if the man tried hard enough they'd break, yet you knew he wouldn't, the man whining softly as you leant over him.

With a sadistic smile, you gripped his face, pulling him in close.

"Tell me, and this can be easy. Ooor you could resist, and I could be very, very Hard on you~" you growled, practically grinding on him.

The man simply moaned, biting his lower lip.

"So, you think you can break me?! I'd love to see you try!" He cried triumphantly, as you leaned in, breathing heavy on his neck.

You smirked, yanking on his hood as you slammed his face into the desk.

"Oh don't worry. I'm not scared to throw the book at you." You growled, leaning in close, practically purring in his ear. "But with you, snake boy... you should be careful, cause if you keep resisting imma spank you with it."

You growled, slapping his scaly "ass", Pentious moaning lewdly as he practically pushed back in your hand.

The man all but whining as you manhandled him.

You had some back and forth, Pentious declaring he'd never reveal his secrets, you determined to 'drill' them out of him, using your 'experience' on Pentious. Putting that top notch detective experience to work.

Of course you weren't too rough. You were too experienced a detective to rough him up enough to leave marks, well, to leave bad marks, you left plenty of fun marks on the man, though even then he never minded a bit of rough play.

Having the man at your mercy was always a lovely thrill, Pentious a giddy idiot when intimate, but he was surprisingly capable at theatrics when in the mood, man a damsel at your mercy.

Well, not necessarily at your mercy, Pentious was totally in on it, the man all but eager to submit to 'your authority', putting up as much of a fight as he was expected too.

You didn't get too rough, well, not physically, as you didnt wanna leave marks, not that Pentious minded marks, he just didn't want the sort you couldn't explain off.

Pinning him to the desk, you'd hold him close, kissing and suckling his delicate neck flesh, drawing a string of moans and whines from the man, Pentious moaning loudly as you suddenly bit the snakes neck.

This was hardly the first time you'd played this role, Pentious particular to a bit of power play, especially when you so naturally knew your part.

And despite the man's craving for status and power, he relished the way you dominated him, a big goofy grin across his face as you used your once lawful abilities to hold power over others, the snake fascinated with almost supernatural power you held over him, almost as much as the hold you had on his body.

And while he'd never publicly admit it, the snake loved submitting every tume you took charge.

You treated him like any other perp, cuffing the man as you... had your fun~

Pentious loved every second of it, you always sure he enjoyed it, the snake loving it when you were in power.

This was a surprisingly big part of your relationship, the two of you having a deeply intimate connection.

Pentious relishing more then just the idea of you, but the sheer dominance you could exert, the man both loving and desperately wanting to emulate your dominant abilities.

And while the sexual aspect was always heavy, he really craved to know how to dominate, you trying to show the snake just how to be more dominant.

Yet despite your abilities and attempts, the man occasionally having bouts of success, you always held the cards in your relationship.

You'd of course teach the snake many of the skills you held.

You were a veteran detective before death, and as such you knew far more about the minds of others then many Sinners in Hell, a skill Pentious desperately wished to emulate.

Of course, when not engaging in Detective themed S&M, you had a deeply romantic relationship.

Pentious, despite himself, was desperate for intimacy. The man adoring the fact he had someone to care and attend to, and you damn well knew it.

The snake was always amazed at your deductive abilities, you able to trll much about him before he even spoke, you doing your best to teach him, too... mixed results.

But despite the regular 'Cops and Robbers' routine, you also had a deeply intimate relationship, you often spending great lengths of time with the man.

You, of course, let him keep something of an illusion of control, the man allowed to build his air fleet and egg-boi army, you keeping a watch of it all, but the man ultimately free to do as he pleased.

Of course, you barely had to assert yourself to dominate the man, Pentious immediately folding any time you so much as touched him, the Serpent relishing your touch in his life, craving your affection.

You had the snake wrapped around your fingers, Pentious loving it any time you flexed your power over him, The snake loving to puff up his ego, but the man quivering if you so much as purred in his ear.

You and your 'big bad snake' shared a deep, if lopsided, relationship, as while the man relished asserting his power and status, he adored when you asserted your power over him, two of you having a deeply adoring relationship.

Alastor

Your little back and forth with Alastor was long running, the man finding you exceptionally interesting.

You were in your 'office', the man sat in a chair as you stood over the man.

"My, Mr Detective, aren't you going to read me my rights?"

You simply smirked, yanking on his dishevelled neck tie, the man biting his lip as you stared down at the man, the Radio Demon's wrists bound behind his back.

The man who was so used to getting his way, that having the man at your whim, the man at your mercy, it was a refreshing change of pace for the man.

And if you happen to play into the roaring persona of an ABU agent eager to 'question' him with some... unorthadox interrogation tactics.

"Oh don't worry, I'll make sure you know every right and wrong you've got~"

Alastor knew this song and dance, having endured such treatment when alive, something he was sure to remind you of every time you had your little 'play sessions'.

You always eager to play into the role, playing up your persona, usually with a distinct shift, either rank or position, or his Crime.

Always making sure to play into it. Hard. Relishing your 'play time' with thr man, the dapper demon seemingly appreciating your theatrics as you pressed him into a wall. Or desk. Or the back of your car.

Or over your car.

Or on that ferris-wheel that one time.

Pressing your body to his, getting closer then any man ever had, binding his wrists with his own dress shirt as you slid your hands into his belt line.

"Looks like youll be going in for some Hard Time?"

You growling in his ear, working over his lithe form, drawing out a string of breathless moans from the man.

Alastor purred, a crackle of static as his back arched, you relishing this control, always managing to illicite a moan from the man.

The demon, despite his pride, was deeply susceptible to your detective persona, the man, in an oddly reminiscent episode enjoyed reliving his mortal years, the thrill of the back and forth. And of the Hunt~

The man was witty, and smug, as he was in life, always eager for your 'play time'. Which was iron8c since he wasnt all too partial to physical contact, yet with you he adored those 'rendezvous' always eager to elicit a rise out of you, man partial to some pain.

Though even as you slammed him against your desk, flesh pressed against flesh, the man always doing his best to keep up his smug persona, his way of encouraging you to 'put him in his place'.

You had an exceptionally smug back and forth every time, Alastor exceptionally snarky, well, until you smacked his ass, Alastor suppressing a whine as you leaning in close, biting his neck.

Now, Alastor would never admit as much, but he was very partial to a good bite on the neck, the man often whining like a doe when you sunk your teeth into the man's neck. A favour he would often return, you having more then a few bloody Tshirts due to the man.

The man would often end up as a whining, mewling mess, eyes crossing as you held the man down, turning Alastor into a moaning, whining mess, utterly submitting to you when in your office.

Of course the man would never admit as much publicly, keeping up his ever smug radio persona when in public.

But when in the privacy of your own home, he'd playfully submit, allowing you to 'take charge', you usually ending up inside of him.

One way or another.

The man, despite his pride, loved your little games of back and forths, able to experience real dominance, a breath of fresh air for such a powerful demon, the dapper demon so used to being the most powerful person in the room, he received an alien body of energy every time.

Of course, your past as a detective was always a point of teasing and prodding for the man, the man loving to work you up with idiotic questions until you'd end up snapping, said snapping usually ending with him bound to a chair, missing half his clothing, his neck utterly covered in big red bite marks.

A big dopey grin on his face with his hair all kinds'ah fucked up.

You were a constant source of entertainment, as whenever you werent 'investigating' something, i.e his body, you were usually enduring his teases and taunts, the man always happy to get a rise out of you, you quickly reminding him who was in charge.

Your favourite being to bind his wrists with his own bowtie, regularly blindfolding him before having your way with him, leaving a whole myriad of new marks and scars.

Alastor liked to pretend otherwise, but it was painfully obvious he was always eager for it, even as he moaned and squirmed, back arching as he practically begged, something he desperately tried not too do, but you always managed to squeeze it out of him, among with other things~

When not engaging in sexually deviance, the two of you had an exceptionally romantic relationship, as even as he was hesitant to show real intimacy, or well, public intimacy was mostly off the table.

Of course, you'd still manage to get something from the man, usually a simple kiss, or affectionate nuzzle, a monumental achievement for anybody. One you always celebrated in your own smug little way.

And yes, he'd never reveal the inner dynamics of your relationship, something you didn't blame him for, he was as vain as you were assertive. You still shared a loving, and disproportionately assertive, relationship, the two of you loving each other deeply, adoring each other. Usually with Alastor being bent over a desk being your favourite way to show it to each other~

[trippinsorrows]

10 things + part two

authors note: wasn't expecting so many of you to be interested in this! but, you were, and now here we are! 😅 there will definitely be a final part 3 to this, btw.

words: 3.1k

part one

gif belongs to @romanreigns

warnings: angst, argument between parent and child, things get a tad bit physical....

Nova has always enjoyed and cherished Roman being home. For a lot of reasons. Many of them obvious, like the fact that he’s her husband, the man she loves, the man she wants to be around. Or even just the relief that comes with having another adult in the home to help out with the girls while she works. 

So him having time off work the past few months really has made a difference. For her. For their marriage. And especially for his relationship with their young daughters.

If only the same could be said for his relationship with their firstborn.

Which is exactly what she plans to tackle when he walks back in the room after putting the girls down for bed.

“How many stories did they sucker out of you?”

Roman chuckles at the first question he’s hit with as soon as he returns from bedtime duties. “Only three this time.”

She smiles, watching him close the door and walk over to where she sits on her knees in the middle of the bed. “Park must have worn them out.”

He makes a sound, starting to eye her up and down. Nova knows that look. Knows it far too well. It’s the same look that most likely led to both her pregnancies with their middle and youngest. “Speaking of wearing out…..”

She rolls her eyes when he reaches for her chin, lifting her head. “We need to talk.”

“Not gonna lie, not really in the mood for talking. Not with this little piece you got on….” He gestures to the thin sleep dress that shows off her breast and hardened nipples that are stretched against the cotton. 

“Too bad.” She ignores him, patting the spot beside her. “Come on.”

The scowl on his face is comical, similar to any of the kids when they’ve just been told something they don’t want to hear. “It better be important.”

“It is,” she promises. One of the most important things in his life. 

Roman looks at her, gaze shifting into something suspicious. “You pregnant?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, Roman, I’m not pregnant.” Nova taps her upper forearm. “Remember? We made sure that doesn’t happen again. At least not without being planned.” He looks both relieved and torn. Relatable. Neither of them necessarily want any more children, but they also wouldn’t be upset if it happened. “Besides, we need to focus on the ones we have. Starting with Junior.”

And instantly, she knows she’s lost his interest. “Not this again—”

“Yes, this again.” She stresses, borderline irritated that he’s irritated that she wants to discuss his abysmal relationship with their firstborn. “He’s your son, Roman. You need to fix your relationship with him.”

“Nova, we both know that boy doesn't want anything to do with me.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not true.”

He runs his hands through his hair, expressing 100% disagreement. “He acts like he hates me or something.”

Though it’s said with surface level irritation, Nova knows her husband well. Has known him since they were teenagers, so it’s relatively easy for her to see through his facade. His statement holds a lot of hurt.

A lot of pain.

“He doesn’t, baby,” she comforts, reaching to push back some of his hair. He has it down, free and wavy just how she prefers it. “He’s just—-he……he feels like he can’t talk to you.”

Roman is quick to object. “He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“No, he doesn’t want to talk to you if you’re not going to listen to him, and you don’t sometimes, Roman.”

Nova loves her husband as much as she’s certain he loves her, but he can be hard headed and stubborn. Borderline arrogant, especially when he believes he’s right. A hard person to deal with. At times, at least.

She watches the way Roman’s shoulders relax a bit as he lets down some of his walls, admitting, “I just don’t want him to make the same mistakes I did.”

Nova moves and hugs him from behind, chin on his shoulder. “I get that, babe, but he’s going to make mistakes, regardless, because he’s a kid. That’s how they learn.”

“But, why should I just sit here and watch my son go down the same road I did if I can avoid it?”

And herein lies the main issue from what Nova has been able to see. The vastly different stances the two men in her life have regarding one of their futures. RJ wants to enter the NFL draft next year, wants to get started on his career now rather than later. Believes that’s the best route for him. Roman, however, wants his son to finish school and then declare for the draft. 

To avoid having the tough experiences Roman had in not getting drafted and being added and cut from team to team, putting the family in financial difficulties because of inconsistent income. Roman couldn’t even provide for his family at that time, a devastating feeling for anyone, let alone a man.

RJ, clearly, is in a different boat. Regardless, with no college degree, Roman didn’t have much to lean back on. He doesn’t want that for his son.

If only Junior saw it that way.  

“Because you can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do.” She sighs, sharing her own thoughts. “I don’t disagree with you, Roman. I think he should stay and finish school and then enter the draft too, but I can’t make that decision for him, and neither can you.”

“So we just let him make bad decisions? Is that what you’re saying?” She closes her eyes. Here they go. “Fuck that. I know you like to be his friend, but you’re not, Nova. You’re his mother, and you need to act like it.”

“Excuse me?” She moves away, removing her arms from around him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you don’t like confrontation, so you avoid it by any means, even if it means upholding his bad behavior.”

Nova doesn’t really get angry or let things affect her much. Unless it comes to her family. To her kids. And Roman happens to be picking at that soft spot. “No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to make it seem like I’m a bad mother for supporting our son.”

He rolls his eyes. “Not everything needs to be supported.”

“And not everything needs to be judged either.” She shakes her head, climbing off the bed. “This is the shit I’m talking about. It’s like I can’t even talk to you anymore.” Nova heads for their bathroom, already over this conversation. She loves Roman, but sometimes, she can’t stand him.

And this is gradually turning into one of those times. 

Roman is hot on her heels, standing in the doorway as she starts to pull out her skincare items. “See, you’re proving my point. You’re walking away.”

She turns to him, explaining boldly. “I’m walking away because I don’t want to argue with you. I’m tired of that, and you should be too, which is why I’m trying to get you to make peace with your only son.”

Of course, he continues playing the victim, going along with his swan song. “Why should I have to do it? Why should I have to apologize for looking out for him? For being his father?”

“He doesn’t see it that way, Roman. He sees it as you being controlling.”

“No, he just doesn’t want anyone telling him what to do.”

Nova scoffs, grabbing her face cream, twisting off the cap. “Wonder where he gets that from.”

She doesn’t have to be looking at him to know he’s scowling. “He’s not a little boy anymore. You need to stop fucking babying him all the time.”

At that, her head snaps in his direction. “Excuse me?” Again, poking the bear. “I don’t baby him. I make myself available for him emotionally. Lord knows, you don’t.”

“He doesn’t want me—”

Nova slams the jar down on the counter, turning to him. “What does he want, Roman? Huh?” She places one hand on the counter and the other on her hip. “When’s the last time you even asked him?”

He looks away, jaw clenched, and she knows she’s got him. Knows that he has no retort for that. Not a good one, at least. 

“You know what, I’m done asking you to do shit.” She steps toward him, all of the weight and stress of this situation evident in both her expression and voice. “I’m telling you to make things right with our son.”

Nova takes his hands in hers. “I love you, but I love our children more.” She swallows, emotion betraying her, eyes watering. “And if it ever came to it where it’s between them and you….I choose them every time.”

—--------

“We need to talk.”

Nova is barely back in the kitchen after getting the girls down for bed when the smile is easily wiped off her previously happy face. She glances over at her husband and then her son, both standing on separate sides of the kitchen island. She can tell RJ was about to head out, clearly uninterested in staying beyond his attendance for Sunday family dinner.

A part of her wants to cut in, wants to suggest that maybe they do this another time. Maybe over lunch between the two of them. Someplace where they’re less likely to have an epic blowout.

But, it’s too late.

RJ visibly tenses at Roman’s statement. An obvious reaction given the fact that rarely do good things follow those four infamous words. 

“About?” 

“You still planning to enter the draft?”

RJ shrugs. “Yeah.”

Roman is quiet for a second, stroking his beard. “You know that’s stupid, right?”

Nova closes her eyes. Such a great start. “Roman.”

RJ, however, just smiles and crosses his arms. “Of course, you think it’s stupid. Not like anyone else can have a good idea if it didn’t come from you.”

Roman ignores that, instead suggesting, “you need to finish school first. Get your degree.”

“Why?” RJ’s nose is turned up in disgust. “We all know I’m locked in to be a first round pick.”

“That’s what you think. It’s not guaranteed.” Roman objects, advising, “don’t get too cocky.”

At that, RJ looks like he wants to laugh. “You’re telling me that?” He scoffs. “You’re the last one to talk.”

“Junior.” Nova scolds, now standing almost directly next to Roman. “I think what your dad is trying to say—”

“How much longer you think I’m gonna keep putting up with your disrespectful ass mouth, huh?” Roman cuts her off, and Nova finds herself reaching over to grab his hand. His tone alone tells her his anger is spiking, and that’s never a good thing. Especially right now. “Keep it up.”

And the situation is only made worse when Junior starts to laugh. Nova closes her eyes. This is not what she meant when she told Roman to make things right.

He’s doing the exact opposite. 

Roman’s nose is flared, his voice tight as he he asks, “what’s so fucking funny?”

“You.” RJ doesn’t hesitate to answer, hands flat on the granite as he leans over the island. “How all of a sudden you wanna be my dad. How you all of a sudden wanna act like you care about me. Act like you care about my future. Act like you didn’t miss almost, if not all, of my games when I was growing up.”

Nova’s stomach is starting to twist and knot. “RJ—”

But, he only continues. Pain and anger meshing and forming into a dangerous combination. “Mama was there. Every game. You weren’t.” Nova glances over at Roman and sees the same mix of feelings from their son in him. “You weren’t there for me then, so you don’t get to be there for me now.” 

Closing her eyes, she does her best to quickly try to figure out what’s the best thing to say. To try to defuse this situation that’s clearly much deeper than she could have ever realized. 

But, Roman is faster. “You act like I was this piece of shit dad who was never around at all.” And just like with her son, she sees and hears it with the senior of the two. Anger and hurt. And pride. “I had to work to provide for you and your mother. You don’t get to throw that shit in my face when you’re older and use it to play the victim.”

Neither. Neither of them clearly know how to communicate without slinging mud. Without sharing how they feel minus the petty jabs and cheap shots. 

RJ only scoffs, seemingly unbothered. “Whatever.”

Roman leans his head back and rolls his shoulder. “RJ, I’m telling you right now, you leave school early and shit doesn’t work out, I’m cutting you off.”

Nova would have loved to have seen her son’s reaction to that, but she’s too busy looking at her husband with all the shock instead. They never discussed that. And she’s pissed off that he would even bring it up without even consulting her about it.

“Roman, you’re being—”

He ignores her, continuing to direct his warning to their son. “You wanna act grown. You can deal with whatever those consequences are.”

RJ shakes his head, Nova finally looking over at him. She can see it. So much hurt. “So what, I don’t do what you want, and I don’t get to be your son anymore?”

Roman snaps, raising his voice. “You don’t want to be my son now, so what fucking difference does it make?” 

“Roman!” She can’t believe he would say that, can’t believe he could ever fix his mouth to express such a thing to his own flesh and blood. It turns her stomach a little bit. Truly. “Don’t say—”

“It’s alright, mama. That’s who he is. It’s who he’s always been.” The betrayal is seeping through as RJ directs his comment toward her instead of Roman who only continues to look with that same combination of heavy emotions. “I don’t even know why you're still with him” Nova is already at a loss for words at how bad this has gotten, but nothing could have prepared her for what he says next. “Should have left his ass the minute you found out he cheated on you.”

Silence.

Nova’s gaze switches to Roman who seems just as taken back as she feels. How RJ is aware of this, she has no idea. Nor does she know just how much he knows about what really occurred and the complexity of the situation. But, that’s neither here nor there. Because she’s got a whole other issue to handle that’s created with Roman’s next statement. 

“Get the hell out of my house.”

Her eyes snap shut again. 

Shit.

She reaches for his arm. “Roman….”

“No!” He snaps. At her. At RJ. At the situation as a whole that’s reached a higher level of disaster than she could have ever anticipated. “He thinks he knows every fucking thing. Wants to be a man. So let him be a fucking man!”

This is not what their son needs. Far from it. “Roman!”

“Naw, he’s right, mama! I don’t need him!” Her attention switches to her son, who much like his father, is doing a damn good job hiding his hurt at this entire thing. Hiding the open, gaping emotional wound. “I can take care of myself!”

“So do it!” Roman continues, completely honed in on his emotions instead of the logic Nova is trying to desperately instill and impart on them both right now. “Get your own fucking car! Pay your own fucking tuition!” 

“I will!” He yells back. “Acting like this your house when everybody knows mama was the one taking care of your broke ass and everything else until your career kicked off!”

“RJ! That is enough.” All of this has gone too far. “I know you’re upset, but he’s still your fath—”

“He’s nothing to me!” Nova feels like she’s in some sort of simulated reality. One where every single one of her worst fears comes to life and haunts her. Or, maybe that would be more enjoyable than this. “He’s just a narcissistic ass—”

Nova has never had fast reflexes. Ever. Two left feet, poor hand eye coordination. The whole nine yards, but there’s nothing slow about the way in which she jumps in front of Roman who starts to lunge toward their son with nothing good in mind.

Nothing good at all.

“No!” She shouts, hands on his chest, knowing that it’s certainly not her strength restraining him. It’s the fact that he clearly doesn’t want to hurt her. “Roman, no! Please!”

“Let him go! Let him do it!”

“RJ! Shut up now!” Nova snaps, directing some of her own simmering anger to her son. She feels for him, sees the hurt hiding behind the anger, but enough is enough. He’s out of line. 

“Why?” He continues. And Nova is really starting to wonder if he took something, because this is not the son she knows. The child she raised. She never taught or allowed him to be this disrespectful. “You know I’m right! Even uncle Jey said it! Dad is a bit—”

Nova is barely able to process what’s happening until she’s stumbling to the side, Roman having bypassed her. She’s only able to see the moment he shoves RJ who stumbles and falls back, just not on the ground. 

No. A single, small cry pierces the air and causes all three of them to pause, even if for the briefest second.

“Mommy!” Arabella’s cry of pain is slightly muffled under RJ’s heavy body as he quickly moves to roll off his little sister whose face is turned up in pain, her arms reaching out for a source of comfort.

Roman looks devastated. RJ is mortified, and Nova can only rush over to her daughter, quickly lifting and holding her, gently cradling her head as Bella cries into her.

“Mom, I’m sor—”

“No!” Nova snaps. Enough. She’s just had enough. “Both of you get the hell out of my house!”

Roman swallows and steps forward, eyes focused on Bella’s little body as she sobs into Nova’s neck. “Bella—”

“I said I want you out!” She reaffirms, stepping toward her son whose anger has melted away into a stirring pot of guilt. “You come back when you find your goddamn brain.” Angling her body toward her husband, to the man she’s spent so much of her formative years and life with, feeling for the first time in a long time, nothing but disgust. “And you?” Nova is almost certain she feels the moment her heart breaks as she says those infamous words. “Don’t come back at all.”

[3rizu]

Lovely Weapon

Contents: Kwon Jae-Sung x Reader - TW!Death - TW!Blood - Pet names(Sweet girl) - Doomed lovers - ooc

Word Count: 1,242

A/N: There’s one good and one bad ending.

Kwon had noticed you when he first started taking karate, though this was because he saw how close you and Sensei Kim were. He thought because of this that you were a favorite student of hers, he was a little bit right but not so much. But the thing was you were her child though you weren’t necessarily a planned child, luckily your mother didn’t treat you any differently because of it. To no one's surprise, you started taking karate which was led by your mother Sensei Kim, who you called her during training.

Ever since that day, Kwon had neutral feelings over you, this slowly changed when he kept seeing you while you were training. Kwon was like a deer stuck in headlights every time you were training or sparring with the others. Over time Kwon got closer to you much to your mother’s dismay, she knew he was a troublemaker and didn't want that type of influence affecting her daughter.

Did that happen to stop Kwon? Not one bit Kwon only tried harder to get closer to you but you were always so engrossed in training, sparring, or studying. He finally happened to get close to you, only a little bit. Kwon soon became a close friend of yours and he couldn't help but gloat about how he had Sensei Kim's daughter as his friend. Kwon started liking you even more than previously, what had been a tiny crush became someone he wanted to kiss or hold. He was falling hard for you and everyone started noticing it, how Kwon was like a puppy when you were near, especially those lovesick eyes he gave you.

When Kwon had come over to your house, only because he had claimed that he needed “help” with some training (he just wanted to be with you). He had noticed a couple of plushies on your bed, and he didn’t expect you to be a girl who was still sleeping with plushies, (he immediately went to go buy you a plushie after he had left) Kwon had bought you a cat plushie it was a bit big but you didn’t mind and thanked him, so every night you’d now fall asleep with the plushie in your arms.

So slowly Kwon got closer to you and he knew if he didn't say something soon those idiots from karate would. However, Kwon’s plan was interrupted when Sensei Kreese came and told him to prove that was the best fighter in the class and steal Yoon’s spot. It was even worse after Tory came and stole your spot as captain in the Sekai Taikai did you mind? Yes but at least you were still chosen as part of the team going.

Your mother also warmed up to Kwon, she noticed that he wasn't as bad as before now that he was spending time with you. At the tournament, after he had won the rooms from Robby, he immediately went to you and told you about his win.

“Hey! Look what I got!” Kwon yelled to you as you were walking around.

“Kwon? What happened?” You asked him wondering why he seemed so happy.

“Guess what” Kwon asked with a smug look on his face and boy you knew he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

“What did you do, Kwon.” You asked, already getting a bit upset, fearing he’d done something horrible.

“I challenged Miyagi-Do and the prize was some rooms and I won. Like it was so easy.” He said trying to seem confident though he was nervous.

“Kwon, why are you doing this? Just leave them alone, where it matters most is on the mat. You were secretly a bit happy he had challenged them and won.

“But I wanted to ask uhm do you wanna share the room? So you know you don’t have to share with anyone else but me?” He asked, the fact he was nervous became more obvious but you are oblivious to that.

“Yeah, but I’m still upset about your little challenge.”

You were happy to have a bed to yourself even if Kwon was staying in the bedroom with you. Kwon on the other hand was delighted that you said yes to his offer.

Did Kwon get any sleep that night? The answer was barely because he was staring at the peaceful expression you had on while you slept. Kwon knew that he'd have to tell you about his feelings for you, though he didn't want to. He was going to tell you after Cobra Kai won the Sekai Taikai…

Happy Ending

It was almost the end of the Sekai Taikai and fortunately for Cobra Kai, they won. Kwon was satisfied with the results and couldn't help but immediately run to you after his win and he whisked you away somewhere private.

“I need to tell you something.” He said, his palms were all sweaty and his heart was pounding.

“Oh, what is it? You did something you weren’t supposed to before your match?” You asked, you knew Kwon and you wanted to see if he’d say yes.

“No, it’s not that. I didn’t do anything wrong before the match.” He said to you, he was completely honest about his answer.

“Okay, then what is it?” You asked, now curious about what he needed to tell you.

“I like you and I have for a while. Do you feel the same?” He asked, his heart was pounding and he was sure you could hear it with how silent you both were at the moment.

“Kwon, I’m so surprised you admitted it first, you realize I was going to tell you tonight?” You said to him, you were giggling and pleased that he did it first because you were so scared he didn't like you at all.

“This is so unfair, you like me too?” Kwon seemed a bit pissed but he wasn't.

“Yeah, I do.” You kissed his cheek and ruffled his always messy hair.

He looked away from your face knowing he couldn't look at you or else his knees would buckle from your looks alone.

“I'm so glad we won.” You said, your arms wrapping around him as you pulled him into your embrace, hugging him.

“Me too. I like you a lot, sweet girl.” For you, Kwon was all yours to keep.

Bad Endjng

You looked around as every single Dojo was fighting with each other. You were fighting and helping Kwon as much as you could but you saw him get hurt by Axel. Some other girl had dragged you away to fight. You looked as he grabbed onto the eunjando from the floor, you knew he was going to attack Axel but at the moment you were fighting another girl and couldn't get to him in time.

You heard the bloodcurdling scream Kwon let out, and you prayed to any higher being that existed that when Sensei Daniel turned him he'd be okay. You were so wrong. Blood was pooling at the side of Kwon, and once he was turned onto his back the eunjangdo was there in his chest. You stood there frozen as tears fell down your cheeks.

Something you had been planning to do was tell Kwon you liked him. Though, now you would never be able to tell him you had liked him. After all, you had endured with him, this was surely not how he died, right?

A/N: I am not writing any smut bc I don't know Kwon age and also bc I'm not comfortable writing smut for this character

[moonastro]

the vibe you give out to others

pick a picture

left to right(top)-> 1,2

left to right(bottom)-> 3,4

°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes. °Don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post (as i would entirely appreciate it). ° This is a GENERAL reading, take what resonates and leave and pass on what does not!

PILE ONE

someone who can communicate hours on end with someone, usually about the deeper stuff. so you may like to share your thoughts a lot which leaves people guessing that you would be a very good person to talk to. you also are good with reading the vibes of a room, people almost expect you to change the atmosphere of the vibe within a group. you really are someone who solves problems, situation ships and other things people may need assistance with. i feel like you help others grow, you teach people from wrong or right and perform humanitarian acts. if you are in a bad situation, you get the heck out of there as soon as possible, people know that because you may express your thoughts and feeling through communication. i feel like you talk about the little things to others that they might even find that you can be oversharing at times. anyhow, you may look back on what people did you in the past or vice versa. you don't hold onto a thread, you make very clear decisions that take you wherever it may.

yeah, you learn from your mistakes and only go forward which makes you a stronger individual. there is still some youthful energy surrounding this pile, so don't forget to not be hard on yourself all the time, you give out but not necessarily get given back which allows people to use your time unnecessarily. people can also see a child in you, you may get told that you remind someone of their son or daughter. being behind the scenes is what you are used to and may project a certain insecurity that others notice. i feel like its that others see their own insecurities in you as well which may cause jealousy. you are careful though, you plan, you observe and you double check. there is nothing wrong with being in routine but i feel like people notice that you are too afraid of failure because you might have grew up to be the high achieving kid or the oldest child who had influence on the younger siblings and so forth. overall a very sensual and hardworking pile.

assigned song: Black beauty- Lana Del Rey

PILE TWO

very energetic around people or friends and family but think a lot by yourself, you may keep your true self hidden. you are such a good manifester and people notice that whatever you say out loud becomes real. people may call you a psychic because you just know things before others do, for example if a friend asks about something like an event and you just tell them like "watch this happen in there" and something like this and it happening. you are quite reserved with your feeling and emotions, you use them on better things. around you, others feel confident and secure. you are a very good empath and feel whatever others are feeling, so it is very easy to empress ones feelings to you. you are such a caring and observing individual that others feel nothing but security and comfort around you. honestly such a nostalgic pile!!

you crave a free life where you are not stuck to anything or anyone, people feel the freedom you possess. you don't aim to be powerful nor business oriented, you just want to see what's out there and see what other cultures and countries have in store for you. i feel like you have a plan that you have that consists of you travelling abroad and creating a happy home there at a new setting. you are good with legal matters like documents, credit cards, the law and so forth. you may know about it as you may be interesting in becoming a lawyer or working somewhere that involves a law, like police and so on. but on a real note, you balance everything out in your life, people see how well you split your routine in even pieces. overall, this is a very free spirited and intelligent pile!

assigned song: Ride- Lana Del Rey

PILE THREE

someone who reserves there space and energy, someone who talks very cautiously and are aware of their surroundings. a lot of people don't actually know how to figure you out and it may sound very cliché but i think its just because you don't reveal your feelings by making facial expressions and people don't know whether to laugh or cry when you tell them something serious. you might like to do stuff alone and may feel like a burden to others but it is not the case for other people, they see you as a sweet and isolated human being that likes their space and peace. i see a LOTTT of overthinking and just daydreaming in general. i feel like something is restricting you from taking action and i think it is your thoughts, relax pile 3😅. no but for real, others avoid you not because you are unlikable but because they see how you thrive alone and you don't look like the type of person that needs help from others.

you may have moved a lot as a child and felt like you lost many things because of that. i feel like you don't feel secure and people notice the disease you portray in your body language. that is totally not a bad thing but i feel like others see the frustration and a void that you have, this is very deep but I'm getting an image of just a black figure which may translate of you feeling numb or not feeling anything at all. i feel like this was in the past for some of you, however where there is hardships there is hope and that is exactly the case for this pile. on a good note, your smile brings comfort to others, may make others happy with your smile and that's just so sweet. you do have many ideas flooding in your mind and i feel like that could bring you excesses so be careful. you have many ideas to start over or to change your personality completely. overall, this is a very reserved and a busy mind pile!

assigned song: How to Disappear- Lana Del Rey

PILE FOUR

check out pile one if you felt drawn to it as it may resonate with some of you!! so, you care about others very deeply and this gives me motherly vibes. i feel like you may not listen to people and do your own thing but that's entirely okay but the way i see it is that you sometimes need to take advice in order to move forward. you stand your ground fairly and see the contrast between right and wrong, i feel like that gets people thinking how you pick up on things others don't pay much attention to. say if you called someone out for something, others may go like "oh yeah, i didn't even notice". you really cant be bothered to argue with no one, you feel like there is no point because people are childish and immature and that is something you would rather pass on. conflicts and any other sort of fighting is a strict no go for you. people get the vibe of how can you keep your cool??? they actually are very impressed of your skill to maintain your cool😊. i feel like also you go through very transformative periods in your life that actually change your way you act, maybe you go through different eras and like to experiment different styles and ways of living which is totally fine.

wow, you are a very powerful soul, you have some sort of power that others are stunned. you are literally the lion of the jungle, the boss, the CEO, the millionaire, the royal. WOwww just wow. people just keep getting surprise on surprise from you, you may have so many precious hidden facts about you that make people stunned by the fact that you have so much treasure hidden. people see you as a very humble individual who is always there for people and see the good in everyone. it is such a pleasure to be around you, people may feel almost lucky to have you in their life. you hold a lot of secrets as you may stand with he statement that if you talk about your achievements to others it may delay your success. overall, a very very very powerful and mysterious pile.

assigned song: LION- (G)-idle

that's it everyone, thanks for sticking by and like always don't be afraid to interact with this post however you'd like as i entire appreciate everyone's support and kindness!!

FRIENDLY REMINDER- paid tarot readings are available (DM or check out here for more info!!)

*IMAGES ARE NOT MINE*

[badomensbaby]

rules of the road. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: finally getting your driver's license after moving to the big city for college, you're a bit stunned by your dorky, charming driving instructor.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. flirting/flustering, protected smut, praise kink, mommy kink, car sex, safe sane and consensual, explicit sexual content. (driving instructor! luke, racecar driver! luke)

words: 6,307

a/n: one beautiful evening, as i was driving home with a frosty from wendy's balanced in my lap, i saw a student driver vehicle and i was like! hm! what if... and then this kind of happened. i tried to keep a keen eye while editing but if there's an error, feel free to let me know! <3

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

You weren't a typically nervous person.

Growing up in a town where you practically had to just figure it out on your own, nothing really got under your skin. Not tractor maintenance nor harvest schedules, or that nasty little wasp's nest in the cattle barn in the spring.

But tests, those were a different story.

From college entrance exams to applying for your driver's license, those were the types of tests that made your heart race and your palms clam up. Because it was the unknown that bothered you so much. The unfamiliarity.

And, sprinkle in the fact that you'd left the family farm to pursue a college degree into the mix and every worry's been increased tenfold. As the baby of the family, first daughter behind a handful of rowdy, hard-working boys, being the first of your household to attend college was a serious milestone. You could only hope to make your parents and siblings proud.

But moving to the big city meant learning to drive. Well, legally. You've spent countless hours in your father's farm truck or your grandfather's tractor, you weren't necessarily inexperienced when it came to driving but you've never really been surrounded by other drivers. Just gravel roads and grassy two-tracks and your bothers dirt bikes.

The initial exam, a knowledge test about road signs and rules, wasn't too bad. They'd given you a practice test and a helpful guide booklet when you'd arrived at your appointment. It felt odd, being just barely twenty years old and taking a driver knowledge exam alongside kids barely pushing sixteen. You felt behind but it wasn't your fault.

Nerves didn't erupt in your stomach until the kind lady in the Secretary of State's office informed you that you'd be taking an on-road driver skills test. An instructor will watch you, quiz you, and grade you accordingly and if you fail, you can kiss your ability to drive legally goodbye until you pass.

Now that makes you nervous. Like there's ravenous butterflies swarming your stomach. You're already under a lot of pressure with fall classes starting soon and your part-time job, now you're worried about passing your driver's exam. The lady assured you there's nothing to fret over, that the instructor you've been assigned is well versed in the rules of the road and he's a total sweetheart.

Waiting in the parking lot wasn't the worst part. You were told he'd arrive shortly, a man named Mr. Hemmings, in one of the contracted company's instructing vehicles. Plastered with bright yellow stickers along the back, just shouting to everyone on the road that you're an inexperienced driver so take it easy.

Expecting some middle aged, married, grumpy man with nothing positive to say, the nerves weren't so bad as you basked in the moderate heat of the Michigan summer sun. Your phone pings a few times, a slew of good lucks and you've got this! from your family members. You don't even realize there's a stark white Toyota Camry pulling up to the curb until the scuff of shoes on the asphalt catches your attention.

"Y/N L/N?" A thick, low voice questions. A text message to your eldest brother sits unfinished beneath your thumbs, lips parting with shock. There's no bald patch or flat tire sticking out beneath his shirt, hell it barely looks like he's wearing a shirt at all because the white fabric is so snug and pulled taught over his abdomen and chest and arms that it's absolutely ludicrous. "Y/N?" he repeats.

"Yeah- yeah, that's me," You hesitantly stand, shoving your phone in the pocket of your jeans before brushing your now clammy hands along your thighs. His eyes flicker between the clipboard in his hand and you, shamelessly raking up and down your frame before clearing his throat.

"Great," His lips twist into a wide, toothy smile, shoulders seemingly relaxing at the confirmation. His stance laxes, nodding his head of bouncy, golden curls towards the vehicle that's idling behind him. "Why don't we go ahead and get started?"

You nod, swallowing the thick lump forming in your throat, hardly maintaining eye contact with the instructor as you climb into the driver's seat and watch him awkwardly fit himself into the seat beside you. "Okay," He blows out a breath. "I'm Mr. Hemmings but you can just call me Luke, it's easier and nobody likes saying a long name especially if you're in a panic."

You barely manage a short, clipped laugh. "Rad. Anyway, we're gonna be in here for the next hour or so. I'm mainly here to make sure you understand vehicle safety and that you're prepared to operate this beauty on your own," With a laugh, Mr. Hemmings taps the dashboard with his palm. "Well, not this beauty obviously, but you get my point. Oh! And I have break pedals over here just in case. I haven't used them yet this month so please don't put us in a situation where I might need to."

He's funny, you'll admit. In a dorky, charming kind of way. He hasn't stopped smiling the entire time and you're curious if he's just that way in general or if it's a front because he probably deals with some right idiots when it comes to being an instructor. "You're quiet."

"Sorry," You mumble, hands still folded in your lap. "I'm just a bit nervous."

"There's really no need," he assures you, turning in his seat with an excited smile. "If you've passed your vision and knowledge tests then this is like, a cakewalk. Have you driven before?"

"Yeah, back home," You tell him. "Mostly just old trucks, though. I don't think I've ever driven a proper car."

"Cool, car virgin. I like that," Luke turns his attention back to the clipboard, scribbling something that you're unable to make out because it's complete chicken scratch. "Well, why don't we get going so we can stay on track."

"Okay," You breathe out, clasping the seatbelt over your lap. Under your breath, you rattle off the first steps of safety before your hands ever touch the steering wheel. Seatbelt, check. Rearview mirror, check. Side mirrors, check. When everything seems as it should, you rest one hand on the wheel before shifting the vehicle into drive, peering out of the passenger's side mirror to ensure no cars are coming up behind you in the lot.

Luke stays silent, observing you, pen hovering over his checklist sheet. As you head towards the exit, you realize you have absolutely no clue where you're meant to go. "Uhh-"

"Take a left here," Luke tells you. Signaling, you check both ways for any oncoming traffic before exiting the parking lot, keeping an eye on the speed limit signs posted on the side of the road. "And at the next light, hang a right. We'll follow that through downtown and then get you on the highway for a bit."

Nodding, you try to keep yourself composed and not let the nerves get to you as you follow his instruction. You make sure to slow down appropriately as you cruise through the city's downtown area, briefly taking in the brick buildings and shops as you pass.

The vehicle's air is a little stiff, a little warm underneath the summer sun and you're considering asking Luke if he can turn the air on but he's too busy drumming his fingertips along his bare thigh to really pay you any mind. You'd always heard that driving instructors were very observant, overly cautious and very strict about everything but Luke's so laid back it's slowly beginning to relieve your nerves.

"Would you mind turning on the air?" Luke asks, eyes soft and kind when you glance over at him. You're just trekking along behind other vehicles, following signs for the highway that's still a few miles out. It's probably one of the things on his checklist, for you to tinker with something and hope it doesn't distract you enough to cause any accidents.

Glancing at the various knobs, luckily they're standard and simple, similar to your father's truck so pressing two buttons quickly has cool air flowing into the car. You feel a little more at ease, less of an iron grip on the steering wheel. "You're doing great, by the way." Luke chimes in.

"Thanks," You keep an eye on the Jeep that keeps randomly breaking in front of you, easing off of the accelerator when applicable. You weren't a newbie when it came to driving itself, just following the actual road laws and learning the flow of traffic. "I need to turn right up here?" You ask.

Luke hums with a nod. He's began muttering some tune under his breath along with his finger-drumming, as if he isn't remotely worried about you merging onto the highway. Picking up speed, you join alongside the few cars rumbling along the road. "We'll take this to the next town over, about thirty minutes, then we'll head back and do a few simple maneuvers and that's it."

You nod, fighting the urge to sigh. Who knew your road test would be so boring? There's no music, just the sound of your tires on the asphalt and Luke's low humming. "Why'd you decide to become an instructor? Isn't it- well, boring?"

A slow chuckle slips out of your instructor's mouth, elbow perched on the door, hand clasped against the side of his face. "It's not all boring, I swear. I just like helping people become confident drivers. You'd be surprised how many students I've had that are too terrified to even start the engine."

"You're pretty laid back, it's definitely making me less nervous," You laugh softly, keeping your eyes on the empty road. "Helps that you're not bad looking either."

Shit, you weren't meant to say that.

In your peripheral, you can see Luke squirm slightly in his seat, instantly worrying that you've made him uncomfortable. You're about to retract your statement and apologize but the grin that overtakes his pink lips stops you. "Thank you," he says honestly, his tone a little strained. "So are you. I mean, I wouldn't say not bad looking, you're pretty- like quite pretty- and okay, is it a little warm in here? Jeez."

You stifle a laugh at his nervous rambling. It's cute, kind of refreshing, too. But a weight settles in your stomach because no, you absolutely cannot think your driving instructor is cute. Doesn't that cross some kind of line? Break a rule? It has to. "So- are you uh.. getting your driver's license to.. drive to your boyfriend's house orr.."

Oh god, he's also pretty damn terrible at flirting. Normally, you'd find it cringey and a tad obnoxious but it's cute on him. Adorable, even, because he's definitely a handful of years older than you but he flusters so easily it makes your confidence soar.

There's nothing wrong with indulging in it, is there? It's not like you're gonna fuck him on the side of the highway or anything.

"No boyfriend," You keep a straight face, like you're intently focused on the billboards you pass by. "Or girlfriend." You tack on, just to see him flounder a little more.

"Oh- yeah, rad," Luke nods a few times. "That's- yeah, okay, cool."

God, he's so fucking cute. How'd you get so damn lucky to have him as an instructor?

Luke's tapping the window ledge aimlessly, almost looking uncomfortable but not with you, like something's gnawing at him. "Hey, can you pull off at this rest stop for a minute? I need to- uh- bathroom. Yeah."

"Sure." You signal off, slowing down as you near the small building, only a few cars scattered in the parking lot. Luke quickly unbuckles himself and slips out of the car, almost too fast for you to realize there's a tent in his shorts. Well, fuck.

You've never really been the hook-up type in the past, coming from such a small town there's slim pickings when you know everyone's faults. Only when your family would travel up to Mackinac Island or down to Kalamazoo to visit family would you end up fooling around with some local for an afternoon but that didn't happen very often.

Though the circumstances aren't ideal, there's obviously some kind of attraction on both sides. Probably just some silly short-term infatuation and who knows what's running through Luke's mind. But he's hot, there's no denying that, and guilt tugs at your chest because he's here to do a job and you're just being a massive distraction.

Luke returns about fifteen minutes later, a little flushed in the face but there's this look he's sporting that looks nothing short of pure bliss. You're not stupid, you can recognize a post-orgasm haze from a million miles away.

God, did he really get off in a public rest stop bathroom? What the hell was he so worked up over? You bite back any inappropriate questions lingering on your tongue as he buckles himself in and you merge back onto the highway.

Luke doesn't say a word until it's time to circle back. He's quiet, too quiet, thrumming his fingers against his knee in a rhythm you aren't able to recognize. You decide to go the exact speed limit, setting the cruise control and waiting for Luke to ask why you've done that but no such comment comes.

"You okay?" You finally ask. The two of you are trapped in here for at least another thirty minutes on the highway alone, then likely another twenty or thirty around town after that. The silence isn't deafening but it's making you a little uneasy.

"Me? Yeah- I'm great. Fantastic, actually. Why wouldn't I be? Nothing's wrong. Everything's peachy." The instructor rambles.

Something's definitely wrong. You're not a very confrontational person but you'd rather have whatever issue at hand out in the open than let it linger silently the remainder of your test. "Luke-"

As you're getting his attention, the car begins to splutter. Numerous lights illuminate the dashboard, a loud rumbling sound making the steering wheel shake beneath your hands. Immediately, Luke begins to press on the emergency instructor's breaks and with some guidance, he helps you pull off on the shoulder just as the engine dies.

Not believing the sight before you, you turn to Luke, who's equally as shocked and silent, both of your chests heaving. "What the hell?" You ask aloud.

"I have no clue," Luke says frantically. "The car's been running fine all day. There weren't any warning lights, were there?"

Truthfully, you don't remember. "I don't.. think so? All of them lit up before it crapped out."

"Shit," Luke curses lowly. "Let me see if I can figure out what's going on."

Luke slips out of the Camry, leaving his clipboard behind. You hear him yell, muffled, "Pop the hood!" And you do, after taking a second to find the button with your shaky fingers.

The longer Luke is beneath the hood the longer you worry. It's an early Thursday evening, on a fairly quiet highway, and the likelihood that some passerby is going to offer assistance is slim. Plus, tow trucks in this area only operate within a ten mile radius, so it's unlikely you'll find one for a reasonable price if the car is toast.

This is what you get for thinking he's cute, your brain tosses at you. You know it isn't true but it's kind of ironic, isn't it?

Luke slips back inside the car. "Well, one of the hoses broke," He sighs, digging through the pockets of his shorts in search of his cellphone. "So the car won't start even if we wanted it to. We'll have to call a tow truck."

"Of course this would happen during my driving exam," You sigh, eyes fluttering shut as a low, frustrated groan crawls up your throat. "Just my luck."

"I probably shouldn't include the fact that I have no service then, should I?"

Your eyes pry open. "What?" You ask, finding your phone and sure enough, no fucking signal. "Seriously? We're on the damn highway, not in the middle of the ocean!"

"Hey, we'll be fine," Luke rests his hand momentarily on your shoulder and you try to ignore the goosebumps rising on your skin. Sheepishly, he pulls it away. "I'll see if I can make an emergency call to highway patrol."

"Please do," You mumble weakly.

Your father would have a field day if he could see you. Barely a week into living away from them and you're stranded on the side of the highway with a hot driving instructor. What a joke.

With no luck, Luke groans, tossing his phone onto the dashboard. "My phone died," he says. "Can you call on yours?"

"Yeah," You dial using your phone's emergency function, only to be met with CALL FAILED in big letters. "How the hell can an emergency call fail?"

"Okay, well at least we've both probably eaten recently and I keep snacks in the trunk," You toss a glare towards the blonde, not finding his statement remotely relieving at all. "What? Teenagers get grumpy so I always have granola bars on hand."

"So we're stuck," You sigh softly. Luke nods, hands toying with one another. "Until I get signal or someone passing by takes pity on us."

"I'm sorry Y/N," Luke says quietly. "About- about all of this. I really had no idea, this car's never given me any problems."

"It's not your fault," You glance over at him, noticing his lower lip tucked between his teeth. "I'm gonna walk a bit and see if I can get signal, alright?"

"You shouldn't go alone," Luke says, a bit rushed. "I mean, not that you aren't capable or anything because I'm sure you are - female empowerment and all that I just- uh-"

"Just stay here," You say, a little clipped. You aren't upset with him, just the situation. "I'll be right back."

Luke swallows thickly, blue eyes wide. "Yes m'am."

You slip out of the car and begin walking along the shoulder, grass and gravel crunching beneath your feet, checking your cellphone every few seconds in hopes that a signal will appear. A big fat SOS stares back at you, practically mocking you.

After ten or so minutes, you aren't sure how far you've walked but you can't see the Camry anymore. You know it'll cool off soon as the sun begins to set and it'll be best if you're somewhere safe. Regretfully, you head back to the car to find Luke scribbling on his clipboard in the passenger seat.

"Nothing," You say, checking your phone once more, noticing it's been about thirty minutes since you've pulled off the road. "What're you drawing over there?"

"Just doodling," He says, showing you a mix of scribbles along the bottom of your driving checklist. "What else am I supposed to do? We're stuck for the time being."

"Yeah, you're right."

It's silent for a few minutes, aside from Luke's been inking the checklist. "We could.. play a game, maybe? Something to keep our minds off of.. y'know, the whole car breaking down thing."

"What kind of game?" You ask.

"Oh- uh, twenty questions?" Luke offers.

You snort. Twenty questions is for horny teenagers, not two almost-strangers stuck in a broken down vehicle on the side of the highway. "Guess that's a no."

"What about what are the odds?" You suggest. "I played it all the time with my soccer friends, it's pretty fun."

"Okay," Luke agrees. "You'll have to explain the rules to me, though."

You sit up a little straighter, a smile unknowingly tugging at your lips. Maybe there's an ulterior motive ping-ponging in the back of your mind. Maybe.

"It's really easy. One of us says something like 'what are the odds that you'll make an embarrassing noise', then pick a number in your head, and on the count of three we'll both say a number and if it's the same the other person has to do that thing. Make sense?"

"I think I've got it," Luke nods, turning in his seat with excited eyes. He looks fucking adorable. You shake your head, getting comfortable in the seat. "Okay, can I go first?"

"Go for it."

"Okay- uh, what are the odds that you'll.. you'll- tell me something about yourself?"

That's not quite it but a good start, Luke.

"One through fifteen." You say. "Three.. two... one.."

"Ten."

"Twelve."

"Ah, shit," Luke frowns. "I don't think I'm very good at this."

"You'll get the hang of it," You tap his knee with the back of your hand without a thought, watching his cheeks twinge pink. "I'll go. What are the odds you'll pass me?"

"One in.. ten," Luke says. "Three.. two.. one.."

"Six."

"Six."

"Aha!" You grin, victoriously. "See, I'm a mindreader."

"As if I'd flunk you," Luke rolls his eyes. "You're a good driver, Y/N. You need to be a little more confident but there's no way I'd fail you."

You need to be a little more confident. Sure, Luke was talking about driving but that doesn't mean you can't apply that statement to anything else, right?

"Alright, my turn," Luke rolls his lips in thought. "What are the odds that.. you'd be my friend on Facebook?"

"Facebook?" You ask, a brow raised. "Nobody uses Facebook anymore, Luke."

"I do," Luke defends softly, shoulders drawing inward. "Just play along, Y/N."

"Okay, fine," You laugh softly. "Uhh, one in ten. Three.. two.. one.."

"Four."

"Eight."

"Damn, looks like we won't be Facebook friends," You tease, the flush still bright and red and pretty on Luke's cheeks. He's so easy to fluster. You almost regret what you're about to say. "What are the odds you'll admit the real reason we stopped at the rest area?"

Luke's face falls. "I.." He glances away from you, clearly caught off guard and there's a stinging in your chest. You should've just kept your mouth shut, he didn't deserve to be called out like that.

"I'm so sorry, that was too far, I-"

"It's..okay," Luke lets out a wavering breath. "I feel really bad about that," Your brows furrow. "Look I- I think you're really pretty and this is so, so unprofessional of me but I uh- you said girlfriend and my mind just- went off on it's own. I'm sorry."

"Oh," Your mouth feels dry all of a sudden. "You were thinking of me with- oh."

Luke looks away, clearly embarrassed, a blush blooming down his neck. "I'm sorry, Y/N. It was really inappropriate and I shouldn't have."

"It's okay," You assure him. Luke looks like a kicked puppy, unsure as his eyes slowly meet yours, not quite believing you. "Seriously, it's fine. I- yeah, I'm also into girls. I don't blame you for your.. thoughts, or whatever."

Luke sucks in a sharp breath, like you've said something sinfully explicit. "I- maybe we should end the game here before I say something really stupid."

He isn't covert about it, covering his growing hard-on, beginning to tent his shorts. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, trailing along the inside of your lower lip. Fuck, you have quite the opportunity here and it would be a shame if you let it go to waste. Consensually, of course.

"You're thinking about me with a girl again, aren't you?" You boldly accuse, your eyes narrowing in a teasing manner, watching Luke's gentle blue eyes widen and mouth fall open. "It's okay if you are."

He's so.. submissive. You've never really explored the whole dynamic of positions like that but making your instructor blush and squirm makes you feel.. hot.

"Maybe," Luke's voice is small, soft, and you're loving every second of it. "Y/N, I-"

"What're you thinking about, Luke?" You ask, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the center console, your tone low. "Me kissing another girl, maybe? Getting all hot and bothered and messy and wet?"

A whimper crawls up his throat. "I- fuck."

You trail a finger along his thigh, tracing the leg of his shorts. "Maybe you'd just watch, huh?" You provoke him, watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah- I would.." His voice is weak, lips parting and soft little pants escaping them. He's so easy for it, you love it. The dominance rolling off of you in waves seems to come naturally and who are you to deny it? "Y/N.."

"What, Luke? What do you need?"

Need. Luke keens. "I.. can I.."

"You wanna touch yourself?" You ask.

"No.. you, please."

You hum. How can you say no, when he sounds so wrecked like that? "Think there's enough room for us in the back there?"

"Don't wanna.. move," Luke mumbles, eyes already glazed over. He's so far gone. "My lap?"

You won't toy with him anymore, not when he's offering to get you off. To touch you. God, his fingers are beautiful and long and you're dying to have them buried inside of you. "Yeah, 'kay." You puff out, watching Luke adjust himself properly and helping guide you to sit in his lap, your knees on either side of his hips.

It isn't ideal but it'll work. He works with shaky, excited hands to unfasten the button and zipper of your jean shorts before trailing his fingers along the waistline of your underwear. "Can I?" You nod, teeth sinking into your lower lip in anticipation.

Without hesitance, Luke dips his hand into the waistband, finding your damp heat with ease. His fingers curl around you, whimpering at the warmth before a finger slips inside of you, slick and velvety. "Oh- fuck."

"Luke," You moan out softly, clasping a hand on the instructor's shoulder. He carries a steady pace, sliding a second finger beside the first, brutally hard at the warmth coating his digits. "Fuck, feels so good."

"You're so wet," He mumbles, like he's surprised, peering up at your blissed out features. "Fuck, did I- did I do this to you?"

"Yes," Your hips shift greedily, making his fingers sink deeper into you. "You're just so.."

"So?" You can feel his breath against your collarbone through your shirt.

"So needy," You moan, rotating your hips, effectively riding Luke's fingers, like he's some kind of toy. "It's so hot, how hard you get so easily- I- fuck, there."

"Y/N," Luke pants against you, his free hand trailing up to your hip, holding tightly. "Wanna make you cum, please."

"Yeah?" You breathe out. "Gonna let me ride your fingers? Fuck myself until I cum?"

"Oh god," Luke trembles, his movements faltering but it doesn't matter, you're moving steadily and the more you shift the more his fingers hit that perfect spot. You can feel it in your toes, that you're close, but you need something else to get you there.

"Did you think about me?" You ask, a light sweat forming on your brow. "When you got off in the bathroom? Did you moan for me?"

"Yes," Luke admits in a whine. "Yes- fucking- came so hard, Y/N. Thought of you the whole time."

Just thinking about Luke, working his cock so quickly in his fist thinking about you is enough, warmth flooding your stomach as your orgasm rapidly approaches and you're releasing all over Luke's fingers. Like a fucking floodgate.

"Oh fuck," You hear him moan, fingers slowing as your hips come to a halt. "Fuck, Y/N."

Blissful and warm and flushed, Luke retracts his fingers from you, the digits glistening as he slips them into his mouth with needy, complacent hums. He looks more wrecked than you do.

"Can I- can I ride you?" You blurt.

Luke goes rigid. "What?"

"I wanna ride you," You reiterate. "I wanna fuck you, Luke. Can I?"

"You- yeah, fuck of course," Luke's eyes are blue and glassy and glazed and you aren't even sure how he's functioning right now. He hasn't even cum yet so- wait. "Just give me a minute.."

Curiously, you shift back a bit on his lap to see he's half-hard and there's an obvious damp patch on the front of his shorts. "Did you cum while you were touching me?"

Luke nods. "Sorry."

"Fuck that's so hot," You can't help it, fitting both hands beneath his jaw to tilt his head upward, capturing his lips easily with your own. He tastes like spearmint gum and flavored coffee, it's all you can think about when you feel his tongue swipe across your bottom lip. That was too easy, you can already feel his dick fattening against your thigh again. "Do you have a condom?"

"In my wallet," Luke pants against your mouth. "I wasn't like- expecting this, by the way."

"Neither was I," You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Let me get my shorts off."

Car sex seems so hot in theory until you're caught up in the moment and you're stuck trying to take off clothing where it's just not possible. You manage to slip your shorts off, leaving your damp underwear on before claiming Luke's lap once again. The condom sits in the crevice between his thigh and hip, fly open and dick straining against the seam of his boxers.

"Get yourself ready for me," You tell him softly, your fingertips trailing along your lower abdomen, along the inside of your shirt to cup your breasts beneath your bra. Luke's in a trance, nearly swallowing his own tongue before nodding and barely wiggling his shorts and boxers down his hips. He slips the condom on, abandoning the foil packet god knows where, before stroking himself a few times with a gentle hiss. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

Luke squirms at that. "Thank you," he mutters. "Can I- are you ready?"

"So ready," He carefully aligns his hips with yours before slowly pressing inside, letting out tiny whimpers with every inch he sinks in. "Fuck."

"Y/N," Luke moans, eyes threatening to fall shut. His hands find your thighs, blunt nails digging into the soft skin there, hips threatening to rut upwards at the sheer warmth encasing his cock. It's immeasurable, how good you feel wrapped snugly around him.

"So good, Luke, you're doing so good," You praise gently, holding yourself upright with your hands on his broad shoulders. Once he's buried to the hilt, you slowly rock your hips in a circle, eliciting a short gasp from the blonde. "Such a good boy."

The simple phrase makes Luke choke on his own breath. "You're so warm," he mumbles, lips barely moving, chest rising and falling steadily. You rock your hips again. "Oh my god."

Luke isn't like the guys you've slept with before. He's sensitive and responsive and it's probably the hottest thing you've ever witnessed. It's like he's fighting the urge to give in. Slowly, you begin to bounce in his lap, testing the waters. Luke moans every time you sink down.

"Yeah?" You ask him after a particularly whiny moan falls from his mouth. "Feel good, Luke? Tell me. Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels so good," He babbles, a wheezy, whining mess every bounce you make. It's slick and wet and so fucking hot you know you'll cum again sometime soon. He's hitting all the right spots inside of you. It helps he's probably the biggest dick you've taken by far. "So good. Please don't stop, please."

"Not gonna stop," You mutter, nails sinking into the skin of his shoulders. "You're such a good boy, Luke. Taking it so well. Feel so good inside me."

Luke lets out a squeak when you clench around him. "Mommy-"

Your hips falter briefly but you can't stop, you refuse, because that word, though you've never been called that before it lights a flame inside of your stomach that makes you want more and more and more. "Yeah?" You abandon your grip on one of his shoulders to clasp his jaw, making Luke meet your eyes, his half lidded and cloudy and dark blue. "Gonna let mommy fuck you, Luke? Ride your cock until she cums?"

Luke bites down on his lower lip so hard he swears he can taste blood. His head is swirling, like yours, all fuzzy and fucked dumb. Your pace grows quicker, a bit more focused but frenzied, until Luke's panting to the point where he's babbling words that don't even make any sense. "Gonna- please- need-"

"What, Luke? What do you need?" You ask, ghosting your lips over his own. He whimpers against your mouth.

"Wanna cum, mommy. Can I?"

"Yeah baby," You press a hard kiss to his mouth, pushing your tongue past his lips and that's all he needs, gripping your thighs tightly until he's fully inside of you before releasing into the condom. Luke slumps slightly, clearly spent but you're far from finished. "Stay still, won't you?"

"What-" Luke mutters, flushed and confused when you begin to raise your hips and sink back down on him. "Oh fuck me."

"So close, Luke," He isn't softening in the slightest. It almost makes you smile, makes you proud because he's so turned on, just letting you use him like some kind of fuck toy. "Touch me?"

Luke nods, blissed out, attaching his thumb to your clit and rubbing furious, hard circles. Your thighs tremble as your orgasm builds up, toes curling inside of your shoes before finally letting go and releasing all over his length.

Shuddering through the warmth spreading up the base of your spine, your nails sink into the instructor's shoulders, panting against his mouth as he tips his head up to connect your lips in a soft kiss. Your skin feels tingly in the best way, electric, and your head swarming furiously.

Luke pulls away first. He's so flushed, from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck and you're positive that pretty pink blush has reached his naval, there's no doubt. He's definitely a full-body blusher. "Y/N.."

"Yeah?" You ask quietly, breathless, noticing the windows have fogged up a little bit from your activities.

"Can you.. sorry, it's just uh- the condom's a bit uncomfortable." The blonde grimaces apologetically, reddening further when you muffle out a short laugh and slowly climb off of him. Your underwear are soaked, from your own release, but you slide your shorts back on anyways as Luke ties off the condom and places it hesitantly on the floorboard.

Now that the two of you are dressed, less short on breath, you figure it might be best to address what the hell just happened. "Luke-"

"Y/N-"

"Sorry, go ahead," You mumble.

"I wasn't- planning that. Or, expecting it, I swear," Luke says rather quickly, eyes flitting away from you, a bit embarrassed. "Please don't think I make a habit of this. You're- you're the first."

You swallow harshly. "The first?"

A nervous, awkward laugh tumbles out of Luke's mouth. "No, no, that was a girlfriend in high school. I mean- uh- student."

"Oh," You puff out a relieved breath, resting your head back. You're still warm and relaxed from your orgasms. "Well in that case, I don't really sleep with driving instructors, so I guess it's a first for both of us."

"It's not.." Luke trails off, his voice low, like he isn't sure how to phrase what he's thinking. "It won't be the only time, will it?"

That comes as a bit of a surprise to you. Again, you weren't really the hook-up type but the guys you have hooked up with in the past were quick to forget it even happened and move on with their lives.

You're stunned into a short silence. Will that be the only time you hook up with Luke? Sure, he's funny, and insanely attractive, but aside from the few things you've shared during the drive he's still almost a complete stranger.

"I understand," Luke quietly says.

"No I- sorry, I was just- surprised," You say. "I'd like to see you again. Maybe not in a broken down car on the side of the highway."

Luke chuckles briefly. "Okay, cool," The tension seems to slip from his shoulders. "Sorry, I'm not really good at this. I don't really uh- date? Just, with work and everything it's hard to find the time."

"Being a driving instructor is that demanding?" You inquire, a lighthearted teasing lift to your voice. The highway is still dead silent and the sun is slowly beginning to set. Soon, you'll be cast in a hue of pinks and oranges and pretty purples.

"I race for a living," Luke says, catching your attention abruptly, your brows furrowing in confusion. "It's not something I really bring up in conversation or during uh- other things."

"You're not like, a Nascar driver or something, right?" You joke. Luke stays silent. "What the fuck?"

Way to go, Y/N. Fucking a driving instructor slash Nascar driver. Your parents would be so proud. Stupid girl.

"Like I said, I don't really tell people," Luke quickly defends, swallowing as an anxious look perturbs his features. "This doesn't uh- change anything right? About seeing me again?"

"No but if my dad finds out you're gonna be forced into every Sunday dinner until you're dead," You speak without thinking, still shocked about Luke's line of work. And here you were thinking he was just a dorky driving instructor for the state of Michigan. "Sorry, that was weird."

Luke laughs, shaking his head. He took your comment well, like too well, and you're starting to think maybe Luke isn't real at this point. He's too.. perfect. Handsome, dorky, a fucking racecar driver. "You're fine, I get it. Your dad's a big fan, then?"

"Huge," You sigh. "My brothers, too."

"You think they'd come to a race if I set aside some tickets?" Luke's teeth sink into his bottom lip, a hopeful look on his splotchy, pink face.

"I- I mean yeah," You stumble. "Luke, you really don't have to.."

"I want to," He reassures you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I really wanna see you again and if free tickets is the way I can then, I'd be dumb not to offer."

"For the record, I'd see you again regardless of the free tickets," You tell him, leaning to rest your elbows on the console. One of his eyebrows arch curiously, in a way that's so damn hot and Luke doesn't even realize it.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"Yeah," You confirm. "By the way-"

You're cut off by the chirping of a siren, glancing out of the rearview mirror to see a State Trooper has parked behind you, lights flashing.

Well fuck. This'll be fun.