tomacchio when???

You take the main bully from a beloved movie franchise, blonde guy, douchebag, deadbeat dad, alcoholic, guy who peaked in high school, and you give him the chance to change.

And slowly, over the course of a few seasons, you see him become a better dad. A better partner. A better husband. A better friend. A better person.

(He’s actually my favorite character of the whole tv show, which is funny, because in the first movie I want to hit him with a brick)

And meanwhile, the supposed “hero” of the story, the original movie franchise’s main character, slowly becomes more and more the annoying because he doesn’t change. By the story’s original standards, he is “good”. He’s got this golden boy, can-do-no-wrong mentality.

But then they both learn from each other and continue growing, because that’s what good writing is. Because they’re human. And then Danny goes a little dark side, Johnny sees the light.

And—I cannot stress this enough—they do this while in their late middle aged years, with sooooo much karate stunt work I’m surprised no one needed a hip replacement??? Wasn’t Ralph Macchio in his sixties??????

But all jokes aside, it feels like the show’s way of telling you that it’s never too late.

I could yap about the dynamics of this show for hours, not even touching the side of the teenaged main characters as well—I’m just super obsessed with the fact that every person in this show is given the chance to be the hero, the villain, and then given the option to change, to prove that redemption is always an option.

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ When the Lights Go Out

Teddy Cuba x girlfriend!reader

˙⋆✮ ˙ summary: Teddy goes through a lot, but you are there for him no matter the outcast

˙⋆✮ ˙ warning: Angst & fluff

˙⋆✮ ˙ a/n: hiiii. yes i do. i thought you were request for chachi arcola bc with "what what what" lmfao. but yesss i do. i really hope you like this. this is just the first thought of Teddy I thought of so i wrote it. enjoy!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The apartment was quiet.

Too quiet.

You stood in the tiny kitchen, absentmindedly stirring a mug of tea that had long since gone cold. The old clock above the stove ticked louder with every passing second.

Teddy was late.

Again.

You tried not to think about why.

The lock finally clicked.

The front door creaked open, and Teddy stepped inside.

His shoulders were slumped beneath his leather jacket, his dark curls messy like he'd been running his hands through them all night. There was a fresh bruise beginning to bloom along his jaw.

Your heart sank.

"You said you'd be home by nine."

He didn't answer.

Instead, he quietly shut the door behind him and avoided your eyes as he tossed his keys onto the table.

"Teddy."

"I'm fine."

"You've got blood on your sleeve."

He looked down as if he'd only just noticed.

"It's not mine."

That wasn't comforting.

You crossed the room until you were standing in front of him.

"You keep saying you're fine."

"I am."

"No, you're surviving."

For a moment, something flickered across his face.

Exhaustion.

Fear.

Maybe both.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I don't wanna drag you into all this."

"You didn't drag me anywhere." Your voice softened. "I chose to be here."

He let out a humorless laugh.

"You deserve somebody normal."

"I don't want normal."

"Tough luck. I don't think I remember what normal even looks like."

Silence settled between you.

You reached up carefully, brushing your thumb near the bruise on his cheek.

He flinched.

Not from you.

From habit.

Your chest tightened.

"...Does it hurt?"

"I've had worse."

"I know."

That was the problem.

He had.

Far too many times.

You gently took his hand and led him toward the worn-out couch.

"Sit."

He obeyed without arguing, which worried you even more.

You disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a small first-aid kit.

"You don't have to—"

"I know."

You knelt in front of him, dampening a cloth before carefully cleaning the scrape near his temple.

He hissed quietly.

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

Neither of you spoke for a while.

The only sound was the faint traffic outside the apartment window.

Finally, Teddy broke the silence.

"I hate when you look at me like that."

You paused.

"Like what?"

"Like you're worried I'm gonna disappear."

You swallowed.

"I am."

His eyes met yours then.

Really met them.

"I keep waiting for the phone to ring," you admitted. "Or for someone to knock on the door with bad news."

His expression crumpled.

He reached for your hand before you could pull away.

"I don't want you living like that."

"Then come home."

"I try."

"I know."

Your voice cracked despite your best effort.

"I know you try."

For the first time that night, Teddy's walls came down.

"I'm tired," he whispered.

Not physically.

Just... tired.

Tired of looking over his shoulder.

Tired of pretending everything was under control.

Tired of carrying the weight of expectations that were never really his to begin with.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around him.

At first, he stayed completely still.

Then, slowly—

Almost cautiously—

He hugged you back.

His face disappeared into your shoulder as he exhaled a shaky breath.

You held him tighter.

"You don't have to be strong every second," you murmured.

He laughed quietly, though it sounded closer to a sob.

"I kinda forgot that."

"You can remember with me."

Another long silence.

This one didn't feel empty.

It felt safe.

After a while, you leaned back just enough to look at him.

"You hungry?"

A tiny smile appeared.

"...Always."

"I figured."

"I was hoping you'd make grilled cheese."

"I was already planning on it."

"You read my mind."

"I've had lots of practice."

He smiled a little wider this time—the kind that reached his eyes, if only for a moment.

As you stood to head toward the kitchen, Teddy caught your wrist.

You turned back.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Not just for the bandages.

Not just for dinner.

For staying.

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"You don't have to thank me for loving you."

His eyes closed for a second.

And for the first time all day, the apartment didn't feel so heavy.

Outside, the city kept moving.