#he has suffered worse than jesus

[tacoreib]

ou I miss him badly.

[crimescrimson]

Chloe Price in Life Is Strange (2015)

[ssaraexposs]

He really shouldn't be this pretty

[noscio]

so i just got TGCF 6

[teaboot]

As someone who learnt english as a second language via textbook, I have to say "flying by the seat of my pants" is a hilarious idiom xD

It's the first time I've seen/heard it.

Could you share another one you like using?

Idk about idioms specifically, but there's a bunch of phrases I learned from my mom!

Lord love a duck! (Incredulous, like 'oh my god')

Lord suffer in sheep dip! (Sheep dip meaning sheep poop. Incredulous, but for annoying things- like 'are you kidding me?')

Is there a piano tied to your ass? ('Don't be lazy, do it yourself')

Someone's cruising for a bruising. (You're picking a fight.)

I don't give a rat's rip. ('I don't care'- a rat's 'rip' is it's butt crack.)

Pull up a stump! (Get yourself a chair, sit down.)

Everybody out of the pool! (Get out of the car)

I'm flying by the seat of my pants. (I have no idea what I'm doing, but I'm doing it.)

Don't go blowing smoke up my ass. (Don't over-compliment me, don't flatter me, don't stroke my ego, don't tell me positive lies)

Looks like it's gonna rain on our parade. (A storm is coming.)

Sorry to rain on your parade. (I've given you bad news- can be used sincerely or sarcastically to denote sympathy for incurring a bad mood.)

Better button that lip. (Stop talking.)

Someone's gonna stick a boot up your ass. ('Stick a boot up your ass'- fight you, beat you, kick your ass.)

Stick that lip out any further, and a pigeon'll shit on it. (Stop whining.)

Suck it up, buttercup. (Stop whining.)

Dumber than a fence post. (Very stupid.)

The back forty. (The wild or forested area behind a rural home. The 'forty' being forty acres, or farmland.)

Don't go begging for a fat lip. (Whatever you're saying or doing is going to bother people and get you in trouble.)

What on God's green earth (What the fuck)

I'm sweating like a pig in a porta-potty (like a pig in a plastic outhouse- I'm very warm, it's hot here)

He thinks the universe flew out of his ass. (He thinks he's more impressive than he is.)

Your mouth wrote a cheque your ass couldn't cash. (You promised more than you were capable of providing.)

You've got a horseshoe up your ass. (You're very, very lucky.)

Taking a dirt nap. (Dead.)

Pushing (up) daisies. (Dead.)

Give me forty acres to turn this rig around. (I need time and space to move this large, heavy, or unwieldy thing. Usually about navigating a vehicle. Taken from a song lyric.)

Jesus take the wheel. (God help me, I can't handle this, I give up.)

Gone belly-up. (Has died.)

We've got a floater. (This one is dead.)

Herding cats. (Trying to organize chaos, managing an impossibly complicated situation.)

I've got a black thumb. (I am bad at growing plants, all my plants die- reference to having a 'green thumb', or being good at growing plants.)

Stop trackin' floor cookies. (Floor cookies are bits of animal shit that fall off your work boots- 'tracking floor cookies' means wearing your boots in the house; take your shoes off at the door.)

Running around like a headless chicken. (Frantic, disorganized, stressed out by many tasks or panicked by a big situation.)

Spinning my wheels. (Waiting around for something to happen, getting nowhere, frustrated by inactivity, not making any progress towards a goal.)

He's gonna blow a gasket. (He's going to lose his temper, he's going to be angry.)

They'll tan your hide. (They'll punish you severely; usually through violence. Specifically in reference to a spanking.)

He's a few bricks short a load. (He's not clever / he doesn't think things through / he's crazy)

Not the sharpest tool in the shed. (Not the smartest person. Very dumb, clumsy, or absent-minded.)

I'm not going to bail you out. (Not going to save your sinking boat- not going to help you out of your bad situation.)

Looks like things are going south. (The situation is growing worse.)

I'll start making tracks. (I'll leave now, I'll start working, I'll get going.)

He's fucking the dog. (He's not being productive, he's doing a bad job, he's made things worse, he's screwing around.)

He's making puppies. (Less graphic version of 'fucking the dog'.)

Plant your ass. (Sit.)

Playing grab-ass. (Procrastinating- accomplishing nothing, slowing people down.)

He couldn't find his ass in the dark. (He's stupid, ineffective, underqualified, or incompetent.)

He couldn't pour water out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel. (He is unbelievably, comically dumb or ineffective. He can't do anything right.)

One foot in the ground. (Dying, or half-dead.)

I'm kicking rocks. (I'm not doing anything productive.)

I'm hauling ass. (I'm running away.)

Madder than a wet hen. (Very, very angry.)

Like I said I'm not sure that these are all idioms but they're all the phrases and sayings from my childhood that I can remember right now

EDIT: Cannot BELIEVE I forgot my mom's favourite

52. Wish in one hand, shit in the other, see which gets filled first. (Wishes don't come true by themselves)

Plus some more I forgot:

53. You make a better door than a window. (You're in the way of my view.)

54. You can take a long walk off a short pier. (Go fuck yourself.)

55. He's about as sharp as a bowling ball. (He's stupid.)

56. Scoot your poot. (Move over.)

57. Not my first rodeo. (I know what I'm doing.)

58. He's built like a brick shithouse. (He's broad and sturdy and very strong, solid.)

59. I smell bacon. (I saw a cop nearby.)

60. I don't want to hear a peep. (Stop talking.)

61. You're thinking with the wrong head. (You're making bad decisions because you're horny.)

62. I'd lose my ass/head if it wasn't tied on. (I'm very absent-minded, forgetful.)

63. That went down like a lead balloon. (That situation was bad.)

[bluesidez]

The Love Lab presents:

Boyfriend is to Husband

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader

summary: How would Miguel react if you did the “calling my bf my husband” trend? 🤔

content warning: It gets a little suggestive, but other than that, it’s fluff fluff fluff. There are short mentions of food, but nothing too crazy. The Miguel in here is also not Spiderman. Just a little guy.

credit for art and dividers: Me! and @kimjiho1 (plus another person for the gif divider, if this is yours, lmk!)

a/n: This will be apart of a series called The Trendy Couple! This is the first installment ☝🏾😌. I’m not sure how long the series will be, but right now it’s just based off of cute couple's trends. My fyp has suffered trying to do research for this…

word count: 2.2k

I use the word "buggy" in here. Buggy = shopping cart or trolley. I'm southern so buggy just rolls off the tongue. ❤︎ Plus, it sounds cute!

You and Miguel have been out since 8 am running errands and grabbing supplies to fill up the new apartment. 

After a year of your dresser being full of his sweatpants and hoodies and his furniture hosting several of your blankets, his fridge being stocked of your favorite fruits and your shower caddy holding his body care, you both decided it was best to live together. 

Towel sets, bed sheets, comforters, silverware, curtains. This was only the tip of what you and Miguel had managed to stuff inside the car.

After hitting five shops just that morning, you opted to stay in the car while Miguel went and handled a pickup order from the hardware store. It was getting closer to lunchtime and you didn’t want to become irritable because of the long lines. 

To pass the time, you decided to scroll on TikTok, watching video after video, reacting to each accordingly. 

First, it was chatty kitties begging for food. Then, it was edits of hot wrestlers. Next, it was ramen recipes to cook at 2am. There were even a couple of NPC lives even though the trend was nearly dying at this point. 

Finally, you scrolled to a video hosting a girl and her boyfriend huddled together in a car over the console.

She’s leaned up against him, her smile beaming, “Today I’m going to be guessing my husband’s favorite things!”

“I’m not your husband,” are the words that shoot from her boyfriend’s mouth, fast as lightning. Cold. Unkind. Callous. 

You watch as the girl’s smile drops and the video cuts, her laughing out of shock beforehand, evidence of her trying to stamp out her embarrassment. 

You watch more as his grin widens and she gives him this awkward glance. 

“Not yet,” he adds, seeing how quiet she was. 

The video ends with her jumping at him playfully, trying to play the situation of. 

“Jesus,” you sigh, mouth turned sideways as you pause the video and open up the comments. Thousands of people were telling her to dump him, others questioning why he would say what he said in the way that he did. 

Your heart went out to the girl who clearly wanted to do a harmless joke that completely backfired. 

You liked a comment about this being a possible red flag. Although he could have responded that way because he wasn’t ready for marriage, his response was so quick and distant that it was like he was disgusted at the possibility of being with her that long. 

After working yourself up by scrolling through the comments, you decide to go even further by pressing the “calling my boyfriend ‘husband’” search at the top. 

There were so many stitches to the original video with people giving their own thoughts about the situation. Some people were proclaimed dating coaches, others psychologists, and a few influencers. 

You even see a follow up video from the original couple with the guy giving a shitty excuse as to why he was so quick in his response. 

“Yeah right,” you mumble, watching the girl snicker at her boyfriend’s pouts. You agree with the comments that his response makes the original video even worse. 

Still scrolling down, you find another video featuring a new couple. 

They’re at a table eating donut holes out of a hat, and when the girl calls her boyfriend “husband”, the guy’s entire body lights up. He’s grinning, cheeks rosy, and can’t stop staring back at his girlfriend. 

From there, you were able to see countless other couples with cute videos, all of the guys radiating at the word “husband.”

Biting your lip, you wondered how Miguel would react if you called him your husband. 

You loved him with all of your heart and you were sure that he loved you. You guys are literally moving into an apartment together. But the thought of him being unsettled by you calling him your husband weighed on you. 

Just as you were deep in your thoughts, you heard a knock near the trunk of the car startling you. Looking up in the rearview mirror, you see Miguel standing with a few bags and wood planks in his hands. You reach over and press a button to pop open the trunk. 

“Got everything?” you ask, turning to watch as he drops items in the back. 

“Yeah, I think so. Although there was almost a brawl over some potted plants,” he said. “Some older lady just came up to this guy and snatched his monsteras.” 

“What?” you respond, watching as he closed the trunk and walked around to the driver's seat. “Out of his hands or the buggy?”

Miguel laughed, both recalling the scene and finding your terms adorable. “She just came up and snatched it out of the cart while he was waiting at the end of the line. She swore that she saw it first.”

You listened to him retell the story, hand under your chin as you leaned closer. He was cute, lilt in his voice to make an impression of the plant thief. Thinking to yourself that you liked this little moment of playfulness, you take your phone out to record. 

Placing your phone in a case attached to the dashboard, you smile at the camera while Miguel’s still going. 

“‘You youngins think the world owes you everything, and that’s just not the case!’ And the poor guy is standing there going ‘ma’am, I just want my plant back.’ He looked so distressed.”

“I would be too! A random lady just shopped from my buggy. It’s like, why are you this close to me to see what I’m trying to buy?”

Miguel turns the car on and buckles up. “It started to escalate when the lady’s friend came over. Then there were two shrill voices fussing at this guy.”

He started to back the car out of the parking spot, hand behind your seat and head turned towards the back window. 

You slowly glanced at his arm, eyes tracing a vein up his shirt. 

Too bad you were in a car right now or else you’d let his arm wrap around you elsewhere. 

You tune back into his words, silently scolding yourself for letting something so simple get you to fold. 

“Luckily, I was able to calm them both down. All it took was me showing them some dasheen leaves,” he said, driving the car closer to the exit of the parking lot. 

You came to a conclusion. There was no better time than the present. 

“Aw, look at my husband. Saving the day with his genius,” you say, hand reaching out to pat his chest. 

Then you feel your body jerk to the right. The seat belt tightens as the car jerkingly swerves in between two parking spaces. 

You stare in a panic at Miguel who puts the car in park and turns his entire body towards you. 

“What did you just call me?” he asks, eyes searching yours, a little startled but mostly hopeful. 

You decide to keep the charades going, “I was just praising my husband for stopping the creation of another Karen video. Why did you turn the car like that?” You’re still looking at him as if he has two heads. 

“You just-!” Miguel takes your hands into his and places his forehead on his fists. “Baby, you know what you just said.” 

You laugh, a little giddy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Miguel leans back against his seat and closes his eyes, reaching down to take his seatbelt off. His eyebrows scrunch up as he brings your hand to his chest, “Feel my heartbeat.”

Your mouth drops as you feel his heart rattling against his chest. He really wasn’t being dramatic. 

“Baby look at me,” you grab his hands and hold them tight. “You did a good job today.”

His breath stopped, as he looked at you. His face was tinted from the whole fiasco. 

“Husband.”

Miguel’s entire body slumped as he grinned wide. He nearly jumped over the console to sag his body onto yours. 

His shoulders were shaking and you heard his laugh muffled by your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and make a face at the camera. 

“What’s up, Mig?” you say, trying to get him to talk. 

He mumbled into your clothes, shoulders still shaking. 

“I can’t hear you, you gotta sit up.”

He sits up and sniffles, turning his head toward the backseat. 

Looking at his profile you can see a few streaks down his face. 

“Are you crying?” you ask, turning his face towards yours. 

Miguel swipes his wrist across his cheeks, “Stop, this is extremely embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not! I promise it’s not,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his ear. “Talk to me.”

He chuckled, eyes looking down, “It just feels really good to know that you think of me that way. We don’t have to ever cross that line, but one day, if you would like, we can make that title true.”

“Is this a pre-proposal?” you ask, heartbeat in your ears. You went out on a limb to follow a trend, not knowing how it would end. Now you’re staring at Miguel’s flushed face with his heart pouring out into your lap. 

“Maybe,” he whispered, grabbing your hands. “Possibly a promise for what could be.”

You bite your lip to hold back a grin, “Can I know what could be right now?”

“And expose my plans? Not a chance,” Miguel smirked. “Besides, a husband knows what’s best for his partner, right?”

“He does,” you quip, rubbing your hand in a circle on his chest. “He also apparently forgets that SUVs can flip very easily.”

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he says, looking sheepishly at the placement of the car. “Did I startle you?”

You just giggle at his concern and give him a quick peck on the mouth. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that big of a reaction.”

“How would you react if I casually called you forever mine? While driving!”

“Go 90 in a 70,” you joke. “Maybe pull over and do a little more than make out.” You rub your hand down his chest, and squeeze playfully at his pec. 

Miguel stared back at you, body instantly reacting to the shift in conversation. “We can actually do that right now.”

He leaned forward and brought your lips to his. You could taste the mint from the gum he had earlier, humming when he pushed further into your mouth. 

He started to reach for your hips, ready to pull you over onto his lap. 

Your stomach let out a loud grumble, making you jump. 

“Ok, let’s try this again after we get you some food,” Miguel says, plastering kisses on your face. 

The day moves on smoothly with Miguel not letting you out of his sight, hands itching to hold you in some way. 

He also never lets the husband thing go. 

As you’re ordering lunch, “One lemonade for my baby. And a water with lemon for me, the husband.”

As you stop in a clothing store at the mall for a small break, “These say boyfriend jeans. Do they have any husband jeans?”

As you’re trying to reach the top shelf to grab the last of your favorite detergent, “No, cariño. Let your husband get it for you.”

As you’re looking for throw pillows and towel sets for the apartment, “You think they have a couple’s set? I want something that says ‘Mr.’ on it.”

As you stop at a gift store, looking for something extra to give to the movers, “Look, this shirt says it’s made of ‘hubby material.’ Should I get it?”

This feeling is only amplified when you post his initial reaction online. The comments were full of people yearning to be in your predicament. 

“If my boyfriend doesn’t crash the car when I call him husband, THROW HIM AWAY. 😒”

“Does he have a brother….asking for a friend”

“I needed this after the “I’m not your husband” he in LOVE”

“If your bf doesn’t cry at the thought of you, what are you doing”

“He was blushing HARRRRD 😭😭😭”

“So when’s the wedding? 🤨”

“He was literally cheesing and crying omg”

“Get you a man that stops the car to declare his love”

“What if I did a five mile marathon on i-55”

“He’s so in love with you that it’s palpable”

“He was ready do a lot more than make out 😭”

Miguel saw most things, a little embarrassed but mostly happy that so many people found him to be genuine. 

You laid on his shoulder as he checked the comments, liking the funny ones as they passed by.

“Do you want to make a response video?” you say, liking a comment going ‘he’s a good man, Savannah.’

“No, I think this is enough,” he replies, handing the phone back to you. “Let me keep a little mystery. At least until I actually propose, of course.”

You looked at him with stars in your eyes.

“A mysterious husband. I kind of like the sound of that,” you say, wrapping your body around his side. “Maybe I can be nosy, find out his secrets.”

“I bet you would, cariño,” he voiced, nuzzling his chin on top of your head. “After, everything is planned and done.”

You laughed and snuggled closer, happy to be with him.

Once again, I hope you enjoyed reading! ❣️

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.

I'm excited for the future of this series and I hope you guys are too. When I finish the series masterlist, I'll link it here. If you guys have any trends that you want me to include, then just let me know and I'll see what I can do!

- Blue ♡

[rosedpetal]

It's Nice to Have a Friend

Summary: How you and Wade became best friends.

Pairing: Wade Wilson x slightly Depressed!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

It smells like sweat, tobacco and cheap alcohol inside the bar. You immediately regret leaving your cozy apartment, wearing those faux leather pants, a black crop top that makes you feel like you're gonna explode out of it and putting makeup on just to end up in a smelly place that has a bathroom that'll probably give you an UTI if you use it.

But it's your best friend's pleading eyes that soften you up, and you know you have been unavailable lately. Always cancelling on her last minute and isolating in your place after your work hours, wallowing in your misery and wondering if that's all life's gonna be now that you're an adult: paying bills and working in a vicious cycle.

"You're not depressed, you're suffering from late capitalism," Maya begins, as she moves flawlessly on her high heels, her tiny little dress fitting perfectly on her. "You just need a drink or ten to forget for a little while."

"Becoming an alcoholic sounds like a nice solution." You roll your eyes, dodging a broken bottle in your sneakers, kicking another aside as you move between all that trash. Maya was such a princess, why she was in love with someone who worked in such a nasty place was very confusing to you.

"You're so funny." Maya said, kissing your cheek, her manicured thumb grazing on the spot her lipstick left a stain, smudging it a little. "He's very important to me, Y/N. And your approval means a lot."

Your heart made that little flip it always does whenever she says something like this. Maybe it's the guilt gnawing at your mind.

"If he makes you happy, you don't really need my approval, Maya." You mumble, following her inside.

The interior is even worse than outside. The bar is full: of big, chunky men. Some are playing pool, others playing poker, others are drinking alone, sulking.

You keep your face straight, wondering which one of those are Maya's new boyfriend. You sigh in relief when she runs to the one who's sweeping the floor, an Indian skinny guy who - thanks to the gods above - doesn't look old enough to be her father this time.

She lets out a girlish squeal as she hugs him, giving him a tight hug. You approach them, alleviated that he seems normal.

"Y/N, this is Dopinder. Dopinder, this is my bestest of the best friends in the whole world." Maya grins, and you force a smile to Dopinder.

"Hello, Miss Y/N, I'm a mercenary apprentice." The young man shakes your hand and your eyes widen in disbelief.

Of fucking course. Jesus Christ, Maya.

"Now, now, my little brown friend. What did I say about introducing yourself like this? Tsk." A voice coming right behind makes you stiff.

You turn to face whoever is invading your personal space, a mean scowl on your face, when your eyes widen just a little bit. The guy behind you stands at least 6'2". It's not his impressive height that has your attention, though.

It's his skin. Scarred all over, as if he had some rare skin disease. You wondered if it was an accident, and how he was before it happened. His grin spreads a little.

"Disgusted, doll face?" He tilts his head to the side, as if challenging you to admit it.

The bitter undertone in his voice doesn't escape you. You are mortified by your own reaction. Maya senses your unease and jumps in:

"Wade, excuse my friend, she never leaves home."

Your cheeks and neck turn pink. Wade thinks it's the cutest thing in the world.

Before you can bite Maya's head off, she hops away with Dopinder, leaving you alone with this guy you don't know. You bite the inside of your cheek, contemplating going back home, but it'll be just another thing for Maya to whine about later.

"Seems like you've been ditched." He smirks, sensing the way you're shying away.

"So it seems." You say bitterly.

"Can I entertain you with my company?" He raises his hairless eyebrow.

You're tempted to just dismiss this guy, but you're already out of the safety of your home. Might as well get drunk now.

Wade talks at an impressive speed and you almost can't catch up to him. He cracks so many jokes that by the end of your second beer, your face is flushed with laughter.

"So... You don't look like someone who usually goes out to have fun, doll face." He pries.

"No, I don't." You say quietly, a sigh escaping your lips.

"Why, then? Why put the effort in dolling yourself up when we both know you'd rather be watching Gilmore Girls in the comfort of your home?"

"I haven't been a good friend lately." You admit, almost meekly, biting the inside of your cheek - another nasty habit that came with the anxiety.

"What's eating you up alive, doll face?"

His question almost makes you choke. How could you tell him that what has been eating you alive is yourself? Your own thoughts? Your low self esteem and your self depreciation? How do you tell him you don't know what the fuck happened between your high school years and college, why your mind is playing tricks on you?

"Please." Your eyes are blinking with unshed tears.

His gaze softens, and he leans in closer, the soft fabric of his hoodie brushing against your forearm.

"Maya is a sweetheart, but we both know she's not that good of a friend. Not if the only way she can gets you to leave your house is by guilt tripping you into it." He speaks in a hushed tone. "Specially if she drops you the moment she sees her boyfriend."

You look up, your gaze finding his.

"You have such gentle eyes." You blurt out.

He wheezes. Wheezes.

"Wow, let's cut your alcohol, okay? Goddamnit, doll face, I'm the ugliest thing to ever exist since Wes Craven created Freddy Krueger." He mumbles the last part, grabbing a water bottle and twisting the cap for you. "Here. Drink it up. Yes, girl!"

"Are you sure this won't upset my stomach?" You raise your eyebrow, eating your second chimichanga.

Wade rolls his eyes, chewing on his.

You two are sitting on the curb, eating deep fried burritos and drinking soda. Not how you pictured how your night would turn out to be, but much better than what you expected.

"Listen, doll face, did I ever let you down?"

"I literally met you two hours ago."

"Exactly."

"So... Why entertain me?" You can't help but ask.

Wade pauses. He thought you were the cutest thing in the world when he saw you, all wide eyed and brooding, a little scowl on your gorgeous face.

"You seemed like you needed saving." He decides on telling a half-truth instead.

"Is this your thing? Saving damsels in distress?"

He contemplates it. There was nothing heroic about how he acted, or his job, or his personality, for all that mattered. Did he have an ulterior motive to invite you to drink with him? Maybe. But who didn't have ulterior motives?

"No, doll face. Being a hero is not how I operate."

"Are you a mercenary, too?"

His grin widens. Of course.

"It's a long story, doll face. Maybe I'll tell you someday."

"Hmm, is there gonna be a next time, then?"

"It depends. Do you wanna hang out with my ugly ass mug in the foreseeable future?"

This time, you roll your eyes.

Wade Wilson got under your skin in a way that no one else did.

It started with the way he cracked jokes at everything.

Then, his unexpected late night visits, where he brought some take out and you'd both eat it together sitting by your balcony.

Then, he came to you wounded, with more tears and bullet holes you were comfortable with – now that you knew about his healing factor and what triggered it, you thought you'd get used to seeing his guts by now.

Spoiler alert: you didn't.

It wasn't until you cried and sobbed on his chest, wondering if you were a failure, externalizing all your insecurities and doubts and fears, that you realized you actually made a friend.

Wade trotting in your place with his ridiculous crocs, a popcorn bowl and a beer on his hand should've give it away.

"I love you." You blurted out, so unexpectedly that he snapped his head to you, a shocked look on his face.

"You... What?"

"You're like my best friend now. And I love you. Deal with it." You repeat, this time more confidently, crossing your arms over your chest, as if daring him to state otherwise.

"Wow, you're in love with me!" Wade squeals like a school girl.

"Wade, that's not-"

"I mean, why wouldn't you? When I'm all that." He points to himself with a chuckle. "So, when did it happen? Did you get lost in my gentle eyes?" He blinks in an affected way.

You sighed. "I take it back. I hate you."

"Suuuure."

"Just press play on the fucking movie." You mumble, plopping next to him on the couch.

[carlsangel]

STUPID

carl grimes x reader

(you punch negan at the lineup.)

tags: angst, fluff

masterlist here!

Sometimes, you do things without thinking which was very prevalent during the lineup. Sitting there silently while watching Negan torment and murder your family was complete torture. Coming along on this trip wasn’t supposed to turn out this way. Carl didn’t even want you to go in the first place.

During the lineup, the two of you were separated which somehow made everything much worse. You were sat between Michonne and Abraham. That definitely wasn’t the most ideal position to be in. Directly next to Abraham. You didn’t look, you couldn’t. You knew Carl had probably watched it all to make sure he’d remember it.

You thought it couldn’t get any worse but Negan decided to torment Rosita about it. You knew they had some sort of issue before all of this, that they’d broken up. But it was still cruel and just as hard to watch. Negan thought he was funny. So you clocked him in the jaw which is fair, who wouldn’t?

You were tackled and pinned to the floor as expected, you had heard the others protest while they screamed at Negan’s men telling them you’re just a kid. They weren’t planning on having mercy on you, but Negan did. He scolded you and told you there’d be consequences to your actions. You sometimes wish it was you. Glenn was a huge loss to the group, you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault.

After everything you thought you’d be given the liberty of going home with your family. But he took you as punishment. He’d told you on various occasions that you were brave. Brave makes a good soldier, so he would try and break you. Turn you into a savior, into Negan. You were under the control of Dwight who locked you in a room and basically starved you, feeding you dog food and made you suffer by repeating songs over and over. He made you spend time with the dead, and that was the next time you’d see Carl.

You saw him through a gate first, he killed some of Negan’s men and that already stressed you out to no end. You were worried about what he’d might do to Carl. You finally got to leave the dead to service Dwight and Negan once again. You held a tray of snacks for the man, it was quite humiliating to say the least. But you were able to see Carl. The look he gave you was heartbreaking. He was so worried to see you there in that state. “Why’s he here?” You ask Negan. He sort of laughed at your question. “Well the last time I checked, that was none of your business. Don’t make me take out the only eye he has.” He teases. So you stay silent, that was probably the first you’d spoken in a while.

Later that day you were able to see him two more times, once during the iron and right before he left back to Alexandria. You knew that if he didn’t have his bandage, Negan had definitely tormented him. Eventually you were back locked into your cell, but not for long because you were soon given the supplies you’d need to leave. So you do, effectively disguising yourself and escaping. You made to ur way back to Hilltop, thanks to Jesus.

There you were well taken care of, you were given a shower and real food. Somewhere to sleep. You had nightmares about the Sanctuary, about Negan and Dwight. It sounds stupid but you were worried, you’d thought about it and realized you were still an escaped hostage, they could look for you at any moment. But that didn’t stop you from wanting to see Carl. Your plan was to leave Hilltop early in the morning to head back to Alexandria. You wake up early and grab a couple things you’d need in a bag. You sneak off to a side wall and before you can start to try to escape, you hear Maggie calling you and Sasha.

You walk further into the settlement to see that the gates are opened and he’s there. Carl is there. You let your bag slide off your back and the both of you make your way to each other’s embrace, still sort of shocked. He hugs you so tightly, tighter than he ever has before. He shoves his face into your neck. “Thank god.” He mumbles against your skin. After a moment you pulled back to look at him. He looks at you a bit wearily as the last time he’d seen you it wasn’t in the best condition. He leans forward and plants a kiss to your forehead, his eyes shut as he feels a wave of gratefulness flood his body.

Soon you guys would be sitting down in Barrington house while you guys caught up. Although, he seemed to be doing most of the talking. You were very silent. “After the Sanctuary…he went back to Alexandria. People died. He took Eugene.” He explains solemnly. He looks at your face for any expression and there is none. “Cmon you gotta say something.” He examines your face and realizes how much pain you’re in.

“I just…I feel so stupid.” You mutter. He tilts his head to get a better look at you. “If i hadn’t done what I did…Glenn would be here. I wouldn’t have gone to the Sanctuary. It was bad Carl it was so bad.” Your voice trails off as tears fill your eyes, you can’t help but cover your face but all you can think of was the cell they’d keep you in, constantly being taunted and picked on.

He immediately went to comfort you, running his hand over your back to calm you down. He wasn’t sure what to say, he didn’t know how to help you. But all he knew was that you needed comfort. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you tightly. It was almost like he was telling you that you were safe now.

Negan wouldn’t hurt you again, and he’d make sure of it. “Whatever happens next…you have to sit out.” He tells you, still holding on tightly. You pull back and look at him puzzled. “Sit out?” You sniffle, “This isn’t a game, Carl. This is war.” He breathes in deeply and considers your response, although he can’t agree. “That doesn’t matter to me…but you do.” You shake your head and stand up from the couch.

“That’s unfair. I can fight and I’m going to.” You retort. “No. You’re not. Not like this.” He demands. How doesn’t he understand? You can’t let whatever it was stop you, not now. “Is this for revenge?” He questions. You turn back to look at him with a small glare as he remained on the couch. “If that’s how you want to look at it, yes. But to me it’s justice. Not just for me… but for Abraham and Glenn.” Carl keeps quiet and looks at you intently.

“Even though what happened to Glenn was my fault.” You say sort of quietly, looking. down at your feet. Your words struck Carl hard. So he stood up and forced you to look at him, just to make sure you understood. “That’s not what happened- we were put in a shitty position. None of that should’ve happened anyway.”

You say nothing. It’s hard to feel any other way. Like it wasn’t your fault. Carl took you in his arms anyway, it was probably the most comforting hug you’d gotten since the start of it all. He pulled away from you to hold your face gently in his hands. “If fighting makes you feel better then you can fight. But you have to stay by my side. Can you promise me that…please?” His voice was gentle and reassuring, it really made you feel better.

You nod. “I promise.”

a/n: the rest of the match ups are gonna be done somewhat soon, i’m having quite bad mental health issues currently so they’re kinda getting hard for me to get through T-T

anyway mannnn 0-0 this was FUNNN it was just so depressing but i suppose that’s the point shrug THANKS FOR THE REQ ANON IT WAS BANGER also sorry for it coming out A MONTH LATER HDHDHDHD

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow

[orbleglorb]

tumblr in the blaseball universe, part 10

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

image descriptions: the first image is a thick black bar meant to separate posts. the second image is a thin gray bar meant to separate reblogs. they are used continuously throughout the post when appropriate. like right now

☎️ official-jessica-telephone 🔁

☎️ official-jessica-telephone

what happens if the real JT wants this URL. it's a part of me now. who do i become if i have to give it up

🐟 offishal-jessica-telephone Follow

she'll have to krill you for it

☎️ official-jessica-telephone

WHO ARE YOU

102 notes

☕ eyesinthedark11

every day with salmon weather for the past few months, my dad has miraculously "found" fresh salmon for us to have for dinner. should i ask him where he's getting it from

#personal #i know the answer. i just need the verbal confirmation

0 notes

Whoops, looks like this post doesn't exist!

🐍 gamer--gorgon

shoutout to the guy (who i think might be in our shadows?) that goes fishing during every salmon game. you should see if you can get anything from the floods

#if he's a shadows guy it's extra funny because he's gotta come up from new jersey #all the shadows share an apartment there #charla said she thought she knew him but every time she tries to get into the stands to talk to him he just disappears lmfao #i get it king. i really do

41 notes

☎️ official-jessica-telephone

what do you MEAN they're rebooting supernatural???

35 notes

☕️ eyesinthedark11 🔁

☕️ eyesinthedark11

i understand that this is ostensibly a terrible thing to say but i truly do not think parker macmillan did anything wrong. if my mom was the coin i woulda done worse. i wouldn't have only been passively killing

🦆 peripheral-duck

everyone wants to act all gifted kid burn out fleabag mommy issues #coquette #girlblogger but the minute mommy decides murder is okay if it gets her some money it's all "well why didn't PARKER do anything :/" you fake fucking bitches. bro got cursed to bring destruction in his wake and THEN cursed to wander everywhere. we're not going to question that??

☕️ eyesinthedark11

if the coin was my mom i would have burned the whole earth years ago. not even because of firewalker or anything i woulda just done that

#like you are looking at mommy issues supreme. you show some fucking respect #<- PREV #on one hand it feels really weird to say these things about a Real Guy who is possibly still alive #on the other hand. you fake bitches #if you've reblogged a fleabag quote i don't wanna hear shit from you #'maybe the fireballs didn't know what instability was' valid point! #but that does not mean they're not at fault. you know #idk why everyone expects parker to just. fix everything. #if he's in the vault then he's been 19 for like 50+ years. he suffers more than jesus

5 notes

🐶 catgirlfirefighter

it's somehow the league's best kept secret that mike townsend is deaf. people keep coming to me like, "idk how you're friends with the guy, he just ignored me, he's such a dick" bro he can't hear you. and also yeah he is a huge bitch

#right judgement wrong reason #mike if you're reading this. ily <3

112 notes

🦞 marketplace-shellfish

Hey has anyone heard from that guy who was making the "meatcute is not real and can't hurt me" affirmations recently? I can't tell if it's a bit or not but they haven't posted since.

#blaseball #san francisco #san francisco lovers #hopefully it's nothing and i'm just anxious lol

11 notes

[cononeillbreastingboobily]

Lucius has been suffering more than Jesus these past two episodes.

What he thought would be a cathartic way of processing his trauma wasn't cathartic at all. His art is suffering. Okay, he got engaged to Pete (the only thing in plus rn). He smokes now. And to make matters even worse, he wants to fuck that old man.

[lakesbian]

brian is Such a funny fucking character btw. i love brian. sometimes i think about him too hard and just randomly start laughing. he’s introduced as the nice handsome strong love interest with a boyish smile and by the time the story is over he’s suffered more than jesus. it would have genuinely been kinder to crucify him. brian is the literal poster child for “fate worse than death.” brian is like if the long-suffering older brother archetype was a guy. if his life is a peaceful drive down a highway his girlfriend is the bug-covered freak who gets into the car, throws him into the passenger seat, grabs the wheel, and rams the entire vehicle directly through the wall of the nearest police headquarters at 129mph. and then she gets out and becomes the new police chief (previous police chief died when the car hit) and just fucking leaves him there. he’s not even normal but everyone else is so much worse than him that it ends up being his job to make like he’s the normal one anyway. you try to rob one gas station so your absolutely horrible little sister whom you love doesn’t go to juvie and then the next thing you know Taylor Fucking Hebert is calling you to inform you that she just killed wonder woman. he HAS had bugs on his dick before and he’s just going to have to live with that. Wouldn’t even notice with the type of shit he’s got going on. He emanates darkness to cope and it does not fucking work. his life sucks so fucking bad man. I love him. 

[postsforposting]

subtext

this is a headbutt

this is also wade-as-deadpool's conception. angel is a "virgin mary"/mary magdalene foil. that headbutt is head-in-butt aka anal. he conceived himself, an impossible conception. created before he was conceived, then died and was born again.

not immaculate but out of sin--because it's out of wedlock. wade pulls vanessa's proposal ring out of his ass, where he was saving it for marriage. vanessa's "jinx" reply confirms her anal question was also a proposal.

her first proposal to him was on women's day, but he got cold feet. marriage is "creating a new life together" which is why it has to be on christmas, jesus's birthday. women's day is march 8; 8 is infinity/"Forever" in another direction, so he's also saying he doesn't want forever with her. wolvie, on the other hand, is the 8th variant we meet.

this means both wade and deadpool know the themes, subtext, and symbolism of the stories they're in. wade knew he was in a story before he was deadpool. the scene with the pizza boy in someone else's apartment is him telling us that he knows there's an audience and he's being watched.

even as "just" wade, he knew he was destined for something else out of his reach. that vanessa wasn't "endgame". she was "the one" for wade, but he knew he wasn't going to be "just" wade for much longer. he could only keep it up all year, not forever. he proposes at the end: an attempt to save his life and create a new one, just before it's all ending. because he wanted to live, he didn't want things to end.

because endings, death and suffering, change you into someone else. that's explicitly the theme of dp2. that's why he wanted francis to fix it so he could....live again. that's why he left vanessa, and why vanessa also changed how she acts with wade after her own stint in the oxygen tank. why they broke up after they both died for realsies--because they'd changed too much and wanted different things than when they'd met.

he expected francis to get away during the bridge fight (winter soldier bridge fight reference) and reacts with fake disbelief when negasonic says francis escaped. he knows there can't be a story if he kills the villain in the first act. if there isn't a story, he doesn't exist.

he doesn't merely see the audience, he knows the structure of the story. he knows what time jumps are, and knows when scenes are played out of order: "we all know how this turned out" as he gets in the cab in dp1.

he doesn't address us directly until after dying the first time, until after his face-down staking--not crucified upright like christ nor merely the opposite, but "in another direction" because he plays for neither heaven nor hell but his own franchise.

he addresses us just before acquiring his swords, because jesus's second coming will have a sign and is not in peace but with a sword. wade was "just a man", which is why he doesn't get off on international women's day and why he forgives the pizza boy with just a confession and apology. unlike jesus the preacher, he doesn't address us during his "first coming" as wade, because that's the jesus foil. he saves during the first go round--except those he's ordered to kill by the government, something bigger than himself--and is unforgiving in the second.

deadpool is a superman though, more than a man. like jesus was "more than a man". that's why the gender jokes start up after he's deadpool, not while he's wade. he's going "in his own direction", and in another direction as deadpool: he didn't "come with a sword" ie on women's day, but as deadpool he acquired katanas and swapped from vanessa/women to play for another team. his own team, his own franchise, not mere men or women but only those as fucky fucky--cockeyed queer--as himself. specifically he fucks up and touches people worse than himself. aka worst wolverine, literally from the peanut gallery and not one of the good seats.

wolverine is the only other character referred to like deadpool is: genderqueer AND who's played for no other teams but his own. when the godly disney franchise demands that everyone find their other half in the opposite gender, playing for no one but yourself is as queer as it can get. and as homo-same-sexual as it can get.

same as yourself......"only you". only himself. vanessa demanded he show her he cared about something bigger than himself.

he couldn't because he's a....homosexual.

god-anchor-logan is the same as but also bigger than jesus. (dick joke.) deadpool has always cared about that, he just couldn't reach him. he's misunderstood by even those who should be closest to him.

he's defying the narrative of what's expected of him. is it only pansexual if you'd fuck anyone? deadpool explicitly doesn't. or is it pan-sexual if you only want a partner who is every gender and every sexuality while also none of them? just like yourself, which also makes it homo-sexual? all sexualities, all genders/sexes, ie pansexual? everything and nothing, alpha and omega?

you know, like the father, the son, and the holy spirit are supposed to be everything but also from nothing. transcendent, above it all, because it does not matter....like pan is defined as "it does not matter".

is that still pan? like how the sex jokes work both ways? pan is queer, but is queer "only you" still pan? or is it something else entirely?

the movie wants you to think about what your expectations do to people. how much can you queer something before it's "too different"? if it's not what you expected, does that make it wrong?

but in being wrong and unexpected....isn't that exactly the definition of queer? to not be textbook accurate?

vanessa is also a virgin mary/magdalene foil; francis is god, deadpool's father. oedipal complex: deadpool literally fucked his mother, subtextually fucked angel-who-is-his-mother, and did three kinds of fucking by killing his father. deliberately, because he knows how stories are supposed to work and instead of playing along, went "fuck that". he fucked his whole family in his crusade to defy the narrative.

to defy the narrative is to start your own franchise is to play for your own team is to....fuck god. as in how he addresses us as fuckface at the end of dp3. cause that was not what we expected.

that's what made it feel so right.

[dysfunctional-doodle]

TMNT FIC RECS

I got someone asking to recommend some angst TMNT fics so I decided to make a list of my own! I’ll recommend some of my favourite fics then a few of mine for those that haven’t read them :)

NOTE - I’m such a Mikey fan that almost all of these are Mikey-centric angst, my bad. Still very very good. Top tier shit:

Ok so I’m going to cut this because this list is massive, please keep reading!!

NOT MY FICS:

Feed Me Poison ‘Til I Drown (TMNT 2007, All Media Types)

Summary: Mikey’s tired of not being taken seriously by his brothers. Karai is very persuasive. As such, Mikey joins the Foot clan…mere months after Leo is sent away for training.

Notes: This is wonderfully written. A what if based on a cancelled TMNT 2 sequel where Mikey joins The Foot due to him feeling unappreciated and a burden. I personally love a unreliable narrator, and this captures that perfectly - you don’t know whether Mikey is being manipulated, or whether his actions (and how antagonistic they get) are of his own free will and not brainwashing. Chefs kiss. (Ao3)

All works by Justalittleobsessed.

All of them are perfect angst ranging from mild injury to absolute gut wrenching angst. Please check all of them out, they are some of my favourites for sure. (Ao3)

Radio Silence (All Media Types)

Summary: Mikey isn’t answering his shell cell, which isn’t like him, prompting his brothers to go look for him; Mikey has no idea what’s going on, but the rain is making nice sounds and moving hurts and there are noises coming from his shell cell that he should probably pay attention to.

Notes: Less angst and more hurt in this one, but still brilliant on capturing exactly how it feels to wake up from a serious injury, alone and confused. Perfectly describes shock and has a decent dosage of comfort after. (Ao3)

Missing Comedic Relief (TMNT 2003, All Media Types)

Summary: Michelangelo is the light of the family, he's always cracking jokes no matter what situation they're in. His family doesn't realize it, but his jokes help keep up the team moral. They always break the tension and make it easier to do what they need to do. So when Mikey isn't part of a mission, his family can't help but notice how empty their team felt. To make matters worse, the reason Mikey isn't part of their mission was because he was missing.

Notes: I love this one because the amount of emotional angst from the brothers not knowing where Mikey is and missing what he means to each of them is just amazingly written. The brothers don’t know where Mikey is but know he’s hurt and in trouble, and it largely follows their point of view as they search everywhere for him. Mikey himself suffers quite a bit too (cage fighting against a bunch of Purple Dragons, not fun) and it ends with comfort! Huzzah! (Ao3)

The T Subjects (ROTTMNT)

Summary: Mikey and Don face their worst fears when they're separated from their brothers by ruthless scientists.

Notes: If you want angst, this is the place to go, seriously. Explores the terrifying reality of what would happen when any of the turtles get captured by scientists who want nothing more than to study them. It’s heartbreaking reading about how Donnie is trying to keep it together for Mikey, but ultimately fails when he is separated from his youngest brother. And Mikey - god, he goes through it too much. His childlike faith in Donnie and genuine fear is written so well.

I will note that this is private, so you can only read it if you have an ao3 account.

I’ve Been Afraid of Changing (TMNT 2007, though can be read as general)

Summary: “You can’t make me go,” Mikey blurts, too loud. “I won’t. I don’t want to.”

“Jesus,” Donnie mutters, rubbing his forehead. He’s already so fed-up with Mikey after like three seconds of conversation that Mikey can feel his eyes start to sting. “The last thing I want to do is fight with you, Mike. I thought you liked Cowabunga Carl.”

It’s not fair. Donnie’s so smart. He’s tired and overworked and unhappy, but he’s smart. How can he get this one thing so wrong? How can he not know Mikey as well as he used to, like all of those years of being each other’s best friends and co-conspirators and secret-keepers from where they were relegated to the “B Team” aren’t as intrinsic and important and fundamental to him as they are to Mikey? How can he look at Mikey, right in the face, and not understand him at all? Something breaks.

Notes: a kind of AU of the TMNT 2007 movie where Mikey develops depression/has a mental breakdown due to how the other brothers have drifted apart. His birthday is forgotten, Donnie and Raph keep fighting, he hates his job - and he can’t take it anymore. It’s horrible reading Mikey’s breakdown, but it ends on a much happier note! If you want emotional angst this is FULL of it. (Ao3)

Nothing is Ever Simple (TMNT 2003, All Media Types)

Summary: When breaking up an arms' deal goes bad, Mikey is taken and Raphael is on the trail of his brother's kidnappers. You don't mess with family.

Notes: Mikey gets kidnapped and Raph is left following a small trail to find him. This fic is one of my favourites because of the way it focuses a lot on Raph and his own personal demons, and how much Mikey means to him. Also, Mikey gets tortured in a twisted way, and seeing him never give in is always a plus in the old angst book. Overall, though it seems it’s about Mikey it’s mostly about Raph. His own reflections, fears and loyalties to family. (Ao3)

Never Really Over (ROTTMNT)

What appears to be another routine Purple Dragons bust takes a devastating turn when one of the brothers gets infected with leftover krang sludge. Or; kraangified Mikey

Notes: what can I say about this one apart from Mikey gets kraangified. It’s peak angst, I promise. Absolutely amazing, read it. (Ao3)

That’s where the blood is supposed to be! (ROTTMNT)

Summary: Sometimes, you just get hit a little too hard (aka: mikey blames everything on low blood sugar for ~4K words)

Notes: Mikey is seriously injured but doesn’t tell anyone due to the high tensions between Raph and Leo. Come on - physical and emotional angst? Sign me up! Very good and accurate descriptions of injury and gore, and the build up of this one is just perfect. You know something is horribly wrong, and it’s torture. Poor Mikey. (Ao3)

A Change In Outbreak (TMNT 2003)

Summary: Shredder showed us that there are there infinite number of realities, thousands of dimension and each of them differ from the last when it came to the turtle brothers. This one is no different then the one we've known our Turtles to be part of, however there is one little detail, one small thing that's different. Instead of Donnie getting mutated, it's Mikey.

Notes: long time fans probably all know about this fanfic, it’s a classic! Based on the original idea that Mikey would be double mutated in the Good Genes arc rather than Donnie, it retells the events if Mikey had indeed been infected. It keeps it fresh by adding new elements and plot points, as well as a lot of angst surrounding the brothers after seeing their youngest and heart be reduced to a monster. Plenty of emotional and physical angst all round, it’s perfect. (Ao3)

Heated Arguments Don’t Warm a Frozen Family (TMNT 2003, All Media Types)

Summary: “He’s gotta be around here somewhere, I just kno-“ he suddenly tripped over an object buried in the snow.

“GaH!” Leo shuddered, pulling himself up quickly and brushing off the cold substance.

“Leo???”

Looking back to see what it was that caused his fall, his heart nearly launched into his throat. “Oh no.”

“Leo, what’s wrong?!” Raph’s voice echoed again from the phone.

Leo got onto his knees, ignoring the cold snow that he initially was avoiding. He anxiously brushed away a few inches of loose fluffy snow to see the familiar pattern of a shell. “Shit-“ He muttered under his breath “Get Donnie and come to my location now!”

“What’s going on?! We’re on our way now!” Raph sounded like he was already running.

“I found Mikey.” Leo’s voice cracked as he hung up the phone before Raphael could respond.

Notes: one of the first fics I read on this fandom and still one of my favourites. Lots of emotional and physical, Mikey centric angst in this one! (Ao3)

Everything by BrightLotusMoon

Seriously, they got me into this fandom from a casual watcher to artist and fanfic writer! Full of Mikey angst, and creator of the Empath! Mikey head cannon that lives rent free in my head and has inspired many of my own material! Read them all, they’re all bangers.

Revenge Always Tastes Sweet (But the Aftertaste is Bitter (ROTTMNT)

Summary: Actions have consequences and they come back with a vengeance when it's least expected. A trip to the Hidden City gives one of the brothers a taste of just how deadly making enemies with a yokai can be.

Notes: What, not Mikey angst?? Not this time - Donnie gets the full angst attack when he gets poisoned from an unknown enemy. Lots of well described hurt, end it has a happy ending! (Ao3)

Hyperactive Hyperthermia (ROTTMNT)

Summary: Snow day ruined for the second year in a row! They had expected a break, but they really couldn't ever catch one. How could they have known mystic fire was so uncontrollable?Maybe standing on the ice lake was the first bad idea.

---

OR: The brothers go out for a snow day, but it quickly goes south after multiple avalanches and other shenanigans leaves Mikey without any winter clothing and trapped with Donnie under the snow.

Notes: this one…this one is heartbreaking, honestly. You have to read about Donnie being trapped with a freezing Mikey, and he knows this but is helpless to do anything but watch it happen. The emotional angst in this kicks you deep in the gut, it’s terrible I love it. (ao3)

Nowhere Boy (TMNT 2003, can be read as general)

Summary: He was twelve years old, and he realized that his dreams were always the same. Every single one. "We need you. We'll find you," those indistinct figures would say, their eyes glinting in the darkness, shadows stretching out to him like hands. But he always woke up before they reached him.

Notes: I LOVE this one. It has lived with me ever since I read it, something about it is so heartbreaking. It explores the feeling of being lost despite not knowing why, and how much you miss someone despite never knowing them. It actually inspired a fic of my own, which I will link in my own fics list. I don’t want to spoil it, but please read it. Mikey centric angst heaven (ao3)

Unfamiliar Familiar (ROTTMNT/TMNT 2012 Crossover)

Summary: What the hell is Michelangelo supposed to do? Having woken up in a strange world with new brothers? Why is everyone here so nice? Why won’t they let him leave? The Rise brothers stumble upon a traumatized Mikey, and when they learn the reason behind all that trauma, there is no way they’ll let him experience that again.

TLDR: Rise brothers adopt 2012 Mikey

Notes: I am a sucker for slight 2012 bashing and this one fulfils it without being overly mean. 2012 Mikey has been traumatised by his brothers and his enemies, and finally gets the chance to heal and start again when he is thrown into the rise universe. Very popular fic, I highly suggest you read it despite it not being complete. So much emotional angst I swear. (Ao3)

Going under (ROTTMNT)

Summary: “Have a pleasant swim, little turtle!” they snicker.

Mikey’s eyes widen.

“NO!”

Then, he feels weightless.

He’s falling.

And falling.

And then —

His body hits the water with a loud splash and his vision flashes white.

Notes: Mikey almost drowns. Peak angst. (Ao3)

Sunshine in the Rain (ROTTMNT)

Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Michelangelo is taken by a government scientist named Bishop, how will he respond to this new environment, and more importantly, will his brothers be able to save him before he breaks? Let the game begin.

Notes: Mikey sacrificing himself to save his brothers from Bishop? Yes please, and thank you author. Seriously, this has it all - introducing Bishop in the rise universe, and Leatherhead! Of course, lots of angst in the form of experimentation. But that’s what we’re here for, right? (Ao3)

Quicksand (All Media Types)

Summary: Trapped in darkness, no one can hear you, no one can see you, no one knows where you are. The cold lingers, the fear rises, who will help us? Who even knows we are down here? The only people who might know are probably dead. Help us, someone please help…

Notes: Mikey and Donnie get trapped in a collapsing lair when earthquakes year apart their home. Leo and Raph are the only ones that can get to them, but the snow storm is stopping them. This is so brutal in the way NO ONE gets a break, the angst just keeps coming. Everyone gets it. I love it. Read it (fanfiction.net)

Ghosts of New York Past (TMNT 2003)

Summary: The turtles and Splinter have been transported 100 years into the future through Cody Jones' time window. Future New York is a lot to take in. But when the dust settles and the sun goes down, the big unanswered question is still there: how are they supposed to fit into a time that doesn't belong to them?

Notes: light angst, exploring the more emotional and wise side of Mikey that we don’t see often in the show. (Fanfiction.net)

Questioning Choices (TMNT 2003, All Media Types)

Summary: A fun family trip to the beach turns ugly when Michelangelo is injured and his brothers have to make difficult decisions that go against their morals in order to save him.

Notes: I don’t know why but I love this one too much. Mike’s slowly getting worked whilst the brothers have to go against their morals and steal from an ambulance? Perfection. (fanfiction.net)

Suffered to Slumber (All Media Types)

Summary: "Breathe quick, breathe slow, put the gun in your mouth and pull the trigger. Any way you like, you're gonna die down here."

Notes: this one is also BRUTAL. Mikey getting buried alive? It’s all the angst you think and somehow more.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year (TMNT 2003)

Summary: What was supposed to be a pleasant Christmas Eve with family and friends suddenly turns to one of terror and uncertainty for the turtles. Will they make it through this Christmas together? Or will one fall?

Notes: one of my favourites. Mikey can’t keep out of trouble on Christmas Eve, and ends up paying the price this time. (Fanfiction.net)

It’s Much More Complicated (All Media Types)

Summary: After a late night patrol, Mikey falls ill. At first it's nothing to worry about, but something that seemed to be harmless turns into a race of life and death.

Notes: we love our favourite character getting deadly sick

An Agonising Secret (All Media Types)

Summary: Mikey tries to hide an injury from his brothers, but soon discovers that it wasn't as harmless as he thought it was...

Notes: more hidden injury? Yes please. I highly suggest look at this authors other works as well, lots of angst

Underdark (TMNT 2003, can he read as general)

Summary: He's hanging upside down in the middle of the great underdark, weighed down by a half hysterical turtle in the middle of a bunch of pipes and water and rock that are conspiring to kill us both off, and Leo still manages to sound like he Has A Plan.

Notes: do I need to even introduce this classic? Everyone knows it, it’s amazing.

MY OWN FICS

Helpless (TMNT 2003):

Summary: “No one comes. No one swoops in at the last second, nor does he manage to break the cuffs at the perfect moment. Instead, there is a collective shriek from the beasts below him as they all lunge forward in a hungered wave, their curled claws scraping against his scales and hideous jaws dripping with froth and drool.

Heart racing, Michelangelo hisses at the rodents. However, his warning is ignored by their destructive hunger. The hiss cuts off into a yelp when the first rat bites down on the exposed area between his skin and his shell, its grimy paws digging the pink flesh underneath away.”

What if, in the episode I, Monster, Mikey didn’t get out of the restraints in time? What if he was left, helpless against hoards of rats with no one to help?

TLDR: Mikey gets attacked by rats. It doesn’t end well. What can I say, I’m in a horror mood.

I’m Lost (But I Don’t Know Why) (TMNT 2003)

Summary: “He is mourning the loss of someone he never knew, doesn’t know, but it hurts all the same. He thinks back to the nunchucks, and the orange tape wrapped around them. The comic books hidden under the couch. The extra plate that he sets up everyday, has been for the past three weeks. The gap in their formation.

Missing, missing, missing, his mind chants, but he can’t know what. He’s lost, and can’t remember why.”

There have always been four of them - Donatello, Raphael, himself and his father. Or at least, that���s what Leonardo had thought. But something is missing. They are mourning the loss of another they have never even known. They are lost. But why?

TLDR: a curse makes everyone forget Michelangelo. Leonardo knows there’s something missing, but he doesn’t know why.

All I Ever Wanted (TMNT 2003)

Summary: Donatello vowed that the future he had seen would never occur. He wouldn’t let it. But he’s failed. He’s failed, because Mikey is bleeding out beneath him, his arm severed under a stormy sky. And no help is coming in time.

TLDR: Perhaps the future will not repeat itself, but it can rhyme. How Mikey, despite Donatello’s efforts, loses his arm in the cannon timeline.

Hunted (TMNT 2003, can be read as general)

Summary: What starts out as a late night adventure in the woods beside the farmhouse turns deadly when a group of hunters catch Mikey off guard. Alone and wounded, Mikey struggles to find his way to safety.

TLDR: Mikey is chased by a group of hunters with no way to contact his brothers.

The Shoebox (ROTTMNT)

Summary: Post “Snow Day”, Mikey tearing his coat has drastic consequences that result in him freezing and slipping into brumation.

TLDR: Box turtles, when hibernating, can have no detectable pulse or heartbeat. None of Mikey’s brothers are aware of this and believe that they have just watched their youngest brother die.

Don’t Wander Off (Stay Where You Are) (ROTTMNT)

Summary: Box turtles will keep walking in attempt to find their home if they ever get lost, even if they die doing it. Mikey shares that same instinct.

When he gets lost, he keeps walking. He finds home.

TLDR: Mikey centric angst where he keeps walking despite growing weaker.

Promise (ROTTMNT)

Summary: After the events of the movie, Mikey discovers that, with the increase in his mystic power, he gains the ability to see the future. However, every time he does, he forgets some of his present.

Year after year, a gift twists into a curse, crumbling the relationships between brothers and ultimately ending in a terrible price. But Mikey made a promise all those years ago, and intends to keep it.

TLDR: Mikey sees the future until he forgets everything of his present.

Vs The World (ROTTMNT)

Summary: The Kraang almost-invasion has been hard on the entire family. Michelangelo knows this, and knows he needs to be the one that keeps them all together, like stubborn orange glue.

But his brothers aren’t talking. They aren’t leaving their rooms, trapped in their own traumas. Mikey tries - so, so hard - but the silence is suffocating. He leaves the lair, only to find a stray cat left for dead. And suddenly, he isn’t alone anymore. But he is still breaking, slowly.

TLDR: Mikey find Klunk in the Rise universe whilst dealing with trauma and depression. I am bad at summaries, so give it a quick read if you want.

Wow, this is long. Happy reading @nat06cas, @brightlotusmoon and @sparklingsunkissedsoul and everyone else!

[wallterwall]

-Yum Zlurplie

You know what? Fuck you. You useless piece of shit. You absolute waste of space and air. You uneducated, ignorant, idiotic dumb swine, you’re an absolute embarrassment to humanity and all life as a whole. The magnitude of your failure just now is so indescribably massive that one hundred years into the future your name will be used as moniker of evil for heretics. Even if all of humanity put together their collective intelligence there is no conceivable way they could have thought up a way to fuck up on the unimaginable scale you just did. When Jesus died for our sins, he must not have seen the sacrilegious act we just witnessed you performing, because if he did he would have forsaken humanity long ago so that your birth may have never become reality. After you die, your skeleton will be displayed in a museum after being scientifically researched so that all future generations may learn not to generate your bone structure, because every tiny detail anyone may have in common with you degrades them to a useless piece of trash and a burden to society. No wonder your father questioned whether or not your were truly his son, for you'd have to not be a waste of carbon matter for anyone to love you like a family member. Your birth made it so that mankind is worse of in every way you can possibly imagine, and you have made it so that society can never really recover into a state of organization. Everything has forever fallen into a bewildering chaos, through which unrecognizable core, you can only find misfortune. I would say the apocalypse is upon us but this is merely the closest word humans have for the sheer scale of horror that is now reality. You have forever condemned everyone you love and know into an eternal state of suffering, worse than any human concept of hell. You are such an unholy being, that if you step within a one hundred foot radius of a holy place or a place that has ever been deemed important by anyone, your distorted sac religious soul will ruin whatever meaning it ever had beyond repair. You are an idiotic, shiteating, dumbass ape and no one has ever loved you. Rhodes Island would have been better off if you'd never joined us. You are a lying, backstabbing, cowardly useless piece of shit and I hate you with every single part of my being. Even this worlds finest writers and poets from throughout the ages could never hope to accurately describe the scale on which you just fucked up, and how incredibly idiotic you are. Anyone that believes in any religion out there should now realize that they have been wrong this entire time, for if divine beings were real, they would never have allowed a being such as you to stain the earth and this universe. In the future there will be horror stories made about you, with the scariest part of them being that the reader has to realize that such an indescribable monster actually exists, and that the horrific events from the movie have actually taken place in the same world that they live in right now. You are the absolute embodiment of everything that has ever been wrong on this earth, yet you manage to make it so that that is only a small part of the evil that is your being. Never in the history of mankind has there been anyone that could have predicted such an eldrich abomination, but here you are. It’s hard to believe that I am seeing such an incredible failure with my own eyes, but here I am, so unfortunately I cannot deny your existence. Even if I did my very best, my vocabulary is not able to describe the sheer magnitude of the idiotic mistake that is you. Even if time travel some day will be invented, there still would not be a single soul willing to go back in time to before this moment to fix history, because having to witness such incredible horrors if they failed would have to many mental and physical drawbacks that not even the bravest soul in history would be willing to risk it. I cannot imagine the pure dread your mother must have felt when she had to carry a baby for nine months and then giving birth to such a wretched monster as you.

Not a single word of the incoherent, illogical rambling you may be wanting to do to defend yourself or apologize would ever be able to make up for what you just did. The countries of the world would have wanted to make laws preventing such a terrible event like this from ever happening again, but sadly this is not possible since your horrific actions just now have shattered every form of order this world once had, making concepts such as laws irrelevant. Right from the moment I first set my eyes on you I knew you were an absolute abomination of everything that is wrong with humanity. I was hoping I would have been able to prevent your evil from being released upon this world by tagging along and keeping my eye on you, but it is clear to me now that not even the greatest efforts would have been able to prevent a terrible event in this scale from occurring. You are the worst human being, or even just being in general, that I have ever had the misfortune of witnessing. Events like the infected plague apparently only happened with the goal of teaching humanity to survive such a horrible event as the one you just created, but not even mankind’s greatest trials were able to even slightly prepare anyone for the insufferable evil you have just created. If you ever had them, your children would be preemptively killed to protect this universe from the possibility of anyone in your bloodline being even half as bad as you are, except you will never be able to have children, because not a single human being will ever want to come within a hundred mile radius of you and anything you have ever touched. You are a colossal disappointment not only to your parents, but to your ancestors and entire bloodline. The disgusting mistake that you have just made is so incredibly terrible that everyone who would ever be to hear about it would spontaneously feel an indescribable mixture of immense anger, fear and anxiety that emotionally and physically they would never truly be the same ever again. The sheer scale of your mistake, if ever to be materialized, would not only surpass the size of the world, but it would reach far beyond the edges of the known, and almost certainly the unknown universe. I could sit here and write paragraphs, nay, books describing your immense failure, yet even if I were to dedicate my life to describing the reality of what has just gone down here, and I would spend every moment of it until my heart stops beating working as hard and efficiently as possible, yet there is not even a snowballs chance in hell that I would be able to come close to transcribing the absolute shitshow you have just released upon the world. You are an irresponsible, idiotic, disgusting, unloved, horrible excuse for a living being who’s soul contains less humanity than every ginger in history combined. The absolute disgust I feel when thinking about anything that has even a slight resemblance to anything that might have to do with you and your unholy actions is so incredibly great that when I am honest about it I think that even I do not posses a consciousness great enough to comprehend my own feelings about it. When people of Columbia fought to break free from Lungmen, countless soldiers fought and lost their lives in favor of a chance at a better future for their children, they did not give their lives to have you fuck the world up beyond repair to the degree that you are doing right now. Honestly, even when technology advances and studies on the subject become more and more accurate, I do not think humanity will ever truly be able to understand what your failure actually means for the universe.

My hate for you and everything you stand for is so much deeper than the depths of Shambala that you could probably take the entire Lungmen population down there and back up around twenty million times before you would have sunk to the end of my hate, and honestly, I do not want to exaggerate, but I think that that insult was low balling it such a massive amount that all mountains in this world combined would not be able to stack up to this imprecise judgement in light of the fact that when being honest, my hate is almost certainly bottomless. There is no one in this world that has ever loved you, and especially after what you just did, no one will ever love you in the future either. There is no hope that your idiotic behavior and especially your crooked soul will ever change for the better, and in fact quite the opposite might be true. By making the mistake that you just did, you have shown me that you are so incredibly hopeless that you will only devolve into a more idiotic and wretched creature than you already are. The only possible way in which your future would be brighter than the black hole your existence currently is would exclusively be because there is absolutely no conceivable way that you would even be able to sink lower than the pathetic place your current failure has put you in. But then again, you are so incredibly abominable that you would probably be able to surpass the worst conceivable failure a living being could possibly make. You are so incredibly pathetic that you are honestly not worth any more of my words nor my time. Just remember that I will forever detest you for your failure and everything you stand for, and no matter what happens, I will never ever forgive you.

[allwormdiet]

Extermination 8.7

In which nobody is happy and everything is pain

Wuh oh, the worst chapter of Taylor's life has just received a series of footnotes that provide further context, and none of them are making her feel any better

And now things are getting even worse

Hey Colin, looks like you've lost some weight, trying something new with the asymmetrical look?

Also I like how even Taylor's paranoid ass is like "no you know what, they didn't need to know Sophia was a superhero for them to fuck me over"

Really copping it up in here, huh you two?

This is bad for everybody. A supervillain who's taken explicit actions against the PRT and Protectorate has discovered the identity of a Ward, and a teenage girl is being surrounded and lambasted by adults who could make her life Hell with very little effort.

God, Birdcage would be nightmarish, especially with Lung in there probably nursing the mother of all grudges

Also, interesting that Taylor changing her mind translates to Armsmaster as her being a master manipulator and spinner of lies. There's no possible way that she stopped trying to be a hero because he acted like a gigantic asshole the second time they met or something.

Skitter has gotten the absolute worse perspective that the heroes can offer, so she's suffering a biased stance here, but even without that her anti-authority streak is way too strong to tolerate it for long

Don't throw a fucking shitfit, Colin

You're an adult, fucking act like one

Yaaaaaaay, the crew's alright and they're backing Skitter up, there's no way this immediately blows up

Grue is making himself look bigger in this moment, scarier, more authoritative. If I'm understanding right that means he's way on the fucking edge about all of this and feeling tense and a little scared.

Glad Regent got out of it with only some stitches, wonder if that cut is anything noteworthy or if he just got gouged by some glass or shrapnel or something

Bitch is handling things about as well as could be expected

Hey Tattletale, glad you're not dead

Oh boy!

Sophia would fucking lunge across the tent and go for the murder attempt then and there, I'm pretty sure

Also, Legend is technically right, insofar as Taylor has made a lot of situations more difficult by digging her heels in

Unfortunately, he would.

Look at her getting her little debut to the Protectorate leader

The greatest asset and weakness of the Protectorate: image

These people are about to get their shit rocked by a teenager with access to a PA system and I'm not convinced they didn't bring this on themselves

Also, love an ultimatum, very heroic

Tattletale you're so cool and real for this

We love an ultimatum, very villainous

Colin, you dumbfuck

I think the most damning part of this conversation is that Miss Militia literally doesn't have any trouble connecting the dots

There's the setup

And there's the knockdown. Armsmaster has once again been outplayed by a teenager, and now the best thing to do is probably to quit while he's behind

So of course he decides to double and triple down

Let's review facts here

Armsmaster is a grown-ass man who is really upset that a pack of teenagers are beating him

He has admitted, out loud, that he broke truce conditions and got villains killed in order to try and get a moment of glory

He knows full well that at least two of the Undersiders have killed before and may kill again if suitably motivated, such as, I don't know, finding out a teammate tried to betray them

So with everything in consideration

he throws a tantrum that could get a girl killed because of wounded pride

This hurts, a lot

Also hey early hint that Tattletale knows what's up

Panacea like "wow this girl is some kind of disaster, thank god my worldview guarantees that I'm way better than her"

Also Jesus fucking Christ what a way to end the chapter

Current Thoughts

God fucking dammit Colin, you could literally get a teenager killed because you had to throw a fucking tantrum over how you got your kill stolen and your super cool plan to win glory and recover lost pride got foiled by the common fucking sense of "you can't kill an Endbringer"

I know that isn't what happens, but hey guess what he doesn't know Taylor's story goes for another twenty-plus chapters, he's willing to roll those dice because his feewings got huwt

I hope they make him choke on whatever book ends up thrown at him for this

[frogmanfae]

Anthony Lockwood x GN! Reader- You Too? (FLUFF with a little bit of angst)

Summary: Anthony can't sleep at night. You can't sleep at night. Most of the time you avoid running into each other, but one fateful night of tears in the basement leads to an awkward bedroom experience.

A/n: this one is quite a bit longer than my other ones, about 4,000 words. I think it came out pretty well. Please don't make this dirty, I beg of you. It really is just awkwardness that happens to occur in a bed it isn't anything spicy.

Reader pov

There are nights where I can't bear to be in my room. I'm not sure why. Perhaps I need a break from such mundane consistency. I just need to see something other than those walls.

On these nights, I usually make myself some tea and go to the basement. I'd much rather sit in the library, but Lockwood is in there most nights. Nobody ever comes down to the basement. I'm alone with only my thoughts and my tea.

I don't quite understand why my room has this effect on me sometimes. When my parents died, my room was my safe haven. My refuge. My sanctuary. So now that I'm in a new environment, it makes little sense to me that it can feel more like solitary confinement. It makes even less sense that I'm soothed by the concrete and dust of the basement.

Tonight is one of those nights. It's probably three in the morning as I sit on the floor leaned against the wall, sipping my tea. I'm a listener, like Lucy (though not nearly as powerful) so a moment of silence is rare, but extremely calming. To use my power and hear nothing is bliss.

I've only about half way finished my tea when someone comes down the stairs, clearly laser focused on something. We're in the middle of a big case, so that's probably it. I had expected it to be George doing some late research or maybe Lucy to see if she can listen to any of the sources down here and get a lead.

To my surprise, it's the other one.

I watch silently as Lockwood pulls out several files and spreads them out on a table. He seems extra stiff, like something is really bothering him. He grumbles something in frustration before collecting the files and putting them back in the cabinet.

He walks over to my wall and sits down a couple feet away. From what I can tell, he hasn't noticed me.

I'm right here, isn't your talent supposed to be sight?

I simply continue sipping on my tea, remaining quiet and looking forward to not disturb him, though he really is an idiot if he doesn't know I'm here.

I thought for a moment that he actually did see me, but he needed space and realized I needed the same so he just didn't acknowledge it. I was certain on this until I heard him crying.

I look over at him. He's still wearing dress pants and his button up and tie. He's still got on his dress shoes. However, his hair was a mess and his hands were currently tangled in the back locks, only making it worse. His face was buried in his knees. I swear I heard a tear drop on to the floor. He was quietly sobbing, clearly trying to not alert anyone but still in pain. Emotional pain, anyhow.

I debate what I should do for a moment. I don't want to startle him, and honestly he seems like he needs this. I decide to just keep drinking my tea and not look at him. I'll let him get it all out before I make my presence known.

It lasts longer than I thought. Perhaps ten minutes? I'm not the best with comprehending passage of time but that seems right enough. Regardless of the details, it was a long time to sit here holding my breath and listening to his suffering.

Finally, he sniffs and wipes his eyes. I'm still looking straight ahead holding my cup, only seeing him out of my peripheral vision. He runs his hands back and forth over his hair a few times. I close my eyes.

"JESUS FUCKI-"

I snap my head towards Lockwood. He's now on his back with his legs closest to me, propped up on one arm and looking at me as if I'm a ghost. I can properly see his face now. His dark circles seem more prominent than usual and his eyes are red and puffy. His nose is red. His cheeks are discolored. He looks abnormally pale. His lashes have been thickened and darkened by his tears. It was truly a sight.

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HERE?"

"I was here before you."

"AND YOU DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING? YOU SAW ALL OF THAT?"

"Shhh you'll wake up the others, we both know how lightly George sleeps while we're in the midst of a case. Anyhow, you seemed like you needed it. I didn't want to interrupt. It's not like I watched you."

"But... You saw it all. You heard everything!"

"Lockwood, I hope you realize I think no less of you."

"What?"

"I- oh gosh you can't be comfortable like that. Sit up, why don't you?" He hesitantly pushes himself up and leans against the wall again. "I'm worried about you."

"Theres no need to be-"

"Bullshit. You can't keep concealing your emotions like this. It's okay to be overwhelmed or stressed or overall upset for any reason. You always act like everything is wonderful but it's not. I don't know if it ever has been."

He looks down. "(Y/n)... It's not that easy-"

"I never said anything about it being easy. Of course it's hard. I can't even imagine how you feel owning an agency so young, having all that pressure on your shoulders. It's terrifying to be vulnerable."

"Is that why you're in the basement in the early hours of the morning, drinking herbal tea?"

I hum. "I just couldn't sleep, and I like herbal tea."

"Now who's bullshitting?" The corners of his mouth tug up in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You much prefer green. Herbal simply calms you down. You only ever drink herbal tea when you're upset."

"How..."

"I notice things, (y/n). Lots of things. Don't think I don't hear the kettle during the midnight hours at least three times a week. The peculiar thing is I never hear anyone go back up the stairs and whenever I go into the kitchen, it's empty."

I look down. How'd he make this about me so quickly?

"Tell me, (y/n), do you spend your nights in the basement often?"

"... No. Only when I can't sleep."

"So... Often." He nods. "Why don't you stay in the library? It's much more inviting."

"I don't want to bother you. That's where you are most nights."

"You could never bother me."

"Stop, you were the one crying a few moments ago, this isn't about me."

He sighs. "It was worth a shot."

"Now, what's bothering you?"

"Uh... Nothing, really."

"Lockwood."

"It's just the case, that's all."

"That's a lie and we both know it."

He let's out a noise of exasperation. "Fine, you really want to know? It's my parents."

"Your parents?" I ask softly as I scoot closer to him.

He nods. "They died when I was six years old. You really have no idea what it's like to have such a great life until suddenly you don't and it all gets ripped away from you without warning and nobody will take you in so you have to fend for yourself before your age even reaches double digits."

"Actually... I think I can relate more than you realize."

"How can you possibly relate?" He almost sounds angry. I don't blame him, I never told him my story. I kept it to myself even after living with other people all this time. I moved here with a purpose, to start new. Therefore, my past never happened according to anyone else. I was another person then. I've left all of that behind, taking only the nightmares and memories with me.

"My parents were murdered when I was eight." I look straight ahead. "Nobody really wants to adopt a kid who's just began to really get strong in their talent for hearing brutal murders and death. It freaks adults out. So I was on my own until I found you guys."

His expression softens. "(Y/n), I'm so sorry, I... Wait, you were fourteen when you applied. That's six years."

"It was hard but I managed. The whole ghost hunting agent thing isn't so bad. Once you've been forced to watch your parents get nothing short of quartered right in front of your sensitive, innocent eyes, you can watch anyone else get ghost touched no big deal."

"I'm sorry, quartered?" His eyes are wide.

"Yeah, are you familiar with the French Revolution?"

"I'm familiar enough to hope you were talking about a different type of quartering."

I shook my head. "It was intense. I still think of it every time I close my eyes."

"I can't even imagine..."

"I didn't tell you this for you to feel sorry for me. I only wanted you to know I'll understand. You aren't as alone as you believe."

He nods slowly. "I see... Thank you... For sharing, I mean."

"Of course. So now that you know I can at least sort of understand what you're feeling, what's going on with you?"

He sighs. "I don't know... Sometimes I just..."

"Miss them?"

"... Yeah." He nods. "Yeah I miss them a lot. I miss them all the time but sometimes when I think about it it's not so bad, it's let me do what I've done, accomplish all of this. Other times..."

"It's mentally suffocating."

"Mentally suffocating... Yeah that's a good word for it. Like it's put a sheet over your brain to prevent it from getting oxygen, but you can still physically breathe with your lungs for the most part."

I nod. "Yeah, it's frightening. George has a book on it he was telling me about some time."

"George knows you feel like this sometimes?"

"No, but we often discuss our readings, trade books, recommend authors or titles... Things of the sort. I haven't told anyone about my past. Except you of course."

"Well aren't I special," he flashes one of his signature Lockwood smiles.

I roll my eyes. "Don't let it get to your head, your ego is already so inflated I fear it might burst."

"Oh haha you love my charisma."

"Is that what we're calling it?" I smile at him.

He laughs. Not his public press laugh, but a true, genuine laugh. One that I've never heard from him before. It makes me feel a little bit warmer with emotion.

"You know, most nights I stay awake in the library simply because I can't stand the solitude of my room."

"What?"

"I know, it's silly-"

"No, not at all! I come down here for the same reason!"

"You do?" He raises his eyebrows, sounding surprised. "I thought you just worried over cases or, well now I thought you thought about your past but-"

"No, it's like..." I think for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it into words. "Like the silence is too loud and the space is too big for just me, even though my bed hardly fits properly."

"Exactly! Like I don't have anything to focus on except for the sensory deprivation and my anxieties."

"Yes! Oh my goodness I can't believe you get it!"

"I thought I was the only one!" He laughs again, different this time. It sounds almost relieved. "Say... Maybe we could help each other out."

I raise an eyebrow. "Help each other out? How so?"

"Well, feel free to decline if you want and we'll never speak of this proposal again, but perhaps we could try spending the night in the same room."

"But..." I get that warm feeling again, more intense this time. "Each room only has one bed..."

"Yes well..." Despite the horrid lighting of the basement, I could faintly see a light pink tint spanning across his nose and blotching on other, seemingly random, spots on his face. "Like I said I understand if you decline and if that is your choice we can pretend I never said anything... However... I feel it may be beneficial to the both of us to have a... companion in the lonely, deafeningly silent hours of the night. If it works, splendid we can finally get some proper sleep. If it doesn't, we each return to our respective seperate rooms and carry on as if nothing ever happened."

"..." I nod slowly. "Okay."

"Ah- really?" He turns to face me more. "In all honesty I thought you would detest the idea."

"Do you still want-"

"Yes! I mean," he clears his throat, "uh... Yeah, the offer still stands."

"Perfect."

"Well then." He stands up and offers me his hand. "Shall we?"

"Oh you mean like right now! Alright then." I take his hand and he pulls me up. He chuckles and leads me to his room.

"I uh... I'll go take this cup back to the kitchen and let you get changed and what not."

"Oh- right." He pushes back some of his hair. "I'll only be a minute or two."

"Okay, I'll be waiting for whenever you're ready."

He smiles at me as he steps back into his room and closes the door. I swiftly make my way to the kitchen and set my cup in the sink, resolving to wash it in the morning, and return in under a minute.

I wait outside for only about thirty seconds longer before Lockwood opens the door again.

"Sorry I took so long."

"Long? Lockwood that was- wait."

"What? Is something the matter?" He takes his hand off of the door handle and peeks his head out around the corner.

"No, just... You're wearing a shirt."

"Oh, well..." He stepped aside, inviting me in, and closed the door behind me "Yes in fact I am. What about it?"

"Lockwood you've never worn a shirt to bed in all the time I've been here. It's like an unspoken principle in the house; you don't wear shirts to bed and George doesn't wear trousers."

"I didn't realize it was such a disruption of order-"

"Well- that's not what I'm saying." I sigh. I've always struggled with putting things into the right words. "Obviously it's fine if you wear a shirt to bed, I just... I'm just wondering why all of a sudden?"

"Well... I don't know. I suppose I thought you may be a bit uncomfortable sharing a bed with me when I've no shirt on." He looked down, those pink splotches returning to his face. "After all, this is only an arrangement of convenience and practicality. It's not like were... uh... going out... or anything..."

"Ah, right..." I can feel myself getting flustered. "Well... I don't mind, really. The whole point is to feel more comfortable going to sleep so if you feel more comfortable with no shirt on, honestly it doesn't make any difference to me."

"... Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, really." I smile reassuringly. "Whatever makes you fall asleep best."

He hesitates. "Well, if you're absolutely positive-"

"Lockwood, I promise you."

He hums lowly. "Alright then. But if you change your mind just tell me and I'll put it back on straight away, I swear-"

"Lockwood!"

"Alright, okay! If you're sure-"

"I'm sure."

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, a smile gracing his face. It isn't one of his signature smiles, it's real, quite boyish actually. He seems so young. Sometimes I forget how young we really are, but then again, all youth since The Problem has forgotten how young they really are.

I try my best to appear to be disinterested and looking away as he removes his shirt and folds it, neatly placing it in the bottom right drawer of his dresser. Of course, I watch the whole thing unfold. I'm only trying to appear as if I'm not.

"Alright, well..." He awkwardly rubs his arm. I've never seen him seem so nervous before. "I suppose now is when we uh... get into bed, then..."

"Yes it does seem like that happens now..." I slowly nod.

"Well uhm... After you." He gestures toward the bed.

"Oh no, please, it's your bed, you go ahead first." I wave my hands.

"No no I insist. You're my... guest? Is that the appropriate term for this? What do we call this?" He lets out a breathy chuckle. "Sorry, I'm a bit..."

"Nervous?"

"To say the least."

We both laugh a little bit. There really was no need for it to be so nerve wrecking. We had already agreed that if it doesn't go well we pretend nothing happened. Nobody needs to know.

"Here, why don't we just both get in at the same time?" I offer.

"Yes! Yes, that sounds like a good idea." He goes to the side of the bed opposite of me.

It's still extremely tense as the both of us climb in under the covers. There's plenty of space in between us. I'm nearly hanging off the edge, no doubt Lockwood is as well.

Fuck it.

I move onto the bed more so I'm a comfortable ways on. "Lockwood?"

"Yes?"

"Can I be frank for a moment?"

"Well I think I'd prefer you to stay (y/n) but I suppose whatever makes you happy-"

"Oh shut up." He laughs one of those real laughs again. I nearly melt.

"What would you like to talk about?"

I take a deep breath, admittedly, his joke (however stupid) managed to cut some of the tension. "This isn't going to work unless we get over ourselves and actually share the bed. Like real sharing."

He pauses. "You're right. The question is, how far are we going?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... Well..." He huffs. "If we're being frank-"

"I prefer Anthony, but I suppose-"

"Oh shut up, it really isn't funny." Despite his words, he was smiling again. "I see your point now."

"Well, what is it you were going to say, Frank?"

"Please don't." He laughs, making me smile more.

"I'm listening."

He inhales deeply. "Well, how far are we going as in... Are we simply laying next to one another and trying to go to sleep or... to be blunt, are we spooning?"

I nearly chocked on my own saliva. Blunt was certainly one way to say it.

"Well... Whatever makes you comfortable. Honestly I think it would work best if we... Uh... Did the latter, but I don't want to make you-"

"I was actually hoping you'd say that-"

He sighs, sounding almost... Relieved?"

"Really?"

"Yes, I-" he rolls over, bringing us from being over a foot apart to our noses now almost touching. "Goodness you are much closer than I thought-"

"Sorry, I-" I start to move back, but he puts his hand on my waist, gently stopping me.

"No no I uh... Well if we're going to uh... You know, uhm, we're going to have to be close anyway so..."

"Right, yeah..."

He softly pulls me closer using his hand that still rests on my waist. I move towards him until my hands are pressed to his chest and our legs are touching under the covers. His face is splotchy red again, the most intense I've ever seen it, though I can't imagine how flustered I must appear.

"Uhm... May I?" He starts to wrap his leg around mine.

"Ah..." I nod, unable to trust my voice.

And so now we lay here, about two seconds away from being puddles of awkwardness and mild embarrassment. He's warm. Very warm. It's kind of nice being this close to him.

I've always found him attractive since the moment I saw him. He is, objectively, a good looking guy.

Then I got to know him a little bit. He and I would often bicker and pester one another, some times seemingly more serious than others, but for the most part it was all in jest. Making jabs at each other is just what we do.

I think I fell for him more and more over my time here, but tonight I saw a new side of him. A side that really pushed me over the edge of having a bit of a crush on him to trying to stop myself from kissing him at any given moment.

"(Y/n)? Are you alright?" He brings a hand up to my forehead. "You're awful warm and you look... Distressed."

"Anthony?"

His gaze softened. I don't think anyone has called him that in... well who knows how long? Too long. "Yes? Is something the matter?"

"No I just..." I make eye contact with him, effectively rendering myself speechless.

He inches closer. "Are you sure? This is quite the... intimate position... I wouldn't want to make you..."

By this time, our noses are back to almost touching, but even closer than before. He tilts his head just enough to avoid colliding them.

"Make me what? Uncomfortable?" I glance down at his lips, quickly looking back to his eyes to avoid suspicion. "Anthony, you could never-"

He kisses me.

Holy shit.

Anthony Lockwood is kissing me.

I'm in Anthony Lockwood's bed.

I'm kissing Anthony Lockwood!

"I'm sorry-" he pulls back. "Oh no... I shouldn't have done that... Shit... Oh shit I'm so sorry-"

I kiss him again. "Shut up, will you? I just had a life altering moment here and I'm trying to enjoy it."

"You- you liked it?"

"Of course I did. Anthony, I've liked you since... Well I suppose there wasn't a single moment I could pick out but-"

"I love it when you call me that."

I smile. "Call you what? Anthony? Well that is your name."

"It hasn't been used in years. Not by itself, anyhow. It sounds nice coming from your lips."

"I like your lips." It takes a moment to register what I just said. "Wait, I didn't mean-"

"You like kissing me~" He teases me, putting on his Lockwood Smile.

"Oh shut up!" I put my head on his chest to hide my face. "Of course I do..."

"Well... You know what I would like more than just kissing you?" He carefully lifts my head up with two fingers under my chin.

"Hm?"

He hesitates for a moment. "I'd like to be your boyfriend."

"What? Really?"

"If you'll have me, that is-"

"Of course I'll have you, you prick!" I lightly punch his chest. "Do you know how long I've wanted to tell you that?"

He shakes his head. "I can't say I do."

"Well there wasn't a specific time but I think I started to think about it more and more around the time we were working the Brentic case."

"The B- (y/n) that was at least a year and a half ago."

"I'm well aware."

"... Huh."

"What?"

"I think I've known since the Dalkins case."

"Lockwood, that was long before the Brentic case-"

"It seems my charm worked then."

"Oh shut up! Go to sleep!"

He laughs a bit. "So... Are we...?"

"... I think we are..."

"Wonderful! Splendid! Perfect! Grand! Fanta-"

I laugh. "Anthony shut up!"

He goes quiet, but the smile remains on his face. "Do we tell the others?"

"... Nah. It's funnier if we just let them figure it out. But we don't necessarily have to hide it either."

He nods. "It'll take all my self control to not shout it from the rooftops."

"Oh hush." I roll my eyes, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. "Get some sleep, lover boy. You clearly need it."

He kisses me once more, shorter this time, before closing his eyes and pulling me closer to his chest. He falls asleep surprisingly quickly, his breaths going even and his mouth falling slightly agape in no time at all.

I watch him for a moment. Once again, he really shows his age for only a second. I push some of his hair away from his face and place a kiss on his forehead, causing him to stir just a bit.

Before I know it, my eyelids feel heavy. It becomes increasingly harder to keep them open, to stay awake. Soon enough, I'm drifting into sleep with pleasant dreams to greet me and Lockwood by my side.

How lucky am I?