#ik he feels terrible and i’m like. good. feel worse. fucking idiot.

[ghostzzy]

she’s stable and she’s doing a little better and we can probably pick her up tonight if the fluids help as much as they expect them to. fuck. ok. we're okay.

[lilikags]

ೃ‧₊› a b o u t  t h i s  p o s t° ➮ Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader ➮ Oneshot ➮ Tags: fluff ➮ Word Count: 2182

A/N: This is for @serowotonin​! [for Luna’s Valentines Day collab] Ik I said I was doing Atsumu bc “I was bored” but I always say “imagine being bored” and truly, I haven’t been bored for so long. I forgot that this was for the collab for a fat moment then when you saw the preview I was like, “Wait- no- it’s a surprise.” 

Premise: You and Atsumu are cleaning out the apartment, when you find a few letters you thought you would never see again… 

“Oi, (y/n), look at what I found,” you heard Atsumu say, leaning over the contents of a drawer he had been sifting through. 

“What?” you walked over to see what he had found. The two of you were cleaning out the apartment, as you were going to be moving out soon. Atsumu had a habit of keeping things that connected him to an important memory of his, unless he wanted to forget it- and this was one of them. You didn’t know he kept them- actually, it did make sense of him to, but you had simply forgotten about it and you somehow expected the same for him. You looked down to see what he had in his hands, and your face literally went emotionless as you saw the letter in his hands. 

You really didn’t mind the letters, for the most part. Actually, they held dear to you. However, that first one… you were grateful for it, but you also remembered just how bad you wanted to buy a grave space and bury it for eternity back then... 

Miya Atsumu.

This was a dare. This is a love letter. For Valentines. Happy valentines day. If you have extra chocolate, send me some. 

Sincerest thanks, (y/n). 

Atsumu usually threw away the letters he received every Valentines. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude; it was just that there were too many letters for him to read (and reply to), so he usually just threw them out. Osamu often teased him for this; he boasted that he at least read his letters.

“Oi, ‘Samu, look at this one,” Atsumu called out to his brother. 

“What?” Osamu looked at him, with a face of disbelief. “Yer actually lookin’ at them?”

“Nah, not really, but this one’s hilarious,” Atsumu laughed. 

“Okay, not funny, keep yer lame humor to yourself.” 

----------------

“(y/n), truth or dare,” (b/f/n) asked. 

You smiled, “Dare.” 

“Hmmm… alright, send a love letter to Miya Atsumu- it has to be at least one line long.”

“I’m- okay then.” 

You brought out a piece of paper, wrote the first things that came to mind, and once you reached one line, you stopped. You folded the paper and grabbed whatever envelope you could find and sealed it with tape. The dare required actually giving the letter, much to your dismay, but it wasn’t like you could back down from a dare. After all, it was (b/f/n), and the nonstop teasing would definitely occur if you failed to complete the dare. 

Dearest (y/n), 

I did in fact receive your rather interesting letter, and I have decided to bring you some chocolate as you wished. I wish you, as well, a very happy valentine’s day this year.

Most sincerely, Atsumu. 

Atsumu was intrigued enough to write a reply; in fact, he decided to write in the most formal way possible. He knew from the letter that you were either a tsundere or someone who was actually dared to do so, and decided that it would be fun entertainment for the both of you. 

When you received the letter, you were surprised to see a reply. It was known he didn’t send out replies, yet you had received one. As you read it, you felt a need to reply; you’d simply feel bad if you didn’t. However, what was there to talk about? How the chocolates were good? He had stuck it on your first period desk, out in the open. And you also sincerely wondered what was with the overly formal tone. You do remember writing the most shitty letter you’ve ever written to him, and that volleyball-obsessed dude just writes something formal to you? Baffles the mind.

Well, then, if he was going to reply, you would too. 

Miya Atsumu,

Thanks for the chocolate- your fans make pretty good chocolate, I have to say. Bet I could make better chocolate than ya, ‘cause all ya focus on is just volleyball. Anyways, what was with the overly formal tone- ya like me or somethin’? Would be funny if ya did and I turned ya down. XD  

(y/n) 

You never really thought of Miya Atsumu, but this really sparked your interest. It was amusing, his reactions. It was definitely something you didn’t expect- you actually didn’t expect a reply at all. The reply you received was definitely out of the ordinary as well, one you never thought a hotshot volleyball player would write. It seemed he was interested in you in some ways- and you as well. 

(y/n),

Pfffft, you think I might like ya? I just thought yer letter was interestin’, that’s all. Ya really think I can’t make chocolate? Bet I could make better chocolate than ya, I’ll show you. I make you chocolate myself and we’ll see how it tastes. Just you watch, I’ll make ya say I make the best chocolate ever! 

Atsumu. 

You saw that in your shoe locker the next morning- and everyone saw it. You were beginning to regret actually replying to him, but there was no backing out now. (b/f/n) really hit the goal here, for her. People were probably talking about it. It’s always some event that involves romance that catches everyone’s eye. And since it was just after valentine’s, everyone would automatically assume it was a love letter. In reality, it was simply a little bit of playful banter. 

You wondered if people actually knew who it was. You hoped not; it would gather way too much attention for your liking. You’d have an entire fanclub after you, and it was definitely (b/f/n)’s fault that you got into this entire mess. You had absolutely no idea if anyone saw him slip that into your shoe locker, since it had probably been there for a good hour or so before you and most of the other students got there. In any case, there was nothing you could do about people knowing things they already know, so you headed onto class. It was exam week, and you sighed; it would be a long day. 

When you arrived at homeroom, you were not-so-pleasantly surprised with what you found at your desk. You just wanted a quiet day; go to school, take the tests, and get out so you could relax at home. But no, you just had to see this and you knew there was a thing called rumors you had to deal with. Well, you could just be like “whatever” and not care, but you definitely knew who’d be after you, for real. Atsumu’s fanbase was quite scary, and definitely large- a group of people one would regret messing with. 

“Ugh- what am I going to do with this chocolate now, he gave me a lot yesterday…” 

“(y/n)! Oiiii, you got chocolate?! From who from who-”

“(b/f/n), if you say a word, you are going to be dead to me.”

“...” she looked away, but then turned to you again and whispered in your ear. “So, Miya Atsumu, who has a fanbase, likes you.” 

“I’m- no-”

“But what I’m seeing says otherwise?”

“Ugh, you’re coming to my house and you are going to pay for that dare.” 

“Oh ho ho, seems like I started something…” “Bet you did.”

Pisshead Atsumu

LMAO bet ya didn’t make the chocolate, yer terrible at lying <///3 seen this chocolate before. And like wtf you put a box of chocolate on my desk with YOUR NAME on it. Ya know that people will do a thing called assuming things, right? Smh, think before you act. Anyways, I’m counting on ya to fix up this mess.

(y/n)

When you finished class, the first thing you did was write the note. You were absolutely paranoid with this mess, and you were going to have Atsumu fix it. Yes, you did technically initiate contact first, but that was (b/f/n)’s fault and this could’ve avoided this if he hadn’t pulled off a whole stunt. 

It was already around 6 when he saw the note. A small smirk filled his expression, he was so sure that he would be able to get a good reaction out of (y/n). It was written on scrap paper, the back of a phys. ed worksheet. You wrote it in a rush, very obviously. That wasn’t really what caught his attention though; he was puzzled as to how he would fix this. Tell his fans to fuck off? Osamu would tease him for eternity.

“Oi, what’cha starin’ at?” he heard Osamu nag. “Mom’s waitin’ for us for dinner.”

“Hey, ‘Samu…  ya know how to fix this?” 

“... ARE YOU AN IDIOT- YOU ARE AN IDIOT.”

“I AM NOT! YOU ARE THE IDIOT HERE!” 

“SAYS THE ONE WHO GOT INTO A MESS LIKE THIS!” 

“Oi, ya shouldn’t be fightin’ at this hour,” the two heard Kita say, as he gave them a certain look. “... ‘m sorry…” the twins apologized.

Even after a fulfilling dinner made by their mother and a nice, hot shower, Atsumu still couldn’t think of a solution. Osamu almost snitched on him, but he decided that there was enough on their mom’s plate of problems at the moment. 

“What if ya said you were dating?” Osamu offered. 

“HAH?! ARE YA INSANE?!” Atsumu yelled at him.

“That would explain what happened at valentine’s.” 

“But there’s nothin’ between us-”

“Yer fanclub wouldn’t really believe anythin’ else.”

“Yeah…” 

(y/n),

Can we meet when practice ends at 6 on Thursday?

M. Atsumu.

“... I’m- Is he just going to apologize then run away? Tch.” you sighed. You had the idea that Miya Atsumu was overconfident and carefree, but not to this extent. The least he could do was fix this- he had power over his fandom and what people said about him, unlike you. You had to go, it wasn’t like you really had much of a choice if you wanted to talk it out and fix it. 

“Hey, (y/n) are you and Atsumu dating?” one of your classmates asked, and a bunch of others hovered around the table, waiting to hear a response. (b/f/n) had told you rumors had spread around the entire school; you figured that would’ve happened. Any topic related to the twins spread like wildfire, especially the blonde-haired one. 

“... Can you not try to pry into my private life?” you replied, which you instantly realized was exactly a wrong answer to give. This implied that you were in fact dating Atsumu secretly, and you just made your life 10x worse. You figured you should just tell everyone what had happened, then the blame would be on (b/f/n)- it should preferably be placed on Atsumu, since he started it, really. 

When you met him at 6pm, you expected no contribution from him. Instead, you were met with a solid plan for something you weren’t really happy about, but it seemed the easiest to convince the public of a story they put out. 

“(y/n)... let’s tell them that we’re dating.”

“Hmm… well, they already think that…”

“I’m sorry… I wasn’t thinking…” “It’s fine. All we can do is move forward, I guess.”

“Yeah… ‘Samu gave me this solution; it’s all I have, I’m sorry if it’s-”

“It’s fine. Let’s go through with it. Just protect me from the crazy fangirls; that’s all I want.”

“Ya.” 

“And we’ll need to put together a coherent story; what’s yer number?” 

“Ahaha, seriously, maybe (b/f/n)’s a prophet. She told me that she was aiming for somethin’ to happen between us,” you commented, remembering what happened years and years ago. 

“Ya were just so unnecessarily worried about the fangirls,” Atsumu mentioned. 

“Oi! Yer fangirls were hella scary back then…” 

That night, you stayed up coming up with a story, which ended with the two of you breaking up so that you could go on your separate ways again. However, the story didn’t last too long, as (b/f/n)’s parent’s investigations went a little too far and spread the truth a little too much. (b/f/n) is one thing, but you had almost forgotten her parents were another, seriously. They’d been a little busy over the last few years, thus the lack of investigations of local drama, but they had been doing so for decades, what could you expect from them? 

Nothing was Atsumu’s fault to the fanclub, unless he seriously convinced them that it was. You were guilty until proven innocent. Unbeknownst to you until after, he gave them a whole (to be honest, not-so-great) speech on how he kind of went too far with the joke, but also placed the blame on everyone else for assuming things. People were absolutely ridiculous; their ideas and their insane imagination should learn that the left side of the brain exists too. 

“Funny how we met again after college, after all that time.”

“Ya… a real wonder” 

Another A/N: OMG THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR ‘TSUMU FORGIVE ME IF I WROTE HIM LIKE, WRONG IN THIS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

『••✎••』 Extra Info * ˚ ✦ ⇢ If you would like to read some of my other works, find them here! * ˚ ✦ ⇢ Taglist: @serowotonin​ @luna-la-ley​ // send me an ask if you would like to be added!

[argylemikewheeler]

| Richie misses his life in Maine– and someone in particular– and Mike realizes that Will moving away from Hawkins is making him feel the same way |

Standing at the kitchen sink, Mike could smell the smoke floating up from the backyard. He placed his cup down and yanked the window open the rest of the way, just enough for him to lean over and stick his head out. Richie was sitting, cross-legged and barefoot in the grass, head against the house paneling and glasses hanging on his shirt collar. He held a lit cigarette in his right hand, while his left held a piece of folded paper again his chest. The ripped envelope laid carefully between some untrimmed blades of grass.

“Mom’s going to kill you, you know that?” Mike said loudly.

Richie jerked and opened his eyes, but blinked the shock from his face. “Oh yeah? Well whose do you think these are? Holly’s?”

“Just because you found them in her dresser doesn’t mean they’re hers.” Mike sighed. “They’re the same ones she took from you last week.”

“As far as I’m concerned, these are Mom’s cigarettes. She’s the one with the nasty habit.” Richie rebutted, letting his eyes close again.

“You better put that out. The house is going to reek.”

“Eh, better than that fucking shit and piss candle Mom’s got burning.” Richie said, lifting his hand to wave Mike away.

“It’s peony, Richie.”

“It’s putrid.”

“Would you just put it out?” Mike insisted, wiping his hands. He leaned back onto his feet and walked through the kitchen to the backdoor. He unlocked the door– which if it was locked, Mike wasn’t sure how Richie got outside unless he used the windows… which might probably have been it– and poked his head outside. “Richie, I’m not kidding. Put it out.”

“No.” Richie rebutted quickly, but seemed to lack all fire in his shot back. He sounded tired; his head only lolling to the side to face Mike. He squinted against the sunshine and his nearsightedness.

“Rich, come on.” Mike stepped down from the porch quickly, his bare feet sliding in the grass, as he reached over for Richie’s cigarette. It still rested only in his hand. “Give it to me!”

“Hey, fuck off, shitbird!” Richie cried, twisting and falling onto his back. He stuck a foot out and nearly pushed Mike in the stomach. “Leave me alone!”

“Before Mom comes back, just put it out!”

“NO! I’m not even smoking it!” Richie argued, pointing at the slow column of ash forming at the end of the cigarette. Mike blinked at him– he wasn’t born yesterday. “I’m not. I’m really not. Promise. I’m just… lighting it.”

“What, like an incense? What do you think I am, Richie. A fucking idiot?” Mike retorted, yanking his brother upright.

Upon putting his glasses back on, Richie’s face didn’t unfurrow; he still looked pensive and sharp. He looked angry, but not at Mike or even the prospect of their mother grounding him. His eyes were red, only if Mike caught them in the right light. He’d been crying– but no, Richie never cried. Not like this.

“Well?” Mike continued, unsure what to say. It was obvious to them both what he’d been doing. “What are you doing, Dick?”

“I always thought I was addicted to this shit.” Richie sighed, clenching his jaw. He was speaking against his will, but for some reason all lies felt useless between them. “Turns out… I just miss Eddie.”

“Oh.” Mike eased himself down into the grass beside his brother. A quick glance to the envelope showed the return address to be the Kaspbrak household, all the way back in Maine.

There had been a few stories from Richie’s years with their aunt, Eddie’s name– Eds– peppered in sparingly and safely. Mike hadn’t thought to truly consider what it meant at the time, but it was becoming startlingly familiar. Using Will’s name in a story– one that would come bounding from his lips the moment it happened– was a game, strategically placing his name after two others or at the end, as if he wasn’t the first thought. No one was paying any attention, but Mike was. He had something to hide. And apparently so did Richie.

“I know. Stupid, right? So fucking corny.” He didn’t acknowledge the secret, only his embarrassing way to cope with the distance.

“That’s not stupid. No, that’s… that’s…”

“Really fucking sappy. I know.” Richie took a long inhale but kept the cigarette by his side. “We used to hang over this one bridge in town and share them. I used to think it was the nicotine that had me but, turns out…” He waved his hand out: it was Eddie.

“And we moved you away.” Mike sighed, feeling gutted. Sure, Will had moved away and left Mike feeling all sorts of ungrounded and anxious, but Mike was still in his home, reaching for Will. The Wheelers had taken Richie themselves and pulled him from Eddie; he was the one that was taken away, that had to deliver the news he’d be putting distance between them.

“He knows, so it’s not too bad.” Richie muttered. Oh, that was something Richie had over Mike; he’d never learned to speak any of his feelings aloud. “That’s what the letters are; something more permanent than a phone call.”

Richie’s voice was wobbling and his bottom lip quivered; Mike couldn’t stand to watch his brother break down and quickly scrambled for a joke– any joke.

“Does he write you love poems and shit?” He nudged Richie’s arm. He nearly tipped over.

“No.” Richie sniffled. He finally put the cigarette out on a out-of-place stone by his feet. “I write him about my day– things that I’m not going to tell him on the phone with fucking Ted around thinking scanning my calls is part of good parenting–”

“Understood.” Mike grumbled.

“and he just sends back his day. Signs it the same way: he won’t forget me.” He laughed wetly, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “My spaghetti won’t ‘forgetti’.”

Richie chuckled again to himself, but Mike was left still and silent. That was kind of the saddest thing he’d ever heard.

“Richie–”

“I know it’s stupid and I love our friends here at home but, I love my friends up there and I want to go back and see them but Auntie fucking hates me because I’m such a fucking handful and I can’t stay with Eddie and his mom– no fucking way– and I can’t stay with Bev because that’s a shit idea and Stan does not deserve to have me constantly under his roof and I sure as fuck can’t ask Mom or Dad to have Eddie stay over. That’s a surefire way to get both my prescription and teeth knocked out.”

“I- uh–” Mike wasn’t sure what to say. Richie was right.

“And if I have to wait until I have somewhere else to stay to see them, it might be a year before I see Eddie again. A year. That’s so long. That’s impossible to ask of him. Or anyone. And he’s just gonna… He’ll forget me. Act like I never existed– and I mean, he should! I’m a terrible, terrible friend.”

“That’s not true.” Mike grabbed his brother’s hand. The touch spoiled the rest of his sentences; this was so unlike them. “D-Do you worry about that a lot?”

“Oh come on, are you telling me you don’t feel that same way about Will?” Richie sniffled sharply, taking a long inhale.

Mike felt as if he had taken a drag of Richie’s cigarette. “Uh, that’s completely different.” He choked out.

Richie blinked at Mike for a long time– way too long, if Mike was being honest– with a look of slight disgust on his face. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s not like you a-and Eddie!”

“I open up to you– even the tiniest bit– and you’re gonna just lie to my face like this.”

Richie was teasing, of course he was, but he had a valid point. He was back on the brink of tears after having already cried, all because he missed his boyfriend– was that the word they used, Mike wondered. He’d never thought Richie as being any sort of “boyfriend”; it was too formal, too dutiful– and he was going to lie to his brother; Mike’s first best friend that had been sent away for four years after intermediate summers in Maine that never truly spoke a word about his “forced vacation” was sharing about his first love, and Mike was shutting him out. He was making Richie feel more alone than he had to.

Mike groaned and rubbed his face. “I’m not just lying to you.”

“Oh. Oh no. You didn’t tell him before he moved? Mike, are you shitting me?”

“Hey! Shut up! I’m not the one crying over handwritten letters here!” Mike said. It wasn’t entirely accusatory and Richie knew it. His eyebrows lifted and his jaw set in expectation: go on. “A binder– I keep all his drawings in a binder. In the basement. He still sends me some– ones he draws when he’s bored in class or just ones he does for fun. I save every single one. Every. Single. One.”

There wasn’t much Richie could say, Mike knew that, but he was just super appreciative he stayed silent rather than laughing. He nodded and collected a response. “I know I’m more like Ted than I am like Mom…”

“You’re not–”

“Dad was born afraid of emotions and has passed that onto me, I know this and I’m not going to lie to myself.” Richie said sternly. “But, my point is: if I think you should tell him? Maybe you really should fucking tell him. Like yesterday.”

“Why would I do that? He’s hours away now and–”

“And he’s sending you drawings, Mike.” Richie looked upset again. His hands curling around the letter. “That sounds a whole lot like ‘I won’t forget you’ to me. Kinda gross, actually… He’s in love with you.”

Hearing it first from Richie sent Mike almost into another plane of existence. Mike reached for the cigarette and felt around in the grass for the lighter. “He is not.” He coughed, no smoke even in his lungs.

“Okay.” Richie nodded, laughing. “I’m sure he’s just, carefully creating art for every boy he knows.”

Mike spoke without thinking. “I sure fucking hope not.”

Slowly, Richie pulled his hand from his pocket and held out his lighter. He clinked his tongue and sparked it. “Oh, you’re in far worse than I thought.”

“Am not!”

“Well, when you stop pining over some crayola art, you let me know, Mike n Ike.” Richie laughed. “Denial’s only fun for so long.”

It wasn’t denial, was it? Mike knew he liked Will but he was just so fucking sure that Will didn’t– and couldn’t– like him back. It wasn’t denial if it was the truth, right? Then again, when had Mike heard those words from Will? He was hurting from being so far from Will, but he had yet to be hurt from being rejected. God, Mike was sure being rejected would hurt a hell of a lot less.

Maybe he should test that theory. Finally, maybe Richie had given good advice. Just this once.

“If I tell him, it’s you who’s driving me to Chicago to see him.” Mike threatened, pointing the cigarette at him. “I can’t just do it in a letter or-or a phone call. That’ll kill him.”

“You chip in and help me rent a place in Maine for a week this summer and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Deal. Fine. Whatever you want, it’s yours.” Mike nodded, ditching the cigarette.

Richie closed the lighter and smiled at Mike, free of mischief. “Thanks, Mike… Don’t tell Mom about the smoking. Any parts of it. Please.”

“They’re hers anyway.” Mike said winking. “She really needs to quit, honestly.”

“We’re just helping!” Richie slung his arm around Mike and brought him toppling into him. “We’re the best children she could ask for–”

“– Do I smell cigarettes?”

“Fuck! Run!” Richie giggled, scrambling up his papers and getting to his feet. Mike threw the lighter and pack into the bush behind the patio and took off after his brother.

The backdoor opened just as Richie jumped the fence, Mike struggling to do the same. “You boys better get back here!” Karen shouted.

“Sorry, Mom!” Richie called back, waving. “We’re running to Chicago!”

“And then Maine!” Mike wheezed. “Be back later!”

ao3

[luminisvii]

Am I losing my shit about fanfiction again? You BET! It’s time for Tell to lose her goddamn mind about some truly awful fanfic! It’s my blog, I get to do what I want! And that’s to talk about how people are more blessed than they believe since they didn’t read this!

Today I’m going to talk about Super Smash Sisters: Damsel to Hero. Given the title uses a word like Damsel in it and it’s rated M, this is going to be GREAT

content warning for well what do you think a horny man on the internet would write ie: cheating, incest, terrible depictions of women being horny, violence (I don’t explain any of this in detail so you’re welcome. but it is mentioned) I’m not linking this thing because you guys don’t deserve this.

It took me forever to finish the entire fic, and I actually wrote most of this before finishing. You may say “Wait a second Tell, you need to fully read the work in order to discuss it!” No I do NOT. Trust me, this doesn’t need to be finished to understand. I needed moral support for this, I couldn’t have possibly read this by myself. I feel really sorry for my poor friends that have to deal with this horse shit with me because it’s kind of got a bit of je ne sai completely godawful. I’m semi tough and can stomach some senseless nonsense pretty nicely, but the real heroes here are my friends for toughing out the rampant sex and terrible female character writing all mixed with Call of Duty plot and characters. You thought this was about Smash Bros? WRONG! 

I know exactly jack about the author, Yamagata, other than they are probably some poor horny straight guy in high school or maybe a genius troll. We just don’t know. Either way they were pretty dedicated. The fic itself is 91,621 words and 45 chapters, and apparently on hiatus but we all know hiatus is just another word for dead. It’s better off that way. All good awful fics end on a cliffhanger.

The premise, as the title implies, is that all the men of Smash are kidnapped by nazis or some shit after a failed drug raid and it’s up to all the women to save them of which there are Zelda, Peach, and Samus because this was written in the Brawl era. You might think “Wait, isn’t that not a lot of female characters?” right you are! The author decides to bring in tons of female characters from all sorts of video games and anime. A personal favorite is a major character in this fic is Bright Noah from Gundam, notably not a woman. I love him! I’m disappointed he hasn’t slapped anyone yet! What’s the point of importing Bright Noah into a fanfic if he isn’t going to deliver a Bright Slap? Sorry folks, there’s gonna be me getting distracted about Gundam once in a while.

I can’t remember exactly what happens because the chapters really blur together quickly. They’re almost always first half violence in COD land and second half really bad lesbian sex scenes. See, the title is a misnomer. The women don’t actually do a lot of hero work. It’s still handled by men. Ones who aren’t even from Smash Bros. Bright Noah and another guy called Hargrove who I’m not familiar with are constantly telling the women what to do and while the women sometimes go on missions to fight Nazis or whatever, half the time we’re following some random male characters. A good friend had no idea one of them was Tuxedo Mask because they used his dub name and we spent like ten chapters with this idiot before realizing it was him. They just spend their time fighting different various enemies from real life as opposed to smash. So the guys fight and then the women all fuck because when your boyfriend is missing you have to immediately bang the nearest female out of grief. It’s not cheating if it’s gay! Even worse is there’s a lot of incest because apparently that’s how women act, too. Also for some reason when the women DO fight it plays exactly like the men’s side but with Bright Noah just telling them what to do. Also for some reason Peach just fucking kills people and I’m not really sure how to deal with that. Like, yeah, I guess.

Let’s try to do a plot recap but that’s going to be difficult because I’m not sure what the plot is. Okay, in theory, I do. But we’re just circling around and doing the same thing so many times that I’m plain lost. 

In theory, the plot is as mentioned before. The men of Smash get kidnapped and turned to trophies by Nazis. I’m noting that besides Nazis the men are all brutally murdered in order to turn them into trophies. Then it turns out that Samus, Peach, and Zelda are safe because they were at the Smash Mansion cleaning and having sex as princesses and bounty hunters are known to do. Then they find out from Bright that the men have been kidnapped so they have to form a task force against them. So there’s a long ass paragraph of characters, many of which do not have speaking lines until much later anyway, but they’re all female characters from other games or anime. I’m really into Fire Emblem and there’s a bunch of those so time to cry. Bright has to tell these women to stop being so damn emotional and be ready to start murdering. 

Also in the first chapter, we have the reveal of the villain, some Tabuu knock-off named Emerald. She too recruits a ton of villainous characters who all introduce themselves AFTER THEY’VE BEEN RATTLED OFF IN PARAGRAPH FORM. You didn’t get it the first time? They’re all going to painstakingly state their name and identity. Admittedly it’s kind of funny to have Cell in a room with Liquid Snake and Ashnard. Also who invited Valtome? They didn’t even invite Zelgius. Maybe our favorite Begnion General figured out that a certain thirsty ass senator was gonna be there and stayed in bed today. Okay, fewer tangents, I promise. 

With the establishing of all the villains and heroes, everything instantly turns to shit. Half the time we’re not even following a group who’s connected to the main characters and when we are with the main characters they are either having terrible sex or shooting nazis. This sounds like it’d be funnier than it is but it’s really Grade A Depressing. I can’t tell what’s going on or why and since I have exactly no knowledge of Call of Duty I’m afraid I don’t know anything about our actual protagonists either. Every chapter starts with some pretentious usually WWII related quote and involves some guys dying and then some ladies bonking. It’s the same format every time and after a while I feel like this is some advanced torture method. 

Among the bad sex is for some reason moms are banging their elementary school age daughters because their husbands are out. Women are so horny they’d rather fuck their children than wait long enough for their husbands. It’s so messed up. My eyes naturally glaze over on the sex scenes because they’re kind of clinically written and something about cute pussies or whatever. I feel bad for Bright Noah, he has to break up these badly written orgies to talk more about the nonexistent plot. Bright Noah needs a raise. All in all the sex is something that maybe a 13 year old boy might find hot if he hasn’t managed to read all the other way better smut fics out there. If 13 year old boys even do things like that. 

Since there’s no way for me to coherently walk through the plot since each scene hardly seems to amount to anything besides either violence or a roll in the hay, I’ll just have to start briefly talking about the few notable things that happen, probably out of order. Who the fuck even knows what chapters these happened in? I sure don’t! 

First off, a lot of the women conscripted into the task force have supernatural powers but they’re just given guns. I also think the author has something for Krystal or whatever since we focus on her a lot for no good reason. The women are also often infiltrating secret bases to nazis or other bad guys that I’m not as well versed in because admittedly I’m not that interested in the history of warfare, modern or old. I just assume this is a COD thing. But in order to infiltrate the bases, they just wave papers at literally every guy they come across and that does it somehow. I started going ballistic and every time they mentioned papers I would start screeching again. They get stopped by some dude and he’s always like “Where are your papers?” and they ALWAYS have the papers and then they go past but the author FEELS THE NEED TO KEEP BRINGING IT UP. It’s like The Black Fucking Mountains again. Something I’ve learned about myself is that I do poorly with overly repetitive writing, so I wonder why I’m reading world’s most repetitive piece ever penned for fun. I can’t recall anything that happens in any chapters.

Somewhere in the mix they actually save Ike, Marth, and Roy. Somehow the most in character thing in the entire fic happens with them when it’s offhandedly mentioned that they sometimes dogpile into the same bed as a joke. What was more shocking to me is that suddenly Ike is a total nuclear bomb genius out of nowhere. Sure, he’s from a medieval fantasy setting, he knows what nukes are. We finally get some more plot. Apparently Emerald is trying to develop some insanely powerful nuke in order to destroy the trophies of the remaining captured heroes. See, she’s holding them ransom so she can get… money? Power? Fame?

Trying to do this from memory is so hard. I did My Inner Life practically all from memory, only going in there for the copy and pasted quotes! What the heck? This fic just slides off my brain. I don’t know if finishing it is even worth it since it’s not like I’m reading any of the sex scenes in detail (I mean why would I, a woman with decent taste, want to read about usagi feeling up chibi usa) and I sure as hell can’t understand the Call of Duty parts so in conclusion this fic really wasn’t targeted at me. 

But whatever. So now the main crew has to slaughter their way to bomb storage or development or something. Some of the COD guys died and I didn’t notice, some of the villains died (tragically Valtome was K.I.A.) and all in all too much sex was happening. Seriously, Mist has sex on her brother’s bed, that’s kind of nasty. I don’t know why I’m so hung up on all of that. It’s like the piss drinking thing, it’s a minor offense in a long line of “HOLY FUCKING SHIT” but here’s where I get derailed. 

How many times can I say that this fic is terrible? Because it is. I don’t understand who a lot of these characters are and why they’re here or what they’re doing. I managed to read to the end and all that I learned was Shadow the Hedgehog apparently cheated on Rouge with some guy called Makarov who is another major villain. What, so when Rouge cheats on him with another woman it’s fine, but when he cheats on her with a man he gets killed for it? I smell double standard! Don’t worry, I’m a feminist, I support equal rights of everyone getting punished for their perpetual horniness. Still, there’s this shocking turn of events where the men are somehow the ones who aren’t constantly obsessed with sex and the women are going around topless and banging each other constantly while homosexuality in men is seen as evil and wrong. For some reason I think the person who wrote this might be a man. He feels the need to remind us, 40 chapters in, that there will be No Yaoi scenes but plenty of Yuri. No shit dude, like, fuck! I didn’t know! 

Towards the end, Washington DC gets overrun by Colombians and the team has to kill them. There’s some drawn out attack sequence where everything is described in monotonous detail with military terms I don’t understand. I have a general revulsion to military weeaboos as they are sometimes called, so this stuff turns my stomach. It also features Kenichi, the main character of the animated Metropolis adaptation, which I DID see a long time ago! This little boy is killing people! It’s fine! Also it mentions Frau Bow from Gundam and discusses that she’s training to fight in a mobile suit to help support, but Peach and Samus are the ones who actually use the mobile suits. Peach kills people in the RX-78-2. I’m not sure how to feel about that. Another aside is King Boo is in the mix and he dies. How do ghosts die? Asking for a friend. 

There’s also some weird aside of the COD guys doing an arrest in Disneyland. Gaz, Soap, and Price all go there guns akimbo and chase down some dudes and some people die. I don’t think Disney would like that. This also comes out of nowhere, Gaz was playing fucking Go with this dude called Katsuie and it was practically a smash cut transition of “well I arrested a guy in Disneyland once wanna HEAR about it?” and it was. Something. I don’t understand why we did this.

We end with Krystal and Fox discussing that she’s breaking up with him because while he was held hostage, she got engaged to a woman and is unceremoniously dumping him. The scene was honestly kind of funny for the fact that she was having a lesbian three way in his fucking bathroom and then was like “Yeah we’re not dating anymore. I’m engaged. Later idiot!” while naked. Shortly after it’s decided that they need to bomb some German base, I think. So Bright Noah tells the crew to suit up and get ready, and so Krystal and her Lesbians fly off to go fight. Krystal ends up in a one on one with a dude called Scales who I’m unfamiliar with since I don’t know Star Fox lore but I’m sure it’s super important to Krystal. The duel ends so badly that Fox needs to jump in and he and Scales end up plummeting to their death out a window and also getting blown up by grenades. Fox just fucking died for the girlfriend that cheated on him the second he wasn’t home. Honey, you deserve more than this, and Krystal deserves to be treated better by the narrative as well. He gives his blessing as he’s dying, though, so it’s fine. 

The whole thing ends shortly after that. It was never completed, not that I think it could be, since I read all 91k words and I still don’t understand who is who, what’s going on, or why things are happening. Even if I did know all the characters featured I don’t think it’d help. I know about 50% of them and it’s not helpful at all. I completely forgot that Emerald is a thing. She’s the main villain! She’s hardly in it! The guy should have cut the shit and just written 

Tell’s recommendation? Don’t read this unless you’re really, truly a masochist. It’s not funny enough most of the time to justify the insanity. It’s sexist and racist. Chapters monotonously drone on with the same things happening almost every time. The bad sex isn’t even funny. Save yourself the trouble and if you really must know, check out the first few chapters only and then call it. The author has other works that I haven’t read but I’m not sure that I will based on the quality of this work, and they also published something as recently as 2017 meaning they could probably rise from the hiatus grave and kick my ass for trash talking them. 

One Sentence Review: Bright Noah doesn’t slap anyone. 

[argylemikewheeler]

sup my bro my buddy my amigo. idea: nancy being a overprotective sister of richie and mike and them just being total sibling goals

“Would you two shut up for just five goddamn minutes! I’m trying to drive!” Nancy cried, slamming her hands on the steering wheel. “I can’t focus when you two are screaming.”

“Maybe you’re just a bad driver.” Richie heckled, leaning up towards the driver’s seat. “Didn’t Steve always drive you to school?”

“I am a fine driver.” Nancy seethed. She turned on the radio to try and drown out her brother. “Sit down in your seat, Richie. I can’t do anything when you are kneeling–”

“I bet Steve says–”

“Shut up, Richie.” Mike groaned, grabbing his brother by the collar and yanking him into his seat. “You’re going to kill us.”

“We’d only be so lucky.” Richie said. “I hate this song.” Mike didn’t even know it, but it sounded like the main instrument was a flute or something.

“How far away are we, Nancy?” Mike asked, trying to redirect the conversation.

“We’ll get there when we get there!” Nancy cried, her voice shrill. “I don’t know where this fucking comic book store is and Mom gave me shit directions!”

Mike shrank back in his seat. “Sorry. I was just asking.”

“Well, until you can drive you aren’t allowed to ask anymore questions.” Nancy said.

Richie looked at Mike, who was still lowering his head from his sister’s rear-view mirror stare. “Fuck her.” He mouthed, hitting his brother in the arm. He rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue, showing exhaustion to her recent outbursts.

Richie had a thicker skin when it came to Nancy (and probably Nancy alone) but Mike was still unsure how to handle her when she was upset about things that weren’t him putting syrup on her eggs or stealing her quarters. They were bigger life things that Mike wasn’t in control of, but he was yelled at and felt responsible for. College sounded like a terrible thing.

“I’m pulling over. We need gas and I need Richie to annoy the cashier for at least five minutes.” Nancy said, turning the car into a barely-busy gas station.

“Buy me a Snickers bar and I can make it ten.” He said, grabbed the back of Nancy’s seat to put his head beside hers. She held up a dollar bill as she put the car in park beside a pump. “Solid! Let’s go Mike and Ike!”

“I wish you would stop calling me that.” Mike sighed, opening the car door and sliding off the seat. “We’ll be right back, Nancy.”

“Okay.” She said, pushing on her temples. Mike felt the urge to say something pathetically gushy to her, but he slammed the door and followed Richie instead.

“Hello my good, sir.” Richie said loudly, barely checking to see if the man standing at the register that Sunday morning was even a man.

“Nope.” The man said, taking one look at both Richie and Mike. “Get out.”

“What?”

“Excuse me.” Richie said, unfazed. “I have money to exchange for goods and or services.” He held up the dollar. “And I request a Snickers.”

“I don’t sell to people like you.”

“Like us?” Mike echoed. “Twins?” People were thrown off often, but they had never encountered a problem before. The Shining had done very little for their cause.

“I have the right to reserve service to anyone. And I don’t serve fairies.” the man said gruffly, folding his arms. “Don’t make me ask you again.”

“Fairies?” Richie echoed, touching his face. “My ears aren’t that long are they, Mikey?”

“Richie.” Mike hissed. “Don’t start with him. We don’t even know where we are; maybe people are just really… anti- hawaiian patterns.”

“Hey, I bought these Jams with my own money. I like them!” Richie ran his hands over his brightly colored shorts. “Just because they have colors on them doesn’t mean I’m gay.” Richie argued. “It’s my boyfriend who does that–”

“Richie!” Mike grabbed his arm and tried to pull him back out the door. Richie was lying, but he was saying all the right things to push the owner’s buttons. He was fuming, hand fumbling under the desk and pulling a phone to his ear.

“Don’t make me call the cops.” The man said. He could have been doing a lot worse, but Mike wasn’t about to test his luck. “Get out of my store.”

“Come on, guys! What are you doing, making the candy yourself?” Nancy said, pushing the door in and forcing the bell to clang against the glass harshly. It was the only noise as the man’s fingers hovered over the phone’s dial. Richie was practically being gagged by his brother and Mike could feel the sweat forming by his temples. “What’s going on here?”

“Are you with them?” The man asked.

“Yes. I am.” Nancy said. “What the hell did you two do?” She yanked Mike’s hand away from Richie’s mouth.

“We look gay.” Mike said, his brother still sputtering through the past two minutes of commentary. “He won’t let us buy candy.”

Nancy blinked at Mike, the tension on her face dissolving. Her eyes softened and her hands reached for both of theirs. “What candy do you want?”

“I just wanted something with fucking caramel.” Richie said, fixing his waistband and huffing at the pattern he was growing to feel insecure about. Mike could see the doubt cross his brother’s face quickly, Richie rushing to shove his glasses farther up on his face and disguise his furrowed eyebrows.

“I wanted gum.” Mike admitted.

“I would like a pack of Wrigley’s.” Nancy took the dollar from Richie and placed it on the counter. Her hand smacked against the metal surface. “And something with fucking caramel in it.”

“I am refusing service.”

“Give me the fucking candy.” Nancy grumbled. “I just paid three dollars for two gallons of gas. The least you could do is give me and my brothers some goddamn candy.”

“Don’t start threatening him, Nancy Drew. It’s okay. We can go.” Richie said, trying to explain the deadlock grimaces off Nancy and the owner’s face.

“No. We aren’t leaving until you get your candy.” She leaned her elbow on the counter, resting her chin on her hand. “I have all day.”

“I don’t serve people like them.”

“Children?” Nancy laughed, shaking her head. “Boys? Twins? Nerds?”

“Hey!”

“What about them makes them unservable?” Nancy motioned towards her brothers, Richie in his bright pants and coke bottle glasses and Mike in his old summer camp shirt and ruddy sneakers. “You can’t possibly be that ignorant.” She sighed. “Give us the damn candy so we can leave.” He opened his mouth again, although with less urgency and confidence. “Are you going to deny service to me?” She leaned back on the counter with both elbows.

The dollar was replaced with both pieces of candy.

“Fuck.” Richie muttered.

“And a pack of Lucky Strikes,” Nancy added, pointing over his shoulder. “for good looks.” She winked. The pack was handed to her with the same hand that previously held the telephone. He lost.

“Check fucking mate.” Richie laughed, grabbing the Snickers off the counter and running out the door with Nancy and Mike behind.

They all climbed back in the car, Nancy laughing as Richie bestowed half his Snickers bar to her. She denied it and pushed it towards Richie, telling him to enjoy it. He did it without being told twice.

In his chewing, Mike was able to take advantage of the silence. “Why did you take cigarettes?” He said. “You don’t smoke.”

“Yeah, I know.” Nancy was a moment away from giggling, her face flushed red. “I just always wanted to do that.”

“Who knew you were a badass?” Richie said, teeth nearly stuck together by caramel.

“Demanding to be treated equal is not being badass.” Nancy said, finally turning the car over and beginning to pull away from the station. “I’m just looking out for you guys.” Mike saw her face tense up although her words were gentle and quiet.

Oh shit. It wasn’t college, was it? Mike reached forward and touched Nancy’s shoulder, trying to catch her eyes in the rear view mirror at the red light. “We’re going to miss you, Nance.”

“I’m going to miss you guys too.” She sighed. She reached across herself to hold Mike’s hand. “I don’t want to leave, but–”

“We understand.” Richie said, surprisingly aware of the gravity of the conversation. “We want you to be happy though.”

“Thanks, Richie.” Nancy’s lips pressed together as her smile restrained from crumpling from her quivering bottom lip.

“Yeah, you’ve got to go to college and be fucking smarter than Ted.”

“That’s not hard, Richie.” Mike countered. “Dad’s kind of an idiot.”

“Well, we need you to be super smart so you can make a lot of money and we can live with you instead of Mom and Dad.” Richie said, patting Nancy’s shoulder with a wink.

“Promise?” She laughed, her eyes watering. “Move in with me?”

“Promise.”

“You’ll always be my little brothers?”

“I mean, physically we have no choice. Sure.”

“And I’m your favorite sister?”

“Holly doesn’t get us cheap candy, so, yeah.” Richie said, wrapping his arms around Nancy’s shoulders. “You’re the best there is.”

Ao3