#might actually pick some of these back up they’re way better than I remember

[davidfaulkner]

Fun thing about going through your notes app is you can find two year old fanfiction you wrote and read it like it’s someone else’s bc you don’t remember it. Some of this stuff is pretty good you guys should check it out

[shanastoryteller]

Meg is the first choice, of course, but she’s not suited to this type of long term mission and they all know it. The problem is, almost none of them are. The nature of the beast, she supposes.

That’s why it ends up being her, in the end. Well, it’s almost Ruby, but there’s one thing she has that Ruby doesn’t.

How she ended up here in the first place.

She thought Clyde loved her. She thought he’d take her away, from her father and her terrible life, and so when he died too young, before he could fulfill any of his promises, she’d sold her soul to bring him back.

But he hadn’t kept a single promise. She’d died in her father’s house.

“You remember being in love, don’t you?” he asks, cruel in his callousness, which is different than his other types of cruelty. It’s all he has, shining out in a thousand different ways. “You’ll be better at faking it.”

All she does is fake it.

“Yes,” she says.

This mission gets her topside. It’s worth it for that alone.

~

She slips into a pretty blonde named Rebecca first but by the end of the day, the girl’s screaming has given her a headache, and she slips right back out. She’ll probably just think she had a bad trip.

He’d offered to arrange something for her, but she wanted to pick herself, and she’s not interested in having someone crying and moaning in the back of her mind. But it’s not like there are a lot of options.

She could kill one, of course. But she’s never – she hasn’t been topside, before. Everything she’s killed before had already been dead. So she hovers for the next week, looking for some sort of opportunity, for something she can use that’s not going to scream at her.

The day before she’s going to have to either pick someone or risk being sent back, there’s a car accident.

The girl’s heart is still and her body’s warm, blood pooling down her head, but that’s nothing she can’t fix. She settles into the body, jumpstarting the heart and can feel the skin on her head knitting back together. It’s also blessedly, thankfully silent, with her the only one inside this body. The driver who hit her is dead and people are crowding in, a crying girl pulling her free. “Anne! Anne, are you okay, oh my god, I can’t believe that happened-”

She wrinkles her nose before smoothing out her expression.

The name will have to go. She’ll say she’s reinventing herself after tragedy, or something, but she’s not going to walk around responding to Anne. That’s not her name.

Anne’s a sophomore, which isn’t ideal, but she’s beautiful and doesn’t have that many friends and barely talks to her family, so she’s actually perfect.

She’s also blonde.

She’d been blonde before too.

~

All the demons who had run these sort of missions before give her advice, tell her things that will help her. Some of their assignments had lasted months, but no one’s tried to do it for as long as she’s supposed to.

He likes smart girls.

Be confident. Be flirty. He’s shyer than he looks.

He never had a mother. He likes it when girls take care of him.

He likes to take care of girls too. He wants to feel useful.

She’d had dreams, before, of all the ways she’d could escape her father. It wasn’t common for girls to get more than a basic education, but she’d been smart. She could read and do complicated sums and enjoyed the quiet evenings when she balanced her father’s books. She’d thought she might like an advanced education, thought it could get her out of her life, but hadn’t known how to manage it.

Clyde had seemed easier. More attainable. More realistic.

She’d sold her soul for nothing in the end. She hadn’t even got the full ten years of her bargain.

She doesn’t know how much of their advice she can take.

She can be smart, but considering the school they’re at, all the girls will be smart. She hadn’t been confident or flirty, which is maybe why she’d latched onto the first boy who smiled at her. She never had a mother herself and doesn’t know to act like one.

She’s never been taken care of and doesn’t know how to do that either.

There’s no way for her to do this. She’s going to be replaced and sent back below and he’ll be angry at her and she hates hates hates when he’s angry at her, what he does to her.

“Are you okay?”

She looks up, something cold on her tongue, but falters.

He’s standing there, warm hazel eyes and long dark hair, hunching to try and make himself smaller, and a smile on his face that does nothing to hide his concern.

“Do you ever feel like,” she starts, her dead stolen heart beating too quickly, “everything is falling apart around you and you have no idea what you’re doing and like maybe your whole life is one huge mistake?”

Well, fuck. She’s definitely being replaced now.

Except Azazel’s favorite throws back his head and laughs, smile stretching into a grin. “Every day of my life, more or less.”

“How do you deal with it?” she asks, scrubbing a hand over her face.

He shrugs. “Well, my brother would say women and liquor.” He seems to realize how that sounds a moment later and he pales, “Um, not that I’m – I’m not saying, I wasn’t trying to. He’s just sort of a cad, and – I wasn’t trying to, with you, uh.”

She feels herself softening in spite of herself. “So you’re not one to apply that method yourself?”

“No,” he says firmly, eyes wide. “God, I’m just – I’m sorry. I – I’m Sam.”

“Hi Sam,” she returns, with a smile she doesn’t have to fake. “I’m Jess.”

~

She’s not supposed to fall in love with him.

She’s to worm his way to his side. She’s to keep him from running back to his family, to keep him from rebuilding the bridges he’s burned. She’s to keep him distracted and focused on her until his powers activate and then she’s to guide him into using them, to be supportive and loving and to push him straight into Azazel’s arms.

Sam loves his family so much.

He talks of his brother all the time. His father less, the emotions there more tangled, but love no less fierce.

She nudges him away from it, talks to him about how it’s normal for families to grow apart, to say that they’ll understand when he graduates, that he’ll show them they type of man that he is.

By the time he graduates, his powers will start manifesting, and he’ll avoid his family without her prodding. He knows what they’ll think of him, then, and Jess tells herself that she’s helping him. That this is for Sam’s own good.

If he’s with her, then he’s safe. His father won’t kill him while he’s safe at school. He can’t kill Sam for powers that he’ll never know about.

It’s easy to dig into the anger for his father, to use his last words to Sam as a way to hold him at her side. His brother is more difficult. Jess doesn’t do much with that, in the end, tells herself that it would be too complicated, too suspicious, and as long Dean is sticking with their father it amounts to same thing anyway.

The truth is more complicated.

His father will kill Sam if he has to.

She doesn’t think that his brother will. She thinks that maybe he’d choose to protect Sam, over their father’s wishes, over everything he’d been taught, no matter the consequences.

She fears that she and Dean have a lot in common.

She invites Sam over for holidays, makes summer plans with him, holds as much of his attention as she can manage.

She studies and makes friends and laughs and spends so much time with him, but not all of it. It has to be believable after all, has to be constant, in a way that it didn’t have to be with all the other demons sent to take care of him.

Jess lives a life that had been denied to her and tries to do what she was sent to do and does the one thing she was definitely not supposed to do, which is fall in love with Sam Winchester.

~

His brother shows up in their apartment and she knows that she’s going to lose him.

Sam tries to act angry, but she knows him too well. He’s moving around his brother like a flower following the sun and she asks him not to go, tries to find the words to keep him here, but they all get caught in her throat. If she begged, if she threw a fit, if she demanded it of him, he would stay. He’d tell his brother he’s sorry but he’d stay with her and not help him and burn their relationship for good. He loves her enough to do that for her. She knows it.

She loves him enough not to make him.

He kisses her and she knows it’ll be the last time. He doesn’t.

“What did that take, five minutes?” Azazel is right there, breath on the back of her neck, and his anger fury rage pressing down on her even closer. “Over three years at his side and you lost him in five minutes. What a waste.”

“I kept him for over three years,” she says, tries to keep her voice steady, but knows she fails.

She had him for over three years.

“Not good enough,” he whispers, lips on the shell of her ear. “Guess I’ll have to send Meg in after all.”

Pain erupts hot across her stomach and her screams mix with his laughter.

~

Love always burns her in the end.

[love-quinn]

— PARTIAL CREDIT

summary — when a new member of the waitstaff starts undermining you, you worry that your job might be in jeapordy. carmen knows you better than you think.

warnings — swearing, i think that's it

pairing — carmen berzatto x fem!waitress reader, semi (?) established relationship

pronouns — she/her

word count — 2.2k

note — i know i fully dropped off the face of the earth but unfortunately i was too busy channeling waitress reader a little too hard, i actually have to leave for work in a few hours but i really wanted to get something out. this 100% isn't inspired by true events or me projecting in any way, anyway i hope you enjoy!! <3

Being the only waitress at a successful restaurant is hard. During the dinner rush, between wiping tables, grabbing drinks and running food, you’ve slowly learned to be more adaptable to the Bear’s new clientele base. That’s not without its struggles, of course. 

Fortunately, Carmy and Natalie seem to understand that it’s a major handful to simply do your job. Which is why Richie thought it appropriate to call you in two hours early to meet the new waiter.   

Liam’s nice from what you’ve gathered. He’s been working with you at the Bear for about two months at this point, most of that has involved you and Richie training him, and he’s been very receptive to your instruction. 

Sure, sometimes he mutters under his breath when a customer asks him for something, but hey, they’re annoying sometimes. And sure, sometimes you find him in the walk-in on his phone, but you’d be lying if you said you were never on your phone at work. He’s had no complaints, and the work is always done to a standard that’s expected (he is still in training, you’re not delusional). 

You’ve worked at the Bear since they were still the Beef, right after Carmen took over. He realised Richie couldn’t keep up with the stuff at the front by himself, so he’d gone with the cheapest option available and thanked god every day that you weren’t awful at your job. You had just graduated from UofC and if you didn’t get a job when you had, you would have been pretty much out of options. You had no work experience outside of being a TA in college (which apparently didn’t have a lot of transferable skills, according to most of your potential bosses). You hadn’t been able to score an insane internship, you didn’t make super stellar grades, you’d been too busy being desperately poor and struggling to keep up.

You’d been really lucky that Carmen had taken a chance on you when he had, and you had been desperate to show him you were aware of that. Liam didn’t seem to have the same sentiment.

He was the same age as you, and he’d actually gone to UofC as well. He’d gotten a pre-med degree but wanted to take some time off before he went for his MD at Rosalind Franklin. 

He picked up on the work fairly easily, remembered when you showed him where the cleaning supplies were, showed him how to work the buttons on the till to ring in orders, and introduced him to all the staff. They were nice to him, nice enough. It took them a while to warm up to him, just like it took them a second to warm up to Carmen, to Sydney, to you. 

But now, several months in, they all got along enough that work was going well. You didn’t have to work six days a week if you didn’t want to now that Liam was there to lighten the load (you did, you made sure Natalie knew that). Now, you could actually take your lunch break without worrying they were being completely overrun. 

On the whole, things seemed to really improve. 

Until, of course, they didn’t. 

You started hearing whispers, soft remarks of “Oh, I did that for her,” to Richie about greeting table seventeen. Small “I wonder why that wasn’t done, I’ll just do it quickly.” 

“Not to be that person, but I noticed that a lot of the straws haven’t been stocked up. I feel like I have to do it every time. I just wonder what she’s doing when she’s back here…”

You do your best to not let it get to you. He’s never worked in the service industry before, he’s probably just doing his best to make sure that his efforts are being noticed. You were almost lucky, in that way, that you were the only real waitress they’d hired. 

It’s an unusually warm day as you slide in through the back entrance to work. You’re your usual twenty minutes early, lucky that there’s enough work to do that Carmen often encourages punctuality (and thus, fairly compensates for it). 

Liam is scheduled today, but he’s leaving after the lunch shift. You get your break while the kitchen does prep-work for dinner, and then you’re coming back for dinner as well. 

Marcus is in his corner, kneading bread dough with a concentrated look on his face. You brush past him with an airy hello that he returns with a half-hearted wave, not looking up from his task. 

Tina is on vegetables, and she stops you for a moment to ask about a shipment arriving. You assure her that you’ll check when you get to the other side of the kitchen, making your way to the front.

The chairs are already all down, table cloths clean and freshly washed. Sydney went down to the laundromat to get them all clean that morning; she’d texted you and asked if you wanted to come but you told her that you really, really didn’t. 

Your first job is a pre-opening sweep, then a restock, then a menu review. You have 87 minutes until service, and Liam should be here in the next fifteen minutes or so. You have just enough time to go and bug Richie into showing you more pictures of Eva’s last birthday party. 

You stick your head into the office just in time to catch the tail end of a sentence that you definitely weren’t meant to hear; “...doesn’t even stack the chairs? What is she doing here?”

Your work anxieties - the idea that every time something goes wrong it was your fault, that one missed drink or late appetiser would have you fired, that every time a customer berated you it was actually your fault - had definitely eased some in the six months you’d been working there. You’d stopped thinking that every time someone was complaining it was about you, but that meant that when they really were talking about you, you knew. 

Liam’s standing there, leaning up against a pile of papers that Carmen is staring roughly at. He looks tired - when doesn’t he? - and like he doesn’t really want to hear whatever it was that Liam was saying. 

“A lot more than you do,” Carmen grumbles. He runs a hand over his face from the bottom up, coming to a rest when it’s gripping onto his curls. 

“I’m always covering her sections,” Liam groans. “The amount of time that Rich’s given me her table’s drinks, it’s insane. We should start pooling our tips.”

Carmen wants to say a lot back to that. That his name is Richie, and calling him Rich doesn’t make him any more like the finance frat bros that Liam is so desperate to associate with. That tip pooling would be insanely unfair to you considering Carmy’s pretty sure Liam’s made less than what you make in a day. That he stacks the chairs because he likes to, and you know that. 

Instead, he settles on “you’re always covering her sections because she’s always covering up for you when you screw up.”

Liam looks like he’s unsure whether or not to go ghostly pale or beet red at the statement. “Wh- has my performance not been up to scratch, sir?”

Carmen stands. “I didn’t really notice it, at first, cause everything was going so well. She’d never tell on you, she knows what it’s like to struggle at a job.” He looks disdainfully down at Liam’s too-new dress shoes. Professional but impractical as a waiter. From what Carmen’s noticed, this is the second pair he’s ruined. “She’d never tell me that your silverware is never rolled, so she’s been staying late and rolling every single one of them. She’d never tell me that your tables are never cleared away. She’d never tell me that you had six meals comped in your first month because you couldn’t be fucked writing shit down.

So yeah, maybe you get her tables a refill when she’s too busy telling one of us one of your guests was coeliac because you forgot to, but that does not give you the right to look down your entitled fucking nose at her.” Carmen gets close, not close enough to the point where it could be uncomfortable, but much closer than he’d ever get to Liam if he could help it. 

“You don’t like picking up her slack? That’s fine, that’s fucking fine, because to be honest, it seems like you’re creating more work for her anyway. You’re done.”

He looks pointedly towards the door to the small office. 

Liam knows exactly what Carmy’s telling him. “Sir, I-”

Carmen raises a finger and points. “You’re fucking done.”

Liam scampers away so quickly he doesn’t even see you eavesdropping. 

Carmy knows, though. He seems to have a sixth sense for when you walk into a room. If you’re not planning on coming in to confront him about firing Liam then he has no intention of bringing it up with you. He sits down, putting his forehead on his fist. “Sir.”

You’re standing right in the door, it’s practically impossible for Carmen not to notice you. But he pretends, allowing you the chance to slip away and act like you hadn’t just witnessed him firing Liam for being slightly mean to you. 

He opens his eyes to see you standing there still. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” your voice is soft. The collar of your shirt is tucked underneath on one side, and Carmen has to resist the urge to reach up and smooth it out. He’s not quite sure why and he doesn’t feel like unpacking it. “He’s still learning, I don’t mind helping him out.”

Carmen doesn’t mince his words. “He’s a dick, don’t defend him.”

He swivels away from his desk and gestures for you to sit. After a second of hesitation, you perch yourself on top of the small surface. You’re not sure who moves first, Carmen to reach up and take your hands or you to reach down to let him. Neither of you have ever spoken about it, like a lot of things. How he always makes sure you get extra food and you make sure Carmen isn’t bothered while he sets up the dining room. 

You hadn’t realised how much Liam had been heightening your anxiety while he was there. “He’s not allowed to do that to you.” Carmy sounds genuinely pissed. “You do fucking everything out there, he’s not allowed to come in and treat you like some sanctimonious fuck. You… you should’ve come to talk to me about it.” He gives in. “You could’ve.”

“I didn’t want to be a problem.” You admit quietly. “You have enough without me.”

Plenty goes unsaid between you and Carmen. You don’t talk when he drives you home in the dark, in the snow. But he’d be naive to believe that the same rules applied to everyone else. The kitchen staff talks, none more than Richie. Carmy is surprised he hadn’t decked that pre-med asshole already. 

“You’re not a problem, honey,” he says gruffly. You stay silent for a moment before realising that’s probably all you’re going to get out of him. 

“I need to go prep dining for service,” you say after a moment, not wanting to speak too loudly. 

Camry’s grip on your hand tightens and for a brief second he feels panic set in. You clearly are feeling okay, so it’s not that he needs to check on you. You’re well ahead of schedule. There’s no reason for Carmen to keep his hand enclosed around yours. And yet he does. And yet you let him.

“Liam was just in here bragging about how dining room prep was already done,” he says after a short while. “You’re well ahead of time.”

“He is,” you point out airily. “I’d never want to take credit for his work.”

Carmen squeezes your hands once, eyes crinkling at the sides. You both know you need to go over everything Liam did in an attempt to make himself look better, not one hundred percent trusting him to have done it properly. There’s 56 minutes until service before Carmen finally lets you go (and only because he has prep he needs to get done).

Plenty goes unsaid between you and Carmen. You don’t say anything when he cracks his office door open for you when you need a breather. You don’t say anything when his station’s been cleaned for him miraculously while you’re waiting for him to finish paperwork.

Luckily for you, the rest of your coworkers seem to understand this time. Nobody mentions Liam or his absence. No one mentions the stars drawn on the band-aid on Carmen’s wrist. And, most surprisingly pleasant, no one mentions how Carmen has started calling you honey more than perhaps your real name.

It makes it even nicer when everyone heads out, leaving you and Carmen alone in the restaurant for the night. They seem to have miraculously developed tact over the last 24 hours, but you’re pretty sure nothing could have stopped Richie from telling everyone about the way that Carmen holds your hand the entire way to your apartment. 

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 1

Covered in scars and left totally numb by your abusive previous owner, you’re considered an “unsellable doll”. That is, until the Doll House takes you in and Sukuna becomes your trainer.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Sukuna’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m not keeping the same tag list as before, since this part deals with darker themes. I will resume the tag list after Sukuna’s part is finished! So if you want to be tagged in this one, please specify!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. BDSM. Erotic Torture. Needles. Reader is covered in scars. Everything that happens between Sukuna and Reader is consensual but there is mention of abuse by a previous owner. Divider by @benkeibear!

“That’s all you’ll give me for her?”

“I think this is a generous offer, all things considered.”

You’re sitting in a plush leather chair in the office of the owner of the Doll House while your father argues with her about pricing. It’s been going on for thirty minutes now, your father growing more agitated while the owner remains calm and firm. 

“Sir,” the owner begins, leaning forward slightly over her desk, “there are two major issues with your daughter. For one, she has a previous owner. Most of our clients consider that a deal breaker.”

“She was just with that guy a little over a year!” your father retorts, his face slightly red. 

“I’m aware of that. But that leads us to the other issue.”  The owner pauses and glances at you. “Your daughter’s scars are quite prominent. They’re very hard to ignore.”

There’s a hint of an apology in her eyes. It’s unnecessary. You know better than anyone that you’re disfigured. Scars of various types and sizes cover over half your body, including a sizable portion of your face. 

Your father is sweating. “I‘ve heard some clients have weird  tastes, that they actually want… people like her.”

The owner leans back in her chair. “It is true that we sometimes get unusual requests. But it doesn’t happen often. She would have to be given highly specialized training, to emphasize that unique aspect.”

Your father’s face lights up. “Then do that!”

The owner looks from him to you, then says, “I need to speak to her privately before finalizing the purchase.”

“What? Why?” your father asks. 

“It’s a routine part of the interview, I assure you,” the owner replies smoothly. 

Your father hesitates, but then stands up from his seat. He gives you a stern look, a warning look, and then he’s out the door. 

The owner’s face seems to soften slightly. “How do you feel about this?” 

You shrug. “I don’t feel anything. I haven’t in a long time.”

The owner looks at a laptop sitting open on her desk. “Let’s go over a few things in your file first. It says here you were sold on the direct market on your eighteenth birthday. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“You were with your previous owner for sixteen months before being removed, during which time he breached the contract by doing permanent harm. Hence the scars.”

“Yes,” you answer again. 

“And I see that your father sued your previous owner, collecting quite the hefty sum for your suffering.”

You nod. 

The owner closes the laptop and looks at you again. “And I’m guessing your father already blew through that money, despite only two years passing. So he’s selling you again. How many other doll shops has he taken you to so far?”

“Three.”

“Any offers?”

“None,” you say, eyes lowering toward the floor. 

The owner sighs. “If I don’t take you, he’s going to sell you on the direct market again, isn’t he?”

“He already tried,” you tell her, “but he said the offers were too low. If no shop will take me, he’ll probably go back and take a low offer.”

The owner grimaces. “He’s a real sick fuck, your father.”

“I know.”

“Do you want me to take you on?”

You think for a moment, then say, “It doesn’t matter. I can’t feel anything anyway.”

“When you say that,” the owner says, “do you mean physically or emotionally?”

“Both. I’ve been numb for nearly three years now.”

The owner picks up a silk fan from her desk and lightly taps her chin with it as she regards you. After a few moments, she says, “Alright. I’ll take you. I’ll make a slightly higher offer to your father, one he would be foolish to refuse. And in light of your unique circumstances, I’m going to add two extra clauses to your contract. The first is that you will have the option to change trainers if the one I assign to you is too much for you.”

You nod. “And the second?”

“All dolls sold through the Doll House are allowed to come back within one week of being purchased by a client, if they provide sufficient reasoning. In your case, I’m extending that to two weeks, and you don’t have to provide a reason. I’ll take you back, no questions asked, if you feel like your owner isn’t right for you. However, I would advise you not to abuse this privilege.”

“I understand.”

“Alright then. Let’s get your father back in here and finalize the sale.”

******************

Sukuna grins when he sees the message on his phone: “I have a new doll for you to train.”

He’s at home, in his swanky, upscale apartment in the city. Though he enjoys his alone time, he very much enjoys his work at the Doll House as well. Unlike the other trainers, Sukuna doesn’t keep a near constant flow of new dolls. He understands why of course. His training produces a very specific sort of doll that only a specific sort of client wants. But he trains enough dolls to keep himself well paid, and the work is incredibly satisfying. 

The standard training time is six weeks, which is exactly the right amount of time for Sukuna to thoroughly enjoy each doll without getting too bored with them before they’re handed over to their owners. He can’t imagine why anyone would want to keep the same doll for ten whole years. He knows he’s not alone in this thought, which is why doll rental services have been growing in popularity lately. 

He packs a few things into a small duffel bag. He keeps plenty of clothes and personal items in his room at the Doll House, so he only has to pack lightly for the six week stay. He’s in a good mood as he turns off the lights and locks the door. 

When  he arrives at the Doll House, he finds a rather interesting young woman sitting in the welcome room. Interesting because half her pretty face is covered in scars, as well as what’s visible of her left arm. Just how far do they extend? He’s looking forward to finding out. 

She glances up at him, but gives no reaction. Strange. Most new dolls look terrified, or at least nervous, when they see him for the first time. It’s probably the tattoos that frighten them. Sukuna is well aware that they make him look like a Yakuza member, or some criminal from a past era. But he so enjoys the way people instinctively shrink back away from them. 

The owner meets him in the welcome room and ushers him into her office. All trainers are briefed on their new dolls, except in unusual circumstances. But the owner looks troubled today, meaning this doll has a story. But he supposes the scars made that obvious already. 

Sitting in a chair across the desk from the owner, Sukuna places one elbow on the cushioned arm and props his face up with his hand. “So? What’s the deal with little Miss gloomy out there?”

The owner is tapping keys on her laptop, then he hears his phone chime from his pocket. “I’ve sent you her file. You really need to read over it. She has a complicated history.”

“Give me the short version,” he says, making a mental note to at least skim the file later. 

“Previous owner who abused and tortured her, shitty father who’s sold her twice now, and… she can’t feel anything.”

That last part captures Sukuna’s attention. “What does that mean?”

“She’s completely numb, both physically and emotionally. I’ve read over her medical reports, and they’ve concluded that there’s no significant nerve damage. The scar tissue dulls her senses in those areas somewhat, but they don’t leave her totally numb like this. And she can’t feel anything in the unscarred areas either.”

“Meaning it’s psychological,” Sukuna says. 

The owner nods. “It’s clearly a defense mechanism. Her body and mind simply shut off all sensation in order to cope. And that’s going to be her biggest issue as a doll. There are plenty of buyers who would find the scars exotic, but a doll who doesn’t react to anything? No one wants that. And if we don’t eventually find a buyer for her, she’s going to get passed around from one scumbag to another on the direct market for the rest of her life.”

Sukuna had little interest in the doll’s sob story, but he was intrigued by the fact that she couldn’t feel anything. “So you want me to fix her? Make her feel again?”

“Yes. I figured if anyone could, it would be you. But be careful. She’s already been shattered. I don’t need you grinding up the pieces.”

Sukuna stands up and heads for the door. “Don’t worry. I’ll reforge her,” he says with a smile, “in a way that pleases me.”

***************

The man covered in strange black tattoos introduces himself as your trainer. He’s handsome, well-built, and dressed like a man far too rich to be working here. A few years ago, you might have been attracted to him. Your heart might have fluttered at the thought of him touching you. But now? Now you feel nothing as he tells you to follow him to his room. 

He opens the door and walks in first, turning on the lights as he goes. You follow behind him and look around. The room looks like someone converted a fancy hotel room into a dungeon. 

The deep red carpets and expensive looking furniture contrast with the various… devices around the room. There’s an X shaped table, harnesses and chains hanging from the ceiling, and a wall of leashes, whips, rods, and other such items along the left side of the room. 

Ah, so he’s this type. 

You’re not surprised. Actually, it makes sense. Give the girl who can’t feel pain to the trainer who tortures his dolls. 

The man, who said his name is Sukuna, is watching your face, looking for a reaction. He won’t find one. But instead of seeming disappointed, he’s grinning. 

“My specialty is probably obvious,” he says, to which you nod. Then he goes over to the wall of tools and toys, taking something small and shiny from it. When he returns, there’s a silver, claw-like item on his right index finger. Without a word of warning, he approaches you and quickly swipes the claw over your exposed right forearm. 

You look down, curious, to see a thin red line appear on your skin, small drops of blood beading along it before sliding down. You watch the blood with no expression for a moment before looking back up at Sukuna. 

His grin is wider than before. “You really didn’t feel that,” he says, not a question but a statement. He’s standing in front of you, staring at you, when he says, “Let me ask you something, and think hard about your answer. It’s going to determine how the training proceeds.”

You nod. 

“Do you prefer being this way to how you were before?”

You blink as the question settles into your mind. You’ve never really thought about it before, but do you prefer being numb? It’s helped you block out the hurt you felt upon being sold off by your father, being abused by your owner, but it also blocks out any joy. 

“I… I don’t know.”

He’s looming over you, looking down with an expression you can’t quite place. Is it desire? Pity? Disgust? Or have you lost the ability to distinguish them? 

“Do you want to feel again?” he asks, something about his deep tone telling you to answer honestly. The sheer intensity of his presence is overwhelming you. 

You can still remember when you felt things. You can remember a poor but happy childhood when your mother was still alive. Even after, when things got worse, there were still moments of happiness. Watching movies with a friend, eating cheap snacks from the convenience store down the street. A kiss from the boy you had a crush on in high school. You miss these feelings. And once you realize that, your answer is clear. 

“Yes, I want to feel again.”

“Even if what you feel is pain?” he asks. 

An emotion you haven’t felt in years bubbles to the surface, startling you so much that your voice cracks slightly as you reply, “Yes! I’d love to feel pain again. I’d love to feel anything!”

A smile spreads across his features, and his hands move to your shirt. “I’ll make you feel again,” he says as he pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it aside. “But it will only work if you want it.”

“I… I want it,” you say, realizing with some measure of shock that you’re already feeling emotions you thought long dead. 

He removes the rest of your clothes, leaving them strewn about the floor. Then he stands back to look at you. Completely bare before him, you don’t feel embarrassed. Shame is yet another emotion you can’t seem to feel anymore. But there is a strange prickling sensation on your skin as his eyes rake over you, taking in the scars that form a map of your suffering. 

“It’s like a work of art,” he says, his gaze lingering on the left side of your torso. The words make you feel something else, but you’re not sure what that is. Your own emotions have become unfamiliar to you. 

He leads you over to the X shaped table and lifts you onto it, then spreads you out on it like a meal. He slowly attaches the leather cuffs on each end to your ankles and wrists, still watching your face for any sign of fear. 

There is none. You’re starting to feel things for the first time in three years, but fear isn’t one of them. If he can bring back the girl you once were, one who could laugh and smile and feel, then you’ll accept anything he wants to do to you. 

Once you’re secured to the table, he stands back and unbuttons his shirt. When he slips it off his shoulders, you get a full view of the intricate tattoos on his body. They’re beautiful, the way they move and twist with his body’s motion. 

He steps back to the table and runs one large hand over your arm, trailing it down toward your chest, where he squeezes your scarred breast. You can’t feel it, so you don’t know if he’s squeezing hard or not, but when his fingers lightly slide over your nipple, a tingling sensation blossoms there. What was that? 

Did he notice that you felt something? You don’t think you visibly reacted in any way, but he’s smiling as if he knows. His fingers suddenly pinch your nipple, and you feel pressure, but little else. He maintains eye contact as he leans down and runs his tongue over that same nipple, then wraps his lips around it. You feel it again, that pleasant tingling. It reminds you of something, but you can’t remember what. 

His hand moves to your other breast, where his fingers grope and pinch. You feel this a little more, and your breathing quickens slightly. That’s when he stops abruptly and goes over to the wall again. This time he returns with a rolled up velvet pouch, which he unrolls to reveal a group of very long, very thin, shiny silver needles. 

He pulls one out and holds it up for you to see. “Let’s see how numb you really are,” he says. Then he grips your scarred nipple between his finger and thumb with one hand while using the other to bring the needle closer. He looks up at your face, perhaps still searching for a trace of fear. Finding none, he pushes the needle in, sliding it sideways through your flesh. 

Your breath hitches as a new sensation hits you. This… this is pain! You haven’t felt it in so long, you’d almost forgotten it. When he grips the other nipple, the one with no scar tissue to dull your senses, you almost flinch. He grins up at you, as if he’s reading your mind. He leans down and licks the nipple slowly, awakening it to sensation, before plunging the needle in. 

This time you gasp, your arms reflexively tugging on the restraints. You felt that! Not as keenly as a normal woman would, but far more than you’ve felt anything else in years. It hurt. It still hurts as his hand squeezes your breast, his tongue running over the needle imbedded in your skin. But you welcome the pain. It’s far more preferable to no feeling whatsoever. 

Then he steps back again, and walks around the table to the bottom, where he moves in between your widely spread legs. His hand moves to your pussy, kneading it gently for a moment before his fingers slip inside your folds, finding you clit. 

You draw in a sharp breath as he strokes it, feeling the pleasure so strongly that it’s almost as if you were never numb. Your previous owner had ignored your clit, having no interest in giving you pleasure, so these sensations were entirely new to you. 

When Sukuna uses his fingers to spread you open and leans forward to lick your quivering clit, your body nearly jerks off the table. He rises up and looks at you. “Not so numb down here, are you?”

You can only gasp out shallow breaths.  

His thumb begins stroking you again as he speaks. “I don’t care who your previous owner was.” He reaches over and pulls one more needle from the pouch, his tongue running over you again, making your nerves come alive. “I don’t care if you’ve had a thousand different owners before me.” His thumb and finger pinch your clit, holding it in position. Your heart races as you wait, now holding your breath. “Because now,” he says, gliding his tongue across the glimmering needle in his hand, “you belong to me.”

He pushes the needle into your clit from the bottom and out the top, so slowly that you feel every single bit of it. Your body bucks from the table, your arms and legs jerk against the cuffs, and a loud scream erupts from your mouth as you feel excruciating pain for the first time in three years. 

It’s wonderful. 

Tears spring to your eyes, and you cum on the spot, weeping and shuddering. You were certain you would never experience an orgasm again for the rest of your life, but here you were, riding out the insane pleasure while Sukuna’s tongue prodded your clit, licking over the needle stuck there. 

**************

Sukuna watches his doll as she sleeps peacefully in his bed. She passed out not long after the “training session” was over, just as he was unfastening the cuffs on her wrists. He carried her to his bed and laid her there, and now he’s looking over her scarred form once more before covering her. 

He’s surprised by the progress they’d already made, but he can’t get too comfortable. 

Because he noticed it. When he pulled the needles out of her, which should have hurt, she didn’t even flinch. He’d squeezed one nipple afterwards, before beginning to uncuff her, just to test it. This should have made her scream, given how sore she should be, but she had no reaction at all. 

Meaning she’s numb again. The awakening of her senses was only temporary, and wore off after she came down from the high of her orgasm. 

Sukuna smiles. He certainly enjoys a challenge, and it’s clear to him that his job is far from over. 

Tag List:

@akaotv 

[sugar-coat-it]

Know It's For The Better

CW: Girlie is drunk!!

Fem! Reader

Contains: George’s younger sister! Reader, Matty taking care of drunk girlie, mutually secret pining, SICKLY amount of yearning, they’re so in love but so stupid :(, reader is turned down because she’s drunk, sad sad sad 

WC: ~4,300

—----------------------------

You get too drunk and Matty comes to take care of you. The lines of a longtime friendship are blurred. 

—----------------------------

“C’mon…” Matty mutters, keeping you supported with an arm under your shoulders as he leads you out of the bar. 

“Matty? Matty, what are you doing here, you’re supposed to be… doing music…” you giggle, almost tripping over your own feet as you lean into him. 

“Yeah, I should be doing music, but right now I’m looking out for you,” he says, shaking his head as you laugh at nothing in particular, “you really got yourself into a mess tonight, hm?”

“What do you mean?”

Your brows furrow as you look up at him, pouting like you still don’t fully understand why he’s here. Matty uses one hand to open his car door, the other firmly wrapped around you. He shoots you a look, his eyebrows almost raising high enough to meet his hairline. There are a few beats of silence like he’s allowing you a moment to realize how ridiculous the question is. Your blank stare tells him all he needs to know. 

“I mean you’re plastered,” he sighs, helping you into the car seat, your lack of balance making it somewhat difficult. 

“Ohh… yeah,” you nod in agreement that you are in fact plastered, shitfaced, sloshed, and whatever he’d like to call it. 

You slump back against the seat as your eyes flutter shut, smiling to yourself as you relish in the warmth of being so totally wasted, the world spinning just slightly. Matty is silent as he rounds the car to get into the driver's seat, now reaching to strap in your seat belt. You crack your eyes open just enough to catch the clench of his jaw. 

“Andrea told me on the phone that you begged her not to call your brother to come and get you. Which is why I’m here instead,” he explains, not seeming too impressed. 

Right. Your brother, George. That was the last person you wanted to come and get you, already knowing the lecture that would come with it. You vaguely remember insisting that Andrea call Matty instead, knowing he’d take good care of you like he always has. He glances over at you to make sure you’re still upright as he starts his car, the engine rumbling to life with a purr.

 The drive is quiet as you stare out of the windshield, watching the street lights streak across the night like they’re melting. His hand moves across the center console to turn on the radio, the station already being set to his favorite, indie classics. He never did like silence, Matty fills it any way he can. 

“What were you drinking anyways, darling?” he asks, sounding more curious than patronizing.

You love that about Matty. He’s older than you and certainly protective of you, but he doesn’t always fault you for wanting to act your age, for doing something on the wilder side. Some might call it a bad influence, he prefers “learning from the best”. 

“Umm,” you squint like you’re trying to remember what was in the shots, “tequila.”

“Tequila! Wow, you really went for it, didn’t you?” he chuckles before clicking his tongue, knowing damn well that you only drink tequila when you’re trying to crash and burn. 

You frown, sensing a slightly frustrated lilt in his voice. Maybe you had actually gone too far this time. You shift your body to face him, your cheek smushed against the headrest. Your stomach lurches at the idea of him being upset with you, especially since you’d been tying yourself in knots since you were a teen to appeal to him, to be the kind of girl he would want. Suddenly, you’re 17 again and you’re staring at yourself in the mirror, picking apart every piece of yourself that you think he wouldn’t like. Over and over. Anything for him to notice you. Your face is illuminated ruby by the traffic lights, the car rolling to a stop. Matty drums his fingers against the steering wheel in time with the soft beat of the radio. 

“Are you mad?” you mumble, your chin tilting down slightly as you struggle to keep your head up. 

“Mad?” Matty echoes, his eyes snapping to you with a newfound softness, a vastness of gentle, honey brown, “No, no, I just- what got into you tonight?” 

Relief washes over you like the gentlest wave, you know even if he was mad, he couldn’t stay that way, not when you’re draped over his passenger’s seat. You’re proudly self-proclaimed to be his weak spot, it’s always been that way. A dazed smile pulls at your lips at the confirmation, and he just playfully rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the road. 

“I dunno. Was just having fun,” you shrug, toying with the strap of your seatbelt. 

Matty knows better, but he doesn’t push for more details. Not yet anyway. You can practically see his thoughts racing as he stares at the yellow lines of the street, his lips pressed into a thin line. But, he can pick your mind about why you got so drunk later, right now he’s trying to focus on the main task: getting you home and safely in bed. He’s already mentally mapping where you keep your Tylenol so he can leave some on your nightstand for you before he goes. Now comes the fun part as he parks his car in front of your apartment building, he gets to take you up the stairs. Joy. 

It’s a slow process, Matty instructing you to hold on tight and “don’t fucking let go, you’ll crack your pretty head open”. You laugh like it’s the most well-crafted joke he’s ever told but still abide by his word. Your giggles ring through the stairwell, a bright sound like a melody to Matty’s ears. One step at a time, you make your way up the stairs, successfully keeping your head in one piece with his hold keeping you steady. When did he get so strong? You almost wish there were just a few more steps so his hands could stay on you, ringed fingers firmly pressed into your skin. 

“Stay with me here, we’re gonna get you to bed, okay?” he reassures, looking over at you every couple of seconds.

“Nooo, wait, I don’t wanna go to bed. I’m not tired,” you complain, protesting with pursed, glossy lips.

“Not tired, huh? You were about seconds away from nodding off in the car,” he chuckles, giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze. 

He doesn’t bother with letting you aimlessly fish through your purse for your keys once you reach your front door, taking the bag from you to stick his hand in and retrieve them. Matty keeps you steadily at his side as he unlocks the door, slinging the strap of your purse over his shoulder. The door pushes open with a creak and he ushers you inside, the hand on your lower back sending a shiver skittering up your spine. He follows behind you, watching as you wobble your way to the couch instead of to your bedroom. He rakes a hand through his curls streaked with gray before pressing his fingers into his temples, knowing this night was going to be longer than expected. You drop down onto the cushions with your head tilted back, a lazy smile plastered on your face. 

“Darling, bed is this way, you can’t sleep on the couch,” he says gently, placing your purse down on your coffee table.

You ignore him as he approaches you, instead frowning as you reach to soothe your fingers over the red marks marred into your heels from your shoes. Without missing a beat and without a word, Matty drops to his knees in front of you, batting your hands away from your feet. He carefully undoes the straps of your heels, nimble fingers grazing your skin. You can’t help but stare at the spectacle of Matty Healy being on his knees before you, his muss of curls shadowing his tired eyes as he works. He places both heels to the side after sliding them off, giving your knee a pat before he stands up to his full height. Immediately, you grasp the sleeve of his button-down shirt, like the thought of him being any further away is unbearable. 

“Stay? Chat with me. I’d like to chat,” you suggest, your fingers curling into the crisp fabric. 

“You’re unbelievable, really,” he mutters, shaking his head, “Fine. But we’re not falling asleep here, okay?”

You nod eagerly, you’d agree to any terms he set as long it meant he’d stay. Matty sits down next to you, allowing you to curl up against him with your head resting on his shoulder, your arms loosely around him. A tentative hand snakes up your back to your arm, holding you there as he stares forward, knowing his heart might burst if he looks down at you all cozied up to him. His thumb gently strokes up and down against your skin, like he’s confining himself from touching you any more than just that. Matty asks if he can get you anything, but you decline, not needing anything other than this moment. Who were you to ask for more?

The gentle rhythm is lulling you into a bit of a daze, but you force your eyes to stay open to have the privilege of gazing upon him when he’s so close. So warm. So real. You find yourself studying his features, half-lidded eyes searching his face. 

“I think I’m jealous of you,” you admit, your voice low. 

Matty lets out a gasping sort of laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth. What on earth were you on about? 

“Jealous of me? Why?” he smiles, an amused glint in his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Matty’s expression changes, shifting into something you can’t quite read. His lips part with surprise, but his words catch in his throat. You move your head off of his shoulder to get a better view of him, reaching out slowly to cup his face as you shift your body. His hand on your arm keeps you steady, knowing you could easily topple over. You’ve never been so bold as to touch him this way in your whole life. Matty clears his throat, a crooked smile forming on his lips. 

“Guys can’t be beautiful, sweetheart,” he says. 

Oh, but they can. You’ve been quietly admiring his beauty for so long, how could he say such a thing? You’ve watched him change over time, seen him grow from a gangly, unsure, freckle-faced thing to a confident man who slicks back his unruly hair and wears button-down shirts instead of faded band tees. You thought every version of him was beautiful in his own way. 

Silently, you take one of your hands and begin to trace the features of his face, delicately drawing your fingertips along the bridge of his nose, the slope of his forehead, and the slight rosy hue of his cheeks. Every bit of him is perfection to you. He opens his mouth like he’s about to question what you’re doing, his eyebrows drawing together, but he doesn’t make a sound. He just stares back at the focused look on your face, noticing your quiet wonderment, your gentle, sparkling adoration. It’s like you’re dissecting him, and it’s making him feel so exposed to you, like you’ve stripped him of everything right to his very soul. He tells himself that you’re just drunk, you don’t mean any of it, but that doesn’t change the way his heart is intensely thrumming against his ribs faster and faster. No one had ever touched him that way before, so delicately, and he certainly hadn’t expected to like it so much. He feels like he could melt right into the cushions. He loves you. Loves you loves you loves you. 

You let out a satisfied hum as you finish, sliding your hands off of his cheeks and down onto his chest instead, absentmindedly drawing little swirls with your nails against his shirt. His body shudders just slightly at the feeling, a tingly sensation erupting under your touch. 

“You done feeling up my face and shit?” he teases, trying to play off how you’ve just flustered him to his bones. 

You just beam at him, haziness written all over your expression as you let your head drop to his shoulder again. You chat a little longer about trivial things, Matty keeping the conversations simple so you can keep up. He asks you if your favorite color is still the same as it was when you were younger. When you mutter out a “yes”, suddenly, it’s like his whole world has been painted with it. You smile to yourself that he even remembered. His fingers gently trail up and down your arm, almost like his fingertips are ghosting over your skin. A few beats of silence pass before Matty goes for the heart of the issue, the question like a bucket of water over your head. 

“Are you gonna tell me why you actually got so wasted?” he murmurs, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. 

“... Was just feeling… sorta lonely, or something. Sorry for myself, and all that,” you sigh, not entirely sure why you’re telling him something that sounds so pathetic, but your words are tumbling out faster than you can process them. 

Matty hums thoughtfully, feeling as you bury yourself further into his neck, like you’re trying to hide from him, from reality. He knows he’s dampening your fun a little, reminding you of why it all happened, but he just couldn’t leave it alone, not when he knew you were hurting. You distract yourself by drawing small, languid swirls on his chest, the beat of his heart keeping you grounded.

“What happened? I thought you were fiercely independent. A one-woman show,” he snickers, thinking back to the exasperation he was met with when he’d asked why you were still single (“I don’t need a boyfriend to be happy, Matty. I have aspirations, you know. I’m focused on more important things,” you’d preached.)

When you say nothing in response, the realization creeps up on him that teasing you isn’t the right approach at the moment. Clearly, even you weren’t above the lamentations of the heart. You didn’t need a jab at how your fierce independence was what led you to bed alone every night. He swallows thickly, as if literally swallowing his pride before he speaks again, his tone laced with what you could only label as tenderness from the normally brash man.

“What’s been on your mind?” 

“I’m gonna fucking die alone,” you groan, covering your face with your hands, having totally forgotten that you were wearing makeup. 

He stifles a laugh, both at how you’ve smudged your eyeliner and because of your intoxicated overreaction. Obviously, this wasn’t a joke to you, and he needed to get this right. He raises his hand slowly, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face. Your stomach swoops, you swear you’ve seen this in a dream before. 

“You’re a lovely girl, sweetheart. Anyone who doesn’t see that is either stupid or blind. You’ll find what you’re looking for, and you won’t die alone, silly,” he says, punctuating the word “silly” with a poke to your side. 

A lovely girl. He thought you were a lovely girl. One that wouldn’t die alone. That’s… comforting, you suppose, even if it’s in an odd way. Part of you wonders if you’ll die with your feelings for him held close to your chest. The other part isn’t sure if you could truly hide it that long, or if your devotion would spill from your clutches like water between your fingers. Would he drink it from your palms if it did? 

“Do you ever get lonely, Matty?” you ask in return, your words slightly slurred. 

Matty pauses. Seemingly, he didn’t expect this to be turned around on him. He makes an awkward “erm” sound as he evaluates the question. With countless adoring fans, many of them being gorgeous women, how could he ever feel alone? It wouldn’t make any sense. So why does the void never go away? Why does coming home after throwing himself into his work at the studio feel so totally melancholic? He’s supposed to be living his dream.

“I suppose sometimes I do. But that’s just being human, innit?” he shrugs, ignoring the pang in his chest. 

Your fingers pause their patterns, stilling on his shirt. You allow your hand to press flat over his heart, feeling it thrum under your palm. What if this was it? You’re both lonely and after all, he just said he thinks you’re lovely. Urges rattle at the back of your mind, you’re replaying every single moment that he’s looked at you a little too long, every time that his touch created sparks from a lingering brush. It had to all have been real, you weren’t crazy. Your head is swimming, you’re moving before you can even fully process it, and it feels like the room is tilting with your body. With your hands on his shoulders, you wobble as you lift one leg over his lap to straddle him. Matty’s eyes go wide, he hastily reaches out and grasps your hips, trying to keep you steady. You feel like you’re burning up from the inside, you can only think about him, his cologne, his calloused fingertips, his mouth, his tattooed skin. Hot, liquid need is consuming you, eroding any bit of rationality left. 

“We could help each other, y’know?” you suggest, your voice dripping with implication. 

Matty glances down at your lips for a moment, but he tears his eyes away just as quickly as if he’d been burned. He looks stunned, his body totally rigid against the couch as his fingers dig into your hips, his blunt nails biting at your skin through your clothes. You look like a wet dream perched on his lap like that, but the very idea of this continuing when you were in this state made Matty’s stomach churn. He shakes his head, swallowing hard as he starts to speak, his voice strained as he tries to reason with you. 

“Darling, listen to me-” 

“No one would have to know. George wouldn’t know, it could be… it could be a secret,” you interrupt, biting your lip as you speak in a hushed voice.

The reminder of your brother’s existence just added to the urgency of getting you off of his lap. Hell, he’d probably wring Matty’s neck just for not immediately taking you to your room and promptly leaving. He didn’t want you to be a secret like you were some kind of dirty indulgence for him. No, you didn’t deserve that, and it frankly broke his heart that you would let him treat you that way. 

“No. We can’t,” he asserts, his tone coming out much firmer.

Many people think “heartache” is just an expression, but they’ve never felt the actual squeeze in their chest. A sobering rush goes straight to your head as your heart clenches, shame flooding your body. You loosen your hold on his shoulders, letting your hands drop to your sides. You take a shuddering breath, stammering something that neither of you can decipher because of how scrambled your thoughts are. Part of you wants to beg, to tell him you’ll be the best he’d ever had if he let you. But you don't, you let everything come crashing down around you. 

“You’re drunk, you’re not thinking straight. I absolutely will not take advantage of that,” Matty says softly, watching your face drop. 

“But- but I… I just wanted to… wanted you…”

“I know.”

Matty gently slides you off of his lap, feeling like the biggest monster in the world. He knows he’s doing exactly what he should, but the look on your face has guilt gnawing at his insides. Silence settles over the two of you like a layer of snow, you wrap your arms around your body to shield yourself from its frigidity. He’s about to apologize, to tell you how much he’d love to quell your loneliness another time but you speak first, your voice shockingly even, like you hadn’t had a drop to drink. 

“Can you just take me to my room?” 

He’s quiet for a moment before nodding, sensing your almost palpable embarrassment and regret. Matty gets up off of the couch first, reaching his hands out to you to help you up. It feels bittersweet to take them as you stand, finding his touch both comforting and sickening. You want him near but also want him as far away as possible, it’s like the push and pull of the cruelest magnet. 

He helps you sit down on your bed, your little black dress starkly standing out against your soft white sheets. You have a faraway look on your face, and Matty has no clue what to say or do to make any of this better. He knows he can’t pick up the pieces, but he slowly reaches out to rub away some of the mascara that’s smudged under your eyes. You’re trying your hardest to bite back tears, shaking your head as he asks you if you want to change or take off your makeup. You don’t know how to describe the feeling in your stomach as anything other than disgusting. You just want to sleep and forget. 

“Oh, my dear…” he murmurs sympathetically, “I’ll let you get some rest, okay?” You find yourself a little panicked at the idea of him leaving your side, automatically grasping his arms. You coax him closer, despite the shame biting at your ankles, nipping at your skin. Quietly, he understands. He eases himself into your bed next to you, letting you curl up at his side, your head on his chest. You feel it rise and fall under your cheek with each breath. Slowly, your body becomes less rigid as you let yourself melt into him. Exhaustion is seeping in, but this time the physical kind.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” you whisper, letting out a humorless chuckle at your expense. 

“And why wouldn’t I be here?”

“Because I’m a mess. And I threw myself at you.”

Matty smiles softly, letting out an amused exhale through his nose. You’re laying there wondering how he isn’t repulsed by you, and he’s gazing down at you thinking about how beautiful you look in this light. 

“You’re just drunk and a bit lonely. Nothing to kick yourself over, sweetheart, we’ve all been there. You were only bein’ a little affectionate.”

“Affectionate? I was trying to jump your bones.”

He laughs at that, a loud, uproarious noise that’s completely unmelodic, and yet it’s your favorite sound. His chest rumbles with his barking laughter under your cheek and you find yourself smiling, just a little. You can’t help it, even when it almost hurts to breathe. As his chuckles subside, he begins stroking your hair, running his fingers through the unruly strands. Your eyelids are getting heavier, it’s as if time is moving in slow motion, dragging on to an unceremonious stop. You’d daydreamed about falling asleep in his arms, but not like this. On the brink of slipping into sleep, your heart begins to pour out in a delirious confession.

“I know you'll never see me the way I see you. But that's okay. I can quietly admire you. I just want you to be happy. Even if that's with somebody else," you mumble.

You don't know why you’re doing this. You can hardly think straight. You just love him. You’ve loved and wanted him for too long. Longer than anyone should have to bear. 

“What are you talking about?” he whispers, his smile fading. 

"You know what I mean," you continue, the stream of consciousness making you feel somewhat lighter, "you're gonna... you're gonna marry a model... and be happy... and I'll find something... and I'll be fine.”

What you’re saying doesn’t make much sense to him, but it pulls him apart regardless. He can’t help but feel sick to his stomach that you don’t see yourself in his future. Matty gives you a soft squeeze, staring at the top of your head as you barely cling to consciousness. He wants to tell you how he feels so badly, it’s killing him. Everything inside is screaming at him to confess, but he can’t, not when you might not even remember it. He decides this will have to suffice. 

“Sweetheart, I promise you, I would not be happy in that scenario. Not without you.”

“What?” you mutter, sounding dazed. 

Well, sure, you’ll be there. You’ll go visit him in his house that’s far bigger than necessary and force a smile when you greet his impossibly beautiful wife. But… the way he said it… no. You shouldn’t delude yourself any further. 

“Look, you need some rest. We can talk about this later, yeah?” Matty sighs, burying his nose in your hair as he kisses the top of your head. 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

You feel sleep’s forgiving embrace wrap her arms around you. If you’re lucky, maybe you've drunk enough so you won’t remember any of this in the morning. Blissfully unaware, you wouldn’t have to carry this weight. Whatever happens to you, you know it’s for the better. 

Before you truly drift off, you say one last thing. Barely audible, but just loud enough to drive a dagger through Matty’s heart.

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

It’s like the air has been crushed from his lungs. You’ve left him alone with his rampant thoughts, his regrets. God, how he wishes this could have gone differently. After some time, he hears your breathing slow into a quiet steady rhythm, signaling that you’re sound asleep. Then, and only then does he softly speak into the silence of the night.

“I love you too.”

——————————————————————

… sorry?

Thank you to my lovely birthday twin Mads (@toomuchracket ) for previewing the early draft of this!!! Dedicated to you, I hope it’s half as good as your angst <3 <3

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

hiiii! i was hoping for a mm!raph x fem!reader and maybe she’s a hallway crush for him and he finally talks to her and then they’re literally in love LIKE HARD CORE

Hallway Crush (Fluff)

MM!Raphael x reader

A/N: Mind reader you are. I’ve been thinking about writing this one for some time, so thank you for asking😂❤️ I’ve cut it a little short today, as I’m still getting used to a normal everyday in a kindergarten, so it became more high school crushing instead of full on in love. Hope you enjoy❤️

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

Warnings: None❤️

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

Raphael stood with his head in his locker, acting like he was looking through his stuff for something specific. Well, he was in fact looking for something, but it was nothing in his locker. No it was down the hall, standing at their own locker, picking out the books for their next class.

This was not what Raph had imagined high school to be like. He had thought it would be like those movies he and his brothers used to see back in the lair. The stereotypical jock that had it easy, never scared about what people thought of him, every guy wanted to be like him, he picked on the nerd and had a pretty girlfriend. That was how Raph had thought his high school life would be like. But that was far from the reality he was served with.

Raph had made it onto the wrestling team, so that made him a jock, right? But nothing about school was easy. Raph struggled with reading and math, and he often found himself feeling a little subconscious whenever someone looked at him for too long. His turtle exterior might have been accepted by the people of New York City, but every long stair made him feel a little unsure. Raph was very dependent on Donnie and his nerd friends helping him out with homework, and at times he feared that people would rather get to know his brothers instead of him. And he did not have a girlfriend. But he did have a crush on probably the prettiest girl in the whole school. Great, right? No!

Raph had never even talked a single word to you, but stared at you from his locker, more than happy to be late for class if he could watch you for a little longer. There had been times where Raph had tried to talk himself up, wanting to start up a conversation with you, but instead he found that his hands were getting sweaty at the mere thought of talking to you. His heart rising and his body shaking whenever you were close by in the cantine, or those few times he had found himself at the same water fountain as you. He almost forgot to breathe whenever you looked in his direction, averting his gaze, never knowing if you ever actually looked at him. And the brutal truth was that Raph wasn’t even sure if you knew his name, but he surely knew yours, often finding it repeating itself in his head.

Despite that, Raphael did exactly as he had done every single day, after he saw you for the first time. He stayed at his locker, watching you as you looked through your stuff, getting ready for your next class.

Raph was relieved that his brother’s weren’t around. They had obviously seen the way their brother has started to act whenever you were in his line of sight. Mikey and Donnie had a blast, realizing that it wasn’t Leo that had gotten a crush on a human, but Raph as well, giving the two youngest something good to tease both of their oldest brothers with.

Raph felt his shoulders slump, remembering Leo’s crush on April. He felt like slamming his head against the side of his locker. Here he was, fearing something as small as your eyes turning his way, and his duns of a big brother was talking to his own crush everyday, even if he was rambling and fumbling over his words. This could not be. There was no way that Leo was better at this than Raph was. It could not be. And with those thoughts in mind, Raph once again tried to talk himself up.

“You can do this, dude”, he whispered to himself, daring another look in your direction. “You fought Superfly. You saved New York City. If you can’t talk to a girl, who can? Even Leo can do it, and he is a duns”.

Raph shut his locker with a sigh, before doing something he had never thought he would do. He walked in your direction, determined finally to have a conversation with you. You however, didn’t seem to notice Raph until he was a few feet from you. You shut him a small friendly smile, causing his heart to flutter and his body to shake with nervousness.

“H- hey”, Raph stammered, cringing at the way his voice cracked. He expected you to huff annoyed at him before leaving, but instead your small friendly smile deepened to a genuine smile.

“Well, hi to you too”, you smiled, a giggle escaping your lips when you saw his flustered expression. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Uhm… uh… yeah! I- I know you, (Y/N), but you don’t know me - sorry, no - I- I’ve seen you around, a- and I- I thought you were r- really”. Raph stalled at the way your eyes watched him with genuine curiosity and kindness, patiently waiting got him to finish. “W- will you go out with me?”

Raph had feared you would laugh, but not like you did now. It was light hearted and calm, and not in the least bit taunting. No, it was friendly and happy, somehow calming Raph’s frayed nerves down.

“I would love to do that, Raphael”, you smiled, trying to hide a small blush on your face.

Raph stared at you, his mouth agasp and eyes wide. “Y- you know m- my name?”

“Of course I do”, you smiled with a small giggle, avoiding eye contact for a few seconds. It was when Raph realized that you were nervous too. “Everybody does. You and your brothers saved the city, and well”. Biting your lip, you reached out and tucked on the sleeve on his flannel, making his heart skip a beat. “You’re hard not to notice. I’m not just talking about the whole turtle thing”.

“Oh?”, Raph asked, somewhat shocked. “You really think so?”

“Yeah”, you nodded, smiling brightly at him.

“Okay”, Raph said with a fond smile, feeling his nervousness fade away, giving way to a sudden urge of confidence, leaning against the locker. “Then what do you say to a pizza date this Friday?”

[atimesfeeler]

Thinking about that fall/halloween fanfic I didn’t have time to write where Wade takes Logan and Laura to a fall carnival and they carve pumpkins and have a family party.

Wade drags Logan and Laura to a carnival and brings along Yukio and Ellie because Laura complained she didn’t want to be a third wheel. Logan complains about the prices and both Ellie and Logan act as guard dogs to anyone who so much as looks at Wade funny.

They get some food first because Wade is starving (he always is) and Wade makes Logan share a funnel cake with him because “that’s what couples do!” They end up fighting each other for the last piece and get powdered sugar everywhere. Wade kisses the powdered sugar on Logan’s cheek but he doesn’t help him wipe it away and doesn’t wipe his own face. He “likes the coke-look of it”. Laura gives Logan a napkin.

They try some games and they have to pick those carnival games where five people can play at once because they are all extremely competitive. Even Yukio, don’t be fooled. She’s in the lead actually. They end up breaking the water hose gun game they play and no one gets a prize. Wade plays that impossible ladder game and wins on the first try of course. The game player tries to scam Wade and say he didn’t do it right but Logan has scary dog privileges and they give Wade an overly sized bear that Wade names Logie. Logan tries to win at least one game but he sucks at it and they are all pretty much scams. He does win a prize for bobbing apples and gives it to Laura. Wade pretends to swoon while he watches Logan catch apples in a bucket of water.

“I never thought feral pig would do it for me but here we are. Hey, how do you feel about mouth gags? Specially in the bedroom? For unrelated reasons.”

Wade complains about being hungry again and wants to try the turkey legs they have at that booth with the atrociously long line. But they just ate and they want to go on some rides. Logan remembers that Wade told him his healing factor broke down food fast and has a high metabolism himself.

“I’ll get the food. You go off with the girls.”

“Really?”

“But Wade just ate a hotdog, pizza, and a funnel cake like an hour ago.”

“And the line will take forever.”

Logan shrugs. “I’m hungry. You go on the ride, and I’ll get the food. What do you want, bubba?”

And it works out bc Wade sits next to Laura on the mini roller coaster so no one is the odd one out and they both have a blast. Unlike her father, Laura likes roller coasters. She and Wade are adrenaline junkies but Logan hates them. They’re high off the ground, unstable, death machines that go around in loops? No thank you. He puts off going on a ride by bringing turkey legs and Wade inhales his food like he’s starving.

“Slow down, bub. Maybe your healing factor won’t break it down as fast if you slow down,” Logan offers.

“Oh it actually works out better if I gorge myself. If I’m stuffed it takes longer to break it down. Like thanksgiving where everyone gains several pounds after linner. That starts for lunch-dinner, by the way. Except I get to skip out on the weight gain. What the fifteen to twenty one age demographic would do to me if they found out my secret.” Wade says around a mouthful or dripping juices and meat fat. Logan cringes. He can’t believe kisses that mouth.

“You’ll throw up on the ride if stuff yourself though,” Ellie warns.

“Oh no, it will be gone by the time we get in another ride. Don’t worry! I won’t projectile vomit on anyone’s hair.”

No one responds for a moment.

“What do you mean, Wade?” Yukio asks.

“Well, usually on a roller coaster, the velocity of the wind pushes the vomit back towards the people sitting behind you-“

“No, what do you mean it will be gone by the time we get on another ride? Your healing factor works that fast?” Logan demands.

Wade quiets, like he does when he realizes he’s admitted to something that might worry his friends. Something that he forgot wasn’t normal.

“Jealous my healing factors faster than you, Wolvie?” Wade manages.

He tears the last sliver of meat from the picked clean bone of the turkey leg and his stomach grumbles.

“Did your stomach just fucking grumble?”

“Digestion?”

“Are you still hungry?”

“All the time peanut,” Wade says quietly. And then he grabs Logan’s hand. “But let’s wait in line! We just went on this ride, and I can’t wait to have to ride it with us again. You’ll hold my hand won’t you? We could get cute couple photos of us screaming!”

Logan knows when to let something go and the girls are starting to look concerned and sad for Wade. The emotionally incompetent walnut didn’t know how to handle vulnerability and getting any sympathy from the people who loved him. He would barely admit shit to Logan and still Wade sugar coated and kept who knew how many sad secrets about his life to himself.

But they go on the ride and Logan absolutely hates it, but it’s not as scary as the black bird flying over the statue of liberty so he still has his dignity mostly intact. Wade does a deep belly laugh at Logan’s yelling face on the screen that shows pictures of their ride afterward so it was worth it.

They stay on the ground, thankfully, as the sun sets and Logan stands in enough lines to last him a life time. Wade insists they don’t need to keep getting food, but Logan would periodically wander off to get something for Wade without asking. Wade held his hand alittle tighter, squeezing his hand as a silent thanks. For all the words Wade spewed, he had a hard time saying things directly like “thank you. For noticing. For caring.” So Wade squeezed his hand and smiled brightly and tried tirelessly to make Logan laugh.

Laura makes Logan go on those spinning teacup rides and Logan puts on such a brave face about it. When she’s not looking he does puke in the nearest trash can and Wade pats his back and compliments how Logan looks like a cat when he pukes.

“No, it’s a compliment! It really is! Cats can be cute doing everything, even puking up hairballs! Just like you, kitten.”

“Oh god.”

The girls go on a spinning ride that is like a rollercoaster on the ground in a single circle. It goes forwards and backwards and Laura runs up to Logan laughing deliriously with her friends because of how fun it was. Even Ellie is laughing. It’s not rare to see Laura smile or laugh but it is rare to see such raw joy and adrenaline that can only come from having fun with the people you love. So Logan blurts “yeah, I’ll go.”

“You’ll go? On that one? The doom of death ride? The loudest ride in the park because there is a constant steam of screaming adults coming from it? That ride?” Wade asks.

Logan huffs. “What, you scared?”

And Wade gets excited. He’s a complete adrenaline junkie, but he knows roller coasters and intense (or even less intense) carnival rides are not his thing. But Logan said he wanted to go! No take backsies! They sit down and the heaviest person is supposed to stay on the outside seat (surprisingly the ride holds Logan’s weight) and Wade is beaming ear to ear as the ride starts and Logan grips the single handle metal bar over his lap hard enough to dent it.

The ride starts and it’s fun. Wade giggles excitement and presses against Logan because that’s how it works when you’re seated next to someone going in a fast circle. What he is not expected is for Logan to immediately start shouting in panic. He’s yelling at Wade to scoot over and clearly convinced that he’s going to fly out of the machine and Wade knows he’s shouldn’t but he can’t stop laughing. The ride feels so much bumpier and faster than a normal roller coaster in the way that only unstable carnival rides that probably violate serval safety codes can. And he thinks his phone might have flown across the ride but he literally can’t do anything but laugh and try to fight against the gravity pushing him into Logan.

It’s a miracle Wade survived after they got off the ride. The seat they were in definitely didn’t. It’s bent like tinfoil and pretty much broken and Logan actually wasn’t lying when he said he was about to fall out. Everyone is laughing and trying to be sympathetic but even as Logan fights the nausea and the panic, he can’t help but laugh alittle with them too.

Wade makes it up to him though.

Logan drives them home and they all fall asleep from happy exhaustion, except Wade who talks through the ride with that sort of energized and happy rambling that comes from satisfying his needs for entertainment and enrichment. Wade holds Logan’s hand while he drives, playing with his fingers and claws as he talks. Logan can tell that Wade isn’t starving where his hand rests on his stomach and Logan knows he did a good job taking care of Wade.

(This turned out longer than I thought it would so I might do a Halloween part 2)

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 21

part 1, prev part

It’s like Eddie never was in the coma at all. Or injured. Or anything. He’s right back to where he was four weeks ago. Before the upside down came and ripped him from the world he knew. Traumatized him beyond relief and changed his life forever. Not just in the sense that he’ll jump whenever the lights flicker and have nightmares like the rest of them. In the sense that his body is permanently damaged because of these events.

Something Dustin sometimes forgets has happened at all. He forgets that not everyone can look at themselves in the mirror and see growth in the way that it should happen. See the way their body was always going to change. How unaffected the outside was compared to the inside.

Will’s constantly in pain from basically being burned inside out. And his immune system is fucked from how long he spent in the upside down. Steve’s head damage has only increased since the fight with Billy at the Byers’ house. And Dustin pretty sure his nose was broken somewhere along the line and didn’t set right. He’s not convinced that anyone’s supposed to snore that loud.

And then there’s all of the scars. Max’s blindness and nerve damage. Maybe Eddie’s nerve damage. It’s all so permanent.

There’s this feeling after everything gets cleaned up that everything’s going to be ok. Mainly because the government makes them all sign NDA’s stronger than prison bars to ensure they never talk about it again. And when it’s not talked about, it’s forgotten.

At least Dustin forgets.

He forgets for a brief moment in time. Peacefully goes about his life like he’s a normal kid. Like there are monsters that haunt his mind. Like physical, real monsters, and not just the metaphorical ones. Or maybe they are metaphorical, at this point. He truly doesn’t know. That’s the worst part of any of this. There’s no guarantee that this time is the last time.

It wasn’t the last time when El disappeared with the demogorgon. It wasn’t the last time when she closed the gate. It wasn’t the last time when Hopper died with the mall. And it might not be the last time now.

Dustin wants it to be the last time. Wants it to be the last time he’s glued to a hospital chair. Wants to never see his friend do better and wonder if it’s all a front. Wonder if this is all because Dustin is here, and he’s being protected from the truth. The truth that everything is darker than it seems, but they’re too afraid to show him the dark.

Dustin’s not afraid of the dark, he doesn’t need to be  kept in the light.

“This hospital food is shit,” Eddie says, fully without deep breaths in between. Gagging while eating some sort of mushy oatmeal. Ignoring the way his hand shakes while lifting the spoon to his mouth.

But still, Dustin laughs. Because he’s eating food that’s not in a tube. And talking like he did before it all. And if he could, probably would hop right out of the hospital bed to ramble and pace back and forth in his hospital room.

“I wouldn’t even call that food,” Dustin jokes. “It’s barely oatmeal.”

“Hence, why it is shit.”

Dustin would normally say something about using the word hence. How formal and proper and unnecessary it is. But he remembered the word at all, that’s better than last week. That’s better than yesterday. It’s something.

Steve knocks on the door while he enters. Smiling a little brighter when he realizes that Eddie’s awake. Functioning more than he has in the past few weeks. The color returned to his face just enough to remind them all that he’s actually alive.

“Harrington,” Eddie announces when Steve enters. “How are you doing?”

“Pretty good,” he shrugs. Crossing his arms, like he’s holding something back. “Is that real food?”

“Barely.” Eddie picks up the spoon again, it still shaking in the air. He lets the mush drop back into the bowl, it basically sliding off the spoon. “I’m still not convinced it’s actually oatmeal.”

Steve snorts, reaching over to nudge Dustin’s shoulder. “You ready to go?”

Dustin zips up his bag. “Yeah. Sorry, Eddie, I wish I could stay longer but I have a project due.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Really choosing homework over spending time with me, Henderson. You’re such a good friend.”

“Oh, shut up,” Dustin tries to retort. Ending up smiling. Feeling like the two of them never left, never changed. Like what happened never did.

Dustin’s not sure if that’s a good thing.

He stands up from his chair, slipping on his backpack and waiting for Eddie to say anything else. Remind him that he isn’t going crazy and that the memories didn’t fade. That the amnesia has actually faded. Eddie remembers Steve, remembers that he he’s different from high school. So, he remembers something.  

“See you later, man,” Steve waves to Eddie. “Glad to see you doing better.”

The door closes behind them and Eddie’s left alone. Dustin wonders if that’s when the mask slips, like Max’s. If he goes back to being miserable and in pain. Let’s the pain show and gets frustrated with how his hand shakes. Gets exhausted by lifting something less than a pound. Wonders if life will ever go back to the way things will be.

That’s all Dustin can think about. Every time he leaves the hospital, in the secrecy of night. Wonders how he could have even pretended that life was normal after everything. If anything could be normal again.

“You’re being quieter than normal,” Steve comments. The radio playing softly in the background.

“I’m just thinking, that’s all. How’s your head?” he asks, diverting the question Steve is undoubtably going to ask.

Steve huffs. “Worse than it has been in a while. I could barely get out of bed yesterday. If I miss one more shift, I swear Keith’s going to fire me.”

“Yeah, fire one of the two employees he has after everyone skipped town. That would be a great decision.” Dustin pauses. “Is the new medication helping, though? At least a little bit.”

“It’s better than it has been, so that’s something. I think it’s just because of the new injuries, it’ll mellow out with time.”

There are days where Steve’s normal, like this, and there are days where he looks drained. Where he’s popping pain pills every few hours and wearing sunglasses to try and help. And then there are the days where Dustin doesn’t see Steve at all. Only hears about it from Robin, who goes to check on him when he gets this bad. Makes sure that he’s staying hydrated and tries to get him to eat something.

“How’s Eddie?” Steve asks, filling the silence again. “He looked like himself again.”

That was part of the problem. Dustin was expecting him to be more changed, more effected. And he was, until he wasn’t. “Yeah, he does.”

Steve pulls to a stop in front of Dustin’s house. “And that’s bothering you?”

“I just don’t want him to think he has to hide the pain from me.”

“It might just not be for you,” Steve says with a knowing expression. “Sometimes, when the right people are around, it’s easier to forget the pain. Makes it easier to live through. Just because he’s not being vocal about it all the time, doesn’t mean it’s not happening.”

“But isn’t that bad? He shouldn’t hide it from us, that’s not healthy.”

Steve shakes his head. “It’s not. If it persists, then we step in and make sure he’s ok. But he still might not remember everything or doesn’t want to. Let him sit with the fact that he lived, then we can work with all the other shit that comes with that.”

“Ok,” Dustin whispers. Suddenly hit by the fact that Steve knows what he’s talking about a little too well. Like he’s been through it all before.

And he has. More times than Dustin’s realized. Finally understanding the full of all they’ve been through together. The seriousness of it all. The things that have been kept from him for years, months, days. The pain that he’s been shielded from all this time.

Next part

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[unmotivatedwrit3r]

One in Eleven Million (final chapter)

damian wayne x reader x jon kent

(A/N): And we have reached the end! Thank you to everyone who has been following this story and I hope the ending was worth the wait. I also wrote at least some of this and the last chapter while delayed at a train station/on the train so any offhand references I make to either of those things are because of the haha.

And happy new year!

Series masterlist can be found here.

warnings: anxiety, train stations, small amount of cursing

wc: ~1400

~~

Jon blinked awake to Damian tapping him on the shoulder. 

“Huh?” 

“We’re almost there,” he said, nodding out the window. Outside, the scenery had changed from the green of Pennsylvania to the cloudy skyscraper city of Gotham. “Alfred’s meeting us at the station. I’ve already asked and he’ll drive them home if they’re comfortable.” 

Jon looked over at you. He couldn’t remember if you or he had fallen asleep first, but he felt privileged that you did at all. Sure, some of it might have been the exhaustion of the last day, but he had a feeling you wouldn’t have fallen asleep if you didn’t trust them to be there and wake you up. Based on your complaints about the station there, there was no way you wanted to end up in Newark. Or New York. 

Jon shook you gently. You opened your eyes, confused, then sat quickly upright. 

“Shit, I fell asleep? I didn’t mean to.”

“If it’s any consolation, so did I,” Jon shrugged. 

“I didn’t mean to miss the last hour,” you argued. 

“Last hour of what?” Damian stood up in the aisle, pulling Jon’s carry-on out from where he’d tucked it in. Jon grabbed his backpack then helped you pull your suitcase upright. 

“Of—thanks Jon—of time left with you guys.” You winced. Maybe that was too honest. Tugging your backpack over your shoulders, you followed Jon towards the exit at the end of the car. Damian stopped at the car door. You braced yourself with your suitcase to avoid toppling over as the train shuddered on the tracks. It really did feel like the plane turbulence from earlier. 

“This stop, Gotham Station,” the loudspeaker declared. One thing airplanes have going for them, you thought, better sound systems. The train’s announcements were barely audible. “Doors will open on the right side of the train. Please watch your step.” Anything further was indecipherable under the burbling of the speaker. 

“Wait, why did you say the last hour?” Jon asked as the three of you took the escalator up to the station's main area. 

“I have no idea how to contact you after this.” You pulled your suitcase over the lip of the escalator with a tug and continued on. Despite the amount of public transportation you’ve taken, Damian seemed to know the station better than you. You followed him as he weaved through the groups of people sprinkled around the area, Jon right behind. 

Damian stopped just outside a side entrance, and you moved around to his other side to avoid blocking the door. Jon followed. 

“We do all have phone numbers,” Damian suggested pulling out his phone. You assumed he was texting whoever was picking up him and Jon. 

“Oh, duh!” 

Jon’s excitement made you smile. The thought had crossed your mind earlier, but you’d dismissed it as a non-starter. You felt a little silly for that now. 

Jon’s phone was already open to a new contact sheet when he handed it to you. You weren’t sure if you’d ever actually given them your last name or if they remembered ever seeing it on your train ticket or boarding pass, but there was bound to be someone between Gotham and Metropolis that shared your first name, so you added it in anyway. Jon took it back from you and started typing. 

Your phone buzzed straightaway. You pulled it out of your pocket, smiling. 

“hi :)” the first message read. It was sent to you and a third number. Then “it’s jon”

“Huh,” you mused, reading it. “I’ve never seen anyone spell it like that before. That’s cool.”

You unlocked your phone, opened it to the group chat, and held it out to Damian. 

“Would you mind? So I don’t misspell your name?”

Damian muttered an assent and took it from you. He returned it with both contacts filled out. 

“Oh, great, thanks.” You chuckled at Jon’s contact. The name, instead of the Jon offered by the initial text, had been filled out as “Jonathan Kent.” Damian’s name, you were proud to say, was spelled the way you imagined it was. The last name was a funny coincidence, you thought, considering he lived in Gotham. 

“Wayne?” You asked, about to make a teasing joke. 

“Like Bruce Wayne, yes.” Damian said, carefully watching your reaction. 

“Like ‘Wayne Enterprises’ Wayne?” He nodded. “Holy shit. Wow, okay, I didn’t expect that. Wow.” You couldn’t read the expression on his face. Some part of you wondered if he was waiting for you to make a comment about his money or his father. 

“Why did you take the train with me?” You asked instead. The concrete was rough beneath your shoes, a noticeable contrast from the smoothness of airport flooring. “You could have easily had someone pick you up. Pick both of you up. So why–?” 

“Because we wanted to,” Jon answered simply. 

“I am not in the habit of making,” Damian hesitated, “friends and then leaving them behind.” 

“Yeah,” Your heart thudded loudly in your chest. “I’m glad we agree on that.” 

An unfamiliar black car pulled up beside you. You took a couple steps back. It was nice, but anything unfamiliar, nice or not, wasn’t worth the risk. 

Damian, on the other hand, moved in closer. He opened the passenger door and said something to the driver then turned back towards you. 

“Do you want us to drop you off at home?”

You hesitated for a moment. Jon was looking hopefully at you. Damian’s “friends” echoed in your head. 

“Yeah,” you agreed. “That would be great.” 

Jon’s face split into a grin. The corner of Damian’s lips quirked up. There was some warm feeling in your chest at the fact that you caught it. You smiled back. 

Alfred Pennyworth, as you learned his name was, stopped the car right outside of your building less than thirty minutes later. 

“I’ll get your suitcase,” Jon offered, hopping out of the car as you collected the rest of your things. 

“Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.” 

“You are very welcome,” he answered. 

You shut the door behind you, now face to face with Jon. 

“Is a hug okay?” You asked him. “I’m not sure if that’s a thing you do but-“

Jon gives good hugs, you decided immediately. You could feel the weight and warmth of his arms where they circled your shoulders. 

“I’ll text you, okay?” He let go, hands moving to shove in his pockets. “I’ll take a picture of Metropolis when I get home and send it.” 

You smiled at him; there was something concrete to look forward to. Damian came around the back of the car. 

“You’re not a hug person, right?” You asked him. He shrugged. 

“Only for certain people.” 

You nodded, oddly disappointed. Damian opened his arms. 

“Are you sure?” You asked him. He nodded and you let him set the pace, tightening your grip only when he did. Damian was a good hugger too, you realized. You wondered if the older brother you heard of hours ago on the plane and Jon both had something to do with that. 

“You guys know where I live now,” you adjusted your backpack over your shoulder and pulled up the handle on your suitcase. “So come visit sometime, okay?” Your gaze wandered over to Jon. “Well if you’re in town, I guess. Metropolis isn’t exactly walking distance.” 

Jon chuckled. 

“I’m here pretty often.”

Damian scoffed a quiet laugh. 

“We will. And keep in touch.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “You guys too.”

You gave a final wave before heading into your building. A cloud of melancholy followed you inside. You ignored it, pulling dirty clothes from your suitcase to toss in the hamper before heading to take a shower. 

Hair dripping but finally clean, you flopped onto your bed, reaching for your phone. Three messages were waiting for you. You answered the one from your parent, asking if you’d gotten home safe. The second was an email. You’d deal with that later, after you got some sleep. The third was a picture from Damian. 

He didn’t even make it through my shower, the attached message read. On your screen, Jon was lying on a couch underneath Damian’s large dog. He was fast asleep. 

You laughed and replied, then set your phone down. A nap would definitely throw off your sleep schedule, you knew, but Gotham was nocturnal anyway. You slept the afternoon away.

[sunrisemill]

♡ The little things ♡

Summary: Matt has always been pressured to live up to his father and everything that he expects him to be. Y/n has always been very quiet and has been pressured by her whole family to step out of her comfort zone and live her life free from her worries. What will happen when they unexpectedly run into each other at a random ice cream shop?

(Warnings: Toxic family members (Nothing happens though dw it’s only mentioned)

Pt.2

(Matt’s POV)

“You want me to leave?! Fine then, I’m done dealing with this shit.”

I shout out across the house before slamming the front door behind me.

This is the third fight we've had this week.

Ever since my dad found out I've been ditching classes he's been on my ass about everything.

So what? I skip a couple of art classes. It's not like it actually matters.

The thing is my dad is a stern man. Ever since I was a child he told me that I needed to learn how to be a real man.

So that means I shouldn't ever talk about how I feel. I should just suppress my emotions, so I do that.

The only downside is that my emotions come back up in bursts of anger that I can't control.

It's not like I want to be this way, it's the way I've been wired since I could remember.

But the truth is I’m scared.

I’m scared that I’m never going to escape these emotions.

Everyone is going to forever know me as the miserable grump, Matt Sturniolo.

I wish I could change it around but nobody gives me the chance.

Maybe… when the opportunity arises I might have a chance, but I know that's not true.

As I start to spiral into worse thoughts, a hot pink neon sign in the shape of an ice cream cone catches my attention.

I find myself squinting my eyes as I try to make out the letters.

“Gelato Galore”

No way they’re being serious…

GELATO GALORE?

That's ridiculous but I might as well try it, all I want is to be alone and what better place to be alone than an ice cream shop during winter?

I step through the door and I’m instantly overwhelmed by the bright colours, I feel like I’m drowning in an ocean of pink.

It’s everywhere I look!

As my eyes dart around they land on the only person in the shop besides the workers.

It’s a random girl and she seems upset, I feel like I know her from somewhere but I can’t place it.

The way she looks is something you could only describe as a depressing portrait made by a struggling artist, her hair falling in front of her face as tears roll down her cheeks.

The redness on her nose matching the small cherry on top of her sundae that she seems to be refusing to eat by the way she pushes it aside.

I feel a strong urge to check up on her but I don’t know if I should. I’ve never been good at helping people in need.

I sigh as I walk up to the counter. Whatever she's going through is none of my business.

~~~~

(Y/ns POV)

I let out a couple of sad sniffles as I push the little maraschino cherry that's on top of my ice cream to the side.

He was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago…

I keep telling myself that he must be stuck in traffic or maybe he's just running late and I'm overthinking it all.

I've been repeating all the different scenarios in my head and reasons why he could be late.

My nails impatiently tap against the pink plastic spoon they gave me, I feel as though I’ve been here for hours when in reality it has only been around twenty minutes.

Why can’t he just call me or even text me if he’s running late?

That's when I see my phone light up on the table. I quickly pick it up and I'm met with his contact name.

As I read the message he sent me I could physically feel my heart drop, all of the hope I had was crushed within a second

“I can't make it.”

What the fuck? No sorry? No explanation? Nothing.

I can't believe he could treat me with such disrespect.

I feel like such an idiot…

I sigh in defeat, I place my phone down on the table and dive straight back into my ice cream to distract myself from the current heartbreak I'm feeling.

As I scraped some ice cream from the bottom of the tub, I noticed that the chair in front of me had just pulled back and someone had taken a seat on it.

“Hey, I hope you don't mind me asking, but I couldn't help but notice that something seems to be bothering you. Is everything okay?”

what? I lift my head and I'm met with the sight of a stranger.

But he's not really a stranger, It appears to be Matt Sturniolo.

Although I have seen Matt at school and around the small town that we live in, we don't necessarily run in the same social group.

I sigh as I sit up straight and put down my now-empty ice cream tub.

“I'm fine, really. Don't worry about it.”  

I look back down at the table, silently praying that he goes away but he stays.

“So…you a fan of ice cream?”

His small voice catches me off guard, I’ve never heard him talk with such little confidence.

Every inch of my body screams at me to get up and leave. To ignore the boy sat opposite. To run straight back to my room and rot in bed. Run back to my comfort zone.

But I hear my mother's voice ringing throughout my head.

“Come on, Y/n. You're not going to go anywhere in life if you don't put yourself out there. Just try it once, you might be surprised by what could happen.”

So I swallow every anxious feeling screaming at me to leave.

“Yeah. I mean… who isn't?”

A small smile on my lips. I lift my head to look at him, noticing the corners of his lips curled up slightly.

~~~~

I feel a peaceful smile tug on my lips, the scent of cold crisp air filling my senses.

I've always loved the winter. It has a sense of comfort that has always overwhelmed me.

I feel myself dipping deeper and deeper into a state of tranquillity when suddenly the boy next to me speaks up.

“You never answered my question earlier.”

He peers down at me. I sigh.

“What question?”

I know what question he's talking about. I've been asked the same question for years and I've grown to become annoyed at it as I grow older.

“I asked you, why are you always by yourself? Don't you have any friends?”

I tense up and he notices. He stops walking and grabs my wrist, forcing me to stop in the middle of the pavement.

“I'm sorry…”

I watch as his face contorts into a remorseful expression. His eyebrows knitting together.

“I didn't mean to come off as rude. It's just… I've seen you around school and you're always alone, I'm curious.”

I sigh as I look away from him. This is the last thing I need right now. I don't need someone here pointing out stuff that I already know.

It's frustrating. I tug my wrist out of his grip.

“Why don't you… oh, I don't know… mind your business.”

My tone is filled to the brim with annoyance. The way his face falls causes a twinge of guilt to seep into my heart but I push it down.

“Look, I'm just trying to help.”

He speaks through gritted teeth.

That was my last straw.

Without saying another word, I spin around on my heels and walk in the other direction. Completely ignoring the sound of his voice calling out for me.

So much for trying to make a friend.

(A/N: omg this literally took me weeks to finish 😭 I’ve been having an INSANE and extremely frustrating writers block but she’s done 😋 thank you so so much for reading <333)

Tags: @guccifrog @junnniiieee07

[njpuckbunny]

Heyy! Could you please do some friends to lovers (smut) with Kirk? Like, mutual pinning but they’re both idiots so the band helps them get together (sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language)

Cuz That’s What Friends Do, Right?

Kirk Hammett x AFAB!Reader (y/n)

a/n: I LITERALLY LOVE U SO MUCH FOR THIS PLEASE THIS IS MY FAV REQUEST EVER. I HOPE U ENJOY IT <33

warnings: mutual pining, p in v, unprotected sex, greasy kirk era , sir kink, dominant!kirk, sub!reader, afab reader, smut, and metallica being a matchmaker

holy shit.

“I have some big news guys,” you began, ready for your band's input on this news, “we’re gonna be opening for Metallica for their new tour.”

A mix of anxious and happy remarks filled the room from the rest of your band.

Your lead guitarist replied to your information with a slightly rude comment, “is this just because you fuck around with Kirk, or did we actually earn it?”

You were seriously taken aback by her comment but replied quickly, “Me and Kirk are nothing but friends, and I'm sure he mentioned us, but we earned this spot. Pack your bags to meet at the bus station.”

Honestly, you were pretty worried about this. Being an all girl-band with yourself as the bassist and lead singer? It wouldn’t be easy to earn the public’s respect. You had been friends with Kirk ever since you stepped foot into highschool. Kirk was off to the side and calm, while you were anxious and trying to leave as soon as possible. You claim it as fate, but Kirk always said you were gonna trip in front of him anytime ��cuz of his beauty.” Long story short, you were carrying your books to a new class and were looking down at your schedule when you bumped into Kirk. He helped you pick up your books and you exchanged family phone numbers. You couldn’t count the times when you told your older sister to get off of the phone trying to call her favorite rockstars phony numbers. You and Kirk called hours and hours on end and you honestly just felt like he was your better half.

So when he joined Exodus, you were more than happy to cheer him on to pursue his dreams. You both promised that whoever got more famous first, the other had to open for their band.

Right after Kirk was chosen for Metallica, you started your own band R.O.P.E. You could’ve sworn it stood for something, but you were too high to remember.

But now that you were touring with Metallica? You didn’t know if you could hide it for any longer…. yea about that. Ever since sophomore year started, you had developed a massive crush on Kirk. It wasn’t like it was obvious… was it?

Definitely not. And it didn’t matter cuz he didn’t like you back. End. Of. Story.

But tonight might change how you saw him, maybe you just see him as a friend now. Right?

WRONG

The moment you stepped onto the bus and saw his smile. Ugh, You melted. And it doesn’t mean just inside, you blushed, flushed, you could’ve sworn you developed a fever right there and melted into a puddle of nothing on the ground.

You heard whistling, and your name, and your name again,

“Hey! y/n,” it was kirk, motioning you over to the back of the bus. His leg was over an empty seat, saving it for you, just like he did on the bus home.

Yes. You guys took the same bus. Dumbass Kirk would get off at your house some days (literally everyday) and listen to cds and cassettes with you all evening because he didn’t want to go home.

Sometimes he would fall asleep with you on your bed and you’d wake up with your limbs entangled and Kirk sleeping as heavy as he could.

cuz that’s what friends do? Right?

After what felt like an hour of admiring his features, you moved your way back to the back of the bus and talked with Kirk.

You couldn’t help but notice the way your legs bounced oh so close together. You wanted your legs wrapped around his waist as he—-

“y/n?” “hello??” Kirk exclaimed as he clapped in front of your face.

“Sorry,” you sputtered, “I'm really nervous about tonight.”

He sincerely put his palm over your knee and comfortingly spoke, “you’ve got nothin’ to worry about sweetheart, you’re gonna kill it.”

You muttered a thanks and Kirk gave you a grin, god he was going to be the death of you. To combat your love for Kirk and nerves for the show, you decided to take a nap.

When you awoke, it was basically time for you and your band to get ready for the opening act. You dressed in your signature style and made sure that your instrument matched your clothes. As you turned to check if everything was in place you saw the scar that lined your bicep. When you were at highschool prom, waiting for your ride home, some jerk on the side of the road “accidentally” sliced you with a pocket knife. Just as you were about to fight back, Kirk rode up in his mom’s car and punched the guy right in the face. That was your first scar, and Kirks’ first punch. (that he gave).

In the time you were reminiscing, the time you had to check yourself was up and your band was ready to play the opening act.

As you stepped out onto the stage, you were quickly blinded by the lights and tried to blink away the blots to see the crowd. The microphone feedback whined as you approached it. You spoke loudly into it as you addressed the crowd to play your first song.

time skip to after the opening act!

You hopped off the stage and gave Kirk a pat on the back as he hugged you and told you what an amazing job you did. You thanked him and wished him is own luck before he stopped you.

“y/n I—“ but he was interrupted by the que that he should get on stage, so he just yelled as he was pushed onto the stage, “see me after the show!”

what the fuck?

And Metallica's show? Fucking Outrageous.

The way that Kirk’s fingers slid up and down on the frets as he played the solos and the way his pants rode up his form as he rutted against the guitar.

Your whole mind was flooded with unholy thoughts as the show went on.

You traveled back to the living room behind the stage as you waited for everyone to get off stage. As they piled into the room you individually congratulated all of them for the amazing performance. Until your eyes landed on Kirk….. oh fuckkkk.

You could’ve sworn that your whole body shut down right then and there. Like, how the fuck did he look so hot after playing the most tiring set??? It was seriously bothering you.

James spoke through the thick fog of tension first, “okay, Lars, Cliff, and I are gonna go wash up, see y’all later.”

You heard a click come from outside the door that was previously closed by James, accompanied with outside chuckles.

“What the fuck,” you started, “did they lock us in here?”

Kirk pulled on the door handle and pounded on the door. He nodded and scoffed to himself.

You spoke at the same time,

“Kirk—“

“Y/N—-“

You quickly apologized and let Kirk speak first.

It all came out in one fast blur from his mouth, “Y/n, before the show I wanted to tell you everything you meant to me and I didn’t think you felt like same until James locked—-“

You shut him up by pushing him up against the nearest wall and pressing your lips to his.

“Shut up—“ your remarks got cut off by Kirk picking you up and setting you down on the couch that was pressed against the furthest wall of the room.

He spoke through the silence, “tell me what you want.”

“Please touch me“

“Please what?”

“Sir.”

He nodded in agreement as his fingers trailed down your waist while he got on his knees. He pulled down your pants and threw them across the room while he took off his shirt. He grabbed your legs and placed them on his shoulders as he looked up at you from your cunt. Agonizingly slow, he placed a finger on your clit, and inserted his tongue into you.

You whined, “kirk— please”

“shhh sweetheart i’ll take care of you.”

sweetheart.

His finger began making circles as his tongue lapped your juices. Your fingers entangled his curls as he worked you up to your climax.

“Kirk I’m gonna—-“

“No,” He pulled off of you and flipped you onto your stomach while taking off his pants and your shirt.

You pleaded again, but he spoke over, “you’ll cum when I tell you to.”

Breaking the dominance he asked you for your comfort, “Do you want this?”

You replied faster than he finished talking, “yes. sir.”

“Good.”

He inserted his cock deep into your cunt, already slick from him eating you out. His thrusts were hard and snapping onto your ass. He grabbed a fistful of your hair as your back arched upon his cock. The new angle was letting him bottom out, only making you feel higher to your climax.

You began to beg, “please sir. I wanna come , so bad. Please.”

“Okay, ready sweetheart,” Kirk answered.

You mumbled an mhm and you both let yourselves go as he fucked out his climax and his thrusts became sloppy. You both panted on the large couch you laid on, smiling at each other.

Kirk broke the silence first, “I love you, that’s what I was going to say before the show.”

He looked at you with puppy eyes and you responded, “I love you too,” as you kissed him on the lips again.

A few moments when by of you two gathering the moments happiness before you heard a knock and James speak, “It’s about time you two fucked.”

[yzafre]

who wore it better – 2003 v 2012 episode comparisons

I said I wanted to do this in my 2003 thoughts post, and I’m gonna. I've been picking away at this for a couple weeks now.

I’m focusing on places where they actually recycled a storyline rather than adapted general concepts.  Fugitoid and the space arc is an example of the second method – Robot Scientist with a connection to a Dangerous Machine is a shared concept, but the stories are different.

“Ohhh how did we end up here we’ve GOT to figure out how to get home, our Dad might still be in danger” versus “we HAVE to collect the McGuffins before the enemy or earth is going to EXPLODE. AGAIN.” You know?

Comparing those types of adaptations could be done, but it’s not what I’m interested in here.  I specifically want to look at the places that made me think “oh, 2012 just copied this” while I was watching 2003.

Now, obviously this is extremely subjective.  So take this as me defending my nominations for winner in these categories, rather than some sort of objective truth.  I am presenting my dinky power-point on why you should vote for my favorites.  Ect.  Your preferences may be different!

My ramblings on the episodes got long (should I have split this into parts? maybe! didn't though), so uhhhh...

tl;dr: Scoring got weird at 3.5 to 2003, 3 to 2012, and two draws.

Key takeaways: 2003 better matches my personal tastes, and what makes 2012 good is the stuff specific to its iteration, rather than copying 2003

With all that taken care of, here’s my opinions, in very messy order.

Meet Casey Jones vs The Good, The Bad and the Casey Jones

So, this was the very first episode that made me sit back and go: wait.  This is just.  The same thing? 

Raph loses a fight, loses his temper violently over it.  He then goes out to get some air and runs into Casey, getting into a fight.  Raph goes back and apologizes to his brother, and then they have to deal with the Casey situation.  Eventually they’re friends.

That being said, they do handle things a bit differently inside of those plot points, in a way that makes me very split on which one is better.

So, this episode is doing two things: introducing Casey (at least to the turtles, in 2012’s case), and spotlighting Raph’s anger issues, and the shows handle both of them differently.  So let's look at them:

Raph and his anger

I want to start with the positioning of the episode within the wider series.

This is the 4th episode of 2003.  At this point, they’re still setting up the characters and your understanding of them – so this is really here to say hey, our Raph has a temper, that’s going to be a thing going forward. (I'm watching '87 right now, and while I've heard Raph gets more of his anger late in the series, at the beginning he is... not that. So signaling this for people who might have watched the previous show is valid.)

After this, I don’t remember there being other episodes that are Explicitly About Raph’s anger issues?  That’s not to say there aren’t any – there very well could’ve been some that were just so boring I don’t remember them, which would be a whole other issue – but what I remember of him being, to quote the show, a “hot-head” is integrated into other stories.

For 2012, this is nearly halfway through season 2, and is one of 3 episodes I can think of off the top of my head that at least start out framed as a lesson on Raph’s anger issues.  (The one with the guy that turns into a spider mutant, this one, and…. Okay so I don’t remember the details but I’m Pretty Sure I remember there being another one post-space arc).

Now, in theory this is good – having a sort of long-term journey recurring throughout the series.  In practice… eh. 

This is very subjective, but from the way the topic was constantly put on the shelf until they wanted to use it for an episode, to the way it was all extremely surface level and used mostly for jokes, it didn’t do much for me.

That aside, let’s look at the content of the episode itself:

Raph's anger issues have two different tones here.

2003 Raph’s snapping at Mikey is framed a lot more seriously – and a lot more dangerously – than 2012 Raph going at Leo.  And, accordingly, ‘03 Raph is a lot more horrified at his actions, whereas ‘12 Raph is more petulant, unwilling to fully own up to his mistake.

That carries over to when they’re “getting some air” - ‘03 Raph is blatantly angry with himself, where ‘12 is complaining about his brother’s not getting it.  I do think some of that frustration with himself is buried underneath, but it's interesting to note the difference between how aware of it they are. (Of course, ‘12 also didn’t try to brain his brother over the head with a metal pipe.  So.)

The two different versions also shifted what they chose to have “spelled out” versus implied.  What I mean is.... okay, so ‘03 had Raph explicitly say “What is wrong with me” – that frustration with himself I mentioned earlier – where it’s kind of buried underneath for ‘12.

On the other hand, ‘12 Raph flat out says he wasn’t angry, just “determined to win,” when explaining himself to Splinter, whereas with ‘03 the reasoning comes from Raph’s “You think you’re better than me?” line during the fight (and a bit of Mikey’s taunting, the menace), allowing you to (very easily, let's be real, I don't know that you can really count this as subtext) connect the dots on how it escalated.

So, that leads to their fight with Casey – where they both get carried away, before coming to their senses and questioning what they’re doing (and subsequently getting surprise-attacked).  The difference here is that ‘03, upon calming down, went back to trying to talk some sense into Casey (using the lessons he’s obviously trying to absorb himself), while to me ‘12 Raph just kinda seemed disoriented by it all?

Which. Fair.

Next step: the apology.  VERY different receptions.  The ‘03 brothers greet Raph with worry and care, and take his apology quietly and warmly, whereas for ‘12 they act like this is another Tuesday, a bit dismissive, and tease and taunt him through his apology.  I’m not trying to disparage the ‘12 turtles here – not exactly – more so observing the difference in tone once more.

When people say the ‘03 turtles feel older, I think this is a huge part of it – the ‘12 turtles’ behavior feels very “stupid teenager”.  And I mean that in a genuine, fairly affectionate way.  I remember being that age, I was dumb.  You don’t know how to handle all these strong feelings, you have no impulse control. Also around 2012 I remember being genuine being deeply uncool, so. But ‘03 are demonstrating a higher level of emotional maturity, compared to that, and it does make them feel older.

Anyways, after that you get the reunion with Casey, having very different tones.  ‘03 purposefully tries to reach out and rehabilitate help Casey get himself under control, whereas ‘12 diverges into a surprise attack by the Foot where Raph and Casey bicker their way into teamwork.

Overall, ‘03 takes a more... introspective? Approach to Raph’s anger, where ‘12 flickers between being slightly emotional and using the situation for humor or cool action scenes – it feels like setup for an arc that I never felt we got satisfying payoff for.

For my tastes, I think I prefer ‘03 for the Raph part of the episode, if only because it remains thematically cohesive till the end.  From start to finish, Raph is trying to impart the lesson he wants to learn to Casey.  With 12, it feels like the “Raph’s anger issues” thread got a bit lost/abandoned in building up the Raph-Casey dynamic.

Speaking of...

Casey Jones

I think ‘12 is the better Casey intro episode.  There, I said it.

I know, I know!  It’s not technically where we meet Casey, we already saw him interacting with April (also scenes I like), but... although having finished 2003 I think ‘03 has the better overall Casey (mostly because they give him like. Actual personal connections to the world), ‘12 has the better initial burst of character, in my opinion.

His little intro monologue is so stupid, and I love it.  The skates and the little taser-gloves he obviously put together himself (and the fact that we only got one episode of Donnie and Casey bonding over this kind of engineering is criminal???).

The initiative to follow Raph down, his reactions to Splinter, the entire subway tunnel chase scene, where his and Raph’s rapport is building up... it’s good stuff!  I like it!  Maybe there’s a bit less depth in some places – we don’t get the personal connection with the Purple Dragons, how it ties back to his family – but his character voice, his initiative and impulsivity, and his creativity all come through.

It’s such a shame they didn’t do more to add to his character throughout the series in ‘12, because he had a fantastic early showing.  But then, that series didn’t seem interested in doing that for any of their characters, to me.  Sigh.

But... just looking at the episode itself, I'd give the Casey have to 2012.

So... draw?  Great way to start off, I know.

Shredder Strikes Back vs The Invasion (or: Leo gets thrown through a window)

So, this is a tough competition, we’re gonna have to take this point by point, I mean -

2012.  It’s 2012.  Are you kidding me.

Okay, look.  2012 already has an advantage just on moving this from halfway through season 1 to the season 2 finale, but, I mean... come on.

With 2003, there was barely any build up with the Shredder.  We’d seen him sort of being in charge of the various villains since early on – but the turtles didn’t see that!  For them, he showed up, tricked Leo, Splinter gave some back story, they fought and then Splinter seemingly killed him.  It just... wasn’t that dramatic? To me??

So when you have Leo thrown through the window, whispering “he’s back”, I was just like... I see no reason for this level of dread.  It doesn’t feel that personal, or important, or.... anything, really.  I know 2003 came first, but having watched 2012 beforehand this was kind of a letdown.  Didn’t feel earned.

Now, 2012 on the other hand....

Shredder has been a constant, ever-increasing threat since the moment he showed up in Season 1.  It was already personal with Splinter, yes, but then he also became a subject of looming dread for the turtles themselves.  And it doesn’t come out of nowhere. 

Like, yes, we, the viewers, were aware 2003 Shredder survived, but otherwise he was just hanging out off-screen, doing who knows what.  He wasn’t on the mind.  2012, on the other hand, showed the way Shredder was slowly amassing power, planning for something.

And then you add the Kraang on top of it.

Like, seriously, making this a two-prong threat is. Mwah!  The boys are falling apart, stressed by the time-limit of the upcoming Kraang invasion, disagreeing on how to handle it.  And then the argument gets cut short by their home being discovered – they don’t even get a chance to choose their path together, because they have to run, and everything’s chaos, and they’re still focused on the Kraang.

And that’s when the Shredder comes in.

This is insult on top of injury with everything going wrong that possibly could.  This is an immaculate payoff to the set-up they’ve been doing all season. This is fantastic.

And when Leo is thrown through the window, you feel it – the dread, the horror, the regret.  It really feels like the breaking point of “we can’t take any more” that leads to them retreating.  It has a weight to it that 2003’s version was sorely missing.

When it comes to Leo getting thrown through a window, 2012 takes the win, hands down.  The stakes, the drama, and my investment are all so much higher than they were in ‘03, no contest, it’s my favorite part of ‘12.

What comes after, on the other hand....

Tales of Leo + The Monster Hunter vs Season 3a (or, the Farmhouse Arc)

Maybe it’s unfair to compare 2 episodes to 8 episodes.  And maybe this is diverging from my “only episodes that are directly connected” rule I stated in the beginning, but I need to get this off my chest.  Because I just.  I’m not impressed by 2012’s farmhouse arc. 

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Warning: rant ahead, this is VERY subjective and heavily based in my personal tastes.  Reminder that I do genuinely enjoy 2012, I just think the farmhouse arc is the lowest point in the whole series and is representative of what I find to be the weakest aspect of the series’ writing across the board.  That being said.

I see what 2012 was trying to do, by drawing out Leo’s recovery over all those episodes, giving the characters some space to breathe.  But they didn’t do it well in my opinion, and honestly the whole thing.  Flounders. 

2012’s best feature is its plot writing, how one episode tumbles into the next, Rube Goldberg machine-style, across an entire season.  But at the farmhouse, they’re removed from the greater plot, and that’s not doing the writing any favors.

And it’s not that the episode ideas are bad – I generally think they’re pretty interesting!  It’s just that without the inter-connected plot, they need something else to push them from “okay” to “exceptional”.  Usually, this would be where deeper characterization and relationship building would kick in instead, but uh.  I don’t personally think 2012 is great at that.

They under-cut the message of the episode with Big Foot, the Casey and Donnie friendship doesn’t really go anywhere after this, every other episode where inter-personal issues are only dealt with on a very surface level become even more obvious and a bit annoying without the greater plot to distract from it. Yes I know this is a kids show, but A:tlA had already finished airing at this point, also on Nickelodeon.

I think there’s a consistent issue with character writing in 2012 where they do what looks like set-up with no intent to ever give a meaningful pay-off or significantly change the status-quo, and that’s very much on display here.

And it’s not that there was nothing good in the season – I liked what they were doing with Raph, and how he was trying to help/encourage Leo, while somewhat bungling it in very realistic ways.  It was a fascinating look at what this Raph acting at his best as the Lancer trope could be, and I genuinely wish they leaned into it more later down the line.

Also, I’m always thrilled to see the Leo-April friendship get some focus, so Eyes of the Chimera was a favorite.  But across the board... the season didn’t wow me, and the longer it went on, the more I could see the cracks.

It all tops off with Vision Quest, which was my biggest disappointment in the entire series, the point at which I had to really stop and reset my expectations on what kind of story the writers were interested in telling.  The summary describes them having to go on a spiritual journey to really face themselves and their weaknesses, and I was so excited!  But then it was just.  Really surface level.  And occasionally confusing.

Raph needs to work on his temper, sure – but how is this any different than any of the other episodes about it?  Do we look at all at where his anger comes from?  A deeper way to handle it?  No, of course not.

Mikey needs to focus, stop getting distracted – I mean, yeah sure I guess.  Not a particularly interesting way of handling it, though.  Also, even if he manages it here, I know it's not going to pan out to the rest of the show, they’re not giving up their easy source of humor for the younger demographic.

And Donnie needs to... stand his ground? What?  I was so caught off guard.  It’s not that it’s completely out of touch, we see him coming up with complex paths to his goals, trying to think his way around of problems, ect, but... it was never really highlighted or presented as a real problem other than maybe the episode on instinct over thinking too hard?  It just felt really disconnected from anything else they were doing with him.  A genuinely interesting pay-off scene, with no solid set-up.

And Leo.  Oh jeez.  My friends.  WHAT is up with how they handled Leo’s knee injury?  The pain is just in my mind? It's not real??  Really???  No, thank you.

Like... I think this was supposed to be a riff on what Splinter says about ‘03 Leo’s coma, and him being trapped in his head due to fear – but because in ‘12 they tied it to an actual, specific physical injury, the execution falls apart. 

(Especially when they use the same flash-effect they used on Leo having issues with his knee of Splinter having issues later in the series but I probably shouldn't take that into account here.)

I mean, his quest is the closest to being satisfying, because they had lain interesting groundwork with his struggle with recovery and his insecurities in previous episodes, but then they just completely bungle it at the end! Argh!

I was so excited for Vision Quest, but this didn't tell me anything new about the characters or progress the characters in any meaningful way! It had no effect on how the characters are written going forward. So – other than some admittedly very cool fight choreography – what was the point?  Was there one??  It felt like putting on the trappings of an emotionally deep story without any of the actual, you know.  Depth.

I am clawing at the walls. Look at all the potential you wasted.

And yes, I’m aware this is all very subjective, and again part of a show for kids, but that’s how it hit me.

The 2003 farmhouse arc, on the other hand, was very short, and I think it benefited from that.  It had two episodes, and it knew what it was doing with both of them.  They felt purposeful, in the larger arc of the story.

First episode: they make their way to the farmhouse, Leo’s in a coma (according to Splinter, one driven by his fear), and his family tells stories of when he was brave/strong as a little kid to try and bring him out.

Wonderful, amazing, I love this episode.  So much character work – both in the past and present!  By going back to when they were kids, it helps us contextualize the turtles’ relationships by making them simpler.

In showing early memories that probably started cementing their views of each other, we see the core around which they developed.  By seeing which memory each brother chooses to present, we get some insight into how they each see Leo.  It gives us a point A to our current point B, which allows us to extrapolate the line between the two, how they developed.

And then you also get the little moments of how the brothers are handling this catastrophic event, how they react to the stress, to seeing their brother so hurt – Raph especially!  It’s pure character work and I love it.

After that, we get one episode of shenanigans, which is both representative of that “space to breathe” after Leo woke up, and also gives space for the B-plot (which is the truly arc-important plot) of Leo, now awake, dealing with his own handling of this stressful situation.

Is the A-plot of this episode quite as good as some of the ideas for the 2012 episodes?  Honestly, no, but just the fact that it’s carrying the Leo recovery story pushes it ahead.  We see Leo struggling with his failure, Raph stepping up to herd him back on the right track – the idea of physically remaking his swords to remake himself!  And, though we don’t know it yet, how hard Leo takes this is great foreshadowing to how he reacts going into his season 4 breakdown.

And then, having done the character work they wanted to accomplish, the writers go back to the main story.  The characterization here matters (and also is good) in a way that whatever is going on in the 2012 farmhouse arc just.  Isn’t. 

In my opinion.

Okay, rant over, winner is obvious, moving on.

Triceratons

Again, we’re not comparing most of the space arcs, as that’s apples to oranges, but there are two episodes that caught my attention:

Rogue in the House vs Dinosaur Seen in Sewers!

Here we've got two episodes where the turtles find a Very Confused Triceraton and trick him into helping them.

I like the 2003 one better.

Honestly, it comes down to the context of the episode.  Rogue in the House comes after the turtles have been in space and when they know more about who the Triceratons are.  2012 on the other hand is a sudden introduction to a new arc.

2003 also... questions the ethics of their decision more, by the end.  It’s a bit more empathetic?  And I appreciate that.

I will give 2012 credit that translating “we’ve been dropped into the middle of a war where both sides are bad” over to be attached to the Kraang, which they’ve built up already as a powerful alien threat, was clever.  It doesn’t have the same edge of commentary that “and one of these sides looks just like us humans” has, but it is clever use of their existing world-building, and I like it.

The Arena vs The Arena of Carnage

The most obvious connection in the 2012 space arc – the turtles get thrown into a gladiator arena.

Now, 2003 does have an unfair advantage in this comparison, as The Arena is heavily bolstered by the set-up work done in The Big House, giving you a sense of place, stakes, connection to the other characters...

That last bit is where my bias and personal taste shows: I really love the turtles making any kind of meaningful connection with other characters, and I find this more convincing in the 2003 version than the 2012 one.

But 2012 also weakens itself in its own right by doing some setup here with no long-term pay off.  You’ve got your fellow prisoner, who turns out to be a Triceraton who objected to the leadership's decisions... and after this episode, that means nothing!  Cool, okay.

Like I get that was a part of the episode they’re pulling from, but if they’re not planning on reusing that long-term story, then they really could have cut that aspect all together.  I know they have enough creativity in them to adapt the concept of “stuck in a gladiator arena” to do something more interesting, they’ve proved they have it in them.  They just... didn’t, and the plot point didn’t translate well.  Ah, well.

2003 also wins this one.

City at War vs... City at War?(???)

Look, I am only comparing these because they use the exact same name.  Otherwise, it’s nowhere near a fair comparison.  For 2012, this is actually part of a couple episodes where they talk about there being a power vacuum after the Shredder is out of the picture, but...

Can we be so real?  They don’t even get close to the scale of 2003.  Like with the farmhouse, it’s not that they don’t have any good ideas – I like the Don Visioso episode quite a bit – but it never gets to the depth or scale I want it to. 

Like, 2003 made it visually obvious that the city is falling apart, that things are really out of control, in a way you can feel. Though, honestly, I’m not even sure 2012 could reach the levels of 2003, because they never put as much effort into making their NYC feel... real?  I guess?

Also, the 2003 City at War arc is just.  It’s really good, guys.  It did such great work on Leo and Raph’s characterization, the danger in the city is palpable, the tension is thick, and then you add Karai on top of it all?

You’d think 2012 could push this, given the added dimensions to Karai and her connection to Shredder, but it ends up falling short.  Point again goes to 2003.

What a Croc! Vs It Came From the Depths (Leatherhead)

So. I am painfully biased, because It Came From the Depths is my favorite 2012 Mikey episode, and I thought What a Croc! was... just okay.

I frequently bemoan that 2012 didn’t lean more into long-form character arcs for their story, and this is one of the central episodes that defined my desire for Mikey’s arc.

The instant compassion and understanding he has for Leatherhead – the way he recognizes and is willing to work with his trauma responses, but also is childishly impatient with the process when it gets messy later on, showing he still has some maturing to do – it's great, and I love it.  I didn’t find the same kind of depth in the 2003 episode.

On the other hand, long-term I like Leatherhead better in 2003, just because he’s more present as ally, friend, or even family.  2012 Mikey’s always excited to see Leatherhead, but you don’t exactly see them hanging out.

But this is about the episode, and for that, I’ll give it to 2012.

Renet (Time Travails + Return of the Savanti Vs Turtles in Time + Tale of the Yokai)

I’ll be real with you, 2003 gains points with me just because this is another example of 2012 poorly shoving in romance. I would like to make it clear – I don’t have an objective issue with the turtles being in romantic relationships.  It’s just... don’t put it in there if the writing's going to be so... bad. And boring. And unnecessary.

Additionally, this particular example put me off a bit more because... hm. Okay, the episode starts with Mikey going “I'm never gonna get caught up in all that!" Only for the show to do the writing equivalent of saying "of course you will, as soon as the right person comes along. And here she is!"

And uhm.  Okay, so, I’m asexual with a big ? when it comes to romance.  So that framing is..... nghghghgh I don't like it. Like I get the joke, but it still gave me the ick.

Also it was another infatuation-at-first-sight situation like Donnie which. Is a romantic trope that is So Stupid, you CANNOT tell me that's how it actually works, I don't believe you, and also it makes for stupid, boring writing. So there.

Ahem.

Once you get past that, there’s points to be made for both episodes.  The way the 2003 turtles find Renet just kind of tiring but can’t help going along with her anyways is very funny to me, but 2012 lets them do Tales of the Yokai, and I enjoy the concept of them getting to see what Actually Happened Back Then, rather than just hearing subjective stories of it.  Adds some texture.

I dunno on this one – if it’s Time Travails vs Turtles in Time, 2003 wins, but once you move on to Tale of the Yokai I give it to 2012.  Call it a draw?

Loosely inspired by

Okay. So. These are things where I can’t say “Oh, they were just doing this story again”, but where I think there might have been some heavy inspiration.  Your mileage may very on these, and you could think I’m completely wrong, but I thought they’d be interested to talk about.

Even if they are from Back to the Sewers.

The Engagement Ring to The Power Within Her

April gets magic jewelry that possesses her, goes on a rampage?  Admittedly, the set-up is very different, as is the tone, but... well, you have to wonder.

I thought The Engagement Ring was one of the better episodes of Back to the Sewers, but as entertaining as it was, I’m still going to give this to 2012, I think.  I like things that have more build-up to them, and they did pretty good at setting up this episode ahead of time, building up that dread.  And it just did more with the concept, you know?

Also, it fit well into my interpretation/re-write of April’s character, so.

Identity Crisis to Brain Worms

I mean.  Turtles get brain-washed by the Foot, have to be broken out of it by being reminded of memories/who they were.  Methodology of the brainwashing is very different, admittedly, which is why I put this down here rather than in the main section!  But it’s similar enough for me to connect them.

This is another situation where I think 2012 took a concept and further developed it.  The brain worms are fantastically gruesome, and really treated like the existential horror it should be.  The amount of fics I’ve seen expanding on the brain-worms concept is proof of how it hooks in people’s brains.

Another point to 2012.

Conclusion

So let’s run a tally.

I'm not sure the two Back to the Sewer episodes count, but I also maybe have broken my rule on the farmhouse arc... I guess we could count those as half points?

Casey Intro: Draw

Window: point 2012

Farmhouse: half-point 2003

Lost triceraton: point 2003

Gladiator arena: Point 2003

City at War: point 2003

Leatherhead intro: point 2012

Renet: Draw

Losely inspired: cumulative point 2012

So that's... 3.5 for 2003, 3 for 2012, and two draws? Pretty close.

Realistically, I think these should be the two takeaways from my opinions:

First, 2003 better matches my personal tastes. I'm a character arc girly, and 2003 gave a lot more attention to that aspect of their writing than 2012 did, and that affects my opinions. See: the Vision Quest rant.

Second, what makes 2012 good is the stuff that’s specific to its iteration.

The way they adapted the Hamato Yoshi backstory from 2003 to be about Splinter and Shredder, making Karai Splinter’s stolen daughter, and how that whole plot line plays out.  The way they make the Kraang a whole organization, and their alliance with Shredder.  The full season, Rube-Goldberg machine buildup of plot.  These are all the thing that make it excel.

So... yeah. That's my thoughts. Your opinions might be different, and - if you're nice about it, please - I would love to hear your thoughts on what I've said, which episodes you like better, and why you like them! Shows hit different people, well, differently!

[laundrybiscuits]

(continued from this and this)

“Yeah, I just told her to give them the cold shoulder. Don’t have to be mean or anything, just ignore ‘em a little. Play it cool. Drives girls crazy, ‘cause then they have to work to get your attention.”

Eddie stares at him. 

“Holy shit, Buckley’s gonna die alone and it’s gonna be a hundred percent your fault. That is the worst fucking advice I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Steve actually looks offended, like his honor’s been impugned. “What the hell, man? I’ve picked up like a million girls that way. I’m telling you, it works.”

“Yeah, okay, now I’m seeing why my sage advice is required for this whole endeavor. That kind of thing might fly if you’re some alpha dog prom king, but lesbians are like…giant pandas or some shit, okay? The conditions have to be precisely calibrated or they’ll just hibernate in a cave by themselves eating bamboo forever.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” says Steve. 

Eddie shrugs. “Whatever, I’m not a panda scientist. The point is…okay, let’s do a thought experiment.” Oh, this is a bad, bad idea. The Munson specialty. “Say you wanted to get a guy interested in you. How would you do it?”

“I’d just—” Steve stops, frowning. “I mean, girls usually just…laugh at guys’ jokes and stuff. Or wear, like, makeup?”

“How are you so awful at this,” says Eddie. “Jesus. I swear to god I remember you doing better with girls at school. Anyway, I didn’t ask what girls do, I asked what you’d do.”

“Shit, I don’t know. Isn’t that why I’m here?” Steve’s getting a little huffy, fidgeting. “I’d just…find a way to hang out with the guy, I guess. Laugh at his dumb jokes.”

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie says patiently. “But that’s what you do with friends too, right? And when you’re walking a perilous path far from the bright streets of heterosexuality, you probably don’t want to risk being too obvious, in case you’re wrong. So you gotta just…give them an opening to let them, like, signal if they’re interested. If they’re looking for a sign, they’ll take it.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “Ok, but what if they’re not interested yet? Like…sometimes girls take a while to warm up to you.”

“Cut your losses and move on.” Admittedly, Eddie’s still working on that part. 

“What? Man, I’m starting to think you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Eddie scowls at the skeptical look on Steve’s face. “Jesus, the disrespect. Why am I not telling this directly to Buckley, anyway? She’s the one in need of these hard-earned pearls of gay wisdom.”

Steve lets out a big, gusty sigh and tips his head back against the couch. “Because she said if I tried to give her any more help with dating, she’d smother me in my sleep and pin it on Dustin.”

“Attagirl,” says Eddie approvingly. 

“But obviously she still needs help, so this is like—a stealth mission. For love.”

“For love,” says Eddie. “Yeah, okay.” 

———

“Hey, can you—”

Robin whirls around at the unexpected voice and promptly trips over nothing at all, arms flailing out to avoid crashing into the library returns cart.

“Oh, shit,” says the stranger, reaching out a hand like she’s going to catch Robin’s elbow, but pulling back at the last second. “Um. Sorry.”

Robin blinks down at a girl in head-to-toe black, including dusty black combat boots. “Aren’t you hot,” she says, then wants to die. “I mean—like, just, with the heat and all, it’s a billion degrees out, I think if I tried to wear that much black I’d instantly dissolve like the Wicked Witch of the West.”

The girl stares back at her for a second, then bursts out laughing. It’s a nice laugh. 

“As if. I’m from Utah, this is nothing.”

“Oh! Utah! You’re not—are you, uh, Argyle’s girlfriend?” The way Argyle’d described her, Robin had been picturing some kind of Elvira-themed ingenue in lace, maybe smoking like a 1920s flapper. This makes more sense for a real-life teenager, though: oversized t-shirt tucked into ratty black jeans, with some cheap-looking silver jewelry tied around her neck. Her eyeliner’s heavier than anything Robin’s ever seen in Hawkins, smudging messily a little in the heat that’s apparently nothing to her. It makes her look a little bit like a panda bear, but not in a bad way.

“Not anymore.” She grimaces. “Ugh, that sounds mean. We’re, y’know, still friends and everything. I’m Eden.”

“Robin,” says Robin, gesturing at herself like a loser. “Hi.”

“Hi,” says Eden, and smiles at her.

[deer0skullz]

Does anyone else feel like Umbrella Academy, What We Do in the Shadows and Our Flag Means Death went down very similar paths or is that just me?

To preface, this is mostly based on how I felt as I watched the shows but also on some of the opinions I picked up from the fandoms.

Also, I’m not going to go back and rewatch all of these shows for the sake of a Tumblr post so I’m working from memory and if you feel like I’ve misremembered any of the plot/ characters let me know.

1. Started as well-received and highly acclaimed live-action fantasy shows with ensemble casts.

Based on my own opinions and what I remember from other fans, UA seasons 1-2 were fairly well received, as were WWDITS seasons 1-3/4 and OFMD season 1.

They’re all definitely different genres of fantasy but I’d say they still all fit under the label. And they obviously all have ensemble casts, with the Hargreeves in UA, the vampires (and Guillermo) in WWDITS and the pirates in OFMD. Even though the plots and characters can be quite different they all have similar vibes.

2. Noted for having open queer representation.

Klaus and Viktor in UA, pretty much the entire main cast of WWDITS, and multiple main characters in OFMD.

3. Tied to already established and respected creators.

UA is based on the comics written by Gerard Way who, of course, is also well known for My Chemical Romance. WWDITS is based on the film by Jermaine Clement and Taika Waititi, who are both executive producers of the show. Taika was also involved in OFMD as the actor for Blackbeard and as an executive producer. He has his name tied to many acclaimed films like Hunt for the Wilderpeople, Thor Ragnorok and Jojo Rabbit.

These are obviously not the only famous people tied to these projects but it’s just a sample of the talent involved in these shows. I feel like the fact that there was so much talent working on these shows makes my next point more interesting.

4. Experienced drops in quality and/ or introduced problematic elements that caused fans to lose interest or respect.

Again, this is opinion based and if you still liked the shows during these seasons then more power to you.

My overall feeling about all of these shows is that they lost a lot of the joy from their initial season(s) as they went on. Like, they just got significantly less fun to watch. But they also had more specific individual issues that I would like to get into.

I stopped watching UA during season 3 and don’t plan on watching season 4. I feel like a lot of people will already know what I might be referring to with this but yeah, the scene where Allison *did that* to Luther made me so sick. I feel like that season absolutely destroyed her character, and as I said, it just wasn’t anywhere near as fun as seasons 1 or 2.

WWDITS is probably the most successful of the three in my eyes but I could still apply the same argument about loss of enjoyment. The “Guillermo wants to be a vampire” plot line got very stale for me, especially with how they “resolved” (?) it. Saying “oh he’s a vampire now oh nevermind he doesn’t actually like being a vampire and also can’t be one anyway so everything’s back to normal” felt like such a waste of time for me. I know a lot of people also criticised the show for queerbaiting because of the Nandermo plot lines and teases. I wouldn’t necessarily call it queerbaiting but I would agree that the “will they, won’t they” is very played out at this point. Another big criticism I have of the later seasons is how Marwa was treated. The fact that she had no autonomy and was being forcibly changed mentally and physically to appeal to Nandor was treated as like, a running joke and I just found it kind of disturbing. Dark humour is pretty common throughout the show, but given how often her character appeared it felt a lot more, significant than throwaway jokes about drinking human blood. I feel like they could have done so much better with her character.

OFMD is probably the most egregious example of the 3. Season 2 was just not good. I’m not saying it was the worst thing I’ve ever watched but it was incredibly disappointing. The pacing was off, the characters were off, the dynamics were off. It was all just very off. The huge cliffhanger ending with Evil Blackbeard felt like it was resolved way too quickly and everything else in the season felt equally rushed. A lot of the character dynamics, but especially Ed and Stede, just felt wrong to me. From what I understand there were production issues or something so I’m not saying the writers just woke up one day and decided to be bad at their jobs but I can only really judge a show by what I saw on my screen, and what I saw was so far removed from the quality of season 1.

5. Finished on a sour note.

UA ended after 4 seasons, with the fourth being released on Netflix today. I haven’t seen anything that indicates whether this was the intended endpoint or whether it was cancelled. WWDITS will end after season 6 which comes out in October. Again, I can’t find anything indicating whether this was the intended endpoint. OFMD was cancelled just a few months after the release of season 2 in October 2023.

I can’t tell other fans how they should feel but for me I’m incredibly disappointed that 3 shows I really enjoyed saw a gradual (or not so gradual for OFMD) drop in quality that ultimately culminated in them just… ending.

Like I said, I have no interest in US season 4, but I am still somewhat hopeful for WWDITS. I would be really happy if they could bring it back to what it was.

Conclusion

I don’t know what the point of writing this was other than the fact that I’ve always associated these shows as having the same vibes and I feel like it’s interesting that they have a lot of similarities and went down similar paths. Also I just like yapping.

[unclewaynemunson]

Just to be clear: this post is entirely platonic. It’s about finding understanding through shared feelings of loss and guilt and the depth of platonic connections, so please don’t reblog with any romantic tags.

'Eddie, what's this?' Nancy asked when she walked into the hospital room to find Eddie upright in his bed, with a pile of paper on his nightstand and surrounded by origami boats.

'Hi, Wheeler,' he said with a smile that wasn't quite as broad as the one he would regularly flash at her in the school hallways before their Week From Hell.

He looked better than the last time she'd visited, though: he had more color on his cheeks and his hair had clearly been washed and brushed. Apart from the scratches on his arms and the stitches in his cheek, he almost looked normal.

'You ever heard of ghost ships?' he asked Nancy as she went to sit down in the plastic chair at his bedside.

'Ghost ships?' she repeated. She tried to remember a term like that from Mike's D&D games, but came up empty.

'They're like, versions of yourself that you'll never get to be,' Eddie explained, picking up one of the paper boats around him and holding it loosely in his hands. 'Like the version of me who'd graduate high school.' He picked up another of his creations. 'Or the version of me who could walk without a cane.'

'You might,' Nancy reminded him.

'See, that's the whole point of ghost ships, Nance,' Eddie said with a smile like he was making some kind of grand revelation. The sparkle still didn't quite reach his eyes, though. 'You hold onto them, because you can't let go. Until you finally set them free, send 'em out onto the ocean. Watch them disappear on the horizon.' He shoved one of the boats off his bed in a somewhat cat-like movement; Nancy followed the falling boat with her eyes until it gracefully landed on the linoleum.

She thought about her own ghost ships. There were plenty of them, as if she had unknowingly opened a whole ghost port back in 1983. The version of her that lived in the peaceful bliss of not knowing how to shoot a gun. The version of her that would grow old with Steve, or with Jonathan. The version of her that loved to dance. The version of her that cared about which grade she'd get on her chemistry test.

The version of her that had a best friend called Barb.

'What if you don't want to let them go?'

Eddie looked up from the boats surrounding him, into her eyes.

'Then they'll always keep haunting you.'

Nancy thought about that for a minute.

'Which one's haunting you most, right now?' she finally asked.

Eddie's fingers started roaming over his sheets, until he picked up one of his boats, cradling it in his hands like it was made of glass.

'The version of me that didn't kill Chrissy.' He said it so softly that Nancy almost couldn't hear him. His eyes, wide as always and suddenly glazed with tears, kept staring at the boat in his hands like he was expecting it to start talking back at him.

'The version of me that saw she was hurting and didn't – didn't use that to his advantage. The version of me who didn't sell her fucking drugs but actually tried to help her.' He took a deep, shaky breath. 'The version of me that didn't run away and left her when she started floating.'

This was probably the point where Nancy should remind him that what happened to Chrissy was in no way his fault; but she knew exactly how he felt. She knew exactly how empty those words would be.

'Did I ever tell you about my friend Barb?' she asked him instead.

Her heart ached at the mere mention of Barb's name; she had never talked about her with anyone, ever. Not really. Steve had tried to be there for her, that first year after it happened, by visiting Barb's parents with her and holding her when she woke from a nightmare; but talking about it wasn't something he had been able to give her. And neither had Jonathan, or even Mike, or anyone else who knew about... everything.

But Nancy now realized that Eddie might understand, more than anyone else.

He looked up from his paper boat, a questioning look in his eyes when his gaze found hers.

'I mean, I know what happened to her...' he said, hesitant.

Almost subconsciously, Nancy reached out to one of the boats on Eddie's bed and took it in her own hands.

'She died because of me.'

It was the first time she said those words out loud – or the first time since that one awful party that she couldn't even remember.

'She died because I didn't care enough about how miserable she was feeling. She died because I wasn't there for her.' She tried to swallow the lump in her throat away. 'Vecna, he – he showed me what happened, you know. How she screamed my name, and how I didn't hear her. How I wasn't there.'

She blinked, her eyes focused on the boat in her hands.

'I don't think I can ever let go of that.'

'Do you blame Steve, too?' Eddie asked, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. 'He was there with you, wasn't he?'

Nancy hesitated. 'I used to,' she finally admitted. 'But I don't anymore.'

Eddie nodded.

'So you can also forgive yourself,' he pointed out. 'Sure, it might take a bit longer. You can keep that ship docked in your port for a while. But that doesn't mean it has to stay there forever.'

And somehow, that was a comforting thought. Maybe being the owner of a haunted ship wasn't all bad. Maybe the fact that it would be staying for a while meant nothing less than that she had loved someone deeply.

'So do you have any ghost ships you want to hold onto?' Nancy asked Eddie.

He stayed silent for a while, looking pensive.

'I think I’m not quite ready to give up on Eddie the high school graduate,' he finally said.

'Yeah?'

'Yeah.' He nodded, looking increasingly more certain of his words. '87, baby. 'S gonna be my year.' He paused, the fake smile dropping from his face just as sudden as it had appeared.

'And I wanna hold onto Chrissy. Can't change a thing about that one anymore; but I'm not ready to let go just yet.'

Nancy nodded. 'That makes sense,' she said. 'Maybe you can anchor it next to Barb's one. They might like the company.'

[marty-parties]

Happy September 15th! Which, if you didn't know, is 'leave a comment day.' I could be wrong though, since my source is a poll i took on my other blog - either way, i've come up with a fun idea.

In honour of ‘leave a comment day’ i’ve made a list of all of my favourite fanfics/authors that I can think of atm, and I wanna leave a nice little note about them and their work! This isn’t in any particular order, tbh it’s mostly me going through my AO3 bookmarks and re-reading all of my fav fanfic, haha. 

I honestly had no idea 'leave a comment day’ was a thing, and if you didn’t either, show your favourite authors that you appreciate them! Anything from a heart emoji, or a key smash, or an insightful/heartfelt comment will do wonders in terms of showing/being appreciated.

A lot of these fics below have influenced me in some way, big or small, into how/what I write today. I guess I wanted to give thanks where I could. (It’s also just really sick to make a doc full of your favourite things,and I highly implore you to do it too, even if you don’t wanna post it. (That's totally fair, no pressure.) I keep going over in my mind what I like about each fic and ‘oh, this fic is different from that, but it’s still fantastic, oh and this fic, too,’ etc. it’s such a fun little snowball effect of positivity, i definitely recommend you do this if you have time and need a pick me up, haha.)

Little note, here, If you’ve seen that I’ve read your fic, but found you’re not on the list - it’s not that I don’t like you/or work! I probably very well did enjoy it! I found as I was making this list it was taking a lot of my free time. (Free time that i’d rather like to use writing or reading more, haha.) And, I feel like this list is already so wickedly long ‘cause I can't shut my mouth to save my life, to add more might be a little bit much to read all in one go. 😅

So, please don’t be upset if that’s the case! ily *mwah* 

Also, there’s a few nsfw fics mention at the end, so if you’re a minor, pls buzz off,  that content isn’t for you! I also recommend you check the links on some of these fics. I think I’ve included warnings where I think they’re due, but you know yourself better than i do. And, who knows, I might’ve accidentally missed a tag or two - So, please take care of yourself out there! 

You’ll notice i’ve either included a source for either the authors tumbr, or AO3. I originally was going to try and do both, but i lost steam. Each story is linked to their author, on some site, promise. 

Last thing, most of these fics are in the undertale fandom, tbh. It’s been my ride or die since highschool, so i’ve got a lot of love and things to say. You won’t find any frans or foncest here, i’m a reader insert girlie, simply put, and I don't care much for those tags on the fics i read. 

Quick legend here:

Complete = complete work

Ongoing = still updating / i think they’re still update

Incomplete = either hiatus, or just incomplete

So, without further ado- 

 Road Side Attraction (Ongoing, teen+ rating) and Dirty Laundry (Complete, teen+ rating)

By Popatochisp  (AO3) / popattochisp (Tumbr)

I’m going to be grouping together fics by author. Usually when I find one I really like, i really lurk around their tumblr/AO3 for others, haha.

–AND because I can’t think of one fic without the other. I find myself going back to read them both quite frequently, usually on rotation,  they’re my little bedtime stories i keep on repeat in my mind, lol. 

I mean, if you’re in the undertale fandom how can you not know about pop? For me, them (and luluwrites, among a few others i can’t remember rn,) –were really impactful to me growing up, as I think it was to a lot of people. (Tbh they’re still impactful, actually. I find myself going back even pretty often to read the same fics I read in high school.) They’re like the one piece of media you read in English class in high school that sticks with you throughout your adult life. (Looking at you, monkey’s paw.)

Pop has like 1,000 different au’s to choose from, all with fantastic and deep characterizations and lore.( I don’t know how they do it, i’m only writing a/b ONE skeleton rn, and i feel like a hamster on a wheel trying to get his characterization right.  I couldn’t imagine doing that for every single au they have. God damn.) 

I especially love Roadside Attraction, because of how easily i can relate to it? I’m deep in the sticks, a town more populated by livestock and people. When I read this, I can really put myself i MC’s shoes - b/c i’ve been there! (Hah, maybe not the dating skeletons part, granted, lol.) But it’s such a fantastic read, I love any and all media that has a vibe that it could take place in like a   rural Montana. (think scenes in Twilight. Tall spruce/pine trees, misty morning, the possibility of seeing bigfoot, that sorta thing.) 

And Dirty Laundry? Come on, dude. What a love letter to the swapfell universe, truly. If you haven't read it, you gotta. The world building, and the changing POV’s are so damn good, that every chapter feels crisp, and like you’ve got a really good inside scoop of each character. You can’t knock the characterization in this one, fellas. All the dynamics are so dead on - how Sans and Papyrus interact, how Sans and Alphys – dude, even how Sans and Toriel interact read so deeply in character. Everyone’s motives and ideas make sense to each character and the conflict that it  brings. Big fan. 10/10, will definitely read again and again. (There’s also a ‘Menswear addition, where the reader has he/him pronouns if that’s your cup of tea!) 

Bones Picked Clean (Incomplete, teen+ rating) and) Apéritifs (Ongoing, Mature rating)

By Skelezbian (tumblr) / luluwrites (on AO3)

Woof, where do I start?? I think Bones Picked Clean is another one of the first fics I remember being a really impactful piece of undertale fanwork that stuck with me. I know they’re not the one who created the whole ‘lodge’ scenario, (if you know, you know. Thank you @Tyrant_Tortoise, we’ll be seeing you next,) but they put a spin on it that is so interesting to see. The problems feel very realistic, like something that can easily happen in a house full of busy bodies with not enough communication. And, ohmygod the MC. My first love, truly. You get to see each set of skeleton brother’s, and watch how MC’s befriends them all. Granted, they have a track record of putting themselves in dangerous situations, for reasons revealed in the fic, but they’ve got a heart of gold, and a PHD in being a sweetheart.

The horrortale boys really shine here. I haven’t read much horrortale centric fanfics, but I really like the soft horrorale’ spin. The healing after the damage, the sunshine after the storm, watching the fauna overgrow, etc. I love watching characters grow when love is shown, and here, you can really see it here. I love domesticity, and using food as a love language– which is something this fic has in spades!

(I also love love swapfell characterization in this fic, chapter 13 does a REALLY good job of walking you through the mindspace of sf pap. But in terms of favourties, i’d have to say that would be Chapter 18. You get to see sf pap’s relationship with his brother!  You really see/understand their dynamic, and how they really act as brothers behind closed doors. The other reason it’s a favourite is the inherit domesticity! Maybe I’m a sucker for the normie, slice of life, but how MC and sans chit chat at the start of the chapter is so cute! )

Warning: mention of past cannibalism, past murder, past abuse? I think that’s it, maybe check the tags to be sure. They sound scary, but I promise it’s a very sweet story. 

Ohh, Apéritifs. First of all, what a clever name! I’m a sucker for word play, and this title alone really did it for me, haha. (if you don’t get it, please google ‘define Apéritifs’, and you’ll be just as jazzed as me.)  They’re three stand alone one-shots featuring a  different skeleton each chapter. I will say, I think chapter 3 is my fav. It’s actually heavily inspired me to make one of my one shots - it’s that good! I love the world building in it, as well. Really, you can’t go wrong. (Lulu really knows how to nail flirty dialogue, in very funny ways. ‘“so, you a fan of spare ribs, or just mine?”’ (ch. 3 – Apéritifs) KILLS ME, oh my god, what a funny flirty little one-liner. 

Skeleton Squatters and The LandLady (Incomplete, teen+ rating)

By Tyrant_Tortoise (AO3) tyranttortoise (Tumblr)

Man– SSLL walked so we all could run. The amount of ‘lodge’ type fanfic dynamic i’ve seen, BECAUSE of this fic is wild. I might be wrong in saying this, but I think they were the one who came up with the whole ‘lodge’ type scenario, like all the reverse harems with all the au’s. 

I haven’t read anything of theirs in a long time, but I wanna pay my respects where respects are due. Tyrant made one hell of an influential fanfic, enough so, that I’m pretty sure if I had a timeline of fandom evolution on undertale alone– I think there would be a noticeable difference in the before and after SSLL.  Which, is so sick!! To have influenced a whole fandom with a concept that we’re still seeing it years later? (I get that trends sorta tend to last longer in fandoms than they do irl, but isn’t that such a neat thing to think about?) 

I’m going to age myself (and maybe you, reading this a bit, but–) the first chapter was posted in 2017. 2017! Isn’t that nuts to think about? I was literally 17 at the time. No WONDER it stuck with me, my teenage brain was looking for all the  serotonin it could get from fandoms.  (wow. Things haven't changed all that much for me, haha. 

Skeleton Ex Machina (Incomplete, teen+ rating)

By Cryptid_jack (AO3)

Ohh, okay, for all the SSLL fans out there, you probably already know who cryptid_jack is. And if not, I'll gladly tell you!

They’ve made this cool ass AI AU (it’s a LOT cooler than it sounds, I promise!) in their words, ‘a fanfic of a fanfic’ that’s actually in Skeleton Squatters and The LandLady (see above.) I’d recommend reading SSLL to fully understand this - although, if you’re good at picking up context clues, or maybe don’t mind missing some context, I don’t necessarily think you’d have to, since jack does a really good job of showing the reader everything that’s going on. (although, i really  recommend you do.)

I think this au is so cool, it’s literally tagged as ‘Quarantine Sans’ (which, i’ll be the first to say, that maybe that name didn’t hold up too well, with recent 2020 events, an’ all that. Pandemic aside, it’s a cool name for an AU!) 

It’s also really fun to see two friends in the fandom interact with each other's works like this. Even reading the note at the start of the fic, you can just feel the camaraderie and care that went into paying each other's proper respects. 

Big big ups, hats off to proper manners and friendship!

All’s Fair In Love and (Prank) War (Incomplete, teen+ rating)

By torrikor (AO3)

Ohh, this is a short and sweet 2 chapter read. I don’t the author is going to circle back to it, but i suggest you read it anyways! the idea is so so good! In essence, MC and sf sans are roommates, and MC starts a prank war. I love love love their dynamic, their bickering is a real treat to read, that, coupled with their size difference? Sign me up!

My Favorite Thing (Complete, teen+ rating) and A Conversation Starter ( Complete, teen+ rating) 

By peachwhimzy (AO3) peachwhimzy-things (Tumblr)

I’m a slut for their characterization of sf pap here, oh my god. Both are so so good, and i know  i must sound like a broken record by saying I love how this author interpreted his character - but i can’t help it! So many people have good ideas and ways to showcase a character! Sue me.  

A Conversation Starter is another one that’s inspired me to write a little one-shot. It’s so fantastically written, sf Papyrus and MC are at a bus station, both the first human and monster either have met. The world building is subtle, but wonderfully done. MC is so damn cute in this, and so is Papyrus, who’s really just trying to keep the conversation going, lol. There’s a delightful slice of life aspect to this. 

Honestly, a lot of of Peach’s work feel very domestic, and sweet, and romantic. Sorta like i’m reading a studio Ghibli movie. Do yourself a favour and go check em out!

Late Night Shift Romance (Complete, teen+ rating)

By Inumaru12 (AO3)

The one fic on here that’s not a romance,how about that. (I guess that’s not technically true. There's possibly something budding, if you squint. I always read it as platonic friendship- it’s fanfic! Read it with whatever context you’d like!)

Burgerpants and MC are at the same convenient store late at night, and there’s a robbery. Friendship ensues. I love seeing the background character of undertale, and honestly, who doesn't relate to Burgerpants? Perpetually working shitty minimum wage jobs, trying to chase his dreams - that’s rough. I appreciate a character who can give a nod to class solidarity.. I think Inmuaru12 did so well writing his character, it feels like he was plucked out of the game himself, haha. 

My Dearly Detested Delivery Man, (Complete, teen+ rating) and Black Coffee (Complete, general audiences rating) 

By Little_old_lady (AO3)

Lol yet another set of swap fics, haha. (Yet another great example of different interpretations of the swapfell au!)

My Dearly Detested Delivery man is so  fun, I love an ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ type of fic. I love the dialogue, it’s so funny! Like almost sitcom-esk with how good the one liners are. I think my favourite thing about writing fanfic is the dialogue- but reading what other authors have cooked up is such a treat, too. I love seeing authors with a certain brand of wit/cleverness they think the character would have, and seeing their own comedy bleed through, too sometimes. Little_old_lady does a good job showing the reader what you can gleam from the characters with how they talk to each other, in a way that sets the tone for their relationship. (whether it’s platonic, romantic, etc.)  There’s so many ways you can show friendship, but I think the “passion” (lmao I don’t know what else to call it!)  that’s at the heart of any argument is what can create the difference between friends arguing, vs two people who could be more. (Better put, I think what I like about two characters arguing is the sorta obvious chemistry it can create.) 

Black Coffee does a good job about that too! I’ll be the first and last to say that I love any characters whose love language is ‘argue’ (lol even though irl I wouldn’t last long in any relationship like that, haha. ) I can be hit or miss with a soulmate au, but there’s another layer that I think undertale adds another level to in a soulmate au-since the game established that monsters and magic are real— that it almost feels a little more plausible of an au, than say, a soulmate AU of parks and rec? (no hate on the au or parks and rec, haha. I guess it just feels more “realistic” being that undertale is already a world made of magic, that magical soulmates, is one more step into weird that also makes sense?) I also love the bro-ship mc has with pap, in this one. Coming from someone who’s constantly worked retail/with customers one-on-one, somedays you want to go ape shit, so it’s nice to see an MC who can.

Half Your Age Plus Seven (Complete, teen+ rating) 

By KassyKins

Ohhh, what a little treat this was to read. Tragedy! Romance! Love-rivalry! (NOT a love triangle!) People just Trying to do their best, they’ve got it all! This is another MC i’m in love with. They know what they love, and what they’re passionate about, but when push comes to shove, they’ll choose their family over themselves every single time. I think it’s a very admirable trait to have, integrity, and the ability to self-sacrifice.  I think those two tropes/characteristics can really lead a story in so many interesting directions - weather it be an MC who’s too self-sacrificing, giving parts of themselves to everyone, leaving nothing for themselves, or an MC who’s pushing themselves through the ringer trying to do what they think is right according to their integrity, burning them up in the process.  In this particular case, it’s maybe a little bit of both, coupled with (sad) a slice of life meet cute, with a healthy dose of growing pains. 

There’s something about it that always hits extra hard to me, the ‘thrust into the lime light, or power, or a position they have no business being in. But, they’ve got people on the line, their people to take care of, so by god they’ll try.’ There’s something so tragic and poetic about it – but who knows, maybe I'm waxing poetic about the eldest daughter trope. 

This fic really nicely written, and there’s so many fun hijinks and shenanigans in there to make you chuckle. Featuring another MC who’s able to shout at their boss and get away with it- big ups from me, lets goooooo working class!

Fair warning, this is a notable age gap from MC and swapfell gold sans. It is talked about in the story as well. I personally don’t mind it too much, but if that’s a no-go from you, you’ve been warned. (Maybe just check the tags on this one, (spoilers!) I know someone gets pregnant later. But, I know that can freak some folks out, so, heads up.) 

There’s some smut mentioned, but it doesn’t go into detail about it, so i’ll leave it above the NSFW section. Just fair warning! (Maybe not a story for minors? I don’t know, read at your own discretion if you are?) 

For the smut mention, be warned that I couldn’t find any age in their bio, do with that what you will. 

And Now It’s Crystal Clear(Complete, teen+ rating)

By nighttimelights (AO3)

Oh, man. What another banger read. 

Fun fact- i read this in . . . highschool? But i forgot the name of the fic,and it took me FOREVER, im talking YEARS before I found it again. I actually gave up the hunt, and just found it again one day– what an utter joy that was for me to rediscover it. I felt like I ran into my highschool sweetheart at the grocery store after not thinking about them in years. 

It’s really cool concept on the whole ‘machine gaster’ situation. I respect someone so damn much who incorporates a bit of sci-sfi in their fics, I have no idea how to write it, but I love to read it/see it in media. So to see it, and understand it, and how it’s relevant to the plot is a real treat!

I also love the ending.  :)

Wish Bone (Ongoing, Explicit rating)

By timeofjuly

I could not, in good conscience make this list without including my bestie, the OG and probably the reason why I'm actually posting what I'm writing today. I really can’t sing their praises high enough – but for the sake of comment day, I sure can try, haha.

July really does a good job of creating a wicked atmosphere in her works. The stark difference between Wish Bone (a political romance drama) and Resisting the Currents (reverse harem, but the gf likes you too. It's linked in the nsfw section, please check it out if you can.) is so incredible – they’re really an author that can do both, haha. Even though both fics are so different, what they have in common is their ability to get you right in your feelings, in whichever way the story calls for. 

In Wishbone  – Flint (the MC) has a bad case of being a massive asshole, that’s verging on becoming chronic. Their paranoia has caused their head to permanently be a swivel, and they’ve developed a taste for their own brand of Justice (however malicious as it is.)  That sounds like the start of a vigilante story, but in all truth, Flint is a dick. Which, is another thing July is great at! Writing MC’s who are assholes! You love to hate them, you hate that you love them! 

This is a MC x sf Pap, and later X sf Sans as well, If you’re hoping for a sappy romance, you’ve come to the wrong place. This is a reluctant soulmate AU fic, a fantastic spin on the traditionally very romantic au, a meet ugly, sort of vibe. If you love arguing, political drama, fantastic world building, and a very, sad, broken MC – you’re going to love this. Hell, even if how I described it doesn’t sound appealing to you – I implore you to check it out anyways. July will absolutely knock you on your ass with her writing. By god, there’s themes, motifs and symbolism that I'm not smart enough to analyse, let alone talk about. Whether July intentionally put them there or not, I have no idea, but they’re there and it adds another layer of depth in a delightfully, painful soul crushing way. 

Go, see what I mean for yourself! 

Tbh, i feel like I could go on forever about what I love about their fics, and my little personal theories on them – but I feel like I already look pretty unhinged. For the sake of my ego, i’ve gotta move on. 

In terms of warnings, I think I sorta covered them? There's Plenty of anger, and hatred, ummm monster phobia? There might be some sorta nsfw stuff down the line, thus the rating, but as it stands now it’s smut free! Just a heads up, I suppose. 

 In Two weeks time and Red is my favorite color

By who_wants_a_muffin (AO3) 

My other current ongoing fav, in two weeks time! Another swapfell sans one, to the surprise of absolute of no one, haha. 

This MC is a dude! A man! Which is a refreshing change up, I don’t think there’s many many fics out there with a male leaning/male dominant MC’s. The characterization of MC is very good, 

is so so good, it’s and X sf sans, and he’s got the exact right amount of snark and sass to keep you coming back, haha. (Or, I guess in this case, he keeps coming back. MC works at the pool he frequents.) Their banter is really fun to read, bordering on bickering, really. They’re almost like a little old married couple, haha. Which is to say, you can really feel the chemistry they have even though they’re basically strangers. 

sf Papyrus is such a little shit in this one, i love it. He’s perpetually the youngest brother, and how Muffin writes him is so snarky and funny, and very endearing. 

The chapters are short and sweet, enough so that you can read it a few times in the same day and still enjoy it, even though his updating schedule is crazy fast! I don’t know how he does it, but they’re just motoring along, haha. I get excited whenever I get an email saying Muffin updated. It’s like a little treat to brighten your week.

I’ve been reading a bit of his other stuff, and he just gets it! Like the dynamic between MC and fell sans in Red in my favorite color, is just perfect. I love the soft!underfell au, and he does a really good job of capturing how underfell sans straddles the line between being a bad boy, and a boy that's not all that bad.

I also love the notes he writes, ‘Hello gays and other assorted sillies!’ (from Chapter 2 in Red in my favorite color,) Like COME ON, that’s so funny! 

– Undertale related 

Bonley Hearts Club (Demo available, Ongoing, teen+ rating) 

Bonely Hearts Club (tumblr) 

owl-bones (tumblr) is the Developer and Director and (self proclaimed! I’m not being mean!) Lead Nerd.  Here is a link to their cast, although it might not be fully updated. (It’s  \a big one, so I'm going to leave it as a link.) 

I don’t even know how to begin to explain my love for Bonely Hearts Club. It’s a fanmade game, made entirely of love, which you can tell, even before you play it. The sprites are so cute, and fantastic, and the writing is so in character and on point, do not get me started on the voice acting - which is also incredible. I’m not kidding, when I first played the demo, I immediately followed the voice actors on tumblr after, haha. 

This is the kinda piece of art that you just stand back and look at it, and just go ‘wow’. It’s such a big undertaking! I know very little about game development, but from what i vault remember from my comp sci class - is that is’s hard. Mad respect from me to Owl, and everyone a part of the team/process. 

This is off topic, but I wonder if Toby Fox has read any of these fics, or played the demo of this dating sim, like in the same way Alex Hursh has played a bit of Swooning Over Stans: A Grunkle Dating Sim. I’d pay serious money to have Toby play the dating sim demo. God, could you imagine the energy in that livestream? It would be goddamn electric.

[ Soul Redacted ] (Completed, teen rating) and The Great Noodle Jape (Completed, teen rating) 

By nighttimepixels (game jolt) nighttimepixels (tumblr) 

// active twitter lethalhoopla  

//active tumblr lethalhoopla

Good god, talk about a . . .what, triple, quadruple threat? There’s nothing nighttimepixels can’t do. They write, they make art, they’ve made two complete games, (and the beginning of another,) and they animate!! Like oh my god! Another love letter to the fandom, everything they do is so so good. 

[Soul Redacted] is a very cool rpg sidescroller explorer/mystery, and i’d say a touche of sci-fi in there, too. It has fantastic writing, and features Q! (from Cryptid_jack au, in Skeleton Squatters and The LandLady fromTyrant_Tortoise  fic! see above for all!) Truth be told, I got a little scared playing this. Granted, I played it at like 2 am in the dark - and I am a coward lol. I don’t think the average person will get scared, but fair warning anyways, haha. 

They’re not into the undertale fandom anymore, I don't think. Which is sad to hear, but also understandable. It’s not fun making art and other creations if you’ve lost that spark there. However, if you’re a mass effect fan, they’re making a bunch of art on their other bog. I personally really love their art style, so i’ll gladly keep checking back. Also, there’s so much undertale content on their blog that you’ll be good for a long while. And if not, you can always go back and look again! If you can’t experience it for the first time, the next best thing is to experience it again. 

Warning: I think there’s some flashing lights at some point? Maybe double check the tags on that one if that’s a concern for you. 

The Great Noodle Jape is so damn cute. As night put it, ‘a visnov style silly whodunit’, which I think it captures it perfectly. The writing is so fun, all the characters feel very well written/in character, and i love how they all interact with each other. As well, the sprites are so fantastic! Night has that kind of art style where you just know it's theirs without needing to confirm. 

No warnings that I could think of, other than you’ll be wishing for the experience of playing it for the first time once you’re done.

– non-Undertale related fics - 

Cult of the Lamb—

The Rehabilitation of Death 

By bamsara (AO3) / bamsara (Tumblr)

WOOF. I am an ‘happy ending angst’ lover, and a ‘energies to lovers slow burn,’ and this fic takes the cake on both regards. Truly, who could pine better than a god, who’s named literally ‘The One Who Waits’? What an aptly named character for one of the major troupes in the fic, haha.

But for all you freaks out there (lol me) who don’t mind horror some of the time, I recommend reading it! Even if you’re not into CoTL, the pining is so goddamn good! (Considering it’s about gods, they’ve been pining for hundreds of years without even knowing it–  the slowest of burns, like oh my GOD.) Bam also is known to post longer chapters- so if you like a read that lasts a couple days, PLEASE do yourself a favour and check it out. I don’t wanna spoil anything, but they’re getting to the part where the main couple is starting to be nice to each other, plus, the subplot B couple is starting to sorta shack up too. There are so many good, funny dynamics that are in this fic, that I don’t have enough words to properly explain them. 

They also make fantastic artwork and sketches for just about each scene in their fics - which for all you visual girlies out there (myself, haha.) I think you’d appreciate it! I wish I was that type of triple threat, but I think i’d burn out too quickly if I was also drawing scenes of my fics – which is why I think it’s so impressive when other authors/artists do it! 

 They do art streams pretty frequently, too, and they make stickers too! A true triple threat, 

Just, fair warning-  like Cult of the Lamb (the game the fic is based off,)  this fic mentions a lot about gore, and death, and mention of cults and religion. So if any of that is a turn off, or something you don’t like to read about, this might not be your cup of tea. 

Non-fanfic Undertale fandom related material– 

FNAF—

Solar Lunacy (Incomplete, Mature)

By BamSara

(I kept these two separate on the account they’re different fandoms, lol) 

I was very briefly into the FNAF fandom, I only read a handful of fics— but Solar Lunacy really stuck with me!

Robots with trauma! An overly curious MC! I think what I like most about this, is how driven mc is? Usually it gets them into trouble, haha, but I love that troupe where the MC really puts themselves through the wringer looking for answers. (I.e like ford and bill from gravity falls.)  

What’s not to love? For all you robot fans out there, it’s pretty sick! I’m sure if you dig deep enough on Bam’s tumblr you’ll find all their old DCA fanart, and draw parts from this fic. 

Fair warning! Scary robots, the regular tags of the fnaf fandom (past child abuse/past child murder), robots don’t understand boundaries, maybe check the tags on this one, just in case. 

Sleuth Jesters (Series!) (Complete, teen+ and mature ratings, depending on which fic in the series you’re reading.)

By naffeclipse (AO3)

This was the other FNAF fanfic that really stuck with me when I had the robot bug. (lol)  I’ll be the first one to admit that I’m not overly into the whole ‘mafia boss’ side of self-ships, but if I had to choose one to read for the rest of time –  it would definitely be this one. It’s like a detective noir, where mc is the vigilante who’s only law they follow is their grey moral code - but usually it’s for the good! So you can’t really feel to bad about that, haha. 

Tbh it’s almost hard to verbalise what I like about it, it’s one of those fics that give you a feeling you can’t name, and it’s so frustrating to have this unnamed feeling you can’t quite pinpoint! (PLEASE tell me some of ya’ll know what i’m talking about!)

I feel so tragically for the MC, if that makes sense? They’re constantly putting themselves in harm's way for answers, and for others.  They’re selfless, yet selfish, and they never let anyone too close, except for when they do. There’s some heavy themes and very toxic relationships, but there’s a happy ending! 

Ahh warning for a very possessive, toxic robot, and kidnapping in later fics - i suggest you read the tags just in case! Bam is really good at tagging triggers accordingly, 

Fair warning: blood and injury, very possessive character, toxic relationships (one sided), mention of injury, violence, kidnapping, guns, gunshot  wounds, shootouts, broken bone- probably some more. I recommend checking the tags on this one as well, just to be on the safe side. 

NSFW Below – Minors get out of here pls!

A quick mention, before I get into this–

I tried to check and make sure all the authors below are all well over 18, i’ve indicated which link has their age posted in their bio’s if you’d like to check for yourself. If I couldn’t find it, I made sure to be clear that I don't know. 

Just doing some light housekeeping, here. You should also check the tags on each fic for what kinda . . . stuff it has, lol. 

Play With Me (Incomplete, explicit rating) 

By grimrester (AO3) / grimrester  (tumblr/ age in bio here.) 

Oh my god. Oh my god! For all you queers on the ace/aromatic spectrum just like me, this is the fic for you!

I could easily go back and read this again and again - tbh I already do. It’s plot with porn, and then it turns into porn with plot, but emotional!  love the relationship between MC and Sans. There's something about their intimacy that’s so casual (maybe not the right word for what I mean,) but vulnerable, and realistic, but very enthusiastic and personal? I don’t think I even have the right words to properly and fully describe what all I like about this fic, but what I do know is that I like it a lot, haha. 

I like that it shows sex and intimacy in a different way. I know it’s pretty common for undertale smut to have some kind of ecto junk involved - this one doesn’t. I personally, like the creativity involved in thinking different ways a person can get off that isn’t just penetration. (Don’t get me wrong, that’s in here too, but that comes a little bit later.) 

I’m also s Big Fan of the sf sans interpretation here. It’s like a soft swapfell, one of my favourite version of him. I said it already, but there’s so many ways a person can go with his character, and I really really like the worldbuilding. It’s a nice subtle nod told through the characters. I love his relationship he has with Alphys, it all feels so incredibly in line with the character, even though he’s a swapfell version, he still does have some sort of friendship with her – even if to him it’s under a guise. To me, it’s one of those things that you can see the core traits that make him a sans, and that’s a hard needle to thread! Just an all around great character study. 

ALSO, I think I have a particular penchant for MC’s with oddly specific niche jobs?? In my heart of hearts, Pixy’s (the name of the arcade MC owns in Play with Me) is like right next door to Faunas (the name of the pot store my MC owns in Into The Weeds.) 

Warnings: i’m pretty sure this one is tagged accordingly on AO3, so i’m not going to tag it all here, just know there’s smut. 

Something Good (Ongoing, Mature) 

By skeletonlvr22 (AO3)

WARNING: No age in bio that I could find. This fic isn’t at the smut yet - but becuase of the 'eventual smut' tag, and for the sake of transparency, i’m letting you know. (I’m like 90% sure this person is an adult though, since there’s a tag thanking their husband for their help.) Do what you will with this info, you’ve been warned. 

This is another one of my current reading obsessions lately! 

I think i’m realizing I have a particular penchant for some of the lesser known au’s? (niche, I suppose?) Fellswap Gold Pap sets out on his own in only his trusty bus, to explore the surface above, away from the (over-) protective eyes of his brother. 

This is the escape fantasy of my dreams. A stray skeleton on the adventure of his lifetime, seeing the sights and the city lights. The romance portion in the later chapters is so damn cute too, it’s very much the ‘first love’, type of romance that’s very sweet and charming. (also, c’mon, who doesn't love a coming of age story?) Love love seeing a Fellswap Gold fic, and a Papyrus based one, too! People are so damn creative, I never would've ever thought of this plot for a fic, but now that I know it’s real, I love it!I I’m really not kidding when I say it’s prime escape fantasy material -  I think it would be the cats ass to have a van and travel across north america, thanks skeletonlv22 for letting me vicariously live through Pap in your fic. :) 

Warning: Only the ones i’ve given at the top! It’s a very cute story. I put it in the NSFW section b/c of the eventual smut, there’s none in it now – although, they certainly are starting to get flirty. 

Resisting the Currents (Ongoing, Explicit) 

By timeofjuly (AO3) timeofjuly (Tumblr) 

WARNING: No age in bio that I could find, but I’ve been chit-chatting with July for months now and i’m 99.99% sure they’re well above 18. It’s not my info to give out, and i’m trying to be transparent on my end, do with this info what you will! 

Edit: age confirmed in the tags!

This is easily another fav of mine for sure. 

Resisting the Currents is a reverse harem fic (with all the au’s!) but with a twist - the gf likes you too! It’s a refreshing take on the ‘reverse harem’ tag you see often in the undertale fandom - and holy shit, truly ‘only love can hurt like this.’ The relationship they have with the MC is so painful, verging on devastating. There’s love there! There is! But there’s also hurt, and a lot of it, the kind that doesn’t just go away, not on its own, anyway. I’m trying not to spoil too much, because I truly think you should read it for yourself. 

But, Oh My God, their MC? Holyshit- I have a(n aforementioned) weakness for impressionable MC’s, oftentimes, I end up loving them more than the love interest in the fics.  I can’t help it! The electrician is personable, relatable, and funny! They’re a lovable goofball with a rough past, with a history of doing the wrong things.They're recovering/recovered? (I’m not too sure which is the correct term, here,) drug addict, and they’ve come a long way! They’ve changed a lot, and I love love love to see that kind of realism in an MC. 

If you’re reading RtC (which you should be,) you can 100% see me going apeshit in the comments trying to figure out what the elections and Quinn’s deal is. (ESPECIALLY chapter 11!

(Sorry if they’re not coherent, at one point, those theories made sense in my head, but looking back on them, I think they’re more so like the crazed ramblings of a conspiracy theorist, haha.) 

This fic is in the NSFW section b/c it does have a chapter where two characters get it on, but i can’t say that’s what the whole story is about. I put it down here to be safe rather than sorry, haha. 

Ahh, fair warning, there is past drug mention, and past abuse child abuse I think? Plus, a bit of mention of religion and the negative effects that can have on a person. Read the tags just to be safe!

Shark Teeth (Complete, Mature rating)

By luluwrites (AO3) skelezbian (Tumblr)

Warning: No age in bio that I could find. If it makes you feel any better, they joined AO3 in 2012, while I joined in 2016 and i’m 24 currently. I’m not good at math, but I think we’re all in the clear here. But like always, do with this info what you will! 

I will say, this isn’t full on smut - it’s saucy, but I’m trying to keep anything suggestive, kinda together? 

Not to divulge myself too furiously here, but uh–There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about Shark teeth. C’mon. Y'all get it, right? It’s just a funny, saucy little number! A funny moment that happens between couples that we get to see. There’s so many different interpretations on the fellswaps, (I know i’ve said it a lot,) but Lulu’s just happens to be one of my favourites interpretations!! Sf Sans is a very precarious character, and I think Lulu does a good job showing that the swaps can be written in a multitude of ways, he doesn’t just have to be the dickhead all the time, lmao. They really do a good job showing how he shines, y’know?

Warning: teeth and/or biting? Not full on smut, or anything, but it is saucy. So, take that into consideration. 

The Fulfilling Ordeal of Being Known (Complete, explicit) 

By nighttimepixels (tumblr) / // active on twitter lethalhoopla (age mention in bio here) 

Ohhh, for all my sapphics out there – you’re going to love this. 

Blade (fem  horrortale sans, who’s apart of her ‘Lillytale’ au, a sapphic take on all the au’s,) and MC settling down for a nice night in, MC playing breath of the wild (BIG UPPS, great game, lol) while Blade plays some games of their own - hopefully you get the picture. 

Just some great lady-lovin’ smut! Size difference! If you love the pillow princess treatment, this is the fic for you.

Warnings: (Lesbians? Queers?) really going to town on each other, def NSFW. Check the tags before reading, it’s nothing Dead Dove, or anything - just want you to be aware. 

mothiepixie (tumblr / age in bio here)

mothiepixie (twitter, age in bio here too) 

No fic to tag, but their art? AHHHHH. They’re more active on twitter than tumblr since The Ban, but ohhh their art is very, very good. Very great if you like fictional hunky men, and beautiful shapely ladies. 

Warnings: tasteful (shameless) smut, you’ve been warned, lol

Woof. That was a lot of typing. If you made it this far, circle back to one of the recommendations above and get to reading!