#mr wright raised me‚ even if it took me this long to play his games

[australianklaviergavin]

I think the best part about growing up with Ace Attorney so omnipresent in my life without actually playing it has got to be the weird parasocial relationship I have with all the characters. Phoenix Wright is literally like... My uncle. Like, yeah, that's Mr. Wright, he comes over for the holidays sometimes... ???

[voids-colourful-creations]

What It Means - Ace Attorney Fic

Rating: T Category: Gen Pairings: Nothing romantic, but focusing on the family relationship between Trucy and Phoenix Word Count: 2k Warnings: discussions of abandonment

Trucy explains to Apollo and Athena what it really means to her to have Phoenix as her daddy.

 She looked out the window, her eyes tracing the cars below, reflected in the glass. “Athena,” Trucy said, voice just slightly off, still refusing to look either of them in the eye. “Did Daddy ever tell you the story of how I got adopted?”

Read on Ao3

It was a quiet day at the Wright Anything Agency, most were, and Phoenix had stepped out to grab some case file or another. It was in that little time frame, a short break while he was gone, that Apollo got around to asking a question that had been on his mind for a while.

He sat on the couch that faced Phoenix’s desk, opposite Athena and Trucy on the other. Athena sat on the right, and while she insisted she was doing work, Apollo could clearly see her playing some idle game or another on her holographic screens. He wondered how she ever thought she was hiding it when the screens were translucent.

Trucy sat on the other side of the couch, legs dangling over the couch’s arms as she shuffled up a pack of playing cards she was rehearsing some new trick with. He wasn’t quite sure of the details, but as long as it didn’t risk him losing a limb, he figured it probably wasn’t important. Trucy would probably ask him to watch the trick’s successful execution within the next few days or so anyway.

“Hey Trucy…” Apollo said, voice cutting through the comfortable silence, disturbing the ease. “Sorry if this is a weird question, it’s probably coming out of nowhere, I’ve just been wondering for a while…”

He trailed off, but Trucy was already responding.

“Sure, Polly, go for it! But if it’s about any of my magic tricks, those are secrets! I can’t tell you any of those, you should know that by now!”

She laughed and shook a finger at him, as though he were a misbehaving kid. While she was clearly having fun, Athena appearing amused as well, Apollo kept a serious expression on his face.

“It’s just… this sounds weird, but I’ve always wondered why you call Mr. Wright ‘daddy’.”

He hated how awkward it sounded, but how on earth was he supposed to ask that naturally?

Trucy just laughed again.

“Well I’m not going to call him ‘Mr. Wright’ like you and Athena do! He’s your boss, not mine, Polly! Or did you forget?”

She laughed and winked, and Athena laughed along as well.

“Come on, Apollo,” Athena chimed in, “What kind of question is that supposed to be?”

Apollo frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, cut it out. That’s not what I meant. It’s just… Isn’t that a childish thing to call your dad? I mean, you’re sixteen, I thought you would’ve grown out of it by now or something.”

Athena shot Apollo a glare, sans malice, as she waved her screens away.

“Don’t listen to him, Trucy! You’re still young, call your dad whatever you want!”

Apollo would’ve stuck his tongue out at Athena but he refused to stoop to such childish things, so he settled for glaring at her instead.

“Geez, chill Athena! I’m just telling the truth, it’s not like it’s a bad thing. I’m just wondering. It is kinda childish, you have to admit.”

It was Trucy’s turn to cross her arms now, over her legs as pulled them down and tucked them close to her chest.

“It might be, I guess. Though, I don’t really care, that’s not why I call him that.”

Athena’s eyes widened and Widget lit up yellow.

“Wait, wait, wait. Trucy, you actually have a reason? Huh, and I thought Apollo was just going off on a conspiracy theory.”

“Hey! Give me a little more credit than that!”

Trucy laughed at their antics, but it didn’t go unnoticed by either of the others that it was missing the spark it had previously held.

Apollo started to feel a pang of regret.

“Well, kinda?” She said, holding a smile that was beginning to waver. “I mean I guess I have a reason, but I also sort of don’t? It’s… complicated, I guess.”

Trucy stood, walking past the table and over to the window next to her father’s desk. Apollo and Athena both watched her, unsure of what they should say, if anything.

She looked out the window, her eyes tracing the cars below, reflected in the glass.

“Athena,” Trucy said, voice just slightly off, still facing the window, still refusing to look either of them in the eye. “Did Daddy ever tell you the story of how I got adopted?”

Athena nodded, then remembered Trucy couldn’t see her.

“Yeah, well… a bit? Boss said I didn’t need to know all the details, but he said he adopted you right around the time he lost his badge. He was defending your father, I think, but then he disappeared. I don’t know much more than that.”

Trucy nodded, still looking out the window.

“Yeah… that’s pretty much it. I don’t have to explain to you guys what it feels like… knowing you don’t have parents. No one to look out for you. It was only two weeks, way shorter than what either of you have had to deal with, so I guess I shouldn’t complain, haha…”

Athena bit the edge of her lip, unsure of what to say, but Trucy continued.

“Zak Gramarye, Shadi Enigmar, whatever you want to call him.” She said, waving her hand nonchalantly, “He ran away. Disappeared, really. The only end appropriate for a magician. And it’s not like I even have the right to be upset over it, I helped him do it.”

She said those words as if she was horrified with herself, dropping her hand to grip the edge of the desk, then let out a breath, soft and shuddering slightly.

“He left… and he never came back. But before long… he, my new daddy that is, called me into his office.”

Trucy paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

“I remember the look on his face when he told me… ‘no living relatives’. And I remember even clearer… what he looked like when he said would take me in, instead.”

Trucy laughed a little, but it was hollow, empty.

“Did you know it was only supposed to be temporary? Just until ‘daddy came back’. Well… guess who never showed up?”

She raised a hand to her eyes, wiping away tears that neither Apollo or Athena could see.

“And the funny thing is… I should be upset. I am upset… but not in the way I’m supposed to be. Because every time I think about it… Every time I get scared… w-worry that I’ll be all alone… a-again… I remember what Daddy told me.”

She raised her head just a little higher as she spoke, eyes closed as she quoted her memory.

“‘You can call me ‘daddy’, if you’d like. It doesn’t have to be today, or anything.’... That…. is what he said. And I, a foolish child, accepted it the second he said it.”

Trucy lowered her head again.

“He was so willing to just… let me into his family. Just like that. Before he knew about the Gramarye gift, before I had done anything for him but caused him misery. A-and I was pushy and upfront, I wanted him to be my dad right away, and I’d just lost the first. Maybe that makes me a horrible daughter, willing to abandon someone that quick. Maybe I just really wanted him to like me. I leapt at the chance to be someone's daughter again like I was jumping to a life raft off a sinking ship. Maybe… I was scared that someone would leave me behind again. But the thing is… Daddy never did. It was supposed to be temporary, just until Zak Gramarye made his return. And when he never did, Daddy never said a word. He just kept on caring for me, kept on loving me.”

Trucy took a deep breath in, shuddering again, stronger this time. It was sounding more like a sob.

“It’s different for him, I’m sure. But the moment he told me I could call him my daddy is the moment he became mine, to me. The moment he told me he’d be there for me, like a daddy should be. And every moment after that… even if he was busy, even if things were desperate, no matter what.”

Her voice was choked now and Athena knew she was crying, the same tears she knew were stinging Trucy’s eyes beginning to sting her own. The sound of Trucy’s pain pierced her like a knife slashing through her heart.

“He always comes back.”

Trucy’s voice cracked on the final words, and by now Athena had already stood up, closely followed by Apollo.

“I should probably tell him all this someday… but for now it’s just my little secret. Can you promise me you’ll keep it?”

When Trucy finally turned to meet Apollo and Athena’s eyes, she found both of them looking at her with equally teary expressions as her own.

“Of course.”

“Absolutely.”

Trucy smiled, and it was real this time.

Athena opened her arms, and before she could blink, Trucy had hopped off the desk and into her arms, gripping her tight in a hug. Athena held Trucy close, feeling the slight shake of her body as she hugged her securely. It wasn’t long before another set of arms, Apollo’s to be sure, joined in the mix.

They stayed there for a moment, Apollo and Athena holding Trucy, protecting her from anything outside that might harm her, though of course, nothing was there.

And then, as soon as it had begun, Trucy let go, and the hold gently dissolved.

“I’m alright, I really am. I’m still scared, sometimes. But I know Daddy will be there for me. And you’ll be there for me too… I hope.”

“Of course we will!” Athena cried out, and it took her a moment to realize that Widget had called out the same thing.

“Athena’s right. Widget too. We’re here for you, Trucy,” Apollo added. His voice was more stable than either of the girls, but he couldn’t hide the slight tremor in it from Athena.

“Thank you. Both of you,” Trucy said.

And as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand once more, Phoenix stepped back inside the office, files in tow.

“Hey gang, I’m back!” He called, smile dropping as his gaze landed on his daughter scrubbing the tear tracks off of her cheeks.

“Trucy! Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

He rushed forward, eyes scanning over Trucy’s body for any signs of physical injury.

“Nothing! Everything’s fine, Daddy!”

There were still tears at the corners of his daughter's eyes as she looked up to her father’s concerned face with a smile. He reached down, opening his arms to allow Trucy to hug him, which she gladly did.

“Are you sure?” Phoenix continued, shooting a worried glance at his employees over Trucy’s shoulder. “Apollo, Athena? Should I be worried?”

Athena shook her head.

“All good here, boss!”

Apollo twisted his bracelet around his wrist as he spoke.

“Nothing to be worried about.”

It was their words that allowed Phoenix to relax.

“Well if Apollo says it’s nothing to be worried over, then I’m sure it’s all fine,” He said, the teasing in his tone reassuring the others in turn.

He straightened as Trucy let go, smiling as he went.

“Alright then, is everyone good to get back to work?”

Athena pumped a fist, Trucy grinned, and Apollo crossed his arms over his chest with a smile.

That was answer enough for Phoenix.

“Great. Let’s get back to it!”

And back into the quiet sort of comfortable the office had previously been in they slipped.

As Trucy returned to practicing card tricks, Athena glanced at Phoenix, pretending to be tidying her desk as she did.

She couldn’t say for sure if Trucy was right about one thing… if Phoenix really did see his Trucy as a daughter later in their relationship rather than sooner. But as she watched him pull the locket out of his pocket to look at the picture inside, she was confident Trucy had been right about the other.

He would always come back for her.

[end]

[rivalsforlife]

sebastian!

sorry this took so long, anon!

----

Romantic Love

Sebastian hadn’t seen how it started, but he knew that somehow, the Maid of Honor had managed to convince Mr. Edgeworth’s newly-official husband to throw a flower bouquet into the crowd, much to the agony of Mr. Edgeworth, who Sebastian had seen pacing the floor several times at every unexpected event, no matter how minor.

And then, somehow, Sebastian caught the bouquet.

Chaos ensued, namely from some friends of Mr. Wright’s who had been eager to catch it themselves; and also from Kay, who had been trying to convince Mr. Edgeworth to toss a bouquet all night, and had lunged across the entire banquet hall as soon as Mr. Wright lifted his above shoulder level. Over the noise, Sebastian could hear Mr. Edgeworth shouting something at his husband.

But. Well. It was in Sebastian’s hands now. That… meant something, right? It meant he was supposed to be the next one to get married. Unless he was mixing that up with some other tradition. He mixed up his words and phrases less these days, now that people would teach them to him and correct him when he got it wrong, but it was still something he worried about.

“Sebbie!” Kay crowed, flinging an arm around his shoulder. “Looks like you’re next!”

He’d gotten it right after all. Sebastian ducked out from under her arm and said, “That’s just a tradition, though. Mr. Edgeworth said those aren’t always right.”

“Hmm… I think you mean ‘superstition’, Seb.”

“Is that right?” Darn it. He’d been worried about the wrong thing. “Well, still.”

“Mr. Edgeworth is boring and lacks dreams and romance,” said Kay, a bold claim considering they were still in the middle of his wedding. “You don’t need to listen to him on this stuff. Hey, are you good, though? You look kinda uncomfortable.”

“Oh?” Sebastian blinked down at the bouquet. “I’m okay. It’s just… weird, I guess? I never thought much about getting married.”

“No?”

It’s not that he was exactly against marriage, or thought he wouldn’t find a partner someday, or didn’t feel romantic attraction on occasion… it just wasn’t something he spent a lot of time working towards. He didn’t go out for the sole purpose of finding a romantic partner. He’d always thought, if there would be someone, they’d just… come to him. Or he’d meet them in court, or something, since that’s what happened with most of his coworkers.

He shrugged. “If it happens, it happens. I’m not gonna try and rush to fulfil the tra -- the superstition, though.”

“Glad to hear that! I don’t want to lose my favourite roommate just yet.” She clapped him on the back. “Hm, I wonder if we can pass the luck on, though. Toss it to me, I’ll lob it over for someone else to catch! That Ms. Cykes gave me a good run for her money.”

Was she the woman who’d glared at Sebastian once she caught the bouquet? Sebastian laughed and lightly tossed it over. “Go for it!”

-----

Platonic Love

“What d’you mean you’ve never played a video game before, dude?”

Sebastian winced reflexively at the raised voice, even when it was from a thirteen-year-old kid half his size. John sighed and added, “Not that there’s like… anything wrong with it. It’s just weird.”

“Y-Yeah. I guess.”

Sebastian never had the chance to play video games before. His Pops had always told him to study if he wanted to turn out like him; which Sebastian tried to do, then got distracted, or the words wouldn’t make sense, so he’d listen to music instead. Pops bought him a console once, but when Sebastian tried playing it, he ripped the cord out of the wall in the middle of the game and laughed at his reaction. One day the console just “disappeared”.

It seemed needlessly cruel. Sebastian didn’t understand it, the way he didn’t understand most things his Pops did.

“Just… sit here,” John commanded. Sebastian obeyed. He was the one in charge, technically; Justine was out for the day, and she’d asked Sebastian to babysit, because they were all still a little jumpy over the events of the last week, even if no one would admit it. But John seemed to know what he was doing more than Sebastian did. Since everything he knew had crumbled before him, Sebastian realized he had no idea what he did and didn’t know.

Video games, at least, fell into that category of “didn’t know”.

John shoved a controller on his hands. “It’s easy. You use this joystick to move, this button to physical attack, this one to special attack, and this one to jump. Got it? You’ve gotta try and kill me before I kill you.”

“Um. Right.” He’d already forgotten what the buttons were. “Th-This one’s the… spatial attack?”

“It’s called special attack. And that’s the other button.”

“Y-Yeah. I know that!”

“You know what, just try playing, you’ll figure it out.” Before Sebastian could protest, John already started up the game, colourful figures and a countdown appearing on screen.

“W-Wait, I --!”

He already died.

“You’ve got plenty of lives,” said John, not taking his eyes off the screen and beating up some of those… MPCs? Was that what they were called? “Keep playing.”

Sebastian did.

He died pretty quickly the next time. Then he walked off a cliff. Then he forgot how to jump and ran into a bomb and blew up. 

Every time he died, John would give this little sigh. He was such an impatient kid, for having Justine as a mom; Sebastian figured this was his version of patience.

But, eventually, Sebastian managed to hit one of the opposing players. Then again. Soon, it didn’t take him any effort at all to remember the buttons, and he moved on muscle memory.

When he got his first kill, the two of them leapt up from the couch and cheered, and John gave him a high-five. Slowly Sebastian improved, and they continued to play, until Justine came home and watched with a smile on her face.

-----

Familial Love

It had taken a few years of genuine, hard work, and many sleepless nights studying for his classes and then the Bar exam; but finally, Sebastian passed on his own merits. The little badge in the middle of his gloved hands was his own, something untouched by Pops and his influence. It was so small, but heavy, and the evening light glinted off of its sharp edges.

“Are you alright, Sebastian?”

Sebastian looked up. Mr. Edgeworth stood at his desk, watching, unmistakable pride on his features. It was really thanks to him Sebastian made it this far; even after guiding him to his path, he’d been an encouraging mentor every step of the way. “Y-Yeah. I just… I can’t believe it.”

“You should be proud. You’ve worked very hard to earn that badge, Sebastian, and I’m proud of you.”

A strange feeling of guilt washed over him at those words. “What if I… what if I end up like him? Like Pops? I-I… don’t want to screw up, and… hurt anyone.”

“Your father did not ‘screw up’, as you put it,” said Mr. Edgeworth. “Everything he did was deliberate and intended for cruelty. So long as you keep your goals set on justice and truth, and correct any mistakes you do make… you wouldn’t ever fall that far.”

“I know, but…” Sebastian closed his hands around the badge. He couldn’t find the words to express his fears, not in a way that made sense, not like a logical prosecutor at all.

“You know, Sebastian… my mentor was much like your father,” said Mr. Edgeworth. “He used his power over the law for his own pride. He was cruel, and unjust, and he raised me and Franziska to be just like him.”

“But you’re not!” Sebastian protested. “Neither of you are! You’ve always been such… such a good person, Mr. Edgeworth.”

Mr. Edgeworth smirked. “Well, not always. The both of us had to unlearn many things to become the people we are today. And our mentor -- Franziska’s father -- however hard he tried… did not determine our destiny for us. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I-I think so…”

Mr. Edgeworth put a hand on his shoulder. “The power of law is immense, and it can, has, and is being used for injustice,” he said. “The fact that you are aware of it, and are trying in every way you can to not misuse it… means that you are a very different person than your father. Hold to your path, and you will never end up like him.” He smiled. “You’ve accomplished a great deal. I truly am prouder of you than words can describe. I wouldn’t be saying that if I had any doubts as to your ability… alright?”

“A-Alright.” Sebastian could feel tears welling in his eyes, but he forced them back so he wouldn’t get them on Mr. Edgeworth’s suit when he leaned in for a hug. “Thank you so much for everything, Mr. Edgeworth.”

“Of course, Sebastian.” Mr. Edgeworth patted his back. “Anytime.”

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

You and Me and You- Winchesters x OC Miliana

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: Hi friends! I’m sorry I haven’t been updating anything in so long! Life has been crazy! Work was chaotic, I went out of town for my birthday last month, yes the one I was supposed to spend with the SPN cast :(, and I moved towns. I’m currently in a temporary living environment as my family searches for a new place! So yeah, I’m so sorry I haven’t been around. On top of that, the mobile app has been so freaking glitchy and it’s super annoying. I’m not on my laptop as much but it might be worth it to read more fics! I hope everyone is well and please, send feedback! 

Xxx Monique

Word Count: 2,420

Chapter 3- 1997- Miliana’s POV

It was just another day in high school for me. I didn’t think I was all that special, yet everyone wanted to be my friend. I tried to keep to myself since I wasn’t like any normal sixteen-year-old. No, I was raised by the infamous supernatural hunter, Bobby Singer. Yeah, that was a fun childhood. He was always in and out of the picture but he made sure to show me and tell me how much he loved me. It did help too when the Winchester Brothers would come to stay with me. They were good friends of mine but their Dad kind of went a bit crazy. He found one monumental case up in like Canada or somewhere, packed up all his things, including his sons, and off they went. It’s been six years since I’ve seen them. My Dad tried to stay local for all his hunts since he believed girls can’t and shouldn’t be hunters, and I guess that makes sense, considering a demon killed his wife, but still, I grew up in this life; I understand it. Jody and her friend Donna, who also is a Sheriff, would come by and bring some of the girls they would take in. Just to help them out, kinda like what Bobby did with me. They’d come around when my Dad had a case that wasn’t close to home and it’s not like I’m not old enough to stay at home alone; Dad just gets freaked out.

“So Miliana, you’re almost done with your sophomore year now. How’s that feel?” Jody asked me one day when she and Donna came to stay with me. They brought some girl, Jessica, to stay with us too but I didn’t like her.

“Oh, I’m excited but I’m also ready just to start junior year,” I admit.

“Why’s that, kiddo?” Donna asked.

“Well, there tend to be more ways to get involved in junior and senior year…” I trail off my thoughts, avoiding the real reason I couldn’t wait to be an upper-class woman.

“You mean there’s a prom once you become a junior?” Jody gave a knowing look.

Damn, she was good. Yeah freshmen and sophomores had dances but they were separated from the juniors and seniors and we didn’t get the same respect as they did.

“Well yeah,” I admit, sheepishly.

“That makes sense. Plus, you’ll feel older and feel like nothing is impossible.” Jody said, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

She was exactly right. I loved Jody like she was my Mother. She kind of was, given the fact that when it came to girl stuff, she would be the one I called. My Dad would just get all embarrassed and wouldn’t know what to do. You can probably figure out how my first period went; awkward.

“Hey, I have to get going. I’m on the planning committee for this year’s end-of-school-year dance, as they call it for us lower classmen. I have to meet before and after school so I won’t be home until late!” I yell as I’m grabbing my backpack and rushing out the door.

“Don’t forget to call before you leave school so I can alert your father! Jody called, as I scurried out the door.

“Yeah!” I yell in response as I run out the door and down the driveway to meet up with my friend, Sandy. She was already further in life than I was. Sandy came from a wealthy background; Daddy paid for everything. She had a boyfriend, was gifted a car on her sixteenth birthday, and was already planning to attend college. She would be turning seventeen the first week of June so she was already “older” than the other sophomores.

“Hi, Sandy!” I say as I throw my bag in the back and off, we went.

“So, you won’t believe what I heard!” She starts with the daily gossip that was floating around campus before we even get there! This was a routine for us. Sandy would come to pick me up and would tell me all the latest drama before we even get to school. She’s very into other people and for the most part, this school doesn’t do a lot in private.

“What’s up today, Sand?” I ask. I was the only one allowed to call her that. She hated being called Sand but for some reason, we’re friends and I can call her Sand. Normally, you wouldn’t think two girls like us would be friends, but I stood up for her when some other “popular girls” were getting in her face, so I threatened to give all of them high-calorie snack bars, and they all backed off. Oh, that’s another thing. Almost all the girls at this school are on a low carb, no fat diet. They mostly ate salads all the time and ate like rabbits, which is why Sandy and I became friends. We both have high metabolisms so we can eat like pigs and never gain any weight; all the other girls are jealous.  

“Jared Kingston and Carly Wright are having an extremely public break up on the quad; again.”

“Jesus, again? Isn’t this like the twelfth time they’ve broken up?” I ask. Jared and Carly were your typical power couple; Jared, football captain, Carly, head cheerleader.

“Thirteenth.” Sandy corrected me.

“Don’t they get tired of all the drama? And for the love of God, can they not be so public about it?”

“Well, you know how Carly is. She thinks MTV is going to walk in one day and do a reality show off her non-existent singing career.” Sandy and I laughed. You sing a solo in the seventh-grade talent show and suddenly, you’re a professional singer.

“Hell, if anyone is a singer, it’s you, Mills. Get it?” I just scoff at Sandy’s lame joke, playing off my last name being Singer, and before I knew it, we were at school.

We parked the car and began grabbing all our stuff when a real sleek classic black car drove up to the front of the school. Parked rather crooked, two young boys got out of the car and everything around me suddenly came to a halt. I knew that car. I didn’t get a chance to see them because there was a thrall of students surrounding the car. Jared and Carly’s break up long forgotten, as guys were impressed with the car and the girls were impressed with the boys who came from that car.

“Whoa, who do you think they are?” Sandy asked me, snapping me from my thoughts.

“No one worth our time. Come on.” I say, strutting off, but not before I got the feeling one person was staring at me. We got to homeroom Spanish and chatted away with all our friends before Mrs. Ramirez came into the room.

“Clase, cálmate (“class, settle down)!” Mrs. Ramirez had the philosophy to speak in Spanish and have us try and figure out what she saying until she ended up having to tell us anyway. Not sure this was a very useful way of teaching but this what she did.

“Buenos días clase, tenemos un nuevo alumno. Este es Sam Winchester.” (“Good morning class, we have a new student. This is Sam Winchester.”) My head snapped up; it couldn’t be.

“Saluda a Sam.” (Say hello to Sam.)

“Hi, Sam.” A very few students had bothered to say hello to the new student, who was ushered to sit down in the only open seat in the class; next to me.

“Hey, I’m Sam.” He says, sitting down, but not making eye contact with me. I didn’t know what to say so I just kept quiet, hoping he would remember me.

“Do you not…holy shit. Miliana?”

“Hi, Sam,” I say, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“Wha-what are you doing here?” He asks me in surprise.

“I should be asking you the same.”

“You never left Lawrence?” He whispers/asks.

I shake my head. “You know how my Dad felt about a girl being a hunter. He didn’t want me to have to see that life once I reached high school. Said I needed every normal high school experience I could get.”

“Well Miliana Singer, you are far from normal.” He said, causing heat to suddenly appear in my cheeks.

“Sra. Singer, Sr. Winchester, ¿tiene algo que quiera compartir con el resto de la clase? (Ms. Singer, Mr. Winchester, do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?).”

“No Sra. Ramirez (No Mrs. Ramirez)” We both said in unison, our attention now on the lesson.

“¡Bien, entonces ciérralo! (Good, then zip it!)” As the rest of the class went on, I couldn’t help but steal glances from Sam. He was exactly how I remember him but he grew! He must’ve hit a growth spurt somewhere in those six years since I saw him last because he’s a freaking giant now. His hair is longer now too. He occasionally would flip it out of his eyes and it would send a whiff of his cologne and his natural “Sammy scent” as Dean used to call it, my way. His eyes were a mix of green and brown, like the color of the trees right before they begin to change color for the fall. And his smile was a big and bright and contagious as ever.

“Señorita Singer, ¿le gustaría resumir la Constitución española? (Miss Singer, would you like to summarize the Spanish Constitution?).

“Um…” I trail off but a voice spoke up.

“España es una monarquía y trabajan para mostrar la importancia de la libertad, la justicia, la igualdad y el pluralismo politico. (Spain is a monarchy and they work to show the importance of freedom, justice, equality, and political pluralism.)” Sam responded in perfect Spanish, to which everyone in the room took notice of.

“Muy Bueno señor Winchester. (Very good, Mr. Winchester). To which Sam just winked at me. Holy crap, what was happening here? How has he gotten more attractive all these later? And what is he doing in tenth? Wasn’t he supposed to be a freshman? He’s fifteen after all! I don’t know what his game is but I’m going to figure it out and figure out why he’s back in Lawrence. He got out! Why would anyone want to come back here?

The bell rang, indicating the end of the class and the prime time to catch up with Sam. However, with him being so tall, once he grabbed his backpack, he was out the door in a flash.

“This boy!” I said in my head. Keeping up with him was going to be a struggle considering I’m only 5’6. Rushing out the class, I zig-zag through the crowded halls, looking for that floppy head of hair. Finally, on almost the opposite side of campus, there he was. He was lucky to have a top locker but I guess because he’s so big, it makes sense.

“Sam!” I yell, just a few feet away, but quickly catching up.

“Millie, hey.” He said smiling that perfect smile but using my nickname; the only my closest friends and family can call me. It was weird hearing him say it since he feels like a stranger now.

“Miliana,” I tell him.

“What?” He looked a bit stunned that I corrected him.

“It’s Miliana. Only my closest friends and family get to call me Millie and since you left…” I instantly regretted it when the words fell off my lips but there it was.

“Ah yeah, I guess I kind of deserve that, especially since we didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Sam said, slowly nodded his head as he understood why I was hostile.

“Yeah, no offense but your Dad is kind of…” I say but he interrupts me.

“A douche? Yeah, I know.” Sam said, knowing all too well how I felt about how his Dad just ripped him away from me. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, surprised to see you here. Actually, why are you back in Lawrence?”

“Well Dad figured to move closer to home for a while but Dean still loves the hunter life so he and my Dad go out on a lot of cases.”

“Are you left alone a lot?”

“Oh yeah, but I’m going to living close to your Dad. There’s a small little house that is just up the road from where you guys are so I figured I’d stay there.”

“So, you’ll be around more often?” I tried to hide my hopefulness but I knew Sam; he could tell.

“I hope to, at least until graduation.” He grinned at me and my heart fluttered. Stop it, Miliana.

“By the way, how are you a sophomore? You’re fifteen!”

“Oh that. Well, I’m pretty advanced for my age so they set me up as a sophomore.”

“I’d say you are pretty advanced; you speak Spanish fluently!” I comment, still being stunned that he spoke so effortlessly. “Why are you taking a Spanish class if you’re that fluent?”

“Eh, I needed it for credit so I thought it would be the easiest A I could come by. Plus, I have separate assignments than the rest of the class.”

“What?”

“I’m an in-class tutor. When Mrs. Ramirez can’t tutor students in need of some extra attention, she looks to me. Turns out, a lot of the class is struggling so we made a deal; I tutor and learn all her lessons, I get the credit.”

Okay, Sam was so much cooler than I remember him being. He is so sweet and caring and smart and, oh no, I can’t be falling for him. No way, no! We had one little incident when we were kids but that was it; we were kids! We didn’t know what love or crushes were then. I cannot be falling for my childhood friend.

“You good there, Miliana?” Sam said, bringing out me of my thoughts again.

“Yeah, I’m good, thanks.”

“You sure? You looked like you were thinking about me shirtless or something.”

That son of a bitch! “What? Pssst. You wish Winchester!”

Sam just chuckled and shook his head but grabbed some more books out of his locker and set them in his bag, patted me on the shoulder, and bid me farewell. Shit, I’m so screwed.

 (Reference for the Spanish Constitution because I don’t plagiarize: Smith, Carr, Spain. Encyclopedia Britannica. Encyclopedia Britannica Inc. 2020 16 August. 2020 18 August. https://www.britannica.com/place/Spain)

Forever tags: @fandom-princess-forevermore @simpleb00x @juju-la-tortue @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams 

Taglist: @tlovescoffee @tykezparkerstark

Taglist requests open! Inbox open! Ask open! Requests open!

[lookbluesoup]

Fallout OC Interview

@robobrainmurdermysterytheatre and @quinndecker214 tagged me to do this LITERAL AGES ago! Thanks for this and IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG it got lost in my drafts I hope it was worth the wait //shot I TAG @nuclearvessel @ronqueesha @tarberrymentats @wild-w4steland-snip3r @daddyfuckinlonglegs @saltsealed @thewookieruns No pressure!!

Choose an OC.

Answer them as that OC.

Tag 5 people to do the same.

1. What is your name? Nathaniel Christian Wright. Maiden name Ronan, if, aha, you like fun-facts.

2. How old are you? You know I lost count somewhere after 240?

3. What do you look like?

4. Where are you from? Where do you live now? I was born a good ways South of here, spent most of my childhood there. Moved to Boston... before the War. Now I stay with Piper in Diamond City between work, got an infield view and everything! Never would have bet on that the day I woke up in the Vault. I guess life’s funny, hunh? I - ...I’m glad to be there.

5. What was your childhood like? Oh, nothing special, really. My Pa was ex-military, a chaplain. Ma stayed home to tend the house, and raise rambunctious sons. She was - good. I wonder sometimes whether she’d be proud of me, out here.

6. What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions? Well, I am K i n g of the Castle - a-hem, I mean, General. Yeah, just General. (//Ronnie distantly yells something about the joke not being funny the 80th time)

[[There are rumors of Nate being a leading Railroad Agent, but he absolutely would not admit to that in a casual interview xD]]

7. Tell me about your best friend. Deacon? Hah! What can’t I tell you about him! He’s got a two-dozen kids. Twelve wives. One’s a ghoul. He’s also a synth, but you didn’t hear that from me. Has an extra toe on his left foot. Those sunglasses aren’t a fashion statement, they’re glued to his face. Horrible accident, really. Inoperable. He can speak five languages, including Zetan. I swear, it’s all true! But, ah. He’s a good friend. Better than he knows.

8. Do you have a family? Tell me about them! My son, Shaun, lives here at the Castle. I wish I could bring him to Diamond City, let him make friends with the other kids, try to give him something of the life he might’ve had before the War. But I’ve got enemies. The Minutemen have enemies. Comes with the job. It’s safer for Shaun to be here, out of the limelight. And also, you know, with a barracks full of guns ready at a minute’s notice if there’s trouble. My men are family, too. Hell, I feel closer to the people here than I did most of my own blood in the old world. There’s also my butler, Codsworth. And Natalie, Piper’s little sister - well, she may as well be my little sister, too. But hey, keep that one off the record. Nat’d never forgive me.

9. What about a partner or partners? I’m a happily tethered man, bound for life to one kickass reporter, Mrs. Wright. You may have heard of her. 

10. Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them? [Nate seems more guarded] Yeah, I know them. That graveyard across the channel used to be their airship. I wish it had ended differently, but... well, war never changes.

11. Who are your enemies, and why? I suppose that’s a natural follow-up question. Well, most of the Raider gangs will attack on sight. Gunners, too. But we’ve managed to clear a pretty safe stretch between major towns over the past year. Since the Minutemen have established a pro-synth stance, more than a few settlements shut their doors on us. Lost a fair number of volunteers. But no violence so far. Other than that... the remnants of Brotherhood here aren’t fond of me, personally. Why? We parted on bad terms. Lets just - leave it at that. Anyone else out here can tell you the story. There are Institute survivors, too. We tried to get as many noncombatants out as we could the day it fell, but it was a battle. It was messy. A lot haven’t forgiven me for turning on them. [sighs] ...Can you blame them? The Minutemen have kept a running list of Courser sightings since then. So many still aren’t accounted for. Keeps me up at night, sometimes.  

12. What about The Enclave? I’ve heard rumors. None of them good. 13. How do you feel about Super Mutants? Tough bastards. I wish we could help them. I know they don’t all go crazy, and Virgil was making progress on a cure. But I haven’t seen him in years. We’re not - really on speaking terms.

14. Have you ever fought a Deathclaw? More than once, and never unscathed. Not bragging! It’s the truth. Take a look at this, [he rolls back his sleeve to show a massive scar running over his upper arm] Piper and I got pinned down, lizard gutted me and nearly lost me an arm. Also? Ruined my best flannel shirt.

15. What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in? Bunker Hill. What a hellscape. Between the Railroad and the Institute, things were hot enough. But somehow the Brotherhood found out, too. It’s a wonder Bunker Hill wasn’t razed to the ground. My Courser escort was killed in a Railroad ambush and the synths we were after escaped. I barely got out alive.

[[Nate actually killed X4-18 and helped the synths escape, but that’s another Railroad secret :’D]] 16. Do you like fighting? No. But I’ll do what I have to to stay alive and protect the people I care about. 17. What’s your weapon of choice? A modified radium rifle. I was a sniper back in my army days, it’s what I’m trained in. But if the fight does get close, this gun’s versatile enough to still be useful. Wish my loadout back in Anchorage did that. I’m fond of the laser musket, too - but you only get one shot, and then everyone will know exactly where you are. Strategically it’s too limited.

18. How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?) My winning charm, of course! [winks] And trekking all over the Commonwealth keeps me fit for when folks aren’t so interested in talking. Piper keeps the luck for both of us. I’m - pretty sure I’m cursed, actually.

S(6) P(7) E(8) C(11) I(7) A(5) L(2)

19. Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them? I suppose I should be grateful, really. If not for the Vaults, I’d have died two centuries ago. I’d never have met Piper, or taught Shaun to play baseball. None of this... none of this at all would have happened. [grimaces] Don’t get me wrong. Vault-tec was fucking insane. The things they did to people in some of those Vaults-? I was uncharacteristically lucky. There’s a reason they call me the Sole Survivor, and it’s not from winning some tv game show about living on an island.

20. How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you? My Pip-Boy has a Geiger counter built in so I can avoid the worst of it. But sometimes it can’t be helped. I always keep Rad-Away and Rad-X on hand. Other than that, I bring the old vault suit to wear under my clothes if I know exposure’s inevitable. It helps a little. Piper likes to tease me about that, but somehow I think she prefers me with hair and less than six limbs. Plus, my ass looks great in blue. Her words. Not mine. Yes, you can quote that.

21. What’s your favorite wasteland critter? The radstags, no doubt! [motions to Legs Washington] Look at those little extra arms wiggling around. Adorable.

22. What’s your least favorite wasteland critter? Yao guais. They are way too stealthy for something that big. I dunno what they’re eating up in Maine, but Far Harbor was full of them. Big, grumpy ones. And look, have you ever tried to outrun a bear? Don’t.

23. How do you feel about robots? I like the ones that aren’t shooting at me! Codsworth and Ada are friends. Isabel’s eyebot, Sparks? Adorable. I even got this hat from an old Sentry named Ironsides. Those Rust Devils and their junk bots though? I try not to fight them without a lot of backup. Got ambushed by a Succubus once. Not a good time. At all.

24. How many caps do you have on you right now? Why, you planning to rob me? Kidding. About 200, which is a lot for me generally speaking.

25. Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla? [Suddenly excited] Wait, does Sunset Sarsaparilla still exist?

26. Do you do chems? Aside from Med-X when I’ve been shot? Not if I can help it.

27. Do you ever think about the Pre-War world? Not as often as in the beginning, but it does happen sometimes. I’ll have dreams where I’m back in my old life, and it’s always... disorienting.

28. What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently? There are - a lot. I’ll admit it. Sometimes I wonder, if I’d only just - hm... Well. To be honest, I’ve been trying not to linger so much on what I’ve done wrong, and focus on what I can do right for the future instead. Piper taught me that.

29. What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve?  I’ll always be proud to call myself Mr. Wright. If I can be half the man Piper tells me I am, I’ll consider it a life well lived.

30. What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world? Geeze, you could give my wife a run for her money with a loaded question like that! I want... a future where folks don’t have to be afraid of monsters coming after them in the night. I want synths to have a fair chance at living their own lives, as who they are, without pretending. I want Shaun to - be able to grow up. For myself? Everything I need is right here already.

[becausenoothernameisavailable]

Winter Olympics AU.

Day 5. No Dalton AU Dalton Academy never existed. So where do our characters end up? Do some of them know each other anyway? Maybe they ended up in public schools, maybe they would never meet at all. Tell or show us what happens if Dalton Academy had never been built.

They meet at the Olympics of course.

“And now we have TEAM USA led by the defending Olympic Champion Blaine Anderson”

As the announcer continued to speak about Blaine Anderson and size of the Team USA, Logan sighed and carefully made his way down the icy cold arena surrounded by his teammates, his rivals, his friends, all wrapped up in their heavy matching jacket, gloves, mittens and boots as they smiled and cheered and waved at the gathered spectators.

He was here to win. Gold, his dad promised to everyone at to the press conference announcing the team representing the USA in the 2022 Olympics.

“So, you’re not sad that it’s not you out there?” Logan looked up to find his best friend Derek gesturing to the front at Blaine; mitten gloved and beaming as he slowly carried their country flag, waving it carefully and smiling as he led the team.

“No.” he sighed remembering the awful situation that was his dad who finally realized that his son’s fooling around was an actual Olympic sport and could be spun around to boost his campaign that he gunned for Logan to be the flag bearer. Luckily, Logan got to his dad first before he could talk to concerned people and convince him that he needed to focus on his jumps, otherwise, that would have been a disaster waiting to happen. There was already talk about favouritism and politics involved thanks to his dad but Logan won the national trials by fair and square and by a large margin. There were no doubts involved he was good, but now he needed to prove just how good he actually was.

“No, Blaine deserved it, he did win gold in the last Olympics. There was no way they would replace him with me.”

“Then it’s all cool with you.” Derek asked as he watched his best friend, “And him.”  They both gave up the pretence of waving and were walking side by side, camouflaged by the sheer size of the US Winter Olympics team.

“Yeah.” Logan nodded and watched his ex who was now glancing at his boyfriend Kurt Hummel – US team Figure skater as he walked not quite behind Blaine and they both beamed at each other. “He’s with Hummel now. We were not good together.”

“You did love him, once.”

“And look at what that led us to, a hushed-up article about a bar fight between an Olympic gold medalist and the son of a US Senator. And to think that it started out as a date.”

“Well, I am glad to see you’re better now.” Derek grinned at him, “and I look forward to beating you on the ice.”

“You got a Bronze last time.” Logan nudged him, ”don’t act like as if you won.”

“At least I was on the podium, Mr 4th Place.” Derek smiled cheekily and slapped Logan on the back, who narrowed his eyes on him, “Oh it’s so on Seigerson.”

“Come at me, Wright.”

*

The opening ceremony went on for the rest of the night and soon it was the next day and qualifying rounds began for the games which would last for almost two weeks.

You got this, just ski like you normally ski and all will be well.

“Men’s round – Team 1 out on the ice.”

“You got this.” He told himself and immediately walked into another person. He couldn’t stop it from happen and they both went slipping out into the ice.

“Ow,” Logan said and from where he was sprawled out on the floor. “You okay,” Derek said as skied and stopped next to him. “Yes, though I think I was sabotaged.” and Derek laughed, “Sabotaged, by him.” He gestured to the other person who was still winded out, lying on the ice.

He looked pale and delicate, slender Logan corrected as those were clearly muscles that moved through his skin-tight training suit as he was surrounded by teammates – Great Britain, Logan read as the guy slowly moved away from the ice, shivering. Logan frowned, he would have to be freezing here out in the snow, in the elements with just a training suit which did wonders for his body highlighting his muscles, skin tight and black standing out in the white snow.

“Logan. Hey.” He realized that Derek was still talking to him and he dusted himself and nodded to Derek, “I am alright, let’s do this.”

*

In, out, just like breathing. Logan thought as he skied, that’s its.

“Great work everyone.” Their coach smiled and Logan nodded. He was done for the day and he needed the rest hoping that his allotted room was free.

He dropped his kit back in the room and went down to the mess building and almost collided with another person. Twice in one day, seriously “Oh great, it's you again.”

“Excuse me.” Logan asked, he didn’t know the guy in front of him but he looked pissed, “Are you out for round 2 then,” and he realized it was the guy from the morning. “Woah, excuse me,” he narrowed his eye "You collided with me.” The angry look that met him made all the blood in his body pool immediately in his dick. The guy was absolutely his type, little taller than him, slender but strong, tousled brown hair as he sneered at him. He studied Logan’s Team USA jacket and snorted, “Don’t think I am going to allow you to boost Hummel’s chances at gold. I got this in the bag.” and smirked and walked away.

Who was that?

*

“We’re are going to see the figure skating program later today, coming with?”

Logan looked up to find Derek and a bunch of his fellow skiers changed out of their uniform. “I want to practice a few jumps, now that the trails are free,” Logan said as he picked up his snowboard.

“Oh give it a rest.” Derek laughed and clapped him on the back. “We just skied a perfect practice. I can beat you later on the board.”

Logan narrowed his eyes, “You mean like how I beat you yesterday, even after my fall.”

“Sure, whatever." Derek drawled, "plus David here hasn’t stopped whining about seeing his girlfriend and he’s making me miserable. He’s an even worse roommate than you.” he said laughing at their teammate David Sullivan who was ecstatic when his girlfriend made the cut.

“I miss her,” David said and smiled at his phone display that was an image of a smiling girl with long brown and large brown eye.

“Plus there will be girls” Wes piped “And Boys.” chimed Shane, Dear God another Anderson, of the US Ski Team.

*

The break in the practice was actually refreshing and Logan found himself enjoying as his teammates cheered on their fellow teammates, occasionally passing comments if a cute girl skated by.

They were also not alone as Blaine Anderson was out near the rink gazing moodily at his boyfriend who was doing warm-ups in the corner when the Team Great Britain entered in.

“Oh wow, who is that.” Derek eyes glazed and Derek saw him look at a girl in Team GB coat enter the rink and practice skating.

“Casey Scott.” David replied moodily, “Katherine’s frenemy, gold medal hopeful, placed first in the Worlds last year and the Grand Prix.”

”You know a lot about figure skating man.” Derek replied as he watched Casey spin and skate her way around the ice. “Teach me about it. Like what move is that which made her skirt fly up. She looked cute doing it.” and Logan smiled at his best friend’s dopey grin and heart eyes.

“Slow down cowboy, you just learnt her name.”

“Well, we definitely need to put this in use.” Derek tossed something from his pocket at Logan’s face and who reflexively caught it.

“I have my own thank you very much,” Logan smirked and threw it back the Derek who laughed and pocketed it.

“They give them out every single year.” Charlie Amos said from behind him and Logan wondered if the entire US Ski team/snowboarding team was going to show up to watch the US figure skate team participate.

“What are you doing here man?” David and Wes smiled and hugged their friend

“Heard from Shane that we’re all gathering here so I made my way here,” Charlie said and zipped up his coat making himself comfortable.

“I see that the men’s team is next.” Charlie when he noticed Kurt and the others gathering next to the rink entrance.

“Oh man, I hope Blaine plays it cool and not mess up like yesterday,” Shane whispered as he watched his older brother dopily follow his boyfriend everywhere he went.

“Yeah, that’s not going happen.” Wes and David laughed loudly, “Not if Kurt decides to play.”

“What did he do?” Logan laughed and Derek nodded eagerly.

“He was watching Kurt unzip his jacket and he missed a couple of stairs and tripped.” David laughed. “Kurt was to blame, he knew Blaine was watching him so he threw a couple of smirks and saucy winks at him and then Blaine fell.”

“Spectacularly“ Wes laughed, “He didn’t get hurt.” He was in full gym uniform, padding and everything, having not bothered to change, But yeah.”

“But then Kurt made it up to him, several times may I add and loudly.”

“See this why you need to test these soon.” Derek quipped and slapped the condom back into Logan’s hand when Shane whistled next to him. “I think I will take that.” and pocketed the condom from a surprised Logan. “Team GB has just walked in and I think I have died and gone to heaven. There is an actual angel on the rink.”

Logan side-eyed Shane from where he was moonily gazing out on the rink and laughed, the Anderson Brothers were a riot alright and he turned to look out at the rink and his breath got stuck.

Out on the rink right in the middle, a boy was skating perfectly with the music, moving in, moving out, gliding with the flow of the music as he skated gracefully across the ice. He raised an arm up twirled before he took off in jump which had all crowd cheering and Logan staring in admiration. He then landed gently and twirled again and Logan recognized his face immediately.

“It's him.” He jogged Derek’s arm “from yesterday and today.”

“Who is that?.”  Logan said and realized that Shane had asked the same thing. There’s no way he was getting the perfect stranger, he was Logan’s

“Who.” all the guys asked as they watch the two of them.

“Him,” Logan whispered, at boy danced seamlessly with the music, his brunette hair arranged artfully as he raised a hand up and jumped again.

“The cute one, who skates like an angel, like a perfect cherub with wings.” Everyone sighed at Shane’s adjectives and he waved his hand, no his entire body at the little Strawberry blond Team GB skater as he skated across the ice. “He looks like a Botticelli carved angel.” and everyone groaned.

“Reed Van Kamp,” Charlie announced reading from his phone. “Team GB, figure skating.”

“Give me that.” Shane made grabby hands towards Charlie who sighed and handed his phone to Shane who alternated between the staring moonily at the phone and Reed skating.

“The other one is Julian Larson, in case you’re interested.” Derek smiled at his friend softly.

“Julian Larson,” Logan whispered as he tracked the boy skate gracefully across the ice, moving in time with the music, a soft smile on his face. Maybe he has more than just gold to look forward too.

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

I think this is nominally incomplete, but it’s from October and I’m never going to finish it, but I reread it and still enjoy some of the jokes in it so.... I figured other people might get some enjoyment out of it.

Summary: Some defense attorneys, prosecutors, and detectives get together and while drinking make poor conversational choices that vacillate wildly between commiserating over personal trauma and making bad jokes. So, the usual.

-

“You know,” Kay says, frowning in concentration as she attempts to affix a fourth paper umbrella in her hair, “what always bums me out about these big get-togethers is I always start thinking we should play some super-fun drinking games and then I realize that would be terrible, because, like, ‘Never Have I Ever’ always turns into weird sexscepade confessions and that’d be horrible enough if Mr. Edgeworth was just our boss, but he’s like, our dad, so we can’t do that.”

Everyone takes twenty seconds to absorb what she has said. “There are things I don’t want to know about any of you,” Apollo says. “Especially not Mr. Wright.”

“Because he’s our dad,” Athena adds. She is lying on the floor with her chin propped up on her arms. “Also it’d be mean to play drinking games with me here not being able to.” Her glare turns from Phoenix to Simon. “American drinking laws are stupid.”

“You say to a room full of prosecutors and detectives,” Apollo says.

“No no, she’s right,” Klavier says. “I got my badge in Europe and then came back and they would let me stand in court and prosecute a trial but not buy a beer.”

“Franziska complained all the time about that,” Edgeworth says, with a small smile that is almost fond as he contemplates the dregs at the bottom of his wine glass. “In the interest of full disclosure, she complained about everything in America. She still does, actually.”

“I can see why she would,” Athena says. “I liked Germany. I didn’t actually drink a lot there, though.”

“You are smarter than I,” Klavier says. “I lost about a month somewhere in Germany.”

Phoenix coughs and sets down his glass, which is pint-sized but filled with wine. The only condolence for Apollo, and from the expression on his face, Edgeworth as well, is that he isn’t drinking straight from a bottle. “A month?” he repeats incredulously.

Klavier nods. “I had just taken the bar; I had nothing to do but wait for my results. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Not that?” Phoenix asks. He looks somewhere between impressed and horrified, which is strange for Apollo to realize; he can’t usually read his boss’ emotions from his face. “Anything but that?”

Klavier shrugs. “Ja ja, but I never got arrested or woke up anywhere unfamiliar, so I think I did fine.”

“Did you wake up with that horrible accent, though?” Blackquill asks, smirking slightly, and without looking bats Athena’s hand away from his drink.

“Ooh!” Athena says, pushing herself up into a sitting position. “You know, that’s actually happened! There’s been cases where after a traumatic brain injury, a person has recovered to speak with an entirely different accent that they never had before. So you could have--”

“I’m sorry to dampen your excitement, Fraulien, but I have never had any traumatic brain injuries.” Ema mutters something and Klavier, staring at the glass in his hands, says, “Ach, we’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, and I will amend my statement to ‘not that I know’ because Kris could have dropped me down the stairs when we were young and I can never know for sure now, because what I am sure of is that even if the answer is no, if I asked him now, he would say he did.”

“You know, Kay, that this is realistically where ‘Never Have I Ever’ would end up,” Ema says. “The personal trauma shit, like ‘never have I ever had someone close to me turn out to be a murdering bastard.’” She doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes and instead stares at the floor. “Ah shit I can’t even say that. That one’s happened to me too. Fuck it.” She throws her head back and drains a third of her glass.

“Would that be a shot for each murdering bastard, or just one for all of them?” Klavier asks.

“At that point you just start drinking and don’t stop,” Phoenix says without lowering his glass from his lips, apparently taking his own advice.

“Define ‘close’,” Apollo says.

“We’re lawyers,” Sebastian says. “Why don’t we just all argue about the definition and never get anywhere with it?”

“He was your boss,” Klavier says brusquely. “That’s fuckin’ close enough.” The harshness of the words doesn’t match the way Klavier’s weight leans against Apollo’s shoulder or how his hand shakes just slightly, knuckles too white curled around his shot glass.

“Is ‘close’ in this case simply to be understood as figuratively referring to emotional connection,” Blackquill says, “or would a literal meaning as in physical proximity at length apply as well?”

“When you’re splitting hairs like that just join the rest of us in being drunk and depressed,” Ema says.

“Are we actually playing now?” Kay asks. “Because this is like a super fucked up way to play if we are.”

“Let’s not even bother with the ‘never have I ever had someone I loved be murdered’,” Apollo says. He hadn’t wanted to get drunk tonight, and instead just sit back and watch whatever unfolded, but he’s thinking he might want to change those plans.

“Everyone loses on that one,” Kay says, reaching over and gently patting Apollo’s head, which he thinks is a gesture of sympathy as best as she, pink-cheeked with unfocused eyes, can manage. And he thinks he is just tipsy enough that it actually feels like a comfort. “And the grand prize, ‘never have I ever had someone I loved be murdered by someone I was close to’, because that’s like… aw shit that’s me isn’t it.”

“Depending on how you define your proximity to Ms. Yew, or Shih-na, or whatever you should like to call her,” Edgeworth says, and it’s probably not coincidence that he is now finishing off his wine, after Kay has said those words. Everyone knows the story of von Karma.

“Again,” Blackquill says, his chin resting on his hands, his elbows on his knees, “how are we agreeing to define ‘close’ and does it apply retroactively, in that they only came in close literal proximity to you long after they committed the murder of that particular--” This time he is not quick enough to stop Athena from snatching away his glass and draining the contents.

“Gross!” Widget cries, and Athena sets the glass back in front of Blackquill with an expression of profound disgust twisting her features. “What the hell is that, anyway?” she asks.

“You were duly warned,” Blackquill replies.

“No,” Athena says. “You told me it was illegal, not that it was disgusting.”

Phoenix is laughing at her, his glass untouched on the floor for the past minute. Kay raises an eyebrow. “What, the unluckiest man in the world can’t drink to that?”

“I can’t, actually,” he says, “though not for lack of trying on my ex-girlfriend’s part.”

“Is trauma crossing over with sexscepades now?” Ema asks. “I’m gonna need to be super more drunk if it is.”

“Me too,” Apollo says, staring at the empty glass in front of him. He hadn’t wanted to refill. Now he thinks he needs it. Klavier offers him the remains of his drink. Apollo accepts it.

“It was not a… a…” Phoenix props his chin up on his hands. “Well, depends on how you’re defining it, and whether ‘my college girlfriend was actually twins, one of whom was evil and wanted me dead and tried to frame me for murder when her good twin, who’s a sweetheart other than having a dire blind spot where her sister is concerned, spent eight months trying to convince her not to kill me’ counts as such.”

“Wait,” Ema says, reaching for Kay’s drink, as Edgeworth stands and leaves the room, “you were dating both twins, and you thought they were the same person?”

“They fully intended to convince me they were the same person,” Phoenix says. “And it took me six years and an attempt on my best friend’s life to find out otherwise.”

“Why’d she -- they -- whoever -- try to kill Edgeworth?” Sebastian asks.

Phoenix coughs. “Erm -- my other best friend, Maya. It’s a long fucked-up story that’s incoherent enough when I try to tell it sober but it ended with me cross-examining a dead woman and the prosecution indicted on the murder charges that had been leveled against my client.”

“What,” Athena says.

“I was there and can corroborate,” Edgeworth says, reentering with a new glass of wine.

“Wait,” Klavier says. “When was this?”

“It’s…” Phoenix frowns, staring at Edgeworth. “It was February, so… nine years now.”

“Was that prosecutor Coffee Dude?” Klavier asks.

“Coffee dude?” Apollo repeats. Klavier’s accent has been slipping in and out all night but hearing him utter the word dude is still absolutely jarring.

“Eloquent as ever, Gavin-dono,” Blackquill says dryly.

“I don’t remember his name because I was a self-absorbed piece of shit who’d just joined the office but: Eine, I remember the news article, and Zwei, I remember him taking the pot out of the coffee machine in the break room and drinking directly from the pot.”

“Oh yeah that’d be him,” Phoenix says.

Blackquill frowns. “This prosecutor you speak of -- about my height, white hair, blind, and able to be convinced to punch another inmate for the price of half a cup of sludgewater prison coffee?”

“Oh my god,” Phoenix says.

“Simon,” Athena sighs.

“I did not say that it was I who convinced him to do such. For all you know I may have been the victim of the punching. You assume the worst of me, Athena.”

Apollo snorts at that. Phoenix is rolling his eyes and Edgeworth coughs.

“You met him in prison?” Edgeworth asks, sitting back down next to Phoenix. “I suppose you must have, if you know him, because he was arrested in February and you joined the office in -- May?”

“April,” Athena corrects.

“Right when everything went to shit,” Klavier says.

“In February a prosecutor was arraigned on charges of murder; in March, another prosecutor committed murder in the office, and the chairman of the Investigatorial Committee was convicted on counts of murder and forging evidence since he was Chief Prosecutor -- you forget, again, that in no point in our lifetimes has ours been a functioning legal system.”

Something about the way Blackquill says it, and the way that Klavier responds with “Bleh,” makes Apollo think it’s a conversation they’ve had before.

Sebastian is staring at his hands.

“And that’s when Mr. Edgeworth gave up his badge for two days and I fell off a building and got amnesia,” Kay adds. “And then we caused another international incident. Not totally in that order.”

“What,” Apollo says.

“Oh god I remember half of that,” Ema says.

“You left out the part with the assassins,” Sebastian says.

“I’ve always believed if you’re not in court it’s sometimes better to leave out details in the retellings, and nothing here is dissuading me of this notion,” Phoenix says.

“So what did you leave out of your little sexscepade story?” Kay asks

“Kay,” Sebastian says, “I am begging you to stop saying that word. I will pay you.”

“Hey Chief, I think that’s Prosecutor Debeste saying I should get a salary raise.”

Edgeworth places his face in his hands.

“I left out the part where I fell off a bridge, my murderous ex-girlfriend was my best friend’s cousin, and Edgeworth --”

“Continue leaving out any further part of this involving me,” Edgeworth interrupts.

“Fine.”

“Boss, how are you still alive?” Athena asks.

“That’s a case that’s going to go forever unsolved,” Phoenix replies.

“Can we do ‘never have I ever had a near-death experience’?” Athena says. “Or any significant physical injury on the job. How many shots would you have to take for that one, Boss?” Phoenix is muttering under his breath as he starts counting on his fingers. Apollo can’t make out the words but Athena almost immediately objects -- “Wait, did you say tazed?”

“Tazed, blunt force head trauma from a fire extinguisher, fell off a bridge, that one thing from before I was a lawyer doesn’t count because you said ‘on the job’, hit by a car doesn’t really count under that definition either -- I think that’s it.” He stares absently into space. “Actually, no, it was sort of related to the job so in hindsight, add ‘getting smashed with the man who got me disbarred’.”

“Take another shot for tonight, then,” Klavier says.

Phoenix rolls his eyes. “Klavier, shut up,” he says, and Klavier recoils in surprise, blinking a few times. “I mean the one with ill intentions and a penchant for poisoning people. God there’s so many ways that could’ve ended with me dead over a bowl of borscht in that hell restaurant.” His eyes go unfocused staring at some point over Apollo’s head. “You know what’s another one of the super fucked up parts about that?” He doesn’t wait for anyone to ask before he continues, “I don’t even like borscht.”

Klavier coughs, or at least Apollo thinks it’s a cough, but it also sounds like a laugh and a sob intermingled.

“You exasperate me,” Edgeworth says to Phoenix. Phoenix flops over into his lap like a particularly boneless cat.

“Here’s ‘take a shot if your older sibling is or has ever been in jail,” Ema says dryly, emptying her glass and then laying backwards on the floor. “Welcome to the shit club, boys.”

“I think Herr Samurai and I need more alcohol for this one,” Klavier says.

“Then go get us some,” Blackquill says.

“Sometimes I feel like I am the only one doing the work in this relationship,” Klavier says.

Athena chokes on air.

Edgeworth sighs. “You both know what I am going to say.”

The response comes in near-unison from the three other prosecutors and two detectives. “Dollar in the jar!”

[hazelmariewrites]

Ellie

I thought it would be nice to share a piece of work, so here is a short psychological horror story that I wrote my freshman year of college! I’ve come SUCH a long way with my writing since then, but this has always been a favorite of my own work. Maybe I’ll even revisit it someday.

Synopsis: Ellie’s imaginary friends helped her cope with a traumatic childhood. As she gets older, however, their intentions start to seem malicious--and Ellie is easily influenced.

Trigger warnings: Mental illness, murder

"It's unfortunate that we can't talk somewhere more comfortable," said the graying man as he opened his notebook and perched it on his crossed legs, "but everyone's very concerned for your safety."

He was referring to the handcuffs which held my hands together and my legs to the metal chair I was sitting in. The room was cold and the dim light above us flickered as if it could go out at any second. A police officer was by the door, smacking his gum at an irritating volume. Definitely not a comfortable place for me to be recounting my life story.

"My name is Dr. Wright," the man continued. "I'm here to get your side of the story, Ellie. It's important for you to be able to tell it to someone who can understand your state of mind, don't you think?"

My initial response was to feel insulted by the fact that he was, in his shrink sort of way, calling me crazy, but then I realized that I probably was so I nodded my head. With a smile, he clicked his pen and scribbled something down, then pulled some papers out of a manila folder.

"Okay, Ellie, let's go all the way back to when you were a child. I have some files which show that your father was arrested a few times for domestic abuse..." he stopped for a moment to look up and gauge my reaction. I guess I was supposed to be troubled by him bringing this up, but it didn't have an effect on me, so he continued. "What was your childhood like?"

For a while I sat there staring at the wall behind him. He waited patiently for me to begin, but I wasn't sure how. My younger years were all a giant blur, but there was one day in particular that stood out in my memory. So I told him about the only childhood I ever knew.

*

"Damn it, Pam, you're blockin' the TV!" my father yelled as my mother crossed his view of the football game to bring him a beer. He ripped it from her hands, cracked it open, and took a swig without a thank you. My mother hovered next to him for a moment as if she wanted to say something, but ultimately returned to the kitchen without a word.

I was in the corner playing with the knock-off Barbie doll I had gotten a few days earlier for my fourth birthday. She was missing a shoe and it looked like someone had cut a chunk out of her hair. I was too young to realize that my mother had probably fished it out of a dumpster.

My father stood up and wobbled over to the bathroom, and on his way back he stopped in front of me. "Why you playin' with this stupid doll?" he growled, bending over to grab it out of my hands. "Get in the kitchen and help your mother!"

He mocked me when I started to cry, and upon hearing this, my mother emerged from the kitchen. "Keith, what are you doing?" she asked. My father turned to her and pointed a finger in her face.

"You stay out of this Pam, you're the reason our daughter don't know nothin'. She's gonna turn out to be a good for nothin' whore just like her momma!"

My mother started to protest but her words were cut short when my father struck her across the face. I ran to my room but I could still her them yelling, so I climbed under my covers, closed my eyes, and put my hands over my ears.

A few moments later I felt my covers move back. I opened my eyes and saw a girl my age with red hair and freckles. "Sara!" I cried, throwing my arms around her. She hugged me tight with a chuckle.

"What are you hiding from?" she asked. Her eyebrows knitted together as I explained that my parents were fighting again. 

"I ought to teach that dad of yours a thing or two!" came a voice from behind me. I turned around to see my friend Billy had joined us. I laughed at his enthusiasm and gave him a hug. Sara and Billy kept me company until there was a knock at my door.

"Ellie, who were you talking to?" my mother asked as she entered my room. Her face was red and swollen and there was a cut on her lip. Sara and Billy had disappeared.

"I was just singing a song, Momma," I lied. My mother sat down next to me on my bed and put her arm around me. We sat like that for a little while, and then my father called for her and she left.

*

"Sara and Billy were your imaginary friends?" Dr. Wright asked. I nodded.

"Some of them," I said. "There are others."

"Are?"

"Were. I meant to say were."

Dr. Wright raised a brow and scribbled something in his notebook. I swallowed hard and started picking at my cuticles to distract myself from my mistake. Three of my fingers had started to bleed by the time he stopped writing.

"How many?" he finally asked.

"Five," I replied.

"How often did they visit you?"

"They were my only friends." I explained. "They showed up whenever I needed them, from my parents fighting to eating lunch alone at school."

"You saw them at school?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about that."

*

"He's just mad because you're smarter than him," Sara assured me as I stared down at the large number 63 written in red across the top of my latest Biology test. "I'm telling you, all you have to do is threaten to out his little affair with that blonde bimbo in the third row and he'll get off your back."

I rolled my eyes. My eight grade biology teacher, Mr. Goodwin, definitely favored the girl Sara had in mind, but accusing him of an affair was overdramatic. I started walking toward my locker and Sara followed me, insisting on weaving through the students even though she could have passed through them with no trouble. 

"What's that?" Sara asked as we reached my locker. A triangle of pink construction paper was hanging out the bottom, and when I opened the door a heart shaped card fell to the floor. I reached down and picked it up.

"Dear Ellie," it read across the front. I opened it. "You are so beautiful, but I've always been afraid to tell you how I feel. In the spirit of Valentine's Day, would you meet me on the stage of the auditorium after school? Love, Your Secret Admirer."

I looked up at Sara, a smile creeping across my face. She didn't share my enthusiasm.

"Ellie, don't do it," she begged, knocking the card to the floor. "I have a bad feeling about this."

I picked the note back up and placed it carefully in my locker. I promised Sara I wouldn't go, but I did.

The auditorium was pitch black aside from the lone spotlight shining down on the stage. My palms were sweaty and my stomach was flip-flopping all over the place, but I forced myself to make my way over. I couldn't see past the edge of the stage as I stood waiting for my admirer, but I heard a door open and close. My heart thundered in my chest.

"Hello?" I called out. My stomach turned over as I heard laughter. I began to realize that I should have listened to Sara.

"What's the matter, Ellie?" asked a girl's voice. "Have you been stood up?"

I tried my hardest to keep my composure, but as the lights turned on and I saw three girls video taping me, I couldn't stop the tears. Their cameras followed me as I fled the room, and I locked myself in a stall of the nearest bathroom.

A few moments later there was a knock on the stall door. I choked at them to go away through my tears, but a quiet voice revealed that it was Sara so I let her in. She held me until my sobs turned to sniffles, and then she pulled back with a fierce look in her eyes.

"You can't let them get away with this, Ellie," she said.

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked, my cracked voice barely above a whisper. A mischievous smile spread across her face. She opened the stall door to reveal Billy and the rest of my friends waiting with small cardboard boxes. She motioned for me to look inside.

I walked slowly over to one of the boxes and gasped in disgust as I saw what was inside. Cockroaches. I jumped back and looked at Sara in horror.

"What am I supposed to do with those?!" I cried. She walked over to me and put her hands on my shoulders, staring into my eyes with determination.

"You're going to put them in their lockers," she explained. "Just imagine their faces when they go to get their books before first period. And everyone will be there to see! It's going to be great, Ellie, trust me. They'll never mess with you again.”

I shook my head, but she held my gaze. The longer I looked into her eyes, the better the idea seemed. Before I knew it I was breaking into their lockers and laughing along with my friends as we emptied the boxes.

I got to school early the next morning. One by one I heard screaming throughout the halls as they all found their surprises. I was later called into the principal's office, but none of them could explain why they suspected me without admitting what they had done, so my revenge went unpunished. I stayed up late that night laughing with my friends, recounting how well our plan had played out. It was the happiest I had felt in a long time.

*

He asked me about my mother's death next. I explained that the doctors found the cancer too late, and her battle was relatively short. He asked me if I missed her.

"Well, yeah," I answered. "My childhood was rotten, but it wasn't her fault. She tried. And she really did love me." 

He raised his eyebrows. "That's very mature of you."

I shrugged. "I missed her a lot at first especially. Until he got sick, I became my father's new punching bag."

"How did you deal with your father's illness?" he asked. "It must have been hard leaving school to take care of the man who caused you so much pain."

"It was," I admitted. "And I didn't always handle it well."

He asked me to elaborate.

*

"Ellie," my father croaked from his bedroom. I sighed and closed the book I was reading, but waited a moment before I got up to see what he wanted. When I entered his room I was greeted by the loud beeping of his oxygen machine.

"Something's come loose," he said. "The damn thing won't shut up."

Sara appeared at the doorway. She stared blankly at my father as I worked to fix his machine. 

"How can you spend every day of your life taking care of this bastard after everything he's done to you?" she asked, crossing the room until she was watching him from the foot of his bed. I turned to her and tried to think of an answer, but there really wasn't a good one.

"What else am I supposed to do?" I asked her. 

"About what?" my father asked. I ignored him and waited for Sara to respond. She finally tore her eyes away from my father and looked into mine.

"Leave," she said. "Come with us, we'll take care of you!"

My eyebrows knitted together sympathetically. "But you're not real," I reasoned. Her face twisted into an expression of outrage.

"Don't you dare say that!" she screamed. I winced and turned away. My father was watching me carefully.

"You're a damn freak," he declared. "Y'know that?"

"Don't talk to me that way," I warned. He chuckled.

"I'm your father, I can talk to you however I want."

I had so many emotions taking over my mind. I was frustrated that Sara didn't understand why I couldn't leave. She refused to look at me, and it annoyed me and broke my heart at the same time. But above all I was pissed. I was incredulous at my father for having the nerve to talk down to me when I had put up with so much from him, and was now his sole caretaker. Didn't he realize how quickly I could end things for him?

Before I had time to decide whether or not it was a good idea, I was unplugging my father's oxygen machine. Its usual hum disappeared and my father began to choke.

"E-Ell-W-Wha," he sputtered, unable to form even a word. I looked over at Sara, who wore a satisfied smirk on her face, then looked back at my father. I watched him squirm for a few more moments before plugging his machine back in. He gasped a few times, his wide eyes searching my face for some sort of explanation.

"Never disrespect me again," I demanded. "Understand?"

He nodded, and I followed Sara out of the room.

*

"How did you feel about your reaction once you had time to reflect on it?" Dr. Wright asked in typical shrink fashion. "Were you frightened by it at all? Guilted?"

"I felt good about it," I replied. "I was glad to finally see him put in his place."

Dr. Wright nodded thoughtfully. I noticed that the officer by the door had fallen asleep, so before he had a chance to ask his next question I decided to tell him something I had been keeping from the police.

"My father had been dead for a couple of days before I called anyone." I said. Dr. Wright nodded quizzically at me.

"Yes, it says that here in my notes," he said. "You were out of town with a friend, right?"

"No," I replied, chewing the inside of my cheek anxiously. "I wasn't out of town."

He pulled out his notebook, of course, and started taking notes. I continued as he wrote.

"He woke me up one night calling my name. I don't know why, but I just couldn't find it in me to get up and check on him. I went back to sleep and when I woke up the next morning he was dead. It was shocking, but honestly it was a relief. I'm not sure what kept me from reporting it, but for the next two days I just pretended he wasn't there. It was very relaxing."

Dr. Wright scribbled away at his quickest pace yet. Then, as an afterthought, he turned back to see why the officer hadn't reacted to my news. I expected him to wake the officer and make me repeat it, but he didn't. He took a deep breath and turned back to me.

"Where was Sara during all this?" he asked. 

"Around," I answered. I thought he'd push for details, but once again he defied my expectations. Instead he dug out some papers.

"You started working at Holbrook National Bank not long after your father's death, am I correct?"

A chill ran down my spine and my palms began to sweat. I nodded, knowing where his question was leading. We were coming to the end.

"Is that how you came to know the deceased?"

*

"Excuse me, miss, I'm new in town and I'm looking to open a checking account here."

I looked away from my computer and saw a tall, lean man whose short black hair was speckled with gray here and there. There were wrinkles at the outer corners of his eyes, as if he had smiled a lot in his lifetime. The wrinkles deepened as he smiled at me with perfect teeth, and I felt my heart jump into my throat.

"Oh, Jeanie can help you with that," I told him, my finger shaking slightly as I pointed to an office at the end of the lobby. He kept his eyes on me rather than following my finger.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said. I felt my face turn pink as he laughed and winked, then made his way to Jeanie's office.

For the next two months the man came to my window every Thursday. I learned that his name was Scott and that he had moved into town because of a business opportunity that arose just after his divorce was finalized. He had a young daughter, Rose, who he saw every other weekend. 

Scott's charm never ceased to disarm me, so when he showed up one Thursday with a small bouquet of roses and asked if I was free for dinner the next night, I almost forgot how to say “yes.” But I figured it out.

My friends weren't happy when they heard the news. They mostly pouted, but Sara was adamant on getting me to change my mind.

"You barely know him!" she argued. "He's fifteen years older than you! Plus, just went through a divorce, so he's not going to be settling down with anyone anytime soon. He's probably handing out flowers to girls all over town!"

"Sara, stop," I said firmly, "I'm an adult now and I'm through letting you make my decisions for me. You're not going to talk me out of this just because you're jealous that I'm finally getting along with a real person."

Sara didn't respond to this. She disappeared for the rest of the evening, and for the next few weeks I only caught glimpses of my old friends. When I saw them they were huddled together, as if planning something. I should have suspected something, but things were going well with Scott and I was glad to finally have a sense of normalcy. I was too old for imaginary friends anyway.

By the time Scott and I had been dating long enough for him to want me to meet his daughter I hadn't seen my friends for over a month. I felt normal for the first time in my adult life. I was excited to be taking such a big step in my relationship, and to finally have people in my life that my mind hadn't fabricated.

The night before I was to meet Rose I was feeling very upbeat, so I decided to surprise Scott at  his house with takeout from his favorite Chinese restaurant. I used the spare key he kept under his doormat to get in. I called out to him, but there was no response. I began to worry that he may have gone to bed early.

I put the food down on his kitchen table, and as I walked up the stairs I saw a dim light pouring through the cracked opening of his bedroom door. I opened it just wide enough to see Scott sitting against his bed frame, reading by the light of his bedside lamp.

"Hey handsome, didn't you hear me?" I whispered, not wanting to startle him too badly. His expression was one of shock despite my hushed tone.

"Ellie, what are you doing here?" he asked. I just smiled and walked into the room, but my smile faded quickly as the rest of his bed came into my view. Lying next to him was a sleeping mess of red curls and black lingerie.

My mouth dropped. Sara was right: I wasn't the only pretty young thing in Scott's life. I stared at him in disbelief as he put his book down and asked me once again what I was doing at his house. No apology, not even a recognition of the fact that I had just caught him in bed with another woman. I felt adrenaline searing through my body, and my hands started to shake.

"How could you?!" I cried.

"How could I what?" he responded. I clinched my fists and charged at him. He blocked my blows and tried to restrain me, so I grabbed his lamp and crashed it over his head. He stopped fighting immediately, but I kept attacking.

Each time I brought the lamp down on his head his face changed. He became my father, the kids at school, and everyone else  who had ever done me wrong. Eventually the lamp broke to the point that I had nothing left to bring down onto him.

The red head started to laugh. With the lamp broken I had no way of seeing, so I lunged over Scott's body in the general direction of her laughter. I was surprised to land on the mattress. There was nothing there. The sound of her laughter seemed to have moved to the other side of the room. I started toward it, but stopped dead in my tracks when I heard a second source of laughter, then a third, and then more until I couldn't tell how many there were.

I felt the walls until I found the light switch, and when I flipped it on I found my friends all standing next to Scott. Sara was a few steps in front of the rest, sporting black lingerie.

"Hey, old friend," she said. "We missed you."

*

Dr. Wright was satisfied with the information he gathered. He told me he would relay it all to my court appointed lawyer, who should then have no trouble putting together an insanity plea. He said all of this as though it should be happy news.

"What's wrong with me?" I asked, fighting back tears. I hated myself for what I had done. I hated that I let my childish coping mechanisms get out of control. I hated that I would never be normal. Dr. Wright sighed.

"There are a number of disorders that involve your symptoms," he said, "but I'll need more time to give you an official diagnosis. What's important is that they're gone. You said you don't see them anymore, correct?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but then Sara stepped out from the darkened corner where she had been listening in secret all along. She stared me down until I was too afraid to speak, so I nodded my head. The now-conscious police officer escorted me back to my cell where the rest of my friends were waiting.

[ladyloveandjustice]

The Great Ace Attorney Replay, Apollo Justice Case 2 Part 1

This is also from chatting w/ my gf but she was asleep for the first part so its basically just me talking. endlessly. Again she claims she enjoys this so.

I'll play a little of the second case...oh right they're a talent agency right now. Trucy, Phoenix's adopted daughter, is a magician. She's cute. And also in charge of the business. She's the main source of income for their household at 15. u go girl

Phoenix got hit by a car and went headfirst into a telephone pole but somehow only sprained his ankle. Now we gotta go visit him in the hospital.

wow that is way more Steel samurai dvds than I remember how is Maya affording all this. Oh, it's all the different series there have been like 12 or something by now apparently.

Phoenix: a "kid" I know keeps sending them to me. 

Apollo: "Like a niece or nephew?" 

Phoenix: "...something like that". 

Apollo thinks he's talking about an actual child and is very confused.

More Steel Samurai.

 "...I didn't know you were into this stuff, Mr. Wright."

 Phoenix: "Well, what else is there to do when you're stuck in bed? They'll just keep piling up if I don't watch them. Now's the only time I get to watch and write my reports."

 Apollo: "...reports?" 

Phoenix: It's a long story. Like a lot of things.

omg is Maya making him write essays to her about the episodes she sends him and he's doing it. That's adorable I completely forgot about this.

Phoenix is basically liveblogging his reactions to the Steel Samurai for Maya just like I'm doing to you. we're so connected right now.

I showed Nick my badge and he was like "huh what is that thing" shut the fuck up Nick we know you're being a troll.

Even Apollo called bullshit on that "there's absolutely no way you don't recognize that" "gosh not really it's just been too long i guess"

This game is easy to chatblog to you bc i don’t really care about the plot or anything happening in it all that much, i just care about little things like this. Phoenix being pushed to the point of legitimately being bitter and kinda like "fuck it" is interesting and I'm probably going to mostly pay attention to that situation. Also Trucy and Ema when she shows up, they're both great.

I mean, i like Apollo, he’s good, but the game isn't really about him at all? It's sad because it's supposed to be his game but...it isn't. I mean Phoenix's games were pretty other-character focused but they are people he has strong emotional connections to and how they factor into his life, shaped who he is, and how he helps them and finds out what he can do in the process. There's nothing like that for Apollo in this game, he's just sort of swept along by events that have more to do with Phoenix.

Other games are better about that though. The sixth game that just came out was essentially his game even though Phoenix was in it a lot and gave him a storyline and character arc. So he's not a neglected character now (there are female characters in the series that are way more neglected so fandom whining about his treatment makes me roll my eyes) or anything,it's just this game. being kind of shitty.

So he's really the least interesting part of his own game, just because the game doesn't even focus on him. u don't know why he became a lawyer, what drives him, etc. Later games had to actually have to make that up and give him backstory. It's just kind of hilarious the game actually NAMED for him didn't bother.

So if my chats are more like about other characters, that's why. not just bc you'd be more familiar with them, this game in general is just...seeing how things changed in the timeskip, how people are coping etc is legit more interesting than what's actually going on.

I think Phoenix is dealing with being sad entirely by telling bad jokes constantly and having zero filter on his sarcasm. I feel that.

There is stuff all over his bed. I feel that too. He's not even putting DVDs back in their cases. When this is pointed out he's all "i was actually raised in a barn. don't let word get out, Apollo."

Luci: lool

Caitlin: "Yeah it might ruin your illustrious career of pretending to play the piano" RUDE, Apollo. He ALSO plays poker which is a lot like being in court somehow. according to him. It's a full career.

For all I know he was raised in a barn. we never find out anything about his family. he may have just sprung into existence one day.

omg, Phoenix is all like "if you don't help us Apollo we wont be able to pay our rent or for food.. There's only two people in our talent agency so if one falls the whole thing goes it's symbiotic." PROBABLY THEY'LL BOTH DIE, APOLLO, ARE YOU OKAY WITH THAT.

Luci: is apollo stuck with murder cases for his first trails also

Caitlin: Yes.

Luci: of course

Caitlin; "this isn't an appropriate conversation to be having with your fifteen year old" Oh, but if Trucy's living with Phoenix she has to know dying in poverty is a constant possibility. She's also probably the most together one here.

Phoenix is like "maybe you can find the guy who hit me" and Apollo's like "I'm a lawyer not a detective?" Okay Apollo but if you're going to be in these games you have to realize they are basically the same thing.

Luci: dont worry you dont really "investigate"

its more like breaking and entering, stealing, tampering with a crime scene

that sort of stuff

Caitlin: Now Phoenix is describing the hit and run 

"Someone just tried to run me over and then drove away, pretty creepy right?" 

"Almost as creepy as you talking about it like it's not a big deal." 

He's been through a lot, Apollo. Attempted murder is just part of life in Ace Attorney land you get used to it.

"Anyway here's where the ~tragedy~ took place" Phoenix jesus christ someone trying to kill you is not funny. The *tells uncomfortable jokes" bit for hobo Phoenix in the "tag urself which Phoenix are you meme" is even more accurate than I remembered.

oh I remember this part. FUN WITH LOCALIZATIONS. So our client is a "noodle stand" guy- and in the original Japanese of course Maya and Nick would always be hitting up the ramen stand and the implication is it was this guy's, especially since he says "he and his assistant used to come by a lot in his attorney days"

but in the localization it was always burgers so that comment just comes out of nowehere

the walls are breaking down

[yahoo-big-league-stew-blog]

Mets fan attends her first game at age 101

Do you remember the first baseball game you ever attended? You can probably recall some details vividly, while others slip your mind. Fandom develops fairly early, so you most likely went to your first game at a young age. You can’t be blamed if you cared more about cotton candy than you did about John Candelaria.

That’s not going to be the case with 101-year-old New York Mets fan Rudal “Rudy” Ahlen. She attended her first-ever Mets game in person Thursday, and the team made sure it was a memory she’ll never forget.

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Ahlen got to hang out with a few Mets players before sitting in the first row behind home plate, according to Newsday. She seemed to enjoy the experience.

“This is a big thing for me; I just still can’t believe all this is happening,” she said after getting to meet Lucas Duda, David Wright and Jacob deGrom and before being escorted to the first row behind home plate in the Wilpon family’s seats.

“Nothing like this ever happened when I was younger. Why did it have to happen now when I’m older? Now I’m 102 next month, so I figured this is my birthday present . . . It’ll do. I’m satisfied.”

Mets fan Rudal Ahlen went to first game at 101 years old. (@NewsdaySports)

The Newsday profile, which is excellent, explains that Ahlen has always been a huge sports fan. She rooted for the Brooklyn Dodgers until they left, and adopted the Mets in 1962, the first year of their existence. She’s pretty dedicated too, saying she never considered being a New York Yankees fan and even playing in a co-ed senior league when she was 65.

So, why did she wait so long to attend her first game?

“Because I couldn’t afford it,” she said. “And I was raising eight children . . . I didn’t have the time or money, so I couldn’t go. I was satisfied with the radio, until television came.”

Though the Mets lost 2-1, it was still quite the eventful game. The contest featured a controversial call in the top of the fourth inning when Wilmer Flores collided with a bat boy while attempting to catch a ball in foul territory. The play was initially ruled interference on the bat boy, but overturned by the umps. That decision led to manager Terry Collins being ejected. The Mets managed to overcome the call, inducing a double-play ground out to get out of trouble.

On top of that, it was the first time Mr. Met showed his face, and his finger, since Wednesday’s video that showed him flipping off a fan.

Overall, Ahlen enjoyed herself, but thinks she’ll stick to watching games at home for now.

“It was overwhelming,” she said. “Between the players and the excitement, it was too much for me. I guess I’m really old. I can’t take all this stuff.”

It took Ahlen one game at the park to sum up the entire existence of Mets fans in just a few sentences. Watching Terry Collins manage in person will do that.

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Chris Cwik is a writer for Big League Stew on Yahoo Sports. Have a tip? Email him at christophercwik@yahoo.com or follow him on Twitter! Follow @Chris_Cwik