#my brain gets a kick out of knowing things. especially math.

[simplydnp]

What inspired u to get a degree in math just curious now :) :0

i've always been really good at math. for some reason, it comes extremely naturally to me. i chalk it up to genes and also my environment. i was fortunate enough to have 2 very present parents in my life that really valued education, so not only was i reading at an early age, but any time we travelled, we would do math flashcards in the car.

i was told that university courses would be difficult, so i braced for math to get harder. but it never really did. like yes, i had to do homework and study for tests, but i never had to work to understand something, it always just clicked. i think i'm simply hardwired for math. and i really love it. it makes so much sense to me, and it's almost beautiful the way a lot of complex mathematics works. it's like you're tapped into the universe and it's speaking about the mysteries of existence, and you learn to listen and speak back.

[oatmealdaydreams]

Y'all wanted the lore, so here ya go!

@localcanadiancreature62 tagged as requested

These are both variations of the Timestuck AU, so keep that in mind. Made these two AUs yesterday in the same hour of each other because I have brainrot and there's this really good timestuck fic I've been reading that got my brain rolling (Stan Overboard by itS_JuSt_a_thought on ao3).

Teen Dreams AU

Teen Ford ends up in 2013 with old Stan. Old Ford ends up with teen Stan in the early 1970s. The teen twins are from about a year after the science fair incident; so, teen Stan is a year into being homeless & teen Ford is a year into being in Backupsmore. No one knows how the fuck the Fords swapped places in time, but they need to get them back to their own timelines. This is all about two weeks before their birthday. Old Stan gets to see how teen Ford genuinely missed him back then. Old Ford gets a little glimpse of how teen Stan's situation was for him (this is during Stan's salesman days, think around the time he got banned from New Jersey and is heading to Pennsylvania). Teen Stan learns how much Ford cares about him and is protective of him, and he learns how to let someone else take care of him for a change. Teen Ford learns how much Stan truly cares about him and never meant to actually hurt him, which helps makes his grudge look pretty stupid in the long-run. Might have some 13 yrs old Dipper & Mabel help out in 2013. Would be interesting for teen Ford is get to know his future twin niblings & also talk about them to teen Stan when he gets back to his own timeline. PLENTY of moving parts via angst and hurt/comfort and the idea of Stan & Ford's inner-teen getting healed a bit.

Teenage Challenges AU [may change the name later, idk]

This one is the longer thought-out au, so buckle in! 13 yrs old Mabel and Dipper end up back in time with teen Stan Twins. Early 1970s an entire year after the science fair incident & Stan getting kicked out. Dipper ends up with Stan, and Mabel ends up with Ford & college Fiddleford. Fiddleford is about a year older than Ford because I say so. Their dymanics with their future niblings are more like older siblings and younger siblings than uncles and nibling because of being closer in age. Reminder that everyone is still in their teen years. The young Stan twins are between 18-19, and Fiddleford is about 19-20. So, in this context, there's like a 5-6 year age difference between the Stan twins & Mabel and Dipper. ANYWAY: Stan thinks Dipper is some homeless kid and he can't just leave him on the street in the cold, especially not when he kinda reminds him of his brother. Dipper mentions just wanting to get back to his twin sister, and well that's hits Stan's heart because that sounds a bit like himself in regard to loyalty to family. On the other side of things, Mabel has this very broken Time Tape she needs to fix to get back home. She mentions needing to find her twin brother, and with the fact that she reminds Ford of his time's Stan, well he's conflicted with feelings but he does his best to help her anyway. Fiddleford and Mabel get along quite well, especially when Mabel suggests a few ideas for his death bots that he "may never use but keeps the blueprints for because he may snap one day" & Fiddleford thinks her ideas are genius. Ford starts to see a little of himself in Mabel with her optimistic outlook when it comes to discovery and circumstances. She's also pretty good at certain math stuff and Ford admires her intellect. There's so much more with this, but this is so long already.

There, it's a post now. Have fun! And if anyone wants to write something or draw something for these, feel free to do so! All I ask is that you tag me 'cause I wanna see it :D

[indelen]

It’s tragic backstory hours so I’m fortifying myself with a chocolate loaf!

This is my reread of the Lockwood and Co. Books, organized by @blue-boxes-magic-and-tea, I'll make a general summary of several chapters and then post bits and pieces that jumped out at me.

Part II, Chapters 5-6:

I think it’s significant that Lucy comes from the north of England specifically. Northern England got the bad end of the stick multiple times in English history. The area was razed to the ground and starved viciously during the conquest of William the Conqueror. It was raided by Vikings. It suffered during England’s wars with Scotland. It’s a part of UK that saw a lot of violence and poverty. It has a lot of industries like mining, smelting, etc. and that means coal and factory towns and all the economic issues that come from them. A lot of hard, low wage jobs that are the first to go when the economy downturns or society changes. North of England was the worst hit my Margaret Thatcher’s policies and by austerity measures during the mid-2000s economic crisis. Knowing all that and from what Lucy tells us of living in Cheviot Hills we can guess that while life for people and especially kids sucks in London, it sucks a lot worse outside out it. North England post war had a lot of mines and factories with multiple shifts and late work hours. When The Problem kicked off and the curfew was enacted probably only the very wealthy owners could afford to make changes that would keep their factories running and there were probably massive layoffs. So the financial burden was shifted onto children and there are no competing agencies who try to poach the best kids here, just washouts like Jacobs who run The One Agency that’s your only option. If you’re born in that one town with Talent you’re stuck going to that one washout guy. And you don’t see the point in moving because the next town probably just has some other washout guy.

In the context of all this Lucy running away was an act of extraordinary risk, and yet you get it, because continuing working for Jacobs was both her only option and unbearable. She tried giving evidence against him at the trial and he was the only person who could complete her certification. This negligent alcoholic had untold amount of power over her and the law was on his side.

Odds and Ends:

The way Lucy consistently tries to be detached from this part of her life is so heartbreaking. She knew these kids from age of 8 to age of 13. She tries to separate herself from the horror of it all but the damage is so very much there.

Lucy simply wasn’t educated and apparently many children in this universe are not. Children’s brains until the age of about 8 can only focus on learning things one at a time. It’s why some kids pick up skills earlier or later than others. Something has to come first and the order of how the rest stacks up is different for every child. The ability to learn in parallel develops later and this is where proper education of multiple subjects really starts. In North America this is about Grade 3 level. That doesn’t mean the time before this is wasted, since that’s when you learn the basics of reading, writing and math but also things like social play, following instructions of authority figures, measuring time, adhering to a schedule and the general flow of whatever school system you have. But, in this universe this is all they teach agents! they teach just enough to make them obedient and no more. They learn to follow orders, read to do what they’re told, complete basic tasks, but nothing else. This is a world the people who do the most dangerous job are given no analytical or critical thinking education and if you display any independently, you’re told to shut up and die for your country like a good little soldier.

The most "this was definitely written by Anthony Lockwood"-ass ad imaginable. Spare a thought for poor Lucy alone and low on funds in a new metropolitan city trying to find a photo atelier for a portrait to staple to an application.

Lucy is often mean, but let the record state George fucking started it with her. Sir, she made an appointment and sent an application and presumably a photo. You know she's not Arif's girl. You're just crashing from a lack of snackies and are cranky.

Remember kids, always good to ask what happened to the guy you're replacing in any given interview!

Hang this dialogue in the Louvre, i don't care how

Now girl that's no way to talk about your future husband. But also, what I kind of love about this is that Lockwood is obviously conflicted here because her realizes Lucy quite literally too good to be true. She's obviously the most Talented person to ever apply for any position with them. And yet if she's really that powerful why hasn't another bigger agency scooped per up? He senses that there is some flaw, some lie beyond the fact that she doesn't have a reference. He extends her an offer and gives her a chance because she seems like a good fit and it's too good an opportunity to pass up, but he's not foolish or naive about this either. It's why for all his flaws he is a good agency leader.

RIP beloved "biscuit rule" slain in battle with a US publishing editor whose hands grow out their ass and who thinks brittle North American teenage brains will crack at the mere mention of certain British terms and idioms.

Lucy describes Lockwood's smile count: 5

[scarlet-witchery]

You don’t get how bad I need your fem!gallavich headcanons 😭😭 (that being said pls - with no pressure - share some 🙏🙏🙏)

OKAY DON'T WORRY I'VE GOT A LOT OF THEM TO SHARE WITH YOU I HOPE YOU'RE READY FOR SOME GOOD WLW FEM!GALLAVICH FEELS (these may be a little all over the place but just roll with me here okay? okay here we go)

to start with, Ian is a nickname for Lillian, Mickey is a nickname for Mykhaila (Ukrainian feminine form of Mikhailo)—they'd still go by Ian and Mickey, because if Lip can be a nickname for Phillip then all bets are fucking off :p

technically all of this started with my brain going "lesbian gallavich with hella self image issues" because they don't feel like they can measure up to their "prettier" sister (Mandy and Fiona) but both of them thinking the other is gorgeous as hell. Mickey being kind of a femme/butch (which is why she's the one who calls the shots with her brothers, she's the tomboy compared to Mandy), and Ian wanting to be all pretty and femme but doesn't think there's a point to it because money and also she doesn't think highly of herself

things would be way different for them both as lesbians—Ian would definitely still be the forgotten middle child, although she and Lip would still be Fiona's backup ("you two are my rocks") because I refuse to believe that girl Ian wouldn't be just as committed to ROTC and fitness as canon Ian. She'd be able to kick anyone's ass any day of the week. I think she'd really look up to Lip and ofc he'd love Ian as his little sister but like, with the same kind of condescending vibe he gives Fiona and Debbie? Although maybe since they're practically twins his misogyny toward Ian wouldn't be as blatant.

she'd still be taller than him (tallest Gallagher no matter what!) and have long red hair that she just throws back in a bun or ponytail all military style. I can't see her having short hair just because short cuts can be a lot to maintain, better just to let it grow and keep it pulled back. (I know, I've thought way too much about the little stuff lol)

Mickey would be very punk. With an undercut and all kinds of piercings. Mandy gets more attention from boys but Mickey does get her share, although of course she's like blegh. She'd rather be kicking ass and taking names and proving to her dad that she's just as good at being a fuckin Milkovich as Iggy and Colin—she's got more brains than both of them combined and she's smart as a whip when it comes to doing math, as well as where scamming people is concerned. Terry would begrudgingly acknowledge this but never misses a chance to put her down because she's just another dumb bitch. Only serves to make Mickey more determined to show what she can do, though, and her brothers and cousins are no match for her when it comes to scrappy back alley fighting. She climbed to the top of the heap early on and punches out anyone who tries to take her on.

Ian absolutely falls in the lesbian stereotype of wearing flannel constantly. I feel like she would want to do girly sorts of things but like, doesn't feel she'd measure up to Fiona or other girls so she just sticks with "comfortable" as her main fashion staple. Her and Debbie probably share a room too, although as I said above, she's still super close with Lip. Debbie would ADORE her big sister, would look up to and admire Ian because they've got so much in common—it might even be that she finds Ian's lesbian porn and that's how she knows about it ("penetration isn't required for sex to occur").

I'm not sure how they'd meet in this au but it would still probably involve Mickey chasing Ian around trying to beat her up lmao. my original thought was maybe like, either Mickey chased after Ian because of something Lip did in a reverse of canon, or Mandy thought Ian was talking shit about her. Regardless, the idea of 5'1" Mickey chasing after 5'9" Ian is hilarious especially because I feel like Ian would end up being almost six foot tall by the time she's done with puberty.

even once Ian and Mandy end up being bffs (there'd definitely be some miscommunication, but Ian doesn't wanna get murdered by the Milkovich siblings, so she manages to clear the air with Mandy when she can get away from Mickey and their brothers), Ian probably wouldn't tell Mandy she's gay, gotta keep that shit on lock. So once they're besties she's gotta endure all the boy talk and be like oh haha yeah totally…but at some point Mandy would figure it out, probably because she's not dumb and also Ian "play what cool" Gallagher is not as subtle as she thinks she is. But Mandy, other than asking if Ian has the hots for her ("you're beautiful, but I like you better as my friend"), is actually pretty chill and realizes she doesn't actually mind hanging out with a lesbo. Yes, Ian and Mandy and Mickey would use all the derogatory slurs that get used towards lesbians, although Ian is used to the casual homophobia and Mickey is the most homophobic gay ever (I feel like she'd definitely call herself a fag and a dyke once she gets more comfortable in her identity).

idk how the whole grooming thing with Kash and Ned would transfer over—maybe Ned would be some rich lesbian cougar who wants a kept girl or something. But that's unfortunately a big part of Ian's character, the middle kid who's the only one to be physically abused (and yeah, Frank would still hit Ian, boy or girl), and is desperate for any kind of affection so attaches to anyone who gives it. Kash might be a (seemingly) meek wife to some bruiser of a husband who's short and has small dog syndrome, and that makes her sympathetic in Ian's eyes, thus making it easier for her to take advantage of Ian. I try not to think about Kash too much but it is an important part of Ian's self-image

I'm gonna talk about s3 in its own post because I have some Thoughts and Ideas for some changes to make things interesting :p

season 4 would be really even more depressing because I think that when Ian is manic (there'd be no running away to the army because she couldn't use Lip's identity; instead she'd go straight her sugar mama and from there calls Monica when things get too wild) she'd end up getting pimped out by Monica to really gross straight dudes—not that there aren't creeper lesbians who like younger women, but in general it'd be easier for her to find a job stripping at a regular club (lesbian bars don't seem to have the same opportunities as a straight bar or a men's gay bar do wrt making money). Poor Lip and Debbie finding her in the skimpiest outfit, worse than anything Fiona ever had to wear for a job, with way too much makeup on and dollar bills tucked in her underwear, coked out as hell, skinny enough you can see her hipbones, brain and mouth going about 300 miles a minute...ugh.

But Mickey coming and bringing her home safe and sound <3 beating up the skeevy guys trying to roofie her <33 watching over Ian while she sleeps <333

In a happier train of thought, I love the idea that Mickey really likes Ian's long hair and plays with it when she's not really thinking and Ian gets all 😍😍😍 because it means Mickey might like her omg. Mickey has a partial undercut and Ian loves the texture of the shaved part of her hair. Tells her not to let it grow back out and everything.

Mickey having to stand on her tiptoes to kiss her stupidly tall gf ("You're too tall, Red" "Complain all you want, Mick, you know you like it”). Mickey likes getting manhandled but only by Ian—anyone else tries it and they're losing a hand. But Ian shoves her against a wall and does her whole cocky, smug, looming thing and Mickey can't help but melt in her arms (not that she'd let Ian know about it, not at first; gotta make Gallagher work for that shit. Just cause she's a fag doesn't mean that she's anyone's bitch!).

I also like to think that Ian would try the super femme thing in s4 era and Mickey, once out, would be a little more comfortable being more butch, but they both come off as a mix? I just love the idea of fem!gallavich playing with gender stuff in that very specific lesbian relationship with gender—on one of Mickey's more butch days Ian jokes and calling Mickey her boyfriend and Mickey being like oh

personally I feel like Mickey in her dyke era (s5) is an absolute pint-sized powerhouse, and still an absolute fashion icon because those cut-off vests? the tank tops? perfection🤌🏻

most of my thoughts are of early gallavich because I think things would go much differently since Sammi can't call the MPs on Ian in this au, but lemme just say that there's some fun stuff I'll be adding in another ask to add to the DRAMA

[myrmyrtheorca]

give me your favorite manga or anime of all time. NOW. like, the ones who changed you as a person. if you are okay with questions like that!

HELLO HI I RISE FROM THE GRAVE FOR THIS INCREDIBLE YAPPING OPPORTUNITY

fr tho thank you Lottie for asking me too despite my death apparent, this will be long, I'll put the honorable mentions first as to make it a little more interesting and KHR will be at the bottom for the same reason-

Honorable mentions!

Sailor Moon - love myself some female friendship and magical girls. And women who could kick my ass like Pluto.

Black Rock Shooter - as above, plus vague setting and cool transformations.

Fate series - ok hear me out. I haven't watched the anime and just started the VN, I mostly play the mobile game, but it's about history and there's cute girls in it. Peak.

The Vision of Escaflowne - COOL MECHAS (hasn't finished it)

Yuru Camp - CUTE GIRLS FRIENDHIP AND COZYNESS also relaxing music (hasn't finished it)

Serial Experiments Lain - what the fuck was that

Violet Evergarden - tears? tears in my eyes? stop???

Dungeon Food - I'd have put this above if I wasn't just at the second volume of it, holy shit this is so fun but I feel it will crush my soul soon

Neon Genesis Evangelion

Ah. Lord, NGE. The vagueness of its worldbuilding, the psychological aspects, the occult and religious simbology, and the GODDAMN MUSIC. If you like classical, epic and otherwordly music, I beg you to check out NGE's score even if you're not interested in the anime itself because Shiro Sagisu is a gift from the gods and one of the best composers of our time. The series is a masterpiece. People despise the movies but IMO they do exactly what a movie should do: entertain. Anno embraced the "I'll be cringe, but I'll be free" and went all out on them, as he should have. Also, there's Kaworu Nagisa. Look at him!

Steins;Gate

PLEASE. PLEASE DO AND DON'T DO THIS TO YOURSELF AT THE SAME TIME. I WAS NOT READY. This anime will take your heart, embrace it, warm it up, GRIP IT IN ITS HANDS, CHEW IT AND SPIT IT OUT. Admittedly I played the VN because I wanted to experience all endings and OH MY GOD. It's terrifying and emotionally damaging. I started playing the sequel (Steins;Gate 0) and I had to STOP because it's so gut-wrenching in all the good ways that I need to be in the right spot for it.

Bleach

talk about recent experiences. I live under a rock when it comes to popular anime most times, and I never had the occasion to watch Bleach until recently (still haven't technically finished it because I'm waiting for TYBW to finish releasing to watch it). I... don't know what it is about Bleach that I like so much, but it got me in a similar way to KHR, as in I think about it often against my will and I'm even considering creating an OC for it. I think it's the characters, because the story is pretty straightforward... yeah, yeah it's the fictional men again. Kubo makes handsome men who fight with swords and transformation and everyone has their own powerups and...hhhngh. Look at this batch of cookies.

Ah no, wait, there's Shiro Sagisu again as composer. Almost forgot. *dances aggessively to spanish guitars*

Dr. Stone

I'm not a science brain, totally the opposite. Math doesn't math, geometry is evil and chemistry is wizardry. BUT, I love things that TRY to teach me those things in a funny and accessible way. I still won't understand them, but it was fun trying! And Dr. Stone has that, it's the moment I realize I like it when things are explained to me in that way, especially through media. Plus, fun characters, emotional moments, and cool plot.

Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Fortunately or unfortunately depending on your opinion on the show, KHR was the first ever japanese piece of media (excluding videogames) I've ever consumed. Being a lonely and socially awkward human being, it soon became my personality. It was these fuckers who made me get into manga altogether, I started buying the volumes (but only up to Varia Arc because 1. I didn't have an allowance, everything was done with Christmas/Easter/birthday money and 2. I was so obsessed with the Varia that my goldfish brain lost interest mid Future Arc.) and from there I discovered the pleasure of physical copies. The show has never aired in Italy, so nobody knew what the fuck I was talking about. It was, as many others were for me, a very lonely experience. But it was also the first time I felt... unique? Like, "this is my special little treasure and nobody can take it from me" kinda thing. I was emotionally invested in this show and every small piece of merch I could find like my Varia character songs CD became some of my most prized possessions (UNTIL I STARTED GIFTING AWAY MY SET OF VONGOLA RINGS BECAUSE I WANTED TO BRIBE PEOPLE INTO LIKING THE SHOW) (YEAH THAT WAS. STUPID. BECAUSE IT OBVIOUSLY DIDN'T WORK. AND ONLY MADE ME FEEL MORE LONELY AND RINGLESS) Then, the falling off. I started playing an MMO that also shaped part of my personality and as you often do with things that remind you of lonelier times, I sold my volumes and stopped thinking of KHR... until recently, when I joined this fandom and the spark came back because fuck it I'll be cringe but I'll be free. I got my fair share of flack for hyperfixating on an old anime at 24 years old, but it's one of the best experiences I've ever had. So yeah. KHR was ultimately good for me.

[gothicwidowsworld]

First kiss M.A

Warning: literally based of my first kiss experience, yes i know its embarrassing but also fucking hilarious also couldn’t find a gif from the episode i wanted so have this instead :)

“I… I don’t understand how I keep getting roped into this shit.” the y/h/c young woman grumbled loudly taking a sip of some leftover French chardonnay. The chardonnay had been an unexpected but welcomed surprise, after complaining a few episodes ago about the sheer amount of reds that were featured the wannabe sommelier Clément Novalak made sure to select a white for the girl. Clem had probably dropped the name of the province the golden liquid had come from during his spell about aged oak barrels and the apricot orange-peel floral notes but in this exact moment Y/N could not have cared less. 

“Because you love spending time with us.” Marcus replied, shooting the girl a cocky smile as his honey eyes captured her familiar y/e/c over his sunglasses. “Debatable.” Y/N hummed snarkily. “Clem is bearable at times, but you two….” Y/N gestured at the two Kiwi boys before trailing off taking another sip from her sadly rapidly emptying glass. “I’m going to take that as the compliment I’m hoping it was intended to be.” The French driver mumbled, absentmindedly readjusting his bow-tie.  “Aw you know I love you Clemmie” the y/s/c young woman exclaimed in a sing-song tone playfully throwing her free arm around the tuxedo donned man. “And yet no love for me… not even a little. What kind of girlfriend are you!” Marcus moaned in disbelief at the long-time friendship being rubbed in his face. “Oh quit whining and get on with it.” Y/N sassily retaliated rolling her eyes at the Kiwi’s hysterics. 

“Fine.” Marcus grumbled, however he struggled to hold back the building smile. If there was one thing Marcus sucked at it was hiding his emotions. It didn’t take a genius to work out how he felt about the young woman. From the way his soft golden hazel eyes would sparkle to the small twitches of his upper lip as he tried to bite back a growing grin. “I meant to ask Max during the podcast but I never got around to it, so when and where is your first kiss.” Marcus continued, still slightly kicking himself that he’d forgotten to ask such a juicy question to Max ‘rejected him 26 times’ Fewtrell himself. “We can re-divert!” James stated quickly a smug grin beginning to form, the grin targeted towards the F2 Driver dropped quickly when Clem expertly deflected the question “Actually James when was your first kiss.” The Frenchman asked. “It was in Whangamatā actually in 2013.” The dark blond began setting the scene. “2013?!” Y/N coughed out choking slightly on a sudden giggle. If she did the maths quickly that meant James hadn’t kissed anyone until he was sixteen. This new found knowledge practically obliterated the cool suave Bond-like demeanour James had built up. There wasn’t anything wrong with saving your first kiss, absolutely nothing wrong with going at your own pace. But Y/N had known James since he was 18 and the idea that James could probably have somewhat confidently chugged a weak beer before even locking lips with a girl was mind blowing. Shooting the older man an apologetic smile Y/N continued listening to James retelling of probably one of his most awkward life milestones. “Did you give her a wee pecker.. Or was it a slobbery kiss?” Marcus quizzed his fellow countryman, enjoying the growing bashfulness coming from his mate.

Soon it became clear it was Y/N turn to share her recollection of her first kiss. She wished she could lie and say she simply didn’t remember but knowing Marcus well she knew the Kiwi wouldn’t let it go, especially if he thought it could potentially be a little embarrassing. Groaning Y/N pondered for a second, placing her wine glass down and tucking her legs neatly beneath her. Adjusting her hoodie she racked her brains, the Screaming Meals Trio were some of her closest friends but there were still some things the girl didn’t feel needed to be shared and reliving certain parts of her childhood was one of them. Boy looking back Y/N was embarrassed enough, she didn’t need the trio pissing themselves laughing. So, what about your first kiss Y/N/N ?” the French native asked, his narrowed dark hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. “Marcus didn’t have to share his so why should I?” Y/N frowned, narrowing her eyes playfully at the Kiwi sat directly across from her. “Well firstly mine wasn’t that interesting, secondly it’s my show.” Marcus called out, poking his tongue out a little at his reasoning.  

“Ok first kiss.” Y/N began pausing for a second. “Like first proper kiss when you were aware of what was happening?” Y/N asked slowly hoping for some clarity, her head tilt in slight confusion. 

“Woah woah woah how many guys have you kissed that you ‘weren't aware of?’” Marcus objected loudly shuffling forward from his relaxed position, emphasizing his point with air quotes. Marcus wouldn’t call himself jealous, in fact that’s one of the last words he’d ever associate with himself, but the idea that there could potentially be a list of guys who’d kissed his girlfriend before him was difficult. The Kiwi Driver couldn’t help the surfacing insecurity, I mean what if (god forbid)  they were better kissers than him? “Don’t be gross Marcus… I mean like I don't want to say 4 or 5 mate… I barely remember it other than he’d been nagging me for ages and apparently he was no longer satisfied with my sadistic self only letting him kiss the bottom of my foot…” 

Stifling a giggle at the mixture of reactions from the boys Y/N shrugged as if her statement was beyond normal. “Also sorry Greg if that made you realise you had a foot fetish or something….” The girl added, reaching to collect her previously abandoned glass. “Uh… ok so what about your first proper kiss then?” Clem managed to ask, the Frenchman still slightly frozen in shock. “Um I was in year four so like 8… oh god…” Y/N trailed off cringing at the memory of this relationship. Hell could she even class it as a relationship? It hadn’t lasted that long, but it had been her first real exposure to boys. The boy in question had been the popular boy at school, all the girls had wanted him and he’d picked her. Something young Y/N had been so immensely proud of. 

“I’m probably going to regret asking this but how old was he?” James interrupted hesitantly, a look of concern filling his pale features. “I think. I think maybe 11? Oh fuck that’s  questionably dodgy.” the young woman groaned in realisation. “That’s like mega dodgy… 10 shades of dodgy.” the insurance broker agreed quickly, running a hand over his face. Silence fell over the small group. You could probably have heard a pin drop, or the sharp intake of breath from an extremely baffled Kiwi named Marcus Armstrong. “Jesus Y/N/N I think I can hear some police sirens.” Marcus exclaimed, clearing his throat, all the brown haired driver got in response was a half-hearted shrug. “Well you wanted something interesting?” the y/h/c girl replied simply. 

[noteveryoneis]

Grocery shopping with three kids is like balancing a goldfish’s bowl on your head — impossible and always ending in disaster.

Especially when one of them is a little girl with ADHD and who is going through her teenage rebellion at eight years old. Ava has already lost sight of Nina five times in the span of thirty minutes, no matter how many times she has asked her to stay with them and not get lost. Every time she finds her, the little girl just rolls her eyes and mutters ‘ugh’ like Ava is just the most annoying bitch on Earth — at least she hasn’t said it yet, she still has some respect left for her mother.

‘Dad would have let me have it,’ Ava hears after she tells her to put back the Laffy Taffy she tried to add to the cart.

Ava clenches her teeth, doesn’t say anything (of course her dad would have let her have it, as he doesn’t care about her, about her sisters, about what they eat and who they are and if they are loved), but she sees the way Neves looks up at her quietly, as if her five year old brain can sense that her mother has just been hit in the chest by an invisible arrow, and Nova’s grip on the shopping cart tightens, like she is doing everything in her power not to smack her little sister with one of the pool noodles on display.

Still, Ava makes the most of it. She makes whooshing noises as she turns the cart, drops kisses on Neves’ nose from time to time where she is sitting in the child seat, helps Nova choose the best pens and even lets Nina get the Barbie notebook she really wanted. 

She’s mentally doing the math of how much they’ll need and if she can add a bottle of her pain meds to the list when she hears the voice behind her.

“My my my, as I live and breathe, if that isn’t Ava Silva.”

Her first reflex is to grip the cart like it’s going to float away, muscles locked up. She's been hearing that so much lately, the snarls and mocking chuckles from everyone who knew her from before — and from now, Ava Silva who left her shiny little city after being kicked out like a dog by the father of her kids and came back with her tail in between her legs to her hometown (when in reality Ava is working her ass off so that her girls can go to school and live in a real house where they each have their own rooms and where they can go to the beach every weekend and she loves it).

But then she recognizes the hoarseness of the voice and the way it sounds like a warm smile — or like coming home. And so Ava whirls around, only to be met by the sight of none other than Mary freaking Masters, grinning down at her.

People have had a lot of different reactions at Ava’s return. Camila blew up her phone at the first text Ava sent announcing her move, Lilith tried to stare her down, Mrs. Salvius smiled at her and wished her a warm welcome back, Duretti almost kicked her out of the school and Superion announced loudly that she was praying Nova wasn’t anything like her mother — fondly and teasingly too, Superion was a softie even though she claimed the opposite.

But being picked up and hugged tightly? A first.

Mary’s laugh echoes in her ear as Ava hugs her back, grinning like an idiot.

“Jesus, kid, I heard you were back and town and I didn’t believe it, but you’re actually here!”

Mary sets her back down on the ground, smiling at her (the only thing stopping her from ruffling Ava’s hair is probably the fact that she’s a grown woman of twenty-eight-years old).

“Yeah, I am, moved back three weeks ago. Glad to know news still travel fast around here.”

“You know it,” Mary laughs, like she just knows how much the residents of their hometown love talking back behind each other’s backs.

All three of the girls are still staring at the two of them in silence from the cart, big eyes open as if wondering who the fuck this woman is.

“Right, sorry,” Ava laughs, taking a step back and putting a hand on Nina’s shoulder, the other setting on Neves’ back, leaving it to Nova to decide whether or not she wants to hide behind her mother — she doesn’t, looking curiously at Mary as if trying to remember her. “Girls, this is Mary, Nova’s godmother. Mary, well, you already know them.”

They all greet her in a concert of little ‘hi’s as Mary smiles back at them. 

“You guys have grown,” she whistles, raising an impressed eyebrow — right, she hasn’t seen them since Neves’ birth. “Especially you,” she tells Nova, “Jesus Christ, you’re tall, kid.”

“Everyone keeps saying that,” Nova frowns.

“Most people here haven’t seen you since you were a baby,” Ava reminds her.

“Yes, but what else am I supposed to be but taller? Of course I am, I’ve grown!” Nova says, raising her hands to the sky. “And what if I have had dwarfism? What would you guys have said?”

“No’, you don’t have dwarfism,” Ava says.

“But I could have!”

Ava throws in the towel at that one, turning back towards Mary who is raising an eyebrow with a shit-eating grin.

“Cute kid.”

“Thanks,” Nina grins because of course she does, flipping her hair back to make her sisters laugh (and it works).

“Oh, I just know which one of you has the Silva genes,” Mary says, pointing a finger at her, clearly amused.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Ava stops her. “The tale of mama’s adventures will have to wait,” she says, redirecting Nina towards the cart and ushering Nova back to her sisters.

Mary smiles back at her, really smiles, not just one of those uptight fake smiles that Ava has been receiving since her move back here — except for Teacher-Hot-Neighbor Beatrice whose smiles always look timid and hesitant, like she’s not sure she’s allowed to do that, and Camila who is just genuinely a ray of sunshine.

“Shannon has been talking about you,” she says, softly and a little more seriously. “She’s been wondering where you and the girls were at, she’s going to be happy to know you’re all so close.”

She doesn’t ask about JC, like she already knows, or maybe she had seen it coming, like they all did. Ava smiles back, not knowing what to say.

“You know I have to invite you all to our house for dinner now, right? The wife wouldn’t let me live if I didn’t.”

“You have a wife?” Nina asks, her head poking out from behind Ava’s hip, tiny fingers hooking into the loop of her shorts.

“She’s Neves’ godmother, come on, you guys know that,” Ava explains, frowning.

They’ve met them five years ago — okay, Nina was three and probably doesn’t remember it, and Nova was six and already didn’t like talking to people (which annoyed JC greatly and made her miserable). All things considered, she doesn’t blame them for not remembering Shannon and Mary.

“Yup, I have a wife,” Mary says instead, not missing a beat as she shows her wedding ring. “She’ll want to meet you guys as soon as I tell her about you.”

“Are you gay?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Ava intervenes immediately, shoving the shopping list into Nova’s hand. “Take your sister around, don’t get lost and, Antonina, please stop asking questions about people’s sexualities.”

Mary is laughing her ass off as the two little girls scamper away, Neves kicking her little legs from her child seat, smiling slightly to herself. Ava sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to stop herself from laughing too. Now she understands everyone’s suffering from when she was younger, karma is a bitch. 

“I’m serious,” Mary says after a few seconds of laughing like a madman. “We’re throwing a cookout next sunday, you have to come. And bring your comedian kid with you, I like her,” she says, like Nina is a shiny new toy (Ava can already feel the headache coming just thinking about how much chaos the two will bring together).

“I’m… I’ll see what I can do.”

“Nah, you know I don’t take no for an answer. Seriously, Ava, come. Shannon will be thrilled to see you. We’ve missed you, kid.”

Neves tugs on her shirt, Ava picks her up and sets her on her hip, putting a kiss on her hair and letting the anxiety melt away as the girl wraps her arms around her shoulders.

“Okay,” she says. “We’ll come.”

Mary smiles again, Ava feels a bit warmer already.

[kittythegengarmonarch]

15 questions for 15 mutuals

One of my close friends (as well as mutuals) @cadaver-moss tagged me in this! Gracias mi amigo! Now it's my turn! ^^

(There are some questions that reveal a bit too much for me, so I will try my best to alter them.)

Are you named after anyone. I'd say there are 3 answers. Legal name I will change: Yes Real name I use today: Depends. It's a noun that I would describe myself, but in a different language. Also turns out, I learned about a year after I got the name, that the word comes from the name of a spirit! Persona's name: A grandmother's dog (she's a sweetheart)

When was the last time you cried. The last time I actually cried was during a meltdown. The last time I almost cried was when another close friend said he would block me if I sent him a clip of Toad's voice, and because he said that I had a shutdown (he knew what he did was wrong though, and luckily, we made up).

Do you have kids? My sona does (in reality they're my Gengar plushies), but irl, no. I don't plan to have coitus with anyone else in any way, shape or form. (Adopting or fostering kids though, I would say otherwise).

Do you use sarcasm a lot? Depends on my mood, really.

What sports do you play/have you played? Have I played? Kick ball! I made a homerun (after I slid) and ended up getting filled with energy and pride! ^^

What's the first thing you notice about other people? I honestly don't know. I have social anxiety, especially with most other teens (a reason why high school is very stressful for me) and I often prefer to be alone.

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. Easy answer. The King's Game, SCP-5254, Squid Game and SCP-001(WTDB) are perfect examples of why I prefer happy endings, as they have caused me depression and sometimes paranoia. It wasn't pretty. (There is also more media like them that have caused me depression and/or paranoia.)

Any special talents? If drawing counts, yes. Other than that, if it counts, algebra, and most other academic activities.

Where were you born? My sona: Alola Me irl, an southeastern state in the US (Currently living somewhere else, and I will not say the name of either place)

What are your hobbies? Drawing, surfing the net, watching YouTube, napping, shaking the lamb sauce (don't ask. It's a secret), listening to music, car rides (at times), word searches, and other things that are out of my mind right now.

Do you have any pets? The namesake of my sona, Kitty, and Highly [Maybe Confused]. There are some pictures I took of them recently at the bottom of the post. Check out other videos on Tumblr to check them out. Update: We got another bulldog, and his name is Uhtred.

How tall are you? What's 3^4-36+9x2+0? That's your answer. (And no, it's not a _'_ deal)

Favorite subject in school? Art. Other than art, math.

Dream job? Character designer, like James Turner and Ken Sugimori, or an illustrator, like Anne Fitzgerald. Or a storyboard artist.

Eye color? Go outside, and stare at a tree trunk. If not, stare at my dog.

Highly is the tired one(left), and Kitty is the desperate one(right). Update: The puppy below is Uhtred.

I'll tag @liamthemarowak @ghos-tea @tiny-brain @destinylightsup-2006 @leothewtf @andythepurplebird2k5 @alter-ego-cole @boongusbongus and @artsymii

(As it's most likely required. Lmao)

[aidansloth]

Random Gareth Emerson Headcanons:

this is literally the 3rd part of these, and yes, the hyperfixation on this sweet boy is still here (tw, I also accidentally deleted the past version of this and the suicidal tendencies really kicked in yk)

he's a Gryffindor, maybe a bit Hufflepuff but mostly Gryffindor

for my Percy Jackson fans, he's either Ares' or Hermes' kid

he's the type to dye red streaks in his hair after a mental breakdown at 3am

his pajamas consist of red checkered pants and a band tee (I'm looking respectfully sir👀)

is a theatre kid

he puts on full shows in his bedroom when his sister walks in and he SHREEKS

can you IMAGINE him singing at the top of his lungs Say My Name or The Room Where It Happens

he's a History and Science nerd, but is somehow shit at Maths

I'm sorry but he looks like he's about to ask you if you have games on your phone

he has SO MANY HOODIES and you get to steal all of them

don't know if I already said this but he's usually short on money so he handcrafts most of the gifts he gives and also makes a lot of his own jewelry

because he hasn't got a lot of money he makes the best presents, they're all thoroughly thought-out and personal to the individual

he can sew, maybe just as necessity, he can fix a button or shorten stuff I'm sure

wears mismatched socks on purpose

he wants to get industrial and helix piercings, tattoos too but he doesn't know what to get yet

Modern!Gareth loves Pokémon, has all the games and knows all of their names (it's his hyperfixation yes) and he says his favourite Pokémon is Emboar but it's actually Sylveon (he just thinks it's really pretty)

he looks like an Arcanine

him and his family (mom and younger sisters) have Sunday nights where they watch movies and play boardgames together and have junk food

when he introduces you to the family his sisters instantly invite you to these nights. he tries so hard to hide his excitement but he can't help but smile and giggle at the thought of you getting along with his family so well

his mom is so happy to see her son like this (she also very much loves you)

okay I got off track there

loves sci-fi, especially those stories where humans realize they've been treating robots and cyborgs like shit

also loves books with rebellions (totally projecting)

his favourite Disney movie is Mulan and yes, he currently has a crush on Li Shang (rightly so). he was probably his gay awakening

he uses dried flowers as bookmarks

him and Eddie stim together (Autistic Eddie and Gareth with ADHD)

probably said this already but his most common stim is bouncing his leg and clapping

he hates gum

any sort of gum, doesn't like it at all

his bed is full of cushions

LOVES dragons

he thinks they're so cool, they have FIRE and WINGS and they've got SCALES and they're BIG

always keeps the thing-y from cans (my English just died imsorry) and makes them into jewelry

he has the whole set of tools to do that too

he's also the one that fixes everything in the house

I also think that the whole of Corroded Coffin is going to live together in an apartment

once Jeff woke him up at 4am because a lightbulb went out in his room and didn't know how to turn fix it

that apartment is going to be a mess

no offence to them obviously, but they are teenage boys, what do you expect (I mean this with love I swear)

(for anyone who has read The Raven Cycle, it's going to be like the guy's apartment, even with the toilet in the kitchen)

the times they've forgotten that one of them is taking a shower and walked right in on them are countless

they always try to have some time together, since they're all busy with either work or college (I'm probably going to make another set of headcanons for this, it really just got my brain going)

can't decide if he'd either kill bugs without hesitation or if he'd be the guy to run away screaming

cause I know Eddie frees them into the wild

and I need to know if they're gonna fight about the bug's fate for 3 hours like they're meant to

Gareth would kill for chicken nuggets

i didn't feel like checking spelling so I apologize for any mistakes

[magicstar16]

Berdly Was Smart

Aka, Projecting my neurodivergent and gifted kid insecurities/struggles onto Berdly because I can and my creative neurons are screaming at me to create when I should be studying lmao.

Berdly was smart

At least that’s what people said.

He certainly felt smart back in grade school. Answering questions on his classwork with ease. Feeling a rush when he was called on to answer a question. He didn’t even need to study! That HAD to be the sign of a genius, right?

He didn’t feel smart when other kids started to avoid him, despite having seemingly done nothing wrong. He didn’t feel smart when he got distracted any little noise that seemed to occur when he was working, like a radio’s audio becoming garbled just from the slightest interference. He didn’t feel smart when he lashed out at the other kids, giggling and pushing his buttons for reasons unknown to him. Did they find it funny when he got angry? He certainly didn’t know.

But Berdly was smart, he won the spelling bee after all!

At least that’s what people said.

He kept going back to that memory. How loud it was in the gym, the crowd’s voices seemed to blend together. He didn’t know why they were talking, weren’t people supposed to be quiet before a show was starting? It was what his parents said when he couldn’t seem to sit still when they went to the movies, or church, or anything that involved sitting still.

He kept kept going back to how frustrated he felt. How Noelle seemed to finish spelling the words just a bit quicker than him. Needing just a few seconds to recall the correct words and spelling, internally double checking so he wouldn’t say the wrong letter or stutter on his words.

He kept going back to when they got to the final word.

“December”

In a sudden stroke of luck, Noelle froze up. She could barely muster out the first letter. He could take the extra seconds he needed to pluck each letter from memory and put them in the correct order, taking the time he needed when he needed to pause in between letters when his brain seemed to lock up.

He felt smarter than ever, when he was declared the winner. Everyone cheering for him, calling him things like “prodigy, genius, intelligent, clever”

And for once, Berdly believed those words.

Looking back, Berdly felt bad for thinking he got lucky. Not because he acknowledged it was only his skill that got him the win, quite the opposite actually. He knew how frustrating it was when he knew the right answer, but just seemed to lock up, as if his brain needed to recharge from maintaining his focus for so long.

Maybe the same thing happened to Noelle?

Still, Berdly was smart, he got to the spelling bee finals after all, he couldn’t have gotten that far in the competition if he were dumb. He told himself that, and he believed it.

Until high school, that is.

Complicated formulas danced across the blackboard in math, words moved at the speed of light in English and History, and every time he took a test, there just never seemed to be enough time to finish. He hated how he’d look at the clock, how time always to be just about up when he only had 5 questions left. How he had to use a calculator to save himself whatever extra minutes he could in math, when he easily do the formula by hand. He felt stupid when he saw a math question that he KNOWS he could get right if he could just remember the formula, internally kicking himself when he went back and got a wrong answer he could have easily gotten right, but accidentally wrote the wrong numbers.

Genius took time, and there just never seemed to be enough.

But Berdly was smart.

At least, that’s what Noelle said.

He was lucky to be diagnosed when he was younger, he didn’t know how he’d react if he told anyone though, especially not Noelle. 

He always seemed to work better when he had a study partner, quizzing him to help his memory, helping him when he couldn’t seem to connect the dots to answer. 

He clutched his feathers in frustration, wishing he had taught himself how to study when he was younger. It was infuriating to him that he needed to be taught how to study in the first place, everyone else just seemed to KNOW how to do it instinctively. A’s and B’s turning into B’s and C’s just because he couldn’t seem to remember the answer, despite knowing that he knows it.

That was when Noelle came in. 

She taught him how to study, allowing him to figure things out at his own pace. She never judged him when he needed a break to rest his brain. She didn’t mind whenever he forgot names of classmates he saw every day. He couldn’t help but wonder if she liked him. The internet said people who liked you were super nice towards you, right? Most friends seemed to have gotten fed up with him after about a couple of months. To him, it was a logical conclusion. After all, Noelle wouldn’t have been so patient if she didn’t like his company, right?

It wasn’t long until Berdly started to find himself gravitating towards Noelle. She was one of the few faces he never forgot, and he never once had to ask what her name was again. (Apart from Kris, but it was easy to differentiate a human from a crowd a monsters, even if he didn’t know them that well) With his grades turning back to A’s, he had time to recharge. But if he absoulutely HAD to interact with anyone, he’d always turn to Noelle. He thought that he should probably have more variety in friends, but he never seemed to fit in anywhere else, getting blank stares whenever he rambled on about Dragon Blazers or Super Smashing Fighters, as if whoever he was talking to had never even heard of it. Anytime he tried to to a group of 2 or more, he’d find himself quickly excluded, never knowing when would be the right time to get a word in.

But Berdly was smart. 

At least, he was pretty sure he was.

But he didn’t feel smart when he tried to act confident and people rolled their eyes, or when people would glare at him whenever he made a seemingly innocuous joke. People liked confidence, right? He acted confident, emulating the knights in shining armor from games he liked (Especially Dragon Blazers) Jokingly insulting Kris in attempts to get closer to them (They were pretty smart, and he could actually remember their name and face) As they seemed to like that kind of humor. Thinking he’d at least get a chuckle when he said he actually wanted to get an A on his project when “offering” to let Kris be his group project partner, only getting a silent glare of scorn afterwards (although he’d have to admit, even if it didn’t work as a joke, it was definitely a solid roast he’d have to save for later)

But Berdly was smart

But he wasn’t as sure when he had stepped into the library’s computer lab just to study, only to fall into a world of neon lights and busy roads. Soaking up the colorful lights and new textures that awaited him whenever he pressed his wings onto something. It was like being transported into a video game, and he was the knight in shining, no, glow-in-the-dark armor! A place where he could thrive, a place he could understand, a place where he could go at his own pace, a place where he belonged.

So why?

Why did Queen seem to always had something to do when he offered her something? Why did she seem just as hard to read as anyone else when her visor was so much more expressive than anyone’s face. Hell, her visor even displayed the word “Lying” whenever she was fibbing to him. He didn’t feel smart when he never picked up on the hint until her visor literally had to spell out what she was feeling.

He didn’t feel smart when Kris easily got through puzzles he struggled on.

He didn’t feel smart when Kris, Susie, and the green person knocked him off his coaster, with Kris dodging his attacks with ease.

He didn’t feel smart when Queen had imprisoned him along with Kris and Susie.

He especially didn’t feel smart when escaping, with Susie, Kris, and the small blue dog thing Susie seemed to be close with. Watching Kris solve puzzle after puzzle firsthand, while he was still taking time to connect the dots in his head.

“Face it, you’re just as big a dumbass as the rest of us!” 

Susie’s words felt like a killing blow. 

Was he really just dumb? All those times where adults reassured him that he was smart, were they just lying to make him feel better? Was he just too stupid to carry a conversation like everyone else? A waterfall of thoughts rushed down on him

Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupi-

“Fine” he blurted out “I admit it”

He looked away from Susie, not wanting to see the mocking smile that he was sure would appear.

“I’m... I’m not that smart. I never was.” It felt more like he was admitting to himself that he wasn’t smart. “THERE! Are you happy?!”

He went back to that day.

The spelling Bee.

Words came out seemingly on their own. The spelling bee, the praise, how much he needed Noelle. All the new expectations he knows he wouldn’t be able to keep up with without Noelle’s help. How blinded he was at the prospect of a new world, how he got tricked by queen. Worst of all, Noelle was going to suffer thanks to his stupidity. Tears started to well up in the corners in his eyes.

“Don’t cry, chicken nugget man” he heard a high pitched voice say, presumably Susie’s strange dog friend, as it didn’t sound like Kris or Susie.

The strange wording snapped him out of his stupor. 

“All of us are idiots, too”

He wasn’t sure how to respond.

“I mean” Susie began, “like, I dunno about everyone else, but... Whether you’re the smart kid or not, we couldn’t care less. Screw up as much you want, honestly”

Berdly impulsively rushed towards Susie. it seemed she had something else to say, but he couldn’t contain the strange joy he felt. He didn’t know what to say, he began to speak, but he tripped on his words, not caring how he sounded as he tried to piece together a sentence as he was speaking.

“Susie... you... you’d accept me....? Even if I’m...dumb?” He wanted to say “Different” but he swapped his words at the last minute, not entirely sure he wanted to drop THAT on her yet, even if was just a thinly veiled admittance to his condition. 

“Uh... y-yeah?” Susie looked away from him for a minute. “It’s like when your sister gets cursed in Dragon Blazers 2. Even if her stats suck, she’s still your party member.”

Berdly stepped back. Finally, someone ELSE who shared his interests, he never thought Susie out of all people would appreciate Dragon Blazers 2 as much as he (and maybe Noelle) did.

Not only did Susie accept him, but she also liked what he liked.

Like Noelle

Even if Berdly had declared he would now fight for the side of ignorance, he still knew that he wasn’t an idiot.

Berdly was smart. But he wasn’t dumb either.

And he certainly wasn’t perfect.

But now, if he was dumb, he was allowed to be. 

And he was okay with that.

[randomkposts]

Usually I post something UD around Canadian Elections, which sometimes is around Canadian Thanksgiving. It being October again had me think of it.

I have written down varied notes in places for a possible Josh Time Loop fic. These are some of the ones I had in google docs.

Putting them here in hopes that reading them again might spark something down the line. Or maybe it will inspire someone else to write it.

Personally, I think the hardest people to write a time loop fic for, are Mike, Sam, and Josh. Josh for being a plot setter, Mike for being the most in the loop and active, and Sam for being mostly out of the monster clueline until the end, which is why she needed the obvious hints of the grave and diary to connext it to Hannah. Which could be intresting, except she has the most plot armor. So its hard to find a good place to loop... Although Josh messing up and ODing her has possiblities, it is also very bad for their relationship.

I have written a mike TT, which was short, and seen a good one by someone else. Actually, I mention a UD TT fics in my Emily TT for every chapter she dies in but the first.

I'll post links at the bottom. In the meantime, on to Josh!

---

Josh on a time loop, and other UD theory stuff

saw a theory, that makes sense to me. The theory was that players couldn't save Josh, not directly because of karma from the prank or anything, but because he killed animals on the mountain. The pigs that he used in the prank. Most instances of Characters messing with nature on the mountain lead to nature retaliating. Jessica accidentally hits and kills a bird in a snowball fight, and almost has to dodge icicles not long after. Matt is loud and angry around a herd of moose, and can get kicked off a cliff. There are some exceptions, such as Chris shooting the squirrel and sam getting attacked, but overall it seems to follow that pattern. Josh killed several pigs to get the ingredients for his prank, and nature retaliated.

The prank can be reworked to avoid killing any pigs, just take out faking his death, And leaving a pigs head for Matt and Emily to find. The bit with the guns could still work. Sam's bath takes somewhere between 2-3 hours, If I have my math right. I'd also probably swap victims, and send Emily and Matt to the cabin (Emily is the likeliest one to call the police), Have Jess and Mike be the main targets of the prank (Jess is now a believer of ghosts, for story), and lock Chris and Ashley in a room escape room style (sure they may get claustrophobia, but thats way less traumatic then cannon). Nothing happened to Matt and Emily (they were faster then Mike and Jess), but thats what part two is for, I guess. Don't know what it would be though.

Matt surviving could make things more wild, as a Matt who didn't encounter wendigo's before meeting Jess, can warn her about the Psycho. Who he heard about, but never saw. So picture Matt and Jess escaping the mines together, and concluding everything happened because of the psycho. They describe Wendigo's to the police, because they never saw the psycho in person, and everyone who did and all other evidence is gone in the blaze.

In seriousness, I would like to write about Jess post game, but I would probably focus on recovering from the Coma, and the associated brain damage. Because real life, being unconscious that long would give her all sorts of brain damage. The longer the coma, the poorer chance of recovery, so after several hours, she was lucky to wake up at all, let alone be coordinated enough to escape, especially when paired with her physical injuries. So, I want to play that more realistic. I might have Matt and Emily survive, too, so she has a support network, and other people to the the story. Particularly interesting if Matt and Emily are at odds after the radio tower, but keeping their friendship with her.

I like Josh too. I saw a theory, that maybe sense to me for why you could not save him. It has nothing to do with his actions twords other people, and instead has to do with his actions twords nature. Nature punishes the protagonists for acting against it. Such as when Jess accidently kills a bird with a snowball, and almost dies to Icicles. Josh, to get the ingredients for his prank, killed several pigs. The only one who isn't directly impacted by that one is Chris, who killed nature, and Sam got hurt for it. 

I like to think about theories. And I realise I forgot the biggest example of Matt acting agressively around the hoard of moose, and being kicked off a cliff (if the player failed the QTE's). The one possible death that had nothing to do with monster's. I didn't do any of that on my first playthrough, but on chapter select I tried out some stuff, on the way to my, 'everybody dies 'run. Except Wolfie, who I went out of the way to save.

Now, takeing out any animal death from Josh's prank, mostly means avoiding fakeing his death, and not hideing Emily's bag to have them encounter a pigs head. That we see, anyway. The monsters derailed anything else we might have seen of it. So we can still have ghosts, and fake killer, and shoot yourself, or your girl scenario. Except either the gun is unloaded, or Josh is past the point of careing if the blanks kill someone, so someone gets seriously injured as a result. Josh should know that blanks can kill. Now let's swap targets. Give Emily and Matt the key to the cottage after the fight, beacuse Emily is the one canoncially smart enough to call for help, and should be saved for later. Emily and Matt get to the cabin fine, beacuse they are nither looking for the bag, nor pranking eachother, and are unlikley to be kidnapped as Jess was. I think they would stay away from the door. Lock Ashley and in Chris in a room to either work out their feelings or bond over the development of claustrophobia. Their adventures will be like escape room. Sam, will be out of the picture, as her bath took somewhere between 2-3 hours if I am doing my math right. Focus the prank around Jessica and Mike. We will give Jessica some belif in the supernatural for this to work, as Cannon doesn't let us play her enough to say that she doesn't believe. Other nuances would be changed due to different intended victims, an I'm sure there would be more to the prank, but I can't say I would know what else to add, as I am not much one for pranking.

I think, that Hannah was in there, somewhat, enough to know her old friends, and have feelings on how she killed them, but it wasn't enough to save them long term. The three people who she felt strongest about, were the ones who lasted the longest. I am unsure what it meant about her feelings on Josh when she crushed his head, as she seems to collect heads (like Beth's) , as a sign that she had some care for them. Emily's head is not collected if she isn't killed by Mike, which may indicate she didn't intend to save it. I don't know if Mike and Sam's stomachs being hit, and a slow death was an indication of care, so much as it was an indication Hannah lost the battle against restraint to not kill them.

I agree he probably would have lived if he weren't worried about Chris. I do think that Hannah's different hunting style was a factor in his death, as Hannah kills differently from the other monsters, as seen by the strangers poor dead wolf in the Sanitoriom. Hannah goes for a direct kill, rather then the miner monsters. I'm not sure if it is beacuse her body is newer and stronger, of if it is beacuse she has an old monsters soul in her. Maybe it's a mix of both.

--

Fanfic time

Mike above

Emily below

[an-aura-about-you]

idk why my brain is kicking around the idea of setting aside enough money to get a nice latte every day for a month, but it is. so I guess I'll look at the pros and cons of doing that.

Cons:

-that money could be used on other things

-while it may feel like proving a point, it's a point that can be easily proven with math

-all I'll get out of it is a nice latte every day for a month

Pros:

-I'll get a nice latte every day for a month

-it'll be cheaper and last longer than any vacation I can reasonably take

-it's an excuse to go hard mode and try to hit up a different coffee shop every day so I don't just pile up freebies in one shop

-even with hard mode I will probably still get some freebies, especially if I end up planning this for, say, my birth month, this racking up multiple free drinks (I will not do this in my birth month because a true hard mode for a month long challenge should probably exclude February since it's the shortest.)

-who knows maybe me actually buying a latte a day and recording how much I spend and how many freebies I get WILL finally shut some dickheads up. sometimes math isn't enough to prove it to some people.

[phantomdialogue]

Just finished People We Meet on Vacation. It was good. But here's the thing. I remembered why I stopped reading. I will consume any story in one sitting. Started around 12 this morning and just finished. Roughly 11 hrs of reading with breaks for eating and moving laundry. I don't casually read, I fall into story holes.

How do you take breaks when you read?

first off, i'm glad you liked people we meet on vacation!! i am starting my binge of emily henry's other books right now and they are definitely living up to the emily henry hype

second off, that's very real and honestly my advice and experience change on a few different factors that i hope are helpful to you to know. feel free to ask clarifying questions btw! i'm just kind of spitballing haha

tldr though - instill times of the days to read in, practice using reading in short spurts as a reward for being productive, highlighting/sticky tabs, and track your reading

i will admit that i am a bit of a mood reader meaning that once i finish a book, i have a hard time not immediately starting another because i'm already in that reading "mood" and i will often go on like reading "binges". so sometimes i will only read a few pages/a chapter or two a day for like a week and then i'll finish 75% of the book in one or two sittings after that. i find that a lot of my big reading days are centered around my kind of "off times". being in college rn it's usually right before or after midterms that i will read like crazy because i think my mind is like "making up for lost time". this isn't exactly what you described but i think it's similar enough that my advice may still really help.

to read consistently, i have found that it's best to restrict myself but not in a crazy like "i can not read unless x, y, or z" kind of thing. i like to think of it almost like intermittent fasting in a way but for reading (and some exceptions). if i wake up early, i'm allowed to read until i have to shower and then 80% of the time, i don't let myself read again until i'm done for the day and am winding down in bed. now that other 20% of the time, i'm still using reading as like a treat/reward kind of thing. so for instance since i'm studying a lot for a bunch of midterms, when i feel myself start to kind of get really anxious or overwhelmed, i say "i'll read a chapter or two and then get back to work".

this is when that self control kind of has to kick in admittedly because you can easily just say "screw it" and then end up reading but this is when i also utilize timers. especially since i read on a kindle and i'm really not a fan of pausing in the middle of a chapter, i have it set to tell me how long it will take me to read a chapter when i start it. this is kind of how i gauge how long i can read for. so for instance i was doing some math today and took a break to read and my chapter was going to take me 16 minutes to read and so i told myself that was my allotted break time and only let myself read one chapter. the way i'd recommend doing that with a physical book is to just set a general alarm of how long of a break you want to take and then when you finish a chapter, check the time left and decide "do i have time to finish another or should i stop now?" rule of thumb is generally if you only have 5 minutes left, set the book down haha

another little thing is highlighting/sticky tabbing as i read. i think that it kind of slows me down and takes up a bit more brain space to focus on what i'm reading to catch my favorite quotes and moments to highlight. you don't have to physically use a highlighter for that. i have a gazillion different colors of sticky tabs that i use personally and i color code them to the book cover

my final little piece of advice that i think has been great for me is tracking my reading. if you look at my monthly recap posts, there is a little book calendar on the bottom with all the days that i read a book. tracking my reading and filling out that calendar has been really nice because it's really encouraged my little "reward" reading times. there are days that i wake up late and can't read in the morning or by the time that i go to bed i'm so tired that picking up my kindle feels more like a chore than pleasure so i just don't do it. but tracking my reading gives me incentive to really allow myself even just the time to read a chapter. i don't especially know why the tracking works for me but it does. i personally really love the app bookmory for tracking my reading because i find that it's fairly simple and there is no social aspect and the free version is pretty easy to use without feeling like the ads or anything is getting in the way.

this was a lot but i just kept talking so i hope that any of this advice is helpful and my inbox is always open to talk if you have any questions or want to just chat books in general!

[tjgenvs3000f24]

Relationship with Nature

Throughout my life, nature has been a constant fascination for me. More broadly, I have always been interested in how things work, but this interest got kick-started when I got a chance to learn about all the different kinds of animals in the world. From hearing about the great African savanna to the Amazon Rainforest, animals had me endlessly curious. I was especially interested in looking at animals like they were machines, learning how they worked and why they did, almost looking at animals like they were machines.

As I grew older, my focus on this mechanical aspect naturally switched to machines, joining the robotics team, and learning how to design machines, I realized that it wasn't exactly for me (thanks to grade 12 physics). I had a great time, of course, I wouldn't have pursued it as hard as I did if I didn't, but my interest and infatuation with how things worked didn't click as well with machines as they did with animals. So I veered off the path of every student in Ontario and chose to go into zoology instead of engineering.

As I am entering my third year, I am thrilled that I made that choice, as though I miss some aspects like the satisfaction of solving a math problem or being able to design and build something with the knowledge I had learned in school, I am having the same if not more fun than I had all those years ago. I am finally learning why animals walk on four legs, why lions have manes, and how hummingbirds can fly so fast. Of course, it's much more complicated than I imagined, but it is still endlessly interesting to me.

What brought me back to this path and dragged my interest into this course, however, was going to and then working at camp. Since I was eleven, I have been going to a summer camp called Camp Can-Aqua. It was an incredible place to be as a camper, learning how to canoe and kayak, shoot bows and arrows, making all kinds of friends. The camp is about three hours north of Guelph and is surrounded by forest. It is a perfect place to go looking for frogs, birds, and chipmunks, find all kinds of wildflowers and mushrooms, and just enjoy the wonders of nature. My truly favourite part of going to camp, however, was the canoe trips.

In 2020, for whatever reason, we'll truly never possibly know, the camp was shut down for the summer. For me, that was my LIT (leader in training) year, the first of two leadership courses the camp offered, and though I couldn't experience the usual LIT experience, they offered the chance to go on an eleven-day portage canoe trip through Algonquin. Those eleven days were truly the best and the worst eleven days of my life. From portaging heavy canoes for three kilometres in the pouring rain to dragging them through a leech-filled, sharp stick littered river too shallow to paddle through, too muddy to wear shoes in with no end in sight because the trail hadn't been taken in several years, there were a few hardships that made it feel like it was all a mistake, but every time we set camp or any time my brain turned off as we paddled, I could enjoy the peacefulness and true beauty that is Algonquin. This chance to get so close to nature, camping in the woods for almost two weeks, was incredible.

Throughout the entire journey, the counsellors in charge would take moments to point out specific things on our journey, and though not everyone was excited to see a leech or a moulted snake, I loved every second of it. I had found my sense of place. A sense of place that I am a simple part of a beautiful and complex world that I can only hope to one day understand. I carried this idea with me when I became a counsellor and helped run the nature activity, teaching kids about clouds and rainbows, showing them the wonders they can see in the forest around them, and trying to connect with them to give them this sense of place I found.

[makingimages]

Leo was from a long time ago, the first one I ever saw nude. In the spring before the Hellmans filled their pool, we’d go down there in the deep end, with baby oil, and like that. I met him the first month away at boarding school. He had a halo from the campus light behind him. I flipped.

Roger was fast. In his illegal car, we drove to the reservoir, the radio blaring, talking fast, fast, fast. He was always going for my zipper. He got kicked out sophomore year.

By the time the band got around to playing “Wild Horses,” I had tasted Bruce’s tongue. We were clicking in the shadows on the other side of the amplifier, out of Mrs. Donovan’s line of vision. It tasted like salt, with my neck bent back, because we had been dancing so hard before.

Tim’s line: “I’d like to see you in a bathing suit.” I knew it was his line when he said the exact same thing to Annie Hines.

You’d go on walks to get off campus. It was raining like hell, my sweater as sopped as a wet sheep. Tim pinned me to a tree, the woods light brown and dark brown, a white house half hidden with the lights already on. The water was as loud as a crowd hissing. He made certain comments about my forehead, about my cheeks.

We started off sitting at one end of the couch and then our feet were squished against the armrest and then he went over to turn off the TV and came back after he had taken off his shirt and then we slid onto the floor and he got up again to close the door, then came back to me, a body waiting on the rug.

You’d try to wipe off the table or to do the dishes and Willie would untuck your shirt and get his hands up under in front, standing behind you, making puffy noises in your ear.

He likes it when I wash my hair. He covers his face with it and if I start to say something, he goes, “Shush.”

For a long time, I had Philip on the brain. The less they noticed you, the more you got them on the brain.

My parents had no idea. Parents never really know what’s going on, especially when you’re away at school most of the time. If she met them, my mother might say, “Oliver seems nice” or “I like that one” without much of an opinion. If she didn’t like them, “He’s a funny fellow, isn’t he?” or “Johnny’s perfectly nice but a drink of water.” My father was too shy to talk to them at all unless they played sports and he’d ask them about that.

The sand was almost cold underneath because the sun was long gone. Eben piled a mound over my feet, patting around my ankles, the ghostly surf rumbling behind him in the dark. He was the first person I ever knew who died, later that summer, in a car crash.

I thought about it for a long time.

“Come here,” he says on the porch.

I go over to the hammock and he takes my wrist with two fingers. “What?”

He kisses my palm then directs my hand to his fly.

Songs went with whichever boy it was. “Sugar Magnolia” was Tim, with the line, “Rolling in the rushes/down by the riverside.” With “Darkness Darkness,” I’d picture Philip with his long hair. Hearing “Under My Thumb” there’d be the smell of Jamie’s suede jacket.

We hid in the listening rooms during study hall. With a record cover over the door’s window, the teacher on duty couldn’t look in. I came out flushed and heady and back at the dorm was surprised how red my lips were in the mirror.

One weekend at Simon’s brother’s, we stayed inside all day with the shades down, in bed, then went out to Store 24 to get some ice cream. He stood at the magazine rack and read through MAD while I got butterscotch sauce, craving something sweet.

I could do some things well. Some things I was good at, like math or painting or even sports, but the second a boy put his arm around me, I forgot about wanting to do anything else, which felt like a relief at first until it became like sinking into a muck.

It was different for a girl.

When we were little, the brothers next door tied up our ankles. They held the door of the goat house and wouldn’t let us out till we showed them our underpants. Then they’d forget about being after us and when we played whiffle ball, I’d be just as good as they were.

Then it got to be different. Just because you have on a short skirt, they yell from the cars, slowing down for a while, and if you don’t look, they screech off and call you a bitch.

“What’s the matter with me?” they say, point-blank.

Or else, “Why won’t you go out with me? I’m not asking you to get married,” about to

get mad.

Or it’d be, trying to be reasonable, in a regular voice, “Listen, I just want to have a

good time.”

So I’d go because I couldn’t think of something to say back that wouldn’t be obvious,

and if you go out with them, you sort of have to do something.

I sat between Mac and Eddie in the front seat of the pickup. They were having a fight about something. I’ve a feeling about me.

Certain nights you’d feel a certain surrender, maybe if you’d had wine. The surrender would be forgetting yourself and you’d put your nose to his neck and feel like a squirrel, safe, at rest, in a restful dream. But then you’d start to slip from that and the dark would come in and there’d be a cave. You make out the dim shape of the windows and feel yourself become a cave, filled absolutely with air, or with a sadness that wouldn’t stop.

Teenage years. You know just what you’re doing and don’t see the things that start to get in the way.

Lots of boys, but never two at the same time. One was plenty to keep you in a state. You’d start to see a boy and something would rush over you like a fast storm cloud and you couldn’t possibly think of anyone else. Boys took it differently. Their eyes perked up at any little number that walked by. You’d act like you weren’t noticing.

The joke was that the school doctor gave out the pill like aspirin. He didn’t ask you anything. I was fifteen. We had a picture of him in assembly, holding up an IUD shaped like a T. Most girls were on the pill, if anything, because they couldn’t handle a diaphragm. I kept the dial in my top drawer like my mother and thought of her each time I tipped out the yellow tablets in the morning before chapel.

If they were too shy, I’d be more so. Andrew was nervous. We stayed up with his family album, sharing a pack of Old Golds. Before it got light, we turned on the TV. A man was explaining how to plant seedlings. His mouth jerked to the side in a tic. Andrew thought it was a riot and kept imitating him. I laughed to be polite. When we finally dozed off, he dared to put his arm around me, but that was it.

You wait till they come to you. With half fright, half swagger, they stand one step down. They dare to touch the button on your coat then lose their nerve and quickly drop their hand so you—you’d do anything for them. You touch their cheek.

The girls sit around in the common room and talk about boys, smoking their heads off. “What are you complaining about?” says Jill to me when we talk about problems. “Yeah,” says Giddy. “You always have a boyfriend.”

I look at them and think, As if.

I thought the worst thing anyone could call you was a cock-teaser. So, if you flirted, you had to be prepared to go through with it. Sleeping with someone was perfectly normal once you had done it. You didn’t really worry about it. But there were other problems. The problems had to do with something else entirely.

Mack was during the hottest summer ever recorded. We were renting a house on an island with all sorts of other people. No one slept during the heat wave, walking around the house with nothing on which we were used to because of the nude beach. In the living room, Eddie lay on top of a coffee table to cool off. Mack and I, with the bedroom door open for air, sweated and sweated all night.

“I can’t take this,” he said at 3 A.M. “I’m going for a swim.” He and some guys down the hall went to the beach. The heat put me on edge. I sat on a cracked chest by the open window and smoked and smoked till I felt even worse, waiting for something—I guess for him to get back.

One was on a camping trip in Colorado. We zipped our sleeping bags together, the coyotes’ hysterical chatter far away. Other couples murmured in other tents. Paul was up before sunrise, starting a fire for breakfast. He wasn’t much of a talker in the daytime. At night, his hand leafed about in the hair at my neck.

There’d be times when you overdid it. You’d get carried away. All the next day, you’d be in a total fog, delirious, absent-minded, crossing the street and nearly getting run over.

The more girls a boy has, the better. He has a bright look, having reaped fruits, blooming. He stalks around, sure-shouldered, and you have the feeling he’s got more in him, a fatter heart, more stories to tell. For a girl, with each boy it’s as though a petal gets plucked each time.

Then you start to get tired. You begin to feel diluted, like watered-down stew.

Oliver came skiing with us. We lolled by the fire after everyone had gone to bed. Each creak you’d think was someone coming downstairs. The silver loop bracelet he gave me had been a present from his girlfriend before.

On vacations, we went skiing, or you’d go south if someone invited you. Some people had apartments in New York that their families hardly ever used. Or summer houses, or older sisters. We always managed to find someplace to go.

We made the plan at coffee hour. Simon snuck out and met me at Main Gate after lights out. We crept to the chapel and spent the night in the balcony. He tasted like onions from a submarine sandwich.

The boys are one of two ways: either they can’t sit still or they don’t move. In front of the TV, they won’t budge. On weekends they play touch football while we sit on the sidelines, picking blades of grass to chew on and watch. We’re always watching them run around. We shiver in the stands, knocking our boots together to keep our toes warm, and they whizz across the ice, chopping their sticks around the puck. When they’re in the rink, they refuse to look at you, only eyeing each other beneath low helmets. You cheer for them but they don’t look up, even if it’s a face-off when nothing’s happening, even if they’re doing drills before any game has started at all.

Dancing under the pink tent, he bent down and whispered in my ear. We slipped away to the lawn on the other side of the hedge. Much later, as he was leaving the buffet with two plates of eggs and sausage, I saw the grass stains on the knees of his white pants.

Tim’s was shaped like a banana, with a graceful curve to it. They’re all different. Willie’s like a bunch of walnuts when nothing was happening, another’s as thin as a thin hot dog. But it’s like faces; you’re never really surprised.

Still, you’re not sure what to expect.

I look into his face and he looks back. I look into his eyes and they look back at mine. Then they look down at my mouth so I look up at his mouth, then back to his eyes then, backing up, at his whole face. I think, Who? Who are you? His head tilts to one side.

I say, “Who are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

I look at his eyes again, deeper. Can’t tell who he is, what he thinks. “What?” he says. I look at his mouth.

“I’m just wondering,” I say and go wandering across his face. Study the chin line. It’s shaped like a persimmon.

“Who are you? What are you thinking?”

He says, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Then they get mad after, when you say enough is enough. After, when it’s easier to explain you don’t want to. You wouldn’t dream of saying that maybe you weren’t really ready to in the first place.

Gentle Eddie. We waded into the sea, the waves round and plowing in, buffalo-headed, slapping our thighs. I put my arms around his freckled shoulders and he held me up, buoyed by the water, and rocked me like a sea shell.

I had no idea whose party it was, the apartment jam-packed, stepping over people in the hallway. The room with the music was practically empty, the bare floor, me in red shoes. This fellow slides one knee and takes me around the waist and we rock to jazzy tunes, with my toes pointing heavenward, and waltz and spin and drip to “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” or “I’ll Love You Just For Now.” He puts his head to my chest, runs a sweeping hand down my inside thigh and we go loose-limbed and sultry and smooth as silk and I stamp my red heels and he takes me in a swoon. I never saw him again after that but I thought, I could have loved that one.

You wonder how long you can keep it up. You begin to feel as if you’re showing through, like a bathroom window that only lets in grey light, the kind you can’t see out of.

They keep coming around. Johnny drives up at Easter vacation from Baltimore and I let him in the kitchen with everyone sound asleep. He has friends waiting in the car.

“What are you, crazy? It’s pouring out there,” I say.

“It’s okay,” he says. “They understand.”

So he gets some long kisses from me, against the refrigerator, before he goes home

because I hate those girls who push away a boy’s face as if she were made out of Ivory soap, as if she’s that much greater than he is.

The note on my cubby told me to see the headmaster. I had no idea for what. He had received complaints about my amorous displays on the town green. It was Willie that spring. The headmaster told me he didn’t care what I did but that Casey Academy had a reputation to uphold in the town. He lowered his glasses on his nose. “We’ve got twenty acres of wood on this campus,” he said. “If you want to smooch with your boyfriend, there are twenty acres for you to do it out of the public eye. You read me?”

Everybody’d get weekend permissions for different places, then we’d all go to someone’s house whose parents were away. Usually there’d be more boys than girls. We raided the liquor closet and smoked pot at the kitchen table and you’d never know who would end up where, or with whom. There were always disasters. Ceci got bombed and cracked her head open on the banister and needed stitches. Then there was the time when Wendel Blair walked through the picture window at the Lowes’ and got slashed to ribbons.

He scared me. In bed, I didn’t dare look at him. I lay back with my eyes closed, luxuriating because he knew all sorts of expert angles, his hands never fumbling, going over my whole body, pressing the hair up and off the back of my head, giving an extra hip shove, as if to say There. I parted my eyes slightly, keeping the screen of my lashes low because it was too much to look at him, his mouth loose and pink and parted, his eyes looking through my forehead, or kneeling up, looking through my throat. I was ashamed but couldn’t look him in the eye.

You wonder about things feeling a little off-kilter. You begin to feel like a piece of pounded veal.

At boarding school, everyone gets depressed. We go in and see the housemother, Mrs. Gunther. She got married when she was eighteen. Mr. Gunther was her high school sweetheart, the only boyfriend she ever had.

“And you knew you wanted to marry him right off?” we ask her.

She smiles and says, “Yes.”

“They always want something from you,” says Jill, complaining about her boyfriend. “Yeah,” says Giddy. “You always feel like you have to deliver something.”

“You do,” says Mrs. Gunther. “Babies.”

After sex, you curl up like a shrimp, something deep inside you ruined, slammed in a place that sickens at slamming, and slowly you fill up with an overwhelming sadness, an elusive gaping worry. You don’t try to explain it, filled with the knowledge that it’s nothing after all, everything filling up finally and absolutely with death. After the briskness of loving, loving stops. And you roll over with death stretched out alongside you like a feather boa, or a snake, light as air, and you... you don’t even ask for anything or try to say something to him because it’s obviously your own damn fault. You haven’t been able to—to what? To open your heart. You open your legs but can’t, or don’t dare anymore, to open your heart.

It starts this way:

You stare into their eyes. They flash like all the stars are out. They look at you

seriously, their eyes at a low burn and their hands no matter what starting off shy and with such a gentle touch that the only thing you can do is take that tenderness and let yourself be swept away. When, with one attentive finger they tuck the hair behind your ear, you—

You do everything they want.

Then comes after. After when they don’t look at you. They scratch their balls, stare at the ceiling. Or if they do turn, their gaze is altogether changed. They are surprised. They turn casually to look at you, distracted, and get a mild distracted surprise. You’re gone. Their blank look tells you that the girl they were fucking is not there anymore. You seem to have disappeared.

[etherealising]

💔older sister thingsss

nat was just like “hmm carmy is looking a little more sad kicked puppy than usual”

poor guys going THROUGH it

nothing a bit of concealer can’t fix!

this!! it kills me like bro really has this pendant and it’s like what keeps him going?? like i find it kinda cute tho (like give me a man who wears my initial 🙄😐����)

this was such a last minute add. but that pendant is def carmy’s security blanket! it’s utterly adorable, but also so sad because he could have the real deal if he just got his shit together 😭😭 (I can conquer though i too need a lover to wear my initial 🫣)

surpiseeeee shawtyyyyy

should’ve been in the script honestly lol

these children i swear

nat is just out here getting all the experience she needs for raising children

i can picture them already LMAO

Richie is eating every bit of this situation up!

😭

def one of my favorite lines i’ve ever given richie

richie #1 baby defender !!

he, pete, and nat are really laying the groundwork for these two losers.

AWWW PETEEEE

i just know he was so happy when nat gave him the news!!!

stop he loves her so muchhhh!!!

pete loves his wife and just wants it to be everyone’s business!

they’re sisters no matter what 🥹🤍 i’m really glad baby has someone like nat (and pete) but i also feel like sugar needed someone like baby since she grew up with just mikey and carmy + richie was probably one of those friends that was always at their house.

definitely I really love that I decided to take this relationship in that direction! but oh yeah baby was as much carmy’s best friend as she was nat’s (especially when puberty hit 🤣🤣)

he’s so needed in that family like he’s adds in a little fun and positivity

pete is the perfect balance for the berzattos they can all act like they tolerate him but I feel like deep down they have a soft spot for him because he’s so different from what they knew growing up!

🤭🤭

those two definitely gossiped about it over dinner

😂😭

this was so outta pocket for pete to say so happily, like sir do not allow this munchkin to diss you like this!

WELL SAID PETE 😭 WIFEY NEEDS A BREAK!!!!

• pete was like respectfully, figure your shit out lol

😭😭 he’s so real

cortez is carmy’s #1 hater! if carmy has one hater in the world it is cortez! if carmy has no haters in this world it is because cortez is dead!😭

i like this guy LMAO

i love cortez with my whole heart, he’s my favorite oc I’ve ever made (sowwy hayden 🤭)

omg

oh ‘em gee indeed!

each mention of the polaroids i die a little like.. 🥲

idk how polaroids and pictures in general even became a theme in this fic, like i was just supposed to be a one off but now it’s like their thing and i really love it 😭

i can’t wait for the baby shower !!! i’m hoping and praying it’s a sweet time (no drama pls) but whatever you have planned will be GOOD 😭😂

i am so excited to write the baby shower that chapter is gonna be so full of love, as of now i don’t think there will be drama, at least i didn’t plan for it lol but there will be a lot of feels : (

sighs

homeboys brain really short circuited

catch him replaying this voicemail every morning now after receiving it

baby boy is gonna listen to that thing like it’s a bedtime story

baby no.. that was actually well deserved for him

i can say that baby was indeed not sorry at all for that shot, her apology was out of forced maturity lol

it’s coming soon…. i cannot wait like even if it leaves me in tears

i hope when the time comes all the lovies in this community are so emotionally wrecked that they’re all like crying in a heap on the ground and i can just look down on all of you with a sense of pride in my chest (promise this is a joke)

i know he’s a chef but i love that he like immediately chooses that he needs to make dinner for her like i know for sure his love language is acts of service like bros here calculating time on how long it will take to get to her place then the grocery market like breatheeee dude

his math may’ve been fucked when it came to portioning out money for the restaurant, but i promise you baby could make an off handed comment about calculus or some shit and all of a sudden this kid is a mathematician and knows like the first 20 digits of pi off the top of his head. but also i feel like carmy only ever knows how to express himself through cooking and acts of service, that when these two finally get together he’s going to have to work so hard on accepting how loudly and openly baby loves him!

bro 😭😭

while baby was addicted to drugs, carmy was addicted to her 😍 (i need my internet privileges revoked for this one…)

BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 😭🤍

they really don’t make ‘em like this in real life and it’s such a travesty 😐

chapter seven | they know i believed in us last week

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader | platonic!pete x fem!reader | male!oc x fem!reader |

summary: carmy struggles to deal with your absence in his life, while you finally learn to live without him.

warning(s): talk about miscarriage (no explicit details) | word miscarriage used once | implied suicidal thoughts | substance abuse | NA | AA | Al-Anon | grief | mention of pregnancy |angst | drama | semi-fluff | language | sad boi carm | baby being mature | woe is me carmy | please let me know if i missed anything |

wc: 7.3k

song rec: i'll still have me - cyn, aquilo

semi-edited/proof-read

“Carm hey, are you listening?” Natalie’s eyes flitted across Carmy’s face, his blank eyes staring directly past her. She took this moment as a chance to take in her younger brother’s ragged appearance, at first glance he looked like he normally did; exhausted. But taking the time to really study him, she knew Carmy was doing worse than he’d ever admit.

His usual textured and fluffy hair was limp against his head, the greasy quality of it proving he needed a wash. The discoloration under his eyes was the worst Nat had seen it, the deep blue-purple bruising a sign that he was getting even less sleep than he usually did. The skin of his lips was dehydrated and bitten to pieces, a tick he had as a child that gradually calmed down as he grew older. And the visible stubble on his chin was enough to know that the absence of your presence in his life was hitting him harder than anyone expected.

Her eyes caught on the chain that was haphazardly peeking out of his shirt, squinting at the newly added pendant hanging from it. Natalie didn’t have to be a genius to know whose initial hung around Carmen’s neck, the chain which was usually safely tucked into his shirt was now blatantly on show for everyone to see. Natalie had noticed it more recently since your and Carmy’s argument, though this was her first time seeing it this close. She would find him just standing in the restaurant, sometimes eyes staring into nothing as he worried the pendant between his fingers, oftentimes raising it to his lips before letting it go completely and wandering to do whatever task needed to be done.

Natalie’s concern was palpable but the discomfort in her abdomen was worse. “Have you tried talking to her?” The shaky breath she let out filtered between the two of them.

Carmen’s eyes finally snapped to hers taking in the uncomfortable expression on her face, “Sug?” He waited for Nat to focus on him. “You good?” The question hung in the air as Natalie tried to even out her breathing.

Using his sister's obvious discomfort to deflect from the conversation she was insistent on having wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he’d rather put his sister’s well-being before being forced to think about how long it had been since he last spoke to you; he last saw you.

Carmy watched as Sug raised a closed hand to her mouth suppressing the urge to gag. “Yeah good, I’m good.” The forced smile on her lips did nothing to fool Carmy, but he wouldn’t force the issue.

“Can you uh, explain to me again how we’re doing, I spaced.” His fingers raised to run through his hair a small grimace painting his face at the grime he could feel left behind on his fingertips.

“Seven weeks out, Carm, and still so much to be done,” An exhausted sigh breathed through Natalie’s lips. The stress opening this restaurant caused felt extremely unnecessary considering her current status.

“No yeah I heard that,” Carmy nodded his head rapidly, Sug’s words slowly coming back to him. He squinted his eyes, hand scratching the grown-out stubble on his chin.  “You uh said something about the DBA getting rejected?”

“About that.” Natalie’s voice trailed off one hand pressing into her abdomen to ease the ache, “The name’s taken.”

Nat watched as Carmy processed the words, her discomfort felt like it was increasing as the seconds passed by.

“Who the fuck could’ve taken the name?” The idea perplexed Carmy. There was no chance another business could have the same name, well there was, it was just slim as hell.

Nat shrugged just as confused as Carmy “It’s been trademarked for years, whoever filed has all legal rights to the name.”

“Fuck me!” The pitch of Carmy’s voice rose along with his irritation.

Natalie’s own mumbled expletive was drowned out by Carmy’s outburst, the nauseating morning sickness she was experiencing came in an extra hard bout today.

“Yo, Sug…Sug. You sure you’re okay?” Carmy’s concern now outweighed his confusion, Nat’s weird behavior this whole morning was beginning to worry him.

“I can do this Carmy right, tell me I can do this.” Natalie’s breathing began to increase as a slight panic flooded through her. Carmy watched her with wide eyes, no idea what she could even be talking about.

“Tell me I can do it, Carm!” The wave of nausea subsided with her yell, Carmy’s hands raised in the air to divert blame.

“Fuck okay! You can do it Sug.”

“I am…completely terrified. And I’m only telling you because..I don’t know. Just-just in case.” Natalie nodded to herself as a way to provide her nerves with courage.

Carmy just stared at Natalie still not following where she was leading this conversation to.

“I really want this to be loving and good and happy,” A smile rose to Nat’s face “I just..I don’t want anyone to know…well besides Baby and now you.”

Carmy’s eyes focused on Sug’s abdomen, the pieces of the puzzle slowly fitting together in his head. The name she spoke felt like it was echoing through his ears.

“Sure” He wasn’t sure how to react to the news, he had always assumed Natalie would be the first of the siblings to start a family. And as the years passed by he knew it was a desire he himself had.

“I really don’t want Richie to know. Because somehow, it feels more in my control when and who knows…” The sound of the wall falling caused Nat to raise her voice as she finished her sentence. “That I’m pregnant.” Her final words were spoken just loud enough to alert the crew to her news.

“I fuckin’ knew it.” The sound of Richie’s shout grated on Nat’s nerves, but the quiet congratulations helped to ease her ire a bit.

Carmy was happy for Sugar, but it felt like it was setback after setback for the restaurant and all the personal issues he was dealing with weren't helping his stress. He felt his shoulders sag a bit mind racing as to how the name could already be trademarked, or who would’ve trademarked it.

His eyes found Richie’s as the man cajoled about how he knew Natalie was pregnant this whole time. Had Richie told someone the name and they took it for themselves? Did Mikey somehow trademark it while on a bender? The thought made Carmy’s head hurt what the fuck even was the point of opening this restaurant if they couldn’t use the name. The name was the epitome of the restaurant.

If you were here Carmy knew you would've given him an analogy for how he was feeling, you would’ve told him he was like Atlas holding up the sky or whatever he did. He shook his head trying to rid himself of thoughts of you, it wasn’t helping him in the least.

As much as he’d rather not converse with Richie, he needed to get to the bottom of this trademark business.

“Yo, Cousin!” The words felt wrong escaping Carmy’s lips the two men avoided each other in the same way you avoided Carmen.

The agitation on Richie’s face was instant, Carmy knew he fucked up with you, but the cold shoulder he was getting from Richie felt unnecessary.

Nat watched as the two men locked eyes, not too keen on playing referee for these two again. She looked in Carmy’s direction as Richie began making his way over, trying to gauge what was going through her little brother's mind.

“Carmen,” Richie nodded in acknowledgment to Carmy. Richie would be lying if he said he wasn’t purposefully using Carmy’s government name to rile him up, he knew how much Carmy hated it when you did it, and since you weren’t here someone had to uphold the tradition.

Carmy felt his eye twitch Richie’s immaturity since the argument with you felt never-ending. “Did Mikey ever trademark the name?”

Richie frowned looking between him and Nat the assumption that he had any goddamn clue laughable “What the fuck did Mikey look like trademarking shit? Wasn’t I just slangin’ crack to keep the lights on?”

Carmy’s eyes shut as Nat let out a quiet gasp, watching as Richie raised his hands in defense. Maybe running a back alley drug ring wasn’t the best for business, but without it, they may not have been in this moment renovating the restaurant.

“Well someone fucking trademarked it, Richie.” The attitude Carmy was catching was wholly unwelcome.

“I don’t like your tone, Carmen,” Richie matched Carmy’s energy giving him what he was getting. “All I’m sayin’ is Mikey didn’t trademark it whoever did might…I dunno hypothetically deserve an apology in return for said documents.”

Carmy was at his wits end with the older man “Oh so you’re the fucking Riddler now.”

“Baby trademarked the name?” Nat’s voice traveled between the trio at the same time as Carmen’s snarky remark. Carmy’s head shot to her, confused as to how she concluded you had anything to do with the conversation at hand.

“Bingo!” Richie’s hands came together in a loud clap Sydney rolled her eyes at the obnoxious man before looking over the various work orders. “She did that shit years ago and gave it to Mikey as a present, he…left it for her when he passed.”

A quiet fell over their small group, each of them taking in the gesture. Richie had only become privy to the present when he went through the office to try and make sense of what the hell Mikey was doing to keep the business up and running. He had knocked a framed picture of your group off the desk cleaning up the mess only to find the folded trademark document in the back of the broken picture frame.

Your name was haphazardly scribbled into the back of it.

Carmen’s chest heaved as he let the news wash over him, it seemed since the two of you had your falling out the universe was continuously pushing him to interact with you. He raised his hand to his face, rubbing it up and down as he added another item to the long list of things going wrong with the restaurant.

In a way, learning that you were responsible for trademarking the name made Carmy’s chest feel warm. It felt like you wanted this for Mikey just as much as he did, the two of you both supporting Mikey in ways the other never knew. It also gave him an excuse to speak with you, not that he needed one. If he was a better man he would’ve already worked up the courage to reach out to you. He could feel a headache coming on the more he thought about trying to fix things with you.

Carmen was sure he’d figure things out soon, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could figure things out with you not by his side. Which he would admit was quite ironic considering all the times he had willingly pushed you away. But being pushed away by you had proven to him just how badly he was screwing things up with you, to hear you be so upset by his actions he basically forced you into confessing your love stung him to his core.

Carmy wasn’t exactly sure what love was supposed to feel like, but he was almost positive it wasn’t this. The ache in his chest from not being around you, looking for you in every crowd he was in. Soaking up any conversation your name was mentioned in. Maybe he did know what love was supposed to feel like, because for all the time he had been in love with you, he had never once felt so completely and utterly broken as he had been since not fighting for your love a year ago like he should have.

“That was Nat,” you looked up as Pete returned to the table, a smile growing on your face at how happy he looked to have been speaking with his wife. “Cat’s out of the bag! Our pregnancy is no longer top secret!”

Pete’s excitement was contagious, your smile growing wider at his pure joy. “Our pregnancy?” You chuckled never having heard anyone refer to it as if the pregnancy was shared.

You watched as Pete sipped the water in front of him, a signature goofy smile back on his face. “Of course! I mean yeah Nat is carrying the baby, but I’m just as pregnant as she is.” You gave Pete a confused look, a laugh bubbling out of you.

“You laugh now Baby, but I’m serious.” Pete paused as the waiter brought out the bread for your table, both of you quickly thanking them. “Nat’s my partner you know? And I’m so grateful for her providing me the opportunity to be a father. Allowing me to build with her, for us to come together and bring a child into this world, it’s a beautiful thing I love her ya know.”

The sheen in Pete’s eyes was enough to make you emotional you didn’t need to hear his explanation to know how much Pete loved Natalie, you could just see it in the way he looked at her, in the way his face would light up when anyone would mention her name or ask about her.

“I’m happy that Nat has someone like you to build a life with.” Both you and Pete shared misty-eyed smiles, chuckles leaving each of you at how emotional the small things made both of you.

“Looks like that dinner you were planning just turned into a full-blown baby shower!” The loud clap Pete’s hands made startled you. “Wow, it really will be a Baby shower!”

You watched as Pete laughed at his own pun, doing your best not to laugh along with him and encourage his bad jokes. The relationship you developed with Pete was a bit weird in the beginning, you weren’t the most open to the idea, and it’s not because you didn’t like Pete, it just felt like you were replacing Mikey.

It took a while before you could look at Pete and realize he wasn’t trying to replace Mikey’s role in your life, and that the drugs and paranoia had driven you to that conclusion. Pete was a great man, standing by Natalie’s side while she fought to keep you alive. Probably being more accepting than someone else may have been when he and Nat decided to help you. Pete and Natalie both put aside their own lives to help you get better, and get back on your feet, and while part of you wished Mikey was around to ground you as well, Pete’s love and kindness didn’t deserve to be taken for granted.

“That dinner was supposed to be a surprise for you too Peter,” you shot him a tiny glare before reaching for some bread. “I just wanted you both to have a nice night off together, no stress.” The reservation had already been made, but thinking about Pete’s words and the excitement when explaining most everyone knew about the pregnancy, maybe it would have been best for an intimate shower for the two soon-to-be parents.

Pete was definitely a family guy and Natalie came from a big family, maybe a shower would be for the best. Surround them with people who loved and supported them and just allow everyone to bask in the happiness the joyous news brought, you were sure everyone could use a break.

“Okay hypothetically say I put together a small shower for the two of you, is that even something Nat would want?” Sure you knew Nat but Pete was her husband and this was their moment, you didn’t want to ambush her with a party she never wanted.

You watched Pete bristle a little, a nervous smile raised to his lips, “I uh I’m not sure if Nat ever told you but she kinda had this…this whole dream about the two of you,” you frowned confused at what Pete was talking about.

“Well not like an unconscious sleeping dream, more like a-an idea?” Pete’s voice rose at the end of his sentence, not sure if the question in his tone was meant for you or him.

“Pete bud you lost me.” You gave him a small nod of encouragement awaiting his response.

“Um so…after your uh…loss,” a sad smile rose to Pete’s lips, you could see the apology in his eyes. “Nat she uh…she confided in me about how she always wanted to be the one to throw you a shower if you ever decided to have children. And if-when we had our own she’d want you to be in charge of hers…if you wanted to not like she would force you.” The nervous huff of laughter from Pete hung in the air for a minute.

The admission perplexed you, Nat had never brought this up to you directly and maybe it was because she felt like she couldn’t. You weren’t the most open when it came to the topic of your miscarriage always avoiding the conversation whenever Nat tried to breach it.

“Baby…you’re the closest thing Natalie has to a sister. I can promise she would be ecstatic no matter what decision you choose.”

You nodded, the motion happened unconsciously as you tried to take in everything Pete had laid on you. Of course, there were things Nat wouldn’t share with you, but while the two of you were like sisters you didn’t expect her to share every little detail with you. As you let Pete’s words digest you couldn’t help the warm feeling beginning to flood through your body, if you were being honest you weren’t sure if it was the best idea to be throwing anyone a baby shower, but you also knew Natalie deserved to be celebrated, not only for the life she and Pete were creating together, but also for all the work she was doing to ensure that The Bear had a fighting chance.

“Okay,” your head continued its up-and-down motion. “Yeah okay let’s do it but I’m going to need your help, Pete.” You watched the smile on his face increase tenfold, your own wide smile spreading your lips due to how contagious Pete’s joy was.

“Anything and I mean anything Baby, I am your guy.” Pete’s giddiness warmed you even more, you didn’t think you had ever been surrounded by anyone with such a positive attitude before. In the beginning, when Natalie and Pete first began dating, his electric personality was a bit much but you found yourself always trying to make Pete feel included, especially with how off-putting the rest of the Berzatto clan could be.

And when you were recovering it was almost like you had to re-acclimate yourself to Pete’s personality. Your recovery was hard, there were some days you weren’t even sure if you wanted to get better or if you wanted oxygen to continue filling your lungs. But Pete was so positive and always looking at life and your situation with a ‘glass half full’ mentality, that his constant belief in you helped to make the hard days easier.

A small sigh escaped your lips as you readied yourself for the question you were about to ask. “Pete, do you think you could give me Carmen’s number?” You tried not to roll your eyes as you saw Pete’s own light up, you were almost positive he would be telling Nat about this topic of conversation. “Before you get any ideas, I just need it to invite him to the shower.” You raised your hands in defense hoping Pete wouldn’t look into this any more than he already was.

“No can do B, the idea train has already left the station.” His fingers drummed on the table with excitement. “But I will do you one better,” you frowned as you watched Pete pick up his phone, fingers skating across the screen before he held it up to show you. A call to Carmen already going through as Pete sent you a thumbs-up.

You looked at the screen eyes wide, the shock temporarily paralyzed for a moment. The quiet sound of the ringing between the two of you brought you back. “Pete! Hang up the phone.” Your voice was terse as you spoke trying not to draw too much attention from other patrons.

Pete laughed, “He never answers my calls anyway.” Pete’s words irritated you, but you were glad to see the call go to voicemail before Pete pressed the end call button and set his phone down.

You let out a surprised laugh, Pete had definitely been too influenced by the Berzattos during his time with Natalie. The little stunt he just pulled was something you knew both Richie and Mikey would do if given the chance.

“Baby?” Your head raised eyes meeting Pete’s, “I know this may sound selfish, but I…I need you to figure out this thing between you and Carmen.” Your eyebrows furrowed the need to defend yourself hitting you full force, you opened your mouth to respond but stopped as Pete raised his hand, a signal to let him continue.

“I know Baby, I know. I’ll be honest with you, as much as I love Nat’s family I think you should’ve given up on Carmen a long time ago.” Your jaw fell slack, and Pete’s eyes widened a bit. “No, no just for your own wellbeing, your peace of mind.” You began nodding as Pete explained himself better. “I just, whatever is going on between you and Carmen, it’s affecting Nat. And she won’t tell you because you deserve to feel how you feel, but with the baby and the restaurant…she doesn’t need to play "Fix it Felix” with you and Carmen right now.”

You let out a small chuckle at Pete’s explanation, over the years he had begun expressing himself to you more. You being the only one on Natalie’s side who actually gave him the time of day and willfully listened to him, helped him to gain more confidence when around the rest of the Berzattos. You reached for your glass of water, taking a long sip before setting it down.

“Thank you, Pete, for being honest,” you sighed, finger playing with the condensation on your cup. “If I’m being honest, it's easy to forget that Nat’s in the middle of everything. She’s so good at pretending it doesn’t affect her.” A rueful smile rose to your lips, as great as a friend as Natalie had been to you through everything, you weren’t sure the same could be said for yourself. “You’re right, Carmen and I are adults, we should be able to figure this out ourselves. I’ll…I’ll call him, figure things out.” You sent Pete a small smile.

Recently it felt like Natalie and Pete nursed you back to health and then for some reason became your surrogate parents. You didn’t think there was anything wrong with leaning on them, the three of you did endure a traumatic experience together so it was understandable. But maybe you had become too comfortable and relied on them too much to ‘fix’ your life. You could understand where Pete was coming from and he had every right to put his wife’s well-being before the feelings of his friends.

You knew Natalie and Pete would be amazing parents and of course, Nat’s fears were valid. But you had seen firsthand just how loving, caring, and kind the couple was, and while that wasn’t all that went into raising a child it was like a part of you just knew that their child would be in great hands.

“Enough about my poor life choices Pete, have you guys thought of any names?” The timing of the question couldn’t have been more perfect, Pete perked up at the question, eyes glazing over with excitement. A waiter stopped by your table to deliver your entrees as Pete began animatedly explaining his and Nat’s process for picking names.

A part of you ached at how happy Pete was, if things were different, maybe in another life you would’ve been able to see that excitement on another man’s face. Maybe the two of you would’ve come up with your own system for picking out names.

You listened as lunch continued, no matter how many times the thought had crossed your mind, you would always be grateful that Natalie had found a partner to love her in the ways she deserved.

 It was silent between you and Cortez as you made your second lap around the block, the church in the distance behind you. Your hands were preoccupied with a warm disposable cup of hot cocoa as Cortez gingerly sipped his choice of tea. This had become the routine for your meetings with your sponsor, the two of you would meet at the bodega a little ways away from the church that housed both AA and NA meetings. Then continue your meeting with a few circles around the block before ending at the church stairs when all was said and done.

The air was tense between the two of you, Cortez hadn’t taken kindly to your decision to skip out on the few check-ins that you had asked for. In the beginning, you were in constant contact with Cortez, feeling the match between the two of you out. As you progressed through recovery and got back into the routine of daily life the daily talks between the two of you began to dwindle as you settled into life as a recovering addict.

But after that initial meeting at The Beef, being in Carmen’s presence again, surrounding yourself with Richie and the life you once knew, the meetings with Cortez picked back up in frequency. And you were doing fine for some time, the man meeting with you when you needed it, always willing to speak with you whenever you asked and it was helpful, god was it helpful. But then you made it to step nine, step eight in the recovery program was its own monster that Cortez helped you through especially when it came to who didn’t need to be on your list.

You made the decision to text Cortez after admitting your faults to Richie. As great as it felt to finally be open with Richie and let him into your life, it also brought with it the urge to use again. Richie had been kind enough to take the bottle of champagne off your hands that night, but the desire to call Fak and ask if Theo had anything he could spare almost won out. But as you scrolled through your contacts the red icon hovering over the voicemail tab brought you back to your senses.

“So your friend Richie knows?” Your eyes shot to Cortez taking in his side profile before focusing back on their attention focused on the steaming paper cup of coffee gripped in their hands.

“Yeah, his daughter kind of spilled the beans.” You nodded playing with the frayed edges of your jeans.

“That’s a bit fucked up don’t cha think?” Cortez’s brows furrowed. “I mean how does his little girl know but he don’t that’s gotta hurt.”

You rolled your eyes, “Aren’t you supposed to like not be judgmental?” Cortez’s laugh felt like it was grating on your ears, as good a sponsor as he was, he had the personality of an annoying older brother you were happy not to have.

“It ain’t even judgment though, it’s an observation.” You didn’t have to be looking at him to know that annoying smirk was on his lips as he shrugged his shoulders.

You stopped as Cortez dropped his now empty cup in a trash bin on the street, “Didn’t know you received your inspector gadget certification.”

“That smart ass mouth is bouta be the reason you out here looking for a new sponsor,” you let out a cackle before taking a much-needed sip of your hot cocoa. “Sound like my daughter with that dumb shit.” If you didn’t know the man who was walking by your side, you would’ve thought he was actually upset, but you could tell by the uptick of his lips he didn’t take anything to heart.

The two of you rounded the corner coming up on the church. You watched as Cortez plopped his long limbs down on one of the steps, opting to sit on the railing. Cortez took out his pack of cigarettes bringing the box to his mouth and removing one before offering the box in your direction. You slipped one out a small laugh escaped you at the irony of everything, how you had once been so against the cancer sticks that those around you would make sure not to smoke around you. And then instead of indulging in a nicotine addiction, you turned to alcohol and prescription pills, the fact that you would smoke a cigarette here and there to appease your urges now felt a bit comical.

You leaned forward allowing Cortez to light your cigarette, “Man ain’t nothin’ like smoking on Big G’s doorstep.” Cortez’s voice filled the silence that had settled over the two of you, you took a drag of the cigarette, a small chuckle escaping you with the smoke.

“I used to hate these fucking things.” The disgust on your face was obvious even as the stick hung from your mouth.

“Why you take one every time I offer 'em’ then?” Cortez switched positions leaning his elbows on the step behind him as he stretched his long limbs out in front of them, offering a wave to the few people entering the church for whatever meeting was scheduled to take place.

You shrugged eyes falling to Cortez’s beat-up boots as you sucked the nicotine deep into your lungs, “They’re the same brand Mikey smoked.”

“Damn ma, that shits kinda sad.” The two of you locked eyes before small laughs left the both of you. You had been around Cortez for so long that you’d picked up on his need to turn most anything into a joke. And while in the beginning, it pissed you off, you realized that’s just who he was and that sometimes being able to laugh in serious moments or at your trauma was helpful.

“Nah seriously though better smokin’ these than messin’ with that shit that hooked you in the first place. Know what I mean?” You nodded, finishing off the cigarette in your hand before taking the second cigarette Cortez offered. You knew how these things went and had spent so much time with the man that you learned to read him. Cortez only ever smoked two cigarettes and offered you two if the conversation was gonna be a rough one.

“Where you at with them apologies?” You sighed letting the man light your cigarette one more time, allowing the fumes to warm your lungs.

You dropped from your seat on the railing, your backside had gone numb. You settled yourself to lean against the railing “I mean I told Richie the truth and there were a lot of apologies in that conversation. But I feel like he deserves a better apology.” You shrugged, your attention dropping to Cortez as he listened.

“Ima be honest wit chu, this might be the hardest part of recovery. Shit I know it was f’me admittin’ to my little girl her father was a fuckin’ junkie. But at the end of the day, you gotta remember this recovery shit is for you. If homeboy loves you like a sister like you say he does, all that should matter to him is that yo annoyin’ ass still here. A’ight, ma?” You listened, nodding along to his words. “All you can do is apologize for the shit you did, you can’t control whether people forgive you or not, and remember ain’t nobody gotta fuck with your apology if they don’t want to.”

You let Cortez’s words settle into you, to anyone else his words may not have seemed genuine but this is just who Cortez was. And you knew no matter how nonchalant he sounded he was speaking every word from his heart.

“You still fuckin with that lil dumbass boy?” The question caused you to choke on the last bit of cocoa in your cup.

“We had a falling out, he’s one of the people I have to apologize to though.” The cigarette between your fingers continued to burn. “There’s a lot I still haven’t told him…the substance abuse, the reasons behind my overdose.” An exhausted sigh pushed its way through your lips. It was like one thing after another when it came to you and Carmy.

“Listen I know we ain’t sposed to have like personal relationships and shit, but lemme know what homeboy looks like I’ll get my goons on em’ for you.” Your head fell back in laughter as Cortez raised his fist to under both of his eyes.

“No goons Cortez, please. Wait, have you ever actually put a hit on somebody before?” You obviously didn’t know Cortez as well as you would have if the two of you were friends. But it wasn’t hard to tell that he would get down if need be.

“Why someone say somethin’?” The two of you shared a laugh, the now more frequent people entering the church signifying that your time together was coming to an end.

“Aight, I gotta head in, get shit set up in there. But ima send you the info for Nar-Anon you give that shit to people who still choose to put up with yo ass. You comin' in?”

You shook your head sending him a small smile, “I came to the morning meetings today.”

You nodded in thanks as Cortez stood up, pushing yourself off the railing. You placed the cigarette between your lips leaving your hands open to do the handshake Cortez insisted you did after each meeting. When he first introduced it you were still getting used to the idea of being a recovering addict and thought he was fucking crazy. But you realized he used it as a way to break the serious desolate feeling that some of these meetings ended on, to help bring some light to what was such a dark reality.

At least that’s how he explained it to you, but you were sure he just liked doing the handshake his daughter helped him come up with.

“Ima see you when I see you ma stay straight.” You chuckled before turning on your heel to head to your parked car. Putting the bud of the cigarette out against the trash bin you passed. It was still early, enough time for you to knock out some baby shower shopping before it got too late.

Carmen stopped in his tracks, eyes finding your figure across the street. You were in front of the church that held the Al-Anon meetings he told you about. Maybe you would be attending the one he was here for, his eyes traveled to the man sitting on the steps you were talking to eyebrows furrowing as he realized the vapors leaving your mouth weren’t from your warm temperature, but instead the stick you had raised to your mouth.

“Baby?” The question left his lips in a quiet whisper, he knew it was you standing across the street but it had been a few weeks since your last interaction he was sure he had imagined you. But he would know you anywhere, by scent alone. He couldn’t help the shock at watching you smoke, something you had been so opposed to since the two of you were children. Even going so far as telling Carmy you couldn’t be friends when he smoked his first cigarette at 15, the stalemate barely lasted a day after you realized how dumb the idea was.

Carmy watched as the two of you stood up, his hopes to see you inside dwindling as he watched the two of you begin to part ways, an intricate handshake taking place before you turned to leave. He watched as your figure disappeared around the corner, a quiet ‘shit’ leaving his lips before he darted across the street trying to catch you before you were gone for good.

“Baby! Hey!” His shouts were useless, you were too far gone to have even heard him. “Fuck!” One hand raised to sit on the bill of his cap, the universe seemed like it was doing everything in its power to keep the two of you apart. Or maybe it was just the way things were meant to be.

Carmy turned to see the man you were with still standing in the same spot you left him, eyes narrowed as he took in Carmy’s figure. The man eyed Carmy for a moment longer, sending a head nod his way before turning and entering the church. Carmy was tempted to follow the man and ask about you, but whatever your relationship with the unknown man was, it was none of Carmy’s business.

He sighed eyes shooting up to the sky before taking a deep breath and making his way inside, not wanting to be late and disturb the Al-Anon meeting before it began. Carmy made his way to the room where the meeting usually took place, eyes landing on the same man from outside once more as he greeted members, the sign near the door he stood by signifying it was an NA meeting. Carmy stopped for a moment, eyes darting between the man and the sign he’d just read.

“You lost kid?” Carmy looked at the man brown furrowed as he shook his head, he sent a tight smile the man's way before walking two doors down for his own meeting. Carmen’s brain felt like it was racing a mile a minute. If you weren’t coming to the Al-Anon meeting, why were you here? And why were you talking with someone who appeared to be leading NA meetings?

The vibrating of his phone caught his attention, the device easily slipped out of his pocket. He felt the air leave his lungs as your name flashed across his screen, he realized just how indecent setting that Polaroid picture of you with his chain on might have been now that he was in public, but it’s not like he ever thought you’d call him.

How’d you even get his number?

“Carmen, hey, we’re about to start your coming?” His head shot up to one of the usual who attended these meetings and would talk to him on occasion.

“Yeah uh, just give me a minute.” Carmy gave a tight smile, eyes flashing back to his phone finger moving to swipe across the screen, the call abruptly ending before he even got the chance to hear your voice. Carmen was sure he had the worst luck in the world, a defeated sigh leaving him, he was almost positive there was no chance you were calling him back.

Quickly putting his phone on Do Not Disturb and in the safety of his jacket pocket, he entered the meeting, as much as he wanted to drop everything and fix things with you. He wasn’t even sure what you had called him for. Carmen also knew it was for the best to attend the meeting,

Carmen was sitting in his car allowing it to warm up as he waited. The skyline began to reflect the sunset, the time on the dashboard letting him know it was around dinner time. He fished his phone out of his pocket mindlessly checking the notifications he’d gotten while in the meeting.

Carmy’s brows furrowed at the flurry of messages he received from a group chat he wasn’t aware he was a part of. He frowned as he opened it, your contact is one of the many in the text chain. The only contact with a photo was yours, making you easily distinguishable, he realized the rest of the people in the chat were the restaurant crew. He scrolled through the messages eyes reading over your message with details about a baby shower, your address included.

Carmy exited out of his messages, unsure of how things were between the two of you. It had been three weeks since the argument and neither of you had tried contacting the other. But here he was with a message from you, and a missed call and he wasn’t sure how to take any of it.

He decided it was a good idea to call you back, and try and feel out the atmosphere between the two of you. His heart felt like it was stuttering in his chest as his finger hovered over his screen; you left him a voicemail. He needed to know what the message said, but a part of him was also worried he might not like what he heard, he had hurt you too many times to count, and if whatever you had to say to him broke him down more than he already was, well then he was sure he deserved it.

Carmen took one last deep breath before clicking on the voicemail and raising the phone to his ear, heart pounding in his chest as he heard the sweet whisper of your voice.

‘Hey Carmen, uh it’s me…Baby. Not sure why I introduced myself. I'm sure you know it’s me.” Carmy let out a watery chuckle at the sound of your voice, even if he hadn't saved your number the delicate timber of your voice would’ve been enough for him.

“Listen uh, I got your number for Pete. I hope you don’t mind, I know you have issues with girls actually having your number…Sorry, that was actually kind of rude. Anyway, I uh…Pete helped put things in perspective for me and I, I think we need to talk Carmen. I’m not sure when or if you even want that, but I think we both deserve a chance to explain our side of things. I um…I also have some things I think you should know. Just, if this is something you’re interested in, you have my number.” Carmen felt his heart rate slow down your words, nothing more than a piece offering.

“I just want to be clear though, um..if I don’t hear back from you, I’m going to take that as a sign. So yeah, call me back or something I guess.” The line finally went silent, your voice no longer caressing Carmy’s ears.

It felt like he was having heart palpitations but he knew it was just his nerves getting the best of him. He pulled the phone away from his ear, the time on his phone reading 5:30 p.m. Carmy quickly opened the group chat scrolling through to find your address and open it up in maps. You lived about 30 minutes from where he was, he was confident he could get there in 20 and spare the 10 minutes at a store near you.

Carmen made his decision as he set his phone down in the cup holder before beginning his journey. The ball was in his court, you had given him an olive branch and it was up to him whether he accepted it or not. He was nervous, maybe showing up at your house to cook you dinner wasn’t his most thought-out plan but he needed you desperately, needed to see you, be in your presence, and know that there was still a chance of something more between the two of you.

The hope Carmy felt when he saw you calling him earlier was now back tenfold: the pendant delicately resting against his chest felt warm. Carmen was adamant that he would admit his love for you tonight, unsure if he could go another day living with the fact that you were in love with him, but you still didn’t know just how much he had always loved you. You were so blissfully unaware that since he could remember, you had been the one and only option in his mind.

a/n: wowza, long time no see. i apologize that this is a bit of a filler chapter but it felt kinda necessary idk. anway please let me know if there are any problems with this chapter it's barely edited. enjoy : )

also also: both richard cabral as coco in mayans and manny montana as rio in good girls inspired cortez the sponsor, but head canon him as whoever you want…okay bye now 🤍