#of all crossover references I could’ve made

[fierykitten2]

On the topic of villagers reminding me of other fandoms while welcoming me back to skully, Zell would be great friends with Oliver Putnam (cries in finished series 3 on Friday)

[carmenized-onions]

Do the Thing! | Toilet Repair

logline; Today's itinerary: Fix the toilet, catch up with Syd, try not to cry when everyone asks you where you've been.

series history; Previous Chapter

portion; 7.1k+ (this shit got away from me man, idk what to say)

possible allergies; Negative self-talk (It's the Bear, babe, everyone's sad). I did no research on plumbing and am truly making it the fuck up-- I know for a fact I'm not using any word correctly and I simply will not be fixing it. Reader eats meat!! Specifically pork!! Your 'name' is 100% just Tony now.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'handywoman' and 'Miss' are said. Plus a chest reference).

you ever start writing and you just cannot seem to find an end so you keep going forever? yeah.

“I think my name is just Tony now.”

You sip your overpriced orange juice. You really have to fucking savour it, now a days. That’s like 25 cents a sip, and Syd’s treating you to this breakfast outing, so it’s not even your own wallet on the line here.

“You lose all sense of identity, in a restaurant.” Syd straightens her back, mocking her very own mechanical movements of whenever she steps in a kitchen. “I am Chef.”

This diner isn’t more than two blocks down from The Bear. It was probably your second favourite spot in this neighbourhood. Probably still is. Sitting in the back corner booth (your favourite) with Syd is nice but distracting. She’s been updating you on everything since the catering scene and her botched credit, and you’re absorbing all of it, you swear, it’s just hard to not remember why this was your favourite booth.

Not because it’s seats are the least worn in, not because it’s got the right amount of sun through the window without blinding you, but because of the company you kept here. You’re trying to not notice your own name carved into the table. Especially since it’s not your handiwork.

You laugh at Syd’s joke on time, thank God. No awkward pause. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are. Head, right?”

She nods. “It’s cool. It’s like, vomit-worthy stressful but also…”

“You wish you were dead when you’re there, but you’d rather be dead than do anything else?”

“Yessir.” She nods again, digging further into her pancakes. “I really fucking owe you, by the way.”

“You’re paying me off through breakfast.” You wave her off. “Plus, I was available and it was like maaayybe 5 minutes of manual labour, it’s nothing.”

“Y’know what?” She hums, “I think actually, you owe me.”

“Yeah?” You grin.” Please, let me clear my debts, Syd?”

She smiles, pointing her fork at you. “You owe me the fuckin’ Beef background I’ve apparently not unlocked. Everyone was talking about you after.”

“Good things?”

“Vague things. Shit made me even more curious.”

You laugh. No shit they’d be vague. What can they say? “When my dad was running the repairmen gig, Cicero or Fak would call him in—”

“Oh fuck.” She snaps her fingers, seemingly in realization. “Your dad’s the connection!”

“The connection?”

“Fak said he had a connection for our fire safety test shit, and then said he didn’t—”

“Ah.” You nod knowingly. “Dad cut the cord on his business phone when it transferred to me, didn’t really keep people updated. Whoops.”

She nods, taking another bite of her pancakes, speaking mid-chew. “You could’ve saved our asses way faster, and I’ll-I'll never forgive you, but continue.”

Snickering, you continue, “Well, they’d call my dad in, and then my dad would call me in as his like, like his fuckin’ Sous of Repairs. And shit broke all the time at the Beef, as I’m sure you’re well aware, so I hung out around Mikey and everyone a lot.”

“Ah. N’ then…”

“He fuckin’ died.” You laugh, because there’s no way to say it smooth, so you might as well say it bad. You stretch out your arms and lean back in the booth. “I kinda took a step back, after that, so we didn’t manage to crossover ‘til now. S’ironic that you’re the one that brought me back instead of an oldie, honestly.”

She desperately wants to ask more about Mike, but she can tell now is not the time, so she just lets it lie and moves on. “You stopped being an EMT to take up the handyman shit, then?”

“Yessir.” You nod, finishing your straggling home fries. “Just kinda made sense to trade off, and I didn’t want to see the family bizz die. Do I have to occasionally pick up shifts bartending to make rent during slow months? Yes. But I also don’t watch people die anymore, so that’s a win.”

“In a way, you’re watching people die still, just slowly.”

You bite down hard to stifle any semblance of a smile or laughter, deadpanning, just to see her squirm in awkwardness for a moment. It works with flying colours, of course it does. It’s Syd. She’s still Syd. You speak at the same time.

“Cause of the alcohol?” “Cause—Cause of the alcohol.”

You both break into laughter, she throws her napkin at you. “Can’t stand you, oh my god. Let’s go clock in.”

She pays your bill before you can try to sneak your card in, which feels all too familiar, and you’re off.

Off to fix an exploded toilet.

“How the fuck do you fix an exploded toilet?”

Your hands rub over your face, lifting your safety goggles for a second. Too fucking foggy. Too fucking sweaty. Plumbing never really was your biggest strength. You’re staring at the bane of your existence, and it’s the latrine. How far we fall.

“You good, Cousin?” You hear from behind. You don’t need to turn to know it’s Richie in the doorway. It’s a fair question, you’re sitting criss-cross in front of a toilet, head in hands.

“Yeah, Cousin, I’m good.” Your words are muffled by your hands. Fully not cousins. For the record. You would argue you're not even that close, but he'd slap you upside the head. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “Can you like, get me a pen and note pad? I need to like, strategize an attack.”

“It’s not that bad, Cousin—” “It’s that bad.” “Just tape the—” “Fuck off with the tape!”

You click your teeth, staring at the gurgling porcelain before you— At least it’s clean, it’s just fucked. “I shut the valve and it didn’t do shit. I think I have to remove it entirely so I can see what’s going on with the underground pipe.”

“Heard.” Richie and you both know that his hotfix handiwork has absolutely contributed to this penultimate mess you’re in now, but you’re both letting that go quietly for now. “You charge by hour or service?”

“Service flat rate and then after two hours it’s by hour.”

He hums, knocking his fist on the doorway a few times before walking away. “Pen and pad, Chef.”

“Not a Chef!”

“Term of Respect, Chef!”

You tap your leg incessantly, groaning like you’ve got an 80-year-old body as you stand to your feet. Richie’s grown a lot. He wears suits now. Hasn’t even poked at you for vanishing. Though you have a feeling it’s coming. If not from him, from someone.

You step out into the hall, leaned against the wall with your arms crossed as you wait for your pen and pad. And now you just have more time and a better view to take in how much has changed.

Gutted. A few walls gone. Makes sense, you told Mikey he was getting a mold problem. He never listened. Seats are new. The booths are the all-around style ones now. Ritzy. It’s too good for this neighbourhood. Is that a good thing? Yeah, right? Despite the fact that The Bear should feel out of place, you feel out of place being in it. Could you afford to eat here? Could the people who work here afford to eat here? Syd said she’s not getting paid for the next few months, so at the very least, the Head Chef can’t.

“Strange?” Tina sidles up to you on the wall, wiping her hands on her apron. Completely knocking you out of your dissociative fugue state.

“Yeah.” You nod, a little too quickly, that felt judgey, you correct, uncrossing your arms. “It’s daunting, I think; to see it all at once rather than slowly built in. Like, I know objectively this is very cool, but—”

Tina hums with understanding. “Feels gutted?”

“Was gutted.” You nod. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, it’s just, I dunno. Adjustment period, all that.”

“I needed a second too, but Jeff is good. Change has been good.” You nod like you know who Jeff is. “Carmen, I mean.” Your nod is now significantly more understanding. She smiles, you’re a little surprised to see Tina’s got a lot more insight than she used to. She pulled the thought of Carmen right out of your subconscious before you even detected it for yourself. “He’s good. You’ll see.”

You nod. You know the good she means is not Michelin Star Good. You already know that. He’s Mikey good. Person good. You clear your throat. “How’s Louis?”

“Good. Y’know, he’s getting to that age, getting in trouble. S’been a while since he’s had a good influence.” She nudges you. There it is. There’s the poke. The ‘where have you been?’ The ‘it’s been a year’. The— “Y’know, Chef didn’t come to the funeral neither.”

That one you didn’t expect, your head swivels to her hard. “Carmen didn’t go?”

His brother didn’t go? Oh, who the fuck are you to judge...

She nods, practically with her whole body, she looks more amused than anything. But like, mom amused. The worst amused. “You’re both the sensitive type.”

You cock your head at her, raising a brow. Smirking slightly. “Wow, Tina, I thought you changed too but you still talk your shit, eh?”

“I’m not talking shit!” She laughs, hands up in defence. “I’m just saying, you’re alike.” You hope that the laughter makes her forget the topic but it doesn’t.

“Where have you been?” She softens. She’s not asking to be mean, she’s asking out of concern. Why does that make it feel worse?

You tuck your hands in your pockets and retrain your eyes on hers, even if it feels bad. “Thought time and distance would heal all wounds.”

“Did they?”

Before you can answer, “Pen delivery, cousin!” Richie returns, triumphantly, with a pen and pad held high in the sky. He makes you jump for it. You elbow him in the gut, not hard. “Fuck off, Rich…” He keels over enough for you to grab it. “Thank you, chef.”

You turn back to Tina, who you now realize has spent half her smoke break on you. She nods to you, and then the bathroom door. “I’ll let you get back to it.” You nod in return. When she turns to walk away, you grab her shoulder.

“Tina.” She turns again. You should say something. Something vulnerable and thankful. Words of affirmation are not your thing. But maybe they could be, “If you end up with a dead plate—” Or maybe not.

She grins, and part of you is concerned by this, but she waves you off, giggling like she knows something you don’t. Already walking off. “You’re gonna be taken care of, Terry, don’t worry.”

This is a bad new nickname scheme. The fridge guy is just gonna end up being called ‘fridge guy’ if you take all his names.

It’s maybe three hours later. 11 am ish. You’ve finally put the toilet back in place, the pipes fixed underground— Which is a huge win of progress, the problem is, it’s just seemed to open the toilet’s ability to have other problems that need to be addressed. There’s a strong chance you’ll be here until you die. And even after that, this stupid toilet will still be gurgling, outliving you.

But you seriously have to eat something, so you scrub yourself clean, set your safety equipment down, and head out of the bathroom for a much-needed stretch of the legs— And to hopefully get a plate from Tina.

On your way to the kitchen, you’re stopped and walked backwards to a booth in the corner by Richie. “Hey, Miss, happy to serve you today, my name’s Richard but you can call me Richie, how’re you doin’ this fine morning?”

They’ve yet to open front of house, so you play along, taking your seat with a laugh. “I’m doing perfect, Richie, how are you?”

He nudges the air . “Ey, better now that you’re here, ah? Can I get a drink started for you?”

“Really gonna practice your set on me?”

He shrugs, still smiling. “If you don’t use it, you lose it.”

You hum, then rub your temples, the headache is setting in— Not cause of him, just been a tough morning. “Just your coldest fuckin’ glass of water, Rich.”

“Right away, Cousin.” He slips off into the kitchen.

When the door swings open again, it’s not Richie coming with your ice water, but Carmen— It’s your first time seeing him since the walk-in. When you came in this morning with Syd, it was Nat that gave you the quick briefing on the schedule and goals for today.

“Tony.” He hums, corners of his mouth just slightly upturned. The nickname has stuck. Goddamn. He sets the water down in front of you, along with a plate— Covered by a cloche—Or the silver lid thing, whatever.

“Carmy.” You only mean to mimic his tone, but then cringe. “Is Carmy fine?”

He pauses mid slide into the booth, sitting across from you. He seemed all cool and collected and is now suddenly extremely caught off guard. Already sweaty. “Y-yeah, I’m better, thank you—”

“No, I meant—” It is so difficult to hold back laughter. You deserve an Oscar.

You’re not doing great to be fair but like, still, Oscar worthy attempt.

“I meant like, like is the nickname okay?”

The horrors just keep piling on his face, and you can’t help but feel guilty. No shit he feels like he’s starting on a lower playing field here. You knew his dead brother, you know his Head Chef, your first time meeting him was at quite possibly his lowest moment and biggest mistake— Of which you had to coax him out of, and now he’s misunderstanding every innocent question you have for a inquiry into his psyche.

He clears his throat for objectively too long of a time. “Carmy is fine. Tony is fine?”

“I’m doing okay, yeah.”

Thank God, he laughs, awkward sure but objectively amused.

You nod down to the covered plate, smiling, “Fuck is this?”

He leans forward in his seat to get a hand over the lid. “I, uh. Made you a thing. As thanks or like, an— an apology.”

Ah. That’s why Tina was laughing about you getting taken care of.

He lifts the lid, and what is revealed, if you weren’t careful, would be enough to make you cry. Thankfully, the shock registers as uproarious laughter, one that Carmen cannot help but join.

“What the fuck?”

Pork brisket sandwich. Something that Mikey made for you, specifically. Because you said one time you were more of a pork fan than beef and he absolutely lost it. In a cute way, though. Said ‘Oh, I’ll make you fuckin’ pork, alright?’ You’re not sure if he won or lost the argument, because you did find it better.

“I, uh, we had some cuts left over that we weren’t gonna be able to fuckin’ use, and uh, Tina showed me this, this recipe card, last night.” He slides over the very same brisket recipe Mikey had written down. Little doodles of angry faces and Xs over pigs in the margins.

“He was so fuckin’ mad.” You snort, looking at it. “All I fuckin’ said was I had a preference!”

“In The Beef!”

“He asked!” You quickly defend, through laughter. “And it tastes fucking good. All he did was prove my fuckin’ point— And spent hours doing it. Were you here overnight for this, slowcooking?”

He shakes his head, though there’s a hesitation in it— So you’re not privy to completely believe him. He sniffs, swiping at his nose “I, uh, just came in early. Had to fix some shit anyways.”

He’s staring at the sandwich, then occasionally you, expectantly. You look at him with equal expectance.

“Well?” You start.

“Well?” He astutely adds.

You nod down at the dish. “Do the thing.”

“The thing?”

You pick up one half of the sandwich, but you’ve got no plans of eating until he satisfies this craving first.

“The thing Syd does where she explains why she’s proud of her dish and why I should care. I know it’s Mikey’s, but you clearly made changes.”

“Oh. Uh…” He was both expecting and not expecting this soap box. “So, followed the rub to a T— Well, with a salt bed, this time. Put it on brioche instead of the old shit. And I uh, added uhm—” He snaps his fingers, staring at the sandwich in your hand. “Added pickled red onion, for acid and sweet, and garlic confit. I’m—I’m happy with my spin on it.”

You whistle as a form of praise, he flushes with a glow of pride and is desperately trying to not show it. He’s proud because it’s curated, personal. Ah, he is Mikey good. You nod and take a bite, trying to control your reaction. Worst part about having Artists as friends (especially chefs): They fucking stare so hard when you’re taking in their work. And they’re over analyzing every micro expression. He’s no different.

Fuck. It’s fucking good. Is it bad that it’s better than anything Mikey ever made? Nah, that’s how he’d want it.

“Ah fuck, that sucks—” Is the first thing you say, and his face falls, “Expensive food is worth it.” Right back up. Easy to please. “It’s really good, Chef. Thank you. Did you try it yet?”

He shakes his head, so you push the plate with the other half of the sandwich— It’s brisket, anyways. You’ll be full by the end of this one. Portions generous. He looks momentarily hesitant, which is cute, but inevitably leans forward and takes the sandwich. He nods with each chew.

He hums when he finishes chewing, pointing emphatically at you, though his voice is neutral. “You don’t like something, though.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong with it?” He stares at into the cross section of his bite. “Chewy? Texture?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” You’re quick to deny.

He shakes his head, hand over his mouth to hide the sauce on his mouth. “M’not gonna be hurt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the dish, Carmen.” You take another bite to prove your point. Also you’re hungry. Two things can be true.

He zones in on the emphasis immediately. “It’s the plate, isn’t it? I told Syd—”

“Your tables aren’t bolted.” You interrupt, swiftly. Mouth semi-full.

“Huh?”

You put your sandwich down and swallow, taking your time with it. “Your booth tables.”

You knock on the pristine wood with the joints of your left hand. You swivel your body to look under the table, he follows suit, meeting you there. His left leg has been violently shaking, but he’s thought you wouldn’t notice it until now.

You put a hand on his knee to stop the shaking. He bristles, slightly, but you’re not even doing it on purpose. Your focus isn’t on him. It was making the table imperceptibly shift— Which, of course, you clocked. You tap your foot to the bottom of the table leg. No screws. “They aren’t bolted down.”

You lift yourself back up, moving your hand back to yourself in tandem. He stares at it for a little longer. How you noticed that, he will never know. Repairmen are a different breed…

“I just thought it was a weird choice. Nothing wrong with it, per say. Maybe you wanna test different layouts.” You shrug, taking another bite.

“The booths aren’t bolted either.” He adds, lifting his head up above the table, finally. “I don’t— we’re not gonna fuck with the layout, I don’t think.”

“Should get Fak on that, then.”

“Fak’s big-timing us.” You cock your brow, mid chew. He explains. “He’s focusing on hosting, f'now.”

You nod, swallowing, hand in front of your mouth so you can lick the sauce off your upper lip in non-humiliated peace. “This another job for me, then?”

“If you’ll take it.”

“If your fuckin’ toilet doesn’t kill me, I will.”

“How’s that going?”

You shake your hand so-so. “Ask me in two to three hours how it’s going.”

“Heard.” He sighs, leaning back in the booth. The stress is too apparent not to ask.

“How’s the second day open going?”

“I’m not in a fuckin’ freezer, so that’s a win.” Oh-ho, he’s acknowledging it. You were very comfortable forgetting that moment for his sake. “Thanks, uh, f’ that.”

You shake your head, shrugging off the thanks. You lift your last few bites of the sandwich to him. “You’re good. You’ve gifted me brisket. You relax since?”

“Not really.” He replies bluntly, taking a deep inhale. He pulls at his face from the top down, with both hands. Oof. Bad sign. “I think I’ll be good by tomorrow. Gonna get off early, tonight.”

“You don’t seem happy about that.”

“Ask me in two t’ three days if I’m happy about it.”

Back to work and this is taking so much fucking longer than it needs to take. Why is there tape there? Fucking Richie. Fucking Fak. Fucking Mikey. Godssake. Pipes are fixed. Water pressure is fixed. What the fuck is still wrong with it? What the fuck is wrong with you? Everyone is going to hate you if you can’t fix this. You’ve been here for like 5 hours and you can’t figure out what’s fucking wrong here? You’re nothing. You’re—

The toilet does you the favour of knocking you out of your episode by spraying you in the fucking face, soaking through the top of your jumpsuit. With a groan, you unzip the upper half and tie the wet sleeves around your waist. “Son-of-a-bitch.”

Maybe you just need a change in task for a second. Also, a new t-shirt, because your tank did not survive the waterworks either. This room isn’t the thing you need right now. You slip down the hall to the kitchen. “Who needs a coffee? Or water?”

There’s a chorus of orders, all of which sound like you’ve just asked ‘who wants a gift from God?’, which, you might as well have. This is what you like about being a handyman. The relief you bring. You just need a smidge of praise to get through the rest of this job. You’ve got this.

The small, but serviceable coffee machine in very back of the kitchen calls your name, but Richie sticks his arm out, blocking you from walking past expo up front.

“Hol’ up, Cousin, you look like a fuckin’ wet dog.”

“Well, what ‘ya gonna do about it?” You retort, despite the retort not honestly making any sense, you put your hands on your hips. “Do you want a fuckin’ coffee or not?”

He rolls his eyes, falling back onto the balls of his feet before walking off. “Ey, Sug, are those shirts still in the basement—”

You’ve won for now. You scrub your hands clean before getting to work. This is good. Oooh, Marcus has fresh coffee beans (that he’s willing to share!)— This is easy. You can already fix most broken things, but a machine that actually fucking works? Baby, you can make that sing.

Plus, the bartending gigs you’ve done don’t make you a barista by any means, but they certainly don’t hurt. Oooh, Marcus has syrups! Fuck it. Steamed and frothed milk. That toilet has you on your ass, you need to go above and beyond here. Make each cup personal. You need a win in the form of admiration.

You gather a tray of coffees (and a water for Sweeps, who is too fucking sweaty for a hot drink right now, so fair), all varying in milks, sugars, syrups, intensity. “Coffee run, I hand ‘em out, don’t just take! Corner!”

Ebra, to no one’s shock, likes his coffee black— But, and he’ll tell no one this, you just know it on instinct— He likes it a little too watery. “Good.” Who are you to judge? He likes what he likes.

Tina would take hers black for simplicity, if you let her, but of course you don’t. 2 sugars, foamed milk, chocolate and cinnamon syrup. “Too good to me.” It’s too worth it, when she says it like that and slaps your cheek. Balm of the soul.

Marcus, who watched you make these, did opt to let his imagination run too wild and added one of every syrup to his own cup, wanting to experiment with you. It doesn’t taste good. You switch it for a spiced coffee when he’s not looking. He’s silently very thankful.

After handing out a few more to the new cooks, you come up to Syd. “Take this one, take this one.” Then whisper, so no one knows you are displaying supreme favouritism. “It’s the one oat milk latte I made.”

She turns to you from her station, then darts looks over her shoulder like she’s making an under the table deal before grabbing it from you. She takes a delighted sip, eyes rolling just slightly in the relief of caffeine, she nods. “Fire, Chef.” Ah. This will get you through the day alone.

It also gets you through the willpower it takes to ignore Fak running by you to steal a coffee off your tray. Out of the corner of your eye, you point to the one meant for him— As if you didn’t make it for him, c’mon…

“How’s bathroom?” Syd asks, taking another long sip.

I’m going to fucking explode, not unlike your drainage pipe. “Needed a thinking break, but I’ve made a lot of progress. How’s kitchen?”

“Made a lot of progress. Auto-piloting through this prep.” She looks down at her cutting board, cracking back to it. “Latte helps, a lot, thank you. You should join for family, if you’re still here for it. Unless you don’t want more brisket.”

Fuck. She doesn’t think you’re so slow that you’re gonna be here until family, does she? “Yeah, maybe.” You look around, three coffees still on the tray. “...Where’s Carmen?”

She grimaces. Uh oh. The tension she glossed over at breakfast is still definitely there. She nods her head to the back door. “Smoke break. Or temper tantrum. I don’t fuckin’ know. Don’t tell him I said that.” You laugh, nodding. “You think a coffee would help—” “Please.”

“Corner!” Yells Richie, returning to you. He silently flicks out a shirt for you, holding it up proudly, ‘THE BERF’ stares back at you. You give it a solid five seconds to process before you say anything.

“Collector’s item...” You nod, tone sarcastically impressed. You pivot your shoulder for him to throw it over, hands too busy.

“That’s what I fuckin’ said!” He throws it over your shoulder. “No one fuckin’ listens, these days.”

You bite back laughter and nod, handing him his coffee. Hot. Dark. Two sugars. And, to his delighted surprise, a touch of cinnamon syrup. “Oh, fuck, missed your twists, Chip.”

You wince at what was a long-forgotten nickname, and so does Richie. Funny how remembering origins can do that to you. He’d just said it so instinctively, really. “My bad—”

“Chip is good.” You interrupt, rolling your shoulders back. And it is good, really. “It’s kinda—It’s kinda comforting.” It’s nice to not forget. He nods, and you give each other the ‘we are still so fucked, eh?’ smile before lovingly bumping shoulders as he returns to expo and you head to the back alley.

Carmen’s squatting, cigarette in one hand, creating a halo of smoke around him, and his phone in the other. He snaps out of his mental fog when the door opens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his apron like he’s got a secret to hide.

You hesitate at the doorway, maybe this is not the moment. “Sorry, Chef, I just wanted to offer a coffee? If you need air alone—”

“No, no, I’m good—” He’s quick to correct, then even quicker to correct himself. “I— I’ll take a coffee, I mean. You can stay, s’fine.”

He reaches for it when you sit next to him, but you pull the tray back to hand him the correct one. “Sorry, I—I like, did a thing, for yours. I dunno how you take your coffee, so I thought I’d do it weird.”

He takes the cup, eying it curiously. “Do it weird?”

“Do it like, like a Chef. Can’t make anything fuckin’ simple. The lot of you.”

He hums, amused, staring at the cup, then looks at you expectantly. “Well?”

“Well?”

“Do the thing.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, fuck off.”

“C’mon, tell me why I should care.” He teases.

“Ah, fuck.” You sniff, oh to have your own words turned on you. Looking at the coffee in his hands, “I figured you’d like strong black coffee, but like, complex. So, it’s got like, cardamom and lavender n’ maple syrup. Shout out Marcus.” He smiles. “And then, I know I did just say black coffee but I wanted the aesthetic so I spooned foamed milk on top and sprinkled on some dried lavender.” You take your own cup in hand, putting the tray down. “If you hate it, we’ll trade.”

He pays close attention to your explanation. Man, his eye contact is simultaneously so soft and so scary. He takes a sip. Let’s it sit in his mouth for a second. “Excellent, Chef.”

Oh, if Syd’s ‘Fire’ could get you through the day, Carmen’s ‘Excellent’ will get you through the week to spare. You hide the way you beam by drinking your own coffee.

“How’re you doing?” It’s far too obvious that he’s had something heavy on his head all day, but you’re not going to say the quiet part loud, yet.

He takes a long time to respond. “I, uh…” And when he does, it’s weak. “I’m alright, yeah. I’m alright.”

You nod repeatedly, digesting the huge lie. “Ask me how I’m doing.”

He squints. “…How’re you—”

“Fuckin’ terrible, Carm.” You cut him off, putting your cup down next to him, standing up. You speak emphatically, gesturing with your whole body.

“I’m at my wits, Chef. Completely out of my depth. I fix the main pipe, I fix the water pressure, I triple check the tank, I fuckin’ power cycle the valve— I’m absolutely at a loss as to why it’s still gurgling— Why it shot water straight at my tits— Close your eyes, if you care, by the way.”

With barely any warning you peel off your tank top, you’ve got a bra, it’s fine. It’s very cute that he still looks away. You slip the new shirt over your head as you speak, muffling the words.

“—I’m wearing a shirt that says Berf, and the only way I can feel any semblance of not being utterly useless is by making coffees so good everyone has to praise me for them. And now I’m telling the fucking owner, my boss for the day all this.”

He nods, slowly. There is perhaps, not a single person in his life that has ever been this forthright. Someone he hasn’t had to over-analyze or dig into to figure out what’s actually going on. It is refreshing, terrifying, and for some reason, removing your walls have completely shattered his.

“So.” You lower your head to his level where he sits. “How are you doing, Chef?”

He takes a long sip of his coffee. Stews on the question before he spills his guts, calmly. “I’m sitting outside of the restaurant I started that I own, and my brother should be here, but he’s not and— And I was locked in a fuckin’ freezer on my opening night, which was my own fuckin’ fault— And the tape is wrong and the painting is stupid and that new hire did meth so now we’re down one.” He takes a deep breath.

“And we have Heinz instead of Frenchies, and it’s fine. That’s the fucked part— It’s fine. The ship did not sink without me— It went fine. Better, maybe. My problems aren’t fuckin’ problems. I’m just making it worse for myself— everyone. And I know Syd is mad at me, and I know my— My girlfriend? Is mad at me, and I know that I’m gonna break up with her tonight because I’m not meant to be— that.” He says the last part fast, more to himself than you, really. And then he finally looks back up at you.

“And I’m telling all of this to the person who saved me from hypothermia and a fuckin’—Fuckin’ meltdown, who probably thinks— knows that I’m a psycho.”

You take a beat before nodding, sitting next to him again, arms crossed. Silent. Contemplative. “I have thoughts.”

He nods, taking a drag. “Don’t pull punches.”

“Well, to start most honestly, we must remember, I love Syd. So, I’m not gonna mince about her.”

“Heard.”

You recall everything Sydney had told you at breakfast. The recap of how she got to this point. “Syd isn’t mad at you, she’s disappointed and distrustful.”

He grimaces. “That sounds worse.”

“It is.”

“Oh.”

“But in a way you can fix.”

“How?”

“Handle shit different. Actually show up to shit and make calls. Manage your priorities by urgency— Not by favourites. If I broke my fuckin’ arm and your ‘girlfriend’ had a runny nose, who are you taking to the hospital?”

“You can’t take yourself?”

“Bitch?”

“Kidding. Heard. What else?”

“You’re not gonna tell her I said this because she would rather die than tell someone she wants something.” You lean closer to him, peeking over your shoulder to make sure no one’s secretly come from the kitchen. You knock into his knees.

He takes another drag, short, choked. “Sure.”

“You were kind of a bitch about the menu.”

“The chaos menu? She said—”

“She fucking lied. She lied when she said it was fine, Carm, it does not take a psychic to read Syd’s mind.” You interrupt, taking a sip of your coffee. “She was so excited to get to build a menu, especially with—” you, “—a partner, and then you completely ditched her. And then you just made your own! Total control freak shit! Cut her out of the fun part of being head chef completely! You get to invent masterpieces and she picks out the best cheap plate? Fuck is that?”

He nods contemplatively, poking his inner cheek. “Yeah, that, that makes sense. That’s shitty.” He turns his gaze from looking ahead to face you, hand over the bottom half of his face. “What else?”

“You’re reactive.”

“No shit.”

“How long do you think you were locked in the walk-in for?”

He swallows, thinking. “Like… an hour?”

“It had been 23 minutes.”

“Oh.”

“You catastrophize, it’s a fancy therapy word,” You cannot help but be impressed by this white man writing down the word in his phone for later. “It means, basically, when something bad happens you blow it completely out of proportion into something it isn’t. Your opening night was definitely a bummer from being in a freezer— But be honest with yourself, would you have let yourself have a good night if you weren’t in there?”

“…No.”

“No. Which is also bad. Which brings me to my key point.”

He tenses up, preparing for you to rip into him further.

“You’re doing a good job, Carmy.”

He immediately swivels back to you, almost dropping his phone. Knee knocking into yours. “Fuck off.”

“I will not.”

“You just said I was a catastrophe.”

“Fully not what I said.”

“I read between the lines.”

“Carmen.”

You take a breath, putting your arms on your knees, bent over. “The restaurant is beautiful, your cooks are talented and they’re prepared— So prepared that they can handle 23 minutes without you. That’s a good thing. You’re threaded into The Bear— The ship didn’t sink, not because you weren’t there, but because you had been. Everyone had the tools they needed to succeed, even with Heinz, a Mid painting, and torn tape. And listen—” You take one last sip of your coffee. “You need to check your ego if you think you’re the first man I’ve coaxed through a panic attack while doing a repair.”

He laughs, half-heartedly. He scratches his nose. “Heard. Yeah, thank you, Chef.”

“I don’t know shit about the meth thing though, I really couldn’t tell you.” You smile when this coaxes a better laugh out of him. You’re considering a career in stand up exclusively for him because it feels like such a reward to hear it.

“And the girl?” He asks. Amusement tinging but leaving his voice.

You click your teeth, shrugging your shoulders at him. “Based purely on your hesitation to say girlfriend, I’d say yeah, probably not ready for a relationship.” You reach your hand out to his shoulder when he flops his head down. “But, just asking, is this your first relationship?”

He thinks for too long before nodding slightly. “First one.”

“First restaurant too?”

He nods again.

“Yeah.” You pat his shoulder before letting it go, opting to hold your cooling cup. “I know you’re a Michelin star fuckin’ big deal but like, me personally, I can’t name a thing I got perfect the first time I did it.”

There’s something in his eyes, when you say that. Something wistful, nostalgic, hurt? No. Something different.

“It’s not that I didn’t do perfect—”

“You’ll do better next time.”

He wrings his hands together between his knees. “Yeah.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Carm.”

“You’re good at that.” He sniffs, head down, scratching his nose.

“At what? Self-help?”

He exhales what just barely sounds like a laugh. “Kinda. S’just, when you say it, you say it in a way where I actually believe it.”

You’re getting the fuck out of here before they open for dinner. You’re not letting anyone down tonight motherfucker. The Berf shall prevail. Maybe a win here will feel like a win for Carmen, too.

You run the sink to wash your hands, as you’ve done before here— But since fixing the pipes and the pressure… Something’s… different. You pause your scrubbing, listening closely.

…

When the sink is running, the gurgling flow of water from the toilet stops. Huh. You stop and start the faucet a few times to verify this. Yeah. You stare for a long moment before connecting the dots, then punch the sink in realization.

“Fucking Mikey!”

“What’d he do this time?”

You twist around. Ah, other sibling. Natalie. Clipboard in hand, business ready. You take a beat before remembering to smile, nodding to the sink behind you. “He connected the tank flow to the toilet and the sink with one wire.”

She tilts her head, squinting. “Why would he do that?”

“I suspect to save water?” You spin around, kneeling down to look behind the sink. “I think the idea was to have the sink not function when the toilet is flushing. But, it uh, well, did the reverse, kinda. Toilet doesn’t function when the sink isn’t running.”

“Oh.”

“So uh,” You shut the valve under the sink. “Your water bill should go down a little after this, since it won’t be running into what is an essentially a second trap pipe.”

“Oh!” Did she get what you said? No. But she doesn't need to. She heard ‘bill should go down’ and that’s really all she needed. “Thank you!”

“Not a problem. S’my job.” You stand, shutting off the valve to the toilet as well. As you kneel down to work again, you feel her gaze burning into your back. You don’t turn to face her. “You have questions.”

“Oh, ah… Am I so obvious—?”

“Yes.” You’re too quick to answer, unbolting the wires where it attaches to the toilet and the ground. You sniff with a panicked, “Ah, uh, it’s endearing.”

She’s quiet, for a moment. She doesn’t ask you what she actually wants to ask you, and you know that. “Well, I’ll need to exchange info for your invoice.”

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout that, your brother already covered it.” You stand once more, before going to the sink to undo it’s valve, you fish through the deep pocket of your jumpsuit, pulling out a crumpled business card and handing it to her.

“But it’s good to have my info on hand, for sure. It’s ah… Kinda old.” Kinda is an understatement. Your dad’s name is still on it, scribbled out in pen and replaced with yours. The dead business line is also scribbled out in exchange for your personal cell.

“It’s uh… I usually only work for friends and family, these days, so I’ve kinda stopped trying to keep up appearances.”

She smiles at it. Thank God, she finds it charming and not sloppy. She tucks it into the clasp of her clipboard. “That’s fine, we are friends and family.”

All you can do is nod, pivoting to the sink. There's a beat of peace.

“Didn’t see you at the funeral.”

Ah. There it is. For a Bear, she sure knows how to poke one. You stutter in unscrewing the bolt.

“Would’ve been nice to meet you, then.”

You clear your throat, it's strangled. “Yeah, I think I was trying to avoid introductions, honestly. Grief comes in different ways, eh?”

“Does it?”

“Mine does.” You swallow, unbolting the wire. With it free, you can just yank it out of the wall. God, forgive your brain, but Mikey was right, she does like to fight. Too bad you don’t.

She just hums in reply, watching you pull the wire from the wall. “You’re a real lifesaver.”

Fuck. Fuck. Lifesaver? Is she fucking with you?

“That toilet sprayed me right in the face, yesterday. And you saved Carmen.” There’s an amused lilt to her voice. She’s not fucking with you. “There’s something about a handywoman that Fak cannot match.”

You can hear a faint ‘Hey!’ through the walls. You laugh through an exhale.

“Again, s’my job. I do my best. Did uh, what was it, Terry come by for the walk-in? I wasn’t looking when I was there.”

You sort through your tools, deciding caulking the holes closed is probably the best option.

“He came over basically overnight to fix it, bless him, still don’t know his name.”

You laugh, it’s a little strangled. So Carmen did stay overnight. He must’ve. You smooth out the caulk with your thumb and a palette knife. Blending it into the grout as best as you can. “Good. Good.”

You dust yourself off. Standing. “Well. That’s uh. That’s my job done. Carmen asked me about—”

“Bolting down the booths?” She nods, checking the time on her watch. There’s not enough time before lunch to do it now. Plus you don’t have the screws. “You’re free to come by in the morning tomorrow—”

“But?” You interrupt, throwing your tool bag over your shoulder.

“But?”

“You said free like you’ve got a preference, what do you prefer?”

She chuckles, slightly. There is something about you that feels familiar. “If you could come after close tonight around 12, that would be nice—”

“It’s done. I’ll be there.”

“Lifesaver. I'll give you the code.”

Fuck.

Always gotta give the reader/mc some sort of mysterious background that even you don't have all the info on. Always.

Hehehehe, again, we're slowing this burn so much. Strangers to Friends to lovers but they're both so comfortable in friends it's hard to move !!

Forewarning, btw, if you've already sunk 10k worth of words into your brain for me (thank you!! I hope you've enjoyed!!), I've never written smut before and I feel like I probably will not build up the courage to do so by the end of this series, but I could prove myself wrong, I dunno. But warning in case that's your thing!! I might blue ball you babe!!

Pretty please tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my Berf shirt. Collector's value!! Thrown away!!

Next Part

[glossysoap]

call of duty masterlist

note: i write any and all readers with plus size bodies in mind, but they can be read as size neutral if need be. the same goes for skin tones/hair types, i try my best to make it a blank canvas for the reader to imagine themselves in. if you notice something i could’ve done better or made more inclusive, especially in my earlier works, please don’t hesitate to let me know in my askbox with a quote of what you’re referring to.

literally everything here (besides the series) is smut.

rec lists:

price + poly 141

soulmate au + vampire au

series:

ready to comply:

summary: on january 09, 2020, the 141’s medic is captured by hydra, and believed to be dead. until the task force is ambushed a year later, by a brainwashed super soldier who perfectly resembles the ‘dead’ medic.

tags: mcu/cod crossover, winter soldier reader, poly ghost/reader/soap, gn! reader.

saudade:

only the preview at the moment, full fic coming soon

summary: saudade : (n.) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; “the love that remains”.

tags: featuring; future poly ghoap x reader!!!!, american! reader referred to as “you”, childhood best friends to lovers, penpal au!, lanyard references at the bottom

one shots/multi parters:

captain john price:

obedience, i:

price has been fantasizing about you ever since you arrived on base — and it’s time to act on those fantasies.

obedience, ii:

the captain’s cerulean gaze weren’t the only eyes burning a hole into you. while the captain was fantasizing about bending you over his desk and thrusting his cock inside your wet cunt, the lieutenant’s honeyed eyes were staring at you and fantasizing about the exact same thing.

thigh riding:

exactly what it says on the tin.

talking you through it:

what it says on the tin.

ring:

price fingering you with his wedding ring. bday gift for @/loveyhoneydovey

fucked stupid:

blurb of price fucking you stupid.

beard burn:

riding prices face.

thigh fixation:

what it says on the tin.

touchy:

john price can’t keep his hands off you.

teamwork:

price holding you still while gaz eats you out. (an optional part of bun-verse)

claiming ink:

forced claiming via forced tattoos. inspired by that bite mark tattoo trend.

daddy kink

lieutenant simon ghost riley:

just wanna be yours:

for the longest time, simon was content with your friends with benefits arrangement. at least, that’s what he told himself. until one day, he wasn’t.

obedience, ii - follow up to obedience part i.

the captain’s cerulean gaze weren’t the only eyes burning a hole into you. while the captain was fantasizing about bending you over his desk and thrusting his cock inside your wet cunt, the lieutenant’s honeyed eyes were staring at you and fantasizing about the exact same thing. (part 2 of 4)

late night work:

you’re clingy and desperate for him to come to bed. he’s stuck at his computer, working late at night. the only reasonable solution? cockwarming.

fresh ink:

thigh riding.

staring:

weirdo/perv ghost with a staring problem

claiming ink:

forced claiming via forced tattoos. inspired by that bite mark tattoo trend.

johnny soap mactavish:

keep crying, pup:

forced oral (f receiving) + dubcon

marking his territory:

dubcon n piss kink

bitch:

mean johnny calling you his bitch - but he means it literally.

wearing skirts around mean johnny

poor lass:

what it says on the tin.

puppy:

soap loves being your puppy, but he hates the thought of you sharing his nudes with the men.. or does he?

crescents in his skin part 1:

you and soap were inseparable, usually. at least until a few months ago when he got injured on a mission. ever since then, he hasn’t been able to even be in your vicinity. maybe it has something to do with his newfound strength. or the way you could swear his eyes shone amber when he was angry.

pent up:

his specialty is teasing. though it usually leads to him getting put in his place.

thigh riding with captain mactavish

what it says on the tin.

dirty talk with captain mactavish

what it says on the tin.

thigh fixation:

what it says on the tin.

mic work:

soap as an audio erotica artist. part 2 coming soon.

pushing boundaries:

perv! best friend johnny pushing your boundaries

sub soap hc:

what it says on the tin.

werewolf soap hc:

what it says on the tin.

claiming ink:

forced claiming via forced tattoos. inspired by that bite mark tattoo trend.

sergeant kyle gaz garrick:

bun:

gaz comes across his little bun online.. and he has to find her.

teamwork:

price holding you still while gaz eats you out. (an optional part of bun-verse)

déjà vu:

ready to comply - verse drabble au. gaz is captured by hydra almost a year into your disappearance, and the first thing he sees when he’s in captivity is.. you. alive.

bloody shame:

bloody shame is all gaz can think when he overhears his best friend confess that no one has been able to make her finish. so he takes that into his own hands. what else could he do? he’s just being a good friend.

good boy:

submissive gaz x dom male reader, edging and orgasm denial

oral with gaz:

what’s on the tin

claiming ink:

forced claiming via forced tattoos. inspired by that bite mark tattoo trend.

fluff headcanons i:

what it says on the tin.

poly 141:

showering with the 141:

dubcon/noncon.

maybe someday:

poly 141 + price centered. price thinks, knows, they can’t fuck you like he can.

thanks for the tip:

drabble for future fic, camgirl reader au

sharing is caring:

intro post for @/vgilantee and i’s “price sharing his wife” au. (not that we created the trope, it’s just our specific fic 🫶🏻)

keegan p. russ (no longer writing)

unknown number

könig (no longer writing)

black and blue:

you mark him up with love bites, all black and blue.

shiny new toy:

he gets a little too comfortable socializing with a flirty recruit. so you put him in his place.

concepts and thoughts:

ghoap:

double pen

prompt ask for induratize (soulmate au)

bodyguard stalker au

better off ; future ghoap x reader x frank castle crossover concept

johnny mactavish:

wearing skirts around mean soap

standing full nelson thought with captain mactavish

how many fingers?

capt mactavish calling you “his sergeant”

thigh riding w captain mactavish

three times

help, i’m stuck!

chasing

soap begging to touch you

responding to manticore-fangs ask re: roommate soap w/ porn prompts

puppy

masseuse soap

simon riley:

riding ghost while wearing his mask

vet reader who treats riley

kyle garrick:

bun:

gaz comes across his little bun online.. and he has to find her.

oral:

what’s on the tin

teamwork:

price holding you still while gaz eats you out. (an optional part of bun-verse)

fluff headcanons i:

what it says on the tin.

john price:

summary for limerence (ex husband price au)

slipping a ring on during sex

calling you “his soldier”

“attagirl”

piggybacking off of vgilantee’s post here

predator/prey + soulmate au

afterglow cuddling

stuffed full

help, i’m stuck!

teamwork

task force 141:

inexperienced

stealing your romance books

monster/demon 141 thoughts

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[velvetjune]

All my thoughts on Alan Wake 2: The Final Draft below! Major Spoilers for the game (and Control 2019). This is a very long post, but this game has taken over my mind.

The Final Draft was good! I’ve never played NewGame+ versions of games before, so I don’t know if this is usually how it goes. The additional material and introduction/ending makes it all worth it, although I wish there was a way to speed up the case board process, since I completed almost all of it my first go.

My immediate concern is. What is ‘a master of many worlds’? What does that MEAN?? Surface level, he can already exert power over his world and the dark place, so that was the two he was initially referring to. Since Door said the Dark Place was a mirror that reflected other realities, is that why Alan now holds power of them? No matter what, he is Way too confident for someone who’s been an absolute mess. The power of being loved and reaching out to others is just that good.

I’ve vaguely known about this draft’s ending and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Actually playing through again helped me lose that negativity, although I still prefer the first ending! Hearing Saga’s relief at Logan being alive and Alan rising from the dead was one amazing sequence. Visually beautiful and acted out.

The EXPRESSION you can see on Saga the second Logan picks up. I was so happy for her. Having Logan and Casey by her side. No matter what comes next, they succeeded in saving both of them. Now—are Saga, Casey, and Alan all in the dark place? In an overlap? Or Bright Falls?

The “love is strange” quote was a personal favorite. Sometimes you love someone so much, both of you ascend past your humanly self and become so intertwined in thought and memory that you’re always with each other. Love is strange.

Is anyone else ridiculously nervous about what’ll happen with Alan and Alice?? They both seem to be in states that are tied to each other and the dark place. I don’t know if they can technically leave. Read some theories on Alice being the bullet of light, but I took it as a sort of symbolic gesture, with her still being an agent moving in the dark place. Similar to Zane or Darling. Idk.

The ‘Spiral’ writer’s room video got to me even more than the ending! Bringing up how time is overlapping, which means Alan IS already at the end of the spiral, as an enlightened figure, potentially “playing a secret game” or “building something”. There’s an inevitability to Alan’s fate that stresses me out. Describing himself as a demiurge or demon too,, somehow he made everything 10x more unsettling. So thanks for that Alan. Love it for the horror, but also I just want Alice and Alan to reunite with Barry… it’s not looking so good.

I was already a fan of the cliffhanger-ish ending, but, even after seeing this one with more confirmations, I don’t understand comments I’ve seen about having to play the Final Draft to get the actual/true ending. The first ending was emotionally satisfying and left a bigger impression imo. It was the turning point of this entire cycle Alan was stuck in and is what makes the Final Draft’s ending feel earned. It didn’t need confirmation on Logan answering back or Alan ascending because Alice’s post-credit video implied that was what would eventually happen. I still like this final draft’s ending, but I don’t think it’s to the detriment of the original playthrough and won’t hurt if anyone doesn’t end up playing through it (Kinda how I view AWAN too—although I haven’t finished it)

Dr. Darling my beloved. My everything. Remedy took their chance at making the funniest crossover. Alan repeating text over and over, being what’s keeping the dark place formed in its current shape—reminded me of the final nursery rhyme. This could’ve been creepier, but Darling’s reaction of “let’s not think too much about that” for the voice was golden. And what is there even to say about Zane and Darling. They got to flirt, so good for them. The ramifications of this could be dire or stay as some gag.

My conclusion on the situation with Alan, Zane, and Scratch is “I don’t think we’ll ever really know.” All the same person, but also every iteration is their own person. Their existences are too muddled and changed and distorted to ever find an origin or who made who.

I do find it fun that generally Zane IS helping Alan/Scratch and wanted to collaborate with Alan, and Scratch also wanted to become one with Alan, be the heart, bring an enteral deerfest that celebrates Alan. They’re both dangerous and/or manipulative, but it doesn’t seem to be out of hate.

My game had a bug where I could never talk with Odin and Tor apart from the mandatory scenes to move the game, so I missed everything near her trailer AND whatever they were standing around for in the Final Draft 😔

The Lake House page is making me excited for the DLC with the same name! Big fan of Remedy’s love for mad scientists and their death-by-hubris. Another Darling name drop that further shows how annoyed some FBC employees are at Darling’s golden boy reputation and his smug confidence. Incredible.

The Night Springs intro video!! Literally lays out what happens. Alan succeeds, transcends, and becomes a master of these realities he was inspired from. Interested in what this means for the Night Springs DLC. Will it make characters experience one of these other realities or will it remain grounded in the real world of Alan Wake 2?

I’m in love with how Alan Wake 2 repeatedly tells the player what the story and themes are, and outright says reveals and the ending before it plays out. The Yötön Yö song about Scratch, the Zane film of the same name spoiling “It’s not a loop it’s a spiral” and Alice+Alan in the Final Draft, this Night Springs intro confirming his success, all the nursery rhymes predicting Saga’s life, etc. Telling out what will happen through different mediums of art. It’s a clever way of making everything fit together and imply that Door, Zane, Alice, etc. aren’t as affected by the loop’s cycles restarting.

There’s mysteries that haven’t gotten answered at all. Nothing for Tim’s future and underlying connection to Door (I know it’s related to Quantum Break, but haven’t played). The 103 door a guest at the lodge kept banging and screaming at, which I think had the square looped symbol at the Oceanview Motel in Control. The employees door at Oh Deer Diner was always closed off.

Glad to have officially played through Alan Wake 2! Need that DLC trailer to drop soon

[madychi]

I woke from my sleep with tmnt thoughts I must share!

Okay so turtles forever was the first tmnt crossover both for use and I’m pretty sure for the turtles to. So with that in mind…

I wanna rant about trans dimensional turtles from 2012. For starters, we all know this wasn’t the 1987 turtles first rodeo with other universes and I’m glad it feels like it too. But also- when the two Donnie’s go to dimension prime… I did kinda hoped 1987 Donnie would make some reference to meeting the prime turtles before but… he just doesn’t remember it at all?

You may say “oh maybe Turtles Forever comes after this?” Okay then why is dimension travel foreign to the 1987 turtles? Why can’t Donnie recreate his portal gun from trans dimensional turtles and instead made the flashlight stick thing? It doesn’t make sense and if they wanted it to be like that I feel like they could’ve made it work. Did they want to retcon turtles forever? Well- wasn’t turtles forever the thing to cap off. The 2003 series? You can’t retcon a finale like that…

Okay- maybe I’m looking to much into what was a silly episode in my least favorite arc of the 2012 series. Fine. Let’s talk about the like… two or three episode long crossover between 2012 and 1987. This would’ve been a great chance to make references to or use a story that pays homage to Turtles Forever. Im not asking for something big persay. Even a passing comment from 1987 Shredder being like “oh man I hope this universes Shredder isn’t crazy like that last guy.” Or from one of the 1987 turtles being like “if I had a nickle Everytime Shredders gone to another universe and started trouble I’d have two nickels.” (This would work since shredder wasn’t involved in trans dimensional turtles and would be an obvious reference to turtles forever.)

But no. Yet again, there’s no mention of anything that happened in turtles forever. The 1987 turtles aren’t as goofy so maybe you can say their a bit more mature from that adventure. Okay, fine. I also can excuse their fighting style because, well, that’s just how they normally fight. Even in turtles forever they fight in their cartoonish ways. The 2012 turtles have to teach the 1987 turtle ✨violence✨. I’m okay with that. I’m just not okay with how turtles forever was just… kinda forgotten about? Mentioning it even a little bit wouldn’t have hurt, and probably would’ve gotten people who hadn’t seen the movie interested and they would’ve watched it.

TLDR: i woke up mad about the inconsistencies in tmnt crossover episodes and how they just never acknowledge turtles forever. Am I reading to much into it? Maybe. Am I still mad about it? Yes.

Also hot take, the only reason why the 1987 turtles get crossovers with 2012 (and why I believe any other future crossover will include the 1987 turtles) is for merch because I swear all tmnt merch I see casually is of the 1987 turtles. You want other stuff that isn’t the latest MM you gotta search.

[regaliasonata]

You Honest Opinion: Power Ranger Seasons that were AWESOME, were bland as oatmeal, and deserve to be run through the wood chipper from Fargo. Speak and be recognized.

Awesome Seasons

-Jungle Fury: Overall solid season, great characters and development, awesome choreography and villains. Only thing that could’ve been better was if the show was given more episodes. A side effect of ranger seasons as they probes on was the reduce in episode amounts, Jungle Fury could’ve definitely benefited from having at least 10 or 12 more episode…AND THE CROSSOVERS OF OO AND RPM.

-Dino Thunder: See this is how you do a season where you incorporate the core theme of the 90s classic trope with high schoolers/heroes, cast is likable, show flowed well along with the story and villain and Trent was adorable(actor still hot…don’t judge me). My gripes is Zeltrax not getting an actual ending, or PR not giving Ethan’s actor a chance to come back even though he definitely wants to.

-Lost Galaxy: Breath of fresh air into the new era after Zordon, cool concept and I love that cast as well. We all need a boyfriend like Leo, also the idea of what they did for Kendrix was both bold and entertaining when watching for the first time…only thing that could’ve gone better was them being able to do the lost galaxy arc a bit earlier to actually show off more ideas there.

Bland as Oatmeal(spicing this up, category for seasons I enjoy but their issues need to be addressed to gain peace for the better)

-SPD: Now this season honestly was ambitious with the ideas of having all these alien designs and being based in the future on earth. Cast is cool and so far I’m pretty much enjoying it…I do however don’t appreciate the focus being mainly on Jack, Sky and Cruger, they are nice characters but the others get thrown in the dark. Not to mention Sky in the beginning being an asshole about not getting red (also for you to be raised by a single mom yet get offended at the idea of a woman being a leader is clown behavior, glad he grew out of that shit fast). Syd and Z’s treatment was pretty poor, we should’ve had Taylor and Jen complaining to SPD and making shit right for them👌🏾🩷💛

-Time Force: This was an interesting season but I have some overall issues with the way half of the team was handled. For a season based on time travels they didn’t really utilize that much and outside of Wes, Jen and Eric the other three barely got anything, I would’ve loved to see perspectives of Katie, Xybrian lore on Trip(have a few posts of that I made if you wanna give it a look👀💚) and…Lucas I guess, but tbh Nadira should be the blue Ranger from now on after…certain things about his actor(if you know you know) but yea overall season could’ve had more of that stuff.

Wood Chipper

-Ninja Steel: Dogshit season, outside of the many things I don’t like about this season I will say some things to say with from the little grace it has. I love the idea of Madame Odios being the antagonist as one I love fox themed characters and also her design is peak, the suits for the rangers are pretty stylish and the effects or their attacks are rather stunning when used well….now onto where we dive into the deep end. Victor and Monty need to not exist, no no that’s rude, they needed better writing. For one the fart jokes were disgusting and whoever thought that was funny in the writing room is just ugh, you could’ve made them actually engaging characters, heck paired them together as boyfriends like ANYTHING INTERESTING. Now onto Hayley, the way Calvin handled their relationship was so terrible and Sarah is a bad friend for telling Hayley to just deal with it, and had HER apologizing for Calvin being terrible??? Also the idea they originally had for the black girl to lose her boyfriend so he can hook up with the other girl on the team…oh my god I’m glad the actresses said no to that, goddamit what was this writing.

YOU HAD A NINJA SEASON THAT SAID OTHER SCHOOLS EXISTED, LORE BUILT UP BUT NO REFERENCE THERE???? Oh my god, I’m just imagining how good of a season it could’ve been incorporating ninja Storm and samurai together cause like just picture how fire it would’ve been(luckily I’m going to make a Ninja Steel AU rewrite eventually in ao3 if anyone wants to read it👌🏾. Also allow me to use the green ranger we never got form the Sentai 👀)

Let’s leave it at the fact that fans can take the characters and show and make better backgrounds and settings for them, anytime canon fails we have everyone here to do the good work👍🏾

That seems about it, I wanted to list only a few specific ones but I hope this was nice 😅

[yellowhollyhock]

We all been sleeping on 87 raph his sarcasm is unmatched. I would watch the 87 series again just because sarcasm lol. This is why it was jarring 03 raph hated him instead of adopting the guy their sarcasm would be unstoppable hun does not stand a chance.

I love the 1987 show a reasonable amount (like the amount I care the 03 turtles. Reasonable and normal).

And yessss you’re so right I’d like to see them being besties. They can even still make fun of each other just make them besties first. There’s a lot of conversation about the 87 turtles being out of character in turtles forever, and rightfully so it’s incredibly true, but I think to a lesser degree the 03 turtles were flattened to fit. Especially Raph. He isn’t usually so needlessly mean. When he meets people who annoy him he adopts them!

Now 87 Raphael is very often deliberately rude. I can see that annoying all the 03 turtles, if for no other reason than because it would annoy 03 Splinter. But I don’t think it would last because 87 Raphael is also a golden-hearted gremlin just like the rest of them. (Plus I just think that if any of the turtles met other turtles they would get attached pretty easily considering they’ve always been literally the only ones of their kind).

There is one little moment where the two of them call their respective Donatellos “nerd” at the same time, and that was a nice little chuckle, but that’s hardly a Raph-worthy roast. They could’ve jinxed with a better roast for a better reason (like if Donnie was actually being annoying—not hard to do with our beloved 87 Donatello! (he’s so stupid I love him)—instead of just. Explaining something).

Idk I do like Turtles Forever. It’s probably fair to say a multiverse crossover movie would inevitably be disappointing because you just can’t do as much with a movie as we’ve already done with fanfiction. Still, the 87 turtles deserved way better.

Someday I’m gonna write that thing where 03 Raph takes all the 12 turtles under his wing and include 87 Raphael shenanigans in that.

Also speaking of fanfic and because it’s hard to find ones that include the 87 turtles! I really like Too Many Turtles by Dysfunctional Request (this doesn’t actually have a lot of the 87 guys but they are present and the Raphs are good so it made me think of it) and Hey Donnie For Future Reference This is Not How We Handle Things by BoStaffsAreCool.

ANYWAY. Yes I agree ❤️

[beardedhandstoadshark]

If you could make a connection between your favorite character and another work you care about (whether a crossover/fusion or a wonderfully “pretentious” literary reference) what would it be? How would it work?

Oh I‘d love to add a literary reference! Sadly can’t recall any rn though, and as it turns out, "I fear no man - but that thing - it scares me“ did not in fact, as I previously assumed, stem from MacBeth before being turned into a Team Fortress 2 meme, but rather originated from said game. Could’ve sworn I read how MacBeth said it in reference to the knife scene though…

Given that most other literary pieces I liked either don’t have scenes I’d know how to translate into a different setting with the characters I like or aren’t very referenceable to begin with, and with other media most of it already exists in the form of Super Smash Bros Brawl and/or Ultimate, and while I have ideas for it I doubt me talking about Etrian Odyssey for the millionth time is very interesting, AND my nr. 1 fave being Luigi Mario of all characters… that leaves us with…

No, wait, actually, what would a crossover with MacBeth look like…You could make it so the mc isn’t in the role of MacBeth, but watching it unfold?

OR - another idea. I don’t try to make this work with main fave Luig- but with Link Legend of Zelda :3 Becaaaause there just so happens to be a canonical royalty-murderer turned self-proclaimed king in that series :] And while he doesn’t have a wife, he does have two very bloodthirsty moms who he probably got his murder tendencies from to some degree.

So, this is probs gonna be vastly ooc, but-

our three fatebound souls all get smacked with a prophecy by the three Goddesses that made the Triforce (maybe via prophetic dream. If Zelda and Link both canonically get them why not Ganondorf too),

GDorf decides nows a great time for King Rhoam to roam the way for him, does just that, and instead of a mental breakdown over floating knifes he gets angry over a vision with a master sword, because GD just isn’t a character to get breakdowns like that unless it’s a 3rd act breakdown mayyyybe?

decides *screw that* and goes full tyrant like in the second half of ocarina do time, either orders his giant bird to kidnap blonde kids again or Yiga to just kill Link and Zelda,

shortly afterwards Link hears Zelda is missing, decides to kick Dorfs ass, on his way gets joined by a super mysterious Shiekah called Shiek (Nintendo is not very creative with names ngl),

on their way they defeat the moms, find the sword in the forest that’s known for shifting around and parted itself so it could be found, and make friends from all the other…kingdoms? Counties Regions? They have their own royalty and rulers but still somehow belong to Hyrule?? Hyrule is the Britain of fantasy countries…

Anyways, war - but it looks like Ganondorfs too powerful, as always

plottwist, Sheik is no man borne from a woman, but was Zelda all along. Promptly shoots him with holy light arrows so he can be sealed away

Epic 1v1 battle

He dies

Happily ever after until the next cycle of reincarnation!

…this is really the best I’ve got. Not much (aside from the ridiculous length). Sorry.

[sadboi-in-a-sweater]

Interfandomal Power Scaling is a Pointless Mess

Plot summary: Sadboi uses general physics and creativity to explain why Deathbattle shouldn’t be a valid measure of a character’s crossover strength, while slowly going feral.

Alright, you were curious enough to expand this post. Sit down and buckle your fxckles ‘cause I’m going to go INTELLIGENTLY *FERAL*. SENTO HAZARD OVERFLOW MODE IF YOU WILL.

I have a bit of an issue with interfandomal power scaling. You know, the kind that people have made into memes. I have an unironic problem with it, specifically when people legitimately try using it as a measurement of a character’s strength.

For one, I do not have the time to argue for/against your case for many reasons, for two, most of these measurements are probably estimates or approximations done by other fans and are probably not exactly canon (and while I’m all for headcanons and fanon that make sense, in franchises not open to fanon changes then I simply can’t take those numbers as complete, confirmed canon), and for three, “[X character] could/could’ve/should’ve beat [Y character] in a fight” isn’t my thing, because bro IT’S STORYTELLING, the writers do what they want with/without the director’s whim. Interfandomal power scaling is a mess because most of it is done by many fans of many series.

That isn’t to say I advise against pitting two characters each from two different franchises against each other in a fight, it’s just that trying to use such things as anything but entertainment comes off as... I can’t think of the word if it exists, but a word similar to pretentious but about pop culture stuff.

Anyhow, onto the part where I explain how infinitesimally pointless using deathbattles as a legitimate measurement is with physics.

Using Kamen Rider Agito Ground Form as an example, according to the Kamen Rider Fandom Wiki (Source: https://kamenrider.fandom.com/wiki/Kamen_Rider_Agito_(Rider)#Ground):

  - The rider’s weight is 95kg

  - The rider’s maximum jump height is 30m

  - The rider’s maximum running speed is 100m/5s

  - The rider’s kick finisher has 30T of force exerted on the target

Assuming that the example scene is the typical setup for any good ol’ rider kick: then the target (which is Panthera Cyaneus for our example) is standing, staggered and staying still on the ground; while Agito is 30m in the air and is rapidly approaching at ~20m/s (100/5=20, with some wiggle room for gravity as acceleration), finally colliding with the Lord some seconds later at a FRIGHTENING contact force of 249,199.5N (converted from 30T). With some thinking and MSPaint magic, we get Diagram A:

If you’re like a lot of people, then you’re struggling to comprehend that number. So for reference, most everyday actions like walking exert contact forces that’ll probably never reach those numbers (feel free to correct me though since physics isn’t really my thing).

How hard was poor Cyaneus rider kicked, you might now be wondering? And if you aren’t, too bad I already did the math and I got this number.

Again, feel free to correct me because I only know how to clearly do this because I’ve been taking general physics recently for college, and my main passion is being that one friend in the group chat who crushes fandoms together and has the drawing skills to decently back it up.

Again, most people (like myself) tend to struggle with visualizing numbers greater than like, 20 or 30. So numbers large enough to be 4+ digits long tend to become abstracted in the human mind to be just a number and is unable to truly understand the magnitude of values that great.

In my opinion, spitting out numbers that long with a unit tagged onto the end goes through the brain without being fully registered in the brain.

If you’re like me (if the Kamen Rider Agito example didn’t already give it away), you’ve probably hovered around the Toku fandom, specifically the Kamen Rider and Super Sentai sides of it. And since this is a long post about power scaling, then you’re already anticipating what I’m going to bring up:

Kuuga’s Rising Mighty Nuke Kick.

Those five words would be the ones I would use if I were asked why interfandomal power scaling is pointless in a limited amount of letters. Some franchises just go on for so long that the stakes are eventually going to get mind-bogglingly intense.

For context (because I know this is going to reach people that otherwise wouldn’t understand), Kamen Rider Kuuga has 12 forms: Growing, Mighty, Dragon, Pegasus, Titan, Rising Mighty, Rising Dragon, Rising Pegasus, Rising Titan, Amazing Mighty, Ultimate, and Rising Ultimate; so there are 6 tiers of form strength (Growing, Standard, Rising, Amazing, Ultimate, and Rising Ultimate). Rising Mighty is a form on the second form strength tier, however of any first upgrade tier for any primary kamen rider that I can think of, Rising tier is probably the most insane I can remember in terms of power gap. To be fair, Kuuga was the true testing ground for kamen rider forms as we know them today, so I could imagine that not everything was ironed out back then (because off the top of my head, I can’t think of any riders with a true “base form” aside from Kuuga and Den-O: Kuuga having Growing Form and Den-O having Plat Form. Both are practically useless in combat and are mostly used as a base to put another, stronger form onto, like a nice paint primer.)

That out of the way,

As the complex noun “Kuuga’s Rising Mighty Nuke Kick” might suggest, it is the rider kick finisher that is available with Kuuga Rising Mighty Form which has the strength of a nuke. Otherwise, I consider it a statement to how mind-numbing trying to make a character stronger than one that is nigh already destruction itself is. I don’t even know what to talk about anymore.

If you made it all the way down here, then thanks. I needed to get this out of my system. qwq

[carolmunson]

bad blood (part three) (stella's version)

The Finale. (18+)

(ROCKSTAR!EDDIE X ACTRESS!READER) (@ROLLERGIRLWORLD ’S BOXER!STEVE AND LIBRARIAN!READER CROSSOVER) READ FROM LIBRARIAN!READER’S PERSPECTIVE HERE (PT. 1) and HERE (PT. 2) and HERE (PT. 3)

WARNINGS AND SUCH:  a whole lotta angst, blatant cold shouldering to a partner, swearing, discussions of controlling/abusive behavior, implied smut, brief daddy kink reference, blood mention (on a fat lip), swearing, all around just sad lol sorry

You emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped tightly around you, your wet hair dripping onto the plush carpeted floor of the bedroom. You go to the dresser inside the walk-in closet, plucking out a pair of briefs and sliding them on over your freshly moisturized legs. Eddie was under the covers, looking softly at you while you reached into one of his opened suitcases for a t-shirt to wear to bed.  “The ‘75 Ozzy tour shirt is on the bottom left,” he said, “You could’ve asked, now all my clothes are gonna get wrinkled.” 

“You should’ve just unpacked,” you chided, “Then I wouldn’t have to throw everything around.” You found the t-shirt exactly where he said it would be and slipped it on, your skin peeking through the holes in the fabric, turning to the bed.

“You should’ve just unpacked,” you chided, “Then I wouldn’t have to throw everything around.” You found the t-shirt exactly where he said it would be and slipped it on, your skin peeking through the holes in the fabric, turning to the bed.

“Also, your clothes were already wrinkled,” you smirked, sliding under the covers next to him. He instinctively turned to put his arm around you but hesitated, swallowing hard while he retreated. 

“Can I hold you? Is that okay?” he asked gently. You nodded, turning your bedside lamp out. The city twinkling into the windows being the only source of light in the room. You feel Eddie’s hand smooth over your ribs, down over your stomach, and rest on your hip. He takes his time while he does this, savoring every moment he has against your skin, his chest up against your shoulder. His hand splays over your hip, gripping upwards so you end up on your side next to him, face to face. 

“Just wanna look at you,” his voice dropping down an octave with sleep, “You can go to sleep.” Your eyes drift closed, weighed down from your crying earlier and your body sinks into his, legs slotting together. You feel his lips press warmly against your forehead, the click of the kiss echoing in the quiet of the room. 

“I didn’t like his hands on me,” you murmured into his chest, “I don’t like how he touched me.” 

“I know, sweet thing,” Eddie did know. He saw your face when Steve’s hands slipped to your waist, mean and indelicate. Your soft frown lines peeking out, your gulp when he pressed his chest to your back. It wasn’t that Eddie was just jealous when Steve touched you, it’s that you were in a position that made you feel used. Eddie only grabbed you like that when you asked, when you played pretend – when the ball was in your court. 

“I only want you to touch me,” you say, sleep taking you with it slowly as your breath steadies. He feels your arm slack over him, knowing you’re in that sweet spot between dreaming and awake and he doesn’t want to lift you from it. He’s not sure he’ll be able to sleep, knowing you’ll talk to Libby tomorrow and know the whole truth – maybe he can fly out before you come back. Maybe he should just grit his teeth and bear it – he can’t keep running away from fucking up anymore. He doesn’t want to keep leaving you in the dust to pick up the pieces on your own – but he doesn’t want you to leave him in the dust either. 

The next morning you wake up early and go to the hotel gym, running on the treadmill with vigor while Eddie snored noisily in bed. When you got back, covered in a sheen of sweat, he was on the phone at the desk in the living room, pacing back and forth. 

“Thaaat’s great news, Simone,” he grinned into the receiver. You cross your arms while you look at him and he tosses a wink in your direction. 

“I’d love for the new trainer to be a woman. If you don’t mind going that extra mile,” he explains, “Feel like it’ll get her more connected to the role, y’know? She’s dealt with enough masculinity.” 

“Love that we’re on the same page for this,” he says, nodding – the dimples in his cheeks deepening while his smile gets wider. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll let her know. I’ll have her call you,” he continues. 

“Yes, absolutely.” 

“Uh-huh, uh-huh – yes they’re signed.” 

“Of course - yes. Okay. I love you, too. Kisses! Bye.” 

“Oh, okay! No, I didn’t forget.” 

“Okay…okay…yes…kisses again. Bye, Simone.” 

He hangs up the phone and you roll your eyes. Eddie and Simone were like two insufferable stage parents together, they might as well be co-managing your career. 

“Good morning,” he sing-songed, sauntering over to you to press a kiss on your cheek as his hands find your hips, “Steve’s out.” 

“Let me guess, you asked him to be let go?” you said with a tight smile. 

“Artistic differences, baby,” he shook his head, “It was everyone’s decision – don’t worry, he’ll still get paid.” 

“No one asked for my opinion,” you said, your arms still crossed under your chest. 

“It’s okay honey, daddy got it taken care of for you,” Eddie smirked, “You know it was the right decision anyway. Did you wanna see him again?” 

“No, but…” your arms dropped. 

“But nothing – you didn’t wanna see him, so you’re not gonna see him. Okay?” he asked. 

“Okay,” you replied quietly. He tucked a knuckle under your chin and tilted your face up to look at him, he didn’t ask before he leaned in to kiss you – but he didn’t have to. You welcomed his lips on yours eagerly, something about his confidence when he was getting things together for you was electric. 

“You going in to take a shower?” he asked, brushing his nose against yours. You nodded breathlessly while he pressed up against you. 

“Can daddy join you?” his voice was husky, you could feel his erection growing in his sweats against you. You nod, his next kiss wet and hungry while he hoisted you up to carry you to the bathroom – fucking you with vigor while propped up on the sink. Eyes lust blown while he told you to look at his cock while he slammed it into you, reminding you that it’s all yours. A much nicer version of ‘Daddy’ than you’d experienced in a while. 

After you both cleaned up in the shower, you looked at the clock and sighed while you got dressed in the bedroom. 

“Getting close to your meeting?” he asked, folding up his clothes and repacking his suitcases. 

“Yeah, I just –” you sigh again, zipping up a tight black track-suit jacket to match your spandex pants. Eddie marveled at the fact that even in leisure wear, you looked expensive. 

“I kind of just wish I didn’t have to do this. Relive it all again today,” you mumble, looking in the mirror on the wall and slapping on a semblance of makeup. 

“Well, they’ll definitely have to,” he said, coming over and sliding the day’s paper over to you. Splayed across the front page was a photo of Steve and Libby, clearly post fight leaving the gym. Steve’s eyes were hard and angry, Libby’s face contorted from crying – it looked bad. It looked like the video tape cover of an afterschool special on bad relationships. You let a breath out through your nose. 

“Wow, you – you really clocked him,” you say, your finger tracing over Steve’s fat bleeding lip. 

“I’d do it again, too,” Ed shrugged, kissing the side of your head. He went to take the paper back but you stopped him. 

“I’m gonna take this with me. If you don’t mind,” you say, putting it on the dresser under your wallet. Ed shakes his head, going back to his suitcases while you start putting your purse together. When you got the call that your car had arrived, you quickly shrugged on your coat, in black this time – it felt like you were mourning anyway. 

“It’s gonna be fine, you’re gonna be fine,” Eddie said, getting into the elevator with you, peppering you with kisses while you flew down to the lobby. He held your hand while you made it outside, the car pulling up to the entryway – both of you savoring the lack of paparazzi at the doors. 

He pressed a final kiss to your lips, “I love you, I’ll see you when you get back.” 

“I love you, too,” you smile – unaware at the fear he felt as you stepped toward the car. Knowing that when you come back, you’ll know something different. You’ll know something more. Eddie pulled you back gently. 

“And if you see that he’s there, you get right back in this car,” he warned, “I don’t want him anywhere near you.” 

“Oh, relax,” you roll your eyes, pecking him before hopping into the back seat, shutting the door. You watched him watch the car pull away, waiting until you were a good distance before going back inside. 

–

Your black boots crunch in the snow in the short walk it takes to get from the car to the door. The jingle makes you sick as the door opens and whatever nonchalance you felt before you left has faded away. Sure, you felt powerful after Eddie fucked you – but insecurity struck you hard in the chest when you spotted the back of Libby’s head. Why her? You maneuvered over to the booth, only taking your big black sunglasses off once you sat down. 

“Hi,” she says, her voice weak and small. You blink, waiting for her to say anything more – watching as she nervously puts her hands over her hot chocolate, an untouched cup of it sitting at the center of the table.

You speak in a voice that isn’t your own, but a media trained darling’s with a body full of secrets, “Hi.” She gestures toward the hot chocolate in the middle of the table, “I, um, got you one.”

“I can’t stay long,” you say as you reach for it, taking the cover off to let the drink cool down. You don’t know why you tell Libby you can’t stay long, it’s a lie, but she lied – so it’s fine. It almost felt good to make her sweat a little.

She nods at you and you can feel her fear radiating off of her. It’s validating to watch her tremble in front of you instead of crying over boys fighting over them. Boy, did Steve and Eddie need to make all of this about themselves. Libby struggles to find her words at first, her mouth opening and closing.

“Oh, um, okay. I just…I don’t know what Eddie told you, but…I’d like to tell you my side of the story…if that’s okay.” You nod, you couldn’t wait to hear it. ‘My side of the story where I kissed your future husband.’ You finally felt mad at her, mad at Eddie, mad at Steve. The embarrassment had faded away now, instead it was just pure unbridled rage. Thank god, you were an actress. You watch as she tears at the cardboard sleeve of her drink – you want to smack it out of her hand so she’d look at you while she tells you the truth.

"Steve and I…we got into this big fight. He was being awful —he was…violent and angry and mean. We were saying such terrible things to each other, and…I couldn’t take it anymore. I told him we needed time apart.” This doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, this was expected behavior from what you’ve seen of Steve.

“Anyway, we just kept yelling and fighting and…he threw a glass. Just,” she throws her open palm over her head to recreate it, “…went right past me, you know? It was the scariest moment of my life. Well…I guess until yesterday.” You have no idea, you think to yourself. Her eyes flit up to meet yours but you don’t smile, you can’t find even a hint of warmth in your body outside of the anger bubbling in your belly. Not only did your friend kiss Eddie, but your friend’s psycho boyfriend did the one thing abusers do before they start beating their spouse. You wish you could beg her to leave, but once you realize she didn’t leave after Steve berating you in Malibu – there was no chance. Anyone was fair game for Steve, and she’d always take the fall.

“Mikey put me up in a hotel room, and his girlfriend took me out the next night. Said she wanted me to get a taste of the "single life,” in California,“ she says,  "Ended up ditching me a few minutes in, and that’s when…Eddie saw me. Invited me up to VIP.”

Very Eddie, especially when you first started seeing each other. He’d scope you out at the clubs from VIP, waving to try and catch your eye. ‘Hey! Hey, princess! Where you goin’? Your prince charming is up here!’ He’d shout over the booming music, always a little smug when you’d end up on his lap on the couches. His hands would sit protectively on your waist and hips while other guys flowed in and out of the section. Lips brushing the sensitive spot between the nape of your neck and your shoulder, but never kissing. Snickering when you’d shiver on top of him.

“We got to talking and…I don’t know, it’s like he knew. He said that he could,” she hesitates, but you know she’s going to say something that he said that was horny and gross. It’s in his nature to be a little disgusting when he’s at the club,  “He said that he could make me feel better. And…in that moment, I didn’t wanna feel anything.” You lean your chin delicately on your hand, waiting for her to say it. To fully confess.

“So…we kissed,” she continues, looking down at her legs. You think she’s going to start crying, but instead her lips move to keep going, “And…”

“And?” you ask, a sharpness in your tone that wasn’t there before. There was an and? Eddie hadn’t mentioned anything past kissing. You watch her wince and you almost want to smack her for acting all nervous in front of you when it was clear she wasn’t nervous the night she saw Eddie at Glow.

“And…we went somewhere more private. A bathroom. We, uh…I wanna be honest, Stella…there was some wandering. Grinding,” she explains meekly. You can see embarrassment on her face while she says it, but almost a glint of fondness. Like she liked it, and that’s why she feels so bad. 

“So were you planning to fuck my husband?” you ask, your voice sliding back to neutrality. He wasn’t your husband, but he might as well have been, “You were gonna fuck him in the bathroom and then what? Leave Steve for him?” 

“No,” she said hurriedly, shifting uncomfortably at your question, “I—”

“Did you think because he was working on himself alone that he forgot about me? Did you –” you ask, a lump in your throat forming while you thought about it more. How could she? 

“– did you think about how that would make me feel? Did you think about me at all?” you pleaded, your voice sounding more hurt with each word that poured out of you. Did either of them? All three of them? Had anyone taken a second to think about how you might have felt, what all of this might have done to you? Your heart fluttering with guilt and fear at any head of hair that looked like Steve’s, your disappointment when you had never heard back from Libby after Prada. How you spent so long wondering what you might have done wrong – how you could’ve been a better friend. Up at night when you left Eddie because he was the only thing that could put you to sleep, no one to really talk to about it without making them mad at him. “Even after all the horrible shit Steve said to me in Malibu? Did I deserve to have you both hurt me?” You wish you could have said all three of them. You watch Libby wipe at her face and look at the window, guilt pouring out of her along with her salty tears. Tears Eddie would’ve licked up if he could and your heart breaks at the idea. You think of how he fucked you on the counter of the sink earlier, you wonder if he wished it was her. “You don’t deserve any of this, Stella. You deserve…far better, and I’m sorry. I'm—I’m sorry for fucking everything up. I wanted to tell you, I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but…” she looks afraid to say what you know will be the next thing out of her mouth, “He wouldn’t let me.” Your eyes narrow at the thought of him barring her from speaking to you when she was just trying to do the right thing. Like this was his plan all along, to wait until she couldn’t possibly deal with the guilt anymore and have it all spill out. To get to have his cake of getting to put dents in your relationship, and eat Libby’s embarrassment too. To get every lick in he’s been thinking about since he found out. You almost wish he could’ve called and talked to you about it, to be a man about it – if he wanted to hurt Munson so bad that would’ve been the best way to do it. “I know how that sounds. Jesus —I see how it looks,” she continues, her voice pleading and aching, “But…I wish you knew the Steve I know. Maybe you’d understand why he is the way he is, you’d see how hard he’s been trying. I think..if you knew him the way I do, you might even like him.”

You scoff involuntarily. Like him? The man who taunted your lover about his addiction, who taunted you about his addiction, who shat on your relationship, who called you an enabler, who berated you for hours in the ring, who touched you for his own revenge? The same man who kept your friend to himself like a leashed dog? Who fucked her in the office loud enough for everyone to hear to stake his claim? There was no liking Steve. There was just abhorring him.

“I know he’s sorry, Stella. He truly is. For all of it. And I’m so fucking sorry. So fucking sorry. I’ve been sick over it, Stella, but…I can’t take it back. All I can do is tell you that I never meant to hurt you, and I’ll be sorry for it forever.”

You take a second to think, blinking at her. Shocked that she’s here, groveling and still apologizing on his behalf when he’s a grown man capable of doing it himself. But at the same time, you’re not really shocked at all. The anger and rage subsides – now you’re just numb. A little colder. A little more sure that the world just works like this, and despite everything, nothing you say or do is ever going to change it. The love of your life kissed another woman while you were separated for his wrong doing. The woman was someone you trusted, who still won’t leave a man who you couldn’t trust as far as you could throw him. A man who is so vile that Eddie, who is rarely violent outside of drug use, threw blows at him completely sober. This was all true, this all happened, and you sat there and watched it all happen around you. 

“So, you cheat on Steve with my boyfriend of three years, and he…wouldn’t let you call and tell me? Wouldn’t let you call and apologize after he kicked me and Ed out of the house? And you…listened?” your voice sounds colder than you intended, but you can’t find it in your heart to care anymore. 

“Stella, you don’t understand—” she started, but you don’t want to hear that. You do understand. 

“—I think I understand just fine, Libby. But that’s the difference between you and I —Eddie doesn’t control me. I control me,” you echo the sentiments you had at the nail salon over a year ago. You wonder how much of it is true – if Eddie does control things in the underground of it. Switching out the wires without ever having to say something gruff the way Steve does. Maybe it’s more insidious and you don’t even know – no one would tell you otherwise. (No one except Steve, you guess.) 

You see her try to think of something to say, but you’ve had enough of the conversation. Your body felt tired and heavy again, the smell of sugar and donuts was starting to make you sick. Before she can speak, you reach into your purse and slide the paper to her while you shimmy to the edge of the booth. 

“I know a really great PR person, if you plan on cleaning up any more of Steve’s messes,” you offer, trying your hardest not to sound so bitchy – but there wasn’t really a nice way to say it. 

You adjust your coat, slide on your sunglasses as a small headache forms behind your eyes, and tap the paper, “Good luck, Libby.” 

“Stella,” she says while you begin to walk away. Your heart breaks again and you shut your eyes at her side of the booth, exhaling through your nose. 

“I don’t hate you, Lib. But…I’m gonna need a lot of time before we can be friends again. I hope you understand,” you confess, your voice trembling softly. She was owed some type of closure – you didn’t want to be like Steve. You leave before she can say anything else, waltzing through the cafe and out into the cold – immediately hopping into the car. You realize you never even had a sip of the hot chocolate. 

– 

The elevator doors open to the room again and you see Eddie in the living room again, his luggage all set up by the wall where you stepped in. Eddie looks at you, and he knows that you know, his face is sad. 

“So you heard the rest?” he asks, his lips are tight on his face in a grimace. Waiting for you to start yelling, to say something cruel, to hurt him the way you were hurting. But instead, you just nod. Kicking your boots off and hanging your coat up in the closet. You put your bag on the coffee table, sliding your sunglasses inside. You don’t even look at him as he starts to follow you. 

“Do you hate me?” he asks, his voice quiet and full of shame. You shake your head no – and part of you wishes you could hate him, but you don’t. You love him so bad it hurts. 

You brush past him to go into the bedroom and he lets out a sigh – not frustrated or angry, but wishing you’d say something, anything to him. He follows your footsteps and watches you in the doorway while you fiddle with the safe in the closet and his heart sinks. That’s where the ring is, and he knows you’re gonna shove it back in his hands and tell him to go fuck himself. He’s not gonna know what to do after, he might as well just die. 

You pull out the velvet box and open it, the ring sparkling even in the low light of the curtain drawn bedroom. You look at it for a moment before plucking it out of the box and sliding it back onto your finger, leaving the velvet container on the top. 

Eddie’s heart swells to see it back in its rightful place, but he frowns when you won’t look at him. He watches you admire it on your hand and suddenly knows that this was a power move. With the ring on, there’s no more room for fucking up. There’s no more chances. If he acts up or gets caught behaving badly, the press will have a field day because she’s spoken for again. 

“D-do you have anything to say?” he asks, his voice rasping as it get caught on the lump building in his throat. Staring at his beautiful baby who wants nothing to do with him. 

You look up at him, meeting his tear filled eyes and sigh, walking to the door. You hold it in your ringed hand while you stare at him. 

“Have a good time in Indiana, Ed,” you mutter with a tight lipped smile before shutting the door gently in his face. Eddie winces when he hears the click of the lock. 

“Baby…” he says, his hand resting warm on the door, “Baby please, talk to me.” 

You don’t respond, your silent cries muffled by your hand while you lean against the door. The emotion pouring out of you like a dam that finally cracked. Again, no one to hold you but yourself. 

You hear the elevator ding open and Tiffany’s voice chirp from under the crack in the door, “Mr. Munson, your car is here.” 

You hear him sigh again, “Thanks, Tiff.” 

He knows getting you to open the door is futile, you’re too stubborn, especially when you’re upset. You listen at the door while he hesitates, until finally the wheels of his suitcases making it into the elevator hit your ears – and he’s gone. 

–

A week had gone by and luckily not too much press had come out about the fiasco in Canada. You were back in the Hollywood house, getting back to a regular schedule while Simone searched high and low for a new trainer. The last glimpse you saw of Libby and Steve was at the airport with Tiffany, and while you didn’t look too long – it was nice to see Steve looking beat up on your behalf. 

You made your way around the kitchen, making your afternoon smoothie when your cell phone rang – electronic and annoying. You wanted to throw it in the fountain outside and watch it short circuit so people would stop talking to you on that 5 pound brick. 

“This is Rink,” you say, a smile in your voice. 

“Hey, sugar,” his voice felt like a warm cup of tea and the smile in your voice turned into a smile on your face, “Miss you over here in Hawkins.” 

A flush dances across your face, “Hi, Wayne.” 

“How’re you doin’ back in the house? It’s too big for ya to be there by yourself,” he chides. 

“I’m okay, I’m fine. Getting back to business soon,” you say, your fondness for him oozing through the phone, “How’re you? How’s Trouble treating you?” 

“I’m alright, got him fixin’ cars and trailers at the park while I work on the house. Never fun work in the cold, but I don’t really think he deserves to have much fun right now,” Wayne says, his gruffness makes you realize that Eddie is close by. 

“He got too fancy playing guitar. He wouldn’t know a hard day’s work if it hit him in the face, huh?” you laugh, so does Wayne. You both know it’s so far from the truth, but it’s fun to shit on Eddie with someone who loves him as much as you do. You hear a screen door shut behind him and Wayne’s voice gets soft and serious. 

“I can tell he’s real beat up about this, Stell,” he confess, “He’s cryin’ every time he talks about it. He wasn’t a crier growin’ up, but when he did – you know it’s hurtin’ him real bad. He misses you.” 

“I know,” you say, your heart starting to thrum with the threat of tears again. 

“But I think you’re right to let him simmer by himself a bit,” he agrees, you normally do on most things, “He’s gotta earn a sweet thing like you.”  “And I’ve been kickin’ his ass every chance I get,” he laughs again, it sounds aged and covered in nicotine. After a few minutes of chatting, you hang up – catching Eddie’s voice briefly in the background to ask for a different sized wrench. You can picture him in his old coverall, he’d shown you pictures. His hair tied up, covered in grease, his concentrated face while he disappeared under the hood or under a house. Your cheeks bloom with pink and you miss him. But it’s for the best, this waiting, all this trouble – you were both going to be so happy on the other side.

[egyptienneallure]

Young Royals Fanfiction Recommendations - A Masterlist

So the Young Royals fandom is absolutely amazing, there have been almost 400 fics published on AO3 as of today! Here is a master-list of my favourite ones so far, they all deserve so much praise! I will keep adding to it as I find new ones I like :)

These are all Wilhelm/Simon. Remember to leave kudos and nice comments for the authors!! If you have criticism let it be constructive

Multi-chaptered

Let's Start a Revolution by darlingedvin - a look at what Season 2 could be, fluffy and sweet, WIP [2k, Chapters: 2/3].

She's not you, Simon, and you're the only one I want by mentally_unstable_kid - A four-part (so far) series about Wilhelm x Simon over the Christmas break, fluff galore plus some angst, but still overall sweet and wonderfully written. Definitely give the whole series a read! Implied sexual content and alcohol/drug use references [8k across the four parts published]. Read: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

i ask nothing of you by wyoheartsmusic - author summary: Five months after the sex tape scandal, the Hillerska rowing team is going on an away trip for the Nationals. When they get to their hotel, it turns out there’s been a mix-up with the rooms and Simon didn’t get assigned a room. Despite things still being awkward between them, Wilhelm offers that Simon stay in his room with him. Multi-chaptered fic that is beautifully written, creative, fluffy, pretty much everything you want in a fic! It made me smile so much! Must-read. [34k, WIP, Chapters: 5/7]

A Snow Globe's Chance by im_having_a_crisis - I absolutely love how this author writes Wilhelm and Simon, very true to their characters. Another Christmas break/Season 2 fic, Wilhelm and Simon can’t fully stay away from each other. Lots of mutual pining, angst and Wilhelm’s anxiety. [9k, WIP, Chapters: 3/?]

Running with a crown on your head by vernice - another Christmas break fic, 2-part series. Wilhelm’s mum isn’t so bad in this one and his parents are pretty supportive. Lots of romance and sweetness, warning: sexual content included, don’t read if that’s not your thing. [4k, 2 parts] Read: Part 2

You Can't Always Get What You Want by GeekingOutDaily - pure fluff. It’s short but creative. Feels very true to the characters like it could’ve actually happened in the show. Includes mention of sexual tension but it's not explicit. [1k, Chapters: 2/2]

We could just kiss (like real people do) by Sofia_with_an_f - canon-compliant, multi-chaptered fic exploring the aftermath of the “sex tape” being leaked. Hurt/comfort, Wilhelm/Felice/Madison friendship, and Simon/Wilhelm’s relationship following the tape leak. [11k, WIP, Chapters: 10/?]

Alex, ¡ayúdame! by toffeelemon - part of the author’s Red, White and Royal Blue crossover series. Wilhelm and Simon go to Alex Claremont-Diaz for help with sexuality, coming out and sex advice. Wholesome and fluffy. Discussion of sex and sexual content included, it is done very nicely but don’t read if that’s not your thing. [14k, Chapters: 2/2]

One-shots

let's start a revolution by villiageidiot - so so beautifully written. Season 2 fic about Wilhelm being happy Simon didn’t leave Hillerska, and Wilhelm asks Simon if he can still see him sometimes. Lots of pining and sweetness. [1k, One-shot]

Hillerska Missteps by princewilhelm (ranpoandpoe) - the one where Wilhelm and Simon get their weekend together at Hillerska after all, basically AU where Erik didn’t die at the end of Episode 3. Fluff, sweetness and Slow dancing. [1k, one-shot]

After episode one, Wilhelms eyes closed and the music starts by embracedthevoid - short piece showing the “missing moment” after Wilhelm closed his eyes at the end of Episode 1. The tension is captured so well, seeing into Wilhelm’s mind in those moments. Absolutely loved it. It’s the first part of a “Missing Moments” series. [1k, one-shot (for now)]

Keep Me Company by cmere - another “what if Wilhelm and Simon got their weekend at Hillerska after all and Erik lived'' fic. Which I love so much. You get Wilhelm + Simon banter, awkwardness and Erik teasing. [2k, one-shot]

unlove's the heavenless hell and homeless home by Yubnubforhire - beautiful piece about Wilhelm being alone post 1x06 and Simon deciding to be there for him, and what happens when they get back to Hillerska. Very emotional and lovely dialogue written between Simon and Wilhelm. [5k, one-shot]

my thoughts are filled with you by lazybug16 - a lovely rewrite of 5 scenes where Wilhelm and Simon were interrupted by August, basically an AU where they weren’t interrupted and we get to have the full scenes. Very fluffy and lots of pining, guaranteed to make you smile. [3k, one-shot]

worst kept secret in history by toffeelemon - Wilhelm holds Simon’s hand in public the first day back from Christmas break. They slowly just let things happen, letting people think whatever they want. Exploration of Wilhelm’s anxiety. It’s funny and SO fluffy. [10k, one-shot]

Love Over Fear by Werewolves_are_friends_not_fiends - AU where Wilhelm comes out to the press in Episode 6 and Simon and his family comfort him. Hurt/Comfort but also fluffy. [1k, one-shot]

[icaruskey]

I think people maybe misunderstood your post or maybe I did but I assumed you were specifically talking about physically disabled ppl who imply we don’t face similar issues in the context of minimising our issues & I thought your pastor comment made that fairly obvious like yes it’s p. Fucking obvious we face different issues but like I said in my post it’s more so we face similar problems but for entirely different reasons. It’s interesting to me that they seem to not realise there are physical effects to mental illnesses that do in fact prevent me from being able to go out and whilst it’s not the same as having no wheelchair ramp my sensory issues absolutely do make many places inaccessible so I do know what it’s like to want to go somewhere and then have to leave because it’s just not accessible I literally had that issue today. Like fuck I’ve had sensory overload just trying to get my groceries and had a full on breakdown in the store. I have such bad anxiety at the moment that getting on public transport is inaccessible, going out on my own is inaccessible going out to most places are inaccessible and whilst it’s inaccessible due to different reasons than physically disabled people it doesn’t make it any less inaccessible - I don’t disagree with the fundamental statement that we have different issues because no shit we do but I also want to make sure people aren’t erasing the physical aspects many mentally ill people do face and/or minimise them. I also thought the therapy point was a little funny because it’s SO much easier to get access to therapy as a physically disabled person because you only need your GP to refer you I had to jump through a ton of hoops and then when you’re finally accepted you could be looking at long waiting lists of up to a year in some areas of the UK. When I got diagnosed with a gastrointestinal issue the specialist I saw said if it caused me pain he could refer me to a group therapy thing for pain management it focuses mostly on mindfulness techniques iirc from what my mum did although she didn’t stick out the entire thing. Like I could’ve been referred just like that bam done. Also it’s the ignorance of assuming therapy is any more accessible for the mentally ill because even if they aren’t in the UK it’s not like its anymore accessible in the US given it’s all going to likely be out of pocket for most people.

Sorry for this super long message I just had to go off cos I’m not really here for ignorance on mental illness and if you’re genuinely coming from the same place as I am where you are accepting that we do face different issues (although arguably some crossover in our experiences) but rather that you’re pissed when people use it in a way to dismiss or minimise our struggles compared to that of physically disabled people.

We're coming from the same place. We face different issues, but there's a lot of similarities and it benefits everyone (even able bodied, neurotypical people!) if we can make things more accessible for the medically disabled, be it physical or mental.

I also have accessibility issues. The biggest one being that now that I live in a city, if I take transit, I have to know where bathrooms are or else I'm fucked. I wear headphones when on my own, and I hate going out without them. My mom used to tell me I wouldn't make friends that way.

But like, why am I making friends in the bread aisle at Walmart Mom?

and I don't think it's fair for anyone to have their pain diminished. I only framed it the way I did because I still struggle with my own physical limitations. My spouse validated my disability though, saying they'd never want to switch their bum knee for my problems lol. I adore them.

[alfredosauce50]

The Place Beyond the Pines [2p! America x reader] 07

07 - Endless future, endless past Wordcount: 3, 590 Rating: M for strong language, mature and ideologically sensitive themes. Chapter synopsis: Mathias now knows Allen’s demons, and it brings them closer than they could’ve imagined. Meanwhile, you’re tortured by an unresolved past while Alfred keeps pushing forward. When the Summer months finally arrive, you go to the city fair and make a trip down memory lane. This time around, you vie for a happier ending. A/N: Disclaimer: This is a crossover with the film, “The Place Beyond the Pines”. The reader is referred to as she/her.

The Place Beyond the Pines 07 - Endless future, endless past

“You wanna know why I was robbing banks?”

Mathias nodded silently, beckoning him to continue. There was really only one answer to that question. Money. The drive to survive, the purest desire in existence. Something like moral ambiguity had no place in the equation.

Not that he was a saint by any means.

“What do I look like, Jesus? Do I need a reason?”

“Yeah, were you desperate?”

“Of course I was desperate,” The redhead scoffed. “It’s always about the fucking money. Nothing else.” A waitress came by to drop off a cup of corn chowder. He watched her place it down where Mathias pointed to—right in front of him. After some hesitation, he picked up a spoon and dunked it in. The longer Allen sat here with the guy, the more doubtful he was of his intentions.

“My treat.” Mathias folded his arms across the table. Seeing the other’s skeptical frown prompted him to add this. “Is it bad for me to be curious?”

“No,” Allen sipped a spoonful of the hot soupy goodness before sitting up again. “But you know what is bad? Robbing a fucking bank. Twice. The fact that you know that gives me no reason to trust you. Zero. Zilch.” He made a circle with his index and thumb. “So why are you even asking?”

The officer sighed, turning to the window to watch the pigeons play on the asphalt.

“Because,” Mathias turned back and leaned forward. Folding two arms across the tabletop, he caught him in a serious stare. “I need to know if what I’m doing is right. Righter than taking you in, at least.”

Allen stared at him through his brows.

“Our department is turning a blind eye to a bunch of cops stealing from the evidence room. If I took you in, they’ll just take the money you robbed and walk away scotch-free.” The officer watched him cover his mouth with a hand. Disgust ran through those scarlet red eyes as he seethed with unbridled anger.

“No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way,” Mathias reiterated. “So if you tell me what’s up with you, I’ll have an easier time following through.”

“Fine,” Allen let out a strained sigh. “The reason why I resorted to stealing wasn’t ‘cause of me. It was because of (F/N).” To think some pigs could’ve laid their grubby hands all over what was yours—God, his blood was boiling at the mere suggestion of it.

Already, Mathias had a vague idea where this was going. But he listened anyway out of respect.

“I didn’t see her for a year. When I came back, I found out we had a kid,” He screwed his eyes shut as his face contorted with pain. The silence that ensued had never been so loud. “I got her pregnant.”

Mathias covered his eyes.

“And I wasn’t there for her. I fucking... I fucking took off like an idiot,” Allen laughed mirthlessly. His voice was choked with regret, but what stood out most was the self-hatred. “She needed me. She... She needed somebody. Me. But I wasn’t around. And I never knew ‘cause I never thought to get a phone, ‘cause those things are crazy expensive, you know?”

He felt the first few tears come, so he pressed the balls of his hand to his eyes.

“I... Hah, I just thought that... I’d come back, and she’d be waiting for me. But I was so fucking naïve.” Mathias finally returned the other’s wounded, watery gaze with his own—a gentle one that spoke of nothing but remorse. He’d been so focused on what Allen was saying, on the tightness in his own chest, that he almost forgot why he was even here.

They were far from friends. But hearing this broke the ice in every way it could be broken.

“She needed somebody. She wasn’t just gonna wait around for me when I disappeared,” Allen continued, glowering darkly at the table as he found the words. And these words were what described the bane of his very existence. “She needed a man. Somebody to look after her. Somebody to...” He swallowed thickly. “So now, she’s with that piece of shit.”

Mathias nodded slowly. “Alfred, you mean.”

“Don’t make me pick up another charge, dude.”

“Sorry, geez.”

“Yeah,” He shot him a look as if to say, you better be. “And after everything that happened, they want me to stay out of her life.” Allen dropped the spoon into the now-empty cup for a clang. Darting his eyes up to his companion, he narrowed them with scorn.

“How the fuck am I supposed to stay out of her life? I didn’t help her back then, so do you think I’ll just happily fuck off again without paying child support?”

“... So you robbed a bank.”

“Yeah, I robbed a bank,” Allen uttered and nodded heatedly, staring holes right into him. “Two, ‘cause one wasn’t enough. You finally get it now?”

When it came to a child’s perception of an adult, responsible, clever, and capable, he fit the bill perfectly. If there was one thing Alfred was good at, it was making money. By the end of the year, he could sell this old house—a modest two-story abode built in the 60s, bought and owned by his folks—then break into his savings for an even bigger one.

It was all he could think about as he drove home.

And after such a great, productive day at work too. What could he say? He was good at math. Patting his hands against the wheel, he hummed to himself as he made turn after turn. He parked by the curb opposite. Exiting his car so he could jog up to the front door, he knocked on it eagerly.

“Alfred,” Hearing your relieved sigh was all it took for him to pull you in. While he squeezed you in a tight hug, he brought you deeper into the living room with his strong arms. When he released you to show that bright grin of his, you returned the gesture with a warm smile. “Let me guess. Good day at work?”

“Yep. I can smell that promotion comin’ right around the corner. We’re finally getting there.”

“Oh, yeah? That’s amazing!” You squeezed his hands. He brought your left one to his mouth to kiss it. The news should’ve had you jumping with joy on his behalf, especially with the way he looked at you with that love-laden gaze, but it never came. “How about we celebrate with some Seinfeld at nine-thirty?”

When you stood at your side, the coffee table came into view. On top of that was a mini charcuterie board. Alfred could smell the sweetness of the cranberries. It must’ve been from his favorite biscuits. Next to that was a wheel of brie, some green grapes, apple slices, prosciutto—

“You know me so well,” He gleamed, dropping his leather shoulder bag for a light ‘thunk’. It was only eight in the evening, but he never liked his cheese cold. Whisking you away to the bathroom, he pressed a hard kiss to your cheek. “Let’s take a bath. Then, we can watch it. This is the last episode, isn’t it?”

“Of this season, yes,” Leading him up the stairs at that, you turned back to watch his attentive gaze. “Don’t worry. They’re gonna make more next year.” That came out as more of a joke than anything, but it sparked the most earnest response he could ever give. In those ocean blue eyes that dazzled with excitement was a sea of possibilities.

An unrelenting zest for life and love for the future.

“I’m optimistic.” Alfred flashed his pearly whites.

You recognized that look. He was probably thinking about putting down a deposit for a house again. A house far away from this crummy, run-down neighborhood. It was supposed to be a fresh, new chapter of your life. A life of comfort and fulfillment.

So why couldn’t you rejoice at the thought of it?

It was no question you adored Alfred with all your heart. When you thought you wouldn’t have a chance at romance again, being pregnant with another man’s baby, he came in. He never thought badly about it. You cried when he said it, that he wanted you regardless. Of course, loving him became ridiculously easy. He was the whole package.

But you never stopped comparing him to Allen.

Not then, and not now.

And it was the bane of your existence.

It was the middle of the night. Cicadas were chirping away in the grass, and Mathias could barely see where he was going. The only thing he could use as guidance was the faint outline of Allen’s back. After a minute of following him around, his feet stepped onto the hard, gravelly surface of a driveway. The dry dirt was compressed into the ground after enduring years of being treaded and driven on.

“This is my bike.”

Allen lifted the garage door with a loud rumble. He flicked on the lights, which blinked a few times before reaching a constant, irritating buzz. Immediately, Mathias frowned at what he saw. A messy workshop. Inside stood Allen’s beloved black motorcycle, his most expensive and treasured belonging of all time. In other words, it was a dump.

He didn’t mean to show it, but he’d always been too sympathetic for his own good.

“Just like the files,” He murmured, walking in with the other to inspect it at closer proximity. Turning to the redhead with his hands on his hips, he shook his head. “It’s too obvious. There are only so many of these models going around in town. You’re asking for it.” His companion licked their bottom lip in thought.

“And what’re you suggesting I do about it?”

“We gotta get rid of it.”

Allen scoffed. Then, he laughed.

“You’re... You’re asking me to get rid of my baby,” Mathias rose his brows until a single wrinkle formed on his forehead. It never slipped from his mouth, but he would’ve asked if Allen ever heard himself talk. “This thing is my life, you know? I can’t just get rid of it. I’ve had it for ages! And you know how much—”

“If you don’t, you’ll never see your other baby again,”

That effectively shut Allen up.

“Your real baby.”

The bike was gone. Reduced to nothing but spare parts. What mattered was that it became unrecognizable, so that was one major lead that became a dead end. Robin had to take it apart, considering Allen was too upset to do it himself.

Now that Mathias helped him on his case, he had to help himself. He went to see the district attorney before the chief could rat him out to everyone else. Rewinding the tape so he could play it for the man, he watched his face lose its color as the sordid recording reached the end.

“You got any idea what this means?” The DA began in a stern voice. “Are you ready to do it?”

Mathias nodded slowly, prompting him to add this.

“Are you really ready, son? ‘Cause they’re gonna fucking tear you in half.”

“I’m gonna need your assurance that you’re gonna follow through with it. And I’m gonna want full immunity when you do.” Hearing the cutting conviction in the rookie’s voice, then seeing it burning cold in his eyes made it baffling he was a newbie. He was too clever to stay at the bottom.

“You can’t just walk in here and tell me what the fuck to do.” The DA shook his head. Before he could add anything else, the over-zealous officer interrupted.

“And when you do, I wanna be made sergeant.”

The other stared at him like he’d gone mad.

“You’ve only been here a year.”

“I’m a quick learner.” Mathias’s stare on him was unwavering. His persistence was something—it got on his superior’s nerves, to say the least.

“I don’t have a spot for you right now.”

“Make a spot.”

The DA breathed out through his nostrils. This guy was unbelievable. “I won’t do that. I can’t just snap my fingers and make you sergeant.” He clicked.

The blonde stood up with the tape. None of his friends could’ve taken him as a blackmailer. But fear was a formidable thing. If he could climb up a few rungs of the ladder, he’d have leverage over everyone else. He’d be above all the shit everyone else was groveling in. He’d no longer be someone they could push around—not as easily as a rookie, anyway.

“You can say no. You can say no, I’ll walk out this door, I’ll walk over to the Gazette, I’ll tell them everything I know, including this conversation.”

“Listen, you’re not going anywhere.”

Mathias saw his way out.

“Don’t. Listen—” The man slammed his fist against the table nervously. His subordinate turned around. “Put it back on the fucking table, I’ll fucking do it.”

When he made a commitment, he always stuck through with it. He told Allen he had enough of being a bottom feeder. He saw so much wrong with the department and hearing the former stuntman’s story gave him the push he needed to do this.

He wasn’t about to let these dirty cops bring them both down. But somewhere along the line, he might’ve become one himself.

Three months passed. It was finally August.

In the middle of Summer, everybody went to the fair. Corn dogs, rodeos, and rides, they all captured the essence of the American heat.

Alfred insisted to go at least five times, and by the fourth, it was becoming a chore for you. Little did you know, tonight was when your love for these festivities would be reignited.

When your lover sat on a bench with you, he had Jason on his lap. He was becoming an energetic little thing, always kicking his legs and wriggling on his father’s thighs. The sight was too irresistible. So there you sat, licking your snow cone while watching Alfred struggle to keep him still.

“Jason, c’mon—dad is trying to eat, here.” He sighed, handing you his stick of deep-fried butter.

“Want me to hold him?”

“No,” Alfred pulled the child further up his thighs. With a sheepish expression, he added this. “You know the drill. Whoever suggests the outing has to hold him for the day. Or night. It’s only fair.”

You laughed. “That’s where we are right now, yes.”

“It can’t just be me who’s enjoying myself, right?” The man smiled gently, stifling back a snort.

“I thought you loved fairs.”

You did too. It was where everything started, after all. Allen and the Heartthrobs, Jason, everything. But nothing ever lasted. A place of fond memories was now a graveyard of ghosts. You hadn’t seen Allen for a hot minute either. He quit his job at the diner a few weeks back, so you’d been worried ever since. Was he getting by with his part-time work with Robin?

“I do,” Your tone rose as you crunched on some ice. “It’s just that... Coming here five times in the last month can make me love it a little less. You know?”

“Right,” Jason bounced on him again. “Well, you’ll be happy to hear this will be the last time. Work is getting kinda hectic.” While you nodded along, the child continued to struggle on his lap.

The excessive movement caused something to plop out of his pocket. A small velvet box.

You saw it the second it hit the bench. Alfred never noticed, having his attention piqued by the restless baby in his arms. He was blessed with a moment of ignorance. You, however, felt as if the world had just lost cabin pressure. Your breathing grew shallow until your head spun like one of the carousels you rode.

Getting proposed to was one thing.

But getting proposed to in public?

“I need to go to the bathroom.” You stumbled out, earning an unassuming nod from the other.

“Sure. I’ll look for you in a minute.”

Without another second wasted, you stood up and walked off briskly. The further away you got from him, the harder reality hit you like a couple of bricks. It was finally happening. Everything you could’ve dreamed of, everything he could’ve dreamed of, was unfolding in a tiny gift box. He was finally tying the loop to be with you forever, or so the vows said.

But you were crying. And they weren’t tears of joy.

After cleaning yourself up the best you could, you walked out with your face still flushed. Keeping your head down as an attempt to hide it, you never managed to steer clear from random members of the public. But this particular stranger was no stranger at all. Bumping into their chest in a soft collision, you glanced up quickly to apologize—

“I’m so sorry, I—” Your eyes went wide. “—Allen?”

He held onto your shoulders and grinned.

“The one and only,” He reached out to your cheek instinctively. His smile, touch, and scent immediately overwhelmed your senses. And just like that, he made you forget everything and everyone that wasn’t him. And so, in that very second, you couldn’t be happier you fled to the bathroom.

It never occurred to you how much you missed him until he said it first.

“How’s it hanging?” Allen hummed, pinching you affectionately. “I missed you, doll.”

Your gaze fell to the ground.

“I could’ve been better.” You uttered faintly, feeling heat rush up to your eyes again. Bile rose in your throat as your chest constricted. When you opened your mouth, hot tears overwhelmed your waterline to start streaming down to your chin. When he saw, his heart ached uncontrollably with guilt.

It only intensified as you choked back sobs.

“Where were you? Why did you leave so suddenly?”

Allen’s ears rang at the questions. They invited a painful pang of déjà vu. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled you into a tight hug. Not that it was needed when you launched yourself into his arms. “I’m sorry,” He screwed his eyes shut as he fought back tears of his own. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Were you just gonna leave me again?”

“No, God—fuck, I could never. I just got a new job, that was all,” He explained breathily, planting kiss after kiss to your tear-stained face. Tightening his strong arms around you protectively, he pulled away only to press his forehead to yours. “I’m a fucking idiot, okay? I should’ve known better. I should’ve called, I know. I’ll get a phone tomorrow, I promise.”

“You promise?” You squeezed him, tilting your face up to brush your nose against his. When he nodded, you felt his skin rub against yours gently.

“I promise. Cross my heart,” Allen whispered, closing his eyes for a bittersweet smile. “I’ll never do that shit again, alright? I’m not going anywhere.”

Your lips twitched up with a light tremble.

“Good. You wanna tell me what new job you got?”

He laughed through his nose.

“Oh, yeah. Mathias actually helped me get a proper job. I’m gonna be an auto-mechanic in the next town over. And it actually pays well,” You hung off his strong neck and kissed him again. He returned the gesture ten-fold, letting his open mouth mesh against yours heatedly. “It’s all thanks to you.”

“That’s so good! I’m so happy for you, I’m shaking—” And shake you did. But it slowly subsided as you remembered your side of things. “I... I might be moving somewhere too. I don’t know.”

Allen frowned. “Moving? Where to?”

“To a bigger city, maybe,” He shook his head at the sound of it. Wherever that may be, it couldn’t be anywhere near him, could it? “It’s Alfred. He wants a bigger house in a suburban neighborhood.” His stare on you grew so hot, you hung your head to avoid it. But you still knew what kind of look he gave you.

In those scarlet red irises burned an intense determination that refused everything he heard.

“I think he was gonna propose tonight.”

Allen didn’t know what came over him when he processed the words. Insanity was probably it. Taking your hand into his, he dragged you away to the parking lot. He’d been respectful in the past. But this? He was about to desecrate the boundaries and conventions he forced himself to align to.

And he’d never been so sure of something in his life.

“Al, wait—what’re you doing?!” You exclaimed, tugging at his hand to release yourself. With his freak strength, the valiant efforts ended up fruitless. “Could you stop for a second? Let’s talk about this!” He never responded and dragged you all the way to his car. Upon giving it a closer look, it was Mathias’s.

“No.” Holding you up against the door, he trapped you there with hands on either side of your waist. Then, he loomed his head over yours.

Once again, he held you hostage. His imposing body was never something you could win over, let alone your own emotions you had no control over. Your resolve to resist him was gradually sapped away by his warm breaths that fanned over your mouth. Soon, he could put his hands on you without retribution.

“I don’t wanna wait anymore. I don’t wanna stop,” Allen muttered in a voice no higher than a whisper. “Just do what you should’ve done ages ago.”

Time came to a standstill, and so did your heart.

“Come back to me.”

Next chapter:

[washymylifeaway]

Haikyuu fanfic recs but it’s just more of my faves pt 2 LOL

Hiya loves! My other fic rec (linked here) did well enough that I decided to make a pt 2 :D Here are some more of my faves that I didn’t get to recommend last time!!!! Again the rules are the same, two per ship and no cp (but of course I AM SUFFERING UGH) :’(((

As always, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for fics before reading and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

IwaOi (I made a top ten linked here):

darlin', your head's not right by aruariandance (T) 13.6k // AJKFFJA THIS ONE!!!! I really love this one and unconfident Oikawa is THE MOVE. I really liked the portrayal of Oikawa in this one, it’s done SO WELL :D Everything about this fic is amazing and the ending was SO CUTE,,, I love recursive endings!!!!!

nevermind (but i mind) by seabear (M) 9.9k // TELEPATHY. Okay prefacing this with the fact that there is SMUT in this, so be careful as you read! But the communication in this one? Nonexistent. And like Iwa’s mom? The mfing mvp. It’s a great fic and the ending was FLUFF.

KuroKen:

Addiction and Attachment by eevaeon (T) 41.8k // I’VE BEEN WAITING TO REC THIS OMG. You want a Kenma taking care of Kuroo? HERE IT IS :DDDD The feels in this one are high and it’s just SO GOOD. And they’re so cute the fluff is just so fluffy in this :D

Step by Step by dgalerab (M) 14.7k // inclusivity!!! I really like this one and it’s another where Kuroo gets kinda comforted by Kenma and Kuroo’s a bit desperate in this as well LOL. Also some BokuAka plot and poor Akaashi with the shirt omg. There’s some homophobia and smut so be careful as you read! 

BokuAka:

In the Absence of Light by meeks00 (E) 50.7k // WITCHES AND WITCH HUNTERS LETS GOOOOO. I really love this one because 1. Akaashi and Kenma’s friendship is one of my favorite hc! And 2. because of MAGIC AHHH! It’s a whole mess, but it’s such a good fic omg. CHECK TAGS AND WARNINGS cause fighting and SMUT!

Karma by dgalerab (T) 9k // PETTY AKAASHI? Sign me up. But no really, I love how Akaashi is in this fic and I think he’s characterized SO well! Also I too would get distracted as Bokuto does yoga with me ahaha. Anyway, I love the dynamics between everyone in this fic and it’s CUTE.

DaiSuga:

butterfly in the subway by bigspoonnoya (T) 62.8k // please, I’ve said other fics are a big mess BUT this one might just take the cake. It’s a mixture of ships with DaiSuga being the main one, so read it even if you don’t love DaiSuga (and then you’ll love them LOL). It’s like everything that could go wrong, goes wrong but the AsaNoya in this was SO cute!

you can only take what you can carry by skittidyne (T) 4.2k // Suga is strong. That’s it. That’s literally the whole fic LMAO. But no seriously, I wish I could’ve been there in person to ogle at the muscles cause like think about it. ANyway, Yachi is best. (if this made no sense, go read the fic LOL)

KyouHaba:

if not, winter by knightswatch (M) 54k // YES THIS FIC. THIS ONE RIGHT HERE. I love the development of their relationship,,, IT’S SO GOOD. Like when our boy Yahaba goes on that really friendly field trip and Kyoutani takes matters into his own hands? UGH YES. And when they visit? CUTE OMG. Yes this fic is it.

Isolated Parts by darkmagicalgirl (T) 3.3k // I love this fic cause old men KyouHaba are funny (fight those refs) and I love the nonlinear plot. It really adds another layer to the fic itself, and slowly unraveling the plot through the different years was SO IUAHFJF. I really loved it and piecing everything together :’)

MatsuHana:

Magical Mishaps and How to Deal by plumtrees (M) 10.9k // I lost this fic once and I searched for it FOR THE LONGEST TIME. But that’s cause I wanted to reread this masterpiece. IT’S SO FUNNY AND CUTE AND DOMESTIC AND UGH. Also the small angst made me SO SAD. But the ENDING? THE KISSES AHHHHHHH. (I’m yelling a lot BUT that’s cause I really love this fic <3333)

hang out fall in love by carafin (T) 8.6k // I love the Makki hates Mattsun initially but then falls for the irresistible charm he posses trope. It might be my favorite trope for MatsuHana specifically LOL. Like I really love this fic and it has MAGIC. It’s like a magical version of the VA one LOL. But like no radio shows or reunited best friends in this one :(

SakuAtsu:

the 28 postcards you left me by wheelspokes (T) 8.3k // Okay the whole concept of this fic made me laugh ngl. Like I hate exes to lovers but this concept made me read it and I don’t regret it. I felt Atsumu’s panic when he sent the first one and then later LOL. I loved Omi’s side too OMG, also there’s a timeline at the end :D

the home we built in hell by awkwardedgeworth (T) 5k // I love this fic. I love the execution of this fic. It’s written so well and the development they go through IS SO GOOD. Like the plot is just AMAZING and I literally cannot express in words how much I adore this fic. PLEASE READ IT! But be mindful of the tags FOR SURE!

SunaOsa:

Even forever is too short of a time with you by miyarinnnn (T) 53.8k // C U T E!!!! I really like this one and the way it went through all the time from the beginning. Technically this is the second fic and you SHOULD read the first one! But I loved seeing the references again and being able to read this from Osamu’s POV. I liked how it went in depth into everything,,, IT’S SO GOOD UGH.

Heart Reign by tookumade (series) 42.3k // ngl, I hate the second fic cause it makes me so angry AHHHHH. JK but seriously, it made me angry. Like my favorite is the last one (for obvious reasons), but every time I reread this series, I skip the second one cause I don’t want to GO THROUGH THE EMOTIONS. AGAIN. Like I hate Chuo now AHHHH. But read this series cause it’s AMAZING and makes me happy. The running and catching was the perfect touch to the end of the first fic and there’s a pov swap (the fourth one!) but I love the reminiscing in the third one too :D (but like I said the fifth one is my favorite!!!) 

(Also cause I can’t help myself, if you want another one I love that I’ve recommended before by tookumade, but not for spring to well up is literally my favorite fic of ALL TIME. Like out of all the fics I’ve read, still will be forever in love with this one ok bye. post where I yell about how much I love this fic linked HERE)

Random:

In Good Faith We Swap Our Aces by WInger (G) 15.1k // what’s a post without a chaotic fic? This is just a meme fic, essentially. It’s so funny and all the aces stories made me laugh like,,,, Yeah it’s literally just a crossover event with the schools and it’s just super lighthearted so I liked it LOL.

[askaceattorney]

Parting Gift #9

For this gift, I’d like to travel back in time to the days when I was just a follower of this blog, eagerly awaiting responses to the letters I’d sent.

It turns out the total number of letters I’ve sent that got an answer from the Mod total 314 -- no fooling -- with six answered by the Modthorne, and several more from the other Mods (I haven’t kept track of the number answered by them, but I’ll get on that soon).  I filled a Word file with links to each of them, in case you’re wondering where I got those numbers from.  That should give you an idea of how dedicated a submitter I was.

I won’t list them all here, of course, but I’d like to share a few of my favorites here in -- you guessed it -- reverse-chronological order, along with some personal notes about each of them:

1. A “G”

This was the first of my letters to be answered by the Modthorne.  She and I were both new at portraying Ace Attorney characters back then (at least outside of our roleplays with one another), but I’d say she did a pretty decent job of it.  I did have to explain this letter’s pun to her, though.  X )

2. Burger

I wrote this letter to see how Her Benevolence felt about Maya’s favorite food, only to find out (at least according to the Mod) that she’s never even heard of it.  I don’t even know what to say to that.

Aaaaaand I just now noticed the typo.  Shame on me.

3. Keeping a Tab

I just have to say, any letter response that includes Maya being Maya is a good one in my book.

4. Disappointment

One thing I loved most was when the Mod was willing to take something from my headcanon -- Alita’s parents’ reaction to her crime, in this case -- and add it to it with his character response, even including the part where they called her their “little angel.”  It’s not always easy to work with characters invented by someone else (and it was technically against the rules), but he was nice enough to do it anyway, I think he did it rather well.

5. Disgustink Body Vunctions

This one was a reference to a Calvin and Hobbes comic -- a series loved by both me and the Mod -- so I imagine it was a fun one for both of us.  I also appreciated seeing his occasional hashtags, which he used sparingly -- something that I’ve tried to continue in order to avoid stealing the spotlight from the characters (this blog is about them, after all).  Even so, it always felt pretty special when he included one of those.  I hope the same can said about those of you who noticed them in our responses to your letters.

6. Nick at Night

Maya being Maya again.  Somebody needs to draw a picture of her stacking things on Phoenix while he’s asleep.

7. More Like Your Father

This one was a Star Fox 64 reference, as any of you gamers probably could’ve guessed.  Trucy being Trucy also makes for a great letter response, doesn’t it?

8. Just the Thing

Oh, and Pearl being Pearl, too!  I’m a huge fan of Bruce Hornsby, by the way.  I even referenced him once in a letter response.

9. Wish You Were Here

A simple response, but a good one.  This was before I had a Tumblr account, which is why I had to place the picture right at the top and include “(see image)” in the letter.

10. Take It Outside

Athena being Athena.  Nothing makes my day quite like that, y’all.

11. Listening to Music

So, uh...yeah.  Turns out I shipped Athena and Apollo even back then.  I’d love to see a situation where one of them tries to teach the other how to dance, and they stomp all over each other’s feet, but still end up enjoying it somehow.  That’s just me, though.

12. Vibe Island

Just a fun crossover conversation between Super Princess Peach’s Perry and Athena.  Although, in retrospect, Athena visiting Vibe Island might be a little on the dangerous side...

13. Are You Going to Eat That?

Nothing to add here, except that I couldn’t have answered that better myself.

14. Changed for the Better

A beautiful mixture of raw bittersweetness and Maya being Maya.

15. Nickelodeoooooon!!!

I always loved it when the Mod took my idea (or someone else’s) and made it even funnier than it was on its own, as in this letter.  Let’s be honest, Phoenix being covered in slime and staring ahead in surprise is a little too much fun to imagine.

16. Life and Death

The concept of spirit channeling was always one of the strangest parts of the Ace Attorney series to me, which is why I decided to ask Maya about the ups and downs of spirit channeling existing vs. the ups and downs of it not existing.  Her response was somewhat more satisfying than I was anticipating.

17. “Phrase” is the Category

This one technically broke the rule of pretending you’re writing a letter on paper, but it was too hard to resist, so I’m glad the Mod went with it.

18. Wrong Blog

Ibuki isn’t an official letter recipient here, in case you’re wondering -- this happened during an April Fool’s Day event where the Mod let people send letters to anybody or anything, so I decided to poke fun at the fact that people kept sending letters from Ibuki, and the Mod apparently decided to go with it.

Heck, maybe we should save some time and just invite her on.

19. Quite the Turnabout

Espella being her adorable self.  I still imagine her and Maya getting along well, even if she doesn’t have the same “moxie” as her.

20. The Blue Badger

A sweet interaction between The Chief and Pearl, who ended up unwittingly being a huge contributor to the Blue Badger’s popularity.

21. Legit

This actually happened, by the way -- my sister and I were playing Dual Destinies together, and when Simon told the Judge that Yuri Kosmos was a ghost, she said, “I like Blackquill.  He’s legit.”  I figured he ought to know.

22. Putting Down an Orca

I can’t say I was expecting a joke from Dr. Crab of all people, but apparently even cranky veterinarians have a sense of humor.

23. Hypothetical Situation

I completely forgot I wrote this one, actually.  Sure, maybe it’s a little far-fetched, but who knows?  It might just make for a very touching scene.

24. Normal People

Just to be clear, Phoenix is anything but normal when it comes to lawyering, but I thought I should point out that he’s one of the most normal-looking and normal-acting people we see in the courtroom.  Most of the others seem...

...a little off, in my opinion.

25. Something to Think About

I enjoyed this one a little more than I should have.  Come to think of it, I’m kind of surprised I never tried that technique.

26. Written Apology

This was another reference to a Calvin and Hobbes comic, believe it or not -- this one specifically:

(Source)

27. Seriously?

I honestly wasn’t expecting this one to be answered, considering the rule about religious subjects, but lo and behold, it was!  With a very satisfying answer, I might add.

28. You Still Have a Chance

Having Alita “Diet Dahlia” Tiala get a cautionary letter from a remorseful Dahlia is, I admit, a pretty weird idea, but one I couldn’t resist exploring here.  Whether or not she would end up taking her advice, I don’t know, but I still find it interesting.

29. Science Joke

One good joke deserves another, and the Mod certainly delivered on this one.

30. Huge Meanie

This letter references something Athena said in Dual Destinies:

I decided to have her follow through on that threat, and...well, as you can see, it didn’t get her very far.

31. Haiku

Pure poetry.

32. Afterlife Humor

Joe was meant to be one of Moe’s ancestors, in case that wasn’t clear.  How he managed to get into heaven, I’ll never know...

33. Let’s-a Go!!!

This one resulted in way more likes, reblogs, and comments than I anticipated, so I was very glad to have delighted so many people with it.  It turns out I wasn’t the only one to have this idea -- sometime later, an artist by the name of iKiwed decided to make it into a full-on animation!  I don’t know whether they got the idea from this letter or had it on their own, but it’s still pretty amazing.

34. Be Thankful

Any day I can make Ron DeLite feel sure about something is a good day.  I hope I’m lucky enough to find a wife as faithful as his someday.

35. WARPED

As someone commented in this one, clever Blackquill is clever.  For anyone who didn’t catch it, the letter was a reference to the Andy Griffith Show. 

36. Letter from Sadness

Leave it to Athena to change the mood with just three sentences.

37. God Himself

Once again, I never expected this letter to get an answer, but once again, I was pleasantly surprised when it was.  Definitely food for thought, whether you believe in divine judgement in the hereafter or not.  The less sins you commit, the less you’ll have to answer for down the road.

38. Wii Fit

I was just getting into Wii Fit when I sent this one (which is a lot of fun, by the way).  Six years later, I’m starting to think I should get back into it.

39. Dark Spirits

A reference to Disney’s Haunted Mansion.  Does anyone still remember that movie?

40. Blowing Off Some Steam

This one was admittedly a little harsh, but I’ve thought even worse things while on the job (and so have you, I’m willing to bet), and I imagine Polly Apollo’s no exception.

41. Just for Being You

Regardless of how it may seem, this wasn’t meant to be a Phoenix x Iris letter.  It was just Phoenix letting Iris know that he appreciated everything she did for him.  And boy, what a sweet response that was.  X|| )

42. You and Widget

This definitely wasn’t the response I was expecting, but that made it even more enjoyable (and made me love Athena even more).

43. Professor Layton vs. Ace Attorney

This response makes me laugh every time I read it.�� Pearl just can’t help but be a sweetheart sometimes...by which I mean all the time.

44. Am I Right?

I can’t say I blame Ema, but I still couldn’t resist exploring that idea, if only for the pun.

45. Protection

Could be, Iris.  Could be.

46. “Far Side” Comic

Let’s be honest -- that comic was tailor-made for Godot.

47. Impersonations

This response highlighted one of my favorite things about Iris -- she may be shy, meek, and gullible, but she’s at least strong enough to face the wrongs she’s done.  If she were ever to appear in a future game, I’d love to see that side of her come out a little more often.

48. TSST!

What the Mod said.

49. Dahlia’s Turnabout

Yeah, yeah, I know...  Dahlia sending something like this to her sister probably wouldn’t happen in a million years, but...possibly in a million and one?  You never know.  In any case, I wanted to create a bit more closure between the two of them, and the Mod was kind enough to help with that in his response.

50. Phoenix Wrong

My first letter to Athena, and oh, BOY, was I excited when she answered it.  Rereading it now reminds me of how much of an inspiration she and her story have been to me, and how much I want to be like her -- not to become a lawyer or a psychology expert, but to have the same success-oriented attitude she has.  If someone who’s been through the things she has can stay positive, I see no reason why no one else can.

And last but not least, here’s the very first letter I sent that got an answer:

51. Similarities

Phoenix Wright being Phoenix Wright.  Who could ask for anything more in a letter from him, am I Wright?

...Okay, so maybe this was more than a few.  I was originally going to list only ten of them here, but in all honesty, I was just barely able to whittle it down to this many.  I just love them all so dang much!  X )

If you’ve taken the time to look through all of these letters (or even most of them), you may have noticed my unhealthy obsession with poking fun at dead redheads...or at least one of them in particular.  Something about a girl who was as selfish and cruel in death as she was in life bugged me to no end, which is what led me to tease her about her bad attitude, her plans failing, and, well...everything else.  I also felt bad for Iris, who loved her and wanted to have faith in her, but was belittled and betrayed by her in the end, which is why I sent a bunch of nice letters her way.  I realize I’m no better than either of them in the end, of course, but sometimes you just have to say what’s on your mind, even if it’s just to fictional characters.  Call it a desire for justice, I guess.

Also, I wasn’t planning to reveal this until my very last day here, but there was no way to share these without doing so.  As you've probably pieced together by now (if your detective skills are any better than Gumshoe’s), James is my real name.  As far as you know, at least.

And just in case you’re curious about my last name, it’s...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...Moriarty.

Again, as far as you know.

-The Co-Mod

[pretend-writer]

Paranoid (Supernatural x The Umbrella Academy

Crossover

Summary: Things go wild when Y/N Winchester and Diego Hargreeves tries to make an announcement for their families. 

Pairing: Winchester x sister!reader, Diego Hargreeves x reader

Title Reference: Paranoid x Jonas Brothers

Word Count: 1.6k words

Warning: mention of the dead, mention of violence, swearing

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It was a small tradition that we'd all gather together and have dinner at the Hargreeve's mansion. Allison, Vanya, Sam and I would all cook together, usually something different every time just to see if the others would like the food.

Ever since Diego and I have started dating, Dean and Sam had sort of used this dinner idea to watch us. "I need to keep an eye on this boy" is what Dean would usually say, even though he wouldn't even see him the other times I'm alone with him. Didn't see the full logic in that but I guess it made him feel somewhat safe.

The Winchesters having dinner with The Hargreeves was always merry and cheerful. Everyone had smiles on their faces, enjoying the food and the company.

We'd usually share stories of what happened; Dean, Sam and I would talk about our hunts. The Hargreeves would talk about which take downs they had, usually bragging about who had the most arrests within the week.

Everytime this topic had been brought up, we would say that we needed to collaborate and work together. Diego, Five and Vanya had joined us on hunts every now and then. The rest were too chicken to face the monsters in the real world.

This time however, these fun talks didn't happen. The dinner table instead felt intense; Dean wouldn't stop staring at Diego, Sam was upset his dish didn't turn out better than he expected. Vanya had not slept at all practicing on her violin, Allison stayed up all night learning the recipe for today and perfecting it.

Everyone was just in a terrible mood and now with all the grouchiness, I wasn't able to deliver the news that I was hoping to tell everyone at the dinner table.

I was already nervous enough to say I was pregnant, with everyone in a bad mood I don't even know what to add to make my announcement even merrier. Well, I doubt nothing would make it better; I just knew everyone was going to freak out, especially my brothers.

Dean eyed me as I played with my food, biting his bottom lip and observed me like he always did when I was with Diego. 'You barely ate your food, 'Y/N.'

'Uh, yeah sorry.' I answered quickly trying to force myself to look unsuspicious. 'Just not really hungry.'

'Can I have your plate then?' Luther asked with his mouth full, pointing at my dinner.

'Knock yourself out.' He snatched the plate that was in front of me, digging into it as if he hadn't eaten for days.

Five cocked his head, I swear he had mind-reading powers too because he was always up to something. 'Diego, you're quiet as well.'

'Just enjoying my meal.' Diego smiled with the fork still in his mouth.

Sam looked to his left then right, 'What's going on? Am I missing something?'

'I'm just tired, I don't know about the rest of you guys.' Vanya yawned, slowly eating her food.

'Same, actua-'

'No way!' Klaus screamed interrupting me as I was about to talk to Vanya. He talked and blabbed a lot but I haven't heard him talk so loudly until now. 'You're kidding me right?'

Five sighed, 'Didn't we tell you to stop bringing your dead friends to the dinner table?'

'No, no, no, no, no. This isn't just some random friend. It's Ben!'

Everyone groaned at the same time, tired of hearing Klaus bringing Ben up whenever it was convenient for him. During important hunt meetings, he would cast him out of the group. Whenever Klaus had excuses, he loved using his brother's name to pin him for whatever that was happening at the time.

Of course Ben couldn't even defend himself. Poor boy.

'I know, I know. I sound like I'm lying right now but I PROMISE I'm not.' Klaus whined, trying to convince us that he was telling the truth.

'I'm tired of hearing your bullcrap Klaus. I can't even imagine what Ben has to hear from you every time you're not around us.' Luther commented.

'You guys would want to hear this though! Oh, please please please.'

'What is it about?' Allison questioned Klaus.

Dean shook his head, 'Really Allison? Why did you encourage him?'

'Oh, Dean. You would definitely want to hear this.'

Five rolled his eyes and sighed, not even questioning his brother. Klaus kept on yapping about how he wanted to tell us this huge gossip that he heard from Ben.

'Why don't you just get to the point then, Klaus?' Diego finally said what everyone else was thinking.

'Are you sure you want me to tell them about your business?' Klaus grinned, clearly enjoying this "big secret" he had.

Diego shrugged, 'I don't really have anything to hide. I love you brother, but I doubt you know anything about my personal life.'

'Okay then.' Klaus cleared his throat, standing from his seat with a huge grin on his face. 'Y/N is pregnant.'

Dean spat water from his mouth, covering it as some landed on my forehead since I sat across from him. Sam made a face, staring at me to see my reaction.

'That's the dumbest lie I've heard.' Luther laughed, 'Wasn't even close to getting me. Nice try though.'

'Seriously, Klaus. At least make us laugh.' Five snickered and continuing to eat his food, unbothered. 'Are you two not even going to defend yourselves?'

'Ah.' I bit my lip, embarrassed that Klaus had to announce my big news in front of everyone. My brother's reaction said it all, they didn't even know what he said was true.

'Surprise?' Diego blushed, scratching his head as he tried to hide his embarrassment.

We were already nervous to bring our pregnancy to our family, Klaus suddenly blurting it our in front of everyone had made things worse than expected.

Sam looked at me, then back to Diego. 'Wait, wait, wait. Pr-Pregnant? Am I- Are you-'

My brother was practically panicking; Not going to lie, although I was afraid of their reaction, the way Sam's eyes wandered around like a lost puppy was cute.

Dean on the other hand was at loss of words. His usual angry reaction was what I expected and seeing him not do or say anything at all sort of scared me.

'I'll be an aunt!' Allison cheered, jumping up and down her seat. 'Is it going to be a boy? Oh I hope it's a girl.'

'Have you thought of names yet!?' Vanya smiled, joining Allison. 'Wait? You think the kid will turn out to have superpowers? Oh wow.'

'Diego you may want to run.' I murmured, watching Dean not move a muscle. Being too focused on my oldest brother's reaction, I blocked out whatever Allison and Vanya was discussing on he side.

'Ah, Ben. You little shit.' Diego talked under his breath, burying his head in his arms as he felt Dean's glare.

Klaus spoke nervously, 'Aha. Ben says sorry but blames me for how I went on about it.'

Luther tapped on his shoulder, 'You're not helping at all. I mean, look at Diego. He's shaking like a chihuahua.'

'Someone please make it make sense.' Sam places his hand on his forehead. 'Y/N. How did it happen?'

'Well, Diego and Y/N obviously had se-'

'Don't even finish that sentence, little kid.' Dean cut Five off, 'Y/N. I don't even know what to say but what the fuck?'

'I wanted to tell you guys tonight the proper way but you guys seemed so intense, I didn't know how to start this news.'

Sam lightly smiled, despite the panic I still saw through his eyes. 'Y/N, you and Diego have been dating for about six years now. I'm happy that you found someone other than your brothers that loves you so much.'

'No, no.' Dean crossed his arms, he was the total opposite of how Sam was acting. It hurt my heart a little that my brother was acting the way he did but there was nothing that I could've done.

The room went to silence, everyone staring at me and Dean as we all waited for him to say something else. It was odd to see Dean say a few words when he was pissed, which frightened me more.

He continued to stare at me intensely, taking a deep breath and taking in the little detail that he got from Klaus' announcement.

I wished that Diego and I had told everyone instead, otherwise this awkward moment between my brothers and me wouldn't have happened. Or at least could've been slightly better.

Dean shifted his eyes to Diego, I practically heard my boyfriend gulping from right next to me. Him and Sam freaked out when I've told him we started dating, Diego couldn't imagine what was going on in Dean's head.

'You were my little sister that always needed me, a little nut that never left my side. Now you're all grown up, about to start your own family.' Dean unexpectedly started to tear up, sniffling quietly. 'You just grew up so fast, Y/N.'

'Dean..' I reached over the table, grabbed his hand and squeezed it. 'I'll always need you. I'll need you and Sam. You'll always be my brother and I'll always be your little sister.'

'That is so cute.' Klaus smiled. 'See, Ben? I told you blabbing this would've not been so bad.'

'Oh, nah. This is bad.' Diego looked at his brother. 'You really thought it was a good ide-'

Luther hugged Diego from the side, 'Congrats brother! Wow. I'm going to be an uncle.'

'Now we have to celebrate! Let's go clubbing!' Allison got up, walking towards me as she pulled me from my seat.

'Oh no. That's a huge no.' Sam shook his head, 'Last time we went, Diego was practically eye humping my sister. No.'

Five laughed, 'That's why she's pregnant. Duh.'

Dean quickly turned his head, 'Really!? Did you really have to engrave that image in my head?'

'That's for calling me a little kid, old man.'

'You're the one to talk! Future boy.'