#remind y'all who we're fuckin with

[the-writing-mobster]

I need to remind y'all that Frisk is a bad bitch...

[itgetzweird08]

Stuck.

Katsuki Bakugo x Gender Neutral!Reader Angst Hcs

A fic based on July by Noah Cyrus (I am so NOT sorry for this :)

Warnings: Nothing major, just mentions of drinking, implied cheating, and heavy language. Also general angst

A/N: I know a lot of y'all want the next part of Endevour's Secret Daughter and The Spark That Lit His Fuse. I'm working on it I swear, just got a little writer's block. But I promise I'll get it done soon! For now, enjoy this sob fest :))

I've been holding my breath

I've been counting to ten

Over something you said 

The stress of growing as a hero was heavy, of course, you knew, but recently Bakugo seemed to be taking it out on you. When there was a bad mission, he would come home with a hard slam of the door, sparing you nothing but a hard glare. He would push you off and away when you would offer comfort, and when you tried to suggest he take a breath, he raised his voice to you.

“Can you get fuckin lost? Hell, I wish you would stop being so fucking annoying!”

I've been holding back tears

While you're throwing back beers

I'm alone in bed

This wasn’t a once-off either, as now it seemed like he would snap every time you would look at him. You felt like you had to hold your breath every time you were around him. But now, it seemed like everything was only getting worse. At least for a while, he would still come home, but now there were nights where you laid in the cold bed alone for hours until he would come back smelling like sweat and beer... and perfume.

You know I, I'm afraid of change

Guess that's why we stay the same

You knew you could leave, you knew you should. But fuck- something in you just couldn’t handle the thought of losing him. You had been together for so long, you liked the consistency of your relationship. And you didn’t want to feel as if you were giving up. You never gave up. To you, this was all just a hard challenge that you would overcome eventually. This hard roadblock would pass…wouldn’t it?

So tell me to leave

I'll pack my bags, get on the road

If he told you to leave, you would. But you wouldn’t be able to just give up on your own, not while you still felt some semblance of hope that your relationship could survive this.

Find someone that loves you

Better than I do, darling, I know

You wouldn’t be mad if he did decide to leave. Maybe he was right, maybe you weren’t cut out to be the partner of the number two hero. You were quirkless, and went to school for art. You knew nothing about having a special ability or hero work for that matter. Maybe he needed someone who did understand. 

'Cause you remind me every day

I'm not enough, but I still stay 

“What the hell do you know? You’re quirkless, you’re nothing. You’ll never be able to understand what I’m going through.”

Feels like a lifetime

Just trying to get by while we're dying inside

Six months…you’ve been stuck like this with Bakugo for six months. Nothing has gotten better. The small spark of hope you had for the relationship was slowly fizzling out. Now every bit of this relationship felt like torture. And yet you didn’t go anywhere.

I've done a lot of things wrong

Loving you being one

But I can't move on

You knew there were probably plenty of people in this world for you. But none of them were Katsuki. Maybe falling for him was a mistake. Everyone had warned you whenever news got out that you were dating him. Even his own friends, while teasing, dropped subtle hints.

‘I’m surprised anyone could stand him’

‘I can’t believe he found someone he’s considered worthy’

‘Thanks for putting up with him, I know he can be..a lot’ 

No matter what they said, you didn’t listen. You could never regret loving Katsuki.

So tell me to leave

I'll pack my bags, get on the road

“You’re too much of a distraction. You’re only holding me back.”

“What are you saying, Kats?”

“...I’m done, Y/N. I need to focus on being number one, not on being your boyfriend.”

Find someone that loves you

Better than I do, darling, I know

‘Dynamite and Uravity, Japan’s new IT Couple’

'Cause you remind me every day

I'm not enough, but I still stay

[saltpepperbeard]

Poison into Positivity: A List of What I Liked in OFMD S2

Hello hello everyone! Things have been a little rough around here. Even away from the more heated takes, I've still seen a few "down in the dumps" murmurs. To which, I'm giving y'all big hugs, but also offering up some little bits of warmth! I wanted to share quite a few bullets of the things I enjoyed about this season. Maybe it'll serve as a reminder, or maybe it'll just serve as a chaotic, silly little read as per usual PFFF.

But I invite you to read along, and even add some of your own points should you feel inclined! Also, this might not even be my full list; these are just the ones that came to me quickly/off the top of my head. Still, let's dive on down like a fantastical, dazzling goldfish, shall we?

All the callbacks/parallels. My goodness. When I tell you I'm a SLUT for metaphors/parallels/callbacks/etc etc. Seeing so many things and being able to just *Leonardo Dicaprio pointing meme.* I know people might not share that same opinion because some might view it to be excessive, but I personally LOVED being able to point at my screen and be like "oH EYYYYYYY!!!" Maybe because it makes for such immaculate gifset/meta material <3 SJKJDLHSK

The costuming and makeup. WHEN THEY TALKED AT ECCC ABOUT EVERYONE GETTING HOTTER, THEY WERE NOT KIDDING LMAO. EVERYONE LOOKED SO, SO GOOD. and listen, i am on my knees begging for them to give ed with his hair up back to us. i need Her back,,,ALSO, SOMETHING SOMETHING COMPLICATED EMOTIONS TOWARDS STEDE'S LATTER HALF LOOK, BUT ALSO...GOD DAMN, MR. DARBY,,,,,,

Speaking of Mr. Darby, the acting in this season. The ACTTTINNNGG. Everyone acted their ASSES off. Everyone put their entire piratussies into this season. Though, I'm PARTICULARLY impressed with Taika and Rhys, because again with their "oh we're comedians lol so idk drama can be Difficult Difficult Lemon Difficult." MMMM I THINK THE FUCK NOT, MY GUYS LMAO??? They both did SO well with all the drama and painful moments. The acting in episodes 2, 3, 6, and 7 in particular like...God. GOD!!!

I loved so many characters in this season, and I'll of course have to give two individual shoutouts to my two favorite new ladies, but man. LET'S GO FRENCHIE!!! ALWAYS A DELIGHT!!! FANG/KEVIN MY ABSOLUTE SWEETHEART. JIM SERVING ABSOLUTE FUCKING GENDER THIS SEASON. OLU OLU DARLING OLU. PETE NEVER MISSING WITH HIS ONELINERS. LUCIUS BEING SO THEATRICAL AHDJKSDK LIKE NATHAN PLEASE YOU KILL ME. ROACH MAKING ME LAUGH OUT LOUD NUMEROUS TIMES AS HE DOES. WEE JOHN AND HIS KNITTING AND DRAG!!! AND THEN OF COURSE MY DEARLY BELOVEDS, ED AND STEDE. I JUST LOVE THEMMMMM!!! But okay okay okay-

Zheng my beloved. I just love this badass pirate queen with her sweet little pigtails and her IMMACULATE LINE DELIVERIES SDHJKSKL. A lot of my favorite deliveries from the entire season came from her quite honestly. Please see: "Girl, how ARE you?" and "Hiiiiiii. I KNOWWW it's been a day" and "I've killed mediocre men. I've killed exceptional men. But you're the worst kind: a mediocre man who thinks he's exceptional."

AND ARCHIE MY BELOVED. She kills me because I remember seeing like, those ~*~audition tape whispers~*~ WAY back in the day, and subsequently thinking she was going to be quite a different character. Only for this silly goofy bubbly energetic darling to pop up and snag my heart. HER deliveries kill me also, like when she goes "Like...STEDE Stede?" and the whole "I was IN the fuckin' snake!" also hhngngngngnershkfhslkds tattooed ladies Hot :(

Speaking of which, the comedy. THE DELIVERIES. THE WAY I LAUGHED OUT LOUD NUMEROUS TIMES THROUGHOUT, EVEN WITH THE DEEP UNDERCURRENT OF DRAMA/ANGST. The whole bit where Stede is in hysterics over his cursed coat is just hsjkdhsklds; it will NEVER not make me wheeze. And then, like I said, almost EVERYTHING Pete says this season kills me; another thing that will never not make me laugh is "a doggie...?" weird little pirate show with weird little humor my beloved

The ROMANCE??? I genuinely was going into the season with the expectation of getting maybe like, one or two Gentlebeard kisses. Imagine my shock and utter delight when we ended up with FOUR, AS WELL AS AN INTIMATE SCENE, THE LETTER SCENES, AND THE LOVE PROFESSIONS. Like, one of them dropping a legitimate "I love you" felt like an unrealistic expectation--the HIGHEST dream tier really. And then wouldn't you know it. And that doesn't even account for all the rest of the couples either! The murder wives having their chaotic little moments of fucked up affection??? LUCIUS AND PETE GETTING ENGAGED AND THEN MARRIED??? HELLO??????

The sets! I know people have pointed out that the world felt a bit simplified this time around, due to budget restraints and what have you. But I still loved what they did with the world even with the various constraints. The market in episode 6 is a PARTICULAR favorite of mine; it's just so lush and colorful. I also love what they did with The Revenge during episode 6 too!

Also, this might be an unpopular opinion, but I really actually liked that they filmed on location. First of all, love that the Kiwis got to be right at home in Aotearoa. Love that they have an even more special connection to the show now. But second of all, I just like when scenery is...actually THERE? It feels way more TANGIBLE. Don't get me wrong; that hugeass wraparound screen that they use to film a lot of sets is a technological marvel. But I'm a sucker for practical.

The deeper and more complex dives into character motivations/trauma. Like, homie lol...When I tell you episodes 6 and 7 utterly set my brain alight in the best way possible. I was CHUGGING through thoughts. You know those gifs where someone is walking around and ranting/passionately talking,,, yeah. Yeah. Maybe because a lot of it "struck a chord" with me indeed, but I love love LOVE getting brain food like that.

Speaking of brain food, in PARTICULAR, the deeper dives into Ed's self-loathing and into Stede's troubles with confidence and masculinity. A lot of Stede's choices were fueled by those two things, and it was SO friggin fun to catch all of them, put them in a jar, and shake them around. I've seen a lot of people fearing his actions in the latter half were out of character, but to me, I don't see it that way. I just see a man who has been so spurned, so left behind, and SO deprived, a man who is stuck thinking he has to be someone else to mean something. And I think that plays a lot into even the EARLIEST developments we saw in season 1, so it was just so intriguing to watch everything messily play out.

THE INNKEEPER. THE INNKEEPER MY BELOVED. SO much about that episode absolutely has my heart. All the different developments, the stakes, the pacing, and the payoff at the end. Not to mention that I had a FEELING that mysterious figure in the trailers was Hornigold, so it was so SO validating to see him pop up PFFF. And also, all those dream/gravy basket sequences were so so good too. I don't know if it's the chemistry between Taika and Mark, or the deeper symbolism, or the lines that have become vocal stims for me SJKDLS (please see: ooOOoooO eddie eddie eddie...you're laying some heavy shit on me, bro), but man. MAN.

And this one gets its own bullet because of course it does: the fucking mermaid scene. Like, are we kidding. ARE WE KIDDING. THE ROMANCE OF IT ALL? THE FANTASTICAL-NESS INDEED?? THE WAY IT WAS ALL FUCKING PRACTICAL AND RHYS SWAM DOWN TO TAIKA AS A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE GOLDFISH AND THEY HAD TO THROW HEART EYES AT EACH OTHER UNDERWATER??? WHAT THE FUCK!!! And don't even get me started on Kate Bush lol. This Woman's Work might easily be one of my favorite songs, if not my FAVORITE song from the season. And man. Man. The whole meaning behind Ed seeing Stede as this beautiful, sparkly being, and not some hypermasculine/extraordinary thing. He fell in love with Stede for who Stede really is. And so I ADORE that acknowledgement.

Speaking of songs, the MUSIC!!! Absolute bangers all throughout. And I loved how there seemed to be even more intermixed within the episodes. Like God... "These are the kids..." 🗣️ HELLO MY LOVE I HEARD A KISS FROM YOU 🦗🦟🦗🦟🦗🦟 . And all the beautiful classic piano pieces and NINA SIMONE AND JUST HSJKDHSFJKLHSKD????

Okay, I've always had and STILL have complicated thoughts and opinions on Izzy, but man, seeing him interact with the Revenge Crew was really something. Seeing Stede's influence come over the lot of them like a warm blanket, extending its welcoming and familial hands...It was just lovely. I love seeing our little sea family care for each other so much. They've probably all hurt so so much in different ways, so to see them all being a collective heart is just so nice.

Speaking of which, the queerness of it all, the queer celebration of it all. The way the whole crew is just...a representation of queer people finding each other, and subsequently finding love and family in each other. Like, when the whole world wants to cast you out, you pull each other in. When no one else wants you, you take refuge in each other. And just...the joy, beauty, and wonder that can be found in that.

And speaking of which x2, the overall care that was put into the entire thing, the effort that was put into the entire thing. I know Max fucked us over with the budget, which subsequently fucked things like the intricacy, the amount of characters, and especially the pacing. But, I don't know; I personally could still tell everyone involved was trying so so hard to deliver for us. Based on the little details, the little callbacks, and the little moments that felt so catered to us, it just seemed so...gifted to us. Not to mention of course, the way they so deliberately chose to end on a hopeful note in case we never get a third season. They care about us. They've always cherished our excitement and passion, so it just...idk; it feels so special to have a bit more of an intimate connection like that. I've never been involved with a piece of media that so avidly SEES its audience, and celebrates along with us. So, despite everything, despite any sort of troubles, despite any sort of lows, that's a big part of what has me clutching all of this so closely to my chest. And I really hope they can still see that love, because I want nothing more than for them to see this beautiful story through.

Also, getting to enjoy this with everyone. Getting to ride the wave from the beginning of filming, all the way through the finale. Getting to see all the excitement, all the theories, all the art, all the fanfiction, all the gif sets, all the meta, and everything in between. It has carried me through some nastiness in my personal life, and has subsequently served as a very welcomed distraction. It's been such a pleasure getting to delight in this new content with you all, and I hope we get to do so into the future. <3

[3xdni]

'*•.¸♡𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗'♡¸.•*'

NOT 100% PROOFREAD

Pairings: E!42 Miles x Black/Mixed Reader

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Heads up: Black-coded reader, swearing, kissing, high school age ranged, use of the 'n word, touchy miles, established relationships, toxic ex, neck holding, slight blood, slight violence

summary- you go to a party with your best friend post-breakup with your cheating boyfriend, only to see miles and end up 'thanking' him when he protects you from your ex after he presses you for ghosting him

You and your group of girls walked aimlessly down the halls of your school, chatting it up with your best friend who was rambling on about her new boyfriend. She went on and on about how fine he was and how he paid for everything she wanted.

"Girl, is this your man or your sugar daddy?" You snarked with a soft chuckle, lightly punching her arm.

"Oh god no," Y/B/N rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in disgust. " this my man for real, like we're getting married and everything!" She said smiling as you listened to the southern drawl roll off her tongue.

You and your friends couldn't stop yourselves from letting out a loud set of giggles as Y/B/N chanted throughout the halls about her delusions.

The way she talked about her new boyfriend reminded of the way you used to talk about your ex. So happy and oblivious to the asshole who you were hyping up. Always there for him when he was never there for you.

Once all of you made it to your respected lockers, Y/B/N suddenly came to a stop about her 'new husband' to give you a somewhat sad look.

"But anyway, how have you been since, ya know... the breakup?" You closed your locker with a sigh, planting your forehead against the cool metal. "I been aight I guess," you paused to look up at your best friend with an annoyed look. "but this nigga will not leave me the fuck alone!" Y/B/F let out a loud wheeze as you shut your eyes and dramatically wiped down your face with both hands.

"Ganke must still be tryna get back with you or sum?" You simply gave her a hard 'mhm' which she couldn't find more hilarious. "You know there's a party this saturday at Gwen's, you should come with me! We gon find you a new man, sis!" A couple of your other friends agreed with the idea of you going, just wanting you to have some fun.

You snickered at Y/B/N's remark. Giving it some thought, you wondered if you should make an appearance at this party. It had been awhile since you went to one and were actually able to mingle with who ever you wanted to.

Ever since you broke up with Ganke, you felt a since of new found freedom. Of course you loved and adored him when y'all were together, but you weren't stupid enough to stay with him after finding out he was texting other girls and trying to link with a mutual friend's girlfriend, miles. You rolled your eyes at the thought of him begging for you back now.

Solange chimed in from behind her locker to add that there were supposed to some many fine dudes there. Jacky gave you a firm nod to back up Solange's statement. "I bet if Miles was there you would say yes immediately." Your best friend teased and you just responded with the most lethal side eye you could muster. "Hey, don't look at me like that! You know Ian lyin'" She chuckled before finishing getting her bags completely out her locker.

Solange and Jackie were making a team effort to coax you into joining in on the party. They only wanted to see you happy, and all they knew was to dance and mingle their own problems away. They made multiple comments about how you're so young and 'We gotta enjoy it while it lasts'. Of course they wouldn't push you against your will, but a little convincing wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Girl it does not take that fuckin' long to think, come on please! We don't wanna go without you!" These poor girls were practically begging on their knees for you to attend this party with them. All you could do was look at Y/B/N with an amused smile on your face. Simply shaking your head in disbelief at your little group's excitement when you agreed to go.

‎・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Saturday rolled around and you sat as your best friend picked out what you thought was your best outfit.

You felt excitement bubbling in your stomach as continued putting on your last accessories and shiny lip gloss. The music that blasted throughout Y/B/N's room giving you a pregame effect sorta gave you a feeling of what tonight was gonna be like. You put on your favorite perfume and body lotion. Y/B/N squealed as she exclaimed how bad you were and quickly whipped out her phone to take pictures.

As your best friend held her phone up, a notification slide onto her phone.

• Solange👽💚hey... just found out ganke's at the party.. might wanna let y/n kno!!

Y/B/N quickly turned to look at you after the disappointing news. You sighed and gave her a half assed smile. "It's cool, Ian trippin and Ian finna let it bother me either." you shrugged you shoulders which released tension from Y/B/N's own shoulders.

You sat in the back seat of the car on the way to the party. Staring through the windshield, lost in thought. 'What if Ganke was there?' multiple thoughts like this flooded into your head. 'What if he asks why haven't I been talking to him? What do I do if he tries to hurt me-' Your thoughts were immediately cut short by Jacky's pink acrylics wrapping around your hand. "Hey, it's gonna be okay, girl! We wouldn't tell you to come if we knew you wouldn't have a good time." She gave you a kind smile and you gave her the same.

You were hyped up the whole way over to the party, your best friend saying things like 'Girl you look good as fuck!' or 'You gon be taking everybody nigga'. However, when you were finally there you started to feel a little nervous. It had been a while since you were in the party scene but you knew you'd feel better once inside.

You walked through the big, glass door's of Gwen's home and it already reeked of underage drinking with an overpowering amount of horny teens. After giving your friends the green light to go dance and have some fun, you gravitated towards the kitchen. It was only slightly less crowded than the rest of the busy house.

You felt a hand grab your shoulder and felt Y/B/N yell in your ear over the loud music that she was gonna go look for her man, but she'd be back. You laughed and told her don't worry about it and you understood. After she ran of with her little boyfriend, you smelled a very familiar scent. You looked around the kitchen island you were currently leaning on and your eyes landed on you and Ganke's mutual friend, miles.

He was nose deep in his phone, ignoring the girls that would come up to him and quickly shooting down any interactions with his bluntness. You chuckled as you watched the failed attempts of even the prettiest girls in your school try to talk to miles. Making your way over to him, you hopped on the part of the counter right beside his arm.

You couldn't deny the attraction you felt for Miles, even when you were with your ex, but you could never let it be known to anyone. You had a man and he had a girl, you both were off limits. Although, Ganke couldn't understand that much. Y/B/N would always poke fun at the fact that you picked the wrong friend throughout your relationship, and you couldn't help but feel she was right.

When Miles looked up at you, you noticed how close you two actually were. Taking in how handsome he was, looking at his lashes, the diamond studded ears, his signature braids, gold chain dangling on his chest, and those pretty lips that always caught your attention, you became lost in thought.

"Yo, Y/N what's good ma?" Miles cocked his head at you with slightly surprised face. He also seemed to notice the close proximity of you two, however not moving at all. Miles always felt that there was tension between the two of you. His girlfriend wasn't shit but his mom didn't know that and liked her, so he kept her around. That was done though, so Mr.Morales started making moves. He been plotting on you for a little minute now anyway.

You gave Miles and small smile and leaned back on your palms. "Shit, I been good, how you been though? I seen you and ole girl broke up." You asked giving Miles a knowing look. He gave you an amused 'mhm' and watched as your body stretched atop the counter, paying close attention on how your thighs seamed to squish against the cold marble. Miles looked you up and down while licking his dry lips.

"Nah man, we not together no more, but what about you and yo nigga? Thought y'all was cute and shit." Miles shrugged his shoulders, obviously returning your teasing. You rolled your eyes at the comment, not really caring about the subject anymore. All that mattered was that you were single, and he was single.

"So whachu doin' here? This doesn't really seem like your scene." You asked Miles while taking a sip of the drink you had just poured. He watched intently as your lips wrapped around the side of the cup and drank from it.

"A couple of friends wanted me to come, Ian really studyin' this party though." Miles responded, taking large gulps of his own drink.

You watched Miles' adam's apple bob up and down as he drank the alcohol, causing you to shift your focus and forget that you needed to project your voice. When you tried to tell Miles that it was the same for you, you spoke in a low, quiet voice.

He looked at you for a second, trying to put together your words but ultimately failed. The boy moved increasingly close to your neck and you shivered as you felt his breath fan against your ear.

"Que dijiste bebe? I can't hear you, speak up." You could only hope that Miles wasn't aware of the effect he had on you. He just couldn't hear you over the music and loud voices, that was all. Right?

You tried to play it off with a simple 'My bad' and repeated yourself louder this time. Miles smiled at you as he backed up just a little bit so you were face to face.

Even then, Miles couldn't help himself from continuously stealing looks at your outfit. You seem to just have popped out after Ganke fucked his girl. He started paying close attention to your lips, wondering why they looked so soft, why they just looked so..good?

You and miles moved well on into good conversation, catching up on each other, a couple of flirty remarks, and the inconsistent brushing of hands against thighs, hands touching hair, and just enjoying being in each other's presence. All was well until an unwanted but familiar face came into your side vision. You continued your conversation now looking at Ganke making his way over to the two of you.

You gave an exhausted sigh and dramatic eye roll as the one person you wouldn't let ruin your night apparently make it his mission to do just that.

"Yo, What's up Miles, Y/N?" He yelled loudly over the music, attempting to dap Miles up which he ignored. Ganke put up a friendly front but you could tell he had alternative motives. You just sat and stared at the boy while Miles replied with a dry 'Yo'.

"So this what we doin now, Y/N" Ganke looked at you with a stank face, motioning to you and Miles. Mood quickly switching just as you thought would happen. "Youn wanna answer my text or calls but you can come to parties with my homeboys now?" Your ex threw his free arm up in the arm in exasperation while his other one held his drink. "My mans, you was the one that cheated, not me? Ian even tryna talk about this right now, I'm havin' fun." You explained motioning to Miles which he returned with a sly smile.

"Oh so you having fun fuckin' on my homeboys?!" Ganke started to get louder, gaining more attention from the now forming crowd. "We not homeboys my nigga, you fucked that shit all the way up for you." Miles corrected with a deadpanned face.

Ganke was obviously drunk because there was noway anybody in there right mind that would come up to you like this. You weren't necessarily scary but people knew not to disrespect you. When he attempted come stumble closer to you, Miles quickly straightened up and put himself between the two of you. Leaning back on your knees while giving him a warning.

"Aye man you need to chill out with allat, you doing way too much." You felt as if you could handle the situation yourself, but it made your attraction towards Miles grow to see him so protective. "Nah bruh, youn tell me what to do, that's my bitch-" And as soon as he let the word slip, Miles damn near knocked his tooth out.

Ganke fell to the floor with a dazed look and blood dripping from his mouth. Miles was raised by his mama, he knew not to tolerate disrespect towards women. Audible gasps and a collective 'Damn!' was heard around the kitchen.

You looked into the crowd and spotted a drunk Solange and sober Jacky rushing to the front of it. Solange let out a load, obnoxious laugh. "You just got knocked the fuck out!" Jacky laughed uncontrollably trying to steady her friend.

Your 'knight in shining armor' turned to you after spitting on the already hurt kid. He walked over to the counter and started to gather his belongings.

"Man fuck this shit, you tryna get outta here." The tall boy patted his pockets for his keys and pointed a thumb towards the door. "Yeah let's go." You quickly hopped off the counter to walk with Miles, barely sparing a glance at Ganke.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

10 times outta 9 I know your lyin' but 9 times outta 10 I know your tryin' to be there

You rode down the highway, windows down and 'Love Drought' by Beyoncé playing on the radio. You were lost in your thoughts about the previous events until you felt a large hand lay across your thigh. The action felt kinda familiar. Looking from out the window, to the hand, and then at Miles you couldn't help but smile and blush a bit.

You were a bit confused as to how he manage to act like he didn't just almost knock someone out. That's not to say you didn't mind the extra attention. Feeling his grip on your thigh just made your stomach turn in the right way. You wanted to talk but there was so much to say and nothing to say at the same time.

Before you could even mutter a word however, Miles broke the air. "So what's up with him, man? Why he trippin' on you so hard, ma?" His eyes stayed on the road but you knew you had his full attention. He was a somewhat responsible driver after all.

"He just got an attitude 'cuz I won't talk to him no more. Ian tryna deal with allat for real." Shrugging your shoulders, you gave Miles a side glance. Now that it was just the two of you, you couldn't help but see how good he looked in his tight black T-shirt, khaki cargo pants, and fresh pair of jays. His jewelry shined in the street lights. He just looked so damn good right now, you could practically feel yourself drooling.

"You sum special, ya know?"

"Hm? Whachu mean?"

"Nah Im just sayin, Ion go around bussin folks in they shit like that for random girls." Miles smiled with his eyes still on the road before him. You just adored the way he was showcasing his dimples off to you right now.

"But you would do it for me though." You giggled at the end of your sentence, appreciating the compliment.

"Anything for you, mi corazón " Although you knew it was a bit of an exaggeration, as this was only the beginning of y'all's relationship, you still felt comfort by his words.

Feelings grew between you two as you watched each other silently over the years. He fell in love with every little thing you did, as so did you with him. You noticed every tiny quirk and habit he had, and just thought he was so fine. It was crazy to everyone that you two didn't start dating each other instead of your ex's.

You felt his hand brush farther into you skirt and squeeze a little harder, all you could do was sigh into his touch. Miles let a deep chuckle slip from his lips and you could feel your face heat up. "Ni siquiera puedo creer que saliste con su lamentable trasero, you know you could do better right, mamas?" You squeezed your thighs slightly at the nick name, which Miles very much noticed.

Of course you didn't want to give in to him just yet, so you beat around the bush. "Yeah I guess, I mean Ion really talk to anybody though. Ian really met a lot of real niggas." You faked oblivion to Miles obvious attempt to get at you.

Suddenly turning down a back road, and driving into an empty, grass area atop a hill, Miles turned to look at you. "That's 'cuz you ain't been talkin' to me, my heart." His accent rolled off his tongue and into your heart. He couldn't help but stare into your pretty eyes, and glance at your pretty, glossed lips. They looked so plump and full, all he wanted was a little taste.

Miles grabbed you by top of your neck softly, causing you to let out a breathy 'Miles'. He couldn't help himself. You just looked so gorgeous in your little outfit tonight, he was grateful to god that he sent an angel like you to him tonight. The two of you tilted your heads in unison closing the gap between you.

Your gloss smeared across Miles' lips as he pressed into yours roughly. When he pulled you closer by your neck, you had no choose but to place a hand on his thigh to help you balance yourself. This caused him to groan which gave you an opportunity you had to take. You snaked your tongue into Miles' sweet mouth, moaning into the kiss as his grip on your neck tightens.

Miles started moving his free hand down your back and onto the cusp of your ass, giving it a firm slap. He broke away from your lips to move his face into the parts of your neck uncovered by his large, rough hand. After leaving multiple kisses, licks, and hickies on your neck, he pulled you over the middle console and onto his lap.

Miles rubbed your ass through your mini skirt, like he was touch starved. His lips returned to yours as he muttered the words "Let me treat you right, baby. Fuck these other niggas."

You just look this boy deeply in his eyes, trying not to fall for him even harder in that moment. You leaned down to plant a kiss on Miles' lips but he held you in place by your neck. "You gon' gimme an answer, pretty girl? Ian solo tratando de joderte, te necesito mala, mi hermosa.." Miles trailed off seemingly entranced by you.

You swear you could die with all the pet names he was giving you. "You gotta promise though, we gotta keep it together, baby"

"Oh we gon stay together, I promise."

[docholligay]

When you hear an accent/dialect/we're not going to get into that debate here that sounds 'odd' to your ear, think about that! Not even in a "Wow, I hate that" way, or a "I need to examine my classism/racism/etc way I am a bad person way, but in a secret third way called, "curiosity and openness to experience"

I was EXTREMELY EXTREMELY FORTUNATE to have a required class in college called "History of the English Language" which was one of the 'weeder classes' for the English majors at my school. It was very very difficult, but the man who taught it had an INSANE passion for English. He LOVED IT, he would talk about it all goddamn day, and it taught me so much about how and why things get changed and said the way they do, and it made me so CURIOUS about why something is unusual or fun for my brain to listen to.

So now, anytime I hear someone pronounce something or verbalize something in a way I think of as "odd" I get so excited and curious*. What is it I haven't heard before? Sometimes my tongue will move around my mouth trying to figure out how they make that sound (I am REAL bad at this. Accents are in no no no way my forte, which is annoying because I'm very good at HEARING them and hearing the differences between them, I just can't DO it) because it is so interesting and cool all the different ways one fucking language has been DONE over so many years.

Anyway I so far off track I am no longer a train, but looking at dialects as you might look at an interesting bug instead of like a pop song on the radio or a sign font is a really good way to start opening your mind to language as something other than a value marker. And that doesn't HAVE to be another way of whipping yourself for being a piece of shit--I assume you have plenty of reasons--but a way of going, "Oh, something unexpected!"

*Also not to attempt to introduce nuance on the 'no nuance we die like men' website, but I think there is a big difference between loving teasing and mockery/cruelty. I don't actually mind if friends, especially ones with VASTLY different ways of speaking, imitate my accent I think it's fuckin funny as hell! Jetty has the WORST rural western accent on the planet, and I love to make fun of whatever the fuck she's got going on there, but it is FUN and there is a sense of LOVE that comes with it. And it's not even a "well yeah, Holligay, when you've known someone for a long time" No no, I once sat in a shitty pub on the east end, now closed (rip) and me and my mom ending up striking up a conversation with two old-school cockney guys, and as soon as he tried to say "Montana" the way I did, the race was ON, and it was FUNNY, and we all laughed and had a good time, it is about attitude.

And I know I'm gonna get something about "well how do you KNOW and that is why i turned off reblogs but come on y'all, 9 times out of 10 you can tell when something is done with deep affection or camaraderie or because even just something feels cool in your mouth it's fun to try. I can't do 87% of the linguistic features I think FUCK SEVERELY (intrusive R, the way a word that genuinely does not start with the letter h has a different sound than a word when the h is uptaken (this has a fucking word and I cannot find it it's making me nuts)) but I LOVE them.

Quick quiz to help though: Are you affecting this accent to in some way sound stupid/ridiculous? We can go back and forth about that a little: one of my buddies says "well shiiiiit" exactly the way I do, for funsies, but it just...feels neat. What I'm saying is you have to use some discernment here and I know we are all allergic to that but give it a shot/go/whatever the hell Australians say for this.

Post script: All of this reminds me also about how I studied the phonemes and linguistics of English with intense fervor in college, and got REAL COCKY, and then in the Orkneys had my very first ever, in life, "We are both speaking English but damn" moment. Normally I am The One for this. I am unruffled. My wife gets confused by the word takeaway (she is smart I swear) but I'm rock-solid. Until. Hubris.

This guy is rollin on up in his van, which is the 'bus system' on Rapness, and it's cute as hell as a system, but I ask him something stupid about the timetable, and he answers me in what I can only describe as a Nordic-flavored Scottish accent. It is actually really remarkable and I went on a weird deep dive of the Orkneys afterward because I had never heard anything like it but I digress. I DID NOT GET A FUCKING WORD. And so, because I panic, I do what I always do when I feel flustered or emotional or angry: I sound like Yosemite fucking Sam. So now he can't understand what I am asking him!

Good news is, we both give a little bit of a laugh, I go, 'Let's try that again" and I do manage to exchange that this van picks up outside of the Pierowall hotel in time for the ferry.

[luminalunii97]

What we, Iranians mean by "help iran" and what we don't

Do we want military intervention? Absolutely not. If USA is smart enough they wouldn't even think of that as an option. We've defended our lands in an unfair war once, we'll do it again. There's a patriot mindset in iranian culture, that's why no foreign interference or colonizing attempt has lasted here. Plus west is currently in a financial crisis, I don't think they have money to fund a war. But you know who's doing that? Aiding islamic republic with tropes and equipment? islamic republic supporters in the region.

Do we want to be taken advantage of? Robbed? Being denied our wealth and resources by foreign powers? No, but do you think only west can do that? Have you ever heard about Russia and China being best pals with islamic republic? You don't think that's "friendship", do you? What do you think this is?

(if you're interested to know more, search 25 year long iran-china agreement)

Don't think we're only fighting islamic Republic. But one economic giant and one warmongering power are standing behind islamic republic! Eastern powers are just as big and bad as western ones.

What do we want and need? We need to to be on the news so that the non-iranians would know what's going on here. People, citizens and civilians have the power to push and hold back their governments if public opinion is set.

How would that help? Iran's regime holds back the massacre when the world is watching, it's been their way, they mass murder us in darkness. Western politicians will be forced to break the silence. Our regime wouldn't be able to convince west to lift the sanctions (yes, sanctions are good. It puts our regime under pressure. Without sanctions islamic republic would have been rich enough to occupy the entirety of the middle east and establish Chinese-style oppression in iran. People would still be poor.)

What are our demands from western politicians and governments? One, don't help our regime in any capacity. Don't sell them weapons, don't send them money, don't strike contracts with them, Don't do any sort of business with them. Believe it or not west have done these before. Two, don't give them credibility. We Iranians are shouting and crying out that this regime doesn't have legitimacy, that we don't know them as our representatives. By inviting them to international meetings, you're offending our people. Islamic Republic having a sit in women's rights councils at the same time they're killing women for wanting their basic rights is a fuckin insult to us people.

There are international organizations out there that exist to support and help humanity, they don't actually do it but they exist so we should force them to do their jobs. There are international unions that can put our regime at disadvantage by simply not negotiating or working with them.

In 2009, Obama helped Iran's regime "indirectly" to suppress protesters by releasing part of iran's blocked money. That is iranian people's money, by giving them to our government not only it won't help people, but it will also be used against us.

So, help iran by not helping islamic republic.

I also want to remind y'all that islamic republic has a history of meddling with other countries' businesses. The most known one is their direct involvement in killing Syrian protesters. They also do terroristic attacks on whoever puts their reign in danger, here are some examples:

When I say islamic republic is not just dangerous for iran I mean this. And when I say international action I'm not only talking about USA.

PS, I forgot to mention iran is currently commiting international crimes such as mass executing protesters (crimes against humanity), kill rape and torture teenagers (crimes against children) and use ambulances and firefighting vehicles to arrest people or move anti riot forces and weapons (war crimes). Therefore it's international organizations business!

[dee-in-the-box]

so. thought a little too hard about my headcanons for Dsaf 3. and now i'm a bit sad. so now y'all get some!

Jack listening to Henry's tapes and getting about...five more reasons to want to tear that man to shreds. at lest three of them involved Dave. the other two involve Dee and himself.

Dee first coming out of her box in The Flipside looking like the Puppet, but then shifting into looking like herself again when she sees Jack. and then shifting into the Puppet again when the fight starts. just. my Dee shapeshifting headcanon <3 (basically, after she died, Dee could shift her ghostly appearance into being either the Puppet or a ghostly version of herself)

Jack looking at Blackjack and just seeing a younger version of himself, frozen in time. this young man in his early twenties, his whole life ahead of him, who had all of that ripped away from him cruelly. his sister. his brother. himself. all by the same man. reduced to a snarling ball of rage, who wants nothing more than to rip Henry to shreds where he stands. the only reason he hasn't done so is because he's been convinced that doing so won't truly set him free. when Fredbear told Jack that, despite the souls desiring vengeance, killing their killer would not set them free, Blackjack took that to mean that it wouldn't set him free either. he's been stewing in his rage and grief for decades, neither feeling ever subsiding in that time. if anything, his rage has only increased. he lost everything because of Henry. why wouldn't he be angry? and so, if everyone else must move on, and leave him there to guard Henry and make sure he doesn't cause any problems, alone, then he will.

Jack finally helping to set him free, looking his younger self in the eyes and saying maybe that means that killing Henry is the one thing that will set him free. and even if it isn't...well, he needs to be dealt with, anyway. what if he gets out and causes problems again? just...Jack looking at Blackjack and feeling both like he's looking at a window into the past, yet also like he's looking at a different person entirely. because he and Blackjack are separate people, technically. but it's also him looking at himself.

Jack holding Dave's hand as they confront Henry, and squeezing it a little bit reassuringly. Dave tightening his grip as he gets more stressed.

Peter's death in the Henry fight being the thing that makes Jack say that their anger pushes them harder, and Dee's death leading to the line "We're gonna fuckin' FLAY you alive, Henry!" from Jack...like. just imagine how enraged he probably sounded, seeing Dee go down again. do you think it reminded him of the day she died? the day he went back to the diner to find her and bring her home, only for him to keep calling out for her and looking for her as the horror dawned on him that he couldn't find her? do you think that's what was running through his mind?

Jack and Dave reaching the end, and jack admitting that he can't go with them. Blackjack interjecting that...there is something they can try. no guarantee that it'll work, but it's worth a shot. Blackjack can try to fuse back together with him; not necessarily the same thing as shoving someone's soul back into their body, which is a big no no, apparently, but maybe a piece of him will break off, and it'll become Jack's soul. maybe them fusing will trick the universe into thinking Jack has a soul. who knows, but hopefully it'll work. and it does. Jack, by some miracle, gets his own soul out of this in a way that'll allow Blackjack to still exist. he also gets Free Afterlife Top Surgery™, because at this point he deserves it. he's been through so much shit.

at the end of the fire, Jack just looks at Dave and Blackjack and says "Come on, guys. Let's go home."

i just. aaaaaaAAAAAAAAA-

also, some Afterlife headcanons for y'all:

Peter: "Jackie, with all due respect, you have the weirdest taste in men." Jack just hanging out with Dave in the corner: "Peter, wtf-"

Steven just immediately laid down on the floor of the Afterlife and slept for a while. he was. So Fucking Tired.

Jack: "Okay, therapy circle time-" Dave: "Absolutely not, we don't have time to unpack all that." Jack: "Dave, we have nothing BUT time to unpack all of that-"

Peter and Caroline reunion <3

[alpimerealmsystem]

Your daily reminder, no one knows you like you do and only you know who and what the fuck you are, want to be and was, ok? Don't let others tell you otherwise.

Quick rant because this is invading my mind today, when I told our mom we're a system she said she considered me a demon and a persecutor a demon. She called me, the host for an entire year, a demon. And guess what! Two days ago she said we're doing so much better, and guess who was fronting? Yeah that's right, me. Don't fuckin listen to what others say about you y'all

[charmanderxerneas]

(going to be tagging this as ruin spoilers but please dont comment any spoilers because we're not actually done with all the game. We've gotten 2/3 endings and are working towards the secret ending where you have to find hidden cameras while also replaying and seeking out the secrets we missed. This is seriously just insane ramblings aimed at no one i just need to get my thoughts out and suggest u scroll past.)

I seriously like. Am struggling to figure out the whole plot of ruin in an analytical story timeline sense. No i do not read or care about fan theories, i interpret the game and the lore by playing it and looking at all the clues myself thank you very much, so my interpretation of the lore is. different from most fans (you have to consider: very autistic, fnaf a Huge special interest for me. So when i analyze lore, i analyze as much as i can, every single secret. And i feel like a lot of people Miss main lore secret plot points. Im not trying to be a contraian, id love for the fans to have good theories. But like 70% of the time they dont. Or theyre dumb lil kids who blindly listens to mat pat)

my interpretation of sb is different from most fans and theories (mostly because I actually take help wanted and ar into account and can like. Use my brain to understand the differences between the vanessas (there are two. The murderer vanny, who we play as in help wanted, is referred to in ar, and is the one in the therapist tapes) and vanessa the nightguard, who's COMPLETELY unrelated and just an innocent nightguard who happens to have the same name and face as vanessa murderer (though it is also possible to me that like. Murderer vanessa chose to try to look more like nightguard vanessa in an attempt to shift the blame of her crimes, but we dont know this for sure.)and i dont think the therapist tapes are two different people because thats STUPID and it obviously is murderer vanessa (people just. Cannot possibly understand that a person being possessed by an entirely different entity might have changes in her prrsonality. Or that a person with anxiety might have something similar to selective mutism or at the VERY least: troubles speaking because of said murderer in her brain)

ANYWAYS THATS A HUGE ASS TANGENT. MY MAIN THOUGHTS AS OF PLAYING RUIN RN (Please dont spoil things for me im not completely done) is that mainly: i dont know who is speaking to us or who mimic is.

There may be two different people communicating with us with the vanni network (as evidenced by helpi changing eye colors and how like. Some of the motives seem conflicting?) Initially i was like "oh its glitchtrap or williams spirit or something." But that doesnt make any sense because glitchtrap gets Trapped and is worked against.

Even tho that was my first thought: i dont think mimic is burntrap, or william, or glitchtrap. But i dont know what it is, because there are no other obvious characters that it could be in mind (tho since its michaels old fnaf 6 restaurant theyre in, and we saw the blob down there, god knows it could be any number of old ass animatronics or spirits)

Another very fuckin obvious thought is: hey where the fuck is vanny. With the whole mask mechanic, the plot revolving around glitchtrap, ect, you THINK we'd see her st least once. And though she has a cameo in the bad ending which is clearly a vision/fantasy/trick, she doesnt actually appear. The INSTANT That we started this game i speculated: is she talking through helpi? The yellow eyes reminded me of an early sb teaser artwork where we see a close up of a vanessas face with striking, yellow eyes, and i was never sure the significance of that... But i dont think its related at all, as mimic seems to be the one speaking when helpi has yellow eyes. Is mimic related to vanny somehow? I wouldnt assume so.

Whats weird about vanny not being there is it makes it seem like shes not carrying out glitchtraps bidding, which is odd. Dont y'all come at me with that "Gregory helped her!" Crap, the burntrap ending is the canon ending so that never happened. It makes sense for her to be against him (shes never really been on her side, shes the RELUCTANT follower. She explicitly does not want to do any of the horrible shit, but shes beinf forved to) but i just. Gahh i cant figure it out

I WILL figure it out just you wait. I will figure out what my interpretation of the lore as so good as soon as I finish the game just you wait

[courtzlou07]

Defending you

Warnings: violence

pope Sarah kie and I were waiting in the Twinkie for jj and John b to come out of Barrys when we heard them yelling.

"All right, so we're looking at four grand each for reparations for putting us through that bullshit. Sorry about that, y'all." jj says while looking through a bag of money that looks to have about 25k in it

"So that's what we're doing now? We're robbing drug dealers?" kie states with a look of shock on her face similar to my own expression.

"This Barry guy's gonna find out and he's gonna come after us." Sarah yells obviously scared of what could happen.

"Yes, he will. This is not the time to start wilin' out." pope starts to yell at jj

"How'd you like havin' a gun pulled on you?" jj turns to look at John b then looks around at the group and locks eyes with me, all I can do is look at my feet.

"Relax." John b attempts to cool him down

"He had it right here on you, bro. Look." jj places his hand to were Barry had the shotgun to John bs temple not to long ago reminding us of why we were here at all

"We've gotta go get the gold, okay? Just give me that shit. We're putting it back." John b snatches the bag from jjs hands. jj shoves John b up against the van with his hands at his neck.

" jj calm down" I yell trying to get him to let go of John b

"Do you feel like a tough guy? Huh? What are you gonna do when he comes for us?" the boys stare right at each other John b with a almost no emotion on his face but jj looked like he was about to explode

"We punch him in the throat." jj states through gritted teeth

"Yeah, good fuckin' idea, JJ."

"I'm not putting it back." jj lets go of John b and climbs in the van with the money.

"You guys getting in or what?" we all look at each other in silence I wanted to get in and try to convince him to put money back but my feet were stuck to the ground.

"What?" he climbs out the van standing in front of all of us

[John b] "We're sick of your shit."

[JJ] "Oh, my shit?"

[John b] "Yeah. Yeah. Your shit. Yes."

[kie] "Your pulling guns on people shit."

[Pope] "You acting like a maniac... "

[JJ] "Okay, Pope, I took the fall for you, man! ...Know how much I owe because of you?"

[ pope] "I'm gonna pay you back, and I didn't ask you to do that!"

[JJ] "I just did!, Pay it back , Right here, right now, by myself."

A silence fell over the group

[JJ] "You know what? That's exactly what I'm gonna do. Go off by myself."

[John b ] "JJ... Hey, wait, man."

[y/n ] "Jay come back please"

[Sarah] Just let him go.

———————————————————

Some time later we still hadn't heard from JJ and we all were getting kinda worried about him

[y/n] " we have to go look for him, he could be in trouble"

[John B] "Look, he'll come around, all right? It's... He's doing a JJ thing."

[kie] "You think he'll go home?"

[pope] "There's about a zero percent chance that JJ goes home."

" but what if he did go home, what if his dad did something to him?" i couldn't believe the others care so little for JJ after everything he's done for the group.

[Pope sighs] "Okay. It's too dangerous to pawn this thing off piecemeal....So our best bet is to go down there and get the rest of it. Bring it all up at once. Put it in... in a safe or a vault or something, I... I don't know. Just until we can find someone who won't rip us off. I can figure it out tonight, get it done, and we can be out there tomorrow morning."

I wasnt paying any attention to anything they were saying all I could think about was JJ. but what one of them said got my attention "And at least JJ will probably have washed up by then.

all I could do was get up from the table and whisper under my breath " it could be to late by then" and Ieft to go find JJ.

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

I walk up to the front of JJs house and go to knock on the door when I realise it was already open  i made my way inside the small house that smelt heavily of alcohol and weed, as I walk in further I here JJ and Luke fighting on the porch.

[Luke]"You got somethin' to say? After everything you done? You wanna get into it?.......I didn't think so."

"Man, people keep wastin' my time.I gotta fix this motor."

as I watch through the door I see JJ go for the bag of cash and Luke knock him to the ground 

"Boy, you stay down there." Luke yelles in his sons bloody face 

JJ tries to get up and fight back but fails as Luke had the upper hand.

"GET OFF OF HIM" I run through the door and jump on Lukes back causing him to stop hitting JJ but turn all his anger onto me.

"who are you? little bitch , you his slut or something" Luke spits in my face as he grabs hold of my neck and pushes my up against the wall of the house.just as the world around me starts to go dark I feel his hands leave my neck.

"You wanna steal from me?" I can faintly hear JJ in the background 

"You gave me nothing! You gave me nothing but a shitty life! All you ever did was try and scare me! Well, guess what, Dad?  I ain't scared of you anymore" I see JJ hold a wrench above his fathers head ready to hit him.

"JJ" I say softly because of the pain on my neck 

"but if you ever go near y/n again or me I swear to god dad I will end you myself, you got that?" he drops the wrench and get up off his dad still with tears in his eyes and his mouth all bloody. he makes his way over to me as I do the same making my way towards him.

"WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR, HE COULD OF KILLED YOU" JJ screams in my faces obviously scared and worried but it still shocked me.

"I was trying to help you...I couldn't just watch him hurt you." I say with a very serious voice but not yelling at knowing it would only make thing worse.

he looks into my eyes holding ack the trees that were trying to spill over

"but he hurt you ... I can take It im used to it, but he hurt you" he holds my face in his hands tears now running down both our cheeks. the hand print left on my neck but Luke was getting darker but the minute but I didn't care all I cared about was JJ.

"I will always defend you JJ, you mean the world to me and  to know that you have to go through that hurts me more then anything.  I love you jay" he looks deep into my eyes tears still streaming and blood covering his shirt his face goes soft as he leans in towards me and kisses my lips softly 

"I love you to , but dont ever do that again its my job o protect you not the other way around ok?"

"no promises"

[euclydya]

i'm doing alright, we just got lost a nail at work and dr. crane is a madman who just wanted us to?? continue work as usual? so i dipped. i do not have his level of pain tolerance. y'all's last song recommendations were really good; i ended up downloading every single one.

today i am recommending a bunch of shauna dean cokeland's music bc she is releasing a new song on spotify at midnight!

my recommendations are: this song saved my life by sdc for billy, moving in place (the song she is releasing this song tonight!) by sdc for eddie, electric blue by sdc for steve, reflections on the screen by superorganism for your jonathan, and "listen to your heart" "no." by cheekface for will. i hope he is doing alright over there.

dr. crane also wants poe to listen to truth is in the dirt by karen elson

Jesus christ that sounds painful what the fuck ausixiaks

We're glad y'all are okay though!! Those are all super great songs too, we don't fuck with TikTok but DAMN are there a lotta good musicians on there apparently omg

Our recs!:

Howard - Cake Bake Betty

Very,,, Haunting, I guess is the right word? We don't listen to her much at all but I Love the sounds and vibes of her music so far!! -Steve

The Mind Electric - Miracle Musical

ok now we're diving into the Important Songs™ JDJDIDKDKF

I suggest listening to this on YouTube cuz the first like 2 minutes is in reverse and it is. Cool but annoying to listen to. But anyways!! This song is. Super important to me! For some fucking reason! Cannot explain How Or Why but I. Love It. Especially this mashup that has like Every existing version of the song in it HFJFKF -Eddie

Tumbleweed - Puscifer

When we need to ground ourselves, this is one of our go-to songs,, It's also one of Those Songs™ in our library that has a lot of meaning/symbolism to a lot of people in our system, but for Billy and I specifically it's just... a good reminder to keep fuckin going tbh. -Groves (Billy's asleep rn lmao. She's fine just tired)

Good Morning, Captain - Slint

I don't,, know how this ended up on my playlist? I don't remember Listening to it before today actually lmao but looking through collective memories I can see Why it's on there, the ending lyrics are a punch to the gut honestly they're just so. Raw And Emotional. As are the rest of the lyrics, but those last few at the end of the song,,,, damn. -Jonathan

Daydreaming - Radiohead

I am doing just good I tthink! I'm getting used to. Being a person again and! talking! and! being! a person! :D /genuine

and ummm our Jonathan isn't letting me suggest the song I had in mind because it's "disturbing sounding" and "fucking unsettling" and he's like "what the fuck?? are you ok????" and i Am I just like songs that sound horrifying apparently! HDHDDHD

This is a good alternative though !! very very soft and quiet and feels like a soft blanket, when I make my playlist I'm putting this one on it ASAP (along with the song you recommended for me too!! I love it thank you!!) -Will

(His original choice was fucking. It's In My Blood by Coil, if you're curious. It's just,, 4 minutes of ambient noise and weird screeching with barely any lyrics it is So Goddamn Unsettling to like Everyone in the system, god fhfjdjd

Poe really likes the song Dr. Crane suggested for her too btw!! Her suggestion is Grace For Sale by Terrance Zdunich! -Jonathan)

[carmenized-onions]

Just Dropped. | Missing Invoice

logline; It's still fucking Friday. Half past five, maybe?

[!!!] series history, this is the eleventh; We're jumping RIGHT back in babe, feel free to re-review chapter ten to remember everything lmao.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to.

portion; 8.2k Thank fucking god this got split off from the last.

possible allergies; hurt,,,,, some comfort? You'll see, idk. No spoils. Terrible self-image, a lot of talk of Mikey's death and blame about it. Just a lot of mean and hurtful words to oneself and others.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (i don't believe there's any pronouns but feminine titles are used? you'll see) Also, if I'm being honest, this chapter is not about Carmen, lmao. but when are they, really?

you ever notice that the other shoe chapter doesn't have a period? lol pranked you!! genuinely both very interested and very nervous to hear y'alls thoughts on this one,,, i hope you like it,,,, if you don't,,,, let me down so gently, sweetpea

Same team. You say to Marcus.

It’s an idiom you coined, long ago. It’s a simple phrase you and your friends started to exchange whenever heads got hot, and you had to remind each other that at the end of the day, you’re fighting for the same thing. To get through the end of the day, together. You’re on the same team.

It’s not interchangeable with ‘we good?’ It means so much more than that. Fights happen, they do. You know that better than anyone, but it’s important to remind each other what you’re fighting for. Same team, you say to Marcus, after reciting all the pastas on order.

He says it back, calming down. Talking to Richie was just as important as running expo; same team. He gets it. You exchange reassuring nods.

Two doors swing open. First, Sweeps comes in through front of house, pressing a note to your back, you hold it there. You don’t think it’s a good sign when he mumbles, slipping past your shoulder. “Need a smoke break, one sec.”

Second, Carmen swings out of his office. Phone call over, he seems deeply bothered. Is Natalie okay? Is he okay? You imagine he wouldn’t just return to his station, right in front of expo, if everything wasn’t okay. He does seem… On the verge of something, though. Despite your concerns, you continue to bark out orders. You try to run it a little more… prim, this time, with Carmen back. A couple fewer ‘love yous’ peppered in between table numbers. You don’t want to make him snap by running the place not like his Exec would.

Richie rolls back his shoulders, stretching out his neck. He tries to find sympathy and kinmanship, in Carmen, “Cousin, your ol’ boss is such an asshole, you wouldn’t believe what he—”

“Respect him, Chef.”

Huh? That gives both you and Richie pause. You stutter on the order. “Twen—Twenty-six, table twenty-six, waiting on fish, Chefs.”

“Fish.” Carmen hands the plate off to expo, immediately. Cold. He hasn’t even commented on you running expo yet. Is he mad? You’re probably doing a shit job at this. You hand the serving tray off to Fak to run. He speeds out, like a reverse lassie, sensing danger and wanting to get the fuck out immediately.

“…Respect him?” Richie repeats, dumbfounded.

“He’s a Two-Star Executive Chef.” Carmen doesn’t take his eyes off his cutting board. You’re not sure what he’s making, right now— Oh shit, you should tell him about the cherry and lamb before he wastes his time.

“Don’t matter what his title is—” “Yes. It does.”

Richie’s brows raise then furrow, as do yours, just not nearly as dramatic. Neither of you were expecting a fight over this, you’ve both been serving this man first hand. Carmen worked for this guy for like two or three years, he knows. He has nightmares about this guy. You were expecting comradery. The guy is a dick, why won’t Carmen admit that? Why’s he suddenly got stock in his captor?

“Who shit in your cereal? He’s bein’ a fuckin’ creep, Cousin.” That touches your heart, a little bit. Richie’s not directly saying it’s affecting you, but it’s nice to know that he just as equally cares about your discomfort.

Carmen’s a different story, though. Because he doesn’t question why Richie would say this. Doesn’t bother to consider the idea that he’s not fully informed, on the situation. On any situation, for that matter. He just thinks he’s being attacked, for some reason.

“N’ what the fuck are you?”

That snaps you off of your focus— Quite frankly, it snaps half of the kitchen out of their focus. Everyone’s knives pause above their cutting boards, spoons half dipped into pots, it hangs in the air, for a second.

“Pardon me?” Richie puts a hand over his chest, taking a half step back, to physically display how much offense he’s taken. Fucking hell, it’s gonna be this now. “What the fuck am I?”

“D’you want me to tell you? Cause I’ll fuckin’ tell you.”

You’ve gotta get between this, before Carmen can tell him. You slip Sweeps’ note in your pocket, long forgetting it, at this point. When you step forward, Richie puts an arm in front of you, barring you from getting in the middle of this. “Rich—”

“Please.” Richie goads, ignoring you. “En-fucking-lighten me.” You immediately brace yourself for whatever impact you and the rest of this kitchen are going to be collateral for.

“You’re a fuckin’ deadbeat, Rich.” Carmen puts his knife down, turning from his station to face Rice. Where the fuck is all this coming from? What kind of phone call was this? When you open your mouth to interrupt, Richie puts his other hand up in front of your face, shushing you. He wants to hear what Carmen has to say. You desperately do not want to hear what Carmen has to say.

“You wouldn’t have shit without me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have shit?”

“You wouldn’t be able to pay for your fuckin’ life—” “Oh here we go—” “Or your fuckin’ kid—” “Oh, oh you wanna talk to me about my fuckin’ kid?” “You wouldn’t have shit—” “At least I have a fuckin’ kid.” “Fuck you!”

“Fuck you, you don’t have shit, Carmen, you don’t let good shit ever fuckin’ happen to you. So fuckin’ tough, never let anyone talk to you.”

It is impossible to get a word in, inch wise. They are so in each other’s faces, Carmen’s a bit shorter than Richie, and that somehow does not make him any less intimidating. This has been brewing long before you showed up, that much is very fucking clear. What caused the snap to happen now is beyond you.

You cannot find a moment to interrupt, to attempt to mediate. No one can. The kitchen is divided, some continue cooking to avoid the situation, some have stopped to watch, wondering to themselves who’s going to intervene, and some are like you, waiting for the right moment to step in. There will never be a right moment to step in.

“Where were you, when I fuckin’ put your brother in the ground, you selfish piece of shit?”

Oh. Stray bullet, for you. You wince— Not that you weren’t already, but that was definitely a personal hit. Richie’s still harbouring resentment over that for Carmen, which means he still holds it somewhere for you, too. And at least Carmen came back after, to take care of The Beef. Where the fuck were you for the better half of a year? Vanished. You completely vanished, on him.

“You’re so fucking obsessed with my family— Such—You’re such a fucking leech.”

You catch it from Carmen, too. Does Carmen see you as a leech? A parasite, tethering to his family? To his work? Is that why he’s mad, right now? You’ve inserted yourself without asking— You’re so pushy— No, no, he likes that your pushy, you’re good. He doesn’t think that about you, he doesn’t actually think Richie is a leech either, he’s just saying shit to start shit. It’s working. He’s really stirring up shit.

“Oh, I’m fucking obsessed—” “You fucking leech—” “I’m so fucking obsessed with you.” “I should’ve cut you out!” “Yeah.” “I should’ve fuckin’ cut you out!”

“I fuckin’ love you!” Richie points in Carmen’s face, and Carmen somehow manages to not give a shit. It does nothing, for Richie to have said this, and that is shattering. Sydney reaches for your hand, you don’t look at her, you only know it’s her because of the band-aids. You take it.

“You fucking need me!”

“I fucking love you!”

“You’re fucking nothing!”

“Don’t fucking say that!” That’s when you jump in. Practically call and response, for you. Your body processes what Carmen even said before your brain does. That was the straw. Carmen picked the wrong fucking one, to say that in front of. Carmen drew the line a lot of times, Carmen drew the line when he said to respect that Asshole— Quite frankly, Carmen drew the line with the broken sauce ‘you want a star’ bullshit with Syd— But this was the back breaker, for you.

You let go of Syd’s hand, moving to be in between the men, back facing Richie, defending him, “Don’t fuckin’ say that shit to Richie— To anyone, ‘specially not Richie.”

“Oh, like he’s some fuckin’ prize?” Your eyes go wide, like dinner plates. Carmen continues, “You wanna fix him, too? Add him to the list?”

“Fix him?” Is that what he thinks of you? That you think people need ‘fixing’? “I’m not trying to fix anyone, Carmen.”

“Didn’t try to fix Mikey?”

You straighten up a bit, whole brain dialing up. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

You adore Carmen, but in this moment, you cannot help but think of all the utterly life ruining comebacks you could say to set him on his ass, right now. Bite your tongue, same team. “Oh, I’m excused?”

“You don’t fuckin’ work here.” Ouch.

“Oh, suddenly that’s a problem—”

“Think you’re the fuckin’ peoples’ princess—” Ouch.

“That is not what I’m doing—”

“No no, of course it’s not, you’re such a goddamn saviour, modern day Christ.” Ouch.

“Carmen—” Richie tries to step in front of you, you put the back of your hand on his chest, holding him back. Time for you to prove what you said, in your kitchen, just a few days ago. Time to prove to Carmen, and quite frankly, yourself, that you can take this. That you can take his teeth. Carmen gave you fair warning, that the shoe could drop, that he might do this. Your first fight. It came a lot faster than you expected, but fair warning’s a fair warning.

“Say what you wanna say, Carmen.”

“Where’s your fucking invoice?” Carmen’s never swore at you, you’re pretty sure. It feels weird, in your chest. Cornering. You frown. “You didn’t fuckin’ give it to Nat, don’t lie.”

“It’s complicated.” It’s a legitimate answer, to you. It is complicated. “We can talk about it, after—”

“I don’t need to be some fuckin’ charity tax write-off, alright?” Carmen interrupts, he doesn’t care to hear your explanation. He’s already decided your intentions, and that feels very unfair, doesn’t feel like you’re on the same team. “Just fucking charge me. You wanna work here? Fucking charge me.”

Is he trying to make your entire dynamic transactional? Why is he acting like this? What did you do wrong? Don’t tear up. You can take it. You can take the teeth, Tony, come on. “That’s not—”

“I don’t need fuckin’ fixing, alright, I’m not another fucking addict—”

You can feel bristle Richie behind you. You both handled that ‘fucking addict’ first hand, and you certainly don’t care for him to be referred to as such. You interrupt Carmen’s tirade, “Don’t say that shit—”

Carmen rolls back his head, like he’s tired of some sort of façade— Like you’re being fake. “Oh, my fucking God—”

“What! What the fuck—” “He’s fucking dead, you can say it— He was a fucking loser junkie—”

He doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t mean it. He’s just trying to start shit. Same team. He’s just hurt over something he hasn’t admitted yet. Same team.

“Carmen—” You can’t get a word out, with this guy. God, you wish this was at least behind closed doors. Wish he’d give you and Richie the grace of breaking you both down without an audience.

“And, and—” There’s a split second of manic laughter to it, he’s so incensed by the idea. “You, you fucking gave that junkie money?”

You’re quick to furrow your brows, emphatically shaking your head. Did you give him discounts on services and pay his diner tab on occasion? Sure. But that’s an entirely different thing. “I never gave Mikey a cent—”

“Oh?” Carmen shrugs, “So you don’t have a joint bank account?”

Oh.

Oh. Is that what this is fucking about? He found some paperwork or a debit card lying around and lost his shit? Carmen and Mikey are very different people, and you love that, but one of your least favourite differences is Mikey never circled the drain, when it came to what he didn’t like. Carmen’s spent forever, needling Richie, and then needling you over some fucking joint bank account? That still doesn’t feel like it, though. There’s gotta be something he’s not saying.

To be fair, you know how the man spirals, you were hoping to explain these weird leftovers from your history yourself. This is what the painting was for. You were supposed to start on the first page— God, at the very least, a softer page, one that makes it all make sense, for him.

“Carmen, I get why you may be confused, but I—”

“Don’t tell me I’m fucking confused. I’m not fucking confused— I— This is my fucking kitchen, alright?” Entirely nonsensical. Too many thoughts are stirring in his head.

It’s hard to keep your eyes from watering. Take the teeth, same team. It was easier to compartmentalize with Mikey, when he yelled at you, because his eyes were blown out, and you could tell that it wasn’t him talking to you. But this is a sober Carmen. This is what he deep down, somewhere, thinks of you, isn’t it? He doesn’t think you belong in his kitchen. Don’t belong here.

“That— That fuckin’ asshole out front, or whatever you fuckin’ call him?” He points to booth twelve, through the window. You are now reminded that there is a window, and that there are more people than just the kitchen, here, there’s patrons. If they craned their necks and listened close, the sound proofing would keep them from hearing Carmen, but you feel like they could probably hear the way your heart is struggling to keep pace.

“That’s me— That’s who the fuck I am. And I’m good like that, so—So if he’s a fuckin’ creep so am I. N’ I don’t need you comin’ in my fuckin’ kitchen, comin’ in my fuckin’ life, actin’ like you know better than me!”

“I never said I know better than you!”

“You didn’t need to!”

“I—” You swallow your spit. You have always tried to keep a level field, with Carmen. Since day one. “I never meant—”

“I don’t— I am not your fuckin’ charity case, you do not need to-to donate to me to make up for the fact that you failed Mikey!”

Yeah.

You can’t take these teeth.

Carmen Anthony Berzatto realizes a couple of things, seven things, in quick succession, after he says this.

Thing One. His middle name is Anthony. Tony. That’s kind of funny. He should tell you that, make you laugh. He never really thought about it, until now. Didn’t have one of those moments where his brain disconnects from his body as a method of escaping the poison in his mouth, so it can have plausible deniability, until right now.

Thing Two. You are not Mikey. He had gotten so caught up, over the past week, conflating the fact that you’re both so likable and so ‘The Guy’ with the idea that you’re just the same. You’re not. You don’t react to being pushed and screamed at, like Mikey did, you don’t scream back. You defend yourself, but you don’t bite back at him, the way he bit at you. You don’t fight. You don’t get mean. You are not Mikey. Carmen always took Mikey trying to help as him trying to one up him; a silent way of saying he was better. You are not Mikey. You helping around the kitchen tonight, helping him every fucking day, was never you trying to one up him— Let alone fix him.

Thing Three. Your cherry and lamb plate is nowhere to be seen. It’s only been like three, five minutes? Where’d it go? He can’t even find a plate of bones. You’re never going to speak to him again, after this, he knows that. He’s never going to hear straight from you what you thought, he needs to see if you cleaned the plate.

Thing Four. He didn’t even ask. He didn’t even mention the photos, the thing that he was actually hung up about. Carmen’s confrontational, but not in the way that matters. He yells, but it’s never the thing he actually wants to yell about. Those candles could’ve been for anything. How old was Eva, when you met Mikey? Carmen doesn’t know, he wasn’t here. Could’ve just been birthdays. There’s a million reasons to have those photos, there’s a million reasons to have a joint bank account. He should’ve asked. He should’ve listened when you were trying to explain. You were trying to explain. You had something to say. You even acknowledged how confused he must be. How confused must you be, right now? He didn’t explain why he was yelling, at all. He didn’t ask, and he didn’t listen.

Thing Five. Carmen wasn’t here. You were. You were here. He blames himself, for his brother’s suicide, and he wasn’t even here. And then there’s you. You were here, and you probably took Mikey on your shoulders the way you take everything on your shoulders. And he just said you failed. He never asked you, if you blamed yourself, but he doesn’t need to. Everyone blames themselves. God, why did he call Richie nothing? Richie was here, too. He’s not a fucking leech, he was here. And that’s a fuck of a lot more than Carmen did. It’s not just about when Richie put his brother in the ground, it was the years before, proceeding, that Carmen wasn’t here for, and both of you were. And he just fucking said that you failed. He said it was your fault.

Thing Six. Carmen glances over your trembling shoulders, out the window, to where he can just see the edge of his old Exec’s head. Who he’s just said he is. Ugh. He thinks back to when that man became Exec, and Carmen took over as head. He remembers the promise he made to himself, when he went back to his shitty New York studio apartment and cracked open an incredibly expensive bottle of champagne (gifted) to drink alone on his mattress with no bedframe. He promised himself that no matter how bad it got in the kitchen, no matter how bad it got in his head, he would never get in someone’s ear and tell them that they were no good, terrible, slow, useless, better off dead, dumb fuck. He promised himself, that he would never make someone cry in his kitchen.

Point Seven. He’s resented the fact for the past week, that he hasn’t gotten to be the first person to do a lot of things, with you. He’s resented how much he missed out on, how much he wishes it was him in the photos, in the memories. But now you get to be one of his firsts. You get to be the first person he’s ever made cry, in his kitchen. When his brain comes back to his body, and he repeats back to himself the exchange that just happened. Yeah, he’d cry, too.

You have wonderfully bright eyes. He didn’t tell you that, before. He should’ve. He gets compliments on his bright blue eyes a lot, but yours just have this glow from within, about them. A brightness that he doesn’t, a sweetness that his don’t. That’s gone now. Eyes go from wide to hurt to vacant. Gone. Devoid. Hand over your mouth to cover the wobbling of your bottom lip. You look like he did, two years ago, at the French Laundry. A shell of what he was. A shell of what you are.

Carmen was right, he is the man out front. That’s who he is. That’s what he is.

A husk, biting down on the hand that feeds; defending nothing from no threat.

Richie didn’t need to call you, to let you know that Carmen’s awful for you, that he’s an asshole to everyone around him, that he’s sharp and not worth your time. Richie didn’t need to call you, to tell you that he’s just some fucking creep Executive Chef, but this time, he doesn’t even have any stars to retain about it. Richie didn’t need to call you. Carmen told you himself who he is, just fine.

Please make eye-contact. Please look him in the eyes, you used to do it all the time. You might never look him in the eyes again, please do it one more time. He didn’t savour it, before, didn’t hold it, when he should’ve. He would’ve, if he knew it would’ve been the last time. He should’ve been savouring it every time. He should’ve kissed you, when you kissed him on the temple— He should’ve let you know. You’re so smart, when it comes to emotions and things— Everything. Intuitive. If you’d look him in the eyes, you’d be able to tell how sorry he is, how wrong he knows he is for saying everything he said. But you’re downcast, trying to zero in on something.

You swallow, blinking wildly in a failed attempt to stall tears, and nod imperceptibly, digesting his words. He wishes you wouldn’t. This is the last thing he’d want you to eat.

Sydney is already rushing to your side, her station long forgotten. “Yoyoyoyoyo—”

She’s distressed, because she cares about you, hurrying to comfort you, taking your hand, then arm, then shoulder. She’s trying to get you to look at her, you won’t. You won’t look at anyone. She’s crouching to get in your field of vision. “C’mon, c’mon—”

Richie is behind you, where he should be, already squaring himself up, making himself taller. Carmen has never wanted someone to hit him, he’s pretty sure, until right now. He just wishes it was you doing it. Fight him back, please. Break his jaw, permanently, please. Keep him from saying anything ever again. Keep him from making you make that face, ever again. He wishes it was you doing it, but he’ll take Richie as a close second.

Richie steps in front of you, grabbing him by his collar, good. “How could you fuckin’ say that shit to Chippy—”

“Please don’t call me Chip.” Is the first thing you say, voice quiet, cracking. You’re pinching the bridge of your nose, hard, thumb nail digging in. Eyes closed. You’re trying to hold it down. “Not right now.”

And like a guard dog, Richie heels. Of course, Richie would find you more important than violence. He cares. You put a hand over Syd's, on your shoulder, squeezing it. “I’m good, Syd.”

Everyone knows you’re not good. Your voice cracks painfully, again, when you say you’re good. “Just gimme a second.”

“I love you, dude.”

“I know, Syd—” “Will you let me?” “I—”

You take one deep breath, slow, rubbing your thumb over her hand. She gives you a clean dish rag. You wipe your tears and blow your nose. When you lift your head back up, to face the crowd that is the kitchen, it’s like it never happened. Well, your face still has that puffiness and redness to it, and your eyes certainly look irritated and glassy. But you’ve gathered such resolve back, immediately. Hardened up, immediately. Turned off a sect of yourself. If Carmen didn’t know you, he doesn’t think he’d be able to tell you were just crying.

“Apologize,” —He'll grovel to high hell— “To Richie.”

Carmen’s eyes flicker with confusion, just for a second, you catch it. You repeat, clearer. “Apologize to Richie. Say you didn’t fuckin’ mean that.”

Carmen doesn’t need a broken jaw, to go speechless, apparently. You don’t care to defend yourself at all, here. Never put yourself first. He frowns, you don’t take it the right way, no, why would you? You speak with an extra layer of gravity.

“Berzatto.” Hurts worse than when you say Carmen with disappointment. Deserved punishment.

“I’m sorry, Richie…Not nothing.”

“Not fuckin’ forgiven—” You put a hand up, turning your head to face the man behind you. “Rich.”

“Oh, don’t—”

“Say sorry—” “He fuckin’ started it—” “You didn’t have to entertain it.” “He was bein’ a bitch—” “Jerimovich!”It’s more fun, when you do it to Richie. More kindergarten teacher like, breaking up a fight at recess.

“I’m fuckin’ sorry, Cousin.” Richie does not mean it. It’s okay. He doesn’t have to. He was right. Didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.

You turn back to Carmen, of whom you still will not make eye contact. That’s fair. “Can Richie take five?” He doesn’t like that you feel like you have to ask him for permission, now. “He’s gotta help me carry tools, to my car.”

That’s a chance to talk to you, alone. “I can—”

“No.” You shoot Carmen down quickly. “Richie’s got it. You’ve gotta keep your kitchen in order.”

That hurts. But he said it. He said it was his kitchen, he said you didn’t work here. You’re so much more than an employee. You’re family, everyone here treats you like family. This is your kitchen, too. He doesn’t really care what anyone else thinks, right now, but it also occurring to him that he said all that in front of everyone here, everyone who adores you. None of these people have seen this side of you— You didn’t come to the funeral. This is probably why. It’s pretty clear you don’t like crying in front of people, the way you immediately go somewhere else mentally.

Richie’s already walking, you didn’t actually ask him to grab your tools from the corner of the kitchen, but he just does it. Wordless. Richie knows how to show that he loves you. Carmen could learn, from that. Carmen could learn from Sydney too, she said it, and she’s still holding your arm.

Carmen takes a step forward to you, and what you mean by it, he’s not sure, but what he does see, is you take a step back. He immediately takes two steps back.

You’re very good. Too good, too good for anyone. Not gonna change my mind ‘bout that. That’s what he said to you, when you confessed you were worried he would ‘figure out’ you weren’t good. He lied to you. The other shoe dropped and he’s the one that made it.

You sniff, you feel bad for taking a step back, but you think if Carmen touched you right now, you’d have a full-blown meltdown, and you’d like to hold some modicum of respect amongst your peers here.

Carmen hates you. You didn’t expect that. But it’s fair. You’re not certain what he saw along with the joint bank account, but if he was able to put the pieces together, it makes sense. You failed his brother, failed Mikey. God, it’s still ringing in your ears. You killed him. Everyone knows that. Everyone hates you. He said the quiet thing, that everyone here knows, out loud. You didn’t do enough. You weren’t smart enough. You failed to do the one job you’ve been trained for, save someone, set them at ease— For fuckssake, just keep your friend from dying. Is that so fucking difficult? Was that so hard? He’s right to say it. You don’t have the right to be upset right now. He doesn’t owe you anything. You owe him.

You owe him.

You look to Syd, “You have a pen?”

You can tell she doesn’t like that you’re essentially blocking off the part of your brain that feels pain. What’d she expect? You were an E.M.T. for three years, you learned how to turn off your brain. She gives you the pen from her breast pocket anyways. You dig through your pants pocket for a slip of paper, oh shit, the note from Sweeps, you completely forgot about it. It’s a folded guest check, it says ‘B12’ on the front. Booth Twelve, you infer. You unfold and read Sweeps' chicken scratch. It’s nice to focus on something that isn’t the rotting feeling inside you… No fucking way.

“Sweeps!”

“Yuh-huh?” It’s nice that Sweeps has only just came back in from his smoke break. He has no idea why everyone’s shocked and/or enraged right now, and there’s something beautiful and perfect about that. Sanct.

“Did he seem serious?” You hold the note between two fingers for him to see and know what you’re talking about.

Sweeps shrugs, slipping his Marlboro pack into his inner breast pocket. “You can fuckin’ read that guy?”

A very fair call. You sigh, then flip the note over, it’s hard to write, using your hand as a pad, but it doesn’t really matter, neatness doesn’t matter. Just write it fast so you can get the fuck out of here and cry in your car about a boy that doesn’t love you and never will.

“Freezer door hotfix, eighty. Plumbing repair, took about four hours, that’s two-fifty. House call oven, seventy. Oven hotfix just now, plus replacement part costs… One-twenty.”

You hate doing this. It sucks to be doing this. This is what the fucking painting was for. Why couldn’t he just let you do it in the order you wanted? You were supposed to start this on a better page.

“Said I’d pay you back for that pinot, which is about twenty on wholesale, so… Five hundred even.”

You click and unclick the pen, several times, shoulders tensing. “I don’t think you need fixing, and I wasn’t trying to make up for anything. I’m sorry, Carmen.”

“I’m—” It’s the first time he’s tried to speak, and you just can’t let him. You can’t listen to his voice right now, you know it’s unfair, but you can’t, so you interrupt him.

“I didn’t tell Nat you covered the invoice.”

You hand him the note, careful to hold it at the very edges, so you don’t make contact when he takes it. “I owe you two thousand.”

At the bottom of your shoddy invoice, it reads, ‘Advanced Payment, M. Berzatto. $2,500.’

You told him it was fucking complicated.

He should’ve let it lie. He should’ve bitten his fucking tongue, like you did for him constantly. You told Nat her brother covered the invoice; you just didn’t say which one. Was it intentionally sneaky? Yeah, obviously, because how were you supposed to fucking explain that? It’s fucking complicated. But no, Carmen didn’t fucking want to hear anything you tried to explain, so you’re just gonna let his stupid fucking dumbfounded face stay that way. If he just told you what he actually saw, like a fucking adult, you could’ve done so, happily. But Carmen hates you, and he’s decided what you are. He probably doesn’t want to hear much of your voice, anyways. Keep it short.

“So just… I’ll just uhm… Wire you. Or something.”

You sigh, thinking about what’s on the other side of that fucking note. “You have my number, you can give it to him, if you want.”

The Exec liked the cherry and lamb dish. Of course he would, it was perfect. It also seems like he enjoys that you’re both smart and clearly ‘spunky’, or some shit. He wants the ‘wine girl’s’ number. Didn’t even bother to remember you said Jack. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll send the mystical wine girl his close friend Michelin Guide Inspector’s number, and maybe they’ll review the place. Maybe. Doesn’t matter to you. Not your kitchen.

A chance at a chance at a chance or your well-being? That’s Carmen’s choice now.

You snap your finger, pointing to the note, remembering. You never brought The Guy a wine, “Pinot Noir. Marcassin 2013. Top left shelf. Pit a cherry and put it on the rim.” It's the perfect pairing, for his dish.

At least get him a star, if he has to hate you.

When you start to move, Syd’s still holding onto you. You don’t pull her off, but you do put your hand over hers, and she knows what you want. She doesn’t care. She repeats. “Will you let me?”

Goddammit. Does she want you crying all over again? You’re trying very hard to not look like a wuss, right now. “I will. Just need five minutes alone, okay? I’ll wait outside.”

She doesn’t want to, but you’re not giving her many other options here, so Syd nods and lets you go. “Five minutes.”

“Five minutes.” You clap your hands together, eyes glazing over the rest of the staff. Rest of your family. You’re trying not to read their expressions because if you do you very well might scream, cry, and throw up all at the same time. “Everyone! Back to work! It’s half past five you’ve still got a whole night ahead, look alive, Chefs.”

You pass Carmen, careful not to bump shoulders. Just get out of here unscathed. Hopefully he’s not too mad about the dish swap. You made the right call. It won’t matter if he’s mad, anyways, actually, he already hates you.

At least be something of value, for him, if he has to hate you.

Richie’s out there, leaning against the trunk of your shitty 2004 Dodge Intrepid. How he knew it was yours, you’re not sure. Probably the goofy bumper stickers. It’s a piece of shit. Broken fob. You have to use your key to unlock the trunk. It still works. You speak at once.

“What the fuck was that?”

You both laugh, though it’s hollow. You unlock the trunk, Richie throws your tools in. He’s first to add. “You didn’t actually want me to fuckin’ apologize, did you?”

You shrug, head tilting back and forth, he kisses his teeth, you supplement. “Listen, the ‘you don’t have a kid’— Touch crazy.”

“He fuckin’ started it!” “I know he fuckin’ did, I’m not defendin’ him!”

You purse your lips. There was the other thing Richie said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t at the funeral, Cousin.”

“Ah, oh…” Richie attempts to wave it off, shrugging, as if it wasn’t a huge fucking deal to him just two minutes ago. “It’s good—”

“It’s not.” You interject. Richie always says he’s fucking good, when he’s not. He’s not good about Tif, he’s not good about the Exec making fun of him, he’s not good about you abandoning him, for a year. “It’s not good, Richie, and I’m sorry.”

You swallow, closing your trunk. You attempt to remember bits and pieces of your prepared speech, from dinner. But this is reality, and typically once transferred from your mind, it makes the words so much clunkier, lines forgotten, here and there.

“I should’ve been here, after. It was fucked up, that I just left. Made you hold it down, by yourself, and— And I can’t fucking imagine, Richie, how hard that must’ve been.”

Standing in The Bear is a touch easier, because it’s so different now. But Richie was there, days after Mikey died, in The Beef. Taking smoke breaks with a shadow that was no longer next to him. Forced to keep morale up, all by himself. You can imagine how hard it must’ve been, and that’s exactly why you stopped coming around.

Richie can only bring himself to nod, swiping his nose, because it’s starting to run.

“I— I didn’t cut you out. I want you to know that.” Carmen was so cruel, with that shit. “That wasn’t me cutting you out. I— I was tryna cut myself out.”

He halfheartedly laughs, confused. “Fucks that mean, Cousin?”

“I—” How can you word this in a way that isn’t just as cruel? “I didn’t think we were friends.”

He mimics being shot. You add, “Fuckin’ listen—” “Fuckin’ drive-by—”

“I just didn’t think— I don’t think anyone’s my friend, I don’t think.”

“What’s that even begin to mean?”

“I… I feel like… I’m just like… So insecure, about my place in relationships, that like— Like I’m not worth people’s time. Like we were only friends because we were friends with Mikey and we were handling him and I was like— Like I was helpful. So, like, when he died, it was like… We— There was no reason, for you to be friends with me, anymore. No us.”

Richie takes a moment, to digest it. The silence is terrible for you though, so you continue. “I’m startin’ to realize, that not likin’ myself, can actually really end up hurtin’ the people I love—”

“I’d still love you, even if you weren’t helpful. By the by.”

Richie’s interruption hits you in the chest like a fucking freight train. “Oh Jesus Christ, Richie—”

“What? What the fuck—”

“That was just fuckin’ crazy.” You cover your eyes, tears already coming to a head. He’s relieved, you mean crazy like good.

“Fuck, Richie, I love you.” You sniff, trying to look at him through watery eyes, it’s near impossible to do without warbling. “Man… You were here.”

Now it’s Richie’s turn to have his tear-jerking trigger phase said. “Oh, don’t start, Chip—”

“You were fucking here, Richie, Carmen doesn’t fuckin’ get that— No one gets that.” You’re kind of blubbering, honestly, starting to point at him, speaking emphatically. It might be better that this is happening in the parking lot rather than in the middle of the restaurant.

“You’re fucking— You’re fucking something, okay? Carmen is a bitch, you were right— You’re good, Richie. You’re fucking good and—and— You were here, and you’re important, and— And— I didn’t fuckin’ say that enough, back then. So, I’m fuckin’ doin’ it now. I love you, and I’m here, and if fuckin’— If Eva ever needs anything, I’m there, if you’re ever in need, I’m there. If you just want to fuckin— Fuckin’ text someone, and actually just hang out like Normals—I’m there for that, too. I’d even go to fucking Tif’s wedding with you, if that helped.”

Richie’s got a couple tears going, which is good for you, because it makes your sobbing less embarrassing. “Fuck, Cousin…” He looks down, rubbing the bridge of his nose, like a self-soothing technique. When he looks back up to face you, he blurts it out.

“You wanna see a Taylor Swift concert wit’ me?”

Your response is immediate and baffled, “What?”

“I’ve got three tickets for me n’ Eva but Tif won’t come, it’s in January.”

You take a moment to buffer, brain half moving out of the tender moment. Shaking your head in disbelief, still fully crying.

“Richie… That sounds, like the worst experience I could ever imagine. You couldn’t pay me to write an outing so perfectly curated to be the worst, for me.”

“Don’t fuckin’ hate on T Swift—” “Richie, I’d love to.”

The death grip grab and hug is so immediate. You feel bad for getting tears and probably snot on his coat, but he said himself it’s a knock off, so he’ll live.

“You didn’t fail Mikey, Chip.” He kisses the crown of your head. Richie must be a good dad. You’d tell him that, but he might overload, the man doesn’t get acknowledged much, you’ve got to take it slow with the praise. You don’t reply to his sentiment, so he repeats it.

“Y’did everythin’ you humanly could.”

“I could’ve done a couple things different.”

“So could I. It my fault, too, then?”

You both know very well, that you blame yourselves. And as much as both of you would like it to, this one cry-fest isn’t going to magically make all of those bleeding guilts go away. Especially not after Carmen tore those stitches right back open.

“Well, no—” “‘Xactly.”

But you accept it, for the moment. “…Okay.” For this moment, you get the lesson.

And you’ll both forget it tomorrow, when you have that split second in the A.M. Where Mikey is still alive, before you remember. But right now, it’s neither of your faults that the glue between you died and left you both to figure out how to still stick together. You stay in that hug for quite a while, crying and rocking back and forth, before Richie lets go saying, “Aright, I do actually need a fuckin’ cig.”

“You’re going to give me second hand smoke and kill me.”

He smirks, already fishing out a loosie from his pocket. “We can only hope.”

Despite your complaints and not being a smoker, you still pull out a lighter for him. Mom friend. Never know when you’re going to need a fire. You cup the flame for him. This is the worst Friday of your life, you’re pretty sure. But here is Richie, sticking beside you. And here you are, sticking beside him.

Syd steps out, she keeps crossing between a walk and a jog to you two, unsure of what looks more awkward. You don’t know, but you do know the option of switching between both is easily the most awkward.

She asks, walk-jogging up to you, “Are you good?”

“I’ve been better.”

She grabs your face in her hands, reviewing your puffy bleary-eyed face. Just looking at it makes her want to cry, too. You hold her wrists. “M’sorry for cryin’ in your kitchen. I know that’s the type shit you deal with all the time—”

Richie and Syd speak in unison, a rarity, for them to be on the same page. “No the fuck it’s not.”

Sydney continues, “That was extremely not normal. Crazy fucked up of him to say that shit— I don’t even know like— Like any of the backstory, but even I know that was fucked up to say.”

You sniff, nodding slightly. “Yeah, a little.”

“A lot.”

You nod, no longer fighting to downplay it. That was fucked up of Carmen, you don’t need to try to make it seem less bad. “Yeah, a lot.”

She nods back, still holding your face. Bandaged fingers pressed against your head. “What d’you wanna do?”

“Go home?” Cry? Eat freezer cake?

“Well, yeah.” She chuckles, so you do too. “I mean like, like—” She nods behind her, to The Bear. What do you want to do going forward? Never talk to him again? I’ll do it, too. She’s saying, wordlessly.

“I— I don’t fuckin’ know.” You admit, laughing, but hollow. The very idea of reconciliation feels impossible, at the moment. “I think I’m just gonna, fuckin’ ignore it, until it comes up. Just don’t break shit until I figure it out, I guess.”

“Wedding gig is gonna be so awkward.”

“Oh, fuck—” Entirely forgot, about the wedding gig, next weekend. Vinnie and Mira, destination wedding. New York.

Richie pipes in, “Tonight’s gonna be awkward enough, don’t even wanna go the fuck back in.”

Syd nods, letting go of your face. “I think like, half the kitchen wants to walk right now, just to fuck with him. I do, too. Should we just say fuck this and go to Mattina?”

“Don’t think they’re open, only do breakfast and lunch.” Richie knows their hours; it wasn’t always just Mikey and you there. He takes a drag, he blows it away from you, so you don’t get second hand smoke.

“Fuck... Could do Denny’s? Inky, you fuck with Denny’s, still?”

‘Think once you realize, you’ll leave, and it’ll all leave with you.’ That’s what Carmen was scared of, exactly. What he thought would happen, if the other shoe dropped. Is this you leaving? This might be you leaving. This should be more dramatic, if this is you leaving, shouldn’t it? There should be finale music ringing in your ears, somehow. But instead, you’re in a parking lot with a chain smoker and your girl, making shitty diner plans.

You can’t let them leave Carmen. So much work cannot be wasted just for your hurt heart. You shake your head— Then nod, confusing yourself. “I—I do still fuck with Denny’s, but y’all have to go back in, you can’t fuck him over.”

“I very specifically want to fuck him over.” Syd’s quick to reply, Richie nods, agreeing. These two are only bonding over a mutual love of you and a current mutual hate of Carmen.

“You gotta get your star, Squid.”

She swallows, at that. She loves you, she does. But you’re right. You always are. This is her entirely livelihood and career, she can’t just dip out, because of a fight. She’s done it before, during the worst rush of her life, but that was small potatoes compared to this.

“Go hold it down,” You look at both of them, nodding to The Bear. “Don’t let anyone walk, solidarity is cute, but I’ll be okay.”

Regardless of how right you are, both Richie and Syd boo you. “Let him drown!”

It’s hard not to laugh. “Fuckin’ —guys— I’m serious.”

“I’m fuckin’ serious too, Chip!” Richie jabs at your shoulder, lightly, “Thought you said you take me fuckin’ serious?”

“Bitch—” You click your tongue, pointing at him, sighing. You can’t help but smile. They’re both on your team, to the bitter end. “I will see you at the wedding, aright? I’ll text you, both of you.”

“You driving, too?”

You and Syd both back up, for a second, expressions baffled. You’re first to ask Richie, “You’re driving?”

He’s equally confused. “What, you’re fuckin’ flying?”

“Cicero’s paying, why wouldn’t we?”

“Uncle Jimmy is fuckin’ paying?!” Richie gives him an emotionally charged chocolate covered banana and still hasn’t gotten on Uncle’s good side? This is bullshit.

“He’s paying for everyone! Or at least I thought he was—” Syd replies for you. “That was like the whole fuckin’ deal— Did you not get emailed a boarding pass?”

“No! He told me to get gas— You’re fuckin’ flying—?”

You clap your hands together, “Richie, what the fuck is going on in your life that this is not the first thing that you clarified for plans?” You tap Syd on the shoulder, “Marcus said he’s cool with switching seats, by the way, so we can sit together.”

“I have a fuckin kid, aright—”

“Ooohh—” You and Syd mock him in unison. “We get it.” “Whoop-di-doo.” “Did you hear, Squid?” “What’s that, Inky?” “Richie has a kid!” “What? No way. He definitely doesn’t bring it up all the fuckin’ time.”

“Alright, fuck you two.” He waves you both off. “Plane's gonna crash.”

Syd shrugs, “You’re doing a twelve-hour road trip, you’re gonna crash—”

“Fucks Inky mean anyways? Stupid ass nickname—” “Oh, like Chip is so original—” “Actually, a dead guy coined it, so betchu feel real dumb now—” “I’m not capable of feeling dumb—”

You interrupt, “Girls, girls, you’re both beautiful.”

That quells them with snorts of laughter, quickly. They both shove at you. Equilibrium.

You explain to Rich, “I called Syd ‘Squid’ in high-school— Literally just ‘cause it sounds funny, and uh, she felt jealous that she didn’t have one for me—”

“I don’t know if jealous is the word—” “So Inky just became the call n’ response. Cause, cause squid ink?”

“Yeah, I’m not fuckin’ stupid. I can do two plus two, Chip.” Richie tucks his hands in his pockets. It’s starting to get a little chilly. You’re now remembering you left Carmen’s jacket at expo. Goddammit, now you’re remembering Carmen and your heart hurts again. You hug your shoulders.

“What’s Chip, anyways?” Syd asks, you and Richie both cringe, just slightly. Syd mimics it. “Bad?”

You shrug, “Just… It takes a lot, to explain, I guess.” Personal. “We’ll need a trip to Denny’s, for that one.”

“So? Let’s go.”

What did you just say. “Bitch—”

“Heard.” Syd cuts you off, laughing. She gives you a tight hug. “Text me when you get home.”

You hug her back, even tighter, if possible. “I will.”

“I’m glad you’re back.” It’s been three years, since you were really daily friends with Syd. And though you clicked right back into place no problem, in this hug, the feeling really starts to set in of how much you two needed each other this whole time. It’s been so long since you both had a best friend. It was good to be apart, and learn things apart, but now you’re both back. It’s not just Richie that you returned to.

“I’m glad I’m back, too.” You clap her back a few times, before letting go. “Alright, it’s been like ten fucking minutes, go be great. Get a star. Or a chance at a chance for a star.”

“Heard, Chip.” “Heard, Ink.”

One last hug from Richie, before they head back in, and you pop in your car, and drive off. Back home. Music blasts from your radio the entire ride, to keep you from thinking. Screaming along to diss tracks help soothe the soul in any scenario, you think. Won’t let anything hit, this way.

A stray cat, the stray cat, the one you feed on your fire escape, is surprise surprise, on your fire escape, when you get home. She’s (you think she’s a she, you’re not super sure how to check, you’re a former E.M.T, not a Vet tech.) biting the flowers you potted out there. The flowers Carmen stole for you.

After a quick google check to make sure none of them are poisonous to cats, you let her. Let the cat decide how much of him stays. You dish out a pile of kibble for her on the one black plate Carmen gave you. You leave it on the fire escape, long after she finishes. Let the elements decide if it gets ruined.

Let Carmen breaking your text streak, never sending you a belated Connections result tonight, decide if this is the end.

This could be the end.

The same picture frame that fell off your wall, just two weeks ago, when you were making the painting for Carmen, falls again. You grumble, picking up the picture frame, setting it on the coffee table. You’ll nail it up properly in the morning. You roll your eyes at the phantom that you’re never certain actually haunts you.  “Mikey, shut the fuck up, this is your fault, y’know…”

You sigh, staring nowhere. The wind blows against your window.  “I guess it's both our faults.”

You drag your feet, walking to your bedroom.

“I know you said I’d be a perfect match for your little brother, but at this point, I’m taking that as a read.”

It was so fun for me, the way y'all were like, ah, i'm sure this'll be so painful when this is resolved next chapter because Carmen will scream at her about it. hahahahahhaha-- You think the least yet most direct bitch of all time was going to actually confront what he was upset about? NO1!!!!!!! WE'VE ONLY GOT MORE QUESTIONS NOW. WHAT THE FUCK CARMEN!!! What's with that Advanced Payment? And I didn't lie bro, go back and read it, Tony did say Nat's brother covered it. Sneaky sneaky....

Oh, also. Y'all thought I would let the freezer fight slide by? Naahhhh, golden moment of television, just delayed the inevitable muhahahahha and got the FAILED MIKEY?!?!?!?! BROOOOOOOO was it as bad as you thought it would be or no? worse? better? lmk

I loved writing Syd and Richie w/ Tony here. I can't believe any of you thought I wouldn't see Richie and Tony's much needed reconciliation through--- If this was a Richie fanfic, 100% this would've been their smooch moment, fr. Also if you're a taylor swift fan, please don't be mad at me i was doing a funny okokokokokok-- (I also just think it means a lot more, if it's something she doesn't want to do, but will, for him)

i know it's technically still 2022 in their universe but tony was in that fucking car ride home listening to fuckin Ain't Shit, HISS, euphoria, Like That, Not Like Us, Not Nice (YOUR MAMA AINT WORTH THE CRACK YOU SMOKE BITCH!!!!!!!) I know she was so heated in there.

We've got a taglist, I'm bad at keeping track of it, but remember if u wanna be added to this silly little thing you need to hand in an essay (more like a cute lil paragraph) tellin' me what you thought! And also ask. Duh. BUT YA GOTTA DO BOTH!~

@anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @slut4supersoldiers @sinceweremutual @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin

I am sorry if your tag doesn't work this is why I hate tag lists tumblr always makes me manually type and sometimes it still don't even work...

As always, i'm always so grateful that you've given me your attention with reading, and if you have thoughts, i'd love to hear em! I always read your comments/reblogs too, even if I don't always reply. Adore y'all.

Next Part

[shurisneakers]

drabble night - could ya show us how bucket and miss villian are at one of tonys parties? thanks!!

gasp two drabbles??? yes because i cannot be bothered to check if they’re okay i am just throwing them out into the world like lil birds and expecting them to fly

Catch up with the rest of the series here!

"Target acquired," you say, voice low. "Sending data."

Bucky stares at you, champagne flute untouched in his hand.

"This is not a mission and you're not James Bond."

"Partner is going rogue. I repeat, partner is going rogue."

Bucky gives a short wave to some random celeb who walks by. "If Pepper sees you doing this, we're both getting kicked out."

"I fuckin' wish she would." You sigh, leaning back against the bar counter. "Hey, how much do you wanna bet that I can knock over that ice sculpture with one bottle cap?"

"None." He knows you can and he does not want to see you try.

"Ugh." You eye the crowd who were too sophisticated to start a game of King's Cup. "Bucky, no offence, but this is so fucking boring."

"Why d'you think I hate them so much?" he murmurs, raising the flute to his lips. "Nearly strangled myself with the curtain chord last ti-"

"Hey guys," Steve has a smile on his face but you can see the pain of a few hundred 'good evening, it's a pleasure to meet you' run deep in his eyes.

"Steven, you fiend." You don't bother looking at him. "Where is the love of my life?"

Steve glances at Bucky.

He raises the glass to his lips. "She's talkin' about T."

Steve, in return, doesn't bother looking at you. "Made the logical choice of not showing up tonight."

"Fuck." You knew that. Just thought she’d be a great pal and not leave you stranded at this godforsaken parties. "Steve, how much do you wanna bet that I can knock over that ice sculpture with one bottle cap?

"None," Bucky cuts in before his best friend can answer. “The answer’s none.”

"Don't tell me y'all drank this place dry already,” another voice cuts in.

Bucky silently slides him a whiskey in silent camaraderie.

"Sam, how much do you wanna bet-" You turn to the newest member with shining eyes.

"Stop it,” Bucky interrupts. “No one’s betting on anything.”

"Well, would ya look at that? I collected the whole bunch." You grin at them, dismissing Bucky’s grumpiness. "Hello, boys."

"Tony's gonna notice," Steve says, but he doesn't look too bothered.

“Maybe we’ll finally get kicked out,” Sam raises.

“That’s what I said.” You nurse your temples. “Why am I even here? I’m evil.”

“Only on the weekends,” Bucky reminds.

“It’s Friday night, I turn evil in-” you glance at the clock in the corner of the room -”thirty three minutes.”

“Like an insufferable Cinderella.”

“I like that take on it,” you agree, staring out at the crowd.

It doesn’t seem to be thinning any time soon, but it’s awfully addicting to look at. Glittery and shimmery, full of laughs and false benevolence. Waiters darting about gracefully with trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres which Bucky had obnoxiously pronounced as ‘horse divorce’ every single time he saw them.

Like now.

“Horse divorce,” he says.

“Shut the fuck up,” you reply.

Tony does a double take at the sight of four of you, gazing out to the sea of people like you’ve been hypnotized. He backtracks almost immediately and sharply, not exactly thrilled when your eyes slowly trail back to him.

"God didn't give you pretty faces to just be wasting it like this,” he deadpans. “Why the fuck are all of you standing here?"

Steve sighs. “Well, it was good while it lasted.” 

“That’s right, go mingle,” Tony chirps as Steve pushes himself away from the counter. “You too, Wilson. People oughta meet their new Captain ‘Murica.”

Which left you and Bucky, both of whom Tony tried to get out there but Bucky’s resting bitch face vehemently disagreed with.

“Don’t ever invite me to a party again, Buck,” you pipe up.

“Only if I get a chance to back out too,” he says, voice low.

“Come over to the sewer drain on 17th Street and I’ll show you what a real good time is,” you propose instead. “There are weekly fights where you battle a guy turned into a crocodile. They got snacks too.”

Sounds interesting. He might just consider it.

Bucky looks up the clock even though he has a perfectly good worn-out watch on his wrist.

"Twenty six minutes till you’re evil again." He glances at you. “Wanna go for a walk?“

"Fuck yeah." You lace your fingers in his and tug him along.

He can’t tell if people have started leaving, or if they’ve just moved away from the floor to better places. Either way, it’s not crowded enough to bump into someone, but just enough attendees to hide the both of you.

"Also hey-" he pulls his hand away for a second to fish something out of his pocket. "I bet ten dollars that you can, so don't fuck it up."

He hands you a bottle cap.

The expression on your face is devilish.

[uselessgaywhovian]

Nobody Knows I'm A Pirate™ Part II

We're back to piracy, bitches.

Okay so. Here's what's been up with Yara during her Extended Downtime Activities.

So many moons ago we had some character downtime. We had about two weeks in-game where nothing plot-heavy was going on so our characters could do some personal activities. Yara, having been told by Bree that she needed to figure her shit out, decided it was time to figure her shit out. So she had decided she was going to go make a shrine to Umberlee since there wasn't one in the area, bought some supplies and went back to the creepy destroyed tower on the cliff over the sea. Seemed like an appropriate locale for a shrine, despite how much of a dumbass life choice it was to just chill there alone for two weeks. Do you wanna get cursed, 'cause that's how you get cursed.

Well, she didn't get cursed. She carved a likeness of Umberlee and raised it near the cliff edge, looking out at the sea. She also put a fuckin' Glyph of Warding on it so if anyone tries to remove it, it will trigger a Spirit Guardians spell, which in Yara's case are spooky spectral deep-sea fish that do necrotic damage. It was an expensive moment of assholery, but I hope it pays off someday 😂

Anyway she finishes up there, at this point she's overstayed the two weeks this was supposed to take by a couple days, but it was important to her to get it done. Unfortunately, Umberlee did not contact her at any point during this, so she wasn't feeling sure that she'd actually figured any of her shit out, but she was packing up to head back to town...

when she gets knocked the fuck out

so the spooky tower has a sea cave underneath it which the Sea Princes used as a hideout. We had discovered this when we stayed in the tower briefly that time Orvo got killed by a dragon. The party also reported it to the local guard when we got back, so Yara assumed that the Sea Princes would have heard it was compromised and stop using it. But they didn't.

So they kidnap Yara and chain her up in their ship to take her back to the Hold of the Sea Princes. Yara has a problem with being chained up, after, y'know, spending three years imprisoned in the rowing galley of a naval ship. So she goes buck wild. First she tries to pick the lock using a thin sliver of wood she managed to pry up, but she's not Shamys with obnoxious +10 expertise, so she failed that. At which point the brain shuts off and she decides to brute strength this.

And my dudes. I got a nat 20 on the strength check.

Absolutely should not have worked, but our DM gave it to me for that nat 20, and she managed to pull the end of the chain that was bolted to the floor out of the floor.

So this cell didn't have any exterior windows, but it had a tiny window into the hallway. And down the hall there was a half-orc guard sleeping, so I decided to be a little shit and see if I could Command him to open the door. Sadly the spell did not go off, but it woke him up and he came down the hall to check on Yara.

Yara quickly hid in the corner out of sight to see if he was the type of idiot who would open the door to investigate further. He was. Unfortunately Yara was now stuck in the corner behind the door, so I tried to force the door into the guy and see if I could knock him off balance and get out.

Apparently I used up all my strength luck though, 'cause it failed badly. I only managed to get myself out from behind the door and lashed the guy with the trailing end of the chain, but he grappled me.

Pro tip, y'all. Don't grapple a semi-feral cleric who has Inflict Wounds prepared.

So I lay a third level Inflict Wounds on the dude and managed to break from the grapple and get out into the hall and up the stairs.

I would like to take this moment to remind you all that Yara is currently on a fully staffed pirate ship, out at sea. I trust you know what happened as soon as she got on deck and was greeted by all the other pirates who were alerted by the ruckus.

So yeah, wakes back up in the cell again. This time manacled at both wrists and ankles, with her hands extra bound so she couldn't cast spells. Now completely out of options, she spends the rest of the trip screaming herself hoarse.

We get to the Hold of the Sea Princes and Yara's dragged out and put to work in the shipyard where they're building more massive warships like the one Sybil showed up on way back when, feels like forever ago. Once Yara gets her voice back, she begins causing problems on purpose and basically finding out how much chaos she can cause before they decide to kill her for it.

Sybil eventually catches wind of this, figures out from the description of her that it's Yara, and has her brought to her.

The meeting was uhhhhh not as great as their first one 😅 While the first time they were both just glad to see that the other was alive, now they've both had some time to think. And since their last meeting, Yara was trying very hard not to think about the fact that Sybil works for the Sea Princes now, and they've been capturing people to build their warships... except now she's been one of those people and she can't not think about it and how this is all was very wrong by the moral code their old captain followed. (Their old crew was basically not unlike the Van der Linde gang on a boat, fairly nebulous about what the actual "code" was except for a desire to live freely)

So things were fairly tense, but they had at that point both received messages from Umberlee that they needed to find each other because she needed both of them for something. They talked for a while, trying to figure out what was going on, then eventually went to bed (separately).

And then they had a dream. They were both on a cliff over the sea, which suddenly crumbled throwing them both into the ocean. They sank deep into the water, which they found they were able to breathe. On the ocean floor, they found the god Procan in chains. Umberlee told them this would have been her fate, if Yara hadn't retrieved her trident. Something was happening, and we were needed to stop it.

Then we woke up, hacking up sea water, and Sybil and Yara made for Saltmarsh to meet up with the party. We holed up in Bree and Eoleo's house to wait for them to get back, and now next week we'll get to uhhhhh have some very fun conversations. 😬

Should be fun, can't wait, also now my tag for this campaign will be very incorrect because the entire party's about to know i'm a pirate instead of just Bree 😅

[h0wls]

k I've had enough uhhhh I'm tired of y'all. you didn't win I still think you're wrong and frankly a bit ridiculous but go off I guess

[dmclemblems]

When you see a “meme” shitting on Levin as a father yet again and in actuality it more or less shits on both him and Holsety in one breath. And then they fuckin’ drag SETY into it.

Like. Come ooon people. It’s 2017. It’s time to stop. And get. Your shit. Together. And like. Get the point of the last line in the game finally maybe. Or, well, apparently not.