#to show off genos' pretty face :P

[the-nysh]

The latest opm chapter aligns with the webcomic's ch106, finally setting things up for the upcoming Neo Heroes arc, and Genos gets his new body!

[foryoumyheroes]

Celebrity C-C-Crush

[Bakugou + Todoroki + Amajiki]’s crush has their own crush on another Pro-Hero.

A/N: 

I know that this is obvious, but I thought that I should reinstate that the “reader” is depicted as being in high school and all of their crushes are over eighteen. While they are nice to the reader, they are in no way reciprocating, pursuing, or even entertaining the idea of being with a minor. It is purely one-sided. Happy reading! 

Warnings: slight OPM crossover. 

Bakugou Katsuki: 

Bakugou probably spends so much time to get you to notice him. I headcanon that when he’s attracted to someone, he just has the urge to show off 100% more to silently tell his crush that he’s capable. 

Whether it be by teasing you more than others, shouting at you to fight him, or getting your attention by being such a tsundere he obviously puts in a lot of time and effort to get you to look at him, so when others are able to get you to notice them easily, he becomes pretty petty. 

That’s why when he sees you across the street over the weekend his eyes immediately follow your figure and a soft smile appears on his face despite the fact that he’s surrounded by the “dumbass” Bakusquad. When he sees who you’re with however, that smile immediately drops into a scowl. 

You are the complete fangirl/fanboy image. You’re stuttering and blushing as you shyly go, “H-Hi, Mumen...” You’re hanging off every word he says and you even hand Mumen a homemade lunch (Bakugou notices that it’s a reusable bento so you have to see him again). Bakugou nearly rages. 

What’s worse is that Mumen easily accepts your kind words and the lunch you made for him. And he’s nice to you??? Mumen’s able to hold a conversation with you without one of you getting annoyed?? 

“Heya, [Name],” Mumen says with a small smile, and Bakugou fumes. Why are is this second-rate Hero so familiar with you? “I saw you during the U.A. Sports Festival! Congratulations on getting Top Ten. I was rooting for you! I know you’ll get them next time.” 

Inner Bakugou is just screaming. Why the FUCK are you so uwu baby eyes 👉👈 right now?? What was there to blush for?? You’ve never blushed for Katsuki, and every time he steals a morsel from your lunch you always get annoyed with him, but you’re here giving out lunches!! The double standard!! he thinks. The audacity of this bitch!! 

Obviously the Bakusquad sees all of this unfold before their eyes, and they all glance at each other knowingly when Bakugou rants about “What’s so great about Mumen Rider?” and that he can beat the Pro-Hero “to the fucking ground.” 

“Maybe he has something called a nice personality,” Kaminari jokes and Sero snorts in response. 

RIP them ig. 

Knowing that you have this celebrity crush, Bakugou would immediately go to you the next day and start talking about how weak Mumen is, how shitty of a Hero he is, how he’s ten years older than you guys, etc. etc. 

Of course you don’t hear any of it. You insist that Mumen is a well-liked Hero in the community, and most importantly he’s nice. 

Bakugou nearly gags. Nice?? NïCë?? That’s all it takes to get to you? He spent all this time trying to get your attention and the secret was kindness this entire time?? Well, fine then. 

Tries to win you over by sheer Pavlovian response. 

You think Mumen’s glasses are cute? BAM. The next day he’s wearing his dad’s spare glasses even though they have different prescriptions. 

Mumen once saved you and got you [favorite snack] while you waited for your guardians to come? Every time he sees you he gives you [favorite snack]. Just outright slams it down on your desk without a word. 

He’s going to beat you at your own game. You think you can make Mumen these cute bentos? No bitch, he’s going to be making you BETTER bentos. 

He’ll even ride a bike to school every day if that’s what it takes. 

It’s clear that what you have for Mumen is admiration, and when Bakugou matures and changes he doesn’t mind you stanning another Pro-Hero. Once you guys are older and are in an established relationship he even willingly buys you Mumen merch and supports your obsessions, even if it is grudgingly. 

He tells himself that it could be worse. You could be like Deku and All Might. 

Todoroki Shouto: 

To Todoroki, your appeal comes from your strength and your composure, He acknowledges how strong you are and doesn’t see it as a challenge to him, so his admiration and affection for you is through the roof. 

So when you guys are walking down the street together and Genos, AKA Demonic Cyborg, crashes down in front of you due to a villain attack on the city, he expects you to stand your ground. 

Of course his first instinct is to hold out his arm to protect/guard you, but instead he finds that he’s just swatting empty air and when he looks over at your figure, question marks just fill the space near his head. 

You’re strangely huddled behind Genos with a large blush on your face and you’ve left Todoroki’s side completely. You’re clutching on the older male’s bicep with a strange nervous look on your face. 

[”G-Genos, y-you’re here!” you stutter uncharacteristically, and Todoroki’s head is calculating at the speed of light at your behavior. 

Genos barely spares you a glance as he readies another heat blast. “Be careful, [Name]. Stand back if you have to.” 

“T-Thank you...! I feel so much safer with you!”] 

What, is the only word that Todoroki is able to say. When Genos is done saving the day and leaves, the boy immediately confronts you about it. He’s blunt to a fault, so he has no problems asking what the hell was that while you avoid his gaze and poke your fingers together.

You look cute, he thinks, but your display is not for him. 

Obviously what he feels is irritation, because that was a side you reserved solely for this stranger, he thinks, but he’s more confused than anything. You never look at Todoroki like that.  

“W-Well... I just think he’s so cool and his Quirk is really amazing. His fire abilities are really something else... A-And on the weekends sometimes I see him at the supermarket and he helps me pick out groceries...” 

You talk about how dreamy it is that Genos helps you get the best bargains at the supermarket and Todoroki sets out the next day with his dad’s credit card. 

He doesn’t see the appeal of Genos’s actions, but if that’s what gets your attention, then he’s willing to try. He can do better than bargain meats. 

For the next couple of weeks your eyes absolutely bug out when you open the door to your house and see premium meat and vegetables are just sitting on your doorstep. 

He gets you the 7600 yen beef and this is Japan, the vegetables are expensive.  

When you try to get him to stop, he’s just like, “Well, do you like them?” or “Is there something wrong with the produce? I can return it and get you new ones.” 

You two end up going to the grocery store together on weekends because you try to physically stop him but it ends up as a supermarket date. ^^ Inner Todoroki is like take that Demonic Cyborg. 

Your celebrity crush encourages him to do better with his fire side. He watches Genos’ powers online and recreates the same power the older Pro has, since that’s what made Genos so cool in your eyes. 

High-key petty. He doesn’t throw away your Genos merch, but rather he constantly moves them around your shared home so your always taken back. 

Amajiki Tamaki: 

Of course, he thinks. Of course you have a crush on Hellish Blizzard. She’s prettier than he is, a lot stronger, more confident, if he were you he would choose Fubuki over Tamaki any day. 

She does so many impressive things with her Quirk and even though his own is versatile, he’s never able to recreate the feats that she does, so he has no hope of grabbing your attention. 

That being said, he encourages your interests and would find more excuses to talk to you without making a fool out of himself by talking about her most recent fights or about her in general. 

If you guys do meet her in real life and you’re just there freaking out because you’re her biggest fan, he’s going to be just standing off to the side like yea ;;; I deserve this. 

He does watch her videos too and maybe he would recreate some of her “coolness”? He would be revving up for a fight, and the climax of the battle is near, he’s about to win and he’s going to pull those witty “one-liners” to make you fall for him in a way that Blizzard does but then he remembers that you and other people are watching him and just ;;; fumbles. 

He made a fool of himself, he totally did. He’s a complete loser in your eyes, he thinks, especially compared to your Hero. 

Once you guys get together he’s completely over the moon, but thinks back to your celebrity crush and he’s like honestly? Even if he is the rebound, or the “placeholder” until you’re going to date Fubuki, because he has no doubts that you will reach any goal of yours, he’s fine with that. 

Or at least, that’s what he tells himself. 

He thinks his temporary happiness would be worth it. 

When you come to him saying that you’re going to be working underneath Hellish Blizzard, and you’re so giddy with excitement, he just gets so sad all of a sudden. His shoulders sag and shake and he sighs so deeply. 

“O-Oh... I-I knew this day was coming... D-Do you want to break up with me first? P-Please make it quick and painless t-though...” 

And you’re just like, “What.” 

He eventually explains that he thought you were just dating him for a while until you managed to date Fubuki and you’re just like ??? 

[“I mean--I like her, but it’s just a celebrity crush.” You grow sheepish at this point. “I-I do like her, but she’s just a figure in my head. I like you most of all, Tamaki!” 

“B-But if you had the chance you would choose her over me, right? S-She’s strong and cool...”

“But I think you’re cool and strong too, Tamaki!”]

If you get stronger and she’s still going around doing the “rookie crushing” rounds, Tamaki is the only person strong enough to hold you back as you yell at her. 

[“FUCK you, Fubuki! I followed you for years! I swore by you! I supported your career--I talked about you nonstop to my friends. My boyfriend was insecure for years--!” 

“P-Please calm down, [Name]!”]

It turns out that Tamaki was the only celebrity crush you needed. 

[thejudgingtrash]

hello mel i Love You

HELLO DIL I LOVE YOU EVEN MORE!!!

You had me SCREAMING! Criminal genius/Detective Annabeth is my new hyper fixation, I fucking swear T_T

My brain went OVERBOARD with this! It’s super long! Please enjoy!!

(I’ve withheld this story due to the current political climate and I still feel sorta a way. But if reading about the p*lice triggers you or makes you feel uncomfortable, I wholeheartedly understand if you want to skip this one. Also... the story has some... a little bit of heat in it. Not much, it’s SFW. But it’s there <.<)

And: law enforcement, medical and science side of the pjo fandom, I doubt that this will make any sense :D

Also thanks again Torie @percyheartsannabeth for being an amazing beta!!

The Golden Age (WC: 9,5k)

i.

“Absolutely not,” Detective Annabeth Chase crossed her arms and shook violently her head. The blonde curls nearly escaped her bun. Her partner Detective Luke Castellan was surprised. He had never seen Annabeth reject a direct command.

“We need his statement, Chase,” said Sergeant Charles Beckendorf. “It’s his M.O. The drugs, the paintings. Either he’s operating from prison again or someone’s copying him. We need to put a stop to this nonsense once and for all!”

“Even so, we’re busy with the robberies in Chelsea.” Annabeth didn’t want to pick this case up again. The case that made her famous, the case that changed her life forever. For the worse.

“Stoll will take over that with his younger brother. Chase, you don’t have a choice. You will talk to Perseus Jackson. That’s an order,” Captain Dougenis commanded. He had the final say. Luke nodded, Annabeth did nothing.

“Don’t you think we haven’t tried to get him to cooperate earlier? He said he only wants to talk to you. The person that put him behind bars,” Beckendorf explained.

Fuck Annabeth thought. She did not want to face Perseus Jackson again. She wanted to forget him and move on. The looks from her two superiors said that they would deny her wish. Jackson was a cunning manipulator. She knew how he worked and what he was. A criminal. A thief. A criminal.

“When will I speak with him?” she sighed. A battle that was lost quickly.

“In two days. Should give you enough time to study the case files,” Dougenis said.

Off to a great start. The sound of footsteps echoing in the hallway muffled as the prisoner was placed into the interview room two days later. He sat down and the cuffs fell from his hands. He rubbed his wrists. A little bit of freedom regained. Orange was a hideous color, but he actually managed to make it look good on him.

He and Annabeth were separated by the thin layer of the one-way-mirror. His sea green eyes scanned the plain fake wall in front of him. They tried to find her as he knew he was being watched. The piercing stare actually caught her eye directly. Annabeth sighed. He couldn’t hear her, but a smirk found its way onto his lips regardless. He knew her.

“You’ll be fine in there?” asked Luke who would stay outside of the interview room. He had been a part in arresting that monster. The condition that Jackson gave them was that he wanted to speak with Annabeth – alone. Annabeth nodded. Then she stepped into the small room. Tension laid in the air.

Four years had passed since he had been locked up. Perseus looked good. His hair was grayer, the beard had been trimmed recently. He looked like he exercised on a regular basis. Annabeth’s eyes spent two seconds engraving the picture of his brown biceps into her memory.

“Perseus Jackson, 38, born in New York City, arrested due to art theft and extortion. Twelve years. You’ve managed roughly a third so far.” Despite her marvelous work, they never were able to charge him for drug trafficking directly. The witnesses had remained silent. Annabeth took a seat in front of him.

“Annabeth, you know me,” Perseus pouted. A contrast to his deep voice. “Call me Percy,” he winked.

Her neck felt hot. “It’s Detective Chase for you!” she hissed. Amusement sparked through his eyes.

“Okay, Detective Chase.” How was he able to make her name sound so… dirty? So profligate?

“The woman that I have to thank for my new cozy home needs my help now all of a sudden. The tables have turned. I like that.” And Annabeth did not like one bit how his mocking tone sent shivers down her spine. The way his tongue flicked. The urge of standing up and fleeing the room was prominent, but she was a professional and had a job to do:

Make Perseus Jackson sing.

“I need information.” Annabeth’s mouth was pressed to a thin line.

“Straight to the point, Detective, huh?” The attractive man leaned forward. “And what information do I supposedly have?”

“Your family never stopped your business,” Annabeth spat. Perseus shrugged and his fingers tapped on the desk. An annoying habit.

“Someone is operating with the same methods as you. Art gets stolen and drugs follow the leads. Either you’re behind it or someone else has been recruited to fill your place. We need to find that someone.” She opened the case files and showed him pictures of missing paintings and locations as well as new collecting points for drugs on a map.

“Oh?” Jackson made and tilted his head. He faked interest and glanced lazily over the pictures.

“I’m pretty sure that I don’t have the time in my precious little cell to run all of the things that you’ve been accusing me of. Everything comes at a price, Detective,” he then smiled.

Sea green met light gray. Annabeth swallowed. Memories came back.

ii.

Two years. Annabeth had spent two years on that fucking case and barely made any progress. The smuggling of paintings to cover up or be used as payment for drug operations just didn’t make any sense. Her partner Luke got undercover into the business as a small middle man, but the rules were different for women. Sexism ruled yet once again. Detective work had narrowed the window down and came to one person: Perseus Jackson. He was invisible. He was a phantom. He had been swallowed by mother earth, never to be seen again.

He was part of the Greek syndicate that ruled with an iron fist over the East Coast. Not even the Italians, Chinese, Egyptians or Russians had that much power. Chrýseon Genos. The Golden Age. A fitting name for a bunch of pieces of shit that found joy in ruining people’s lives and making New York unsafe each and every single day. Everything was coded and followed the basic principles of Greek mythology. After Konstantinos Olympianidikis, otherwise known as Kronos, died in the 1970s due to a raging war with his own brothers, his three sons split the legacy and entire empire into three sections:

Adrian Olympianidikis. Hades. Racketeering and money laundering.

Petros Olympianidikis. Poseidon. Theft and drug trafficking.

Zacharias Olympianidikis. Zeus. Prostitution and human trafficking.

All these crimes were tied to the Golden Age and the police forces couldn’t do anything. Witnesses vanished or remained silent. The little evidence they had left was either compromised or disappeared. Everyone in the Golden Age had their little specialty. Everyone passed missions and power onto the next family member in the hierarchy. So did Petros aka Poseidon do the same thing with his sons. One of those sons was Paris. His youngest. The only pieces of information that Annabeth had of him were a 17-year-old picture that showed Paris shoplifting with some of his cousins and a diploma that showed that he had studied art history. A picture of him as a boy and proof that he had a college degree. Wow. Compelling evidence.

Annabeth took one final look of the teenage boy. The picture had been taken in the year 2000 hence the quality of the security camera of Macy’s being complete shit. Despite seeing a long mop on his head and awfully baggy clothes there was next to nothing that was useful for Annabeth in the year 2017. Hell. Who knew what Jackson looked like now as a grown man? The probability of him running around like in the early 2000s was next to none.

“And?” Annabeth asked Luke as he returned from a meeting in the syndicate.

“Poseidon is willing to speak to you,” her blond colleague nodded. The scar under his eye had proved his loyalty. A near fight for life and death. The other person had remained in the hospital for a while but was fine and dandy by now according to Luke.

“Okay.”

“Only you. Not anyone else. I’ll drive you.” Annabeth nodded.

The townhouse in the Meatpacking District did not look much like most of the houses in the area. The real luxury laid within. The house was filled with two kinds of people: security guards and young models. Annabeth felt uncomfortable and underdressed as she was following a young girl’s lead. Barely a woman. Not only did Poseidon enjoy his life at the fullest, no, he was also rich as fuck. Young women served drinks and cooked in the kitchen. Bikinis, shorts and cocktail dresses so short that they nearly gave Annabeth whiplash. A young thing named Lacy brought Annabeth to the garden where a mini pool party was going on at its fullest.

Despite being in his 80s, Poseidon looked good. He looked young and was full of life. He looked like he was in his solid early 50s. The hair and the bushy beard were so white that it seemed to have been dyed. The tanned skin was healthy. A friendly face. The only indication of his age were the neck and his hands. Had Annabeth been into older men, she had to admit that she wouldn’t have said no to Poseidon from the visuals alone.

Poseidon enjoyed his book and the giggling girls in the background as Lacy caught his attention with the new arrival. “Ah!” he said, and his eyes twinkled as he put the sunglasses away. Girls were swimming in the pool or playing volleyball, music was blasting, and food was served.

“Detective Chase!” Poseidon stood up and shook her hand. A firm grip. He spoke with a soft Greek accent.

“What can I do for you?” he asked friendly.

“More like how can you help me speak to one of your sons?” Annabeth smiled.

Poseidon laughed. “Which one? I have many.”

Yes, you do you horny bastard the blonde thought. Poseidon had twelve sons in total. Or twelve sons that he publicly claimed. All by different mothers of course. All of them had joined the family business and most have paid the price with their lives.

Proteus. Triton. Khrysomallos. Pegasus. Arion. Polyphemus. Bellerophon. Theseus. Orion. Sciron. Chrysaor. Paris. More than half of them were dead, less than half of them were alive. Tryfon aka Triton, the son Poseidon had when he was 19, had been killed by his cousin Iraklis also known as Hercules in 1974. Orion had been twelve when he had been shot in the street by Antonios and Phoebe aka the twins Apollon and Artemis in 1986. Assassinated by his own cousins. The trend of getting killed by your own family members was fairly present in the Golden Age.

“The youngest,” Annabeth answered which made Poseidon laugh.

“Ah, my boy Paris. What did he do?” Curiosity swung in the words of the old man that referred to his son in his codename.

“Sorry, confidential,” Annabeth deflected and pouted.

“Of course, of course. Ah the police. Friend and helper. As you can see-” Poseidon pointed to the precious gardens. “My son isn’t here.”

Annabeth nodded. “Well, if you happen to see him, tell him to give me a call.”

She gave him her card. Poseidon studied it. “Of course, I will Miss Chase.” Another friendly smile.

The blonde nodded and then left. The smile of the old man vanished for a split second only to appear as one of his young helpers gave him one of the many burner phones of the house.

“Thank you, Drew!” he said before pressing a number into the small device.

“Yes?” asked the tired voice of a man on the other side.

“Can you explain to me why a certain Detective Chase from the NYPD came to my home to talk about you?” The old man sounded cold and amused at the same time.

“What?” Now he was wide awake.

“I thought the woman would introduce herself as your fiancé! Something that would actually make me proud,” complained the old man and nodded to another young thing that handed him a drink.

“I will take care of it.”

“Yes, you will.”

The line was dead.

And Annabeth continued to work for another two weeks without any other results. Her shift came to an end but at least the desk was clean. She didn’t drown in mountains of paperwork like Castellan did.

“See you tomorrow!” said Connor Stoll as she crossed ways with him in the hallway.

“See you!” Her mood had reached its lowest so far. It was time to visit her best friend since childhood and his bar The Grove. As soon as Annabeth stepped out of the police department, it started to rain.

“Great.” Her steps got faster.

Fortunately for her, The Grove was within walking distance. The pouring sky distracted Annabeth so much that she didn’t realize neither a black Lexus parking around the corner nor the footsteps that had been following her. The leather jacket and the blonde curls were wet but nothing that would worry bartender and owner Grover Underwood all too much. He had seen her in fairly worse states.

“What can I do for you, Annabeth? An Old Fashioned like usual?” His friend nodded.

“Have you eaten something?” The dark-skinned man knew Annabeth and her habits. Overworking herself and forgetting to eat lunch were her favorite deadly combinations.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind something to snack on,” she confessed.

Grover only shook his head but gave her a glass full of pretzel sticks. A delicious Old Fashioned stood on the counter a few moments later. The door behind her opened and closed.

“What can I do for you, sir?” asked Grover and looked to the door.

“Whiskey. Double.” A rich baritone. Pleasant to the ears.

Annabeth heard the squeaking of the barstool next to her. She turned her head to the right and nearly fell to the ground. A man sat next to her that was a younger copy of Poseidon. Paris Olympianikidis also known as Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon. The man she had been searching for since forever randomly decided to appear. Her talk with Poseidon must have sparked something and Annabeth hated the stupid rule about women not being in the family business unless they had been born into it even more. Precious time that could have been used for undercover operations had been wasted.

Perseus looked… good. Good didn’t even describe it. His salt and pepper hair had the same streaks in the beard. He had a chiseled face with a straight nose. Wrinkles around the eyes showed that he loved to laugh and smile. He seemed to enjoy his regular exercise; the way his shirt shifted whenever he moved a muscle made it seem like it was about to tear apart. His skin was of a rich brown, and his lips were curled into a devilish smirk. The sea green eyes were a direct copy of his father’s. He had won the genetic lottery. He had nothing in common with the shoplifting boy from the year 2000.

“A little bird told me you were looking for me,” he winked.

Why did her chest feel so heavy? Why weren’t her lungs functioning normally?

Percy had to admit. His father had been right. Annabeth Chase was his type. Her body had a beautiful shape from what he had observed in the past few days. A firm ass that did Pilates on a regular basis in a class not far from her shithole of an apartment. A heart shaped face and a slight tooth gap that made her look only more adorable. Blonde princess curls that seemed to be fairly taken care of with expensive products. But her eyes… an interesting gray that told him one thing: she had a flaming spirit that was blessed with intelligence. Or was it cursed by its burden?

“Your father,” she commented.

The whiskey was served, and Percy took a swig. He was pleased.

“Do you mind?” the handsome man asked as he grabbed a smoke. Annabeth turned to Grover who ignored the antics of the new customer. The bartender placed an ashtray in front of him instead. What in the fuck is going on?

“I usually don’t smoke,” he confessed and lit the cigarette regardless. Annabeth pulled a face. Where was the logic in that?

“And you do now because…?” The interest was honest.

“I only smoke when I’m having a good drink-” He raised the glass to Grover who nodded and appreciated the compliment. “And am sitting next to a beautiful woman,” Perseus winked.

Annabeth didn’t know whether she wanted to blush or strangle him. She was 29 and acted like an insecure school girl for fucks sake! She nearly laughed.

“So, I have the honor of finally meeting you, Annabeth.” The way he said her name. So smoky and dark. He belonged in prison for that.

“It’s Detective Chase for you!” she hissed. The criminal next to her only raised an eyebrow.

“Bossy. Kinky. I like it,” he smirked and enjoyed the redness of her face as he pulled from the cigarette and blew the smoke.

Grover in the corner tried to hide his laughter with a cough. Annabeth turned to her best friend with a murderous rage. “Annabeth and kinky. Yeah right.”

“Grover, shut up!” she commanded. Jackson next to her was more than just amused.

“Now I’m interested.” He tapped some of the ashes off.

“You really want to know the details of her love life?” Grover asked.

“Oh, I definitely bite,” Percy smiled. Yes please. Annabeth wanted to smack herself.

“Could we come to the more pressing matters?” the woman groaned.

“Sure,” Jackson shrugged.

He lifted his drink, she lifted hers. They met in the middle and both felt a spark immediately.

“I need information.” Chase cutting the chase.

Percy smiled. “Everything comes at a price.”

The fact that Annabeth had spent another hour next to him and had let him pay for all of her drinks made her stomach churn in hindsight. He even insisted on paying for the Uber that picked her up.

As Annabeth returned to her apartment, she started searching through it high and low in her semi drunken state. The stupid Greek syndicate had to have bugged her. Her already chaotic apartment was even more disheveled. At least she would be forced to properly clean up once the weekend hit. The worst part was that she found absolutely nothing.

What’s worse? Being wrong or being crazy?

iii.

“I’m pretty sure you got the wrong person,” Percy said and grabbed the glass of water in front of him. The interview room looked sad. “I know nothing.”

“I’m pretty sure we’ve got the right person,” Annabeth retorted and leaned forward. Her hand grabbed the edge table so tightly that the vessels nearly popped. He had to give her something.

“You’re the key. You were the blueprint and now someone’s running off with your legacy. And you’re more than okay with that?!”

“Mmhh,” Percy made. As if he had seen the most delicious thing in his life. The fact that he didn’t lick his lips was a wonder. Annabeth’s eyes followed his gaze right into her cleavage. Two buttons of her blouse that had been left open. Boys will be boys.

“Are you fucking serious, Jackson?” she spat.

The prisoner leaned backwards into his chair with a grin that quickly vanished. “It stinks in here,” he sighed.

Annabeth halted her movement. Her eyes widened in shock.

“No,” she whispered.

His beautiful sea green eyes told her one thing. Yes.

iv.

“Is this really necessary?” Annabeth questioned Beckendorf’s decision behind his back.

A visit to an art gallery. Perseus Jackson decided to become visible to the public eye all of a sudden and started to work as an art collector and conservator. He had meetings with clients, he had visitors in his studio and seemed to actually use his degree for something. Whether it was for the good or not was a matter of perspective. The criminal went to the gym daily; he even bought his own fucking groceries. Observing him had been nerve wrecking. Especially since probably he knew that he was being watched and therefore enjoyed every second of Annabeth’s annoyance. The detective felt like a true voyeur. He hadn’t done anything suspicious unless being a little piece of shit counted. Jackson didn’t separate his waste for an instance. Prick.

When Luke told her that Jackson had planned the opening of a gallery and proposed that they should go, the blonde almost laughed. A public event where no invitation was needed. A ballsy move. It seemed like Jackson really gave no fucks. Unfortunately, Beckendorf caught wind of it and now she was forced to go.

“I’m afraid so,” Luke said as he rubbed his temples. He really wasn’t in the mood for a fight with Annabeth. She was an opponent that just maimed you with arguments.

“What’s going on, Annabeth?” her colleague asked. “You wanted to find Jackson the entire time. You’ve worked for years on this and now you’re basically backpedaling. This is so not you.”

For better or for worse, Annabeth didn’t talk about Luke with her meeting with Jackson at The Grove. Something told her that she should hold onto the information.

“I don’t know. Just a bad feeling I guess,” she confessed. Annabeth didn’t know what would happen once Jackson was aware of her presence. And he would definitely see her.

“You’re not alone.” Luke patted her shoulder. “Grace, Beauregard and hell even that di Angelo informant guy said they would be present. Jackson must have pulled a big gig if even the Italians are interested in his shitty joint. Nothing will happen to you.”

I’m not so sure about that, Annabeth thought, but the only thing she did was nod.

A month had passed, and the day of the gallery opening was finally there. Annabeth stood in front of the building where soft string music could be heard from the outside and guests flooded in. Annabeth saw how undercover cop Jason Grace entered. He quickly glanced in her direction but turned around. Annabeth understood; he was a valuable asset who could not let his cover get blown over.

The blue dress that she wore hugged her curves tightly and the high heels that she chose made the detective regret every life decision that led up to that exact moment. Her soles would be burning the next day and it wasn’t like in the movies. An attempt to run in those things would be a one-way ticket to the ER. The wire in the dress didn’t make the discomfort any better.

“Chase, everything's fine?” asked Beckendorf in her ear. Of course, she had been bugged.

“Yes, everything is good. I’m moving,” she said.

Annabeth mingled with the crowd and entered. The blonde actually stood in awe and registered all the modern pieces. Pop art, minimal art, abstract expressionism, all sorts of different post-modern works that fought for space but harmonized wonderfully together in the rooms. How the fuck was that criminal scum be able to display works from Andy Warhol, Helen Frankenthaler or Jackson Pollock?

They had to be either stolen, bought for a large sum, rented, which was not the style of the Greek syndicate or, something that was Jackson’s supposed specialty, be forged. A waiter offered her champagne which she politely declined. As much as Annabeth would love to cloud her mind, she could not afford it on that evening. She had to look out for Jackson. The blonde made her first round at a slow speed.

“Can you see him yet?”

“No, not yet. Oh, there he is! With Chiara Benvenuti!” A known mafia bride. Chiara was surrounded by her bodyguards like always as she pointed towards a picture.

“Good,” Beckendorf breathed into her ear. “Perhaps we can finally raid this place.”

The painting was an abstract piece with lots of red elements. Blood that was spilled on the dance floor. Something fitting for a coldhearted villain.

“Of course, painting it was a task, but I thoroughly enjoyed it,” Annabeth heard Jackson say. The way Benvenuti laughed made her rage. Jackson joining her, didn’t make it any better. The fact that Benvenuti stared at his tanned chest as he had left some of the buttons of his shirt open, pissed the detective even more off.

Jackson’s sea green eyes shifted to the right and caught her staring at him. A pleased expression rested on his face and the smile could almost be considered to be honest. Embarrassed, Annabeth turned around and immediately left the corner. Fuck that mission. Fuck everything. Fuck that man in particular and the uneasy feeling that rested inside her heart. She saw Luke mingling with two people in black suits, they looked like they would fit the description of some of the Golden Age’s lackeys. Luke was irritated but there was no time for explanation. Annabeth needed alcohol, she needed it badly.

“Chase, what’s going on dammit?” hissed Beckendorf as he heard her frantic steps. She was glad he was unable to see her in that pathetic state.

“Nothing,” Annabeth lied. “Don’t want to blow cover.”

Fortunately, another waitress was making her rounds and Annabeth grabbed a glass which she nearly inhaled. She was wandering through the gallery and tried to figure out her next steps. Too little, too late.

“You left me waiting. Good evening, Detective.”

Annabeth almost let the glass fall as she heard his deep voice behind her and felt his large hand around her waist. A scent of musk and fresh sea breeze crawled into her nose. The grip wasn’t extremely tight, but it was clear that Perseus Jackson had no intention of letting her go.

“Fuck!” hissed Beckendorf into her ear. It was too early to storm the place. They had nothing in their hands against Jackson.

“You have quite the collection,” Annabeth complimented him.

“Thank you, love.” She punished him with a sour look that made his grin only widen.

“Interested in buying?”

“If it’s real perhaps.”

“Oh, my dear Annabeth, everything is real.” The warmth of his hand spread throughout her entire body. Her glass was empty, and he gave it to one of the lackeys.

“Mister Olympianidikis,” the boy nodded and ran off with it immediately. Oh, the power of someone in the higher hierarchical position of a crime syndicate.

Jackson accompanied her through the gallery and showed her his favorite pieces.

Annabeth could picture Beckendorf walking up and down in the small van, nearly losing his shit at the man babbling about oil colors or frameworks that he or other painters used. Jackson was hindering them on purpose. Something was going on.

“There’s something I want to show you. Follow me.” He took her hand and walked to a hidden niche. Jason Grace who stood in the corner and spoke to a woman eyed them with suspicion.

A white door was there with the words Emergency Exit engraved on it. A cold and naked hallway was in front of them. Lights were off and the moon was the only orb that illuminated the place. They were alone.

“And what are you supposed to show-” Jackson cut her off. With a brutal kiss.

A spark that set the entire place in flames. Annabeth did the one thing she was not supposed to: not use her intelligence. Her arms automatically wrapped themselves around his neck as she fiercely kissed him back. Their lips fought a battle against their lungs, and they dived into each other again and again. Taste. That was all they thought.

Percy pulled away from Annabeth. She was beautiful. Her citric smell was divine. The delicate updo was no more. The lipstick was smeared. Her lips trembled and there was something else written in her eyes. Lust. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. A wild look was on his face. He kissed her again. He held her close to his body and pressed her against the wall.

Annabeth felt how one of his hands slid underneath the dress. Did Annabeth exchange the boy shorts for a thong in the last minute? Yes, she did. Did she regret that decision? No, she did not. But his hands had a different goal in mind. The yanking made her shriek into his mouth. A solid welcome for his tongue. The wire underneath her dress was no more. Only then did he place his tight grip on her ass.

Oh, two can play this game Annabeth thought and grabbed the wire that stuck out of his collar.

“Guess that no one’s listening in on us anymore,” Percy commentated.

“It seems like it,” Annabeth agreed. A calm before the storm. A storm that broke loose as they kissed each other again. Percy’s lips wandered.

“Who told you to waltz in this place with this fucking dress?” He claimed her neck with kisses. His beard tickled her. “You look perfect!”

Annabeth wished she could retaliate the compliment. Percy looked fairly handsome in the beige suit, but her brain was short circuiting and only focused on not moaning too loudly and enjoying the feeling of being pressed against him. The probability of her colleagues rushing in that compromising situation was way too high.

Percy broke the kiss off for good. He made a move towards the staircase. A foot was set to the lower step. “Come with me!” His hands reached out for her.

Annabeth was panting. Heart or sanity who would win? Annabeth made one decision that would seal her fate forever. She took his hand and the unlikely pair fled out of the building.

As soon as they opened the backdoor, Annabeth heard a frantic scream for her name. There was no turning back now. A black car was waiting for them in the hidden alley. It looked like Castellan didn’t do his homework properly and had received the wrong plans of the building to study.

Percy held the door open for her and she slipped into the limousine. Percy followed. “Leo!” he barked. The vehicle moved with screeching tires and drove through a garage which led to a tunnel that Annabeth had never seen. She stopped paying attention to it as Percy claimed her lips yet again.

The car ride was a blurry memory. They entered another garage which was when the car stopped. “We’ve arrived,” announced the chauffeur.

Percy nodded to the front and then exited the car. He reached out for Annabeth and helped her out of the car. “Where are we?” she asked as they entered an elevator.

Percy pressed a key card against the board. “My home.”

There was no time left for sightseeing. They immediately entered the bedroom. His jacket was tossed aside, her dress slid to the floor. Both of them fell to the bed. Both of them never wanted to leave the bed.

Annabeth woke up to the wonderful smell of coffee. Her eyes fluttered and the memories hit her. The wonderful night she had shared with a wanted criminal. Her naked body was wrapped in satin sheets. The blonde sat up. Her pale body was sore and ached but in the best way. She didn’t remember the last time she had sex with anyone; work had been way too busy. She didn’t want to remember. What Perseus Jackson did to her would be fairly impossible to top.

Said Perseus Jackson entered the bedroom in nothing but sweatpants and two mugs. Oh yes, he did enjoy his daily workouts. “Morning,” he smiled.

“Morning,” she replied and thanked him for the cup. A delicious aroma took over the room. Annabeth took a sip.

“Mmhh,” she delightfully sighed. Two pumps of hazelnut and heavy cream, just the way she liked it.

“Yes, I did do my homework,” he laughed and drank his tea. “You aren’t the only people that study others. Was seeing me work out at least fun?”

“Shut up, Jackson,” Annabeth blushed. He laughed.

The cop finished her cup and Percy put it on a nightstand. “And what do you want to do now?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Something’s coming to my mind.” His light eyes darkened, and he cupped her face. Annabeth pushed the blanket aside, revealing her perfect self.

“That insatiable?” she laughed but didn’t receive an answer as she felt his lips on hers again. Her hand went on to grasp his black curls.

“Very,” he said as his hands roamed over her very naked body.

Putting the blue dress on again felt wrong. Percy wouldn’t have minded for Annabeth to stay the entire day at his apartment, but he knew she had a point when she said that her colleagues would searchthe entire city for her. Turning brick by brick if they must.

“I honestly can’t come up with a good excuse for my boss. You didn’t think this through.” Annabeth wandered through the modern apartment. It was bathed in light and had window fronts that showed her the entirety of Manhattan and the green of the Central Park. A dream apartment. The Golden Age had money, no doubt in that.

“Well… I actually have an idea,” Percy started. Annabeth turned to him with one cocked eyebrow and her hands on her hips.

“That sounds like I won’t like it,” she predicted.

He opened a cabinet and showed her the bottle.

“Are you fucking serious?!”

“Well as you’ve said. I didn’t think it through,” he shrugged with a goofy grin. It made him look adorable. Stop Annabeth. No time for that. Percy grabbed a cloth as well.

“Let’s just say that I never had the honor of being treated that way,” Annabeth muttered. But she agreed with him. It would make the lies that were about to come out of her mouth easier.

Percy kissed Annabeth one last time and brushed a lock out of her beautiful face. “Sweet dreams, Annabeth,” he wished her.

Then he pressed the drenched cloth over her nose and mouth. Her eyes rolled back, and she was embraced by darkness. Annabeth slumped down but Percy caught her.

Four hours later, Luke Castellan and Jason Grace made their way to Annabeth’s apartment, looking for possible clues. Both of them were fucking pissed. At Jackson, at Annabeth, at the entire fucking operation. The police force was frantically looking  for her. They got Paris Olympianidikis for kidnapping at least. If they would catch him.

Luke had a key to Annabeth’s apartment because they were  close friends. Annabeth had actually defied orders, nearly ruined a mission and drove him to the hospital as his wife gave birth three years ago. He had to find her. Not to make it even, but to know that his friend was safe.

“Look for anything useful,” Luke commanded. Jason nodded.

Luke entered the living room and Jason worked through the bathroom which was followed by the bedroom. He nearly slipped to the floor.

And there she was, sleeping like a princess.

“Annabeth?! Annabeth! Luke, she’s here!”

The next thing Annabeth remembered was waking up in the hospital. She knew that everyone was pissed at her. But Castellan had defended her for the stupid act of following a criminal to nowhere. Jason had seen where they left, and Annabeth thought the Sergeant could hear important information. Who would have guessed that the wiring would be cut off?

Examinations. DNA samples were taken to get a hold of Jackson. Questions. So many questions. A knock. Yet another person that wanted to annoy her. “Yes?” Annabeth sighed.

“Annabeth,” Beckendorf entered the hospital room. Annabeth felt patronized but of course her hands were tied. She refused to speak with her boss about a certain criminal. She covered up the truth and enjoyed living her life in lies. The young detective had no family who anyone could call. That made Beckendorf extremely worried about her.

The tall man took a seat next to her bed. “I’m not here to tear you apart, pretty sure Captain Dougenis had the pleasure.” Yes, he had. “I want to hear from you what happened.”

The blonde retold her vision of events. “I don’t know,” she sighed. “It was a trap. I can’t remember how I ended up in my apartment.” Annabeth spoke a little truth in her web of lies.

“The way our connection cut off as soon as you left the exhibition… I thought it was static. Then you were gone.” Oh no, he heard us making out Annabeth thought. She tried to suppress the panic that was bubbling up in her and was glad that Percy had discarded the wires. The technicians at the police department would have immediately figured out that there had been no static. She remembered almost everything. The staircases. The car. The apartment. The way he felt between her legs. The way she straddled him. The way he grabbed her throat. The pleasures and the cries.

Beckendorf looked deeply into her eyes. He knew that she had something to hide but was wise enough not to ask. The old man was one of the few people that blindly trusted her instincts in the department.

“Okay,” was all that he said. “I’m trusting your judgement.” She nodded. He was a kind soul.

“Take the next week off. You need the rest.” Beckendorf stood up.

v.

Percy saw how her delicate fingers grabbed the folder and closed it. The shiny object fell into his vision.

“I like your ring.” His sea green eyes shot up to her face. He saw a slight blush on her cheeks.

“Thank you,” she nearly whispered and played with the small white band.

“Someone very important gave it to me a long time ago. Someone dear to my heart.”

He blinked twice. She blinked twice.

A devilish smirk rested on his face.

vi.

Their affair lasted an entire year. The fact that it came to an end was saddening. But it was predictable. Star-crossed lovers from two entirely different universes that weren’t meant to be. Otherwise the balance of both of their worlds would crash, burn, and fall.

Annabeth had insight into the police work and Percy had insight into the Golden Age. That was the sole reason they barely saw each other in a work related context. They actually managed to live a fairly happy life outside of the working hours. They went on secret dates, they visited museums after they had been closed and reopened only for the powerful son of Poseidon, they watched movies together, they even flew out to visit his Hawaiian mother Sally who adored Annabeth. And the sex was amazing. A welcoming bonus. Both felt happiness for the very first time. Both felt love for the very first time.

The secret studio in his art gallery was one of the few places where they could be free.

“And here’s the Mona Lisa,” Percy grabbed the painting out of the box. He showed Annabeth some of his latest pieces that were part of his collection or creations. Real paintings and forged ones.

“Wow, that looks so real. An incredible copy.” Annabeth had visited France in her college days.

“The thing that’s hanging in the Louvre?” he winked.

“Tell me you’re joking.” The corners of his lips pointing up was all she got.

Annabeth laid next to him a week later. They were inside of her shitty apartment. Percy had surprised her because of course he could cook as well. To the question “Is there something you can’t do?” Percy only answered, “Change a tire and board planes because I hate heights.”

He might have been joking, he might have been serious. Annabeth did not care. She had returned from yet another demanding shift. This time her task force had hunted down one of Zeus’ kids. Aristidis also known as Ares. Despite being in his late 40s he was an annoying little piece of shit. The fat fuck tried to sell child slaves on the dark web and barely managed to escape them.

As Annabeth had entered her apartment, she was greeted by the delicious smell of parmesan that melted over fresh pasta. Seeing houseman Percy cook was not only a picture for the gods but something she could get used to. Annabeth placed her bag on the sofa and ran to the kitchen to greet Percy with a kiss. A passionate kiss.

“Aren’t-” kiss. “You-” kiss. “Hungry?” he asked between their kisses.

“Well, I think we can eat later.”

“Grover is right, you’re a terrible liar when it comes to food,” he joked. The Grove was another spot for them together. Once the customers left, the three would sit together and joke. Mostly at Annabeth’s expense.

Annabeth pouted and then kissed him again. The only thing that broke her silence was her stomach grumbling.

Percy broke off from her with a roaring laughter. “Eat first. Then we can come to the more fun activities.”

Annabeth pouted but Percy unfortunately had a point.

Now she was fighting against falling asleep as she laid on his chest and he played with her hair. He inhaled her smell. Raindrops were racing on the window as gravity pulled them down. The shower on the outside calmed them. “There’s a good reason why you never found me. Why no one found me,” Percy started.

Her tiredness was gone. Curiosity won. “The fact that my father uses me as his master forger is abundantly clear, right?”

Annabeth nodded. They didn’t talk much about his business ventures in the Golden Age, but she had pieced large chunks of the puzzle together.

“I want to leave my family,” he confessed.

“What?” That came as a surprise to Annabeth. Percy seemed fairly content with his life in the family business. He joked about it and enjoyed the high standards of life that came with the fruits. Then again, Annabeth had seen the dark shadows that followed the Golden Age everywhere they went. Blood, bodies, chaos, destruction.

“A rule that my father engraved into my brain was to be invisible. Live like there’s no tomorrow, but don’t forget to clean the remains of yesterday. The day me and my cousin Ethan were caught shoplifting seventeen years ago changed me. It changed us all. We were so naive, and felt so invincible. For normal parents that would have been a tirade and grounding. Our parents think differently. For Ethan, whose idea it was to begin with, it cost him his eye.”

Annabeth’s eyes widened. The cruelty of parents. The fact that the Golden Age had no problem with hunting their own down was still sickening to her.

“It didn’t matter. Four months in and he had been shot by the Russians, the Bratva. Nearly started an entire fucking war,” he sighed.

“Percy, that’s horrible.” Annabeth tried to see if there was any emotion left in his eyes. There was none. His eyes were dull from the wars he had seen. Percy was blind and used to the cruelty of the survival of the fittest.

“Annabeth, I’ve witnessed my first murder as a thirteen-year-old. At least I haven’t pulled the trigger myself yet. Not in a deadly way.” He stared at the white ceiling.

Her heart broke for the boy that lost his honest smile. “That doesn’t make it any better.”

“No, it doesn’t. It really doesn’t.” Percy hugged her tightly. “I want to be free. Die as a free man. Live in the sunlight and not in the shadows. Not in fear of getting gunned down by a crazy family member. My father spoke with my uncles. They gave me an impossible task. Once I solve it, I’m a free man.”

“Who are you? John Wick?” she joked. She wasn’t in the mood for cracking stupid jokes, but she had to uplift the situation or else the mental image of Percy losing his innocence as a child would forever haunt her.

“That guy is amazing; I’m not going to lie.” Percy managed to crack a crooked smile.

“And the task?”

Percy sighed. He wouldn’t have minded a smoke. “It stinks in here, the three of them had said. ”He turned to Annabeth. “There’s a rat.”

A rat? she thought. “Someone that betrays my family. They mix up our business and create chaos from within as if they want us to implode. I have to find and either obtain or eliminate them.”

Someone that betrayed the Golden Age? Whoever they were, they were crazy and suicidal.

“And what do you want to do once you’re free?”

“Move to Hawaii. Be reunited with my mother again. Find a woman,” he looked at her and grinned. “Marry her, pop out a kid or three. Be an artist.”

Silence. Annabeth was speechless. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that and being a part of that,” she whispered.

Percy only kissed her.

Another month later. The fact that Percy disappeared around her birthday upset her, but that was life. He had been in Los Angeles for a gig. Which gig exactly she did not ask. Was it a legal gig? Highly debatable. It had something to do with the rat. That was all that he told her.

A small package got sent to her and she was curious to see what it was. No sender. Carefully she opened it. A small ring box was in there. Tiffany’s & Co.

A card was attached to the box. Happy Birthday, Princess – P.

“Oh no…” Annabeth opened the little box. The ring had a small silver band that was covered in small diamonds. Her jaw dropped. The ring was beautiful. And it was meant to be for her?

Annabeth put it on. It sat perfectly on her ring finger. Annabeth looked at the box again. It had a code on it. The detective grabbed her phone and searched for the ring.

“WHAT THE-”

Perseus had spent fifteen thousand dollars for that little piece of jewelry.

“No…” she cried. How could he have spent so much money on her?

Annabeth ran into her bathroom and shoved a loose tile aside. She used that little space to hide something. That something was the burner phone that Percy had given her so that they could always stay in contact. Annabeth called him.

“And?” he asked.

“PERSEUS JACKSON!” she yelled.

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND?!”

“Why? Don’t you like the ring?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I love it. We have to talk about the price.” Her left hand already played with the beautiful ring.

“Why? Do you want a more expensive one? Let me know which one, I’ll buy it,” he stated.

“What?! No! You’ve spent way too much on that ring! I can’t accept this!”

Percy laughed. “You can and you will. It is my gift for you. Happy birthday, Annabeth.”

Annabeth wanted to scream. Denying his gift felt so wrong, but it was the right choice she made.

“Once you’re here we’re going to have a talk. We have to return this!”

Annabeth could practically hear how he shook his head. “You’re going to like the ring and you’re going to keep it.”

“Fine,” she huffed. Annabeth accepted her fate and waited until the days of solitude would be over. Until she was reunited with her Percy again.

The year had passed. Then it happened. The day Paris Olympianidikis would fall.

vii.

“Cooperate with me, Jackson,” Annabeth sounded soft. He merely raised an eyebrow.

“Cooperate and we can make a deal. Better conditions in prison, a reduced sentence perhaps and-”

“I want out,” he boldly stated.

Annabeth stared at him blankly. “Pardon me?”

“You said cooperate and we can make a deal. That’s my end of the line.” Jackson leaned back into his chair again.

Annabeth was speechless. He had beaten her with her own game. She closed her eyes for a second before focusing on him again. Don’t let him get the best out of you.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He smirked as he loved to hear that answer. Then she remembered what he had said.

“You said it stinks in here?” she repeated. Annabeth eyed him suspiciously.

“Yes, Detective,” he truthfully answered.

“What does it smell like?”

“Colors, Detective.”

“Why?”

“You should be able to see it for yourself.” He scratched his temples.

viii.

They got him. They didn’t get him with drugs or anything else that would give him a long sentence. But they got him with one of his forges. The good old Al Capone method. If you don’t get him with the big guns, try to stick to the petty crimes. Criminals get sloppy. Especially criminals that do way too much in too many places. The meeting was over, and everyone cheered. Everyone but Annabeth.

“Shouldn’t you be happy? Hell, Annabeth. You’ve spent more than three years on this case.” asked Travis Stoll.

“It’s just…unbelievable. The fact that everything comes to an end. Goal completed and all,” she smiled sadly.

Annabeth dreaded her seeing Percy again. He was waiting in her apartment and probably preparing food for them. The sight of her apartment complex made her heart sink. Where once was joy, ruled depression.

“Annabeth, what happened?” Percy ran to the door as he saw her in her desolate state. The door closed and she told him what would happen in the next sixteen hours.

“I’m so sorry,” she cried. Percy just held her and hugged her tightly as the tears blinded her. He fought his own tears that threatened to rise. Their future, destroyed.

“It was bound to end like this,” he said. Sadness rested in his voice. But also, tranquility.

“No.” Annabeth shook her head and buried her face into his strong chest.

“Whatever happens. I’ll be fine. Most of the prisons and the judges are smeared.” He kissed her head.

“Of course, they are,” she laughed darkly. Knowing that he wouldn’t be subjected to fights in prison didn’t do much to calm her down. She’d rather have him next to her.

“Annabeth. I want you to arrest me.”

“No. Never.” She violently shook her head again and slapped his shoulder.

“I mean I’m already used to your cuffs, now’s the chance to make it official,” he grinned.

“Percy! Now is not the time to joke about our sex life.” They shared a laugh anyway.

“I have another wish. Move on, Annabeth. Live life to the fullest,” he whispered.

“Everything but that.” She refused to move on. How could she?

“Find an idiot, marry him, have kids and live happily with him. Do that for me. Please,” he continued.

“I want you to be that idiot,” she pressed and looked deep into his eyes. “I don’t care how long it’ll take. I’ll wait for you.”

He kissed her. Don’t do this Annabeth. Don’t give me hope he thought.

The unlikely couple hugged each other tightly as they went to bed. One last time. It didn’t come to Annabeth as a surprise to find his side of the bed cold and empty. His side. His side was no more, it was only her side.

Perseus spent the night and morning hours in the art gallery. He had one final piece to finish. He drank and smoked and cursed. The bottle of cheap whiskey nearly fell to the ground, but he managed to catch it.

The oil painting was a self-portrait. An anchor to the last few moments of his life as a free man that hid in the shadows.

The task force broke into his gallery. He had a cigarette in his mouth and put the paintbrush down as his lover approached him. He had a sarcastic smile on his lips which vanished as he registered the pain in her eyes.

“Perseus Jackson, you are under arrest,” spoke Annabeth with a commanding tone.

She put him into cuffs and read him his rights. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court... A glance at the painting he had been working on ever since he left the apartment.

Annabeth knew immediately that it was them. Percy in the painting hugged her but their faces had been cut off. She saw the birthmarks on her back and the accuracy of how he portrayed his hands on her hip. Percy’s final act of love to her for all of them to see. Unfortunately, all of them were blind to it. All of them but Annabeth.

The moment she was at home she ran to the bathroom and emptied her stomach. Gush after gush came out of her. Her mouth felt sour and dry, the teeth hurt and had an ugly yellow color, the tears that blinded her ran towards her nose. “What have I done?” she cried and looked at her pathetic self in the bathroom mirror.

Judgement day came eight painful months later. The judge slammed the hammer and sealed his fate.

Twelve years. Twelve years was the sentence. Perseus lost his coolness for one second. Annabeth’s heart broke in two. Poseidon who sat on the other side of the room looked like he wanted to shoot the judge right then and here and Annabeth would have gladly joined him.

They were robbed of twelve years together. Percy was put into handcuffs. His sea green eyes searched through the ranks until they found her gray ones. He blinked twice. I love you. She blinked twice. I love you too. The police officers around her almost cheered.

They complimented her for the worst decision of her life. An act that had destroyed her life. Her lover was gone. And a free rat was still out there.

The trail of memories stopped. Annabeth knew that Luke was restless behind the one-way-mirror. The talk had stretched into eternity and gave little information to the hidden detective, but so much to Annabeth. Percy had been right. He was roaming freely in prison. He was able to talk with his family day in and day out. And most importantly. He knew of operations. And he knew of his own operations the best.

Finally. There was movement in the gallery. Whoever was decided to continue the work of Percy Jackson was stupid enough to revisit the place where it all began. The rat would be caught in a trap.

“NYPD PUT YOUR - no.” Annabeth had the gun pointed at him. But she couldn’t believe it. The rat. The rat that had cost her four years of their life.

“I’m sorry, Annabeth,” he sadly smiled. Then he pointed his gun at her.

A shot.

Annabeth had closed her eyes. The bullet didn’t hit her. It had hit him as Luke Castellan had fired a warning shot into the abdomen. The detectives moved to him.

“Call an ambulance!” yelled Annabeth to the cops that flooded the place. He laughed on the floor as he bled.

Jason Grace. Secret son of Zacharias Olympianidikis also known as Zeus. He not only wanted to act in revenge as Percy’s brother Sciron had killed his older sister Thalia. He wanted to spite him and take over his businesses as well. The money and the gold. The cars and fame. In his twisted mind he was able to run the syndicate and destroy it at the same time. It was over.

Annabeth saw as the ambulance drove off. Percy scratching his temples as an indication for the glasses and his talk about colors to point to the gallery would be his ticket to freedom. Hopefully.

ix.

It was the first time that Percy had seen the sun as a free man again. He left prison with the clothes he entered. The deal with the district attorney went smoothly although the old man would have rather wrung the half-Greek’s neck.

A black car drove up to the prison. Two people exited the car.

“Mom? Dad?”

Sally and Poseidon hugged their free son tightly.

“You are stupid!” cried Sally. “Both of you!”

Father and son winced. That was Sally Jackson for them.

x.

Quitting her job had been freeing. She had made the decision about half a year ago. Annabeth wanted to see something new. Experience something new. She was on the way to the small airport. The day was sunny and warm. A new day to start a new chapter in her life.

Annabeth arrived. “You can stop hiding, we aren’t being followed,” she laughed.

Percy yawned in the backseat. “I was sleeping,” he excused himself.

“Of course, you were.” She rolled her eyes and smiled into his reflection in the rearview mirror.

Her colleagues were upset, especially Luke, but it had to be. She had to quit for her own sanity. Beckendorf would check up on her and then see who she was with and connect the dots. But he would be wise enough not to contact her, not to rat her out. He would be happy about the fact that she had found love.

They would live with Sally and her little family for a while before they would buy their own house. The private jet that Zeus had given them would bring them to Hawaii undetected. A small sorry as the son of Zeus had caused a lot of trouble in the family. At least Jason was still alive.

Annabeth stopped the car and turned to Percy.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” she grinned. A delicate kiss was shared.

A golden age was truly upon them.

The End

Ummm... I... I think this might be a poppin feature fic? I have still many ideas and many things could be fleshed out...? Help?

BUT THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THE SUGGESTION DIL OMFG ILY!

All Cookout Fics

Cute/Cursed Cookout Writing Prompts

[onepunchmiss]

OPM s2e12 Live Blog

“The Wiping of the Disciple’s Butt”

The season finale. I’m nauseous. Lets begin. 

As always, I’m watching from the perspective of someone who has read the manga and webcomic. 

Right where we left off. Again I love the music. I’m just like, really calm right now actually. hhhhhhhhhhhokay. OOF oh god all the crunching sound effects oh no, this is already so weird watching Garou get his ass handed to him since he’s pretty much curb stomped every other hero in battle thus far, or at the VERY LEAST avoided taking so many hits. This. is so uncomfortable to watch. WOAH ????? THESE SHOTS WERE ONLY THERE FOR A SPLIT SECOND BUT??? HOLY SHIT???

GAROU’S HAIR OH MY GOD 

Oh god oh god Bang is relentless this hurts please stop guys GUYS PLZ  HAS NO ONE REALISED THAT NOT ONE HERO HAS DIED CMON PLZ IT HURTS calm down stop trying to kill him plsplspls OH

THIS 

IS WHY

WE STAN GAROU

HE SAYS FUCK DEATH HOW ABOUT I JUST GET STRONGER INSTEAD QUE EPIC THEME MUSIC

oh god damnit him legit running on all fours right there just looks goofy tho F “preposterous style” Bang you aint lying asdfghjkl really though OH MY GOD EVERYONE IS DRAWN SO BEAUTIFULLY THIS IS SO BLESSED 

WAIT 

NO OPENING THEME???????????????????? WHAT?????????????????????? WHY????????????????????????? ONE, I WANTED TO SEE THE CHIBI OF THE WEEK AND 2 

I WASNT PREPARED FOR MY FAVORITE DOPEY BIRD MAN THE FUCK PHOENIXMAN PLS NO ILY I know people hate him a lot but I just really dig how he feels like a fleshed out character compared to most other monsters, like he’s legit lookit him being all smart and stuff plz I just,,,,,,,,,,,, want to hug dumb fluffy birb ;-;

Woah again I’m being blown away by the animation??? Garou getting smacked around is really fluid and this just looks really cool in general?????

FUCK I CANT DO FLASHBACKS MAN JUST HEARING THE KID VOICE MAKED MY STOMACH LURCH OH NO 

OH NO I SCREAM OH NO I CANT OH NO GIMME 5 MINUTES PLEASE I CANNOT BBY NO I FORGOT ADULT GAROU IS IN THE FLASHBACK WATCHING THIS TIME PLS NO 

LIKE???????? I got kinda a comedic vibe watching him comment on it in the manga but the slow music and shit is just FUKKIN ME UP RIGHT NOW I HATE IT THANKS IT HURTS

oh god his face he has the seething thousand mile stare of quiet rage and its burning a hole STRAIGHT THROUGH MY ENTIRE BEING “But me I was the loner kid. Always gloomy and without friends” STOP. YOU STOP THAT RIGHT THIS INSTANT. IM CRYING AT U RIGHT NOW STOP

NO DONT HOLD HIM LET HIM GO S T O P OR SO HELP ME i can’t watch this what the fuck “I was always the loser” SHIT this legitimately hurts me “I dont want to be the monster anymore” GArou hey did you hear that part?? hEY GAROU DID YOU HEAR YOURSELF THERE??? 

WHAT DID I SAY WHAT THE F DID I JUST SAY STOP HOLDING HIM STOP STOPPIT  THE HELL MAN What if……….. I just go BACK IN TIME AND ADOPT BB GAROU CAN I DO THAT IS THIS POSSIBLE IS THIS ALLOWED ? ?? ?

oh my god it keeps getting worse. I mean. I already knew garou was being disproportionately reprimanded for what he supposedly did, but watching this scene just fucking kicked me in the teeth. As if my stomach wasn’t already in knots. The fuck . why does this hurt so much more watching than reading the frustration in seeping into me ffffff.

This looks really cool but, i can barely focus on that because im pretty much being exsanguinated on the floor over here by this whole sequence look at him crying. do it for me cause I sure as hell can’t 

“I want to strike a blow for the little guy”

Fukkin GETTEM GO GETTEM 

HOLY SHIT HIS VA IS GOING T F OFF 

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH LOOKIT HIM ILY SO MUCH SAVE THE DAY BIRB SAVE 

ASDFGHJKL THIS IS SO INTENSE EVERYONE IS SO INTENSE I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS BUT HOLY SHIT FUCK IM SCREAMING GAROU IS SCREAMING BANG AND BOMB SCREAMING GENOS AND EVEN PHOENIXMAN EVEN THE MUSIC IS SCREAM WE ALL JUST SC R E M

OH MY GOD AND THE LITTLE HEAD NOT GENOS AND BANG GIVE EACHOTHER SAVING THE HEROES OH MY GOD OH FUCK AND THE WAY THEY ANIMATE BANG JUMPING AROUND IS DOPE AS HELL AND ALSO HOLY SHIT ELDER CENTIPEDE I MISSED THE UNSETTLING SMOOTH CG LIKE ANIMATION FOR THE CENTIPEDES EVERY CELL IN MY BODY IS JUST SCREAMING RN I AM OVERLOAD HELP 

Garou flailing in the air in Phoenixman’s grip is … really adorable oh my god. “It’s your fault for not finishing them” ooooooo that shut him up didn’t it oof. Also nice cameo by Tatsumaki there 

ASDFGHJKL THE MUSIC AGAIN I LOVE IT I LOVE THEM LOOK AT THEM OH MY GOD 

THIS IS SO BAD ASS

EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS SO BADASS

Genos’s eye static, The brother’s fists swirling, THE FUKKIN CARAPACE SHATTERING 

THIS FIGHT IS SO WILD MY COMPUTER CANT EVEN TAKE IT. ITS GLITCHING AND FREEZING UP HOLY SHIT

oh god ok the face coming out of the face was pure nightmare fuel alright then

WAIT

I FORGOT GENOS IS A SELF SACRIFICING DUMBASS. NO IM NOT READY GENOS YOU DOOF LISTEN TO KUSENO LISTEN TO HIM 

oh no 

oh no

im crying oh no

this animation is beautiful first of all and the music like im just here this is where I’m at and I’m crying oh no 

He’s an angel. A literal angel. Look at that and tell me he doesn’t look like a fucking angel in the sky with the rays of light casting shadows around him. 

Genos you are too good and pure for this world but that DOESNT MEAN TRY TO GET YOURSELF KILLED 

Shit they really made it look like he was gonna self destruct there for a second which MADE HIS LAST STAND EVEN MORE INTENSE OH MY GOD SWEETHEART Y’all ever get into a show because you keep seeing one character that catches your interest, and you keep seeing them pop up on your dash or wherever until you finally decide ‘well fuckit, this is the asshole that’s gonna get me to finally watch the show’, cause you’re already invested in them anyway? Genos did that for me with OPM. If this fool didn’t exist Who knows how long it would’ve taken me to get to watching OPM, if ever. And shit like this is why I STILL love him. I usually move on to new faves 90% of the time but nope. Genos earned his spot and is keeping it. Look at this insane shit. My heart. Uhg

Enough gushing asdfghjkl ok but Genos, you just went INTO THE DAMNED THING’s STOMACH,,,,, and you’re SURPRISED that there’s STOMACH ACID?? But real talk. What the EVERLONG FUCK is that thing’s insides made out of? How did it NOT DIE. the FuCK

asdfghjkl Phoenixman’s chuckle???? I love 

Oh Bang no, this is wrenching my heart like I know that he doesn’t actually use his power but its built up so intensely like,,, would he be ok if he did??? and actually more concerningly since it even WAS brought up that he has some hidden true strength, will we EVER get to see that??? Oh Shit well when they word it as “All the power left to me in this life” then yeah, that seems pretty life or death ish???? THE FUCK 

Oh thank god comedic relief is here I feel like i’m about to have a heart attack my chest is so tight hhhhhh ok breathe WAIT THIS ISNT COMEDIC THIS IS BADASS AS HELL JEEZUS witht he flashbacks to the Saitama encounter and THIS LOOK

The Anime is really fucking with the audience huh??? Making it look like KIngs about to throw hands like???????????? OH SHIT AND THIS MUSIC IS DOPE AS HELL TOO IM JUST laughing I have so much excessive energy right now???

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHZAHAHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASDFGHJKLJHGFDSWERTGYHUIUJHGFDFGHJKJHGFRE THE FUKKIN SONG THEY BROUGHT IT BACK THE ULTIMATE SONG I GOT THREE NOTES IN JUST THREE NOTES AND I KNOW IM SCREAMING I GOTTA GO RUN BRB 

IM STILL SCREAMING FADFJSAGFJDSLKAHVFSKLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OUR MAIN MAN THERE HE IS THERE HE IS IM GONNA THROW UP 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

OH MY FUCK THATS WHAT THE OPENING SEQUENCE EXPLOSION WAS FROM OH GOD OH FUCK BEAUTIFUL THIS IS BEAUTIFUL OH FUCK OH GOD 

The REPRISE oh no oh NO OH NO OH NO NO ITS NOT OVER im not ready its not I cant no no no i dont want to press play cause if I press play it will end soon no no no Oh my god and at the end there isnt gonna be a title card for the next episode because THERE IS NO NEXT EPISODE no non o nonononon on on on ono no no no 

NO 

HEY IVE BEEN RIPPED OFF. WHERES THE FACE WITH HIS HAIR BLOWN BACK??? ASDFJKL fine I cant even be mad everything else was tooo  ofdbghjfshkggfhsjgbfhjka

KING WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT REACTION ASDFGHJKL W H A T 

WAIT THEY ARE DOING THE OPENING THEME AT THE END NO I CANT HANDLE SEEING EVERYOONE NOW OF ALL TIMES GOD DAMNIT WHY ok yknow what. I knew it would be king. I dont know how but i did 

Wha

wh

fkin cliffhanger no please no 

I.. I’m kind of at a loss for words. I’m. That’s it, huh? It’s really over. It doesn’t FEEL over. There’s so much unfinished business. Well, the only way to really neatly wrap everything up as neatly as S1 did would have been to get ALL THE WAY through the Garou arc, which obviously wasn’t going to happen, but this is not a great spot to leave off if we’re going to endure another few years hiatus. My hope is that, with biweekley manga updates, we should wrap up the Monster Association/Garou stuff (assuming it doesn’t diverge from the web comic too much) some time next year, and I’m HOPING that s3 is already being planned accordingly along side manga publications. So MAYBE it will at least be announced around that time 2020. That’s my wishful thinking at least. I don’t think I can survive 3 years. anyway

You could really tell JC Staff poured their hearts and souls into these last 2 episodes. Absolutely gorgeous, paced well, so completely satisfying and making every second of s2 worth while. For me, at least. I’ve already seen people still complaining and I’m just sorry they didn’t have as much fun as I did. 

Seriously, thank each and every one of you guys. This has been a wild ride, I’ve barely had this blog a few weeks before season 2 started airing (and honestly just got into opm maybe a month before that?), so I owe a lot of the success on the blog to the anime I bet. This was the first series I’ve never tried live bogging, and I honestly can’t believe that they were as popular as they were? Especially since I never have any idea what I’m doing but yall listen to me ramble anyway?? Yall are crazy thank you so so so much. Now my tuesdays are gonna feel really empty… next week is gonna be weird as hell. Though I’m gonna get mad nostalgic good vibes rewatching this season in the future in no small part from sharing my experience with everyone who's stuck around. I can’t say see yall next week this time, but, see you next season whenever it may be for sure.

[sansy-fresh]

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a oneshot commission for one @silverdragonms <3

tags: GlitchedDeath (Error/Reaper), Geno-Turned-Error, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Amnesia, Memory Loss, Soulmates AU, Roommates AU, Permanent Injury, Happy Ending

ao3 link

Somehow, this was even more awkward and uncomfortable than Reaper had thought it would be when he sent the ad out. Sure, living with another person you barely knew was going to be weird from the get go, he knew that coming into it, but… this crossed the threshold of weird and into supremely uncomfortable status.

See, he knew his roommate. Or, at least, the person his roommate used to be. Geno, good old Geno, with gnarly ass scars on his eye and always wearing the scarf his dead brother used to wear. He was a pretty metal guy, something Reaper could respect. He and Reaper had been going steady for a few months when it happened.

A car accident, that’s what he’d been told. Somebody hit Geno’s squat little smart car with a pickup and sent it flying. Reaper might have laughed if he wasn’t sitting in a hospital room chair, holding Geno’s hand and waiting for him to wake up.

Geno’s bones had been blackened by the fire that erupted from the burning car, his eyelights blurred and damaged from the smoke. He was almost unrecognizable, if Reaper hadn’t known every part of Geno intimately. And yet… when Geno woke up, he didn’t know who he was.

It’d been hard, watching his significant other devolve into tears and snatch his hand away, screaming for someone to come save him. Reaper had left, sneaking out with a shortcut back to the house he’d shared with his brother. The last he’d heard about Geno, when he finally let go of the hurt and asked, was that he was now going by Error and didn’t remember a bit of his old life.

Reaper had requested they not tell Error about him, and moved away. Anubis helped him move to a city that was hours away, far from the hurt and temptation that was trying to get his Geno back.

Of course, when he was still on his brother’s dime for paying the rent, things were fine. But Anubis had moved to an even farther away city, and while the two of them stayed in contact, Reaper understood completely when his brother stopped paying his rent. He made enough money with his side gigs that he’d have probably been fine, but it was always better to be safe than sorry, in his opinion.

He’d left the Want Ad for a roommate up for a few months, and in the end received only a single application. The handwritten letter for approval had been chickenscratch to read, but he’d gotten the gist. Rent was coming up, groceries were running low and his last job had been two weeks prior, so Reaper had picked up his phone, texted a quick “You’ve been picked to be my roommate.” to the number listed on the application, and waited for them to show up.

When Error showed up to his front door the next day, Reaper had been… very confused. He’d stuttered through his greeting, Error giving him a weird look as he explained that he’d been the one to send in the application.

Well. Since he didn’t really want to let Error know that they had a… history , together, Reaper’d had little choice but to accept. So Error moved in, and they’d studiously avoided each other ever since.

If Error remembered seeing him (being afraid of him) in the hospital, he never showed it, instead keeping to himself and always leaving his portion of the rent in an envelope on the kitchen counter when it came time to pay. Which, that suited Reaper just fine, since seeing what used to be his lover still ached deep in some untouchable part of his soul.

But of course, there were always pitfalls in the road. Such as, the weird moments where Error decided he wanted to be a part of Reaper’s life, whether Reaper wanted it or not.

Such as now.

“But no one else said they could go, right?” Error asked, a bit of a whine to his voice. Or at least to Reaper it sounded like a whine, but he could have been biased, after listening to Error try to harass him into letting him come with him to a death metal concert for the past hour and a half.

“You’re right. They did. So I figured I’d just go by myself, make a night of it.” Reaper said through slightly clenched teeth, packing his to go bag with a little more vehemence than the activity really called for.

There was a huff, Reaper’s eyelights headed for the ceiling as Error crossed his arms.

“I won’t be a bother! And you shouldn’t go alone, who knows what kind of people might be there!”

Reaper felt his entire body tense up, before he made himself relax. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just let him come along?

In the end he agreed to let Error come, if only so he’d stop looking at him like a kicked puppy. Error had happily, or as happily as he got, packed his own bag and a bottle of water and the two of them had taken off.

Of course, he’d known the entire time it was a bad idea. There was no way Error would enjoy the loud, intense music and vocals, or the push and pull of the crowd that surrounded them. Error was an introvert at best, and a social shut in at worst. There was no way he’d be able to handle all those people screaming lyrics all at once.

He was proven right, unfortunately, when Error turned pale about an hour in and hurried for the nearest bathroom. Reaper dutifully followed him, an “I told you so” on the tip of his teeth before he saw that Error was squatted down, head between his legs. Damn fool was having a panic attack, and it was the old, nearly forgotten love he had for him that had Reaper moving forward, placing one hand on Error’s chest and pressing him up against his own.

Error was so out of it he complied, Reaper exaggerating his breaths to get Error to breathe in deeper, breathe out calmer. It’d worked with Geno, and it seemed to work with Error equally, until the blackened skeleton finally breathed easily on his own.

They sat there, in the cold bathroom for a while, the music making the walls tremble around them as they sat in silence.

“How did I know you?”

Reaper’s eyes blinked open, previously on the edge of dozing off. He certainly wasn’t now, Error blinking back at him with a near innocence in his gaze. Reaper knew better, and answered accordingly.

“When, exactly, are you talking about? Cause I’m almost positive I never met you before you moved in, y’know, and-”

Error slapped his arm, turning to get up in his face with uncharacteristic anger. “You know exactly what I’m talking about asshole. You knew exactly how to calm me down, so you knew me before, now tell me how I knew you!”

Reaper sat, mouth open, before he gently pushed Error away and off of him. “I’m not dealing with your bullshit. Find your way back home yourself.” And with that he took a shortcut to the nearest bar, fully intent on getting wasted.

~.~

Shortcutting back to the apartment, Reaper was ready for a long sleep and a hard morning, shuffling into the dark living room and hissing when the light was suddenly flipped on. He glanced up from under his fingers, only to find a near furious Error waiting for him, pajamas on and arms crossed.

“You are going to fucking explain to me what our relationship was, or I swear to the stars I’ll leave and never fucking look back.”

Reaper wanted to scream. He wanted to lash out, wanted to hurt the person that had, albeit unintentionally, hurt him. But he was so tired, so exhausted, he just wanted to sleep and forget this night had ever happened.

So he waved Error off, hiccuping as he jerked a thumb back to the door. “No one’s stoppin’ ya. Go ‘head.” It would hurt, his Geno leaving again, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t survived it the first time. It’d hurt like a motherfucker but he’d survive.

Error stared at him, gobsmacked, before the tears began to fall, his eyes scrunching shut as he wailed, “JUST TELL ME!”

“WE WERE SOULMATES, OKAY??” Reaper huffed, all the air knocked out of him as he stared down a shocked Error. “We were soulmates. Ya didn’ remember me. Tha’s all.”

Error’s mouth hung open, gaping as he tried to make sense of what Reaper said. Then, without another word, he turned and sped back down the hall to his room, the door slamming shut. Reaper winced at the loud sound, hand coming up to cradle his skull as he switched the light off and headed for the kitchen.

Ginger ale was a balm to his soul, easing the nausea enough that if he laid down, he’d likely not have to get back up again. Sipping at his little cup of the stuff, he shuffled down to his room, pausing outside of Error’s door just long enough to catch the sound of muffled sobs before he moved along, wincing.

He settled on the edge of his bed, sockets stinging as he sipped at his ginger ale until it was gone, setting the cup on the bedside table before laying down. He didn’t know how to fix things, doubted Error would want to live here any longer knowing what they were. If he were in the same situation, he wouldn’t have wanted to stay, that was for certain. Even if Error did stay after this, things would be even more awkward and uncomfortable than they’d already been.

Reaper turned on his side, hiccuping as he blinked away the tears. It didn’t matter how he felt. Not when his soulmate was in the other room sobbing because he didn’t remember him. Of course, since when had his own feelings mattered?

Eventually, he fell into a fitful sleep, barely covered with a ratty sheet as he finally let the tears fall.

~.~

It was the light that woke him up first, the pressure on his chest second. Reaper blinked at the light coming through his curtains, cursing his own laziness in not just buying black out curtains like Anubis had suggested. He only noticed the pressure after it shifted, a puff of displaced air hitting his chest as whatever it was moved.

He glanced over, and was shocked to find Error laying next to him, a large pillow and a thick blanket between them, blocking any actual physical contact. It was so familiarly Error that for a moment, Reaper was unsure what was wrong about the situation.

At least, until Error’s sockets suddenly popped open, his blurred eyelight constricting as he looked up at Reaper. He looked scared, shocked, and most of all guilty. Reaper wasn’t really sure what it was he had to feel guilty about, except maybe pushing him the night before, but...

After a long moment of awkward silence, Reaper opened his mouth to say something, some sort of deflection, but Error beat him to it.

“I just… I felt safer in here…” His voice cracked, his hands trembling as he gripped the blanket that covered him from chin to toe. It was one of the blankets Reaper remembered Geno favored.

Reaper’s eyes widened, Error blushing as he glanced away, before turning his back to him, clearly intent on hiding away even if he didn’t get out of bed.

Reaper studied him for a moment, taking in the tense shoulders and trembling hands, and gave a mental shrug. “Okay. Just wake me up when you want breakfast.”

With that he turned over himself, closing his eyes and giving Error plenty of room in case he wanted to get out of the bed. There was a brief movement, then what felt like Error settling in behind him once more, sighing.

Reaper shook his head, but couldn’t help the tiny smile on his face.

[heroes-writing]

How about some head cannons of Saitama, Genos and Sonic doting over an s/o on their time of the month? Or if it's already done/you're not comfy with it, a sick s/o?

Hey! Thanks for the request! <3 And I don’t mind either way lol, a lot of people deal with really bad symptoms so it’s perfectly natural and it’s better to be empathetic! If you would like sick/flu/cold specific HC’s just lemme know!

Word Count: 1236

Saitama:

- He’s the only one who get’s kind of awkward about it, lets be real lmao. Thankfully it’s only during the first phase of a deep relationship. And it’s not that he doesn’t feel sympathetic, he’s just definitely out of his element in doting on others. Saitama has a way of ignoring issues that don’t concern him personally, and this may mean he’ll give you lots of space during your week. However, if you need him close, he’ll answer any text requesting his aid. He’s really chill and not really judgmental about it after the first: “Ehhh, WHAT’s happening to you?”

- His methods of doting on you are the standard fare. He ensures you have what you need! If it’s: Medication, sanitary supplies, or your favorite foods. He’ll keep his eye on sales to stock up on stuff ahead of time, and he gets irritated on your behalf for how expensive some of the stuff is!!

- If you’re the type to get lethargic, he’ll want to cuddle you, because he might not be used to seeing you so down in the dumps. It would worry him at first, but after a while of being so close together, whenever he sees you in bed with the covers over your face, he’ll know what’s up. He won’t say a word, but he’ll sidle in next to you and take a nap with you in his arms—(he’ll be sure to give you a squeeze and a sweet kiss every so often.)

- If it’s very painful, to the point where you freeze up and wince and writhe in agony—Saitama will HATE that he can’t help you more. He’ll try to enlist Genos’ help if that’s what it takes to make you feel better. And he’ll insist you take some time off from work or school; he’ll goad you into staying at his place and it’ll be very hard to argue otherwise. He can be very stubborn about your wellbeing.

-Also, if you are the type to get angry over little things, he’s pretty damn affable, and he’ll forgive and forget most misunderstandings lol. Lucky you! (p^-^)p

 Genos:

- Oh boy. He’s ridiculous.

“(Name)! Are you alright? Please let me know if you require my assistance. Have you added my number on your speed dial yet? Here allow me to do it for you! I’ve researched many forms of medicine on the market that may help relieve your symptoms. No, it’s no trouble! Please, stay sitting—I’ll get you want you need!!” -and he blurs into motion when he needs to write down new data in his notebooks about you-

- If you’re the type to be low-key about your monthlies... Either you suck it up or grit your teeth in order to get through it. Genos is hard to fool, and he’ll be able to deduce what’s going on. In the worst case, this guy has his phone in his hand ready to call an ambulance. Or worse, he’s looking up the Mayoclinic website trying to determine if you have some form of appendicitis. I would recommend being plain with him, even if he get’s rather ahead of himself sometimes, because calming him down gently is easy.

- He’s so on top of everything you need, and this is one of the most extreme ways he prepares to help you. He will take everything 3 to 4 steps further than Sonic or Saitama in his efforts to supply you with your favorite chocolate or sweets or whatever you like. He will even research upgrades and lavish you with gifts if you let him.

- In his less “extra” moments, nothing can beat the way his body is a natural heater. If you’re laying in bed or lazing around Saitama’s place when he’s not there. Genos will take to hover over you, watching you keenly with his black and yellow eyes gauging your temperature, heart rate, etc.

He’ll prop himself up on one arm, kind of taking a “prince waking sleeping beauty up with a kiss” pose. His other hand will gently whir and pulse with warmth as he rubs it over where you need him most. The cyborg will be your personal hot water bottle, and while he’s so close you’ll be able to pull him in for as many kisses as you want.  

- You may not feel so good about your appearance since you may suffer from bloating or maybe some breakouts, but never fear! I think Genos would always be the type to lavish you with compliments. And they’ll never be lies or fillers just to make you feel better either, his compliments are always about things that can’t change. Whether it’s about your kindness, your work ethic, your eye color, or the way your lips look so kissable to him. He’ll always make sure to remind you why he loves you! <3

 Sonic:  

- I imagine from his village there is a natural remedy to help ward off some of the worst menstruation symptoms, and it’s probably a hugely guarded secret that’s been passed down for generations. If he sees his s/o suffering, he will gladly gather the ingredients himself and make it for them! And if he’s serious about them, he’ll teach them how to make it for themselves.

-He will generally take care of them rather slyly, I think, as he doesn’t want to offend you or belittle your ability. Maybe if you’re laying in bed feeling the pain, you’ll feel a breeze over your skin, and he’ll be suddenly standing there offering you the remedy and a drink to wash it down. He’ll make sure you take it, nod his head, kiss you quickly, and vanish.

- He can be derisive about other people’s problems, but he is keen to stay on his s/o’s good side! If they have mood swings or are generally feel crappy during their week he is mindful and cautious. He will most definitely exploit any sweet spots his s/o might have about certain things in order to keep them in a good mood. Oh, this movie makes them happy no matter what? We’ll watch it. When they get mad, if I kiss them on their cheeks they melt? I’ll smother them in kisses then.

His eyes will be watching you carefully, taking everything in for his consideration so he can make you happy, safe, and sated.

- At the start of the relationship much like the others he is very blunt about it and doesn’t get grossed out. He IS the type to snap back if you get too testy with him. Arguments may happen, but at the end of the day, he understands biology is giving you a serious burden to bear. No matter how badly your anger flares at the stuff he says, or the things he does, he’ll kind of go stony and let it wash over him.

“Alright Alright, I get it!” He’ll say.

“Good!” You’ll snap and cross your arms.

“Good!” And with that usual stony expression he’ll wrap you in his arms. (Admittedly it might feel like a headlock.) Sonic is adamant about not fighting over trivial things, and he shows his undying affection in weird ways.

-Oh yeah, Sonic is actually a really good cook! If you need more calories to sate your hunger, he’ll probably whip up some real gourmet food for you! <3

[eldinkind]

@rayadraws​ Thank you so much for the request, Raya! ( ˘ ³˘)♥

This ended up being a lot longer than I intended, so the rest will be under the cut. I hope you enjoy!

Fluff/Angst Prompt #23. What’s cookin’ good lookin’?

The rich aroma of beef broth wafted across Saitama’s nose as soon as he made it up the first few steps of the apartment complex. Genos must have made it back early from his repairs. The bald hero felt himself smile. During these last few months he’d noticed the bubble of warmth growing in his chest, and any day now he felt like he was going to pop. Genos had become a constant in his life, and although his presence was slightly overbearing in the beginning, he’d proved to be quite the dedicated disciple, an amazing roommate, and a caring friend. At least, he thought they were friends. The blonde only ever referred to himself as Saitama’s disciple and even now, he still refuses to stop calling him ‘Sensei.’ He sighed as he unlocked the door and stepped inside. No. He was not going to overthink it. For the first time, in a long time, he was finally starting to feel happy. And I’m going to let myself enjoy it, dammit! “Sensei?!” He could hear something clatter in the kitchen. Ah. Probably wasn’t necessary to slam the door so hard. Not like he could really afford to buy a new one right now. “Hey Genos, it’s me. I’m home,” Saitama called as he struggled with the heel strap of one of his crocks. “Welcome back!”

The sound of metal feet padding from the kitchen echoed into the hallway as he placed his shoes next to a pair of Genos’ boots, boots that looked like they cost more than his B-Class paycheck. Geez, why did the kid always buy such expensive clothes only to thrash them with every fight? Saitama could practically hear his coin purse weeping from inside his back pocket. “Is everything alright?” Whoops. We can jump back on that pity train later. “Yeah dude, sorry. It’s kinda windy out and I lost my grip on the doorrr... Woah...” Saitama completely lost that thought when he looked up to greet his disciple, who was now standing in the kitchen doorway. “Did you get new... uh,” he gestured his hand vaguely in front of him, “everything?” Genos tilted his head to the side, eyes widening a little in surprise, before quickly melting into a soft expression as he gave a small nod. “Sensei is always so observant when I receive upgrades.” HOLY SHIT that was cute. Well, Genos was always cute, but this upgrade made him look just a bit older, and pretty. Like, really really pretty. That doctor of his must have made it a personal goal to melt the hearts of all of Demon Cyborg’s fangirls. Seriously! No man should look that gorgeous with such thick and full lashes and oh God stop staring already! “Ah. Haha… Yeah I mean, how could I not notice? But seriously, I hope you didn’t actually spend money on pants with that many rips.” Genos frowned slightly before turning and walking back into the kitchen, “Of course not. Sensei has been very wise in teaching me to not spend money so frivolously.” Saitama couldn’t help but smirk as he glanced back at the boots sitting in the genkan, before quickly following Genos into the kitchen. “Oh come on. You know I’m only teasing. Just because I dress like an old man doesn’t mean you have to.” “Saitama-Sensei always looks handsome in everything he wears,” Genos mumbled. “What was that?” “Nothing.”

“So anyway,” Saitama couldn’t help a quick peek at the contents boiling on the stove. “What are you making? Or should I say” –he nudged a metal hip with his own– “what’s cookin’ good lookin’?” Genos’ hand froze in the process of stirring what looked to be spicy beef udon. Steam began to seep out of the front of his hoodie and apron, Saitama just noticing that the opening was large enough to show off a metal clavicle and the tops of his chest plates. Not that he was staring. “S-Sensei thinks I look good?” “Uh. Yeah, dude. I look at this,” he gestured at Genos again, this time with both hands, “on a daily basis.  Honestly, it’s pretty unfair to your fans that I’m the only one who gets to see your sleepy face before bed, and how your eyes light up when we find a good sale, and how you cook wearing that god damn pink apron, or how you always get such a sweet smile on your face whenever something makes you really happy. Yeah! Like that one! Oh...” And pop goes the bubble.

That was A LOT of word vomit. Why the fuck did I just say all that?! Abort! Abort! “Haaa oh wow it’s...” he could feel the tips of his ears burning. “It’s really hot in here. I’m gonna, uh… gonna go open the window for a bit... yeah.” “Sensei,” Genos grabbed him by the wrist as he darted back into the hallway. “Please. I’ve begun to notice something and I have to ask.” Nope. Nope. He was not ready for this conversation. “I gotta open the... uh...” “Do you—” “Window! Gotta open the window or mold will start growing on the walls from all this steam ha! Can’t have that!” Genos couldn’t trap his hero in the hallway, but he refused to release his grip on the man’s wrist as they walked through the living room. “Sensei, do you... have feelings for me?”

Saitama went completely still as he reached for the sliding glass door, arm hovering over the handle. Genos didn’t have to read his vitals to know how much his heart rate spiked. He could feel his pulse pumping rapidly under his metal palm. It would be quite concerning if his sensei were an average man, but Saitama was far from average, no matter how much he tried to claim otherwise.

Core whirring, Genos tugged on his Sensei’s wrist until he could finally look him in the eyes and what he saw there was an expression he had never seen on that face before. Fear. Saitama actually looked scared, almost like a cornered animal. He has watched his hero face against the strongest monsters the world has ever seen, and yet this is the first time he has ever seen him look afraid, as if he wanted to run away. Had he gone too far? Was he making his sensei uncomfortable?

I shouldn’t have said anything! I upset Sensei! What if he –

“Yes.”

Genos almost lost his grip on Saitama’s wrist, but forced himself to squeeze harder as he stuttered, “P-Pardon?”

“I like you, Genos. At least, I think I do. I know I feel happier when you’re around. When you first moved in, I thought it would be a nightmare. You were so hell-bent on gaining my level of strength. Plus we’re two dudes living in a one person apartment, and I have lived alone for so long that I couldn’t even remember how to entertain another person.” Saitama let out a huff before rubbing a hand over his head, giving Genos a sheepish smile. “But, we got a routine. We go to bed together. We wake up together. We cook together and clean together. We go shopping together. You get so passionate over sales and we have a blast. At first I thought you were just trying to be a good disciple, but I could tell by the determined look on your face and how you kinda vibrate when you get excited. You care. You actually care about spending time with me and living in this shitty apartment. You care when people call me fraud. You care whenever I don’t get out of bed in the mornings. At first I thought maybe I just finally found a best friend or something, but…” His cheeks started burning now. “Then I started thinking about, uh, kissing you and stuff, and… yeah.”

“Sensei,” Genos couldn’t fight the grin on his face, “twenty words or less.”

WHAT THE?!

“Are you serious? I just poured my guts out to you and you really just –”

“Can I kiss you?”

“HUH?!”

“You said you think about kissing me.” Genos tilted his head forward slightly, eyes hooded by his bangs. “I think about kissing you as well.”

Saitama couldn’t help but gape at that. Even as he felt his disciple tug him against his chest he still didn’t believe this was actually happening. How could it be? But then synthetic lips were pressing softly against his own, and wow they were definitely a lot more plush than they looked. His eyes slipped shut as he was pulled even closer, a metal arm wrapping around his waist while the other cupped his cheek and tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

Steam ghosted over his tongue as he felt Genos mumble against his lips, “Sensei, I…”

“You know, I didn’t actually give you permission,” Saitama chided as he peeked an eye open.

Genos jerked his head back so fast it sounded like something cracked. “I… I’m so sor—”

Saitama stood on the tips of his toes, cutting off the apology with a quick peck. “I didn’t tell you to stop either.” He leaned most of his weight against the blonde as reached up with both of his hands to feather his fingers on the black neck. “Can I kiss you some more?”

He could feel the thick cords shift under his fingers as Genos quickly nodded, “Yes please!”

[cutiecrates]

Cutie Reviews: Gacha Gacha Crate Jan 20

Right after I began to work on my last review, this box showed up the exact same day <3< but maybe that’s good because look, I’m back again! This is also good timing because I bought a brand new storage container for my Gachapon as my previous one is way too full. If I was making videos I would show you guys my clean-up, transfer, and organization process of the whole ordeal I’ll be dealing with once I finish this. But I’ll be sure to include some pics with my next post for anyone curious!

With that, I hope everyone enjoys themselves~

One Punch Man Keychain

Our first item is this detailed keychain featuring 5 characters from a superhero manga-turned anime One Punch Man. These are by Takara Tomy A.R.T.S.

As you can expect I don’t know this series at all, it’s not really in my preferred genre. So besides some pictures i know nothing about this series, other than the fact the character I got is named Genos.

The figure is about thumb-sized and features a hard-rubber plate with the series name written on it. It’s probably hard to tell from the pic but the detail on this little figure is really good. You can see all these little creases and metal pieces on his torso, and his hair is nice; it even looks like he has earrings.

Initially I didn’t think I would keep this since I’m not into the series, but out of my 5 options I feel like this is who I would have wanted to get anyway, and he’s pretty cool looking. I’m kind of curious in learning more about him.

Banana Animal Keychain

Our next item is this adorable little banana-themed bird from Epoch. There was 12 different banana birds in total (6 birds but one half came on a strap while the other half did not, or in the case of mine, 2 color schemes). These included a banana bird, a choco dipped bird, one with a pink banana peel, a cockatiel with a greenish-yellow peel, one with a brown peel, and a little parakeet in yellow or green.

Birds are so cute, and I love animal-food combi’s, so I thought this was a very sweet little set. I got the little green parakeet; and I’m not joking when I say little, he’s about the size of one finger segment. As a figure its fairly simple, but the coloring is very clean. This would be an adorable little figure to use in a display.

Cinnamoroll Keychain

Are you guys sensing a theme yet?

This is another TTArts gachapon, this time featuring the adorable Cinnamoroll doing a variety of cutesy little things. Each figure includes a nice silver ball chain (and is wearing a hat) and there is 5 in total: Cinnamoroll wearing a vest and holding a cane, Cinnamoroll in a cup, Cinnamoroll balancing on a ball, Cinnamoroll relaxing on a ball, and Cinnamoroll standing with a horn.

I was impressed with the quality of this little figure. In height its about one finger segment, in length its about two (obviously because of his ears :P). The coloring is perfect with no sign of discoloration or uncolored spots, and believe it or not but his entire body is in the cup. Sometimes companies will take a short-cut by finding a way to cover the body or not including the entire thing, but I assure you his is there.

I really like this cute little charm, I’ve been considering hanging it off of something.

Tanuki/Kitsune Mug Warmer

Our next item is from Kitan Club, based on a cute pair known as Tanuki & Kitsune (I might be a little inaccurate on that but I assume thats what it is), a raccoon and fox pair. Each mug warmer is 300 yen, and there are 5 available styles: 2 expressions for each character, and one that resembles a fence post with Tanuki wedged in it.

These fit Small to Medium-sized bottles/cups/containers/tubes, from 260 to 340ml. What makes these extra cute is that they also have a tail on the back, and a ball chain.

Out of the two I would have preferred to get Kitsune/Fox, but they are both really cute.

I didn’t have a drink near me at the time and I wasn’t in the mood to make anything, so I put mine on a bottle of lotion. He seems to like it.

The piece is made from a really soft plush fabric, while the face, ears, and tail are made from a smooth, thin fabric maybe like a very thin imitation leather? I’m not really sure what its called. The lining inside feels a lot like a really soft sponge and is in several layers, ensuring the heat stays in while its being used and probably making sure the hands aren’t burned holding it.

It’s not something I would deem necessary- but it’s very cute and I like cutesy little things like this.

Sumikki Gurashi Watch

Our next item is this big, obnoxiously adorable watch by Koro Koro Collection and is an official licensed product by San-X. Besides Penguin? who I got, there is Neko, Shirokuma, Tonkatsu, and Tokage. Honestly, I was surprised I got Penguin? because usually I end up getting my 2 favorites, Shirokuma or Neko- but I also get Tokage a lot. I think this is actually my first Penguin? piece of merchandise. I really wish I got Shirokuma looking at the colors (and because I got him for another watch two years ago), but they are all very cute.

Anyway, this watch is obnoxiously big but its colors are soft and sweet, and its jelly strap is a really light pretty color with glitter through it (matching the capsule it came in) and it feels very comfortable on the wrist. Also, I wanted to mention it was extremely easy to set even if you can’t read the writing on the included paper (which I couldn’t), so you can put in the exact time and date. I like wearing it, and while I usually don’t wear watches anymore, I’m excited to get a chance to coordinate this with some clothing~

If you need a watch or just like cute Sumikko Gurashi merch, I’d recommend picking one up if you can find these (like on the merchandise store for this brand, or Rakuten. There’s a few gachapon shops I followed on there).

Kirby Dishes

Our last item is this adorable Kirby themed set of dishware by TTArts. As you can see there are 8 pieces in total, a mug and matching plate. The little dishes are ceramic and about half-thumb size. The coloring is pastel and on the back of the mug is the characters name or a saying; as you can see I got Waddle Dee. I really wish I got Kirby (especially one of those last two plates, they look so precious), but I seem to get a lot of Waddle Dee’s from these boxes. He’s cute too though so it’s cool.

The piece itself comes in bubble wrap to keep it safe from any possible cracking or breakage (or as a fun bonus if you like popping bubble wrap like me). I’m not sure it would be worth trying to use, but it would make a really cute big doll or re-ment set piece. Or maybe you could find something to store in it, like some paper clips or a pen.

- - - - - - - -

With everything mind, I enjoyed this box :3 it was all very cute and the details on everything is clean and perfect. But in all honesty, I kind of feel like its a little limited in comparison to the past 2 boxes, which I felt like had better sizing with the items and more involvement. I’m not sure with all the tiny pieces we got that this was worth the price, but I did like the items and I would still recommend them if any of them sounded interesting to you. I also like how most of the capsules came in my favorite type, the colored clear sphere with a clasp you have to lift. I LOVE those ones.

If I had to pick a favorite item, I believe mine would be the Sumikko Gurashi watch! It’s so cute and fun, and unlike everything else I know it will be used. In fact I plan to wear it while I go through my collection~

Until next time, stay cute~

[nomorelonelydays]

Sidgeno Actor AU anon fic

(A wonderful little fic I’m posting for an author who’d like to remain anonymous!! This is NOT written by me! Please read this it’s so cute and I love it to death)

The first time Geno sees Sidney Crosby he’s crying into Tanger’s shoulder as Sid learns how to walk again on the big screen.

Tanger scoffs and pushes him off as Sid takes his first step after a year and a half in a wheelchair and the woman sitting in front of them shushes them.

When the lights come on Geno is wiping his eyes and Tanger is rolling his.

“You know I’m fine with you showing emotion,” Tanger says as they file out of the theater. “But could you maybe not do it on my sweater.”

“You not cry. Heartless.” Geno sniffles.

“I’m not heartless, I just know the difference between reality and fiction.”

Geno slaps his hand against the movie poster hanging on the wall outside of the theater and Tanger smiles apologetically at the couples walking past them. “Is based on true story,” Geno says as he taps the small text right beneath the title. “Reality. He can’t walk after car accident. Lose everything. Can’t play hockey. Work so hard and comes back. Scores game winning goal. No heart.”

“You have too much heart. You cried last week at that movie where the dog died.”

Geno chases after him through the lobby. “You cry too.”

“Dogs are different.” Tanger pushes his way through the front doors and doesn’t hold them for Geno. “Everyone cries over dogs.”

“Fine, fine. But he good actor, right?”

“Oh yeah. Sid’s pretty good.”

“Pretty good. He great.”

Tanger shrugs and hits the unlock button on his keys. The headlights on the car blink halfway across the parking lot. “He takes on some really interesting roles. Always does a good job with them.”

“Roles? He in other things?”

“Crosby’s been around forever.” Tanger steps off the curb and gives the finger to a car that doesn’t yield for them.

The boy on the screen looked like….a boy. “Forever? But so young?”

“Sid’s one of those child stars that managed to stay out of rehab. So far. He’s done a ton of stuff. You didn’t get his TV show over in Russia?”

“Television. He on TV?”

“Used to be. A spy show. It was good. I think he got an Emmy for it.”

Geno hums and pulls open the passenger side door.

*

He spends the rest of his night switching back and forth between watching clips of Sidney giving interviews on YouTube and buying every movie of his on Amazon.

The box set of his show is cheap but Geno spends extra on next day shipping.

He burns through the whole series the following day after practice.

*

Geno finds Sid to be incredibly charming and handsome and just the right amount of awkward when he laughs so hard that he honks which in turn, makes him blush and Geno watches the same interview of him on Conan until his own face hurts from smiling.

*

He starts to bring Sid’s movies over for movie night and it takes Tanger four weeks before he finally figures it out.

He slowly pulls the beer bottle away from his lips and squints at Geno.

Geno pretends to ignore them and focuses on Sid on the screen. It’s a rom-com this week and Sid is walking home in the rain after a perfect first date. He’s smiling and his t-shirt is sticking to his skin. There’s a pop song playing in the background until the picture freezes.

“Hey.” He finally has to look at Tanger who has the remote in his hand and his finger on the pause button.

“I can’t believe it took me this long to catch on. I feel so stupid.”

“You are stupid,” Geno grumbles. “Start movie.”

“Sidney Crosby is in all these movies. This is a marathon. You have a crush.”

“No.”

“Yes. A big crush. You think he’s beautiful,” Tanger sing-songs. “You want to hold his hand and tell him he’s pretty and walk with him in the rain.”

“Talking crazy. Play movie.”

Tanger presses play then crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the cushions. “You know I don’t blame you. He is a really good actor and he has a halfway decent butt.”

Geno looks back at him and snaps “is best butt” and Tanger’s lips curl into a slow smile.

“You have a crush.”

“No. Not a crush. That’s stupid, it could never happen. Never even meet him. Probably never will. Probably has a girlfriend. Or boyfriend.” Geno doesn’t want to assume. But he always doesn’t want to get his hopes up. “Stupid.”

Tanger pauses the movie again and bumps his fist against Geno’s shoulder. “Of course it’s stupid. Having a crush on someone you’ll never meet is the stupidest thing you can ever do but everyone does it. It’s dumb and fun. Low risk. No chance of heartbreak. So go ahead, you date Sidney Crosby in your head. Have fun.” He hits play. “Just leave me out of it and let me pick the movie next week.”

*

He’s not convinced and he tries to stop it.

He doesn’t watch his movies and he only watches clips of him on YouTube on the weekends.

Sid’s one of the only celebrities around that doesn't have any kind of social media so it’s easy to avoid him.

It’s easy until Tanger sends him a text telling him that Sid’s been nominated for an Oscar for his part in the hockey movie and Geno spends the next week watching Sid tell the same story over and over again about how he felt when he got the call telling him the good news.

He looks sleepy and disheveled in the first interview. Up too early on West Coast time but he smiles as Matt Lauer congratulates him.

“I've been doing this for a long time,” he says through a laugh. “This is what I've been working for.”

His eyes are bright and there is color on his cheeks and Geno thinks that maybe he would give up the chance for a second cup just so Sid could get his award.

*

On the second Sunday in February Geno brushed off the rests of the guys invite to hit up a bar after a 5-2 win in Boston and goes back to the hotel.

He turns on the TV right as Sid’s category is being announced and he sits on the bed with his palms pressed to his knees as the nominees names are being read.

Taraji P. Henson says, “and the Oscar goes to…..” and takes a long pause before “Sidney Crosby.”

Sids face fills the screen and he covers his mouth with his hand.

Geno stands up and yells.

Sid makes his way to the stage and stumbles his way through an acceptance speech.

He thanks his family, his agent, the director.

No girlfriend.

No boyfriend.

Geno drops back onto the bed and watches Sid, voice thick with emotion as he thanks his parents and his sister again. He watches him shove a hand through his hair which is curling at the edges. His lips are red and his skin is winter pale and his eyes are bright.

Geno's heart squeezes in his chest.

“Stupid,” he says.

He has a crush.

*

He doesn't mean to do it, but the daydreams start immediately.

He thinks about making breakfast with him in the morning. Kissing his shoulder through the fabric of his worn cotton t-shirt.

Driving with him and bickering over radio stations.

Knowing he's there during a game. Scoring a goal just for him.

Geno feels warm all over when he thinks of him. Happy.

He still goes out and meets people. But the men all have dark hair and full lips and the women have warm hazel eyes.

*

The whole team finds out because what Tanger knows Flower knows and what Flower knows the whole team knows.

They send him photos daily.

Sidney drinking iced coffee through a straw, wearing dark wash jeans that hug his thighs, kneeling down to sign an autograph for a little kid.

Before a five day road trip he finds a copy of Sidney's issue of GQ in his stall with a note that says ‘for those lonely hotel room nights.’

There’s a post-it sticking out of the top of it and without even looking he knows what it’s marking.

Geno has his own copy at home.

It’s a black and white photo of Sid is black and white leaning against a wall wearing a suit. His tie is loose around his neck and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. There’s just the right amount of stubble on his face and his eyes are a little hooded.  

It’s a good look.

*

They play game after game and the playoffs are grueling a few times Geno thinks about that night in Boston, the night Sid won his Oscar, and he starts to wonder if he really sold his chance at the Cup for him to win.

*

Geno lifts the Cup after six games in the finals.

It feels heavier than it did years ago and as he slips beneath the sheets that night his, body and mind exhausted, his last thought is ‘I wonder if Sid watched.’

*

After the parade but before they're officially released for the summer they're told they have to film a tape piece for the NHL awards.

Geno only half listens. He's more focused on planning his summer and his day with the cup. All he knows is that he has to show up at the arena, put on his gear, and skate around with the random celebrity the NHL has hired to host the thing.

Geno is the last to arrive and the team falls into a hush as soon as he enters the room. He’s almost completely dressed by the time Tanger comes over.

“They tell you who the host is going to be?”

Geno tightens the laces of his skates and shakes his head.

“Oh this is going to be good,” Flower says from across the room.  

“One guess, G.”

“Don't know. Santa Claus.”

Tanger doesn't say anything and when Geno looks up he's smiling. Something's wrong.

“Who is it?”

He arches one eyebrow and pushes himself off the edge of his stall. “You'll see.”

“Tell me.”

Tanger shrugs, bumps fists with Flower and walks out of the dressing room.

He tries to corner Conor next.

“You know. I know you know. You tell me.”

Conor shakes his head, keeps his eyes on the ground, and slips right around him.

There’s nothing left for him to do but follow.

He gets one foot on the ice and almost wipes out.

His team is scattered around but standing at the center is Sidney Crosby in black track pants and a black long sleeved tee talking to a guy holding a camera and a woman holding a clipboard.

Geno stares and Tanger skates by and taps his stick against Geno’s shins.

“Surprised,” he asks through a grin.

Geno grips the boards tight enough that his knuckles turn white. “I go home now.”

“You’re the captain, you have to stay.”

“Tell them I’m sick.”

Tanger’s smile drops off his face and his shoulders droop. “You can do this. It’s going to be okay. He’s just a guy.”

“He famous.”

“You’re famous.”

“Not like Sid. Sid is….” Sid is beautiful and charming and he’s laughing at something the cameraman has said, loud and ridiculous and Geno feels his knees go weak. “It’s Sid,” he says helplessly.

“Yes,” Tanger agrees. “And he’s coming over so don’t blow it.”

Geno throws an arm out to try to grab at him but he darts away and Sidney Crosby glides in and takes his place.

Sid holds his hand out and Geno struggles for a moment as he shakes off his glove so he can take it.

Sid smiles, crooked and perfect.

“I’m Sid,” he says and Geno nods. “Are you ready to get started?”

Geno stands next to Sid with the team behind them as the producer, Abbie, tells them what's going to happen.

“Just a few introductions to start, then you'll run a few drills, play around a little. Have fun. Nothing too serious. Sound good?”

The question is directed at Geno but he doesn't realize it until someone shoves him from behind and the rest of the team laughs.

“What?”

Abbie rolls her eyes and when Geno looks sideways as Sid he's covering a smile behind his hand.

“I asked how that sounded. Do you have any questions?”

“About what?”

Abbie blinks and Sid puts his hand on Geno's arm, just below the bend of his elbow. He's sure he can feel the heat of it through all the layers he's wearing.

“We’ll be fine, Abbie, thank you. Maybe we should warm up a bit first.”

She nods and carefully walks back to the bench and the team scatters behind them. Flower heads to one net and Matt to the other and eventually it's just him and Sidney standing at center ice with Sids hand still on his arm.

“Sorry,” Geno apologizes. “I'm a little bit nervous.”

“What do you have to be nervous about? I'm the one who's skating with the Stanley Cup Champions.”

Geno shrugs like that's no big deal and compared to skating with the man he's been harboring a crush on for months, it isn't.

Sid moves his hand from his arm to his shoulder and Geno is sweating beneath his gear even though he hasn't done a thing.

“You're going to be fine. Trust me.”

*

Sid is graceful on the ice. Quick and confident and competitive as hell.

Geno’s crush escalates each time Sid wins a faceoff against him or chirps one of his teammates for not being where he needs him to be.

He skates a circle around Geno with a flush on his face and the camera following him and he's already dreading watching this footage back. He knows there's going to be countless close ups of Geno's heart eyes.

“Your team is pretty good,” Sid says.

“Yeah. We won cup for a reason. You good.” Geno taps his stick against Sid’s skates. “You learn all this for movie?”

“No, I played hockey long before that. You know, I am Canadian.”

“You ever think about playing. Could always use another forward.”

“The thought crossed my mind but….I don't know. I always kind of wanted to be a goalie.”

“You not crazy enough to be a goalie.” Geno nods down the ice where Flower is slowly stroking his stick with a huge smile on his face.

“Maybe not. You know Olli is beating you up the ice every time,” he says innocently. “You might want to work on that or you'll never score.”

“I'm not on your team. You don't want me to score.”

“You don't want to impress me?”

“.....I.”

The puck drops to the left of them and Sids flying up the ice. Geno hasn't even moved from his spot when Sid buries it behind Flower.

*

The next play Geno makes sure to beat Olli but Matt blocks his shot.

Sid skates by and shrugs. “It's a start,” and Geno grits his teeth.

He's not going to lose.

Sid smiles at him over his shoulder and Geno's also sure he's just fallen in love.

*

The game gets a little chippy after that.

Sid runs his mouth at Tanger and Geno snorts a laugh when he skates away with narrowed eyes.

“Your boyfriend is bossy as fuck,” he tells him when he gets close enough.

The camera is down at the other end of the ice and Tanger’s not mic'd up but Geno shushes him anyway.

“Not my boyfriend.”

“Well he wants you to be.”

“What's that mean?”

Tanger doesn't get to reply because the puck is headed their way, Sid leading the pack.

He passes it off to Conor and says “are you going to play or are you going to stand there,” before getting the puck back.

Sids not wearing full gear so it's the gentlest thing Geno has ever done when he checks him against the glass.

Geno holds him there while the play continues on around them and after a few seconds Sid gives up on trying to squirm free.

“Is this the only way you can beat me?”

Geno shrugs. “Maybe.” He looks down at him. His cheeks are flushed and there are curls sticking to his forehead. “Hi, Sid.”

“Hi, Geno.”

They smile at each other until the whistle blows.

Matt’s frozen the puck.

“Still can’t score,” Sid teases as he finally slips away.

Geno watches him go.  

He's definitely in love.

*

Sid’s only supposed to be on the ice for an hour but two hours later the cameras have stopped rolling, Abbie keeps checking the time on her phone, and Sid will not stop taking penalty shots against Flower.

“Sid, we have to get going.”

“Just five more minutes.”

“They're going to have to drag him off the ice,” Tanger says and Geno nods in agreement.

*

“You go ask that boy out before someone else does,” Flower says when Sid finally lets him leave the net. “Go ask him to dinner. He’ll say yes.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he likes you,” Flower says. “He spent the whole time flirting with you.”

“He did not.”

“Sid is a nice, polite, Canadian boy. He's only going to be a competitive douche around someone he feels comfortable with.”

“I don't know.”

“Oh for fuck sakes,” Tanger says with a heavy sigh. He cups his hands around his mouth and yells “Sidney!”

At center ice Sid turns around to look at them.

Flower bursts out laughing and Geno almost pushes Tanger over the boards.

Sid starts to slowly skate over and Geno panics.

“Tacos,” he blurts out and Sid stops short and furrows his brows.

Flower mumbles “oh my god,” under his breath.

“You eat tacos?”

“It's like watching a car wreck,” Tanger says and Geno turns around and hisses “this was your idea.”

“I was trying to help you.” He shoves him and Geno slides forward. “Don't screw this up.”

Geno takes a deep breath to try to calm his nerves and skates to him. Their close enough that their toes bump before Geno stops himself but Sid doesn’t back up.

“I was asking if you want to go get dinner with me. But you don’t have to if you don’t-.”

“I want to,” Sid interrupts. “When?”

“Now. Maybe I go shower first,” he says. Sid looks like he’s glowing but Geno knows that he stinks beneath all his gear. “I’ll be quick and then we’ll go?”

“Alright. I’ll be waiting out here.”

*

It’s a quick walk to the restaurant.

Sid walks with his hands in his pockets and Geno tries his best not to accidentally sway into him.

The hostess leads them to a booth near the back and Geno lets Sid pick what side he wants to sit on before he slides on in on the opposite.

“So,” Sid says as he looks over the menu. “What's good here?”

Geno heaves a sigh. “Sorry. I'm sorry I'm so bad at this. It's just…..it's you and you're here. I see all your movies and watch your show and you're sitting across from me. Don't know what to do. Too nervous.”

“You're nervous? I'm nervous. You're….” Sid waves a hand at him. “You're you. I’ve been watching you for years, ever since you came over here and I was so happy for you when you won the Cup the first time and then this time-”

“You watch?”

“Of course I watched. You’re my favorite player. How could I not watch? I only agreed to host this show because I thought that I might get to meet you and then when they told me that I’d get to skate with you...I was so nervous and then you asked me on a date and-.”

Geno sits up straight. “You think this is date?”

Sid blinks at him with color high on his cheeks. “Isn’t it? I mean, it’s okay if it’s not, you can forget I said anything, that’s fine.”

“No, no,” Geno says quickly, “is date. I want it to be date.”

Sid smiles and Geno kind of wants to spend the rest of his life making that happen.

They both relax after that.

The tension that Sid’s been carrying in his shoulders melts away when Geno starts to tell him about his hometown in Russia and Geno laughs loud enough to draw stares when Sid takes a bite of salsa that’s way too spicy for him.

Sid looks wounded as he takes a big sip of his soda and Geno gently kicks his foot beneath the table as an apology.

When he pulls his foot back Sid chases it with his own and they spend the rest of the meal with their feet pressed together.

Geno grabs the bill when when it comes and ignores Sid’s objections.

“You get it next time,” he tells him as he hands the waiter his credit card.

“What if I pay for dessert? If you know some place we can go.”

Geno gives him a slow once over and says “I know some place we can go.” He genuinely means the ice cream place a ten minute walk away but the way Sid’s eyes darken just enough for him to notice have him thinking something much more intimate. He does have a half gallon of cookies and cream in his freezer at home.

Geno leads him down the street on the way to the ice cream place.

Sid still has his hands in his coat pockets but after the first block he pulls one out and lets his swing next to Geno’s.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see Sid glancing at him every few steps and finally the backs of their hands brush three times before he heaves a huge sigh and wraps his fingers around Geno’s hand.

“Is this okay,” he asks and Geno answers by lacing their fingers together. “Okay,” Sid says and he does nothing to stop the slow smile that spreads across his face.

Geno squeezes his hand and matches that smile with his own.

[the-nysh]

Fun notes and commentary on Ova4: Games and Rivals

Takes place sometime soon after Boros, and it’s a worldwide online battle tournament with animal avatars. Possible to compete (freely) with either traditional gaming controls or a VR headset using your own moves/skills. For the winning prize of 5 million yen. Here’s what the competitive dorks chose:

Saitama: gorilla (always goes for the brute force power types)

Garou: wolf (obviously!)

Suiryu: dragon (name pun on ‘ryu’)

King: pink koala (dangerously unassuming and girly, of course)

It gets me that Genos never chooses to participate in these things himself; he rather observes and analyzes from the sidelines. (No chill and no fun! Always takes things seriously for a studying opportunity.) While providing supportive morale for Saitama however.

It’s funny how Saitama’s easily swayed by the prize money, but also how he assumes his power will be translated through the VR system for an instant win. (That’s not how it works!) He even admits he’s not that good at video games, and Genos even tells him ‘you should have no problem if you fight like always.’ Oh boy…:’D

Naturally, he’s instantly K.O.’d by King. “Perhaps the game cannot reflect the power of sensei’s punch.” Genos muses. Naturally, he’s pissed on Saitama’s behalf for the loss, but Saitama tells him to direct that anger towards monsters instead. :’) (Which he also jots down in his notebook, aha.) He reasons there must be someone out there with comparable strength to Saitama if they were able to beat him like this with the same VR headset! Impossible! (Oh my gosh, how that’s flawed…and lul the irony.)

Meanwhile, they spot competitor screens from other venues, where Garou (oh who could it be?! fighting as a wolf of course) easily wins and rises the ranks. It’s funny how he’d choose to enter + show off his skills in a gaming tournament like this of all things, but hey, it’s another competition with prize money to be won. :P (Since this is still early on before any of them met, he’s probably still messing around on his dojo hunting days.) Suiryu’s also spotted easily winning other matches, fighting as a dragon using only kick moves. Both of them remark how lackluster the current challengers are…

Until they face each other in the semifinals! Wolf vs Dragon! Genos wants to continue watching, but Saitama’s bummed and wants to go home and eat. They stay and comment how Dragon seems like he has the stronger advantage, but also how Wolf is holding back just measuring him up. (Another difference from Genos, but Garou multitasks analyzing his opponent while also actively participating/having fun in fights like this.) ‘Nice, finally a guy with some fight in him!’ and Garou gets more into it.

Genos recognizes Garou’s stance/moves similar to Bang’s, but hilariously Saitama’s all ‘he’d never play video games, plus he doesn’t hunch over’ like that either (pfft now that’s just too funny, plus it’s another fun case of just who could this mystery new lad be?!).  

Garou and Suiryu start having more fun duking it out, trading blows and appearing rather evenly matched. What proceeds is a really sweet fanservice dream battle that we’d otherwise never get to see in canon (it was either here in a possible early scenario like this or never, since Suiryu soon becomes too injured and Garou progresses too far for a fair match-up between them) and jumpaoki just goes absolutely ham animating them, what a treat. :’D I love the blocked move homages similar to the Metal Bat fight (but visualized better), and how jumpaoki can portray Garou as a cocky shit to a feral bastard. Nice.

Also, the little pause + walk off they do and the mid-air dodge/spin Garou does, wtf! 8’D Just gotta show it (my gif):

Even Saitama comments on the ‘fun’ they’re having. :’)) (Which he…rarely if ever gets to experience anymore…aww.) But just as Garou’s about to get serious and kick it up a gear…he glitches the game. :O

Apparently, the speed of his moves overloaded the VR system. Which, if we recall from the comments Genos made before, the game’s limited in accurately translating/reflecting the actual power of the user, so I like the implication here that Garou’s already showing signs he’s too strong for the system to register/handle. ;) Some nice little foreshadowing in that. Despite how it’s…unfair and unsportsman-like that Suiryu wails on him while immobilized from a controller error. D:

Garou rightfully gets pissed at that and almost ragequits, but reconsiders and refrains from throwing the headset, saving the staff from incident. :’)) Instead he hands it back to them and asks where to find (Suiryu), but they don’t have the information for that (probably a player confidentiality thing). So guess that’s that for them ever meeting/interacting again~ (What we got was delivered nicely and fun while it lasted!)

The finals proceed and bam, King swiftly destroys Suiryu. :’D (Feels like karma, plus with this outcome, it’s preferable this way than King prematurely facing and beating Garou.) Suiryu muses how there’s no way a player could perform moves like that with a regular controller, and reasons (King) must be a far superior martial artist to him.

Except…surprise! 8D King dominated and did all that with a handheld (he was pretty much there just to try out the latest innovation too), and with his unique and unmatched set of skills, I like the message how there’s more to ‘strength’ than just power alone. Classic.    

[flauntpage]

50 More Hot Takes for the Philadelphia Sports Fan

The first “hot takes” article did well last October, so I figured I’d do another one. This will be 50 more hot takes for the Philadelphia sports fan, which brings us to 100 hot takes over the course of eight months.

Now, not all of these are “hot” or even “takes,” i.e. some are lukewarm and some are just observations or maybe even aphorisms. But since this is 2019, I feel encouraged and motivated to just say shit without really thinking it through, then we’ll get people all riled up and benefit from the fake arguments that ensue. That’s the strategy, right? Just fire off a bunch of outrageous claims and watch site traffic roll.

Right, so with that Pulitzer-worthy lede, here are 50 more hot takes for you and your mom, after the jump:

Grown men should not bring a baseball glove to the ballpark unless accompanied by a child who is also wearing a glove.

Glen Macnow and Ray Didinger is the best radio show in Philadelphia.

It’s really weird that fans and media always call NBA players by their first names. We’re not their close friends, so I don’t know why Kawhi Leonard is just “Kawhi” and Kobe Bryant is just “Kobe” and LeBron James is just “LeBron.” We don’t refer to Tom Brady as “Tom” and we don’t refer to Drew Brees as “Drew.” It’s kind of creepy.

Philadelphia sports fans are horrendous at detecting sarcasm and satire.

Shitting on Pat’s and Geno’s for being “touristy” is a tired take. The “what’s your favorite cheesesteak?” argument is beyond worn out.

If you cut off other drivers at the sports complex, you’re an asshole. This is especially true for people in the outside lanes who turn in front of Xfinity Live and just force their way into the Wells Fargo Center parking lots. Wait in line like the rest of us.

Wearing a matching Eagles hat and jersey is inappropriate. The max should be one article of specific team apparel, so either the hat OR the jersey, but not both.

Too many media members in this city treat sporting events like social events, as if it’s important to “see and be seen,” but not actually do any work or ask any interesting questions. It’s the struggle to remain relevant.

You can’t talk shit about soccer if you watch WWE.

Late 90s ECW was better than anything WWE or WCW ever put out.

Tommy Dreamer should be ranked higher on any list of the best ECW wrestlers of all time. (Coggin tells me this is not a hot take)

Every able-bodied writer should be forced to play or referee the sport they cover for at least one year. It adds to your knowledge of the game while offering more credibility at the same time.

People like to complain about “fanboy journalism,” but the fact of the matter is that people click whenever we write a story that makes fun of Dallas, Boston, or New York.

Fake news isn’t fake news because you disagree with it. The term literally means that the story is fabricated. We had this problem with the Joe Santoliquito story, when people outright dismissed it because they didn’t like the assertions being made, regardless of whether or not they were true.

Synchronization at Philly sporting arenas is pretty bad. I’m not sure if it’s an acoustics problem or what, but sometimes simple cheers like “M-V-P or “De-fense” are being shouted at different times by 2-3 different sections of the stadium. It makes it look like we don’t know what we’re doing.

I can’t take you seriously if you can’t actually pronounce player names. It’s not Nelson “Aguilar,” nor is it Alshon “Jefferies” or Chase “Daniels.” Sports radio hosts should be instructed to hang up on callers who can’t pronounce names.

Pittsburgh isn’t a rival city. They are geographically further away than New York and D.C. and the fans who live there are very similar to us.

The NHL has the best overtime rules among the “four major North American sports.”

The NFL has the worst overtime rules, by far.

162 games of regular season baseball is a total snooze fest. Trim the regular season (boring TV) and add more playoff games (excellent TV).

The Flyers’ decision to cover and then remove the Kate Smith statue was totally rushed, like they didn’t think it through and just copied the Yankees in fear of bad publicity.

Likewise, it bothers me how quickly people were calling for Odubel Herrera’s removal from the Phillies organization. This is America; we gather facts, collect evidence, and exercise due diligence. Then we make informed and educated decisions.

Baseball traditionalists are the worst. “Nothing needs to change! Baseball is perfect the way it is!” Ugh, go away.

There’s too much mucking, grinding, and bullshitting on the boards in the NHL. The international dimensions make for a more open and enjoyable game.

Stephen A Smith is a national treasure.

“Click bait” is defined by the body of the story, not the headline. We are literally trying to write headlines that grab attention and result in people clicking on the story. They’re called “teases” in television lingo.

Boston isn’t much different from Philly. Both are great cities with history and culture and passionate sports fans. The only difference is they have horrible accents and Coggin thinks they’re more racist.

The in-game interview is the worst segment of all time and eternity. There’s no reason a coach should have to speak to the media during an actual game.

Media should not be allowed in the locker room, which is a sacred and private place for athletes.

Arena music is really bad in 2019. Some of the stuff you hear at Sixers’ games is the worst mumble rap ever.

“Welcome to the Jungle” needs to be banned from sporting events forever. It’s worn out.

I can’t support calling touchdowns “tuddies.”

Tomato pie is whatever. It’s not horrible, but it’s not good either.

Twitter should lock for at least 30 minutes after an Eagles loss, and everybody should be required to go outside and smoke a cigarette before they can log back in.

People still have no idea what Colin Kaepernick is protesting.

Criticizing the Wing Bowl for objectifying women feels off-base to me. Nobody forced anyone to be a wingette or escort the eaters to the stage, those women signed up to do that.

I don’t understand Philadelphia’s love for Pearl Jam. Alice in Chains and Soundgarden are the superior Seattle grunge bands. Nirvana is also overrated.

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band may very well be the most overrated act on the planet.

Mike Trout is boring.

Most sports writers and editors have an inflated sense of worth. We are not firefighters or doctors. We are not uncovering Russian collusion. Sports is entertainment. It’s the appreciation of athletic skill and achievement. We can inform and write interesting stories without taking ourselves too seriously.

Let’s not confuse journalism for sports writing. Peter Arnett was a journalist who reported from Vietnam and Iraq. Dan Shaughnessy is a sports writer who covers Boston teams.

We talk about how much we love Philadelphia, about how “blue collar” we are, yet I see trash and dog shit on every street corner. We need to do a better job of taking care of our neighborhoods and showing some pride in where we live.

If you shovel out your own parking spot, then put a cone there to save it, you’re a selfish asshole. It literally takes five minutes to shovel out your neighbor’s car or clear the snow from their steps. Do something for somebody else.

Stop calling Fishtown “hipster.” It hasn’t been hipster for years. All of the hipsters moved to the west side of Frankford Avenue or down to East Passyunk.

Media members who don’t show up during the regular season should be banned from attending playoff games.

Eagles talk should be banned from the end of minicamp to the start of training camp.

I wasn’t a fan of Justin Gaethje’s “American vs. a foreigner” angle at the recent UFC Fight Night at the Wells Fargo Center. Gaethje is from Arizona. His opponent, Edson Barboza, has trained in New Jersey for several years. Barboza was born in Brazil but has more of a connection to this region than Gaethje does. That felt a little hollow to me, the fact that the crowd was lopsided in Gaethje’s favor.

Media members should never talk shit about a player on social media, then go put a microphone in his or her face. Athletes pay attention to those kinds of things.

Calling millennials “soft” is dumb, because Baby Boomers were the ones handing out the participation trophies. We literally created the environment they are living in.

Parents who yell at their kids, the coach, or the referees at a youth sporting event should be immediately escorted from the premises and put on six months of probation.

That’s what I’ve got.

Agree? Disagree? Just want to troll the comments section? Get at me dog.

The post 50 More Hot Takes for the Philadelphia Sports Fan appeared first on Crossing Broad.

50 More Hot Takes for the Philadelphia Sports Fan published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

[the-nysh]

I’m sad the manga didn’t include that panel of Garou deciding to continue fighting Genos only because his pretty face pisses him off. Really wanted to see his utter lack of self awareness reaching comical levels but that’s probably one of the reasons it was omitted lmfao.

Oh yeah THAT one! I know precisely what webcomic panel you’re talking about in fact I already had this saved in my files, cause heh it was one of those really underrated yet fav moments that I’d hoped to see Murata adapt too. 

For that really specific and petty/irritated inner commentary about him, and that confirmation + stating the obvious about Genos having a pretty face, pfft. :P

When Murata was still drawing their fight in the manga, I was hoping the line would stay or get included somewhere (I was actually keeping watch for it), just cause it was so iconic and funny, but ahh, perhaps Murata (and ONE) felt it was too redundant. Especially in Murata’s version, where he made it a point to show how pretty things were in another way. (Visually yes he made sure Genos was as pristine and pretty as possible, esp in contrast to how worn and bloodied Garou was at that point!)

But that ‘utter lack of self awareness’ of his could have made it even funnier, as perhaps his comment may have worked in the situation back then for webcomic Garou (whose appearance was more like a common teen thug), but this time around for Murata’s depiction of Garou, it would have been like…what the fuck, look who’s talking! Buaha! Then again, the thing about heroes being the conventionally accepted pretty and popular ones is another beef he has, specifically when it comes to delivering the smack down on Sweet Mask later on. So again, perhaps another redundancy + off tangent character similarities ONE may not have wanted or felt necessary to bring up (esp if it could have shifted the tone too much) in the manga’s version of his fight with Genos here. Still, I totally get what you mean though, as that comical obliviousness of his is definitely a charm point. ;) 

[onepunchmiss]

OPM s2e7 Live blog

“The S Class Heroes”

IM SCREAMING ALREADY I ONLY READ THE EPISODE TITLE ALRIGHT OK SO IT BEGINS TODAY, MY DEATH guys I am so pumped for the S Class focus thats about to begin with this episode like from here on out they become main players in the series and asfdbfhirksvfjkevfsnjkvfnjek how is it legal for ONE SERIES to contain SO MANY FAVES. Anywayyy Before I get started I’m actually wondering- this is the 7th episode of the second season… do we know how many episodes the season is supposed to run for? S1 only had 12 i think. I’m… I’m not even close to ready for it ending. Now that they’ve introduced Orochi, I’m not even sure where a good break in the plot would be?? Random concerns aside, lets get to the episode. As always, I’m watching this as someone who has read the manga and web comic to date

OROCHI IS PINK HE IS HOT PINK THATS ALL I HAVE TO SAY BEFORE THE TITLE SEQUENCE HITS ME LIKE A GUT PUNCH EVERY SINGLE TIME AND I STILL PAUSE IT AT ZOMBIEMAN OK off to a great start woo

Oh thank god we’re starting with the tournament I can stop quite literally holding my breath. Alright its Choze time. I’m actually excited for him to do things, his face has been nothing but terrifying thus far and hes one of those characters that are just fun to hate unapologetically. I love over-the-top Nazi stand-ins for that reason tbh

OH FUCK OH GOD I LOVE HIM also GAROU hiya welcome back I know it’s only been 2 weeks but i missed you so much thank you for gracing my screen for 5 seconds OH HECK the dramatic music and beginning of the internal monologue just being blatantly REJECTED caught me off guard I cackled AH WAIT WAIT

EYESIGHT DOGMAN ASDFGHK MY BABY IS COMING IM DEAD IM FUKKIN DEAD ALREADY I MISSED HIS CUTE VOICE hey no wait that was very quick?? I must withhold my bias, we’re at the point now where I have SCRUTINIZED every single panel of the manga over and over because of all of my faves, so even the smallest differences will be glaring to me. As much as I want all the action to be drawn out as it is in the manga, I know that’s never been how the anime has rolled. I must bite my tongue.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THE ONLY TIME WE’LL EVER SEE HIM AND YET!!! oof i had to pause for 2 minutes to chill out and actually type. I. I just. juST. BOI ARE YOU OK WHERE ARE YOU ARE YOU WELL AND WHY DO YOU LOOK LIKE G4 tell me your secrets

WAIT COME BACK i dont give 2 SHITS about sweet mast HECKK

speaking of whom get off my screen u creep I have a personal bone to pick with u disrespecting the bae as you will

[SCREAMING]

Oh god this whole scene is so EXCITING and TERRIFYING child emperor’s face as Pig God just eats her, speaking of which -QUIT CUTTING BACK TO THAT TERRIFYING IMAGERY ASDFGHJ  

YES THEY KEPT IT YES YES YES YESYEYSYEYS YOU DONT UNDERSTAND how much Ive been looking FORWARD to that little scene??? im crying how is it possible to work myself up so much of this please help

ok ok back to the tournament give my heart a break phew Hey Choze if you’re genes are so superior then where are your eyebrows????? You dont pull it off HALF as well as Z does. Jeez everything about this guy is so absurd I can’t help but laugh irl the damn DNA helix rolling across the screen dude just stop you’re embarrassing yourself

although you DO know how to strike a pose. change ur name to Poze. Wait no. Your name is now GMO Corn I lied.

AGAIN GETTIN ME WITH THE WEIRD COLORS Hundred Eyes Octopuss is red and blue OK SURE

DEATH GATLING DEATH GATLING ASDFGHJKL guys I cant look at Narcisstoic oh no “no you’ll do no good”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I WASNT EXPECTING THIS THIS EPISODE BUT I SHOULD HAVE I WASNT PREPARED I paused it I’m afraid to push play he’s not on the screen yet i can still turn back and make it out alive -

                    Behold.                                     the moment   I          died        

I actually have this thing with eye gore and seeing it in motion fucked me up I had to skip 10 seconds but anyway FUCK he’s so SPARKLY and PRETTY

Noting also the music there totally gave me flashbacks to the Darkmatter Thieves invasion for a split second and that sequence in general was really well done I like how they emphasized the suckers sticking to the concrete and everything- it have the monster a lot of weight imo. Of course the studio would be fools to not give Tatsumaki the the utmost respect like that sooo

SPARKLY and PRETTY and TEMPTING FATE YOU FOOL yo I was so excited to this scene but I feel like they didn’t make his response angry enough it’s funnier when it so uncharacteristically mad I might do a redraw with the face he makes in the manga………….. FUKKIN was smiley face man just yelling noises to cover flashy’s voice???? FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

OH MY FUCK WE’RE GETTING MONSTER CELLS THIS EPISODE. OH MY HECK WE’RE COVERING MUCH MORE GROUND THAN I THOUGHT WE’RE ONLY HALF WAY THROUGH THE EP

plot progression plot progression plo t p r ogr e ss i on hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Kamikaze being the badass that he is i lov

SPEAKING OF LOVES LOOKY LOOK God i love those three Okamaitachi is a WIFE and IAI is a BAE HEY WAIT let them speak come back they said words i want voices!!!!!!!  this is going so fast??? Oh my god I was absolutely not expecting to get the Suiryu fight this episode holy crap holy crap?? Ok but I’m getting pumped the music is hype “trying to hide his nervousness by looking like a doofus” “this is how I always look” Oh saitama why do they do this to you. Jeez as much as I love everyone else I forget how much I miss him. 

Oh and he’s getting his hopes up again sweetheart no

This is so good I’m hardly pausing to type my thoughts I’m too invested AND NOW ALSO IM DIGGING THIS MUSIC this is good v good yes and there goes Saitama being a genuinely good person offended by this jackass Saitama is too good for this world

His voice… I love him sm. aaaaaaaaaaaaaand its over. hmmmmmmmmmmmm so I have a guess as to what the post credits scene will be but let’s just see

YUP I KNEW IT cause we skipped it last week and now that we’ve introduced the monster cells it was only logical Genos no bby stop getting completely obliterated mannnnnnnnn

In all, no real complaints??? My children?? Have began to appear finally??? I just wish they literally went word for word shot for d\shot with Drive Knight if only because I’m STARVED for DK content in general. But based on the pacing of this week’s episode, will definitely cover a lot of ground and be pretty intense. I should be less, uh, screaming? Next week too. I’m exhausted from spazzing every 10 seconds hah. Well, I just skimmed the manga again and there might be some but yeah I think I can calm down for maybe 2 weeks. maybe. take a wild guess who should show up right around that time. ANYWAY Thanks for reading see yall next weeeeekkkkk

[the-nysh]

Dub ep6 notes:

More of a quick summary this time since only so much is shown this ep. The tournament’s quickly speeding through the matches (mostly off screened) while Genos swiftly exterminates the monsters outside without mercy (so he can get back in time to watch Saitama, heh his priorities). Saitama remains cute, blasé, and oblivious in the face of all the seriousness that’s happening, by continuing to tie his belt wrong and missing matches while in the bathroom. :P (Bringing all the fun laughs this ep.) Meanwhile Suiryu strives to win his matches with a single kick of his own after watching Saitama’s, and overconfidently throws shade at the heroes competing (Max and Snek) for his ‘the strong’ moment. All that setup for what comes later.

Other than those main things, I was glad to see the scene with Tareo again watching the news in his home, with a Mr. Saynuthin (lol) spokesperson, and worried for the heroes getting beaten. Meanwhile we only get like 2 shots of Garou (one of his back, heh) approaching Watchdog Man, so hhh gotta wait til later for more of him. 

Super S vs Fubuki (and then Tatsumaki) continues as another highlight this ep, and whoa Super S says ‘that hurt you bitch!’ when Fubuki resists her mind control. :O I do like how Super S is dubbed/portrayed in general, and what we get of Tatsumaki’s dismissive attitude this ep is almost too brief! (Need to hear her more!) But hearing the sisters call each other ‘Blizzard’ and ‘Tornado’ directly (instead of more familiar terms for big/little sis) is…well, certainly different than what I’m used to. :P It almost sounds too distant? So that’s something.

Lastly, the after credits scene shows us the first glimpse of Gyoro and Orochi, with their voices! :D Gyoro sounds deceptively male, but really fancy like a charismatic orator, so I like it! Meanwhile Orochi sounds pretty much just as you’d expect, deep and gravelly. Next ep preview teases Suiryu finally facing off vs Saitama (thinking he’s staring at his wig), so heh, that’ll get underway soon.

[flauntpage]

50 More Hot Takes for the Philadelphia Sports Fan

The first “hot takes” article did well last October, so I figured I’d do another one. This will be 50 more hot takes for the Philadelphia sports fan, which brings us to 100 hot takes over the course of eight months.

Now, not all of these are “hot” or even “takes,” i.e. some are lukewarm and some are just observations or maybe even aphorisms. But since this is 2019, I feel encouraged and motivated to just say shit without really thinking it through, then we’ll get people all riled up and benefit from the fake arguments that ensue. That’s the strategy, right? Just fire off a bunch of outrageous claims and watch site traffic roll.

Right, so with that Pulitzer-worthy lede, here are 50 more hot takes for you and your mom, after the jump:

Grown men should not bring a baseball glove to the ballpark unless accompanied by a child who is also wearing a glove.

Glen Macnow and Ray Didinger is the best radio show in Philadelphia.

It’s really weird that fans and media always call NBA players by their first names. We’re not their close friends, so I don’t know why Kawhi Leonard is just “Kawhi” and Kobe Bryant is just “Kobe” and LeBron James is just “LeBron.” We don’t refer to Tom Brady as “Tom” and we don’t refer to Drew Brees as “Drew.” It’s kind of creepy.

Philadelphia sports fans are horrendous at detecting sarcasm and satire.

Shitting on Pat’s and Geno’s for being “touristy” is a tired take. The “what’s your favorite cheesesteak?” argument is beyond worn out.

If you cut off other drivers at the sports complex, you’re an asshole. This is especially true for people in the outside lanes who turn in front of Xfinity Live and just force their way into the Wells Fargo Center parking lots. Wait in line like the rest of us.

Wearing a matching Eagles hat and jersey is inappropriate. The max should be one article of specific team apparel, so either the hat OR the jersey, but not both.

Too many media members in this city treat sporting events like social events, as if it’s important to “see and be seen,” but not actually do any work or ask any interesting questions. It’s the struggle to remain relevant.

You can’t talk shit about soccer if you watch WWE.

Late 90s ECW was better than anything WWE or WCW ever put out.

Tommy Dreamer should be ranked higher on any list of the best ECW wrestlers of all time. (Coggin tells me this is not a hot take)

Every able-bodied writer should be forced to play or referee the sport they cover for at least one year. It adds to your knowledge of the game while offering more credibility at the same time.

People like to complain about “fanboy journalism,” but the fact of the matter is that people click whenever we write a story that makes fun of Dallas, Boston, or New York.

Fake news isn’t fake news because you disagree with it. The term literally means that the story is fabricated. We had this problem with the Joe Santoliquito story, when people outright dismissed it because they didn’t like the assertions being made, regardless of whether or not they were true.

Synchronization at Philly sporting arenas is pretty bad. I’m not sure if it’s an acoustics problem or what, but sometimes simple cheers like “M-V-P or “De-fense” are being shouted at different times by 2-3 different sections of the stadium. It makes it look like we don’t know what we’re doing.

I can’t take you seriously if you can’t actually pronounce player names. It’s not Nelson “Aguilar,” nor is it Alshon “Jefferies” or Chase “Daniels.” Sports radio hosts should be instructed to hang up on callers who can’t pronounce names.

Pittsburgh isn’t a rival city. They are geographically further away than New York and D.C. and the fans who live there are very similar to us.

The NHL has the best overtime rules among the “four major North American sports.”

The NFL has the worst overtime rules, by far.

162 games of regular season baseball is a total snooze fest. Trim the regular season (boring TV) and add more playoff games (excellent TV).

The Flyers’ decision to cover and then remove the Kate Smith statue was totally rushed, like they didn’t think it through and just copied the Yankees in fear of bad publicity.

Likewise, it bothers me how quickly people were calling for Odubel Herrera’s removal from the Phillies organization. This is America; we gather facts, collect evidence, and exercise due diligence. Then we make informed and educated decisions.

Baseball traditionalists are the worst. “Nothing needs to change! Baseball is perfect the way it is!” Ugh, go away.

There’s too much mucking, grinding, and bullshitting on the boards in the NHL. The international dimensions make for a more open and enjoyable game.

Stephen A Smith is a national treasure.

“Click bait” is defined by the body of the story, not the headline. We are literally trying to write headlines that grab attention and result in people clicking on the story. They’re called “teases” in television lingo.

Boston isn’t much different from Philly. Both are great cities with history and culture and passionate sports fans. The only difference is they have horrible accents and Coggin thinks they’re more racist.

The in-game interview is the worst segment of all time and eternity. There’s no reason a coach should have to speak to the media during an actual game.

Media should not be allowed in the locker room, which is a sacred and private place for athletes.

Arena music is really bad in 2019. Some of the stuff you hear at Sixers’ games is the worst mumble rap ever.

“Welcome to the Jungle” needs to be banned from sporting events forever. It’s worn out.

I can’t support calling touchdowns “tuddies.”

Tomato pie is whatever. It’s not horrible, but it’s not good either.

Twitter should lock for at least 30 minutes after an Eagles loss, and everybody should be required to go outside and smoke a cigarette before they can log back in.

People still have no idea what Colin Kaepernick is protesting.

Criticizing the Wing Bowl for objectifying women feels off-base to me. Nobody forced anyone to be a wingette or escort the eaters to the stage, those women signed up to do that.

I don’t understand Philadelphia’s love for Pearl Jam. Alice in Chains and Soundgarden are the superior Seattle grunge bands. Nirvana is also overrated.

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band may very well be the most overrated act on the planet.

Mike Trout is boring.

Most sports writers and editors have an inflated sense of worth. We are not firefighters or doctors. We are not uncovering Russian collusion. Sports is entertainment. It’s the appreciation of athletic skill and achievement. We can inform and write interesting stories without taking ourselves too seriously.

Let’s not confuse journalism for sports writing. Peter Arnett was a journalist who reported from Vietnam and Iraq. Dan Shaughnessy is a sports writer who covers Boston teams.

We talk about how much we love Philadelphia, about how “blue collar” we are, yet I see trash and dog shit on every street corner. We need to do a better job of taking care of our neighborhoods and showing some pride in where we live.

If you shovel out your own parking spot, then put a cone there to save it, you’re a selfish asshole. It literally takes five minutes to shovel out your neighbor’s car or clear the snow from their steps. Do something for somebody else.

Stop calling Fishtown “hipster.” It hasn’t been hipster for years. All of the hipsters moved to the west side of Frankford Avenue or down to East Passyunk.

Media members who don’t show up during the regular season should be banned from attending playoff games.

Eagles talk should be banned from the end of minicamp to the start of training camp.

I wasn’t a fan of Justin Gaethje’s “American vs. a foreigner” angle at the recent UFC Fight Night at the Wells Fargo Center. Gaethje is from Arizona. His opponent, Edson Barboza, has trained in New Jersey for several years. Barboza was born in Brazil but has more of a connection to this region than Gaethje does. That felt a little hollow to me, the fact that the crowd was lopsided in Gaethje’s favor.

Media members should never talk shit about a player on social media, then go put a microphone in his or her face. Athletes pay attention to those kinds of things.

Calling millennials “soft” is dumb, because Baby Boomers were the ones handing out the participation trophies. We literally created the environment they are living in.

Parents who yell at their kids, the coach, or the referees at a youth sporting event should be immediately escorted from the premises and put on six months of probation.

That’s what I’ve got.

Agree? Disagree? Just want to troll the comments section? Get at me dog.

The post 50 More Hot Takes for the Philadelphia Sports Fan appeared first on Crossing Broad.

50 More Hot Takes for the Philadelphia Sports Fan published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

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50 More Hot Takes for the Philadelphia Sports Fan

The first “hot takes” article did well last October, so I figured I’d do another one. This will be 50 more hot takes for the Philadelphia sports fan, which brings us to 100 hot takes over the course of eight months.

Now, not all of these are “hot” or even “takes,” i.e. some are lukewarm and some are just observations or maybe even aphorisms. But since this is 2019, I feel encouraged and motivated to just say shit without really thinking it through, then we’ll get people all riled up and benefit from the fake arguments that ensue. That’s the strategy, right? Just fire off a bunch of outrageous claims and watch site traffic roll.

Right, so with that Pulitzer-worthy lede, here are 50 more hot takes for you and your mom, after the jump:

Grown men should not bring a baseball glove to the ballpark unless accompanied by a child who is also wearing a glove.

Glen Macnow and Ray Didinger is the best radio show in Philadelphia.

It’s really weird that fans and media always call NBA players by their first names. We’re not their close friends, so I don’t know why Kawhi Leonard is just “Kawhi” and Kobe Bryant is just “Kobe” and LeBron James is just “LeBron.” We don’t refer to Tom Brady as “Tom” and we don’t refer to Drew Brees as “Drew.” It’s kind of creepy.

Philadelphia sports fans are horrendous at detecting sarcasm and satire.

Shitting on Pat’s and Geno’s for being “touristy” is a tired take. The “what’s your favorite cheesesteak?” argument is beyond worn out.

If you cut off other drivers at the sports complex, you’re an asshole. This is especially true for people in the outside lanes who turn in front of Xfinity Live and just force their way into the Wells Fargo Center parking lots. Wait in line like the rest of us.

Wearing a matching Eagles hat and jersey is inappropriate. The max should be one article of specific team apparel, so either the hat OR the jersey, but not both.

Too many media members in this city treat sporting events like social events, as if it’s important to “see and be seen,” but not actually do any work or ask any interesting questions. It’s the struggle to remain relevant.

You can’t talk shit about soccer if you watch WWE.

Late 90s ECW was better than anything WWE or WCW ever put out.

Tommy Dreamer should be ranked higher on any list of the best ECW wrestlers of all time. (Coggin tells me this is not a hot take)

Every able-bodied writer should be forced to play or referee the sport they cover for at least one year. It adds to your knowledge of the game while offering more credibility at the same time.

People like to complain about “fanboy journalism,” but the fact of the matter is that people click whenever we write a story that makes fun of Dallas, Boston, or New York.

Fake news isn’t fake news because you disagree with it. The term literally means that the story is fabricated. We had this problem with the Joe Santoliquito story, when people outright dismissed it because they didn’t like the assertions being made, regardless of whether or not they were true.

Synchronization at Philly sporting arenas is pretty bad. I’m not sure if it’s an acoustics problem or what, but sometimes simple cheers like “M-V-P or “De-fense” are being shouted at different times by 2-3 different sections of the stadium. It makes it look like we don’t know what we’re doing.

I can’t take you seriously if you can’t actually pronounce player names. It’s not Nelson “Aguilar,” nor is it Alshon “Jefferies” or Chase “Daniels.” Sports radio hosts should be instructed to hang up on callers who can’t pronounce names.

Pittsburgh isn’t a rival city. They are geographically further away than New York and D.C. and the fans who live there are very similar to us.

The NHL has the best overtime rules among the “four major North American sports.”

The NFL has the worst overtime rules, by far.

162 games of regular season baseball is a total snooze fest. Trim the regular season (boring TV) and add more playoff games (excellent TV).

The Flyers’ decision to cover and then remove the Kate Smith statue was totally rushed, like they didn’t think it through and just copied the Yankees in fear of bad publicity.

Likewise, it bothers me how quickly people were calling for Odubel Herrera’s removal from the Phillies organization. This is America; we gather facts, collect evidence, and exercise due diligence. Then we make informed and educated decisions.

Baseball traditionalists are the worst. “Nothing needs to change! Baseball is perfect the way it is!” Ugh, go away.

There’s too much mucking, grinding, and bullshitting on the boards in the NHL. The international dimensions make for a more open and enjoyable game.

Stephen A Smith is a national treasure.

“Click bait” is defined by the body of the story, not the headline. We are literally trying to write headlines that grab attention and result in people clicking on the story. They’re called “teases” in television lingo.

Boston isn’t much different from Philly. Both are great cities with history and culture and passionate sports fans. The only difference is they have horrible accents and Coggin thinks they’re more racist.

The in-game interview is the worst segment of all time and eternity. There’s no reason a coach should have to speak to the media during an actual game.

Media should not be allowed in the locker room, which is a sacred and private place for athletes.

Arena music is really bad in 2019. Some of the stuff you hear at Sixers’ games is the worst mumble rap ever.

“Welcome to the Jungle” needs to be banned from sporting events forever. It’s worn out.

I can’t support calling touchdowns “tuddies.”

Tomato pie is whatever. It’s not horrible, but it’s not good either.

Twitter should lock for at least 30 minutes after an Eagles loss, and everybody should be required to go outside and smoke a cigarette before they can log back in.

People still have no idea what Colin Kaepernick is protesting.

Criticizing the Wing Bowl for objectifying women feels off-base to me. Nobody forced anyone to be a wingette or escort the eaters to the stage, those women signed up to do that.

I don’t understand Philadelphia’s love for Pearl Jam. Alice in Chains and Soundgarden are the superior Seattle grunge bands. Nirvana is also overrated.

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band may very well be the most overrated act on the planet.

Mike Trout is boring.

Most sports writers and editors have an inflated sense of worth. We are not firefighters or doctors. We are not uncovering Russian collusion. Sports is entertainment. It’s the appreciation of athletic skill and achievement. We can inform and write interesting stories without taking ourselves too seriously.

Let’s not confuse journalism for sports writing. Peter Arnett was a journalist who reported from Vietnam and Iraq. Dan Shaughnessy is a sports writer who covers Boston teams.

We talk about how much we love Philadelphia, about how “blue collar” we are, yet I see trash and dog shit on every street corner. We need to do a better job of taking care of our neighborhoods and showing some pride in where we live.

If you shovel out your own parking spot, then put a cone there to save it, you’re a selfish asshole. It literally takes five minutes to shovel out your neighbor’s car or clear the snow from their steps. Do something for somebody else.

Stop calling Fishtown “hipster.” It hasn’t been hipster for years. All of the hipsters moved to the west side of Frankford Avenue or down to East Passyunk.

Media members who don’t show up during the regular season should be banned from attending playoff games.

Eagles talk should be banned from the end of minicamp to the start of training camp.

I wasn’t a fan of Justin Gaethje’s “American vs. a foreigner” angle at the recent UFC Fight Night at the Wells Fargo Center. Gaethje is from Arizona. His opponent, Edson Barboza, has trained in New Jersey for several years. Barboza was born in Brazil but has more of a connection to this region than Gaethje does. That felt a little hollow to me, the fact that the crowd was lopsided in Gaethje’s favor.

Media members should never talk shit about a player on social media, then go put a microphone in his or her face. Athletes pay attention to those kinds of things.

Calling millennials “soft” is dumb, because Baby Boomers were the ones handing out the participation trophies. We literally created the environment they are living in.

Parents who yell at their kids, the coach, or the referees at a youth sporting event should be immediately escorted from the premises and put on six months of probation.

That’s what I’ve got.

Agree? Disagree? Just want to troll the comments section? Get at me dog.

The post 50 More Hot Takes for the Philadelphia Sports Fan appeared first on Crossing Broad.

50 More Hot Takes for the Philadelphia Sports Fan published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/