#anyone wanna donate??? haha

[cornerihaunt]

oh you guys i had a Bad Day

[calliopeseas]

loneliness is a hell of a drug and i get panic attacks when high

[captainmera]

Hey! Something I wanna try out! :'D

From detailed artworks to silly wee ones! Mostly fandom stuff atm, I'll do IBWR stuff in the future if this seems to be anything worthwhile to put energy into! :P

I don't know if this is of interest to anybody, but I figured it could be a safer dice-throw than purchasing a bunch of things nobody buys. :')

Right now, I got two up on my ko-fi atm! of Caleb and Evelyn! :D It should be accessible to anyone who makes a one-off ko-fi donation (I think any amount should work?)

And soonish I can put things like these up too! Some for free (like these) and some other ones behind a pay-wall for donators only. But only if this is anything people would be interested in, haha!

if you're confused, just ask! :)

[ivoryratdoggerythethird]

finally watched the playthrough for class of '09 flipside and i'm going to pretend none of that happened, thanks. idec enough about the nicole suicide ending where i should've been emotional but i was blank and dry as cardboard because everything preceding it was complete garbage.

that trafficking ending was fucking disgusting. call me sensitive but, hot goddamn take, making jokes about people being actively oppressed over 75 years and recently, being brutally genocided for all to see, running a sex slave ring where they specifically love to rape white girls - yeah, i think it's just a little bit in poor fucking taste.

i love dark humour, i still laugh at the re-up audio clips, but this is utter vomit-inducing bullshit trying to pass itself off as edgy. haha look at the brown guys aren't they horrifying loll all they wanna do is assault american women hahaha. because fuck making actual commentary on anything right? what the hell even was that spy warehouse shit??? half the damn game was nonsensical trash.

i'm so mad i wanted to like this game so bad but sbn3 hates actually having fans so i'm the idiot for trying i guess

these characters weren't even characters anymore, just cardboard cutouts spewing garbage right from the devs' mouths and trying to get themselves clipped for zingers and one-liners, except they forget the part where they're supposed to make it memorable or funny. these girls are reduced to exactly what nicole kept saying society saw them as - tools for misery porn and abuse and projecting sexual fetishes on

also that last inbox calling anyone who criticizes the game pedos? yeah. you're really fucking funny sbn3, you really are. so funny i hope every girl or woman you meet treats you like nicole treats the disgusting creeps in her own world. so figure the weirdos in the game are so effectively gross, they learned from the best

edit: if i've still got anyone's attention here please check this page out and see if you can spare a donation, or at least like and reblog or share to someone who might

[redpanther23]

sorry if this is a bit of a personal question, but is your lifestyle costly in any way, especially concerning the gas for your (sick) car? and is homesickness inevitable?

i feel like a stationary life in a house for years bogs me down. i don't know if i feel this way because of my current living situation causing me a lot of stress and a lot of bad memories attached to my current home, being in a shitty area, mental illness, or all of the above, but i just don't feel like i can live this way especially with my increasing wanderlust (a strong desire to travel).

it was magical to me seeing your many interactions and various views when you were traveling around the country. it was honestly really exciting! i feel like there's a lot to witness in the world and i want to see what i can in the short time i have on earth. (i think it's why i love visiting my family so much, besides enjoying their presence.)

but i don't want to throw myself head first into it, ya know? i want to know how much it's going to cost me. i would love to travel, but i don't wanna go broke over it! ;^;

i also have a strong attachment to my current home, florida. no other place has really matched its beautiful savannas, messy yet beautiful rivers, crazy plant overgrowth, and the nostalgic noise of cicadas (i even managed to find a shell this summer! it's my most prized possession, physical music aside). but, god... i really feel like fucking off sometime and going elsewhere for a little bit.

sorry if this is a lot of personal details, haha... you just feel very easy to talk to and i would like to have a roaming lifestyle. haven't been attached to people as much lately due to things, and i want to have my own adventures and experiences. maybe it's some sort of natural instinct to finally leave the family? xD who knows

To be honest, I've struggled with mental illness and depression the whole time I've been running this blog, and since I've stopped being homeless the last couple months, I've become a completely different and much happier person.

My comic seems very lighthearted and happy go lucky because I choose to focus on positive parts of my life in my work, it helps me to stay alive. When I was a kid my parents took me out of Mississippi, isolated and abused the shit out of me. My whole life I've actually dreamed of being able to live here and make music and have friends, and the whole time I was homeless I was homesick as fuck and cried multiple times daily. A lot of the drug use I portray is from times I was extremely suicidal, now I'm happy as a clam and don't ever feel the need to get fucked up like that, or hate myself or my life or anything (I don't even drink anymore.)

I've always wanted to help my family, who live in extreme poverty, but as a disabled person felt unable to. Now through my work, I'm able to be healthy and improve my life, and it's extremely satisfying.

I know this isn't the answer you guys probably want to hear. When my life was horrible and I was surrounded by abusers, moving into my car was the obvious choice, and while I was homeless, travelling was the obvious choice. You wear out your welcome one place and have to move on. For a while at first I stayed in one place and kept day jobs, which was difficult because of my condition, then when my old truck broke down I moved into the bando and just shoplifted all my food that wasn't paid for by fan donations. Through the kindness of my fans I was able to go to New York, there I lived on the street, and sometimes slept in parks or crackhouses, which isn't the most fun (although there were lots of funny times also, which I drew comics of, and crackheads can be as nice as anyone when they choose to be.) I was hoping to get treatment for my condition and get on disability, but without a place to stay through winter it was impossible. It was thanks to the generosity of fans that I was able to get a van, and I tried again to move to Mississippi, but things fell apart and I had nowhere to stay, so to avoid police attention I went out west. I had wonderful adventures in california, but still I regretted leaving my family to struggle while I bummed around having fun.

Even times I was really broke, kind people would take me in and feed me. People seemed to go out of their way to be extremely nice all the time as soon as I was out of Mississippi, and when I got out west it was fun to hang out in San Francisco with all the other free people who lived in and around Golden Gate Park (there are many.) Travelling was fun, I made so many amazing friends across the country and had great times, but still it was hard to be truly happy.

I'm very lucky to have the support network I do, my life wouldn't be possible without it. Living in a van is definitely cheaper than living in a house for obvious reasons. If you're going to move into a van, get to California as soon as possible, it's the best place to do it. But if you feel you're in a good situation and have nothing to gain from homelessness, you should just enjoy your nice life and be grateful. And next time you have some extra cash or bud, go hand out some alms to your friendly neighborhood busker. They need it more than you.

[pocket-gems]

I'm genuinely unsure what to do with this blog. Like I do wanna post SU art and I reworked on my style, something I knew I was rusty but dang not that muchh. Here's a WIP of Blizzard to show that yeah I do stuff-

I'm just unsure I guess, unable to focus on the current SU world and so unable to continue. So, requests are open! Never thought I'd say it again but ages have passed so things are calm.

Request rules:

-My own SU ocs

-Random gems that don't exist (labradorite, dumortierite...)

-Fusions. Gay gay

-Idk man just nothing canon or others ocs, im tired of problems

-Gem donations (yes this happened before)

Just any kind of question, I appreciate it haha. It's just nice to see if anyone still shows interest. Spam allowed as long as it's no hate (assuming there's any edkhgdwihg).

I also really REALLY want to judge character designs now that I have kkknowledge so if anyone wants me to critizice your SU oc you can submit the gem. Or not, do what you want.

[loadednachosao3]

(Hiii @eros-thanatos89 here!)

You've been on such a roll lately and just dazzling Lacho nation with an absolute embarrassment of riches of fic, and I've just been gobbling it up like the thirsty little gremlin I am! So thank you!!

Since I love your writing so much, I'm curious: who are some of your favorite writers/what're some of your favorite novels or short stories??

hmmm... GOOD question! I used to work for the library, so I read a LOT (more than just fanfic!), which makes this a hard question as well, lol. especially since I read more nonfiction than fiction!

but let's see...

my favorite classic/taught in schools novel would have to be 1984 by George Orwell. (hilariously/depressingly, right after trump got elected, my department had to buy hundreds more copies because they got requested so much). Orwell's writing is much more accessible to me than many older writers are, save for that whole proletariat essay thing in the middle that made me wanna cut my eyes out. the book is a very relevant and scathing hate letter to fascism, and the right co-opting it when they're the ones it's written about will never fail to piss me off. THEY HAVEN'T EVEN READ IT I KNOW IT I KNOW THEY HAVEN'T

Suzanne Collins may get a lot of billing as a YA love triangle author, but she's absolutely nothing of the sort. The Hunger Games may be a YA series WITH a love triangle, but they're ABOUT so much more. the way she so perfectly captures the flaws of our society in a way that we then completely validate when we make the movies? beautiful. poignant. 10/10.

Bones and All by Camille DeAngelis is one I admittedly never finished, but loved what I read of it. there's a movie that... ok I also didn't finish that one I HAVE ADHD OKAY but the very concept of a girl who, when she experiences feelings of deep love, gets the irresistible compulsion (and the ability) to eat them then and there is just a wonderful concept!

one of my childhood favorites is this book called Molly Moon's Incredible Book of Hypnotism by Georgia Byng. I picked it up thinking it was a manual, lol, but it's actually this cool little story about an ugly orphan girl who gets the power to hypnotize people, and uses it to become rich and famous. they made a movie out of that too, I think, but I never watched it.

the Unwind series by Neal Shusterman is about a dystopian future where the "compromise" to stop abortions is that parents are, up til their child turns 18, legally allowed to give their children up to be "unwound," a process that involves cutting them up and donating their body parts to donors... while they're still alive, so they're not "technically" killing anyone. chilling, particularly the sequence in the first book where we get to see from the perspective of a teen being unwound.

I will never forgive Hollywood for what they did to the Chaos Walking series by Patrick Ness. it's an AMAZING trilogy about a village that contains only men, who are all forced to broadcast/hear each other's every thought (the first few pages capture the chaos of this situation by using varying fonts and font sizes placed haphazardly around the page in a chaotic mess). the reason for the lack of women is a spoiler, so I shan't say more, but lemme just say, Mads Mikkelsen, baby, you were so good as the villain, but the movie version that smashed 3 books into 1 was so trash. talents WASTED.

Ness also wrote A Monster Calls for a younger audience, a haunting but comforting book about grief. I'd recommend it to anyone whose loved ones might be going through a long bout of illness or something of the sort, if you need to feel less alone.

so those are my top fiction picks! nonfiction is a whole other story, haha (no pun intended). I might remember some more later, but I hope this has given you a bit of insight into why I am the person that I am, and where I get some of my writing inspo! thanks for the great question!

[rosysins]

OOC.

slight vent and update on irl situation ;;w;; !

So - as some of you may know my mom had passed last year in November 2022 due to ovarian cancer. That in itself, is another story of its own that I’m working through with my student psychologist right now. 

However, there is a lot of inner family turmoil thats a result of my mother’s death and it just seems like it snowballed since February of this year. If you guys wanna know the full situation go on ahead and continue or if you guys just want to listen to drama haha XD. I’m already broken beyond belief right now and its taking everything in my willpower to not just hibernate. 

- My family and I are muslims, but my mother was a convert. She was originally from a Catholic family and converted to marry my father. Because of this, my maternal family may not be aware of the customs surrounding islamic funerals and burials. One such custom, is that the belongings of the deceased must be given to family members or donated to people in need. My maternal family - particularly my grandmother, kept stalling and begged my father to wait/to not donate them yet. It wasn’t later that my father realized my grandmother was redistributing the items to her friends and people she knew (because she hates donating to people in need). My father donated all of my mother’s items without telling anyone and it caused my grandmother to freak out. 

- My father started dating again in January 2023 and ‘formally’ married in the end of January (the actual wedding happened in March - he never told me at all about this). My maternal family found out the same time they found out my father had donated all of my mom’s clothes, so they came to the conclusion that the ‘other woman’ was trying to actively throw out everything about my mom and replace her. They’ve turned my useless autistic older brother against my father and step mom.  - The family are continuing to feud over this and are actively pulling me into their messes as mediator, even though I was quite literally still grieving and trying to balance law school all the same. 

- And while thats all happening + on top of school stress and living situation abroad, shortly before I got back home to Indonesia, my step mom and dad kept hinting at me that they have something very important to tell me and that I should mentally get ready for it even though I was already mentally exhausted from all the other shit happening. 

- The thing they wanted to tell me about was one of my mom’s dying regret. That all this time my young cousin (who I actually call younger sister because we were raised very closely) turns out to be my actual younger sister. Her parents - Catholic sister from my mom’s side - couldn’t conceive so they, together with the same grandmother causing a fuss,  pressured my mom all those years ago to allow them to adopt one of her kids. Originally, they wanted to choose me, but I was already old enough to recognize who my parents were. So they ended up adopting my younger sister. My father wanted to tell her as soon as possible because it was my mother’s dying wish but her parents adamantly refused (despite the fact that they watched as my younger sister sobbed over my mom’s body, thinking the entire time it was her aunt) and right now, we’re working for a way for my sister to be able to meet my dad privately without their intervention so he could tell it all to her clearly. 

Yeah my life... I have no idea why it took this k-drama ass turn but I guess this is a good reason why I have never liked K-drama. So yeah! :’’DDD I tend to lurk and enjoy reading your RP threads! But damn, this was already too much for me and I just needed to scream into the void about whats happening in my life. I’m gonna adopt a cat once I get back to the Netherlands and no one can fucking stop me. 

I hope wherever you guys are, you’re doing a lot better than I am! 

[thatesqcrush]

Ali Stroker, Elizabeth Stanley & More to Join Arts Education Benefit Honoring Raúl EsparzaThe event will take place on September 20, 2023 at 6:30pm at The National Arts Club.

I knoooowwww, just a cool $500 for a ticket (that are now sold out, leaving just the $1K tickets). But it’s before my birthday! Anyone wanna donate?? Haha, jk jk.

[hekkoto]

SUPER EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS!!!

Hi guys, as you might know from my previous post we have some financial struggles + I hope to collect some money for needed equipment!

That’s why I made few HUGE DISCOUNTS for my commissions! Unlimited slots, just keep in mind that I make them in order of when they got paid. I will be super super grateful for supporting me in this hard time or sharing this to help me reach more people <3

Check out my links on linktree: https://linktr.ee/hekkoto here you can find all my sites <3 even smallest help means a lot for me <3

I hope to open my Kofi shop very soon, I will let you know what it will be done :>

Im trying my best to make any possible money cause without money I might be forced to give up taking medical care of my mental health and that can end quite badly haha

I know Im not big artist or anyone important but I hope to make this all work. Im tired of constant pain and despair ;-;

wanna support my evil dark empire? Im accepting souls on Patreon and Ko-fi! -> Hekkoto

Huge thanks to all of my Patrons and people who donate  🖤

[trujellyfish]

i understand wanting to share ur joy with others but like. its not the same if it feels like a chore.

like i got top surgery right and then my mom was being kinda anxious abt it and making it seem like a chore like she kept asking "is it okay if i tell this person? can i tell this person? have you told your grandmothers?"

like? tell whoever the fuck you want? but like im not just calling ppl up at random to be like hey big news my tits are gone!!

plus I KNOW its not about the surgery. she didnt care about telling anyone when i got put under to get my iud. didnt go around telling ppl when i donated eggs that resulted in a donor kid. i dont think she cared about telling anyone about my hysterectomy.

i mean she mightve. idk. cant remember. she didnt make it My Problem tho.

but the tiddies off? oh yeah gotta TELL people

"they'll notice!" okay? and? you really think my oma's gonna look at me and go "oh my goodness your breasts! where have your breasts gone!?" went back to work im still getting clocked as female so i really dont think ppl are. like. noticing. ??

tho my friend said hugging me was different (and then gave me another hug bc she was EXCITED FOR ME)

come downstairs in a dress and my moms joking like "haha you cant wear dresses now ur a boy haha" and im like mom i dont think u understand just how much patience i have for you ahaaaa i love you but man. if u were just a friend? i would stop talking to you.

but ur my mummy and i love you!

but hera help me. you really test me sometimes.

also like. i tell my sisters everything. i told my bros bc i live with them. COMPLETELY DIDNT THINK ABT TELLING MY ELDEST BRO THO lmfao he was a little offended but i think more in a 'u dont see me as someone to share joy with :/' kinda way which i get

I GET THAT

i get people WANTING to be someone with whom you share joy

but it just. my mom made it seem like i Had to Tell People because ??? idk ??? like. like sending out thank you letters after christmas? "this is a Major Surgery"

i guess what it boils down to is that i like doing things because i Want to do them, not out of some (perceived) bullshit sense of Responsibility

so. if im telling you something about my personal life it is because I Want You To Know. because i think you'll be happy for me, or can give me advice, or i just thought it was A Thing that happened and i like Talking

and like i told my siblings abt the donor child out of Responsibility (in case they have kids and the kids meet one day. u wanna make sure they dont end up dating kind of thing) and it was such a Not a Thing like my mom was the only one who cared....... she has a very different idea of whats important i guess.

im the type who would show up to a family event with a whole ass newborn and casually be like "oh yeah i was pregnant. this is ur cousin/nibling wtv" and all the adults would be livid that i didnt make a big deal out of it. ....... damn........ that would be hilarious tho........

i simply DO NOT CARE enough abt my family to tell them when big things happen in my life. idk. plus. my family isnt exactly good at being happy for others. like i get it, same, i been working on it, theyre never gonna change if i dont give them a chance, etc. whatever. but i just. idk. feels like theyre excited for me bc they Have to be, more than. because they Are genuinely happy for me?

politely happy for me. im not gonna tell ppl if i think theyre just gonna be Politely Happy

which i guess is still me not giving them a chance but. still kinda dont care. haunted by my father saying "why are you telling me this" like okay im never telling anyone anything anymore. just gonna wallow in my cowardice and hate my dad. thats what boys do right? im doing boyhood right. i'll figure out emotional maturity when im a man. hashtag real men.

my roommates cat is lying on my back and nuzzling into my neck. sir. sir please get ur claws off my scalp. sir.

[dave-the-timelord]

TAICHI WHAT THE HELL BANRI TOO WHAT THE FUCK

[written-by-leftover-dreams]

just tryna figure out my feelings by looking at other people’s posts and like platonic yes but not even platonic cuddling or anything i just wanna lie next to someone in bed and chat about everything and nothing until we fall asleep but don’t you fucking dare touch me rn cos i will fully freak out and yet other times platonic cuddling is so appealing to me like what please can i just make my mind up and stick with one god damn thing ig at least lack of sexual attraction is remaining constant but i still can’t decide whether i want romantic, platonic or just be fucking weird ass cat lady/person who lives on her/their own for eternity surrounded by books and nature cos that sure as hell sounds bloody wonderful but like maybe i wanna share that with someone in some capacity but also maybe only if they have a separate house from me who fucking knows just gimme some “normal person” feelings please thank you bye

[yellowmintea]

Small update, my goal here is to have at least 1 upload a week for the entire year! That's going to be pretty difficult considering how badly my inspiration comes and goes, and also the fact that my keyboard is running out of space for songs ;;;; But I will keep doing my best!

For an idea of how old my keyboard is, it uses floppy disks 😅 I will see if I can order some floppys or if there is an upgrade I can get for it to help with the space problem!

[one-coming-is-enough]

Uh, me and Ashmedai? Dude, you know I'd never do that to you! He's your sword, your right-hand man. (Or is it left, for you guys? Haha, little Latin joke?) I was mostly totally joking. Cause you were like, "I don't wanna know, Jesus Christ!" And, y'know, sometimes I can't resist the joke.

Good to see my favorite snake with a lion's head! Nice mane you got these days. New face really suits you, very approachable. I always thought the single big eye in the middle of the forehead was a bit much.

Aww, y'know. There's a lot of women who were into me. And a lot of women named Mary, just in general... But it was always kinda weird to think about doing anything with any of them because that's Mom's name. (Not Mother. Human Mom.) Honestly, a little weird to think about doing stuff with human women in general, especially since I knew I was going to die young and I wasn't gonna just leave My earthly kids without their dad.

Anyway, that's old news. How are you and Lilith doing? I know she got mad at you for that business with Samyaza's "bachelor party", and it's not like I can condone any of what went on there, but I don't think it's fair that she's allowed to run around doing whatever with human men and then she gets that mad at you for doing the same thing one time. Did she, you know, donate your sandals to the Temple like she was threatening? I mean, you're the Accuser, it honestly amazes me that you let her walk all over you like that. But that's not really my business either, I guess.

I can't say I'm looking forward to working with you, given the circumstances, but I also haven't actually committed to, you know, "Coming Back" back. I'm literally just here to visit Human Mom and Dad and make sure Mother didn't stick anyone else She doesn't want to think about in Wisconsin again so they can try to end the world before its time eat some chocolate cheese. Maybe play a little Skee-ball.

But also, I just wanted you to know that I appreciate what you're doing. I know everyone gives you shit for being the guy whose literal function it is to argue with Mother about Her decisions, and I know that a lot of the time it makes you look like the bad guy, but I really think you keep Her from making rash decisions that are obviously not going to work out for anyone down the line. And I appreciate that.

I dunno what I'm gonna do if he doesn't come back.

[brokenjere]

seventeen going under (j.f) (ch. 15)

seventeen going under (j.f)

A/N: so this is unedited and it's.......long haha i will probably edit it eventually but i wanted to get it out and i was happy with it so lmk what you think and if you wanna be added to the tag list :)

synopsis: deb ball volleyball tournament and a love confession

catch up here

I told Susannah I didn’t want to play in the volleyball tournament. She was sad, of course. She begged me practically on her hands and knees, pleading with me that “all the debutantes are doing it” and “it would be good to give back” and “don’t you want people to remember you?” 

And honestly, no. I didn’t want anyone to remember this night except Susannah. If I could, I’d have dressed up just as nice and put Jeremiah on my arm and waltzed around the living room while she drank wine and clapped like we were little kids again rehearsing for our school musical. If I could, I’d burn this memory out of everyone’s heads. 

The volleyball tournament was where I drew the line. I will not be putting on baseball tees that were printed from some shady website with my name on it and I will not be making Jeremiah wear a matching one. I also am not the most athletic of the bunch but that was one of my last excuses. Jeremiah was, of course. I’m sure he would kill a volleyball tournament enough for the both of us but I could not, and would not, risk sand in my mouth in the name of Susannah Fisher. It didn’t matter that it was raising money for good causes. The good cause was saving my knees. 

She pouted for a while, asking me over late brunch again and again if I had changed my mind. I kept telling her no until eventually, my mom had to tell her to stop asking. “If you don’t be quiet, she’ll back out of the ball completely,” she threatened one day while we all stood around the kitchen island. I hadn’t threatened that, of course, but at the time Jeremiah hadn’t agreed to be my date so the thought was more than tempting. 

After that, Susannah stopped asking. She flaunted Belly’s neon green shirts that read TEAM BELLY on them and Shayla’s highlighter yellow one that read TEAM SHAYLA. Just because Steven had to wear it, didn’t mean I did. I smiled and nodded at her while she showed them off and then I disappeared in the backyard. 

I wondered if maybe I should be making more of an effort. Maybe I should have signed up for the tournament and wore an ugly shade of yellow too or maybe I should be spending more time with her while she baked in the kitchen instead of sticking my finger in the wet batter and licking it off like an animal. Despite knowing Susannah is nearing her end, it hasn’t quite hit me the way I think it should have. I think I’ll be living in denial as long as Jeremiah is in the dark. His ignorance is my ignorance. 

Despite not participating in the event, I still dragged Jeremiah along with me to watch.  He was going to go anyway, to cheer on Belly, but we drove together and grabbed lemonades the size of our heads and sat down on the sidelines. Susannah made an announcement, telling everyone how to donate and the excitement in her voice panged me with guilt and regret. 

“She loves these things,” Jeremiah said as he leaned into my shoulder. His mom was beaming on the court. Not even the giant microphone in her face could hide her smile. It was infectious and I’m sure, the reason every event every year was a success. 

“Did Conrad have to do this last year?” Jeremiah laughed and nodded his head, remembering. “I wish I had stayed to see it.” 

“It wasn’t that eventful. The only reason Mom made him escort Nicole was because her date dropped out last minute and he already knew the waltz.” 

  Susannah stepped off the court and announced the first team. It was a normal bracket style tournament. Two teams faced off and whoever won moved to the next round. So on and so forth until there were only two teams left. The teams lined up against the fence, watching each game as if they were studying the players. It reminded me of when Conrsd would play chess. How focused he would get on whatever move his opponent would make next. 

Jeremiah would stare off aimlessly into the distance, not paying attention to what Conrad or I did and then ask, “what happened?” But Conrad would stare. He’d plot. He’d stick his tongue out in pure concentration. 

“I hate sports,” I said out loud, making Jeremiah laugh. 

“I know you do.” “I’m just so bad at them. I have zero hand-eye coordination.” 

“You throw a pretty mean punch,” he added, throwing a smirk in my direction. I can’t help but turn a shade of crimson. When we were kids, I’d beat on Jeremiah relentlessly. Like a little kid on the playground being mean to their crush. I don’t know if I had a crush on him then but he often stole my cereal in the mornings or the candy out of my lunch box and made me chase him around for it until eventually I’d land a punch on his bicep. 

When we were fifteen, I actually punched him. It was an accident but it left a bruised eye on his perfect face. He was hiding behind my bedroom door, presumably waiting for me to come upstairs and scare me. He jumped out so violently and screamed so loud, my only reflex was to punch. Unfortunately for my hand and Jeremiah’s face, my punch landed exactly on his right eye. 

I scrambled to collect him off the floor, throwing out apologies as fast as I could. He was just laughing. “Holy shit, Yn. I didn’t know you could hit like that.” 

“You scared me!” I defended, holding him up as I walked him to my bed. He cradled his face in his hands and I pried them away so I could see the damage. It wasn’t much now, but it was bright red. The next day it was black and blue and Jeremiah told everyone he ran into a door. “Let me get you some ice,” I offered. Mom didn’t ask any questions as I collected a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and wrapped them in a dish towel. She just eyed me suspiciously as I moved through the kitchen. Upstairs, Jeremiah was still holding his eye. 

He let me press the peas to his face but took over the compress once it was comfortable. “I am so sorry,” I repeated. 

“Kinda hot,” he teased, bumping his shoulder to mine. How could he be so nonchalant? How could he be acting like I didn’t just assault him in my bedroom? “You could kiss it better?“ He offered when he noticed my face wasn’t relaxing. If I worried for him any harder, I’d develop worry lines at the age of fifteen. 

I scowled at his suggestion and he gestured toward my hand. “Let me see it,” he said. I gave him my hand and he inspected my knuckles for signs of bruising. “My face is pretty hard, you know. It’s the Fisher jawline.” 

“I didn’t hit you in the jaw,” I reminded him. He shrugged like it was all the same. “You’re gonna have a black eye.” 

“You’re gonna have bruised knuckles.” 

We stared at each other. Peas held to his face with one hand and my hand in his other. I started to cry and he laughed. He audibly laughed and then because I couldn’t help it, I started to laugh too. The tears dried up almost as soon as they’d arrived and then we were both cracking up on my bed. 

“Don’t remind me of that,” I said to him now. He smiled as if it was a fond memory. One he’d kept forever in the confines of his mind. Like a favorite beach trip or school field trip. 

“Just saying, don’t count yourself out so soon.” 

“Maybe I should take up boxing?” I asked, holding up my fists as if I was going to start fighting him. I shook them around in front of my face and Jeremiah used the palm of his hand to lower my weapons. 

“More like MMA. Could knock a sucker out with those.” I smiled, proudly. “Belly and Cam are up,” Jeremiah said, pointing toward the court. I actually paid attention now. Not that I really knew the rules to volleyball, but it was Belly after all and I should at least pretend to know what was going on. 

She and Cam move across the court with ease. They speak with their eyes, Belly telling him where to go and he does it automatically. They won. They won again and again until they didn’t. 

The fourth game down, after a winning streak that didn’t even break a sweat, the other team was kicking their ass. Cameron was fumbling over his own feet, barely scraping the ball with his knuckles. I was pretty sure he had a mouthful of sand at one point. “What the hell is going on?” Jeremiah asked, I think mostly to himself because it came out as more of a mumble than anything. 

“I don’t know.” I felt bad for the kid. Belly was competitive. Especially when she got in the zone like she was now. I could see it in the way her eyebrows furrowed and her cheeks puffed out when she breathed. She was fully prepared to do whatever she could to win. 

Across the court, on the other side of all the players, was Conrad and Nicole. They leaned against the rail, both a cup in their hands. They weren’t speaking, just watching the game unfold intently. Belly said something to Cam, pointing to a bench off to the side and then she was waving Conrad over. “What the fuck?” I asked. 

“What did she just say?” Jeremiah asked, sitting up further in his seat like he was watching a scary movie that was keeping him on his toes. They were talking to each other. She was pointing and she looked mad but I couldn’t decipher what was being said. Cam took off his neon green t-shirt and gave it to Conrad, who stripped off his own shirt and put on the TEAM BELLY one. Conrad. Always team Belly. “What is going on,” I mumbled. 

“Belly is about to win the damn thing,” Jeremiah boasted. He was happy. He was excited. He was proud. “Conrad is going to kick all these kids' asses.”

“He’s not even her escort, is that allowed?” I huffed. I crossed my arms over my chest. It was a defensive move, shielding me from whatever feelings were attacking my chest and whatever questions I was sure were to come. 

“Why wouldn’t it be allowed? It’s not an Olympic tournament. It’s for charity,” he said, playfulness in his voice. He was leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and I could see the sweat that was dripping down his neck and under his shirt. I could see his biceps protruding from his sleeves like the shirt was way too small for him. 

“I’m just saying, kind of cheating to switch partners halfway through the game.” He turned around to look at me now and I recoiled into the bench. I hid my face with the cup of lemonade and averted my eyes to the court. They were killing it which just made me more mad. 

“What’s your problem? Don’t you want her to win?”

“Yeah but why does he need to be a part of it? Poor Cam was just pushed to the side.” I decided to focus on that. Cam. “He’s her boyfriend for crying out loud. I'd never do that to you.”

“Well, I’m not your boyfriend,” he pointed out. He wasn’t even watching the game at this point. I had his full attention. He looked amused, like me picking on Belly was funny. It wasn’t funny and I felt bad even as I was saying it but I was trying to place my angered feelings and I was placing them in the wrong spot. I was mad that Conrad was on Team Belly and not Team Me and I didn’t know why. He wasn’t even who I wanted. 

I was selfish. I knew that. It was a trait of mine I had been forced to come to terms with when I was younger and my mom would make me share with other kids on the playground and I would tell them the toys were covered in mold or dead bugs so they’d want to play with someone else’s stuff. I think it stemmed from being an only child. I never had to share or be selfless. I had whatever I wanted whenever I wanted it. I knew it when Jeremiah got his first girlfriend and I was so jealous, I wanted to break them up even though he was perfectly respectful when I was dating Elijah. I wanted all of it to myself. Both boys. 

“You could be,” I replied with a knowing smirk. Jeremiah let out a huge laugh. One that threw his body backward and forced his hand to his chest. “What’s so funny?” I asked, offended he would think this was funny. 

“Just a few weeks ago you were begging me to stop flirting with you. You said you needed space. And now you’re saying you want to be my girlfriend?” His eyes were shining with admiration, even as he called me out for my inconsistency. 

“I didn’t say I wanted to be your girlfriend, I just said you could be my boyfriend,” I clarified. I kicked my feet in the sand a little bit and watched as it covered my toes. “You know, if you wanted.” 

“If I wanted?” He was staring at me. I looked up. 

“If you wanted.”

Everything went silent. I thought I went deaf for a minute. Lost all ability to hear or feel anything in the outside world except the heat from his knees on mine and the weight of his longing gaze on my face. I didn’t even hear the crowd cheering for Belly and Conrad as they won the game. I didn’t hear them announce the next team. All I heard is Jeremiah saying, “well what if I want to?” 

I thought about my response. I could just word vomit everything I was thinking: then you’re my boyfriend. I love you. It’s a done deal, don’t ever leave. Or I could tease him like I usually do but that'd be cruel and unfair. So instead I said: “then we’ll talk later. In private.”

That seemed to satisfy him enough. He sat back on the bench, our arms touching and he inched his hand toward mine. He wanted to hold it and I let him. He laced our fingers together and even though it was hot and our fingers were getting sweaty, we kept holding them the entire time. 

The sun was starting to set by the time the last few games were being played. Belly and Conrad had done it - they were in the final bracket. My lemonade was gone, a ring of condensation was stained into the bench only to be dried up by the sun and then arrive again a few moments later. I thought about getting a refill or some water or something to replenish the hydration that was leaving my body with each drop of sweat. Even the shade of the awning that we were sitting under didn’t shield us from the heat but I had gotten up to pee more times than I can count while we waited for this dreaded tournament to be over so I decided against it. But now that the sun was going away, it was getting cooler. 

There was an orange hue to the world around us now. A soft glow illuminated Jeremiah’s face as he watched the game intently, smiling to himself as he watched his brother play. I had known these boys my entire life. Since we all in diapers, playing in the same sand box and then cleaning up in the same bath tub. It was strange to see them now, all grown it. It was strange to love both of them with every fiber of my being. It was strange to feel this strongly about the one sitting next to me now. But what’s stranger, was how their relationship developed over the years. From being tight as thieves as kids to now, what seems to me, almost utter strangers. 

There was no doubting the jealousy in Jeremiah’s eyes as he watched Conrad play. He couldn’t hide his jealousy from a hundred miles away since the moment he turned fifteen and they were no longer little kids, but young adults waiting to become Adam’s little robots. Since the minute Adam picked Conrad as the golden child, no matter how hard Jeremiah tried. And he tried. And that’s what hurt the most. Watching Conrad get everything Jeremiah wanted so badly: his dad’s approval, football super stardom, and throw it all away. 

I reached over and squeezed his hand. He sent me an appreciative grin and I gave it right back, but I could feel the sadness creeping up behind it so I looked away before it could show it’s ugly face. I wanted him, I knew I did, but I also knew that I had to tell him about Susannah before I could be with him. It was only right and seeing how he watched his brother now, with contempt and wistfulness, it pained me to know I was keeping a secret that could bond them again. They needed each other and if Conrad was going to be too stubborn to tell him, I had to. 

While the last game raged on, Jeremiah and I eagerly waited by the railing overlooking the court. I leaned into his arm and he welcomed me like a warm blanket. The up and down of his steady breathing kept me sane as I watched the same ball going back and forth and back and forth for the hundredth time today. He looked down at me and said, “it’s almost over. You’re so impatient.” 

“I’m just bored,” I said, letting out a groan. I turned over so my back was leaning on the railing and I was giving Jeremiah my full attention. “Besides,” I drag, “we need to talk. Remember?” Jeremiah’s eyes lit up. 

“I remember,” he whispered. He leaned forward, his hand on one side of me and his chest dipping almost too close to mine. “Wanna dip early?” A smirk curled up on one side of his mouth and the suggestion was tempting, but I shook my head. 

“It’s almost over, remember?”

“I think whatever we’re gonna talk about it is more exciting.” The twinge of amusement and flirtation was undeniable and I wanted to kiss him right then and there. Put my hands on either side of his face, pull him as close as possible and kiss him until I could no longer breathe. Instead, I put my hand on his chest and push him backward slightly. 

“Your brother is about to win a volleyball tournament, don’t you wanna watch?” I asked. Cheering exploded from behind me but it had been ongoing all afternoon, so I didn’t bother to even look. 

Jeremiah did look. He glanced up over my shoulders and onto the court and mumbled in disbelief, “looks like he just did.” 

I whipped around to see Conrad snatch Belly up in his arms and twirl her around. His smile was so big it could eat up the sun. I hadn’t seen him smile that big in months. Susannah made her way down the court, meeting them halfway with the trophy in hand. Jeremiah grabbed my hand and dragged me down to the sand. It kicked up as I walked quickly, trying to keep up with Jeremiah’s big strides. He hugged his brother and Belly was hugging Steven and I stood there, alone. Watching. 

It was warm in Jeremiah’s room, despite the dropping temperature outside. I laid on his bed, my feet kicked up on the headboard as Jeremiah rifiled through his drawers. I didn’t even know what he was looking for, only that he had been looking since the second we got back to the house. We had not brought up our conversation from earlier yet. It was like a big balloon in the room that sucked all of the air out of it and neither one of us wanted to pop it and the air any more muggy than it already was. 

“What could you possibly be looking for?” I finally asked. He was digging around a bottom drawer now, and groaned as he slammed it shut.

“Something.”

“Obviously.” Jeremiah moved to the closet now and ignored my sarcastic comment. I watched him upside down contently. I watched as his body moved, a perfect specimen waiting for his feathers to be ruffled. He threw out dirty clothes from the floor to the closet to the floor of the bedroom until finally, he dug something out. 

“Ah-ha!” He said in victory, rolling back on his heels. 

“What is it?” I asked. He stood up and when he turned around, he had a pink stuffed pig in his hands and a smile plastered to his face. I shot up, the world turning right side up. “Is that Porky?” Jeremiah nodded enthusiastically as he threw himself on the bed next to me. I grabbed the stuffed pig from his hands and admired it on my lap. “You still have this?” 

When I was a baby, my dad gave me a stuffed pig that I slept with in my crib. When I moved to my toddler bed, so did Porky. I carried him around with me everywhere. He dragged on the floor behind me, trailing along collecting dirt and germs but I didn’t care. He must have went through the wash at least three times a week. So much so, he lost an eye when I was six. I loved Porky more than anything. He was my best friend before Jeremiah was my best friend, really. I told Porky everything. When Mom made me so mad because she said I had to eat my vegetables and how frustrated I was that I couldn’t write my Q’s the right away. I told Porky everything until, eventually, I trusted Jeremiah enough to tell him instead.

When I was ten, I gave Porky to Jeremiah. I set him on this exact bed, almost seven years ago. He was disheveled, even then, with a missing eye and a chunk missing out of his ear and his light pink snot stained a dirty brown color. He was sitting poised in front of the pillows and when Jeremiah saw him he asked me, “what’s he doing here?”

“I want to give him to you,” I told him. “I don’t need him anymore.” Jeremiah gave me a questioning look, like he was unsure what exactly I meant or what he should do with the information given so I explained further, “I already trust you best.” 

“What am I going to do with this ratty thing?” He asked, picking up Porky by his chewed up ear with his fingertips. 

“As a token of my friendship,” I said to him then. Now, as I looked down at it, I realized it wasn’t just a token of my friendship with Jeremiah, nor was it the beginning of our real, true, best everythingship, it’s the first sign that I loved him. At the age of ten, it wasn’t anything more than platonic but if I gave it to him now, it would have my heart in it. 

“As a token of my friendship,” he mimicked my words from all those years ago into my ear. I smiled, feeling my cheeks heat up. “Of course I still have it.” 

I held Porky’s hands and made him dance a little on my lap. “I almost forgot about this thing.” 

“How could you?” Jeremiah asked, appalled at my confession. I laughed and set him down on the bed beside me. I turned to face Jeremiah now, his body was leaned into mine and he was watching me, his blue eyes staring into my soul. He was no longer smiling, not really anyway. He just looked happy. “Do you still trust me best?” 

I nodded and asked, “do you trust me best?” 

Jeremiah nodded in reply. He put his hand on my cheek, caressing the side of my face. His thumb felt warm. My entire body felt warm. Wherever his skin touched, mine tingled like he was leaving a million little kisses everywhere. There were stars in my blood. Closer, closer. He was inching closer and I knew what I wanted: him. I knew it with every fiber of my being and instead of following my gut and telling him the truth, I kissed him. 

I kissed him with everything that I had in me. His hands grabbed at me like he had been searching for me his entire life and now that he found me, he refused to let go. My hands were in his hair and his hands found their way up the back of my shirt, leaving a warm trail on my skin. I let him lean me back on the bed and he stopped kissing me, only for a moment, to look at me. His eyes were questioning, a quiet question if he should continue or not. “I love you, Jeremiah. I’m in love with you and I’m so sorry it took me so long to say it,” I confessed. 

His eyes searched mine frantically. The blue in his eyes were bluer. His eyelashes looked longer. His skin looked smoother. “Finally,” he said and then he kissed me again and this time, he didn’t stop other than to catch his breath or place kisses down my neck. He started with my cheek and then my jawline. I pulled at his shirt, wanting it off in a frantic wanting sort of way. I wanted to be closer to him. As close as possible. 

He sucked on my neck gently, making a moan escape from my lips. I pushed him off of me just long enough to take off my shirt and he mirrored my movements without question and when we collided back together, every inch of my skin felt alive. 

We were a tornado of emotion, a frenzy of every almost confession, secret emotion, and suppressed feeling either of us have ever had. I put every I love you I have ever thought since I was fifteen years old into kissing him. I let each word linger behind my lips. I wanted to explore his entire body. I knew what he looked like, for the most part. I knew how his muscles moved when he walked, ran, and swam. I could tell you exactly where his birthmark was on his lower back but I wanted to learn it in a new way, in this exciting way. 

He wanted to learn mine, first, it seemed. My lips felt swollen when he stopped kissing them but then they were on my collarbone and my chest and between my breast. The bra suddenly felt like an unwelcome barrier between us. One that needed to be removed, immediately. Jeremiah didn’t remove it, though. He moved his hands over my breasts and then to my back, lifting me closer to him. 

After his lips met every part of my upper body, he made his way back to my lips but he kissed me slowly this time. Sweetly, like he was savoring every minute of it. Like he was scared it would never happen again. The neediness of only a few seconds ago was replaced with a tenderness that I didn’t know I wanted. His hands moved slower as if he was trying to memorize the way I felt and his kisses were gentler. 

He didn’t attempt to take off my pants until I asked him to. I wrapped my hand around his wrist and guided it toward my shorts but he did the rest himself. He unbuttoned them with ease and it made me wonder if he had done this before and with who but that thought quickly evaporated as my shorts hit the floor. 

Everything about this felt right. His hands, his lips, the way he was looking at me, and the way that our bodies fit together like a puzzle. It all felt perfect. There was not a single thing about this moment I would change. Not the fact that Porky was digging into my back or the fact that everyone we knew was in this house just below us. All that mattered was Jeremiah, my Jeremiah. And my Jeremiah he would be - forever. 

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